‘He is.’
George shook his head. ‘I’m sorry to cast gloom on what is a celebration tonight, but I’m very much afraid the problems in Germany could escalate into war.’
There were startled gasps around the table, but no one could think of an answer to refute his fears.
Suddenly, Emily jumped to her feet. ‘Let’s not think about it just now. And talking of extravagances, I bought a bottle of champagne for tonight. It’s high time we opened it. Trip, will you do the honours?’
The evening ended merrily, but none of them forgot George’s dire warning.
There were no such worries in Ashford-in-the-Water. Life went on happily. Josh thrived as the manager of Riversdale and with his mother as one of the cooks and Amy helping out front-of-house whenever she could, it was a real family affair. Even those employed there, who were not actually related to the Ryans, felt as if they were part of the family. And when Harry, at twelve, began pestering to help out in any way he could to earn pocket money, his father found him a part-time job after school and at weekends helping Kirkland in the garden at Riversdale Hotel.
‘But you’re to finish your schooling. Education’s important to a lad – to anyone, if it come to that,’ he added, thinking of his enterprising sister.
Harry laughed. ‘You sound like Granny Ryan.’
Josh blinked and stared at the boy for a moment. And then he had the grace to laugh. ‘Aye, maybe she’s right – sometimes.’ Pausing for a moment, he put his hand on his son’s shoulder. ‘Whatever you want to do in life, I’ll support you, Harry.’
‘I want to join the RAF, Dad. I want to be a pilot.’
For a moment, the image of Harry’s attic bedroom was in Josh’s mind. The ceiling was strung with dangling model aeroplanes, lovingly and carefully crafted by Harry’s own hands with a little help from his two grandfathers over the tricky bits. And any spare pocket money he’d earned was spent on aircraft magazines, all neatly stacked under his bed. He should have guessed, Josh thought. Harry’s interest went much deeper than a boyish hobby.
‘Aye, well, that’s a long time off, lad. See how you feel when you’re old enough, eh?’
Harry’s face was solemn as he said quietly, ‘I won’t change my mind, Dad.’
Josh felt a tremor of apprehension. Though he said very little to his family, he followed the news as keenly as his brother-in-law, Trip, and if the newspapers were to be believed, the political situation in Europe was looking decidedly shaky. If there was to be another war, the last place he wanted his son was in the RAF.
Thirty-Eight
Unemployment and hardship were still rife in the city and when cuts in the unemployment assistance were announced in February 1935, there was a noisy and disorderly protest in the Town Hall Square by thousands of people. Over twenty arrests were made and several people, including members of the police force, were injured.
But the demonstration had an effect and only two days later the cuts were restored.
‘Thank goodness Percy Sillitoe smashed the gangs. I daren’t think what that protest would have turned into if he hadn’t.’
‘A nasty riot and street fighting for weeks,’ Emily said bluntly, then added, ‘I wonder how he’s getting on in Glasgow.’
Four years earlier, his job done in Sheffield, Percy Sillitoe had been appointed Chief Constable of Glasgow, with the same brief that he had been given in Sheffield; to break up Glasgow’s razor gangs.
‘It might be a bit tougher there, but I hope he succeeds.’
‘The next thing we need,’ Trip said decidedly, when he heard that a new telephone exchange had been opened in the city in March, ‘is the telephone. We need one at the factory and we should certainly have one here at home. What about you, Emily? You really ought to have one at each of your workshops. It might save you a lot of time running between them if you could just speak to your employees on the telephone, and you should definitely have one at the shop.’
‘You’re right, Trip.’ And so telephones were installed in all their premises and the instruments certainly saved everyone a lot of time and effort.
‘What are we going to do to celebrate the King’s Silver Jubilee in May?’ Emily asked. ‘We ought to have a street party at the very least.’
‘Mm.’ Trip seemed preoccupied.
‘Trip?’
He jabbed at the newspaper he was reading. ‘It’s starting, Emily. Hitler’s making demands that Germany should have an air force on a par with ours, and a navy too. And he wants to build an army five times that which was permitted under the Treaty of Versailles at the end of the war. He’s just ignoring that treaty.’
