The Fleethaven Trilogy

by Margaret Dickinson

  The barmaid had gone back to leaning against the bar and had resumed her nail examination.

  Kate smiled as she sipped her drink. ‘And you – given half a chance.’

  He grinned and then sighed. ‘What I’d give sometimes to be safely back at Fleethaven Point playing dominoes with the old ’uns! I had a game with ’em last time I was home.’

  ‘Have – you flown any missions yet?’

  He twisted the glass round and round as it stood on the table, staring at it but not really seeing it. The frothy beer slopped from side to side in the glass. ‘Yup,’ he answered shortly.

  ‘Is it very bad?’

  There was silence for a moment. ‘Varies.’

  She leaned forward. ‘Danny. It’s me – Kate. You can talk to me about it.’

  He sighed deeply. ‘It’s not that, Katie, you know I’d tell you. But – well – we all like to try to forget about it for a while when we’re out. Y’know.’

  ‘Oh, I see,’ she said, but her tone indicated the opposite. He was leading a different life now, a life in which she had no part and he was reluctant to tell her about it. She felt resentful.

  Sensing her mood, he grinned. ‘Come on, Katie. Let’s go for a walk up the hill, eh? It’s stopped raining.’

  Mollified a little, she agreed.

  They climbed Steep Hill, their arms linked casually, talking when they felt like it, or just in companionable silence.

  ‘Tell me how things are at home. Have you managed any leave recently?’ he asked her.

  ‘No – not since you were there. It was difficult – after the air-raid.’ She was silent for a moment, thinking about Rosie, seeing in her mind’s eye the girl in the shadows of the pillbox with a soldier.

  ‘You were right about Rosie,’ she murmured.

  She felt his arm stiffen under hers. ‘Rosie? What about Rosie?’

  She couldn’t see his face in the blackness, but there was a strange note in his tone, almost like a defensiveness.

  Kate was silent. She was remembering now Rosie begging her not to tell Danny. Of all people, she didn’t want Danny to know. Kate felt guilty, wishing she had kept quiet. She’d had a little too much to drink, that was the trouble; her mouth was apt to say what it liked.

  ‘Kate?’ he prompted. He was not going to let it rest there.

  ‘Oh, it’s nothing. She just flirts about a bit. You know.’

  He stopped and turned to face her, taking hold of her shoulders, peering at her through the darkness. ‘No, I don’t know. You tell me.’

  I – I caught her in that pillbox the army has built at the Point – with one of the soldiers.’

  For a moment, his fingers dug into her arms. Then he let go.

  ‘Well, I’m not having that. Next time I go home, I’ll sort her out – an’ him, if need be.’

  ‘Oh Danny, don’t be stupid. I wish I hadn’t told you.’

  ‘I’m glad you did. I wouldn’t want to see young Rosiè getting ’ersen into trouble.’

  ‘And how are we going to stop her? We’re not there.’

  ‘I’ll think of something,’ Danny muttered.

  They walked along in silence, Kate wishing she hadn’t let her unruly tongue run away with itself.

  ‘We’d better be getting back to the dance hall. It must be getting late.’

  They turned and walked back down the hill, their footsteps echoing hollowly on the cobbles.

  When they arrived back at the hall, the caretakers were clearing up. There was no sign of any of their friends.

  And worse still – all the transport trucks had disappeared.

  Twenty-Seven

  ‘Oh heck! Now what are we going to do?’ Danny muttered, while Kate stared in horror at the spot where the trucks had been parked. There was not a vehicle of any sort to be seen.

  ‘Come on,’ Danny said. ‘We’ll start walking and see if we can hitch a lift.’

  ‘Not likely,’ she argued, finding her voice. ‘I’ve tried that once before. I’m not walking all that way . . .’

  ‘What do you mean, you’ve done it before?’ he asked, a belligerent note in his voice. ‘When?’

  ‘When I ran away from school – remember? I walked for miles, got soaking wet – and lost! There’ll be nothing come along at this time of night to give us a lift. Shouldn’t think that carrier of mine’s out at this hour – even if he’s still around.’

  ‘Don’t be daft, Kate. That’s years ago. It’s a fine night – no rain. You’re not a fourteen-year-old kid any more, and besides . . .’

