She was relieved when the decision she was unable to make was taken out of her hands. As she reached the corner of the road, with only yards separating her from the mother she was about to face properly for the first time, she almost squealed with relief as the wail of the air raid warning filled her ears.
All around her people began to change direction. It was a strange town, but she only had to follow the crowd to find the shelter and step inside, thanking the fates for the excuse to miss the appointment and go back to camp on the next bus.
The raid was short-lived, the opinion of the people around her suggesting the enemy aircraft were crossing their air-space on their way to bomb some other unfortunates. Stepping out with relief into the cold afternoon, she walked again to the corner and looked down the road towards the café her mother had named. She wouldn’t be there after all this time. She swivelled on her toes and set out with the intention of returning to the bus stop. As she did she bumped into a woman dressed in a rather ancient fur coat, wide-brimmed felt hat and carrying a small suitcase.
‘I’m sorry, I—’
‘Hello, Rosie, shall we find ourselves a cup of tea?’
* * *
Kate’s heart was racing with anxiety. A shyness overcame her and she slowed her feet as she reached the corner where she and Vincent were to meet. What if they looked at each other and the spark had gone? What if the love they both believed in was no longer there? She stopped and looked in her handbag mirror, believing she looked a mess, and wondered how she could expect anyone to love her. Then she looked up and saw him, he called and waved, they ran into each other’s arms and she knew everything would be all right.
After hours of drinking tea and coffee and declaring their love over and over again, they decided to visit her parents. Although their friendship had been short, they were both convinced it would never end. From the first time they had danced together, they had both known. A moment of friendly attraction had quickly deepened into a tender and passionate love.
‘I can’t wait to introduce you to my family,’ Vincent said as they stood on the overcrowded station platform waiting for their train. ‘I just know they’ll adore you like I do.’
Kate’s parents had been warned to expect them and when they stepped into the side entrance of the shop premises, she saw with amusement that they had filled the place with decorations.
‘Mum, what’s this? It isn’t Christmas!’
‘No, but Easter wasn’t long ago and the house is so drab, with so many of our nice things lost when that bomb came down, Daddy and I thought we’d start a new tradition and decorate for Easter. It’s a bit late, that’s all. After all, you did miss Christmas, dear.’
Kate laughed, hugging Vincent’s arm.
The short holiday was a great success, with Vincent marvelling at the meals provided, and the cheerful spirits of everyone he met.
‘I don’t know how you’ve all managed with the shortages for so long,’ he said as Kate cut a sad sponge cake sparsely decorated with a few Easter chicks stuck on with melted chocolate.
‘It’s easy because we’re all in the same boat,’ Mr Banner told him, not quite truthfully. ‘No one has more than anyone else, we’re having to put up with the same difficulties and it’s brought us closer.’
‘We share what we do have, and of course swop things, barter like in the olden days. I don’t use much sugar so I swop sometimes for some extra tea, or take some soap in exchange for something else.’ Mrs Banner added to the lie.
‘Soap is rationed too?’ Vincent frowned.
‘Difficult keeping the shop clean, I’ll tell you.’
From his suitcase, Vincent produced a bottle of wine and some chocolates. ‘If I’d taken the trouble to find out, I could have brought you something more useful,’ he said sadly. ‘I guess I expected you to have plenty. I thought, as you run a grocery store, you wouldn’t be as troubled by rationing as some, that you’d be able to wangle all you need. I should have known you wouldn’t do that.’
Mr Banner looked away to hide the guilt in his eyes and winked at his daughter, a wink so like hers. ‘That’s not allowed, son,’ he said.
‘These,’ Mrs Banner said, hugging him, ‘are just perfect.’
‘We’ll keep them for next Easter,’ her father joked.
When Kate returned to camp she knew that wherever the war took her, or Vincent, they would find each other again and one day, when peace finally allowed them to return to their own lives, they would marry.