Emily pulled the paper out of his grasp. ‘In the meantime, Trip, we’ll just get on with our lives and not worry about Herr Hitler.’
‘I’m sorry, but we should worry about him, Emily. He’s a threat to our security. To the security of the whole of Europe, if only they could see it.’
Emily stood in front of him with her hands on her hips. ‘So, what are you going to do about it? Become an MP?’
‘D’you know, if I thought I could win a seat, I would.’ He stood up suddenly, his sombre mood pushed aside. ‘But you’re right, Emily. I shouldn’t be worrying about things over which I have no control – sadly. Now, what were you saying?’
‘What are we going to do to celebrate the King’s Silver Jubilee?’
‘They’ll be bringing out a commemorative medal with a red, white and blue ribbon, I’ve no doubt, but Richard and I have been working on a design for a special penknife.’ He grinned. ‘In fact, they’ll be coming to your girls very soon. Oh, and how many would you like to order for your shop, Mrs Trippet?’
‘What a marvellous idea! We’ll take six dozen to start with.’ Then she frowned. ‘Will you be supplying Coles?’
Trip chuckled. ‘No, Richard and I have agreed that you should have exclusive rights. No one else in the city will have them but you.’
‘Oh Trip!’ was all Emily could say.
The day of the Jubilee, 6 May, had been declared a public holiday and Emily was determined that her workers and their families should enjoy it. She was the prime mover – with Bess’s help – in organizing a street party. On that sunny morning, it seemed as if everyone she had invited – and a few more besides – came to the party.
‘It’s like Armistice night,’ Bess mused, glancing round at the children tucking into the sandwiches and cakes Emily had ordered from a caterer, at young couples dancing to music blaring from wireless sets that had been carried into the street, and at the older folk enjoying the fun and forgetting just for a few brief hours the struggles of their daily lives. ‘Let’s hope we never have to have another one of those.’
Emily smiled, but said nothing. Daily, she lived with Trip’s gloomy predictions of the trouble brewing on the Continent and, whilst she hoped and prayed he was wrong, she had the awful premonition that he was not worrying unnecessarily and when, a few months later, Hitler stepped up his persecution of the German Jews by banning marriage between Jews and non-Jews and proclaiming that any ‘friendships’ would result in arrest, even Emily began to fear where it would all lead.
But by the Bank Holiday in August that year, Trip was more cheerful.
‘D’you know, Emily,’ Trip said, as they motored towards Skegness on the Saturday morning for a long weekend by the sea. Three excited boys took up the back seat; Lewis, Harry and Phil, who had come to stay with Emily and Trip for the first time. ‘I really think things are starting to improve slowly.’
‘Do you? What makes you say that?’
‘The papers say that unemployment has fallen by about a third over the last three years and there is a feeling of optimism. We’ve a few more orders trickling in. Not vast amounts, but enough to mean that I don’t have to lay any more of my own men off or put any of those who rent workshops in our premises in jeopardy. It’s such a relief, Emily, I can’t tell you. How are things with you?’
‘I hardly dare say
it, but all right, thanks. “Nell’s girls”, as we call all the recently trained ones, are doing really well.’
‘So, your workshops are fully staffed now.’
Emily nodded. ‘We’ve even had to encroach on Billy’s territory but he doesn’t seem to mind.’
‘Of course he won’t. What man would mind working alongside pretty girls?’
‘They’re not so pretty covered with black, oily sand.’
‘I shouldn’t think he even notices them with a lovely wife of his own. Any more than I do. Ah, here we are. This is Skegness. Now, where can we park?’
‘I don’t see the sea, Uncle Trip.’
‘It’s here somewhere, Phil. We’ll find it, never fear.’
Trip parked the car in a side street and they walked until they neared the clock tower standing sentinel near the shore. It was a lovely day, warm and sunny, but there was a cool breeze blowing in from the sea. They strolled on the beach, paddled in the sea and then walked the full length of the pier until they felt as if they were standing in the sea with the waves lapping beneath them. The two younger boys had donkey rides; Harry and Trip had an impromptu game of football on the beach, whilst Emily sat on the sand watching them. It was a carefree day that they would all remember for, as the summer turned to autumn, new fears obsessed Trip. Italy’s fascist dictator invaded Abyssinia.
