BooksBarbecue
Back All the Days of Our Lives Save as PDF
Chapters (84)
  1. All the Days of Our Lives
  2. 1945
  3. 1931-1944
  4. I
  5. One
  6. Two
  7. Three
  8. Four
  9. Five
  10. Six
  11. Seven
  12. Eight
  13. Nine
  14. Ten
  15. Eleven
  16. Twelve
  17. Thirteen
  18. Fourteen
  19. Fifteen
  20. Sixteen
  21. Seventeen
  22. Eighteen
  23. Nineteen
  24. Twenty
  25. Twenty-One
  26. Twenty-Two
  27. 1946
  28. II
  29. Twenty-Three
  30. Twenty-Four
  31. Twenty-Five
  32. Twenty-Six
  33. III
  34. Twenty-Seven
  35. Twenty-Eight
  36. Twenty-Nine
  37. IV
  38. Thirty
  39. Thirty-One
  40. Thirty-Two
  41. V
  42. Thirty-Three
  43. Thirty-Four
  44. Thirty-Five
  45. VI
  46. Thirty-Six
  47. Thirty-Seven
  48. 1948-1949
  49. VII
  50. Thirty-Eight
  51. Thirty-Nine
  52. Forty
  53. VIII
  54. Forty-One
  55. Forty-Two
  56. Forty-Three
  57. IX
  58. Forty-Four
  59. Forty-Five
  60. Forty-Six
  61. X
  62. Forty-Seven
  63. Forty-Eight
  64. Forty-Nine
  65. Fifty
  66. Fifty-One
  67. Fifty-Two
  68. Fifty-Three
  69. Fifty-Four
  70. XI
  71. Fifty-Five
  72. Fifty-Six
  73. XII
  74. Fifty-Seven
  75. Fifty-Eight
  76. XIII
  77. Fifty-Nine
  78. XIV
  79. Sixty
  80. XV
  81. Sixty-One
  82. Sixty-Two
  83. 1953
  84. All the Days of Our Lives

Safekeeping my eye, she thought. Does she really think someone’s going to come in and steal my post? She was just being nosy as usual, poor old thing. She’s not got much to liven her life up. But then – Molly laughed at herself – neither have I, come to think of it! Despite the perishing cold, she was feeling quite cheerful.

Her digs were on the first floor of a house in Camden Town. Above her lived a shy, mousy-haired, but sweet-natured typist called Sarah. Below were Mrs Hodgkins and the suffering Bert. Molly had heard him groaning once or twice. Mrs H was nosy and a bit miserable, but she wasn’t a bad cook, the rent was reasonable, at eighteen shillings, and the house bare, but clean.

The room was very cold and, without taking off her coat, Molly filled the kettle, set it on the single ring heater. She badly needed a cuppa and a smoke after that freezing wait for the bus and the miserable crawl home! She sat on the bed, lit a cigarette and looked at the card, across which, in blue-black ink, was strung Phoebe Morrison’s unmistakable bold, square hand.

‘Molly . . .’ it began. (It had taken the two of them a long time to get used to each other’s first names. Molly struggled with ‘Phoebe’, and she was sure her former Subaltern had to think twice to prevent herself barking ‘Fox!’ at her.)

Molly – can you meet me on Saturday morning – usual place, 10.30? I’ve news for you.

Phoebe.

Molly laid the card down with a sense of mild curiosity and went to make herself a much-needed cup of tea. Mug in both hands, sipping the hot liquid, she thought: Well, I wonder what the Gorg’s got to say?

The relationship of commander and subordinate had never vanished entirely from their friendship, but since Molly had been living in London more permanently she had seen Phoebe Morrison quite regularly and they had become more relaxed with one another. They almost never went to each other’s lodgings – Phoebe in any case lived some way away in Highbury. And she was rather awkward company. So they met to do something: usually to go to the pictures and for a drink afterwards to chat about the film, while Molly stuck to lemonade and Phoebe smoked like a chimneystack. That worked well. Though the two of them had never had a very close or confiding conversation, Molly really looked forward to their outings. It felt like something sure and stable in her life, and she could tell that Phoebe, in her stiff, repressed way, valued it too. She certainly went to pains to keep in touch.

After another summer of the holiday camps, Molly had decided to try and get a grip on things. She was getting sick of her life of shifting work and of brief, pointless affairs with men who just happened to be around.