by Lily Baxter
‘I will,’ she murmured when she regained her breath. ‘I will marry you, Tony. I’ll wait forever if I have to.’
The joy in his eyes and the tenderness of his smile was all the answer she needed. He held her as if he would never let her go. ‘I’ll come home to you, Susie,’ he whispered into her hair. ‘The next time I get leave we’ll tie the knot. I love you with all my heart.’ A particularly loud explosion was too close for comfort, and he thrust the shelter door open. They were met with a wave of sound and a thick fog of cigarette smoke.
Danny edged towards them through the crowd of seemingly happy locals. ‘You took your time. I was beginning to think you’d bought it.’
‘She said yes, old boy,’ Tony said with a tremor in his voice. ‘Susan and I are engaged.’
She tugged at his arm. ‘Don’t tell everyone yet.’
‘Too late.’ He looked round, grinning. ‘I think they all heard.’
‘Congratulations,’ Danny said with a genuine smile. ‘You’re a lucky dog, Richards.’
‘Don’t I know it?’ Tony slapped him on the back. ‘Drinks are on me, folks.’
Suddenly they were surrounded by people wanting to congratulate them. Susan had not realised that she was so popular. Everyone seemed genuinely pleased for them. Roz hugged her and Bob was kept busy refilling pint mugs from the keg he kept in readiness for just such an occasion. When he had satisfied their demands he pushed through the throng to give Susan a glass of cider. ‘It should be champagne, but I can’t get to the cellar thanks to Jerry.’ He kissed her on the cheek. ‘I’m happy for you, love. If this fellow is what you want, then I wish you all the luck in the world.’
Susan smiled at Tony and he squeezed her hand. ‘He is,’ she said simply. ‘I love him.’
Bob leaned closer to Tony. ‘No funny business tonight, mate. I’ve got an unmarried daughter who’s up the duff and I don’t want a repeat with young Susan.’
‘Bob!’ Susan glanced round anxiously, hoping that no one was listening. ‘How can you say such a thing?’
He grinned. ‘Very easily. He knows what I mean, don’t you, boy?’
‘Yes, sir. I do. I love Susan. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt her.’
‘He can bunk with me tonight,’ Danny said, grinning from ear to ear. ‘I’ll make sure there’s no hanky-panky, boss.’
Susan bit back an angry retort. Much as she loved all three of them, they had no right to talk about her as if she was little more than a child and unable to speak for herself. She felt her cheeks burning and she went to sit next to Roz on the uncomfortable wooden bench.
‘Don’t take any notice of them,’ Roz said sympathetically. ‘They care about you, Susan, even if they’ve a funny way of showing it.’
She nodded, too choked with emotion to speak.
‘What’s up?’ Roz peered at her in the dim light. ‘You should be dancing for joy. It’s not every day a girl gets engaged.’
‘Tony passed his medical. He’s been accepted back in the RAF and he’s going to join Bomber Command tomorrow. It’s just not fair.’
Roz gave her a hug. ‘None of it’s fair. War is horrible, but we’ve got to get through it the best way we can.’
Susan glanced down at Roz’s left hand. ‘You’re wearing Patrick’s ring.’
‘Of course. Now that everyone knows about us there’s no point in keeping it secret.’
‘I’m glad. You deserve to be happy.’ She gazed at Tony, who was being congratulated by the occupants of the shelter, and she felt a surge of love for him that made her dizzy, but her joy was tinged with fear. She could not help wishing that he was still ferrying planes from factories to aerodromes. That was hazardous enough, but not nearly as dangerous as bombing missions over Germany. She wished that she could spend these few precious hours alone with him, but it seemed they were fated to be in the midst of a crowd of well-wishers all evening. The celebrations continued even after the all clear had sounded and everyone trooped back into the pub. A party atmosphere prevailed and although Roz helped out for a while she was soon too tired to carry on and Susan had to go behind the bar.
