by Ellie Dean
She bustled about, feeding Harvey, and then drew back the blackout curtains on the kitchen window. The fog meant there wouldn’t be any air raids tonight, so it didn’t matter if the light was showing – and if the warden didn’t like it, he could shove it under his tin hat.
The shrill ring of the telephone made them all jump, and Ivy shot off to answer it. Returning a minute later with a beaming smile, she said, ‘That were Ron. He’s up with the Yanks at Cliffe. Rita and Sarah are being seen by their medic – nothing too serious – and then they’re coming ’ome in the commanding officer’s car.’
‘Thank goodness for that,’ breathed Peggy, sitting down with a bump on the hard kitchen chair. ‘But what on earth is Sarah doing all the way over there and why do they need medical attention?’
Ivy shrugged. ‘Ron didn’t say. But their injuries can’t be too bad, otherwise they wouldn’t be coming ’ome, would they?’
‘I’m just thankful they’re both all right,’ said Cordelia on a tremulous breath.
So was Peggy, but she said nothing as she bustled about getting the rabbit stew warmed for when they got home. It was a foul night, and what was needed now was a hot meal and drinks and the sanctuary of home. But Sarah had a lot of explaining to do before the night was out.
Sarah was all too aware that she had a great deal to explain when she got back to Beach View, and as there was no way of avoiding it, she steeled herself against Cordelia’s disapproval and Peggy’s anger.
She sat next to Rita in the soft leather seats of the enormous staff car as Ron sat in the front, chatting to the driver, who was inching the car along the main road into Cliffehaven. She was at last warm and out of pain from her fixed dislocated shoulder and wrenched ankle, thanks to the hot cocoa laced with brandy and the strong pills the American medic had given her, but the shock of the accident still made her tremble and shiver.
It had all happened so fast. One minute she was riding pillion behind Rita, the next she was flung into the air, landing with an enormous thud onto the verge, the motorbike crashing over her on its way into the ditch. Sarah was very aware of how lucky they’d been, and the thought of what might have happened made her feel quite ill.
She stared out at the luminous grey of the night’s fog which enveloped everything around the crawling car, masking landmarks and wiping away all sense of direction. She wasn’t in the habit of telling lies, or being secretive, but this solitary lapse had taught her a very sobering lesson, and she vowed silently she’d never do it again.
‘You’re going to have to tell Aunt Peggy,’ murmured Rita, who’d been divested of her leather trousers and was now wearing American army camouflage over the heavy bandaging on her badly twisted knee.
‘I know,’ sighed Sarah. ‘And I’m really not looking forward to it. I love her so, and hate the thought of losing her respect.’
‘She’ll be all right once she’s calmed down,’ soothed Rita. ‘She’s bound to be cross with both of us, but we both know her bark is worse than her bite and it never lasts very long.’ She grimaced as she tried to get her leg into a more comfortable position. ‘I’m just sorry we’ve put her through all that worry. She frets enough over us all, and must have been going through torture tonight, running round trying to find us.’
Sarah nodded, her low spirits ebbing further. ‘I feel terrible about adding to her fears, and horribly guilty about what I did today.’
Rita took her hand. ‘There’s nothing for you to feel guilty about. We’re all struggling, Sarah,’ she said softly. ‘And when there’s a chance to grab a little happiness, we have to take it. I’d have done the same, believe me.’
Sarah returned the pressure of her fingers in silent empathy as the car slid to a halt outside Beach View.
Peggy and the others must have been looking out for them, for as Ron and the driver got out of the car the door was flung open and a stream of light glittered in the fog. Peggy rushed down the steps with Ivy and Fran, and swamped the two girls with kisses and hugs as Harvey danced around them, and Cordelia watched from the doorway with Andy and John.
The driver scooped Sarah up in strong arms as Ron lifted out Rita, and they were carried up the steps into the hall and through to the kitchen. Everyone was talking at once, asking what had happened and how bad their injuries were, while Peggy bustled about insisting the American driver had something to eat and drink before he made the long, perilous drive back to the camp.
