The Forgotten Village

by Lorna Cook

  Oh no, Melissa thought. Oh no. Melissa squeezed Guy’s hand as they were led into a small office. A nurse signalled for him to sit down, but he remained standing.

  ‘Please wait here for just a moment.’ The nurse left.

  Guy turned to Melissa. ‘Where’s Mum? What the hell is going on?’

  But Melissa had a terrible feeling she knew what was going on and she really wanted to be wrong.

  Guy’s mother entered the room clutching tissues to her face, her eyes red and puffy.

  ‘Mum?’ Guy’s voice wavered.

  ‘She’s gone,’ his mum said.

  ‘No!’ he cried as he gathered his mum in his arms. She sobbed into his chest.

  The nurse stood by the door, giving mother and son time. Melissa slumped into a chair. As Guy looked over his mother’s shoulder at Melissa, his face wore an expression of absolute disbelief.

  ‘I’ll give you a few minutes and I’ll come back with some tea,’ the nurse said.

  ‘What happened?’ Guy asked his mum.

  ‘The nurse said they were unhappy with her breathing last night and she was deteriorating rapidly. They mentioned pneumonia and that her heart wasn’t able to cope. She was gone by the time I arrived this morning.’ Guy’s mum sniffed. ‘I’ve been sitting with her a few minutes. She looks very peaceful. Like she’s not really gone.’ Guy’s mum broke down and tears stained Guy’s shirt as he held her again.

  ‘I’ll let you two be alone.’ Melissa started to rise.

  ‘No, please stay.’ Guy’s mother collected herself. ‘Stay for Guy, please.’

  The nurse returned with a tray with three cups of tea and Guy asked her to confirm what his mum said. He brushed tears away from his eyes as the nurse explained, using far more complex terminology, what had happened to Anna overnight and how heart disease in the elderly wasn’t curable.

  When Guy and his mother had comforted each other, Melissa looked at the nurse and asked the dreaded question. ‘Why are the police here?’

  The nurse looked uncomfortable. ‘After you left, last night,’ the nurse said, nodding at Guy, ‘your grandmother asked me if she could make a phone call. She asked me to phone the police.’

  Guy sat down in a chair and rubbed his hand over his eyes. ‘Go on,’ he said from behind his hand. Melissa looked at him. His eyes were closed. He knew the reason why she’d made the phone call.

  ‘She said she needed to tell them something that couldn’t wait any longer, that it was something she should have done a very long time ago.’

  Melissa exhaled. Anna had been planning to confess. After all this time, she still wanted to confess. She’d intended to spare Guy the anxiety of dealing with Albert’s body. She had been planning to remove the burden entirely from her grandson.

  Guy looked at Melissa and the nurse’s eyes followed their interaction. Melissa looked away at a nondescript point on the wall.

  ‘I don’t suppose you know what it was about?’ the nurse asked.

  ‘I’ll talk to them in a minute,’ Guy said. ‘For now, I’d like to see my gran please.’

  While Guy and his mother sat with Anna’s body, Melissa prowled the corridor, giving them time. If she had smoked, now would be a great time for a cigarette. She stopped pacing and smiled politely as the two officers brushed past her. One cast her a confused look, the other patently ignored her.

  ‘Wait,’ Guy called from the ward doors.

  The officers spun round and Guy approached more sedately than Melissa was sure he felt.

  ‘While you’re here,’ Guy said, ‘I need to tell you something. This might not be for you at all. It might be a job for the military police given its location.’

  The officers looked confused.

  Guy continued, ‘Yesterday, I was somewhere I shouldn’t have been. I was taking a bit of a risk with my life and, well, with my career too no doubt. However,’ Guy said, pointedly avoiding Melissa’s gaze, ‘I broke into Tyneham House and went into the cellar.’

  Melissa watched the officers’ faces. It was clear that neither of them knew what Guy was talking about.

  ‘The old village that was requisitioned during the war? Anyway, I found a … skeleton down there.’ Guy was choosing his words carefully. He made it sound less exciting than if he’d found a five-pound note.

  One of the officers raised his eyebrows. The other started scribbling quickly in his notebook.