After closing time, Bob and Danny sat in the snug like old-fashioned duennas while Susan and Tony said their goodbyes. It was hardly the most romantic way to end the evening, particularly when Danny complained that he would be locked out of his digs if he did not get back soon. He stood by the door staring pointedly at the clock above the bar, while Bob busied himself collecting dirty glasses and ashtrays.
‘I’ll have to go, sweetheart.’ With a wry smile, Tony took Susan into his arms and kissed her long and hard. ‘I’ll write when I can. Take care of yourself.’
Panic rose within her. ‘But I’ll see you again before you go.’
‘I’ve got to get an early train to London. I must see the old man and tell him what’s happening. I haven’t been home for over a year so I owe him that at least, and I want to break it gently about us. It’s not something I can do in a letter, not after all he’s been through. You do understand, don’t you, Sue?’
She nodded, but she could not frame the words. All she could think of was that he was leaving. Just as they had sorted everything out between them, he was going away and venturing once more into the danger zone. She might never see him again. The realities of war that had so far just been words really hit home now. She felt physically sick and close to tears, but she showed him a brave face. ‘Of course I do.’
‘You’re a wonderful girl, Susan. I can’t wait to make you my wife.’
Danny coughed and shuffled his feet. ‘I don’t want to hurry you, old man. But we’ll find ourselves sleeping in a telephone box if we don’t get a move on.’
Kissing Susan one last time, Tony backed towards the door.
She stood very still, imprinting the moment in her memory. She would have to live off this for as long as it took for them to be reunited. She would not break down and cry. She would send him off with a smile. That was how she wanted him to remember her.
She was still standing there, statue-like and frozen in time, when Bob came up behind her and pressed a glass into her hand. ‘Brandy,’ he said, breathing whisky fumes in her face. ‘Forget the under age drinking ban. If you’re woman enough to send your man off to war, you can take a tot of something to ease the heartache.’ He raised his glass. ‘Here’s to Tony and all those brave men and women who risk their lives for us. I wish to God that I was young enough and fit enough to join up. I reckon the hardest part of all is having to stay at home and bloody wait.’ He downed the whisky in a single gulp.
*
Sometimes it all seemed like a dream and when Susan woke up in the morning she wondered if Tony had really come home a week before Christmas, or if it was a figment of her imagination. Had he really held her in his arms and kissed her with such burning desire that it set all her senses aflame, or was it merely wishful thinking? Was she really engaged to be married, or was that something she had conjured up in her mind to help her get through the difficult days of air raids, food shortages, rationing and dismal winter weather?
Christmas was a busy time in the pub which left Susan little time to brood. She had been cheered considerably by a letter from Dave Richards, which she received on Christmas Eve. In it he apologised for any embarrassment he had caused her by his proposal, and for the delay in putting matters straight. Reading between the lines, Susan thought that Maida was probably at the bottom of that. She had not bothered to disguise her disapproval of Susan’s presence in the flat, and she must have been delighted when she found that she had left and taken her dog with her. Dave wrote that his sister had moved back to the East End and that he was coping quite well on his own. He added that he was pleased to hear that Susan was settled in a good job and even happier to know that she was engaged to his son.
The letter was clumsily phrased and had obviously taken him some time to compose but the sentiments were genuine enough, and Susan was relieved to think that her future father-in-law would wel
come her into the family. She had been bitterly disappointed that Tony left early to go to London to see his father, but now she knew that he had done the right thing.
With the festive season over, Susan went to work each day as before, and she spent all her free time studying. She was now familiar with the workings of the Spitfire engine as well as the theory of flying. She would have given almost anything for more lessons, but with Elspeth fully occupied in the ferry pool and her aeroplane mothballed, there was virtually no chance that she would get off the ground again. Still, some stubborn streak in her makeup kept her focused on continuing her studies. Working hard kept her mind off Tony and his dangerous missions. He telephoned as often as he could and for a few precious minutes they were able to talk. It made him seem closer, but then it was all the harder to say goodbye. She was living in limbo and it was no comfort to know that she was one of millions of women left at home doing vital war work but separated from those they loved. She too dreaded the arrival of the telegram with the news that no one wanted to hear. At night she lay awake with only Charlie for company, and his furry body lying on the foot of her bed to keep her warm during the cold winter weather. On particularly bitter nights he slithered up the bed and when she awoke in the morning she would find him snuggled against her back, snoring gently.
