by Ellie Dean
Peggy felt a dart of hope which she quickly quelled.
‘Have you got anything to eat, Mum? Only I’m starving.’
Peggy rolled her eyes. ‘But you had an enormous tea at the club.’
‘That was hours ago, and I’ve only had a bag of chips since then.’ He got up to rummage about in the larder.
Alarmed, Peggy quickly pulled him out and firmly shut the door. ‘There’s soup in the pot on the stove, and bread in the crock. Everything else is for tomorrow.’
He grinned down at her just as his father used to do when he wanted his own way over something. ‘Are you sure I can’t have a bit of that tinned ham?’ he wheedled.
‘Positive,’ she replied, trying not to laugh.
‘Oh, Mum,’ he sighed, putting his arm round her shoulders. ‘I do love you, you know. And I’m sorry I’ve been such a pain.’
Peggy’s heart melted, for this was the first time her son had said anything close to an endearment, and it was the most precious of moments. ‘I love you too,’ she managed.
He drew her into his embrace and held her close for a moment and then softly kissed her cheek. ‘Sorry I haven’t done this before,’ he murmured. ‘But I’ve been all of a muddle.’
‘I know you have,’ she replied, fighting back her happy tears. ‘And I do understand why, Charlie.’ She smiled back at him. ‘But if you think this has softened me up into letting you have some ham, you’ve got another think coming.’
He tipped back his head and roared with laughter before hugging her again. ‘I’m happy with soup,’ he said finally.
Much later that night Peggy was warmed by the memory of that embrace and the joy of the moment when her son had finally accepted he was home. She didn’t know what had brought it about, and didn’t care, but she’d sneak him an extra slice of ham for lunch tomorrow – not just for his cheek, but because she was so happy to have her son back to his old self again.
Danuta had spent the previous Sunday getting the hang of driving on the left side of the road, doing hand signals and working out the gears. Jack Smith had been really patient with her, never raising his voice or giving exasperated sighs when she stalled the engine or crunched the gears.
The little car ran beautifully, and Danuta was absolutely thrilled with it. However, she was still suspicious that Jack was charging her far less than it was worth, and she’d queried the amount again. He fended her off and then quickly changed the subject, warning that she’d need to take a test before she was allowed to drive it on her own. Over the following week, he’d taken her out each evening, teaching her the Highway Code and making sure she knew what to expect from the examiner.
Danuta had passed the test yesterday, and had gone straight to Jack to proudly show him her licence, and they’d celebrated with a cup of tea and a bath bun from the bakery. Now it was Sunday morning, the weather was fine and Danuta planned to take Stanislaw out for a drive to cheer him up. Physically, he was very much better after resting quietly in bed and completely cutting out alcohol, but he’d been feeling very down these past few days. However, Danuta had a plan, and if things went as she hoped, then he would have something to work for and aim at.
She kept her plans to herself as she kissed Peggy and Cordelia goodbye and ran down the front steps to where her little car was parked at the kerb. She stood and admired it for a moment, then climbed in and gave a sigh of pleasure as she ran her fingers over the leather seat and mahogany dashboard. She still couldn’t quite believe she owned such a wonderful thing, but she’d decided it was definitely female and she would therefore call her Bessie – which echoed the registration plate BSI 4489.
Danuta drove carefully out of Cliffehaven towards the Cliffe estate, revelling in the sheer joy of making the journey so effortlessly after going everywhere by bicycle. She passed between the grand pillars and up the driveway and parked by the ramp which had been placed over the front steps to give the less mobile patients easier access to the grounds. Grabbing her handbag, she softly closed the car door and then ran up the steps, eager to see Stanislaw and show him her car.
She found him sitting in his room staring gloomily out of the window, clearly deep in thought. ‘Hello, there. My goodness, you’ve got a long face for such a lovely day,’ she said cheerfully.
He looked up at her sorrowfully, and held out his arms. ‘I have missed you,’ he said, gathering her on to his lap and kissing her. ‘Why you not come to see me yesterday?’