‘He isn’t rich and I know now that insisting on finding a man who was handsome and rich was just the bit of me that was still a child,’ she told Ethel and Rosie. ‘The child in me has gone now, and I know that it’s happiness that’s important. Whatever happens in the future, with Vincent alongside me I know I’ll be happy.’
Ethel smiled but she was worried. To be as happy as Kate clearly was could be a challenge to the fates. Vincent was a bomb-aimer in one of the heavy B17s and someone somewhere would be watching his plane take off with the rest, then scouring the skies, counting the planes as they came back. Her fear was that Kate loved Vincent too, much in these dangerous times, and his death, which was a strong possibility, would devastate her.
* * *
Ethel and Albert were unexpectedly shy when they renewed their friendship. Albert because of the growing love for her he had revealed in his letters, and Ethel because she had thoughts of Baba Morgan in her heart that outweighed her affection for Albert. Lively, happy Baba whom she had neither seen nor heard from for months and who might be dead.
To confuse her emotionally even further, there was still the unresolved situation with Wesley Daniels. As she was now in contact with Mr and Mrs Bailey on the farm, she had news of him. She was surprised to learn that he had been in North Africa at the same time as herself. Knowing how near they had come to meeting didn’t thrill her as it might once have done. She had outgrown Wesley, she thought sadly. And he would almost certainly have changed in the way he felt about her.
Thinking of Wesley as she sat on a bus beside Albert on their way to the pictures during her half day, she felt a sudden sharp longing to go home and see her mother and brother. She leaned towards Albert and put her head on his shoulder, glad of his warmth, needing the closeness to soothe away the sudden sensation of loneliness.
It was April 1944 and still very cold. So she was surprised when Albert suggested going for a walk instead of the cinema.
‘A walk? It’s freezing!’
‘I’ll keep you warm,’ he said, taking her hand and coaxing her to leave the bus before their intended stop.
Some of the once-discarded street signs had been replaced and one directed them to Ring Park. They followed the sign and entered the park from which all the railings and gates had been long removed for scrap metal. Voices reached them through the failing light. Other couples had searched for some privacy to kiss and cuddle and promise undying love. They found an empty seat near a small lake. Albert shared his greatcoat with her and they sat huddled in its warmth.
‘I want you,’ Albert whispered throatily after a few kisses. ‘I want you so much.’
A stab of desire shot through Ethel’s body, starved so long of love, and she moved, just slightly to press herself closer to him. She thought of Baba Morgan and briefly of Wesley, and of Duggie whom she had loved and had hoped to marry. Albert made a clumsy attempt to kiss her and she moved away.
‘Sorry,’ Albert mumbled. ‘I shouldn’t have tried to… I’m sorry. I know you aren’t that sort of girl.’
‘It’s all right, Albert. Let’s forget it happened, shall we?’
‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered again. ‘I’ve insulted you, I know that.’
She tried to reassure him, tell him she wasn’t upset.
‘It’s just… Ethel, will you marry me? As soon as this lot’s over and we can get back to ordinary jobs, we could find a place, just the two of us. I’ll do everything I can to make you happy.’
‘Albert
! Dear Albert, I’m flattered, but I don’t know how I’ll feel when this lot is over and neither do you. Let’s leave it, shall we? Remain as good friends, and see how it goes?’
They were walking in through the camp gates, arms around each other, when Walter passed them. Ethel was talking to one of the men in the guard room, some banter about the cause of Albert’s smile, so she didn’t see him.
‘Had a bit of a fling, have you?’ Walter said to Albert, adding, ‘You don’t mind about not being the first then? I’ve been there before you, mate, and so have a few others.’ Albert stopped, pulled away from Ethel.
‘Ignore him, Albert. He’s off his head,’ Ethel said flippantly. Then someone called to Albert and with hardly a word he hurried off.
‘Albert?’ she called, but when he didn’t respond, she shrugged and went on, presuming he had been called away to something important. If she had seen Walter’s smile, she might have worried, but she did not.
