Harpers Heroes

by Rosie Clarke

  This next tour of duty would be more dangerous; he was leaving for France at the end of the week, accompanying a convoy of goods the soldiers and nurses desperately needed. The last two convoys sent by conventional means in trucks had been attacked by German pilots diving and shooting at them from above, and most of what they carried was destroyed; it meant lives were lost and Ben had been asked to plan a route that was safer – if one could be found. He’d decided that they would take the supplies part of the way in fishing boats from the Channel Islands and then go ashore in rowing boats to a remote part of the French coast. The supplies would then be transported on pack ponies to their destination, just like the Cornish and Devon smugglers of old. Some French partisans were due to meet them at the beaches – and would show them the safe routes Ben had seen from the air. He would accompany one contingent of supplies and several others would set out for other destinations at the same time. That way they split the risk and at least some of the supplies ought to get through.

  The idea had been discussed for several days before being approved by headquarters. Some officials thought it too dangerous and slow, but Ben had pushed his idea, because too many ships were being caught near France and came under terrible fire, and any vehicle seen on the main roads would be bombed. Merchant ships had been damaged and one partially sunk when it was almost at its destination, needing evacuation and all goods were lost. Even buses requisitioned from London had suffered a similar fate travelling by road, so Ben had come up with the idea of the rowing boats and the ponies, travelling across fields rather than by road. A small fishing boat wouldn’t be noticed or suspected of carrying important supplies; the ponies could go by way of remote villages and lanes – and they could travel by night. It would still be dangerous, though the more obvious routes were the ones the Germans were attacking from the air. It would be slower, potentially dangerous, and was a big risk, but he couldn’t see it was a worse risk than the more conventional routes which were regularly bombed and ambushed.

  Turning, he looked at Sally and saw she was fast asleep. It was hell having to leave her so soon, especially after he’d promised her that he would be based in London for a while. Their week had half gone already and it seemed like five minutes. It was amazing how precious time became when there wasn’t much of it. After this, his posting was officially London for a while, providing he made it back from this mission…

  Sally was stirring, opening her eyes and looking at him sleepily. ‘What’s wrong, love? Can’t you sleep?’ she said softly.

  ‘I thought I heard Jenny,’ he said, ‘but she’s fine.’ He went back to the bed and crawled in beside her, taking her into his arms. Her skin was warm and delicious next to his and he felt his desire stirring once again.

  ‘Did I ever tell you how gorgeous you are and how much I love you?’ he asked as he gathered her to him.

  ‘All the time,’ she murmured and nibbled at his ear. ‘You’re not bad yourself, Ben Harper.’

  Sally counted the days and then the hours. Ben was with her almost every moment of every day and she sensed there was something that he wasn’t telling her, but wouldn’t ask. If he couldn’t or didn’t choose to tell her, she mustn’t press for details. Their love was based on trust and understanding and they were so close she picked up his thoughts much of the time and that’s why she knew this next parting was serious in some way.

  That morning after they got up, Ben spent half an hour just sitting on a stool in Jenny’s bedroom watching her sleep. Sally saw the look in his eyes and her blood ran cold. Ben was absorbing every detail of her face so that he could take it with him. She could feel his eyes on her too, drinking her in when he stood up, coming to Sally and taking her into his arms. He didn’t kiss her but just held her close, his face against her hair.

  ‘You smell wonderful,’ he said. ‘It isn’t perfume, it’s just you, my darling.’

  ‘I love you, Ben,’ she said, looking up at him. Her throat was tight with emotion and she could only whisper, ‘Come back to me safe, please.’

  ‘I shall,’ he promised and his voice was strong, his look confident. ‘It’s only a trip to the coast, Sally.’

  She nodded. He was keeping something inside and it was killing him to lie to her so she reached up and kissed his lips tenderly. ‘Whatever it is, you have to do it – and I love you for who and what you are.’

  ‘I know – that’s why I can go.’ He smiled, bending his head to kiss her again. ‘Take care of our little one, Sally. I’ll be back as soon as I can…’

  She watched as he picked up his suitcase and left the apartment. Ben didn’t look back. If he had, she would have begged him not to go, but perhaps if he’d looked back, he couldn’t have left.

