Such Sweet Sorrow Quotes

“we”
― Katie Flynn, Such Sweet Sorrow

“both father and daughter, to have time together with no other distractions. Neil’s ship had docked on the Wednesday and he had come round to Crocus Street to pick up the presents he had been unable to give Libby the previous Christmas. It was only then that Marianne had realised how their daughter had matured since Neil had last seen her. Libby never played with dolls now, only skipped with a rope in the schoolyard since there was nowhere suitable at Tregarth, and had long outgrown the angora cardigan. But she knew her daughter well enough to be sure that Libby would not dream of upsetting her father by letting him see her disappointment, and had looked forward to Neil’s return, when he could tell her how Libby went on. But within a very short space of time, Marianne was far too occupied to wonder what Libby and her father were doing, for on the night of 1 May, while Neil was safely ensconced at Tregarth, Liverpool suffered its worst raid of the war so far. The planes started coming over just before eleven o’clock, and bombs simply rained down on the city. Fires started almost immediately. The docks were hit and the constant whistle and crash as the heavy explosives descended meant that no one slept. Mr Parsons had been fire watching, though the other lodgers had been in bed when the raid started and had taken to the shelters along with Gammy and Marianne. Mr Parsons told them, when he came wearily home at breakfast time next day, that he had never seen such destruction. By the end of the week, Marianne, making her way towards Pansy Street to make sure that Bill’s lodgings were still standing and that Bill himself was all right, could scarcely recognise the streets along which she passed. However, Pansy Street seemed relatively undamaged and when she knocked at Bill’s lodgings his landlady, Mrs Cleverley, assured her visitor that Mr Brett, though extremely tired – and who was not? – was fine. ‘He’s just changed his job, though,’ she told Marianne. ‘He’s drivin’ buses now, instead of trams, because there’s so many tramlines out of commission that he felt he’d be more use on the buses. And of course he’s fire watchin’ whenever he’s norrat work. Want to come in for a drink o’ tea, ducks? It’s about all that’s on offer, but I’ve just made a brew so you’re welcome to a cup.’ Marianne declined, having a good deal to do herself before she could get a rest, but she felt much happier knowing that Bill was safe. Their friendship had matured into something precious to her, and she realised she could scarcely imagine”
― Katie Flynn, Such Sweet Sorrow

“in the middle. You have to be strong and leave well alone.’ ‘Oh, but suppose it’s a bit too hot and the cakes burn?’ Libby wailed. ‘My mother is a really good cook. It would be awful to give her burnt cake; don’t you think perhaps . . . ?’ ‘Oh, Libby, use your loaf,’ Matthews implored. ‘You can cut burnt off, but there’s nothing you can do if it goes all slimy in the middle and I must say,’ he added, beginning to pile utensils into the yellow bowl, ‘the mixture tastes absolutely delicious. I think raw cake is even nicer than the cooked sort.’ He intercepted Libby’s longing glance towards the oven and chuckled. ‘You start the washing up and I’ll dry, then we’ll put all the things away, and by the time we’ve done that, the cake will very likely be cooked.’ The cake was a great success; Libby lovingly clapped the two halves together with raspberry jam in between, and wrote Welcome, Mummy and Daddy in her very best writing. Icing had not been available since the beginning of the war, but a piece of white card propped up on top of the cake was the next best thing. However, it was only Neil who came striding across the yard halfway through Thursday afternoon. Libby and Matthew had been hanging about the lane all day but as luck would have it had gone back to the house to lay the table for high tea when their visitor arrived. Neil gave a shout, stood his suitcase and bag down and caught Libby as she”
― Katie Flynn, Such Sweet Sorrow

“warned that an invasion called off one October might easily take place the next. Yes, it was better to be safe than sorry. Bill began to hum a popular tune of the moment – I found my thrill, on Blueberry Hill – and smiled to himself. Libby had been disappointed when the telegram had arrived putting off her Christmas visit to Liverpool, especially as it would have meant seeing her beloved father after so many months apart.”
― Katie Flynn, Such Sweet Sorrow