* * *
‘What happened?’ Kate asked after she had told Ethel the exciting outcome of her visit to her parents with Vincent. She found it difficult to listen to her friend talk about her afternoon and evening away from camp, she was so full of memories of Vincent’s delight at meeting her family and friends and his oh so romantic proposal.
Ethel said nothing to her of her own marriage proposal. She was beginning to wonder if, as Albert hadn’t stopped long enough for explanations, he had believed whatever rubbish Walter had told him. But it wasn’t really important apart from the natural anger at being described so unkindly. It was Baba who pulled at her heart-strings in a way Albert never did. If only Baba would get in touch. She needed to know whether or not he was still alive.
Rosie was the last to return that day. She was subdued when she met Ethel and Kate on her return. She had spent her weekend in camp apart from two afternoons when she had met her mother.
At first Rosie had snapped out her questions, determined to dislike this woman who was her mother but had done no mothering. Gradually, the quiet, calm voice soothed her and she found herself listening to stories about herself when she was young. That these stories ended before she began school seemed unimportant. They were lovingly told and the death of her father and her mother’s loneliness and grief became real. In spite of efforts to be angry at the way she had been left by her mother, she began to understand.
‘Nan is a bit possessive,’ she admitted at one point.
‘Not possessive, dear, I’d be unkind to think that. She had lost a son and there’s no replacing a child, specially an only child. She expected me to live the rest of my life as a grieving widow and I couldn’t. I was very young when you were born. I’m not yet forty, remember. For Nan the grief will never end, for me it had to.’
Later, listening to both Kate and Rosie tell their stories, Ethel made up her mind.
‘On my next leave I’m going home.’
‘I’ll come with you,’ Rosie offered at once. ‘You might have to make a run for it if your old man is still as barmy as ever.’
Ethel laughed. ‘And what would you do against a huge man like my father?’
Rosie squealed. ‘Probably run a lot faster than you!’
Ethel hadn’t spoken to Albert since he had proposed. She didn’t realize it at first but now faced the fact that he was deliberately avoiding her. She decided with very little hurt that he had regretted the words and wished they could be unsaid. His was not much of a love if he could be so easily put off by a man like Walter. When they did meet she treated him exactly like the others, with no attempt to show affection and certainly with no sign of being in love.
Chapter Eleven
‘Marry the man,’ Rosie said, when Ethel had told them of Albert’s proposal.
‘I don’t love him, in fact I wonder whether I’m capable of love.’
‘Rot!’ Kate said, hands on hips in an accusing posture. ‘You love your family for a start and don’t deny it, you want to go back and make things right, even with that tyrant of a father of yours.’ Her voice softened and she added, ‘There can’t be any doubt that you loved Duggie.’
‘I’m not sure I know the difference between love and sex. If I hadn’t come to my senses, Albert and I would have “made love”, but was that loving him? Or just a need for a moment of belonging?’
‘Walking away from your family like that, it must have made a difference to how you feel about a lot of things,’ Rosie said. ‘I often wondered how my mother was feeling, knowing I was there, changing, growing up, and never seeing me. It’s different for you. Like my mother, you did the walking and only you can walk back.’
Ethel was silent for a while, then she said firmly, ‘What I feel for Albert isn’t enough to last a lifetime. Of that I am sure.’
‘Good!’ Kate said. ‘Now that’s sorted can we talk about my wedding? I want you to be my bridesmaids and—’ She was silenced by a pillow thrown by Ethel and another, accompanied by a squeal, from Rosie. In spite of groans and teasing, they couldn’t silence Kate on the subject of Vincent for long.
A few days later all three received letters. Kate excitedly read a long letter from Vincent’s mother which included photographs of all his family.
‘They like me! They really like me and welcome me into their family. I’m going to marry Vincent and become an American!’