  Hearing a little cry from her daughter, Sally went to the cot and picked her up. She was wet and needed changing. Thank goodness for babies and their needs! You had to look after them and that meant you couldn’t brood or collapse into tears.

  Lifting her head, Sally got on with her day. Whatever happened, she had to continue her life for Jenny’s sake – and there were others who needed her help. The staff of Harpers were relying on her to keep the shop going. Mr Stockbridge was the manager, of course, and helped as much as he could, but Sally was the lifeblood of the store. She was the one whose ideas made it bright and vibrant despite some shortages on the shelves. Then there were the injured men she’d pledged herself to help if she could – men like Captain Maclean, who was lying there longing for death. She didn’t know why she couldn’t get the look of desperation in his eyes out of her head.

  After talking it through with Ben, Sally had made up her mind; she would ring Newcastle again and if there was no change of attitude from his secretary, she would go up on the train and see if she could badger Mr Alexander into coming down to take a look.

  Sally shivered in the bitter wind as she got down from the train in Newcastle. It had been a long journey and it was far colder up here than back in London. She’d shed a few tears alone in her bed the previous night. Ben hadn’t told her anything, but she sensed it wasn’t just the south coast of England this time. Her instincts told her that Ben would be in danger but she’d suppressed her fears. He had to do his job and she had to do hers.

  She’d left Jenny with Mrs Hills, who was staying in the apartment for a couple of days so that the baby wouldn’t be too unsettled.

  ‘She’ll miss you,’ Mrs Hills had told Sally before she left, ‘but she’s taken to the bottle well and I promise you I shall make sure she’s fine.’

  ‘You have the telephone number of the hotel I’ll be staying at overnight?’ Sally had asked. ‘I’ll ring you in the evening as soon as I can.’

  ‘Yes, of course, but she will be perfectly all right, Mrs Harper. I’ve had three of my own, remember.’

  Sally had fretted as she caught her train in London. She knew nothing about the northern city other than it took more than five hours to get there. Her conscience was troubling her as she thought about leaving her little girl with Mrs Hills. Was she neglecting her child? Supposing something happened and she was hundreds of miles away…

  No, of course nothing would happen. Jenny did look for her mother and she might grizzle a bit if she wasn’t there to give her a cuddle when she woke, but Mrs Hills was like a doting grandmother to her and knew how to comfort her. Pearl loved her too and, being a nurse, would know if she needed medical attention. So, she was fretting for nothing!

  Sally squared her shoulders. She’d taken this task on herself and if she could possibly do it, she would secure the services of this elusive consultant surgeon by hook or by crook. A little smile touched her lips. He was just another man, surely, he couldn’t be too much of a monster?

  She hailed a taxicab and asked to be taken to the offices of Mr Alexander in Westgate Street. The man looked at her as if she’d landed from Mars and in the end she wrote down the address for him.

  ‘Howay, why did you not say?’ he asked scornfully, clearly dismissing her as an
ignorant Southern woman.

  Sally waited for him to take her case, but he didn’t so she half threw it into the back of the cab. He looked at her stony face and when they arrived at the modest office, he wrote down the price of her fare. It was fair, she knew, so the man was honest but just scornful of a woman whom he saw as a rich Londoner.

  When Sally walked into the office, a sour-faced woman looked up from her work. ‘Name?’ she barked at her. ‘Appointment time?’

  ‘Mrs Harper. I’ve rung several times and I made an appointment for this afternoon. I believe I am half an hour early.’

  ‘So it appears,’ the woman said and glared at her. ‘And didn’t I tell you that Mr Alexander hasn’t the time to come down to London?’

  ‘Yes, I know – but this is an exceptional case,’ Sally said. ‘If Mr Alexander will just take a moment to hear me out…’

  ‘And is this case of yours more deserving than fifteen children covered in first-degree burns?’ the woman demanded fiercely. ‘Trapped, they were, in the orphanage and six of them died of their injuries – fifteen are so badly burned they may yet die. And then there are our own men, soldiers burned giving their all for their country…’

  ‘Yes, I do understand that,’ Sally said, ‘but Mr Alexander is needed just as much in London – could he not spare just one day a week for us?’