Sarah hobbled straight to her great-aunt and awkwardly embraced her. ‘I’m so glad to be home,’ she breathed close to the soft cheek. ‘And I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am that you’ve been so worried.’
Cordelia stroked back her fair hair and gazed into her eyes. ‘At least you’re home safe now. I couldn’t bear the thought that you both might have been alone out there on such an awful night.’ She frowned. ‘What I can’t understand is why you were there in the first place. I thought you were meeting a friend?’
‘I was – in a manner of speaking,’ Sarah confessed. ‘But I’ll explain everything later when it’s quieter.’
Cordelia raised an eyebrow but said nothing more as the American finished the cup of tea, wished them luck and hurried off with one of Peggy’s paste sandwiches to keep him going on the long drive back to base.
The talk went on round the table as Ron and Rita tucked into the stew and Harvey sat patiently waiting for a morsel to come his way. Sarah had little appetite, but she forced down as much as she could and left the rest for the clever dog who deserved it far more than she did. She was aware of the questioning look in Peggy’s eyes every time they exchanged glances, and knew it wouldn’t be long before she had to reveal where she’d been today – and who with.
Once John and Andy had left, the chatter dwindled into silence as the late news came over the wireless – and when it was realised that there was nothing about the promised invasion, the girls prepared for bed. Fran was on earlies the next day, so was Ivy, and as they helped Rita up the stairs, the silence in the kitchen deepened and all eyes turned to Sarah.
She lit a cigarette and to her dismay found that her fingers were trembling so badly she could hardly hold on to it. ‘Firstly,’ she began hesitantly, ‘I want to apologise for my behaviour today. It was thoughtless and unkind after all you’ve done for me, and I promise never to lie to you again.’ She looked from Peggy to Cordelia and then to Ron, trying to read their thoughts in their expressions.
‘To be sure, wee girl, you were not the only one to cause worry today,’ muttered Ron.
Sarah managed a faint smile. ‘Thanks, Ron, but it’s no excuse.’ She licked her lips and took a deep breath. ‘I got a letter yesterday from Delaney Hammond.’
‘The American captain from up at Cliffe?’ asked Cordelia.
Sarah nodded. ‘He’s been promoted twice since leaving Cliffe, and is a Lieutenant Colonel now.’
Peggy didn’t look impressed. ‘I thought you two had stopped writing to each other,’ she said flatly.
‘Not really,’ Sarah confessed. ‘We don’t write as often as we once did, but we’re still in touch, and as I’m up first most days I collect my post, if it has arrived, and read it at work.’
She looked at Peggy, silently imploring her to understand. ‘Delaney telephoned this morning to say he was being flown into Cliffe for an important meeting, and would be there for a few hours before he had to fly out again to join his new command. And I had to see him, Peggy.’
Peggy patted her hand. ‘I can understand that, my dear,’ she said softly. ‘But was it really wise to start things up again when there’s still no news of Philip?’
‘I know it wasn’t wise, and yes, I feel horribly guilty about Philip, but with things the way they are, I needed to see him just once more before he got involved in the fighting again.’
‘He’s no kind of gentleman to leave you to walk home all that way alone in such appalling weather,’ said Cordelia crossly. ‘No Englishman would have been so ungallant.’
/> ‘That was my fault entirely,’ Sarah said quickly. ‘He couldn’t leave the aerodrome because he was officially on duty, and I insisted upon walking home despite his offer of trying to get a car and driver.’
She lowered her head and let her long fair hair fall over her burning cheeks. ‘I wanted to spend every last moment with him, you see, and had planned to walk back along the road instead of over the hills as I usually do from the estate. The fog wasn’t that bad when his plane took off, so I thought I’d be all right.’
She dared to look up. ‘I know he’s married, and I know it’s shameful to feel like this when I should be thinking only of Philip – but I can’t help it.’
