Keep the Home Fires Burning

by S Block

  ‘Chased from its butcher’s trying to buy bacon for my aunt. Not for the first time told to go back where I came from.’ He smiled. ‘I’d just come from Liverpool so why would I want to go back until it was safe?’

  ‘I think they must’ve meant—’

  ‘Yes, Claire. We know what they meant,’ said Sarah.

  Frances now recognised John as the man who had hurried past her to escape the barracking he was being given by Mrs Talbot and her cronies.

  ‘That was you . . .’ she said, almost inaudibly.

  ‘My family’s been English nearly two hundred years. Came as sailors or slaves, one or the other. We don’t know which. Anyway, I asked young Noah how he’d found my spot. He told me his father once read him a story about a man who escaped from prison and walked along a stream to stop dogs picking up his scent and dragging him back. So I asked if he’d walked along the stream after running away and he nodded. He told me his father had taught him how to navigate using the sun. So he tore out a map of England from a geography textbook, and headed south. I think he must have got lost, and decided to follow the stream. That’s where I found him. He was shivering quite severely. His clothes were wet.’

  ‘The poor boy . . .’ said Sarah quietly.

  ‘I served with the King’s Regiment in 1914. I’ve seen strong men die of exposure. I had to raise the boy’s temperature before we could do anything else. So I wrapped Noah in my coat to get warm and rest, then made a fire to dry his clothes.’ He paused and looked from one face to another. The women were hanging on his every word.

  ‘Watching him sleep I realised saving this child was the reason I’d been twice spared.’

  John told them that as soon as Noah was warm and his clothes dry they set off to find Great Paxford. John had only chanced upon the village before. Now, with road signs taken down to make it more difficult for German invaders, it wasn’t easy to find. Noah had managed to walk for an hour but soon flagged, so John had carried him. When John thought they might be in the right area for the village he had ventured onto a farm to ask for directions. That had been the Farrow farm, and Steph had recognised Noah immediately, and driven John and Noah straight over on the tractor.

  When John finished his account, none of the women could speak for several moments. Alison was the first to break the silence.

  ‘You saved his life, Mr Smith.’

  John looked up, surprised at the accolade and touched by her kindness. ‘Not sure about that. He doesn’t look it, but he’s a tough little fella. Must be, to’ve got all that way by himself.’

  ‘Take credit where credit is due,’ Alison said, meeting his gaze straight on.

  ‘How on earth did Noah get so far without being spotted?’ asked Sarah.

  ‘He made sure he wasn’t,’ said Claire. ‘He’s ever so clever.’

  ‘Words cannot express how grateful I am to you,’ said Frances. ‘Will you stay for some breakfast? You must be starving.’

  John patted his knapsack.

  ‘I still have an apple left.’

  ‘An apple by itself is no way to start the day,’ said Alison.

  Frances turned to Claire.

  ‘Take Mr Smith to the kitchen and give him the run of our larder. Whatever you want, Mr Smith. It’s yours.’

  ‘That’s very kind,’ he said.

  ‘It’s nothing of the sort.’

  Claire stood up.

  ‘Come along, Mr Smith. Mrs Barden doesn’t take “no” for an answer.’

  John smiled, got to his feet and looked at the women in front of him.

  ‘Thank you for your kindness.’

  He looked from Sarah to Frances to Alison. He glanced down at Boris, dozing by her feet.

  ‘How old is he?’

  ‘Coming up for fourteen.’

  ‘He’d still give his life for you, no doubt.’

  Alison smiled at John. ‘Yes. But I’m hoping he won’t have to.’

  John laughed, taking his gaze from Alison, crouched over Boris, and slowly stroked his back. Boris didn’t open his eyes, but stretched out all four limbs in response to John’s touch.

  ‘Consider yourself part of his inner circle. His Lordship would have most people’s hand off for that,’ Alison said, admiring John’s gentleness.

  John stood up, smiled at Alison, and followed Claire out of the room.

  Frances also stood.

  ‘I’d better inform the police of what’s happened,’ she said. ‘And then the school.’