  ‘And if I did – what would happen to my patients here?’ the voice had a definite northern accent but was far more understandable than the taxi driver’s had been.

  Sally whirled round and found herself facing a tall thin man, perhaps forty or so, with greying hair at the sides. His eyes were narrowed and angry, his mouth hard, and yet he was an attractive man with something that she immediately recognised as class and confidence.

  ‘I’m not asking you to desert them, sir,’ Sally said in a respectful tone, because this man commanded it just by his presence. ‘I’m just asking you to consider giving us one day a week – even if you worked on a Saturday or Sunday. I’m sure we could find a nursing team to give up their day off to assist you…’ She held her breath, knowing she was pushing it, perhaps being too bold or even impertinent. Yet in her efforts to help the men so terribly wounded, she felt it was worth risking the rough edge of his tongue.

  His eyes were like wet steel as he looked at her. ‘Supposing I said I prefer my own team?’

  ‘I should say that you’re just making difficulties.’ Sally glared right back at him, suddenly angry. ‘If you won’t come to London, will you help them here if I arrange transport here and back?’

  ‘You’re a persistent young woman,’ Mr Alexander said and his mouth firmed into an annoyed line.

  Sally’s heart sank because she knew she had only one last card. ‘I’ve heard you’re the very best in your field and I’ll do anything to help these men,’ she said and crossed her fingers behind her back. ‘Even if I have to bring a surgeon over from America…’

  ‘Rubbish,’ he said and his gaze was piercing, but there was a hint of something more, as though she’d touched a nerve somehow. He hesitated a moment, then, ‘I will visit this Sunday – and if I consider I can help this patient, I shall have him brought here by my own ambulance, but I make the decisions. I decide if he is a candidate for my time.’ His eyes flashed with sudden fire. ‘Is that enough for you, Mrs Harper?’

  She felt the force of his personality and held down her surge of elation. This man was worth all the time and energy she’d invested. She felt it instinctively and was glad she’d gone that extra mile – or several hundred miles, as it happened.

  ‘Thank you so much! It’s more than I dared hope for,’ she said and smiled. ‘I am sure you will think Captain Maclean a worthwhile case, as are others. I am very grateful to you for seeing me and listening.’

  ‘I’ve no doubt they all are,’ he said gruffly. ‘But I can’t split myself into six, Mrs Harper.’ He gave her another piercing look. ‘I’m going to visit my clinic. You will accompany me – and then tell me your patients are more important than mine…’

  Sally closed her eyes as the train moved off on its long journey back to London the next morning and she could feel the tears trickling down her cheeks. She knew that she would never forget the sight of those children lying there, side by side in neat rows. Their injuries were horrific, equally as terrible as Captain Maclean’s and perhaps even more pitiful.

  She’d seen the way those that were conscious and able to understand lit up when Andrew Alexander walked to their bedside and asked them in his gruff voice how they were. He had a special way with him that brought comfort and even a laugh from critically injured children and that laughter broke Sally’s heart.

  Afterwards, he’d walked her back to the canteen and bought her a cup of coffee. ‘Now, Mrs Harper, do you still think I’m a stubborn ignorant pig of a Geordie?’

  ‘I never did, sir,’ Sally had protested, even though she’d seen the glint of rough humour in his eyes. ‘But if I had, I should be ashamed now – and I do understand why you were too busy to answer the calls of a foolish woman…’

  ‘Nay, not foolish,’ he’d said and his smile was the same caress that he’d bestowed on his children. ‘I do not blame yer for being a woman – but you’re a very persistent woman and I admire your resourcefulness.’ He’d looked at her oddly. ‘You must be a busy woman, Mrs Harper – tell me, why did you take the time to come up here – is Captain Maclean a relative?’

  ‘No. I just felt strongly that he – and others like him – deserve the best, and you are the best, aren’t you?’ Sally had looked up at him challengingly.