‘Hitler will be watching him,’ he remarked dolefully. ‘And emulating him, if it’s a success.’
Thirty-Nine
1936 was proving to be a turbulent year. With the death of King George V in January, the country looked to its new handsome young king for leadership. The old king had been well liked and on the day of his funeral a huge crowd gathered in Town Hall Square as a mark of respect. Abroad, life was just as unsettled, but in Ashford, Harry had only one thing on his mind. His interest in aircraft and flying had not diminished and by the time he was nearly fifteen, he was determined to make it his career. Though he now worked at the hotel under his father’s direction in any spare time he had, his ambition to join the RAF never wavered. For him, the job was just marking time until he could become a cadet.
‘I’m going to apply, Dad, as soon as I’m old enough,’ he told Josh at the beginning of March. ‘I’ll be fifteen in just over a week’s time.’
‘We want you to stay on at school, Harry, and besides, you’d need my consent.’
Harry gaped at him. ‘Aw Dad, you wouldn’t stand in my way, would you?’
Josh wrestled with his conscience. He remembered how his mother had ruled his life – had almost wrecked it when she had dragged him to the city and away from Amy. He’d vowed he would never do that to his own children. Now, he sighed heavily, ‘No, Harry, I wouldn’t, but think of your mother and how she would worry.’
‘Mam said she’d never stop me doing whatever I wanted with my life.’
Josh nodded slowly. Amy too had suffered because of Martha Ryan’s ambitions. She’d had to bear the shame of being an unmarried mother. Amy would keep her anxiety to herself and support Harry in his chosen career and Josh decided that he must do the same.
‘When you’re a little older, we’ll talk about it, son.’ He was about to turn away, but Harry pushed a magazine under his nose.
‘Dad, have you seen this?’
Josh looked down at the magazine Harry was holding. ‘It’s a picture of the Vickers’ Spitfire. It’s a new plane on show at Eastleigh Aerodrome near Southampton. It’s going on its maiden flight on Thursday. Can we go and see it?’
‘Southampton? That’s right down on the south coast. Have you any idea how far that is, Harry? No, we can’t possibly go. Besides, we can’t spare the time. We’ve a wedding a week on Saturday and I shall want you to work here as much as you can to help Mr Kirkland get the grounds looking nice.’
Harry turned away before his father saw the tears of disappointment in his eyes. He was almost fifteen; far too big a boy to be seen crying.
‘Amy?’ Josh shouted as he opened the back door. ‘Amy?’
Amy was standing at the kitchen table, her hands deep in a bowl of floury mixture as she made pastry.
‘Whatever’s the matter?’ By the tone of his voice, she knew something was wrong. It had been only an hour since Josh had left for work at the hotel.
‘Where’s Harry? The headmaster has just rung through to the hotel to ask why he’s not in school. He wants to know if he’s ill? He’s not, is he?’
‘I’m sure he isn’t, though –’ Amy bit her lip – ‘I have to admit, I haven’t seen him this morning. You know he often gets up early, gets his own breakfast and then goes off to school.’
Josh gave a low groan and headed for the stairs, shouting as he went, ‘Harry! Harry! Get yourself up this minute. You’re late.’
But the boy’s bed was neatly made and his bedroom immaculately tidy.
Josh stomped back down the stairs. ‘He’s not there, so where is he?’
‘Are you sure he hasn’t come to the hotel? He sometimes calls in before he goes to school and your mother often gives him breakfast in the kitchen there, if she’s on duty. And this morning, she is.’
‘Then why isn’t he at school by now?’
Amy shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’
Then Bob spoke up from his chair by the fire. ‘You won’t find him at the hotel or at school.’
Josh and Amy stared at her father. ‘What do you mean?’
The old man was smiling. ‘He’s gone to Southampton.’
‘Whatever for?’ Amy asked.