She perched there within his embrace. ‘I did tell you, Stanislaw. I was working all day and then taking my driving test – and I passed. So come on, let’s go for a lovely drive in the country.’
‘You are clever girl,’ he said, giving her another kiss and then regarding her thoughtfully. ‘You are beautiful and have good life, Danuta, with so many things to still achieve. Perhaps it is not wise for you to tie yourself to a man who will only be a burden.’
Danuta moved from his lap and looked down at him. ‘That’s defeatist talk,’ she said in Polish. ‘And I won’t have it. You are perfectly capable of doing many things if only you put some effort into it.’
He shrugged and couldn’t meet her gaze. ‘I have tried. But is no use. I cannot walk, and without legs, I am only half a man and cannot provide for you.’
Danuta realised he was in one of his darker moods, so instead of arguing with him, she fetched his prosthetic legs and held them out to him. ‘Are you going to sit and sulk here all day, Stanislaw? I have plans for us, and you will spoil my surprise if you don’t put these on and come with me.’
He heaved a great sigh, and then muttered a litany of moans under his breath as he slowly began to strap the legs on.
Danuta ignored the comments about bossy women and how a man couldn’t be left in peace, and handed him the walking sticks. ‘I know the stumps haven’t fully healed yet,’ she said, ‘so you can’t walk too far. Therefore, I shall put the wheelchair in the boot of my car.’
‘I’m not using that,’ he grumbled.
‘We’ll see,’ she murmured, steadying him as he struggled to his feet and balanced himself with the walking sticks.
She collected the wheelchair and followed him closely as he began the long walk down the corridor, ready to push the chair beneath him should he falter. They eventually reached the front door. ‘There,’ she said. ‘That wasn’t so difficult, was it?’
He scowled and grunted, and then eyed the little car. ‘Is very small,’ he grumbled. ‘I not fit in that.’
‘Bessie is big enough to take you and the wheelchair,’ she retorted.
He eyed her quizzically. ‘Bessie? You give the car a name?’
‘Yes,’ she said firmly.
He broke into a chuckle. ‘I will never understand you women,’ he said. ‘But if I can fit into that, it will be a miracle.’
Danuta was actually having second thoughts herself, but was determined not to let him see that. She wheeled the chair down to the car, and then came back to steady him as he slowly negotiated the ramp.
Opening the car door, she waited for him to position himself and then lower his rump onto the seat – which he did with an alarming thud that rocked the little car and made the springs complain.
Trying not to think about the damage he might be doing to her precious Bessie, she took the sticks from him, then lifted up his legs and tucked them into the well beneath the dashboard. It was a tight fit, for his head touched the roof, he took up one and a half seats, and his prosthetic knee-joints had to stay bent even with the seat ramped back as far as it would go.
‘I feel as if I am ship in bottle,’ he grumbled. ‘I hope we not go too far.’
Danuta closed the door on his grumbling and quickly folded up the wheelchair to put into the boot. It wouldn’t fit, no matter which way she tried, and she was almost at the point of giving up when a helpful porter came along with some rope and lashed the boot handle to the back bumper.
Thanking him profusely, she climbed into the car, found she was squashe
d between the door and Stanislaw and had to wriggle about to get comfortable behind the steering wheel. The handbrake was digging into Stanislaw’s bottom, and when she released it, he sighed gratefully.
‘I hope we are not going far,’ said Stanislaw. ‘We are like beans in a can, and it is very hot in here.’
‘Then we must open the windows,’ she said, winding hers down. They were indeed like beans in a can, she realised as she drove away from the recuperation centre, but it was just something they’d have to get used to if he wasn’t to be stuck at Cliffe every day.
‘Where are we going?’ he asked as she turned out of the driveway onto the country road.
‘You’ll find out any minute now,’ she replied, the excitement bubbling up inside her.
Stanislaw folded his arms. ‘We will have lunch there?’ he asked hopefully.
‘Probably not,’ she admitted. ‘But then you must have only just had breakfast.’ She drove past the fields where a farmer was ploughing to the accompaniment of a flock of seagulls, and then slowed to turn off through the open gates leading to the airfield.
