Duggie didn’t make any comment on the rights or wrongs of her deduction but instead asked, ‘And how do you feel about that?’
‘Relieved, I suppose. Thankful that the hot blood that runs through his veins doesn’t taint mine or any children I might have.’ The mention of children churned her insides but she avoided the opportunity offered to tell him her news. Instead she went on, ‘It’s Mam I fear for. If it’s true, then she’s in danger, and I don’t know what I can do to help her. We both ran away and left her, my brother and I. Since then I’ve heard nothing. I don’t even know where Sid is and he certainly doesn’t know where to find me if anything has happened to her.’
He hugged her, touched her cheek with his lips, offering her comfort and waiting for her to continue.
‘Until now I’ve despised her for not standing up for me, for allowing him to treat us so badly, but now, if what I think is true she’s more in need of sympathy than criticism.’
‘How does this connect to your sister’s death?’
‘She must have been the one who let it out. She was fifteen years older than me, she would have known.’
‘Hardly a reason to… do what she did.’
‘Killing the messenger, isn’t that what they say? His anger was in need of a target and she was it. She must have been terrified by his reaction. You’ve no idea how frightening my father could be. He’d block out all reason, make you unable to think. I honestly believe I’d have confessed to anything once he started on me with his accusations.’
‘The thing you must remember, Ethel love, is that few men are like your father. Loving someone, being loved in return is a wonderful gift. You’ll have to meet my parents. Their love is a light that fills their home. It touches everyone who enters. My sisters and I had a wonderful childhood, the warmth of it has stayed with me ever since.’ He moved slightly, until his cheek pressed against hers. It was only a second, smaller movement, for him to find her lips.
Ethel began to move away but his words had filled her eyes with tears and her heart with pictures of a perfect love untouched by hatred or anger and she wanted to experience a love like that. His kiss began to heal the fear and confusion and as they walked on she knew that he was right, that love was a gift and having found it she would be a fool to let it slip away. But she still failed to tell him that she was carrying his child.
Many hours passed each day without Wesley Daniels entering her thoughts. Even when the image of him flashed on her mind, it was brief, gone in a fraction of a second. Wesley was a part of her life already fading into a misty memory, one of those vague yesterdays that were no longer real. She knew she was in love with Duggie but still had doubts, wondering whether that love was real, or a pretence that someone needed her. That was a feeling she hadn’t known since her father had sent Wesley away and had driven her from home. Now there was no contact with her family, she needed to be tied to somewhere. ‘I’m like a balloon escaped from a child’s hand,’ she remarked once to Rosie. ‘Given a freedom I didn’t want and wasn’t prepared for.’
The war, the precariousness of life, with new faces appearing only to fade into oblivion days later; with young men telling her about their ‘Dear John’ letters from girls who had sworn to love them for ever, how could she be sure about Duggie? Nothing seemed real any more.
As the three friends waited for the new posting they were regularly told was imminent, the month of July moved slowly on. Wheat, barley and oats ripened and was harvested in the fields, flowers bloomed on fallow land and gave swathes of beauty in unexpected places. Pilots died and were replaced by eager-faced young men whose training was becoming more and more brief.
Duggie met Ethel whenever they were both free and they often stopped at the abandoned cottage to talk and kiss and make plans for when war ended and they were free. The place was sealed with padlocks and wrapped around in barbed wire so they couldn’t get inside. Instead they would sit on Duggie’s greatcoat on the ground, leaning against the stout walls.
She still hugged the secret of the baby to herself, still pretending for much of the time that she was mistaken and it wasn’t true. She and Duggie talked of a future but that future was years away, with a life to build before they could live it. This baby was a future that was as close as a few months.
One evening Ethel sensed he was worried. She coaxed him to talk about his work and he admitted that he had a strong feeling that he wouldn’t come back from his next flight.
‘Don’t tell me you’ve allowed the talk and the superstitions to get to you,’ she said quietly. ‘I thought we agreed that rubbish was for the new boys.’
‘The trouble is, they’re all “new boys”. The number of my flying hours are way above everyone else’s and my time is up.’
They talked about fear and how it can ruin concentration and cause crashes when there’s no other reason. ‘You have to put this out of your head,’ Ethel pleaded.
His kisses were a comfort, and as they grew more and more urgent, she didn’t hold back. She desperately wanted him to believe in their future together, he had to believe that they had years of loving ahead of them, his life depended on his believing. In a matter of moments, she found herself caught up in a passion over which she had no control. It wasn’t the most romantic of places, less comfortable than the canteen with its slowly dying fire.
There was no slow awakening, not gradually rising desire, just the urgent need to give him the certainty of their love. She had to convince him that he had a future and she would share it if that was what he wanted. He had to rise in the air and take part in the protection of the airfield, confident and sure.
They lay down and held each other tightly, beginning to become aware of the cold concrete, the worn path biting into them. Afterwards, Duggie was ashamed of treating her so badly. He was close to tears. ‘I’m sorry, Ethel. I shouldn’t have treated you like that. I didn’t plan for that to happen in a place like this. You deserve better care than I give you. I’m so sorry.’