‘There can be no future in it, Sarah,’ said Peggy, lovingly tucking a loose strand of hair behind Sarah’s ear. ‘So why torture yourself by going to see him?’
‘I needed to know if it had all been a bit of a fling – just a mild flirtation between two lonely people far from their loved ones who’d made rather more of it than it warranted – or something deeper.’ She took in a ragged breath and blinked back her tears. ‘In a way, I wish we hadn’t met today, because it’s just made everything far more complicated – for both of us.’
‘Well, I’m sorry, dear,’ said Cordelia crisply. ‘But if you will play with fire you’ll get burnt. It was unfair of him to keep writing to you – let alone turn up here and disrupt everything. I hope he realises how very difficult he’s made things for you.’
Sarah nodded. ‘It’s difficult for both of us, but we had to grab this last chance of seeing one another. None of us know what the future holds, especially with all this talk of an Allied invasion – and it would have been simply awful if we’d not met, and something happened to him.’
Peggy drew Sarah into a gentle embrace. ‘We do understand, really we do. But we’re worried about you. I wish you’d confided in me, I wouldn’t have been cross.’
Sarah hugged her back and then dried her eyes. ‘I know, but I was scared you might think less of me for falling in love with a married man when I’m already engaged.’
‘Silly goose,’ Peggy chided softly. ‘When it comes to matters of the heart we have no defence against our feelings. Of course I don’t think less of you.’ She smiled into her eyes. ‘I’m just glad you and Rita got back safely – but what was she doing all the way out there?’
‘She’d been on the hills overlooking the airfield to watch the planes coming in and going out. She told me she felt closer to Matt by just being there, but as the fog rolled in and she realised it would be too dangerous to ride back cross-country, she headed down to the valley to take the road home.’
Sarah grinned. ‘She almost ran me over – going too fast as usual – but it was a relief to see her, even though it was a bit hairy riding pillion.’
‘You were lucky you weren’t both killed,’ said Cordelia with a shudder.
‘I put in a full complaint with the commanding officer up at Cliffe,’ rumbled Ron, ‘and he assures me the driver of that transport truck will be severely punished, and that Rita’s bike will be restored as soon as possible.’
He slowly got to his feet and came round the table to kiss Sarah on the cheek. ‘It’s good to have you both home again. Now Harvey and I are off to our beds. It’s been a long, exhausting day.’
It wasn’t long before Sarah was in her own bed, and as she lay there in the darkness listening to Fran snuffling in her sleep, she snuggled down beneath the blankets, closed her eyes and relived those precious few hours she’d spent with Delaney.
She’d thought she was in love with Philip when he’d asked her to marry him, but what she felt for Delaney was far deeper and stronger – an irresistible force against which she had no defence.
Her smile was soft as she thought of the kisses and caresses they’d shared, but her troubled conscience refused to let her sleep despite her exhaustion. How could something so very wrong feel so utterly and wonderfully right?
8
Burma
The moonlight was glowing on the turbulent water as two heavily armed platoons of Gurkhas and Riflemen climbed into the assault boats and motored out into the middle of the great Chindwin River towing other boats behind them. Jim and the men on shore were alert for any sight of the enemy; the machine gunners’ thumbs on the double-tap button, the mortar-men poised with ammo in hand, the launchers’ sights set on the jungle-clad cliff on the other side.
The tension was broken by the roar of three Mustangs flashing up from the south at low altitude to heavily bomb the line of Japanese telegraph poles on the far side of the river and give support should the men on the ground come under attack.
Jim and Ernie stood armed and ready next to Big Bert to watch as great fountains of earth exploded beneath the fighters, and then gasped in awe as the pilots turned up-river and came in even lower, dipping a wing almost to ground level to rip out the wires still attached to the telegraph poles. Jim found he’d been holding his breath and let it out in a great gasp as the brave and utterly fearless American pilots flew away to circle lazily high above them on guard duty.