‘Has he indeed?’ Josh muttered, tight-lipped.
‘He hasn’t got the money for fares to get to Southampton.’
‘I gave it to him,’ Bob said calmly.
‘You shouldn’t have done that,’ Josh said angrily, ‘especially when I’d said he couldn’t go.’
‘And why did you say that, Josh?’
‘Because I’ve too much work on. We’ve a big wedding next weekend and—’
‘Aye, you’ve too much work on to have time for your family.’
As Josh opened his mouth to protest, Bob held up his hand. ‘I don’t deny you’re doing a brilliant job there and we’re all very proud of you, but don’t let it take over your life, Josh. I agree you’ll have to be there next weekend for the wedding, but if you’d got things organized, you could have taken the lad this week. If me legs hadn’t been playing up, I’d have gone with him, but I’d have been more of a hindrance than a help.’
‘But he’s too young to go all that way on his own,’ Amy said anxiously.
‘No, he isn’t, love. I was doing a man’s job by the time I was his age and he’s working now too, whenever he’s not at school. And he’s got a sensible head on his shoulders. He’ll be fine.’
‘He should have told us,’ Josh muttered. ‘He shouldn’t have just – gone off.’
‘If he had, you’d have stopped him going and, besides, he has told you – in a roundabout way. He’s not left you anxious and worrying for two days. He asked me to tell you where he’s gone.’
‘Aye, when he was safely on his way.’ Josh glowered.
Bob grinned. ‘That’s about the size of it.’
‘When he gets back, he’s in big trouble.’
‘Josh, you’re a good son-in-law, a wonderful husband and – most of the time – a brilliant father, but you have to realize your children are growing up. Harry needs to make his own decisions about his life. You, if anyone, should know all about that. And to do that, he has to get out and see the world a bit. He’s gone to look at this new aeroplane Vickers have built. The Spitfire, I think it’s called.’
‘I know all about it. He told me last week and he also said he wants to be a pilot in the RAF.’
‘What?’ Amy’s voice was a high-pitched, terrified squeak. ‘Oh no, he’s not going to do that. I won’t let him.’
‘I don’t think you’ll have much say in the matter, love,’ her wise father said gently.
Forty
B
y the time Harry returned, both Josh and Amy had agreed not to be angry with him. Amy hugged him hard and asked him if he was all right and Josh ruffled his hair and said, ‘Just don’t go off again without telling us before you go?’
‘You’d have stopped me.’
‘Aye, well, maybe this time I would have, but I promise I won’t another time as long as you tell us where you’re going. All right?’
Harry nodded. He was surprised. He had expected tears and recriminations from his mother and anger from his father. Perhaps the broad wink from his grandfather Bob explained it all.
‘So,’ Josh went on, ‘tell us all about it, then.’
And as the family sat down to supper around the kitchen table, Harry regaled them with his adventures, his younger brother and sister listening with growing admiration and envy.
‘I saw the Vickers new long-range bomber, but I didn’t like that much. But the Spitfire – it was like a bird . . .’ He demonstrated as if his hands were a bird wheeling and diving through the sky. ‘It’s the fastest single-seater fighter aircraft in the world and flies at between three and four hundred miles per hour.’
‘Can me and Sarah go too next time, Dad?’ Phil asked, pleadingly.
‘I don’t know if there’ll be a “next time” for Southampton, but I tell you what we will do. Now and again, we’ll go out on some trips as a family.’ His father-in-law’s words had struck a nerve; Josh had been so wrapped up in his duties at the hotel that he wasn’t paying enough attention to his wife and children.
‘Maybe you could employ an under-manager,’ Amy said softly.
Josh pulled a face. ‘Mrs Bayes says we’re holding our own, but only just. I wouldn’t want to put any more strain on the modest profit we have got, but maybe, if I work things out, I could get a little more time off.’
‘I’m sure you work far more hours than you’re paid for.’
Josh smiled wryly. ‘I can’t deny that.’
When Constance heard that Josh was taking a Sunday off now and again to take his family on a bus trip or a train journey, she said, ‘Why don’t you use the Rolls, Josh?’
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