  ‘I’m afraid I simply put the receiver down as soon as I heard Claire shouting Noah’s name. At least Nelms had been right about Noah either going back or trying to find his way home,’ said Sarah.

  ‘Yes. Unfortunately, completely clueless about the cause of his departure.’

  Sarah was thinking along similar lines.

  ‘Will you ask why he was so completely in the dark about the bullying?’

  Frances looked at her sister for several moments, considering her question.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ she said. ‘I think I’ll just tell him that Noah won’t be going back, and leave it at that.’

  Chapter 44

  As Nick had warned Teresa, his new commanding officer, Group Captain Michael Buey, was a crushing bore. Thirty years older than Nick, short, corpulent and bald, Group Captain Buey hadn’t flown in anger for over twenty years. He had none of Nick’s charm or wit, and talked to everyone at the table with his head tilted upwards so he seldom made eye contact with anyone while he spoke. Teresa had seen this trait in many poor teachers with little interest in whether their pedagogy held any interest for their class. They simply enjoyed holding forth. Buey seemed no different.

  ‘Of course, what you have to understand is that Liverpool, Bootle and the Wallasey Pool complex are strategically very important locations to us. It’s such a large port, you see. Blighty’s main link with North America, and absolutely vital in the Battle of the Atlantic. In addition to providing anchorage for naval ships from many nations, its eleven miles of quays will handle over ninety per cent of all war material brought in from abroad. In a very real sense, without Liverpool, Britain could not prosecute this war. Not by a long chalk.’

  Teresa wasn’t sure who the group captain thought he was educating with this information since everyone around the table almost certainly knew it already. She did, and she wasn’t even in the RAF. Nor was she clear about who he thought would be interested in discussing it. That said, she was quite happy for the man to chunter on if it ate up the time until everyone would leave.

  For the past hour, she had barely dared look at Annie, in case she gave away something incriminating in her expression that Nick might pick up on. Reason told her that Nick could only detect something awry if he had been primed to look; and Teresa knew he hadn’t been. Nevertheless, the effort of ensuring the status quo was palpable. She sat at the table with her blouse glued to her back with sweat. If she had dared to glance across at Annie she would have seen Annie looking at her almost constantly.

  Sensing an opportunity to break into the group captain’s monologue and force the hostess to look at her, Annie dropped her spoon loudly into her now empty soup bowl and shattered his hold on the room.

  ‘Terrific soup, Teresa. You must let me have the recipe.’

  Teresa was now forced to look at Annie.

  ‘It isn’t my own.’

  The group captain’s wife, Lucinda, leaned over and placed her pudgy hand on Teresa’s forearm. Her sharp fingernails bit into Teresa’s flesh like the talons of a predatory bird.

  ‘A word to a newlywed – a wife should never admit that any of her ideas come from elsewhere, my dear. Take sole credit for everything as if you have created it sui generis. Accept every accolade that comes your way while you can – from guest or husband.’ She glanced faux-conspiratorially at her own husband for a second. ‘They soon dry up.’

  Annie smiled mischievously at Teresa. It was obvious she was openly flirting with her.

 
Don’t you dare . . .

  ‘So . . . accept my compliment.’

  Teresa paused for a moment, and then said, in the flattest way she could, ‘Thank you, Annie. Very kind of you.’

  Nick smiled amiably. The lunch was proceeding like a well-planned mission, all targets met. Boss happy. Wife and Annie getting to know one another. Food more than edible. Teresa looked beautiful, as always, and though a little quieter than he’d anticipated, she was effortlessly clever and funny at key moments. Teresa was even getting silly little marital tips from the silly little boss’s silly little wife, and taking it all admirably on the chin. She simply never put a foot wrong. It couldn’t be going better. With each passing minute, he loved her a fraction more. He caught Teresa’s eye and subtly charged his glass in her direction by way of congratulating her for the lunch party. Teresa smiled, accepting his compliment.

  ‘If it’s true that Hitler has shelved plans to invade, we can only assume it’s for the time being.’

  Group Captain Buey had found a new point on the wall opposite to engage in conversation.