Gradually winter began to loosen its icy grip on the countryside and March, true to the old adage, came in like a lion. The wind whipped up the waters in the river, rattled the bare branches of the trees and made taking off and landing even more tricky than usual. Roz was close to term now and growing ever more weary of her burden. She was short-tempered and tearful. Her father was worried and turned to whisky to calm his nerves. It fell to Susan to try to keep the peace between them. She awaited the baby’s birth almost as eagerly as Roz. Bob was dreading it and he made no secret of his fear that history would repeat itself, which only added to the tension between the two of them. Even Orlando seemed to sense the atmosphere and he hissed and spat, arching his back with his fur standing on end and his green eyes blazing every time Charlie trotted through the kitchen. A kind of madness had descended upon the pub and Susan was glad to get out every morning and go to work. She was now an accepted part of the engineering team. The men had teased her at first and given her all the dirty jobs to do, but she had won them over by her good humour and her willingness to try anything once.
The month was drawing to an end when the news filtered through of the RAF bombing raid on the Baltic port of Lübeck, and the massive offensive against the German arms factories. Spitfires had escorted the bombers and some of them were damaged and brought to the factory for repair. Susan had heard nothing from Tony for almost a fortnight and she was beginning to worry, but she was kept busy both in her daytime job and at the pub. Roz was no longer able to work in the evenings as her feet and ankles were swollen and the doctor had told her to rest, and Bob was drinking more heavily than ever. By closing time each evening he was just about able to call last orders before he staggered off to bed, leaving Susan and Danny to finish serving and close up.
On a blustery Monday morning, Roz woke up complaining of vague pains. The doctor was called but he told her there was no need to worry, the baby was not ready to come into the world for a few days yet. Susan went to work as usual but when she returned in the early evening Roz was still getting contractions although they were intermittent. Then, almost as if the laws of nature wanted to prove the doctor wrong, Roz went into labour just before closing time. Danny had been about to go back to his digs, and Bob had gone to the kitchen to make a cup of tea over an hour before but had not returned. Susan found him slumped over the kitchen table, dead to the world. She could hear Roz’s cries of anguish from the bedroom and she shook him violently, but he merely grunted and told her to go away. She ran upstairs to find Roz white-faced and terrified by the strength of the pains that racked her body.
‘Do something, Susan,’ she pleaded. ‘It bloody hurts.’
Forcing herself to appear calm, Susan tried to remember the midwife’s instructions. ‘Don’t worry; it’s going to be fine. Just think of the lovely baby you’re going to hold in your arms. After all these months you’ll have Patrick’s child. I’ll go now and ring for the doctor.’ She raced downstairs to telephone the doctor’s house. She waited, tapping her foot on the floor while the ringing tone went on and on for what seemed like an age. For a moment she felt panic rising in her throat. What would she do if no one was at home? She was just wondering whether she ought to phone for an ambulance when the doctor’s wife answered, sounding slightly grumpy and rather sleepy. Susan explained the reason for the call.
‘I’m sorry, but my husband is out on an emergency. I’ll pass the message on when he comes home.’
‘Wait,’ Susan cried, sensing that the tired woman was about to replace the receiver. ‘Please tell him it’s urgent. She’s in agony and I don’t know what to do.’
‘Keep her calm. First babies usually take a long time to come. The doctor will get there as soon as possible. In the meantime I’ll see if I can get hold of the midwife. Don’t worry, Susan. Babies are being born all the time. Rosemary will be fine.’
The line went dead, leaving Susan staring at the rather hideous wallpaper. She dropped the receiver back on its cradle and went into the bar. Danny was standing in the middle of the floor, looking anxious. ‘Is she all right?’
‘The doctor is out on a call,’ Susan said dully. ‘Mrs Snow is going to try and get hold of the midwife.’
He gave her a searching look. ‘Are you okay? You’re white as a sheet.’