  She could hear the amusement in his voice and although she couldn’t actually see it, knew he was smiling. ‘What?’

  ‘You’ve got me with you this time!’

  ‘Ah well,’ she said, laughing and linking her arm through his again. ‘That makes all the difference!’

  ‘I don’t know what we’re laughing for, ’cos there’s going to be hell to pay when we get back – it’ll be jankers at the very least for both of us.’

  ‘Oh, I’ll be all right,’ Kate said confidently. ‘I’m the CO’s pet driver.’

  You wouldn’t think so, Kate was thinking to herself the next morning as she faced a livid Philip Trent across his desk, or that I’d saved his life – twice!

  She was standing to attention, so rigidly that her back began to ache. It was like waiting for sentence to be passed. In this mood he was going to throw the book at her and, most likely, at her section commander too. She and Danny had walked up Steep Hill and out on to the Wragby Road. They’d only had to walk a couple of miles before they had hitched a lift to within two miles of Suddaby camp. Danny left her at the gate and disappeared into the night to get back to his own station. She wondered how he was faring now, up before his own CO!

  Kate had reported to the guardroom, praying that it was Isobel’s friend on duty. But her luck had run out; the man was a stranger to her and one who obviously stuck rigidly to the rule book.

  She had been reported to Chiefy for being half an hour late.

  ‘Oh Kate,’ Martin moaned at her, running his hand across his bald pate. ‘You would make life difficult. I can hardly confine you to barracks for a couple of days when you’re the CO’s driver.’ He’d sighed and fiddled with his pen on the desk. ‘Look, I’ll let it go this time. But we’ll have to hope the CO doesn’t hear about it, or we’re both in trouble.’

  And now she was standing facing Group Captain Trent and wondering how on earth he had heard about her escapade.

  ‘Everyone else got back on time. Where were you?’ Philip barked, his handsome face creased with angry lines.

  ‘We took a walk, sir.’

  ‘We? Who’s we?’

  ‘Danny Eland, sir.’

  ‘Oh!’ For a moment he seemed nonplussed. ‘That’s – er – Danny from home?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘I – didn’t realize he was stationed nearby.’

  Kate remained silent, her gaze fixed on the top button of his jacket. Philip ran his hand distractedly through his short, springy hair. ‘I was worried sick, Kate. Don’t ever do that to me again.’

  ‘What?’ she could not prevent the surprise in her tone. His remark – nor the tone in his voice now – was not that of a commanding officer. Then she recollected herself. ‘No, sir.’

  He stood up and came round the desk. ‘You can stop standing there like you’re on parade now.’

  She relaxed and, for the first time, met his eyes. The anger had gone, but the anxiety still lingered. ‘A girl was injured last week walking back to camp in the night. It was an accident, of course, but in the blackout, the driver didn’t see her,’ he explained softly. ‘I couldn’t get it out of my mind when I knew you weren’t back.’

  ‘How did you know I wasn’t back?’ she asked in a small voice.

  He smiled now, a little sheepishly, Kate thought. ‘Oh, I – er – sent for you. Your friends tried to cover for you valiantly, but it was obvious you weren’t there and that they didn’
t know where you were.’

  ‘I’m sorry. Did you want driving somewhere?’

  ‘No,’ he said, but did not offer any further explanation.

  Kate was thankful that Philip took no further action against her or Flight Sergeant Martin, although it rather surprised her. He had been so very angry at first, yet his fury seemed to stem from anxiety about her safety rather than that she had broken the rules.

  She doubted Danny had been so fortunate and she waited anxiously for a letter. But the days went by, a week and then two, and no word came from Danny.

  ‘The Adj has just rung through,’ Chiefy bent his head under the raised bonnet of the Humber where Kate was changing the plugs. ‘CO’s been summoned to a high level meeting at Group HQ. You’re likely to be very late back . . .’ He grinned at her. ‘Officially, this time!’

  ‘Sir!’ Kate smiled and connected the final plug. She packed up her tool kit, wiped her hands on a rag and then sprinted to the wash-room.

  Seven hours later she was dozing fitfully in the car parked in the sweeping driveway of Group Headquarters when the sudden sound of someone opening the passenger door and climbing in made her jump.

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry, sir . . .’

