Freda Lightfoot - Peace In My Heart

Born in Lancashire, FREDA LIGHTFOOThas been a teacher and a bookseller, and in a mad moment even tried her hand at the ‘good life’. A prolific and much-loved saga writer, Freda’s work is inspired by memories of her Lancashire childhood and her passion for history. For more information about Freda, visit her website: www.fredalightfoot.co.uk

Also by Freda Lightfoot

Historical Sagas

Lakeland Lily

The Bobbin Girls

The Favourite Child

Kitty Little

For All Our Tomorrows

Home is Where the Heart Is

Gracie’s Sin

Daisy’s Secret

Ruby McBride

Dancing on Deansgate

Watch for the Talleyman

Polly’s Pride

Polly’s War

House of Angels

Angels at War

The Promise

My Lady Deceiver

Always in My Heart

The Luckpenny Series

Luckpenny Land

Wishing Water

Larkrigg Fell

Poorhouse Lane Series

The Girl from Poorhouse Lane

The Woman from Heartbreak

House

Champion Street Market Series

Putting on the Style

Fools Fall in Love

That’ll Be the Day

Candy Kisses

Who’s Sorry Now

Lonely Teardrops

Women’s Contemporary Fiction

Trapped

Historical Romances

Madeiran Legacy

Whispering Shadows

Rhapsody Creek

Proud Alliance

Outrageous Fortune

Biographical Historical

Hostage Queen

Reluctant Queen

The Queen and the Courtesan

The Duchess of Drury Lane

Lady of Passion

Cover

About the Author Born in Lancashire, FREDA LIGHTFOOT has been a teacher and a bookseller, and in a mad moment even tried her hand at the ‘good life’. A prolific and much-loved saga writer, Freda’s work is inspired by memories of her Lancashire childhood and her passion for history. For more information about Freda, visit her website: www.fredalightfoot.co.uk

Title Page

Also by Freda Lightfoot

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

May 1945

The celebrations for the end of the war had gone wild, the streets on VE Day packed with jubilant revellers all singing, dancing and laughing, much to Joanne’s delight. There were rosettes, flags and bunting all around; lights on everywhere and a band playing. Her gaze shifted to the lilting waves as they lapped below the North Pier. She felt quite familiar with all the moods of the sea from gentle and benign, as it was today, to fiercely destructive when towering waves would fly over the promenade and small boats could be battered. Having adopted HMS Penelope , a ship the locals supported, they were devastated when it was tragically hit by a torpedo near Italy in 1944 and sank, killing 400 men. There had been a dreadful plane crash on Central Station and an air disaster in nearby Freckleton when a B-24 Liberator had crashed into the village school and houses killing over fifty people and dozens of children. The many airports had endured some problems throughout the war but the town had still welcomed holidaymakers in need of a little fun, and had generously provided accommodation to thousands of evacuees, including herself and her younger sister. Fortunately, Blackpool had suffered fewer disasters than many other places, certainly much less than Joanne’s hometown of Manchester. Life seemed to be rather like the sea, one moment calm and benevolent, the next cruel and harsh because of the horrors of war. But they’d found it a great place to live.

Thankfully the war was at last over, so hopefully things would improve. Looking out across the calm blue Irish Sea, the sandy beach was smooth and golden, stretching for some distance. Joanne had brought some sandwiches and cakes to contribute to the party they would all enjoy later. She’d even seen someone bring along a stack of odd-looking yellow pieces of fruit, which were apparently bananas, not something she’d ever tasted, and she greatly looked forward to savouring them.

‘God save the King,’ somebody called out. Cheers of joy met this cry, turning it into the national song.

Joanne glanced at her watch. Half past three. Her afternoon break would generally be almost over at this point. Lunchtime at the boarding house where they lived, the two landladies having cared for them this last three years, had been busy as usual with many wives having come to visit their RAF husbands. Joanne always looked forward to an hour or two of freedom in the middle of the afternoon when she could refresh herself in the sea air and sunshine. Those two dear sisters, Aunt Annie and Aunt Sadie, readily encouraged her to take a break, and today being one of celebration, there was no demand for her to rush back to work. No doubt they too were around somewhere enjoying this celebration. From where she stood on the promenade close to the Tower and the North Pier, Joanne watched her sister Megan happily dancing with Bernie, their landladies’ nephew. He’d first asked Joanne but she’d politely declined, anxious to sit and wait for Teddy to come, knowing in her heart that she could love no man but this GI.

Oh, but why hadn’t he arrived when he’d promised that he would, knowing she so enjoyed dancing with him? He was a most dapper and exciting GI, billeted in Garstang. Joanne did once visit him there to attend a dance at the village hall. She’d been shown around the camp, tripping along duckboards in her heeled shoes to view the Nissen huts, cookhouse and officers’ mess. It was a bit of a dump, packed with gallon drums, jeeps, fuel; wet clothing hanging on hedges or trees to dry that didn’t look at all proper. He’d taken her to see the tent where he and his mates were accommodated and had given her a cuddle and a kiss. She took care that he did no more than that, not wishing to be taken advantage of. Many girls were happy to lose their virginity with a man who could be killed in the war, something they felt they should not object to. Joanne was far more cautious being only seventeen, very young and innocent.

Oh, but how she loved him. These GIs were most attractive men and happy to come into Blackpool to visit one of the many pubs on the promenade, or enjoy the dancing at the Tower Ballroom, sometimes dressed as a civvie instead of in their uniform.

After the dance she and Teddy would often take a drink in a pub and she would sit on his lap for him to kiss and caress her, sending her senses skittering at the thrill of his touch. More often than not there were other girls hovering close by. Joanne paid them no heed, accustomed to the fact that these guys were never short of admirers, being popular men. And she was perfectly certain that Teddy viewed her as his favourite girl. Hadn’t he told her so a million times?