‘Why we come here?’ he demanded, shifting in his seat and making the springs twang.
‘Because today is the inaugural flight of the new freight service,’ she replied, bringing the car to a standstill. ‘Kitty, Charlotte, Roger and Martin will be here with Anne, the children and everyone from Beach View to celebrate.’
‘You should have told me, Danuta,’ he gasped. ‘I would have brought champagne.’
Danuta didn’t reply as she drove down the newly laid track past the Nissen huts which had been developed into weather-proofed, comfortable homes for the men and their families who would work for this new venture. She knew that many of them had been out of work and virtually homeless before Roger and Martin had started recruiting, and they’d worked hard to turn the derelict Nissen huts into decent dwellings and bring the airfield back into a serviceable state.
‘There has been much work here,’ murmured Stanislaw as they passed the reconstructed control tower and drove parallel to the smooth, weed-free runway. ‘Oh, look,’ he said excitedly, ‘a pair of DC-47s.’
Danuta smiled inwardly and continued down the track to the far end of the field where a large gathering clustered around a sturdy wooden hut bedecked with bunting. She’d known Stanislaw’s interest would be piqued by the sight of the planes, and she just hoped that the excitement of the day would chase away his depression and give him something new to think about.
She parked the car a little distance away from the office hut and it was instantly surrounded; the door was thrust open and Stanislaw almost unceremoniously hauled out to be embraced by his fellow flying officers, and introduced to the ground crew.
Danuta smiled as she saw the light return to his eyes. Stan hadn’t flown with Roger or Martin, but the brotherhood of airman was tight-knit, and soon he was laughing and joking, and making his way towards the planes.
Danuta realised she’d been forgotten in the joy of this meeting, but that was all part of the plan, and as Kitty helped her to free the wheelchair, they shared a knowing smile.
‘That’ll be the last we’ll see of any of them for a while,’ said Kitty cheerfully. ‘Once they get talking planes, we might as well not be here. Come and have a cup of tea, Danuta. Charlotte baked a lovely Victoria sponge, I made some sandwiches, and the other wives brought all sorts of goodies, so no one will go hungry.’
‘I did not expect so many people to come,’ said Danuta, eyeing the large crowd.
‘We felt we had to celebrate properly and involve everyone who put so much time and effort into this venture. We couldn’t have done it without them, and this is a very special day for all of us.’
‘How is Charlotte feeling about it all?’ Danuta asked quietly.
‘A mixture of sadness that Freddy can’t be here and a sense of pride that we’ve seen all our plans come to fruition.’ Her smile wavered. ‘It’s how we both feel, really, but this isn’t a day for looking back. Freddy wouldn’t have wanted us to.’
She linked arms with Danuta and they walked over the uneven grass towards the gathering. ‘So, do you think your plan will work on Stanislaw?’
‘With some help from you, yes, I think it is very possible,’ Danuta replied, glancing across at the men who were inspecting every inch of the cargo planes with their bright new logo of a phoenix emblazoned on their tails. ‘I like the phoenix,’ she said.
‘We decided on it because it represents new beginnings from the ashes of the war, and Phoenix Air Freight is much more memorable than what we first thought up.’
She stopped and turned to Danuta. ‘I will do my very best to encourage him, Danuta, and have coached Roger and Martin to do the same. But you do realise he has a very long way to go?’
Danuta nodded. ‘Of course I do, and I will be with him every step of the way.’
Kitty grinned. ‘I hope he realises how very lucky he is to have you by his side.’
Danuta giggled. ‘Every day I tell him this, so he knows.’
The morning sped past as she was introduced to the wives and families of the ground crew, drank tea, chatted to Peggy, Anne and Cordelia, and kept a watchful eye on Stanislaw who was in danger of getting worn out from all the walking and standing.
Ron and Frank turned up with the dogs, shortly followed by Brendon, Betty and baby Joseph. It became a real family gathering with children and dogs racing about as the women gossiped and the men went into huddles to talk engines and flight paths and the vagaries of the weather.