‘There were two of us involved, in case you didn’t notice,’ she said, kissing his stricken face and finding his lips again, teasing them, softening them into a smile. ‘Now, let’s get up before we’re frozen to the ground – and how would we explain that to the medics?’
‘Please believe that I love you for more than this.’
He tried to tell her how ashamed he was, of his lack of control, his taking advantage of her in such an unromantic place, how every time should be special, but each time she stopped his words with a kiss.
‘It was wonderful. You were wonderful and this is a night we’ll never forget,’ she whispered.
‘I love you, Ethel, and in spite of my behaviour tonight, I respect you. I want to spend my whole life with you.’
Now was the time to tell him, while he could still change his mind about how he felt, but the words wouldn’t come. ‘I love you too,’ she whispered softly.
Rosie and Kate could see by her eyes that something good had happened. In their Nissen hut, which they now shared with eight others, they whispered and wheedled the story from her until a shoe went hurtling across the beds with the addition of several voices warning them to ‘Be quiet or else’.
This caused Rosie to giggle and Ethel was glad of the distraction. Lovemaking and her feelings for Duggie were not subjects for general discussion. She pretended sleep when Kate spoke again, but heard Rosie whisper to Kate, asking her not to tease, that Ethel was a bit unhappy at present. She got out of bed and called them outside where she told Kate about the baby. ‘So much for the nickname ice queen, eh?’ she said. She expected a lecture on her stupidity but Kate was thrilled at the prospect of being ‘almost an auntie’.
‘How can you be “almost an auntie”?’ Ethel laughed.
‘Well, you two are almost my sisters, aren’t you?’
There was no arguing with Kate’s particular kind of logic and they talked excitedly about the fun the baby would bring into their lives.
Over the follow
ing days, Ethel stood with the rest as the planes were counted back. She didn’t register any of the anxiety of previous times when some of the planes were late. Duggie was safe, her love had made sure of that.
‘What will happen to me?’ she asked her friends in one of their moments of quiet. ‘I’ll be thrown out of the Naafi, that’s certain, and I’ve nowhere to go. If my father finds out about this he’ll kill me.’
‘You don’t want to lose it, do you?’
‘I sort of hope it isn’t true. If I’m truthful I don’t want it to be true. I’m not ready to look after a child. When I have a baby I want to do it properly. This isn’t the time, Kate.’
‘Tell Duggie. His family sound the kind to accept you. Welcome you in fact. What parent can turn their back on a grandchild?’
‘My father for one!’
Rosie gave a long sigh. ‘I’d love a baby to enjoy and love and watch grow. Not having a father or mother as I grew up makes me want to give a good childhood to a daughter or son. But I don’t think I’ll ever marry.’
‘Why ever not? Of the three of us, I’d have bet good money on me being the one remaining alone, and look what happened to me. That’s what’s so wonderful about life. We none of us know what the new day will bring.’
That night there was a bombing raid on the airfield and as they stood in the trench Kate whispered, ‘This should shift it, if that’s what you want, poor little thing. You might not have to tell Duggie after all.’
All the planes took off immediately the warning was given, not wasting to remain on the ground as convenient targets. The bombers came over, heavy and sluggish compared with the fast, fierce fighter planes, but their aim was good and bombs destroyed three of the stores and one of the hangars. With hats as their only protection, they couldn’t resist looking up and watching the dog-fights going on above them.
They saw a bomber coming down, clearly out of control, and they ducked into the trench as an explosion rocked the ground, the sound of it going on for ever, the shrapnel clattering on corrugated roofs near them, alarmingly large pieces of planes crashing around them.
There was a brief and eerie silence before the sound of men and machines indicated the all clear and time to start clearing up. As soon as the raid ended, Ethel led the others to where the ambulances were already gathering up the wounded. They had helped before but this time they guessed the loss of personnel was high. Bodies littered the ruined buildings and were scattered on the ground, some unrecognizable as human beings.
They were unable to deal with it at first, walking slowly towards one of the victims, hoping someone would come and relieve them of the heart-breaking duty. It was little Rosie who reminded them that the tragic victims were people they had known and had probably served only hours before. She was comforted in some way by remembering how Baba had talked her through the aftermath of that first terrible raid.
‘Someone’s son, nephew, cousin, father, brother – or sister,’ she added as she stared sadly at the body of one of the Waafs. Many of the men and women had refused to leave their work and had stayed in the hangars.
Kate found it hardest to assist. She was tearful, trembling uncontrollably, and unable to approach the still forms of the dead or comfort the people lying horribly wounded. Rosie encouraged her but, realizing it was useless, she and Ethel sent her back to the canteen, reminding her that there was a need for hot drinks with plenty of sugar. ‘Forget about rationing for once. This is an emergency.’
While Kate and some of the others went back to check that the canteen was not damaged and begin the routine tasks of providing food and hot drinks, Ethel and Rosie went to help with first aid for the wounded. They were off duty but that was irrelevant at a time like this.