‘Have you ever seen a woman in labour?’
‘No, can’t say I have.’
‘Well, she is. Well and truly now, and Bob’s out for the count. He’s drunk himself into a stupor because he’s so terrified that Roz is going to die in childbirth like her mother. I know it’s silly but he’s got it stuck in his head and he won’t listen to sense.’
Danny nodded slowly. ‘So that’s what started it. I know he had a drink problem some time ago, but everyone thought he’d got over it. If the brewery find out he’ll be out on his ear.’
‘I can’t think about that now. I’d better get back to Roz.’ She hesitated. ‘Will you stay for a while? I need someone here to let the doctor in, or the midwife, whoever gets here first.’
‘Of course I will, honey,’ he said, grinning. ‘Shall I start boiling kettles of water like they do in the films?’
His attempt at humour was not lost on Susan and it brought a reluctant smile to her lips. ‘Maybe you ought to make Bob a cup of coffee. There’s a bottle of Camp in the larder. Make it strong and black.’ She turned with a start as a loud scream from Roz’s bedroom echoed through the building. ‘I’d best go and see what I can do.’ She hurried from the bar and ran up the stairs, taking two at a time. Charlie bounded after her, but issuing a sharp command to stay she shut him outside on the landing.
Roz glared at her. ‘Where the hell have you been? Doesn’t anyone care what happens to me?’
Susan smoothed the sheets and plumped the pillows behind her head. ‘I’ve been trying to get hold of Dr Snow or the midwife. Just hold on until they get here, Roz. I’m no Florence Nightingale. I wouldn’t know how to deliver a baby. Now if you were a Spitfire engine …’
A gurgle of laughter was replaced by a groan. ‘Oh God. I’m never having another kid as long as I live. Where’s that bloody doctor?’
Susan settled down to do what she could for Roz. She did her best to appear calm, but inwardly she was terrified. She really had no idea what to do if the baby decided to arrive before the doctor or the midwife put in an appearance. She hoped against hope that someone would come soon and take over. Roz was alternately screaming and writhing in agony or falling into a fitful doze. There seemed to be quite a few minutes between contractions, but Susan was now wishing that she had read some books on midwifery instead of poring over manuals on aeroplane engines.
She glanced at the cl
ock on the bedside cabinet. It was almost midnight. She was growing sleepy and found herself nodding off occasionally, but she came to her senses with a start at the distant sound of the telephone. Roz seemed to be asleep and Susan rose to her feet, tiptoeing quietly from the room. She heard Danny’s deep tones as he answered the phone. She met him at the foot of the stairs. His expression was carefully controlled but she knew instantly that something was wrong.
‘What is it, Danny? Can’t the doctor get here?’
‘It’s Tony’s dad on the phone. You’d better speak to him, Susan.’
It could only be bad news. Nobody rang up at this time of night unless it was a dire emergency. She swayed dizzily and had to lean on him for support as her knees threatened to give way beneath her. ‘It’s Tony, isn’t it?’
‘He’s missing in action. He’s not dead, Susan. Speak to Dave; he’ll tell you everything he knows.’
Somehow she managed to walk the short distance to the telephone. She picked up the receiver. ‘Dave, it’s Susan.’ She listened only half hearing what he was saying. His voice droned on and on, but all she could hear were the words repeating again and again in her head. ‘Missing in action.’
‘Are you there, Susan?’
She pulled herself together with an effort. ‘Yes, I’m listening.’
‘I know it’s a terrible shock, love. It was for me too, but after I had the official telegram I had a phone call from one of the Spitfire pilots who escorted the Wellingtons. He said that they had reached the German coast and when Tony’s plane took a hit he saw parachutes. Obviously he didn’t know who had managed to escape from the burning fuselage, but one of them could have been Tony. We can only hope and pray.’
‘Yes,’ she said dully.
‘Are you all right, love?’
‘Yes,’ she said, ‘thank you.’
‘We’ve got to be positive, Susan. We’ve got to keep hoping. It’s all that’s left to us. I know you love my boy as much as I do.’