As midday approached the men dispersed and Roger and Martin returned with their co-pilots, dressed in their flying gear. An expectant hush fell over them all and even the children stopped playing to watch the men kiss their loved ones and then stride across to the planes. Climbing up the steps, each man waved before the door was shut.
A breathless silence fell to be broken by the splutter and roar of the powerful engines. Chocks were hauled away, another brief wave from the cockpit window, and the first DC-47 raced down the runway and lifted up into the sky, shortly followed by the second.
A huge cheer went up and everyone waved, but the two cargo planes were now almost beyond the edges of the cliffs and lifting higher and higher above the English Channel, the sound of their engines fading.
‘I wish I was with them,’ sighed Kitty, holding Charlotte’s hand. ‘Still, our turn will come soon enough with so many orders to fulfil.’
Stanislaw had chosen to ignore the wheelchair and was jammed into a deckchair. He shaded his eyes against the sun until the two planes were mere specks in the distance. ‘Roger tells me you were both ATA girls,’ he said. ‘I met many such beautiful girls in the war. They were all very brave.’
‘There was nothing brave about it,’ said Charlotte. ‘We were merely doing a job. But we both miss it, don’t we, Kitty?’
‘Indeed we do, but now I’m expecting again, I shall soon be grounded by Roger, who seems to think being pregnant will make me extra delicate and unable to think straight.’
Stanislaw smiled, but his thoughts were clearly elsewhere. ‘You lost a leg, and yet you are flying again.’
‘It wasn’t easy,’ admitted Kitty. ‘I had a lot of very hard work to do before I could be passed fit enough.’ She grinned and sat next to him, deliberately letting her prosthetic lower leg show from beneath the cuff of her linen trousers.
‘But flying gets into the blood, doesn’t it?’ Kitty went on. ‘I just knew I couldn’t give it up, so I did everything I could to climb back into a plane and feel that adrenaline rush of taking off and soaring through the skies.’ She grinned. ‘There’s nothing quite like it, is there? Did Roger tell you that I flew us both away from our wedding reception?’
Stanislaw nodded thoughtfully, his gaze fixed on her leg. ‘How long did it take you to be passed fit?’
‘Almost a year, I think. It felt much longer, and I had some very bad days as well as good ones. But I never gave up, Stan, a
nd it was all worth it in the end.’
Danuta watched as Stanislaw digested this in silence. Kitty was doing a brilliant job of jolting him out of feeling sorry for himself and opening up a whole world of possibilities.
‘Would it be difficult for a man like me with no legs to fly again?’ he asked quietly.
‘Douglas Bader managed it through the war until he had to bail out over Germany, and was taken prisoner,’ said Kitty. ‘I hear he still flies for pleasure, even now.’
‘But will someone employ such a man now the war is over?’
‘I’m sure that if he’s competent and has passed all the medical requirements, he’d be snapped up,’ said Kitty.
‘It is something to think about,’ he murmured. ‘Thank you, Kitty. You are an inspiration.’
He struggled to lever himself up from the chair and gave up with a roar of laughter. ‘Perhaps it is wise for me to learn to get out of chair before I climb into cockpit,’ he said, his eyes dancing with humour. ‘May I ask someone to be so kind as to unplug me?’
There was a great deal of laughter and joking as Stanislaw was hauled out of the chair and onto his feet, but he took it all with great humour. ‘I think now I must return to Cliffe. Thank you all for a most pleasant and informative morning.’
Danuta’s plan to spur Stanislaw out of his misery and give him something exciting to think about had worked. She was to discover over the following months that he was now determined to fly again, and she watched with admiration and heart-stopping concern as he used all that stubbornness and strength to push himself to the very limit of his endurance.
Doris felt she must be positively glowing she was so happy. The honeymoon had been a triumph in every way, with the first-class hotels, the meals, the lovemaking, and of course the wonderful views and walks in the Lake District.
John drew the car up to the kerb and switched off the engine. ‘Here we are, my darling,’ he said. ‘Home safe and sound.’ He climbed out of the car and went round to open the door and help her out. ‘Do you want me to carry you over the threshold?’ he asked with a naughty twinkle in his eye.