  ‘It’s old. Very old. No idea how long it’s been down there. At least since the war,’ Guy mused. ‘I think it’s the body of Freddie Standish, one of the brothers who lived there for a while.’

  ‘What makes you say that?’

  ‘Because I found these.’ Guy handed the lighter and cigarette case to one of the officers.

  Melissa’s heart thudded in her chest. She could see that Guy was thinking on his feet.

  ‘I know, I know. I shouldn’t have removed them,’ Guy said when the officer looked flustered. Guy placed the items inside an evidence bag that the officer produced from his pocket. ‘One for your cold-case team, I suppose?’ Guy asked.

  ‘Unlikely, given the age of the body, if it does turn out to be wartime. We’ll hand this over to those who need to know and we’ll be in touch. We’ll need a statement about how you came to find it, mind.’

  ‘I understand,’ Guy said. ‘Happy to help in any way I can and I should mention I dropped something down there: my friend’s phone, which I’d borrowed. Oh, you might want to inform your forensic team, before they go in, there’s a slight issue with the cellar staircase.’

  The first officer nodded and made a note, while the second one narrowed his eyes. ‘Any idea what it was your grandmother wanted to speak to us about?’

  Guy shook his head. ‘None whatsoever. I’m glad your journey wasn’t wasted though.’ Guy indicated the evidence bag.

  The officers said goodbye and then the second officer turned back and walked towards him. ‘Oh, one more thing, Mr Cameron.’

  A slight look of panic crossed Guy’s features. ‘Yes?’ he asked tentatively.

  ‘Could I get a picture with you? For the wife. She’s a huge fan.’

  CHAPTER 45

  Requisition Day, December 1943

  Veronica stood shivering in front of the gathering of over two hundred faces in the village square and desperately hoped none of them had heard the events of last night. Each one of the villagers was a familiar face and each looked expectantly at her and at Freddie, who was gripping her hand in fear. He looked as frightened as she. Veronica glanced into the crowd at Anna, who gave her an encouraging nod.

  Anna was back in the arms of her family, where she should have been all along, if only she’d gone when first told. Veronica thanked her silently for staying. If Anna hadn’t been there last night, Veronica would be dead. But she was alive, and despite what had happened she knew she finally had a chance for a better life. Anna’s brother William stood by his sister, his head angled to one side, eyeing his old friend Freddie curiously. Veronica looked into William’s eyes as his gaze drifted to hers. The young man who knew she’d been trying to run away acknowledged her and then turned his gaze back to Freddie, who was studiously ignoring him. Did William know it wasn’t Bertie standing next to her? If he did, there was nothing to be done now. It was a risk worth taking. They would face this for the rest of their lives. But William was the only one in the crowd who gave more than a cursory look to the brother who shouldn’t have been there.

  No one had liked Sir Albert. The villagers’ attendance at this event had been deemed obligatory by the vicar. In just a few moments, the crowd would be gone and this would all be over. She would be free.

  To Veronica, Freddie’s fear was palpable. He was worried that he couldn’t do it; that he’d never be able to pass as his brother. It wouldn’t be easy. But she would always be alongside him, for the rest of their lives, until they grew old and grey. She would love him until she could no longer breathe. They were doing this together. It was their only choice if
they were all going to get out of here alive, Anna included.

  Just a few words of encouragement were all that the villagers needed to assure them they were doing the right thing. It was something they could be proud of – giving the village to the troops to help them win the war. They were doing something that would go down in the history books as an act of sacrifice for their country.

  ‘Sir Albert?’ the vicar prompted, indicating it was time for the speech.

  The man at her side nodded, stepped forward a few paces and Veronica moved with him. He squeezed her hand tighter. Her fingers brushed over the thick gold wedding ring he was now wearing and she shuddered, remembering what had happened inside Bertie’s study.

  Veronica felt dizzy again and put her free hand to the back of her head to feel the large lump that had formed. She had managed to wash away most of the blood, of which there had been plenty, but a few traces of thick, oozing red liquid still appeared on her fingers when she pulled them out of her hair. She wiped it off on the black fabric of her dress. Black for mourning. She felt it appropriate given that today marked the death of the village.