  ‘Winston must understand that we need to use this hiatus to build more planes and train more pilots for when he tries again. I know Beaverbrook is—’

  Teresa turned to the group captain, trying to maintain her composure.

  ‘I’d hardly call pounding Liverpool into dust a “hiatus”, Michael.’

  The group captain was unused to being interrupted and turned towards Teresa with a patrician air, suggesting in body language alone that she clearly hadn’t grasped the profound point he was making.

  ‘In relative terms, I mean. What, after all, is the demolition of one city – albeit a strategically important one – against the capture of the entire kingdom?’

  ‘If it’s your home city, as Liverpool is Teresa’s, that comparison might sound a little, dare I say it, Group Captain, glib.’

  Teresa glanced at Annie. Her expression was serious. She was taking the man on. Defending her. Teresa couldn’t deny the warm glow of appreciation in the pit of her stomach. Nick decided to step in before things became too personal.

  ‘I don’t think it is glib, Annie. Michael is taking a broad strategic overview of the situation. Hitler’s decision to bomb instead of invade us means we have an opportunity to build newer, better aircraft before re-engaging.’

  ‘Yes, of course I understand that,’ Annie said. ‘Nevertheless—’

  ‘Think how exciting that will be for you, my dear,’ Lucinda interrupted. ‘All those new machines to fly around. What fun!’

  Annie looked at Lucinda and fixed a smile on her face.

  ‘What fun indeed. I can hardly contain my anticipation.’

  Teresa felt a pang of alarm shoot through her, certain that the group captain’s wife would pick up on Annie’s sarcastic tone.

  You think you’re impressing me but you’re not. I don’t need you to come to my defence. I can handle myself. However stupid and offensive they may be, I won’t have you mocking my husband’s guests at my table.

  But Annie’s sarcasm sailed clean over Lucinda’s head.

  ‘What are you transporting at the moment, my dear – Spits?’ Lucinda asked.

  Annie smiled indulgently.

  ‘The factories in and around Southampton were all but destroyed over the summer, so there are fewer Spitfires to relocate than there should be. But there are plenty of other aircraft to move around while production gets relocated.’

  ‘That can’t leave much time for chaps,’ Lucinda said.

  Teresa glanced at Annie with trepidation.

  Just smile. Say nothing. And move on.

  ‘Chaps?’ Annie said, as if she was unfamiliar with the word.

  ‘Boyfriends?’ Lucinda said.

  Just smile. Say nothing. And move on.

  Annie considered smiling demurely and batting Lucinda away gently with consummate ease. But Lucinda and her dull-as-ditchwater husband had been boring her all afternoon, and she had had enough.

  ‘I don’t have boyfriends, Mrs Buey.’

  Each word was like a small grenade going off in Teresa’s head.

  Please shut up. Please . . .

  Nick leaned in to Teresa and whispered, ‘I told you she was good value . . .’

  Lucinda looked at Annie, puzzled.

  ‘No boyfriends, my dear. Pretty girl like you?’

  Annie leaned forward and placed her elbows on the table and looked Lucinda squarely in the eye.

  ‘I stopped being a girl when I was eighteen, Mrs Buey.’

  Teresa tried to interrupt.

  ‘Annie?’

  ‘As for being “pretty”, I really don’t like the description. It’s a word men use to keep women in their place. I don’t like it. I don’t recognise it. I am a pilot, Mrs Buey. As good as any on the station—’

  Nick was intensely entertained by this exchange and charged his glass to Annie’s self-assessment.

  ‘In fact, better than most,’ he said.

  ‘The only thing better than flying crates around the country for the chaps to fly against the Luftwaffe would be to fly with them.’

  Group Captain Buey looked appalled.

  ‘But that would mean you would have to kill.’

  Annie swivelled her head to face Nick’s new boss, like a gun turret taking aim at a new target.

  ‘Do you think women aren’t up to fighting to save the realm? This is our country too.’

  Teresa felt herself growing increasingly angry. This was to have been a gentle social event for Nick to get to know his new group captain, not a platform for a suffragist diatribe. She sensed that Lucinda Buey was unaware of what she was getting into, and was making the mistake that Annie’s rank would make her somehow subordinate. Annie’s rank in the ATA was one thing. But her social ranking put her far higher than Lucinda Buey, and it was from this position that Teresa recognised Annie was now speaking.

