Free A Wartime Christmas by Carol Rivers

that crept right up to the chimneys and over the other side of the cottages, just like in picture books or
magazines. Willow trees, identified by Alan, had waved their long branches over little ponds with tiny ducks floating on the calm surface.
    Kay was mesmerized! She couldn’t wait to tell Vi all she had seen, as they had both supposed that outside of London, there wasn’t much to see or do. The truth was that people who
lived in the country seemed very busy; they worked in the fields along with the Land Army girls who Alan said would probably be billeted on the local farms. There were dogs and cats too –
pets weren’t allowed on the island. During the bombing the government had told everyone to either put down their animals or remove them to safety. Briefly she thought about Babs
Chapman’s cat, Fluffy, who was killed on the last raid. She hoped the children wouldn’t be too upset.
    ‘
Albion
,’ Alan said as he squinted through the hedges at the hidden gardens and looked for name-plates on the cottages. ‘It’s got to be down here
somewhere.’
    Kay was on tenterhooks. ‘I can hardly speak I’m so excited.’
    ‘I wonder if he’s grown much.’
    ‘He was a real mischief when he went away.’ Kay suppressed the lump in her throat. She felt she had missed a vital part of his growing-up. ‘This past ten months have seemed
endless. I can’t believe he’ll be three in November.’
    ‘This must be it,’ Alan said, pointing to a large hedge in the form of an arch. The sign beneath it was an engraved brass plaque. ‘See, this says
Albion
.’
    As usual Kay had been so wrapped up in her thoughts that when she looked up the narrow path that Alan indicated, at first she didn’t recognize the child standing beside a woman who was on
all fours, attending to the weeds. The boy, like the woman, was wearing blue dungarees and had big eyes that seemed to fill his round face. His dark hair peeped out in wisps from under a blue
wide-brimmed hat.
    ‘My God,’ Alan breathed beside her. ‘Is that our Alfie?’
    Kay was too overwhelmed to reply as she stared at her son, magically transformed from a baby into a sturdy toddler since she had last held him in her arms ten months ago before Len and Doris had
taken him away.

Chapter Seven
    All Kay’s emotions were in turmoil as Doris caught sight of them and climbed to her feet. Kay watched breathlessly as Alfie held up his arms to Doris who lifted him with
practised ease onto her hip. As Alan pushed open the garden gate, Alfie’s plump hands went tightly around Doris’s neck.
    ‘Alfie?’ Kay called, but Alfie turned away and buried his face in Doris’s blonde hair.
    Alan slipped his hand to Kay’s waist, drawing her back a little. ‘Don’t rush him, Kay. We caught him by surprise.’
    Kay realized that she had to be patient though her disappointment was bitter.
    ‘Hello,’ Alan said to Doris, who looked at them with a frown.
    ‘So you’ve come,’ Doris replied, her hand going protectively to Alfie’s back.
    ‘Yes, of course.’ Kay had to restrain every muscle in her body from darting forward to Alfie. ‘We wouldn’t have let you down.’
    ‘Your letter only arrived this morning,’ Doris said hurriedly. She stepped aside from the fork and trowel that she had been using to dig in the rich brown earth.
    ‘I’m sorry about that,’ Kay apologized, her eyes fixed on Alfie. ‘Alan only found out about his days off last week.’
    Doris transferred Alfie to her other hip and nodded to the door. ‘Well, now you’re here, you’d best come in.’
    Kay was shocked to find this rather plump, rosy-cheeked woman wearing dungarees and a grubby green gardener’s apron with earth-covered fingers in place of the somewhat thin and pale
sister-in-law who she remembered as her brother’s wife. In ten months, Doris had blossomed. Obviously caring for Alfie had suited her. But what hurt Kay the most was Alfie’s reaction.
He seemed to have forgotten