  Freddie looked down at her, adjusting his grip, his expression blank, as if to check she was still there, as if he still couldn’t quite believe what was happening. And then he looked back towards the crowd to speak.

  CHAPTER 46

  Dorset, Autumn 2019

  The view from the terrace down to the beach was Melissa’s favourite from the house, with its panoramic sweep of the coastline. They had bought it last month, just over a year after Anna had passed away, when both Guy and Melissa realised that Dorset had a pull on them neither could ignore. The sun was just rising and had streamed into the room so brightly that at 7 a.m. she’d crept out onto the terrace to watch as the bay lit up below. She and Guy hadn’t got round to buying garden furniture yet, so Melissa stood against the metal and glass balustrades and stared down to the sea. The terrace balustrade was the only modern addition the previous owners had installed to the Victorian beachside cottage. Early morning surfers scrambled down to the beach and a gathering of wild swimmers greeted each other. Melissa shivered for them. Autumn was almost over and the air had a slight chill to it at this time of day. She pulled her robe around her tighter, fancying that the sea was always cold in Britain, regardless of time of year. But then, what did she know? She sipped her coffee and smiled as a strong pair of arms encircled her.

  There had been a frightening moment last year when the MOD had called Guy in to ask awkward questions. Why he’d taken it upon himself to venture inside Tyneham House had been the question at the top of their list. Afterwards, Melissa had joked that it was his celebrity status that had earned him some wrapped knuckles instead of a fine or even a prison sentence. In truth, neither of them knew what the punishment should really have been for breaking into the manor house. She shuddered to think.

  A year after the discovery she and Guy had made in Tyneham, Melissa thanked her lucky stars for her new life in Dorset. She knew now what real love was. She had found it with Guy. And all those years ago Veronica had found it with Freddie. True love, with its everlasting appeal of give and take; and trust, was surely one of the most important human needs. It was to Melissa. It had been for her parents, when they too, had eventually parted from each other and found the right person. Funny how it wasn’t always with the person you thought it would be.

  Guy, bleary-eyed, smelled the coffee cup pointedly and she laughed, turning in his arms and handing it to him.

  ‘We really need to get curtains for the bedroom windows soon,’ Guy said. ‘The sun has woken us up every day since we moved in.’

  Melissa looked over Guy’s shoulder at the cottage. The inside was a wreck, but they were planning to work on it slowly, when Guy wasn’t travelling and when Melissa wasn’t busy with Mr Oswell in his bookshop, getting the finer details of ordering, profit and loss sheets and understanding the needs of his nearest and dearest customers. The rooms in the cottage would come together, slowly. It was the sea views from almost every window that had won them both over. Melissa had been only too happy to wake up early every day, sip coffee and stand quietly, admiring the view. It was something she’d never been able to do in the London rat race. It would never get boring.

  ‘So,’ Guy said. ‘Today’s the day.’

  Melissa nodded.

  ‘I might pop in and say hi to Oswell Books’ new owner. I hear she’s incredibly sexy. I might take her out for lunch.’

  Melissa smiled. ‘I’ll be far too busy to entertain you. I might take Mr Oswell out for lunch instead though, actually. I’ll tell you all about my first day as owner later. I think it’s not going to be all that different to the past few months when I’ve been learning the ropes. I’m glad he’s staying on part-time though. I’m absolutely dreading doing this on my own.’

  ‘You’re not on your own, Melissa.’ Guy nuzzled her neck. ‘Well, I’ll let the two of you enjoy the first day of your new working arrangement together then. I’ll keep out the way. However …’ Guy spun Melissa around slowly so she could see the view again, and handed her the coffee cup. Melissa sipped the remaining coffee. ‘Obviously the first thing you’ll do is put my books somewhere really prominent in the shop,’ he said as he kissed her neck. ‘Eye-level. So they fly off the shelves, creating a stampede, if you will.’

  ‘Of course,’ Melissa said. ‘We’ve got a mortgage to pay after all.’