But there was no time to stand and stare, for men, equipment, horses and mules had to be moved across the river and the sky was already lightening as a red flare went up on the far bank to signal it was clear of any enemy and the advance guard was dug in on the clifftop.
As the day wore on and the heat rose, the crossing of the Chindwin became a battle of wills between the stubborn mules and the equally stubborn but rapidly tiring men who were sweating, swearing and straining to get the animals to the other side while it was still light. A string of twenty or so beasts would be forcibly led into the water, only for them to panic mid-stream and head back to shore, while others fought their handlers and restraints, kicked out viciously and threatened to sink their huge yellow teeth into anyone who dared get near them as they refused to leave the shore.
Jim and his men were utterly exhausted; soaked with sweat, stripped to the waist and at the very end of their tether as they leant far out over the boat’s gunwales to drag the two mutinous and spitting mules by their halters through the water. Jim had lost count of the number of times he’d made this journey, but it seemed these particular beasts had finally got the right idea and were now swimming – albeit reluctantly.
They reached the bank and passed the mules over to their handlers, and then sank on the ground to drink deeply from their water canteens and bolster their flagging energy by eating some of their K-rations before they had to do it all again.
Jim looked around him. The shore was littered with mules, saddles, damaged boats, ropes, radios and stores as men struggled to bring in more of the recalcitrant beasts and tried to bring some order to the chaos. He squinted against the glare of the sun and checked his watch. The day had flown, and within a couple of hours the sun would begin to sink and it would be night again.
‘We should have completed the crossing by now,’ he muttered to Ernie who’d flopped into the sand beside him. ‘But I reckon we’ve got less than a fifth of those damned mules across the water. At this rate, we’ll still be at it by nightfall.’
‘In my experience,’ said Big Bert, lighting a smoke, ‘neither mules nor horses can be made to do a long river crossing in the dark – so we’d better try and get as many as possible over before then. Without them, it’ll be us carrying all the equipment.’
Jim grabbed his carbine, wearily got to his feet and roused the other men, his gaze trawling the skies and his surroundings. The operation had been conducted during the glare of the day, and it had hardly been silent. If the enemy was nearby, the entire day’s work would have been in full view for at least five miles in both directions, so he had to assume that the Japanese knew they were there and what they were doing.
He glanced across at his commanding officer who was standing sturdily on the sand, his binoculars sweeping both shorelines, his expression grim. He didn’t envy the man’s task, for even if the Japs didn’t have a strong enough force to a
ttack and prevent the crossing, they could certainly inflict casualties – or tail and harass the column before it reached the designated operations target, which was still many miles away.
Jim climbed wearily into the assault boat after the men in his platoon and sat at the stern with his carbine arching a slow sweep along the jungle ridge behind them as men on horseback attempted to bully the mules across the water. Getting the men and horses across before dusk would be easy, but without the mules to carry their heavy weapons, reserves of ammo, demolition sets, medical stores, tools and radios, they’d be useless if they came under attack.
Jim and the other men had made another successful crossing, but getting two or three mules at a time over the river was making a very small dent in the large number that still milled about on the shore, so he wasn’t surprised when his commanding officer ordered everyone to be still and listen.
The man was thin to the point of gaunt, his khaki shorts billowing above deeply tanned, sinewy legs, his face weathered by his years of commanding troops in India and Africa. But looks were deceptive, for he’d proven to be as strong and resilient as the mules, and had earned great respect from all of them for his leadership qualities and common sense.
‘This isn’t a decision I’ve made lightly,’ he said to the half-circle of commissioned and non-commissioned officers standing before him. ‘All crossings will stop at fifteen hundred hours. Forty column will head back with the excess mules to join forty-nine and ninety-four column in their mopping-up operations.’
Jim glanced across at the officer in charge of 40 column and knew he’d have a tough march to catch up with the others, for they were already two days ahead.
‘Brigade HQ and the rest of thirty column will cross the river and continue on to our rendezvous point. We’ll be short on mules, but we do have the horses, so we’ll just have to make the best of it and carry what we can.’