It was on the same day that Ethel received news that Baba Morgan was safe. He had been taken prisoner and was now on his way home. In a second she knew why she couldn’t commit herself to Albert. She had been waiting for news of Baba. She still wasn’t sure about love, but the excitement the news had created in her convinced her that it was Baba who held the key to her heart.
Rosie’s letter was from her newly discovered mother, inviting her to stay with her on Rosie’s next leave.
‘Will you go?’ a jubilant Ethel asked her.
‘If we finally persuaded you into going home to talk to your family,’ Rosie said, ‘I’d decided to go with you. But now, with Baba on his way, I doubt if anything we say will convince you that your family are priority.’
‘Baba won’t be back for days, even weeks. I think you’re right. I have to go home and find out what my father knows that makes him fear for me. I have to find out before I meet Baba. You see,’ she hesitated nervously before going on, ‘you see I think I must have inherited some dread disease and he’s afraid I’ll pass it on to my children.’
Rosie and Kate stared at her.
‘Is that what you’ve been worrying about all this time?’ Kate asked. ‘You were having nightmares about something as awful as that and you didn’t tell us?’
‘Oh, Ethel. I thought we were your trusted friends. I’d have dragged you to the MO myself, you idiot,’ Rosie said, tears filling her large blue eyes.
‘At least it’s answered one question,’ Kate said thoughtfully. ‘You didn’t want to face the truth for Albert’s sake, did you? Only when Baba got in touch. You want the truth now, in case you marry Baba. Love, I’d say, wouldn’t you, Rosie?’
Hiding her still painful disappointment over the destroyed dream of Baba returning and wanting her, Rosie nodded with her usual silent enthusiasm.
Over the following days Kate and Rosie made their plans to go with Ethel to visit her parents. They both agreed they should stay with her while she got to the truth behind her father’s obsessive behaviour. There wasn’t time to dwell too long on possible explanations or what Ethel should say as they were kept very busy. Temporary buildings increased in number and these were filled with stores and other undisclosed items which were strictly guarded by armed soldiers who had permission to shoot.
More men began to arrive and were accommodated in dozens of bell tents and fed by the cookhouse and the canteen. Serving so many extra mouths became a nightmare, and judging the amount of food a constant worry. The girls secretly gave thanks they were in an army camp, as generally the soldiers were inclined to be more helpful than the airmen, helping to clear tables, stack dishes and ca
rry them to the kitchen to be washed by the hard worked kitchen ‘slaves’. China and cutlery were washed and dried as fast as possible and returned to the counter for reuse.
Although there were more people, the entertainment fell flat. Apart from a few who tried to force others to enjoy themselves, most were withdrawn, and the atmosphere was tense. A man called Gerald continued playing the piano whenever he was free of duties but few leaned on the instrument beside him and sang the regular favourites.
After the canteen closed, the routine work went on as usual, endless cleaning, filling in the books, balancing the money. And always baking cakes and pastries, making sandwiches. The ubiquitous chip appeared in unbelievable quantities, involving soldiers – usually those on ‘jankers’ – to do the boring task of peeling and cutting them. Like the girls, they sang as they worked too, but the words were parodies of favourite songs and unsuitable for the Naafi girls’ tender ears.
Sometimes they were so tired they didn’t wash properly, just gave themselves what Rosie called a cat’s lick and a promise, before flopping into bed exhausted. No matter how late and however tired she was, Kate still always rolled up her hair in dinkie curlers so she would ‘look my best for our boys’ the following day.
Besides the British divisions, soldiers of many nations filed into the camp. The American soldiers both white and black, smiling, always polite and respectful of the girls, ‘Treating us like their kid sisters’, as one of the canteen staff said.
Kate sighed as she searched the sea of faces and wished she could see Vincent. But fully aware of where the men were heading, she thought perhaps not. She hoped he was in fact far away from the south of England and Wales at that time, somewhere safe, stood down from flying.
An Army of Smiles Page 23