  EPILOGUE

  Scotland, December 1948

  ‘Count to ten and close your eyes. I’ll hide.’ Veronica giggled and ran as fast as her legs could carry her to the oak tree that stood proudly at the end of the grounds. When settled behind its shielding trunk, she stamped the snow from her boots and then regretted the action and the resulting noise that had reverberated dull and echoing around the thick white garden. She winced, expecting to be found within seconds.

  ‘Found you!’ the little girl cried out and clapped her mittens with glee.

  Veronica groaned but in truth there was nothing she loved more than seeing joy on the little girl’s face. ‘Well done, Anna.’ She bent to adjust her daughter’s woolly bobble hat, which was falling over her eyes. ‘One more go and then we’ll have to return to the house. It’s growing dark.’

  The little girl nodded. ‘My turn to hide.’

  ‘All right then.’ Veronica watched her daughter scamper off, her boots making little marks in what few patches of virgin snow remained.

  Little Anna turned. ‘Mummy, you aren’t supposed to watch me hide. That’s cheating. You have to close your eyes.’

  Veronica laughed. ‘Sorry.’ She turned back towards the pale, buff-coloured stone house and looked up at its chimneys as they pumped smoke and the comforting smell of a log fire into the air. Her attention was caught by the back door opening and she smiled as Freddie stepped out, buttoning up his coat as he walked towards her.

  ‘I brought your scarf out for you.’ He draped it round her neck and kissed her. She smiled into the face of the man she loved and he slipped his gloved hand in hers. ‘We still need to put out a drink and a mince pie for Father Christmas.’

  Veronica nodded.

  ‘Father Christmas prefers a gin and tonic, by the way.’ Freddie grinned.

  ‘Does he now?’ Veronica gave Freddie a knowing smile as he looked over her shoulder. ‘Where is she?’

  ‘Behind the potting shed this time.’ Freddie smiled.

  ‘Mummy,’ Anna shouted from behind the wooden structure. ‘It must be longer than ten seconds by now. Aren’t you coming?’

  Veronica and Freddie turned as their daughter tried to re-hide herself behind the shed. Together they ran to find her.

  Author’s Note

  My reimagining of the requisition of Tyneham merges many of the facts with fiction. The two hundred and twenty-five villagers were given about a month to pack up and move in December 1943. Under the cover of official secrecy, there were few clues available to the outside world as to what w
as happening in the sleepy coastal village. The main indications were the urgent auction notices in the newspapers for farming machinery and livestock owned by those who worked the land around the village.

  Tyneham sits at the bottom of a long and winding valley and leads down to a beach, Worbarrow Bay, which I renamed Tyneham Cove and where I imagined Veronica’s beach hut. Both the village and the bay were taken in order to train troops for D-Day due to their proximity to the already existing Lulworth gunnery ranges in the hills above.

  While most of Tyneham is a ruin, St Mary’s Church and the small single-room schoolhouse are the only remaining buildings intact. Both are preserved entirely as fascinating museums and relics of a former time. The school officially closed long before the requisition. When the coastguard station at Worbarrow Bay closed in 1912 and the coastguards and their families left the village, there were few children of school age left to attend and in the early 1930s the school closed.

  The once beautiful Tyneham House, home of Veronica and Albert in my story, was home to the Bonds, the owners of the house and the village. The house was requisitioned earlier in the war and one of its uses was to house members of the WAAF (Women’s Auxiliary Air Force). Sadly, the house no longer stands. In the 1960s it was demolished, deemed to be structurally unsafe. Although, there are those that believed, like the church and school, that the house could easily have been preserved.

  While the Tyneham of my story reopens to much fanfare in recent times, in reality and under much pressure from former residents, the village reopened for sporadic visits many years ago, but only on specific days of the year. However, sadly, Tyneham remains relatively unheard of. As do the other English villages requisitioned during the war for training purposes, including six villages in Norfolk now comprising an Army training village and Imber in Wiltshire.

  For the purposes of my story, I imagine the small population of Tyneham leaving together, in solidarity. But in reality the villagers removed themselves family by family shortly after the requisition order arrived. They took only what they thought they would need for the remainder of the war, having been told they would be able to return when the war was won.