‘You were going to leave! Just like Mummy did.’
‘What do you mean?’
Dottie sits up and wipes at her tear-streaked face. ‘Mummy left us, didn’t she?’
‘It was an accident, Dottie. You know that. You were there.’
A sob escapes from Dottie’s mouth. ‘Don’t leave me, Ellie. Please don’t leave me.’
Ellie sets down the telegram and walks over to the bed. Sitting down, she hugs Dottie. ‘I won’t leave you, Dottie. I promise. We’re sisters, aren’t we? If you promise not to tell Poppy about the engagement, I won’t tell him that you’ve turned into a little thief.’
Dottie sniffs and nods. She doesn’t need to tell Ellie that Thomas rang from the train station. That she’d promised him to tell Ellie he’d rung. Ellie doesn’t need to know that. Maybe Thomas would never come back. That would be the best thing. Everything was fine now. Everything would be fine.
Chapter 37
Tippy’s Tickle – 16 September 2001
Florie sets three cake tins on the kitchen table with a piece of oily paper covered with blue-inked scribbles. ‘Right. Are you sure you knows what you’re doin’? You have baked a cake before?’
‘Well, I used to help my mother occasionally,’ Sophie says as she fishes two wooden spoons out of the cutlery drawer. ‘I’m sure Becca and I can figure it out, can’t we, Becca?’
Becca nods and signs, ‘Yes!’
‘Off you go, Florie. Go spend some time with Ellie. Just show me how to turn on the oven.’
‘You don’t knows how to turn on the oven? This is gonna go well.’ Florie twists a knob and sets the temperature. ‘Don’t put the cake into the oven until that red light – you see that little light there? – until that light goes off or the cake’ll come out flat as a pancake.’
‘Got it.’
‘Right. I’m thinkin’ I’m makin’ a big mistake here.’
‘Go, Florie.’ Sophie marches her towards the door to the hallway. ‘We’ll do you proud, won’t we, Becca?’
Becca signs to Florie.
‘Oh, is that right, maid?’ Florie signs back. ‘The best birthday cake Ellie’s ever had? Better than my cakes? We’ll see about that.’
Sophie ties on a pink-flowered apron and gestures for Becca to turn around as she ties a yellow apron with bee pockets around the girl’s tiny waist. ‘Okay, Becca. Do you know where Florie keeps the flour?’
Becca takes Sophie’s hand and leads her into the pantry. Sophie holds up Florie’s scribbled recipe. Pointing at the paper, Becca signs to Sophie.
Sophie shakes her head. ‘I’m sorry, Becca. I don’t understand.’
Becca lets out a loud huff. She points at the word flour and signs it. Sophie copies her, the recipe fluttering through the air with her movements. ‘Flour. Right, I get it.’
Becca points to a top shelf and Sophie reaches for the large yellow bag of Robin Hood flour and sets it on the floor. ‘Okay, boss, what’s next?’
Becca points to the next ingredient on the list and signs cocoa.
‘Got it.’ Sophie signs cocoa. She scans the shelves until she finds the can of Fry’s Cocoa. She points at a bag of sugar. ‘We need sugar, right?’
Becca nods and signs sugar.
Sophie tosses Becca the bag of sugar. ‘We make a great team, Becca. This cake is going to be awesome.’
***
Sam jabs his finger into the bowl of chocolate icing and sticks it in his mouth. Becca slaps his hand and signs at her father.
‘Oh, really, Becca-bug? I’m naughty, am I?’
‘Get your hand out of there, Sam,’ Sophie says as she sets a china cake stand on the yellow checked oilcloth she’s draped over the mahogany table. ‘We have a lot of cake to frost. Just look at them. They turned out great.’
Sam leans over one of the rounds of chocolate cake cooling on racks on the table. ‘Smells fantastic.’ He looks over at Becca. ‘Maybe I can have just a little piece now.’
Becca shakes her head, her blonde ponytails bouncing either side of her face. ‘No, no, no, Daddy. It’s for Gramma’s birthday,’ she signs.
‘If you don’t tell Gramma, I won’t.’ Sam takes a fork off the table and makes to stab at the cake.
Sophie dives at the fork. ‘Oh, no you don’t! Give me that fork, Sam.’
Sam hides the fork behind his back. ‘I’m having that cake, Princess Grace.’
Becca giggles soundlessly, clapping her hands and stamping her feet as Sophie grabs for the fork.
‘Give me that fork!’
Sam holds the fork above his head. ‘I don’t think so. Rupert! Get away from that cake!’
The dog barks out several loud woofs.
The screen door flies open and Florie enters the kitchen carrying packages of birthday candles. ‘Jaysus Murphy, you could wake the dead with all this racket. Look at the state of this place. Did you use every bowl in the kitchen? I thought you said you knew how to bake.’
‘We do know how to bake now, don’t we, Becca?’
Becca runs over to Sophie and gives her a hug. She smiles at her father, signing.
Sam looks at Sophie and nods. ‘Yes, Becca. I think you make a great team, too.’
Chapter 38
Letters – Winter 1942–1943
166th (Newfoundland) Field Regiment
c/o APS Algiers, Tunisia
December 11th, 1942
My darling Ellie Mae,
Here I am in Africa. Not a place I ever thought I’d set foot in. You probably heard what’s going on here on the wireless. The Newfoundlanders have been in the thick of it. Can’t say more than that, as I know they’ll take their black pen and XXXXXXXXXXXXXX.
What happened, maid? I waited for you at Liverpool Station. Sent the telegram out to you a week before to let you know where and when. I stood there all day. Must have smoked three packets of cigarettes, and I don’t normally smoke! I tried calling the fire station, but the phone just rang on. I called your house and got hold of Dottie. She said you were out with George. I told her to tell you that I love you. I made her swear. They shipped us out shortly after that. My heart’s down in my shoes, Ellie Mae, and that’s not a good