  ‘Despite everything you say, my dear,’ Lucinda continued, visibly irked, ‘it is impossible to argue that while one or two of you may do what you do, a woman’s place is, and always will be, in the home.’

  Annie looked at Lucinda Buey coldly.

  ‘Not every woman is destined to be a wife or mother.’ She turned to Teresa. ‘No offence.’

  ‘I’m currently only one of those, and I’m also a teacher, so none taken.’

  Teresa seized the opportunity to steer the conversation towards less choppy waters.

  ‘But why don’t we stop talking about the war for a bit—’

  It was too late. Lucinda had clamped down hard on the bait, fixing Annie with a dark glower.

  ‘There is nothing wrong with being a wife and mother, young lady.’

  Her voice sounded manifestly aggressive.

  ‘I didn’t say there was,’ Annie replied, looking Lucinda directly in the eye.

  Lucinda may not have been the brightest of women, but she knew when she was being patronised.

  ‘Kindly adjust your tone,’ she said calmly.

  ‘Do I have a tone, Mrs Buey?’ Annie replied.

  ‘I know the sort of woman you are, my dear. All too well.’

  Teresa could stand it no longer.

  ‘May I borrow you for a moment in the kitchen, Annie. I need a little help with the next course.’

  Nick smiled at the group captain and his wife.

  ‘Chicken. A French recipe. Poulet!’

  Teresa followed Annie into the kitchen and closed the door behind her.

  ‘Now listen to me. You can either be civil to that woman or you can make your excuses and leave. It’s your choice.’

  Annie was riding high on gin and adrenaline, and in no mood for compromise with Lucinda Buey, or anyone.

  ‘I know the sort of woman you are.’ She aped Lucinda’s tone perfectly. ‘Condescending bitch.’

  ‘This lunch is for Nick to get to know his new group captain,’ Teresa said, keeping her voice low and firm. ‘Not for you to get stroppy and pick a fight with his
bloody wife!’

  ‘Are you going to be like this all your life, Teresa?’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘A coward.’

  Teresa felt a strong urge to slap Annie across her face, but resisted for Nick’s sake.

  ‘Whatever I’ve made of my life I’ve made it by my own efforts. Without support or financial backing. Whatever I’ve struggled with, and continue to struggle with, I do so to the best of my ability. What I don’t require is some over-privileged fly-girl sitting at my table putting everything I value at risk. So, what’s it to be?’

  I’ve half a mind to just tell you to leave. But that would raise more questions than I want to answer. I’m tired of this. I don’t want it. I simply want to get on with my life with Nick. Whatever that must involve, it won’t include constant fear. He doesn’t make me feel this way. He’s calm and considerate. He would never do to me what you’ve just done.

  Annie had never seen Teresa like this. She stared at Teresa for a few moments then stepped forward and kissed her on her mouth, enveloping Teresa in her arms.

  The shock of Annie’s embrace momentarily stunned Teresa. She felt the pilot’s soft lips on hers, and her slender hands pull her close. For a few seconds Teresa simply wanted to lose herself in this feeling, and allowed herself to be kissed and held. Suddenly, Teresa’s mind cleared, and she remembered that her husband was entertaining their guests just a few feet away. Teresa pulled herself free of Annie’s arms and took a step back.

  ‘What in God’s name do you think you’re doing?!’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Annie.

  Annie had never looked more beautiful to Teresa than she did at this moment, or more dangerous – her hair up, her eyes perfectly accentuated with discreet flecks of mascara, and her cheeks flushed with passion. Teresa had never felt more scared in her life.

  So much to gain. So much to lose.

  ‘This cannot happen. Do you understand?’

  ‘Teresa—’

  ‘You’ve clearly had far too much to drink.’

  ‘I’m not drunk, Teresa. And neither are you.’

  ‘Go back in while I prepare the next course,’ Teresa instructed. ‘Now.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Annie repeated, sobering up from the rush of adrenaline that had momentarily overtaken her. ‘I thought—’