Outside, once the wounded and the dead had been taken away, work went on with the important task of making the runways serviceable again. The worst damage was around the buildings, which meant more injuries, but the runways had received hits and clearing the ruined buildings, salvaging what they could and filling in craters, went on at a pace, so the Spitfires could return to their base.
Their training was not thorough, but using their basic common sense and doing exactly what the doctors, nurses and orderlies told them to do, they gave valuable help in giving first aid to the wounded during the first few hours. The saddest part was laying out bodies for identification. Rosie, shy little Rosie, coped amazingly well. She spoke calmly to the wounded, dealt respectfully with the dead and, later, Ethel and several others told of the young girl’s dedication.
They returned to the canteen after three hours, exhausted but satisfied they had done all they could. The canteen building had mercifully escaped serious damage, having lost several windows, and a door, blown open by the blast, that was no longer able to be closed. But their hut was no longer habitable. They were back to sleeping in one of several hastily erected tents. Ethel gathered up the books and the cash and made sure it was handed over for safe keeping. That evening they volunteered for duty as the other shift had been working for even longer than themselves. For Ethel it was better to work than to wait for the flight to return. She heard them landing but they were too busy to go out and count them down.
When one of Duggie’s flight came in for sustenance, Ethel smiled and asked where Duggie was. ‘I’d have thought they’d finished debriefing by now, doesn’t he want a cup of tea?’ she asked. Then her throat tightened as she saw the sorrow in the man’s eyes. ‘He’s all right, isn’t he? I didn’t see him among the wounded and – tell me!’ she shouted.
‘Two Spitfires were lost and Duggie’s was one of them. He crashed in the field the other side of town. Making for the woods where he was unlikely to cause any further deaths,’ the stricken man said. His voice was trembly and he gestured to Rosie and Kate to go to her, then turned away. Ethel wouldn’t want to know about the fire and he didn’t have the strength to talk any more. He’d had enough tragedy for one day.
A few hours later, as Ethel lay unable, unwilling to sleep, the pains began and she suffered a painful and heartbreaking miscarriage.
* * *
‘It was one thing considering the inconvenience of having a baby, being all cool and calm and discussing it as though it was happening to someone else, but losing it was something very different. It’s devastating. Among all the deaths, all the insanity of this stupid war, it was a new life and new hope. I want it back,’ she sobbed as Rosie held her. ‘I want to hold Duggie’s child in my arms.’
Kate was tearfully sympathetic. Having been told so recently, the news had been exciting. She hadn’t had time to consider the down side of Ethel’s situation. Trying to prevent anyone from guessing that Ethel was unwell, she did more than her share of the work and allowed Ethel to rest for most of the shift the following day and the next.
After nights with practically no sleep following the exhaustion of the raid and its aftermath, the three of them were looking forward to sleeping once the lunchtime session was ended. They went into the repaired Nissen hut and collapsed on their beds with a sigh of relief, but two minutes later they heard, ‘Come on, ladies, the lorry’s coming in fifteen minutes and this time you really are leaving us,’ the sergeant shouted. ‘Off to Kent you are, you lucky people. Or was it Scotland? Or East Anglia? No, I’ve got it, it’s Berlin. You’re to get the food and char ready for when our boys arrive, OK?’
‘How many sugars in your tea?’ Kate asked. ‘Just in case you aren’t skiving as usual and actually get there!’
‘I can’t go,’ Ethel whispered. ‘I’ll have to report sick.’
‘Oh no you don’t. We aren’t going to be split up because you’ve got a bit of a problem. We’ll help. Rosie’ll carry your case and you can lean on me, right? Is my lipstick on straight? My hair not too straggly? My eye-shadow even? Off we go then to find some other poor unsuspecting lads to drive crazy with desire.’
Chapter Six
Ethel was exhausted by the long journey to their new camp. They sat sideways in
the back of a lorry with several other girls and a few RAF boys. The boys at first tried to engage them in conversation, but the movement of the vehicle, which was making them all feel queasy, and their uncomfortable position, made it impossible to respond.
They learned from other conversations that they were heading for a bomber station from where Lancasters flew. A recent raid had demolished the cookhouse and until it was rebuilt they were going to provide three meals a day to all the personnel plus the usual canteen and net bar services.
Kate and Rosie looked around them as they alighted from the lorry that had brought them to an airfield much larger than the one they had left.
‘Here you are, ladies, three good meals a day the lads will expect, and the canteen open as usual. You’ll have to get cracking.’
‘All on our own?’ Kate asked with a sweet sarcastic smile as she pulled her and Ethel’s cases down.
‘There are other Naafi girls here and they’ll tell you whafs needed,’ their driver told them cheerfully. ‘You wait till you see the pile of ’taters waiting for you, that’ll take the smile off your face, gorgeous.’
The RAF driver pointed them in the direction of the guard room where they had to report, and drove off with a backward glance through his mirror. Nice one, that Kate, always ready with a smile and a cheeky response to any hopeful approach. He wondered how the shy one would cope, and the one called Ethel looked worn out. ‘I wonder what she’s been up to to make her look like scrag end of mutton?’ he asked his oppo with a wink. ‘Up to no good, I bet yah!’
An Army of Smiles Page 12