  ‘Don’t apologize, Kate,’ Philip said gently, his voice heavy with tiredness. ‘I hope you haven’t been sitting here all this time. Have you had something to eat?’

  ‘Oh yes, I’ve been fine. I only came back to the car about an hour ago when I heard the meeting was breaking up.’

  ‘Yes. Sorry about that, I got caught up with the CO from East Markham. I’m afraid he needs a lift back, Kate. His car broke down on the way here. He’ll be here in a minute.’

  Wearily, Philip removed his hat and ran his fingers through his thick hair that curled so tightly each curl was like a coiled spring. He leaned his head back against the seat and closed his eyes.

  ‘Er, shouldn’t you really sit in the back, sir?’ Kate said hesitantly, reluctant to disturb him, but if they were to have company in the car . . .

  His head snapped up and his eyes opened. ‘Oh Lord, yes.’ As he opened the door and swung his legs out, Kate was sure she heard him mutter, ‘ . . . and I was so looking forward to sitting in front with you.’

  By the time Group Captain Sellick appeared and Kate hopped out to open the door for him, Philip was sitting sedately in the back seat.

  ‘This is very decent of you, Trent.’

  ‘Not at all,’ she heard Philip reply as they left Grantham and headed out into the black country road. The moonlight was only fitful as heavy clouds scudded across it. One moment the landscape was bathed in silvery light, the next plunged into pitch blackness. Thank goodness for all that rigorous night driving during training, Kate thought.

  Suddenly she slammed both her feet down hard on the brake and the clutch pedal as a black shape loomed up directly in front. The heavy car slithered to the right, throwing the occupants sliding about the back seat.

  ‘What the devil?’ she heard one of them mutter as the car came to a halt on the grass verge. Kate half turned her head to see the sorrowful faces of several cows pressed close to the car windows.

  ‘Ahem – it seems they have us surrounded,’ Group Captain Sellick said, making no effort to move.

  Kate was out of the car and closing the door behind her. ‘Come on, cush, cush. Now where have you lot come from, I wonder?’ Out in the night air, her eyes became more accustomed to the darkness. She moved among the cows, gently pushing them. ‘There, there, girl . . . Ah, now I see.’ Dimly, in the fitful moonlight, she could see that the hedge into a nearby field had been trampled down. ‘And I see you’ve brought Dobbin with you too, have you?’ she added, laughing softly to herself as she saw a cart-horse amongst the herd.

  Slapping the rump of the nearest cow, she turned it and shooed it back towards the opening, all the time murmuring soothing encouragement. Thankfully, she saw the rest of the herd turn and follow the lead of the first cow.

  ‘Want any help?’ she heard Philip call.

  ‘Can you get hold of the horse and bring him along?’ she called back. ‘They’ve got out of a hole in the hedge here. He must have been in the same field.’

  He seemed to hesitate a moment before he said, ‘Right.’

  It took a good twenty minutes to get all the cows back into the field and lastly the horse, who seemed the most reluctant of all to return.

  ‘Come on, boy,’ Kate said, letting him nuzzle her hand. ‘I’d have brought a sugar lump if I’d known we were going to meet like this.’

  Philip’s voice came out of the blackness. ‘Oh, I don’t mind about the sugar.’

  Kate giggled. ‘Careful, he might hear you . . .’

  ‘Not him! He’s staying safely in the car. You’d never think he was a DFC and yet daren’t get in amongst a herd of cows.’

  ‘Can you grab hold of his mane on your side? Come on, boy.’ There was a pause while they struggled to get the horse to move. Suddenly it shot forward, through the hole and into the field.

  ‘Thank goodness,’ Kate breathed relief. Together they turned to walk back towards the car.

  Philip sneezed three times in quick succession. ‘Maybe he’s getting ready to award you the DFC Through the darkness she heard his deep chuckle. ‘Not the Distinguished Flying Cross, of course. I was thinking more of something like . . . Dispersing Frightening Cows.’

  Reaching the car, Kate stifled her laughter. As she started the engine, Group Captain Sellick asked casually, ‘Brought up on a farm, were you, driver?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘Ah – that explains it then.’

  Beside him, Philip sneezed again – three times.