  ‘That makes you either very stubborn or quite special,’ he’d replied thoughtfully. ‘We shall see…’ Suddenly, his eyes had sparked with mischief. ‘And I’ll do my best, Mrs Harper – but only on condition that you stop calling me sir. My name is Andrew…’

  ‘And mine is Sally,’ she’d said and smiled. ‘And I’ll try not to be a nuisance in future, but I can’t promise I won’t telephone.’

  ‘I’ll be offended if you don’t,’ he’d said and she’d seen the humour in his eyes once more. ‘You’ve got your way, Sally Harper. I’ll be coming down when I’m able, if you have any patients for me, so don’t you go fetching that fancy surgeon over from America, can’t abide those chaps who charge a fortune for their work.’ His gaze had met hers consideringly. ‘You would really have done it, wouldn’t you?’

  ‘Yes, and I’ll be happy to contribute to your work for the children, Andrew – tell me what you need for them and I’ll do my best to supply it.’

  ‘Now that is the best offer I’ve had all year. I’ll be bringing a list with me on Sunday and don’t think I won’t ask.’

  Again, she’d seen that twinkle in his eyes and she’d liked him. He was a stern man, but he had a heart of gold and she was glad that she’d persisted and forced him to meet her. Andrew Alexander was not only a brilliant constructive surgeon far advanced beyond most of his fellow surgeons, he was an interesting man and Sally was glad that she’d secured his help for her terribly injured men.

  Her tears had gone now and her mind was back with Harpers and her baby once more. She’d telephoned Mrs Hills the previous evening and been assured everything was well, but she wouldn’t be at ease until she was home and could see for herself.

  Not for the first time, Sally understood how lucky she’d been when she applied for that job as a sales assistant at Harpers. Ben had fallen in love with her and she with him and it had given her a wonderful life. She had so many people to think of and care for and she couldn’t wait to get back to her work and make sure the business did not suffer more than need be because of this war.

  They’d lost so many of Harpers’ young men to the Army. As she sat on the train homeward, Sally’s thoughts were with those she knew to be serving their country. Salesmen and the young lad from the porter’s basement – and Mr Marco, their clever window dresser. She missed him more than she’d ever thought she would and knew she wasn’t alone
. Only a couple of days previously, they’d received a postcard from Sussex, where he must be training, to tell them he was fine and would come to see them when he could; he’d said he was thinking of them, and Sally had made sure his card got passed round the departments, because everyone missed their charming and flamboyant window dresser. Harpers’ windows were still well dressed, but not with quite as much flair in Sally’s opinion. She helped where she could, but there was no doubting Mr Marco had a special talent. She just hoped he would come back to them when the war was over and the last time they’d spoken, she’d told him to keep his head down and not be a hero.

  ‘I expect they will put me behind a desk,’ he’d joked. ‘I’ll be a pen-pusher, Mrs Harper, that’s the closest I’ll come to the war, you’ll see. The only danger I’ll be in is of permanently inky fingers.’

  His sense of humour had caused her to laugh as he’d intended and made the parting easier, but she did miss their little chats. Mr Marco had always been so encouraging about the stock she chose, telling her she had a natural talent for it and she supposed he was right. Ben and Jenni had thrown her in at the deep end, leaving her in charge of the buying while they returned to America, and at the time she’d been nervous of making a mistake and being demoted again.

  ‘I could never have done that to you,’ Ben had told her once when she’d revealed her fears. ‘I knew you had talent from the start when we spoke about Selfridge’s window displays – but even if you hadn’t, I wanted you near me and it was the best way, to make you an important part of the firm.’

  ‘Oh, Ben,’ she’d whispered huskily. ‘I never guessed how you felt, not once.’

  ‘I couldn’t let you,’ he’d said. ‘I wasn’t free and I daren’t tell you how much I cared for you.’

  Sally’s eyes pricked with the tears she refused to shed. Both Ben and Mr Marco were in the Army now and she had to be strong. She had to keep Harpers afloat during these difficult times so that when her husband and her friends returned, they would have a job to come to. Once again, the success or failure of Harpers was in her hands.