  When they delivered their passenger to East Markham, Kate thought fleetingly that maybe Danny was quite close . . . Then, in the dim light, Kate’s attention was caught by the sight of a dark patch on the right side of Philip’s face. And he was still sneezing every few minutes. As they pulled away from the gate, she asked with concern, ‘Are you all right, sir?’

  ‘Kate – we’re on our own now. Drop all this “sir” nonsense. Yes, thanks, I’m fine.’ He didn’t sound it, she thought. He sounded as if he had suddenly developed a dreadful head cold.

  ‘But – your face . . .?’

  ‘It’s only a rash. It was the horse.’

  Mystified, she repeated, ‘The horse?’

  ‘I get a kind of hay-fever when I get near horses and dogs.’

  ‘Really? Oh, I am sorry. I wouldn’t have asked you to help if I’d known.’

  ‘It’s nothing. It’ll wear off after a time.’

  ‘And the rash on your face . . .?’

  ‘I touched the horse and then my face. It’s all part of the allergy.’ He grinned. ‘Pull over a minute. I think I’ll sit up front with you – at least until we get back near camp. I rather like sitting next to you, Corporal Hilton.’

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘Oh yes,’ Philip said airily as he got in beside her. ‘I’ve recommended you for promotion. You’ll be made up to corporal next week.’

  Kate was thankful for the darkness for she knew her face was pink with pleasure.

  ‘You should have seen the East Markham CO sitting rigidly in the middle of the back seat, hardly daring to move!’ Kate regaled the others with her story later that night. ‘And then poor old Ph . . .’ Quickly she corrected herself. ‘Our poor old CO, when he got out to help me, started sneezing his head off. Seems he gets a type of hay-fever from horses and dogs.’

  Mavis was nodding. ‘My dad does and so does my younger brother. It can be hereditary, evidently.’

  ‘Really?’ Kate said. ‘I can’t say I’ve ever heard of it before. I know about ordinary hay-fever of course, but not from animals.’

  ‘Good job you don’t get it, Kate, brought up among all the moo-moos and gee-gees, you’d never stop sneezing!’ Isobel drawled.

  Kate glanced across at Isobel lying languidly on her bed blowing smoke rings into the air.
Isobel would never change completely, she thought. The odd snide remark slipped out occasionally. Right now she was probably feeling miffed at the news of Kate’s promotion.

  Kate smiled to herself. There was a vast difference in one way, though; now Kate was strong enough not to be hurt by anything Isobel said.

  The early months of 1941 had been gripped with wintry weather and operations were often cancelled. But with the coming of spring, activity at Suddaby increased. Almost nightly there were bombing raids over enemy territory and Philip never left the station when ‘his boys’ were away on a raid. Kate was kept busy driving him around the huge airfield; to briefing sessions, watching the ground crews bombing-up, and then later out to dispersal. Often he would ask Kate to drive the bus taking the crews out to the waiting aircraft, climbing aboard the vehicle himself and staying with the airmen until the last moment.

  Kate’s admiration for the pilots and the other members of the crews grew. They laughed and joked on the bus, as if they were on a jolly works outing, flirting a little with her as they clattered down the steps in their bulky flying jackets and boots.

  ‘See you later, sweetheart.’

  ‘How about a date on Saturday night, gorgeous?’

  On one such trip, she met Sandy Petersen again when she drove him and the rest of the crew of T-Tommy out to their aircraft. Sandy, with hair the colour to match his nickname, was a little more persistent in his approach. ‘There’s a good film on in Lincoln on Friday. If we’re not flying would you like to go?’

  Kate smiled. ‘Yes, thanks, Sandy. I would.’

  The smile he gave her as he waved goodbye stayed with her through the long night. She waved as he crossed the tarmac towards the huge bulk of the waiting aircraft. In the dusk she saw him raise his right arm in farewell.

  Kate turned the bus around to drive Philip back to the control tower where they went up on to the roof to watch take-off. On clear, fine nights they would stay out in the open, only sheltering in the glass observation room if it were cold or wet.

  As the engines of the sixteen Avro Manchesters burst into life and taxied out on to the runways, the ground seemed to vibrate with their throbbing; the whole world seemed filled with noise. They took off, labouring into the night sky, cumbersome with their weight of bombs. Then, for those left behind, came the long hours of dreadful waiting.