As they rounded the headland the twilight was deepening. The lights were twinkling around the harbour and bay, casting shimmering glints of gold onto the darkness of the sea. They walked past the stalls where, during the day, cockles, mussels, crabs, lobsters and many other kinds of seafood were on sale. The stalls were closed now for the night, but the fishy aroma still lingered. It was not an unpleasant smell, one that the residents were used to and to which visitors to the town soon became accustomed. It was the very essence of Scarborough.
‘I’ve been wanting to get to know you better for some time,’ Dominic said now, quite seriously, with no trace of his usual teasing manner. ‘Would you like to go out with me sometime, while we’re both on holiday? To a concert perhaps, or…I heard you say that you ride a bicycle. I do, too. We could ride out to…the Forge Valley, perhaps? That is…if you would like to?’
‘Thank you,’ she replied. ‘Yes, I would; I’d like that very much.’ She was seeing a different side to him now. He had appeared diffident in his approach to her, almost as though he was afraid she might refuse.
‘That’s good,’ he said. She could hear the relief in his voice. But in an instant he had reverted to his joking self. ‘I’d have felt such a nincompoop if you had turned me down. I’ll see what’s on at the Spa Pavilion. There’s sure to be a concert of some sort; an orchestra or a choral evening.’
‘That would be lovely,’ she said, smiling at him a little shyly. The smile he gave her in return was just as bashful.
‘Come along,’ he said. ‘We’d better step out a bit now. It’s getting dark and I don’t want you to get into trouble with your parents for being out late. To say nothing of your brother.’ He chuckled. ‘I shall have to take good care of you or I’ll have Tommy to reckon with… You’re very close, you and your brother, aren’t you?’
‘Yes, I suppose we are,’ she replied. ‘That’s because we’re twins, of course. We put up a pretence sometimes of not being able to stand the sight of one another, but I think the world of him really. And I daresay he feels the same about me.’
‘Take my word for it, he does,’ replied Dominic.
They walked up the steep path which led from the lower promenade up to the Grand Hotel, then across the Spa Bridge onto the esplanade. Dominic was unusually quiet as they approached Tilly’s home on Victoria Avenue. He lived not very far away, a little further inland.
They stopped by the gate, looking at one another unsurely. Tilly had known she would be shy when it came to saying goodnight, but she was surprised by Dominic’s reticence. After a moment or two he leant towards her and kissed her gently on the cheek. She was relieved, this first time, that he was not being more daring. She had never been kissed by a boy and had wondered just how one went about it. Maybe next time…she thought to herself.
‘I’ve had a lovely evening,’ said Dominic, ‘and I’ve really enjoyed your company, Tilly… Would you come out with me on Saturday…or is that too soon? I mean…you might have other plans for all I know.’
‘No, I haven’t,’ she said, smiling. ‘Saturday would be lovely. There’s a concert of light classical music at the Spa,’ she went on, deciding to give him a little encouragement. ‘I noticed it on a billboard on the bridge. That would be…well…it would be right up my street.’
‘Mine too,’ he replied, his blue eyes alight with enthusiasm. ‘I’ll get tickets then, shall I?’
‘Yes, please.’
‘And…is it all right if I phone you, to tell you what time I’ll call for you?’
‘Of course it is.’
‘Well…goodnight then, Tilly…’
‘Goodnight, Dominic. And…I’ve enjoyed it too; ever so much.’
‘Toodle-oo, then.’ He fluttered his fingers in a casual wave, more like the cheeky Dominic she had been used to, before striding away.
Tilly smiled to herself. She knew she would have to put up with her brother’s teasing when he found out about her date. But she didn’t care. Life, at the moment, was full of promise, despite the grim news that threatened to envelop them all.
The visit to the Spa Pavilion on the Saturday evening was followed by another meeting of the two young people the following week. Dominic, as he had promised, went to hear Tilly play the piano at the church social evening. He walked home with her afterwards and this time he kissed her gently on the lips as they said goodnight. There was a noticeable difference between his behaviour towards her and the jolly camaraderie he displayed with her brother and his other friends. It was good, though, to be treated with respect and as though she was special to him. She hoped he would realise soon, though, that she was not made of delicate china; that she was, rather, a girl on the brink of womanhood, with a woman’s warm thoughts and feelings.
Very soon it was accepted in the family that Dominic was Tilly’s young man. He was invited to stay for meals now because he was Tilly’s, as well as Tommy’s, friend.
‘The first of many boyfriends, I should imagine,’ William remarked to his wife. ‘They are very young and they have years of studying to do yet, the pair of them. But he’s a nice lad and he seems very fond of her. None of us knows what lies ahead, though. It’s not looking any too good. Happen it’s best to make hay while the sun shines…’
As the summer advanced, so did the news of war become more and more urgent. By August 17th the British Expeditionary Force had landed in France, and it was believed by a patriotic nation that the Germans would quickly be put in their place.
But this spirit of optimism could not continue for long, as the German armies swept through Belgium and into France. A week later the British and French troops were forced to retreat from Mons. The vain hope that it would all be over by Christmas died on the lips of those at home as they read the grim casualty figures; British casualties at the Battle of Ypres had totalled a hundred thousand. By the end of the summer there was a line of trenches and barbed wire reaching from the Swiss border to the Channel ports.
And still Lord Kitchener’s face and pointing finger were seen on posters all over the land, proclaiming, ‘Your Country Needs You’.
Chapter Six
On Monday, December 16th, the week began just as any other week at the Nicholls’ family home, with Maddy, Freddie and little Amy sitting at the breakfast table. Two-year-old Amy was managing very well now, eating her meals with only a little assistance from her mother or father. As the clock struck eight she was eagerly spooning the milky porridge into her mouth whilst Maddy and Freddie were eating boiled eggs with toast. Only on a Sunday morning when Freddie was not working did they have the time to enjoy the luxury of bacon and eggs with maybe an odd sausage or two. When Maddy had finished she would help Amy with her boiled egg and ‘soldiers’, which she had not yet mastered without making a gooey mess. And Amy hated mess; she was a particularly neat and tidy child.
But they did not manage to complete their meal. Suddenly there was a tremendous crash which caused Amy to drop her spoon in alarm. Not only that; the porridge spilt out of the bowl onto the tray of her high chair, and on the dining table the toast flew out of the rack and the cups and saucers jiggled, spilling the tea onto the cloth.
‘Mummee…’ cried Amy. ‘Big bang! It frightened Amy.’ She did not look too scared, however; she was a hardy little soul.
‘Thunder…?’ said Maddy, unsurely. ‘It must be thunder, although it’s the wrong time of the—’ She did not finish her sentence as a second, even louder, crash followed the first one.
Freddie jumped to his feet. ‘I know what it sounds like,’ he said. ‘A bomb dropping, although I must admit I’ve never heard one… I’ll just go and see…’ He pushed back his chair and fled out of the room, down the stairs and out into Eastborough. There were only a few people about, and they were all running as fast as they could away from the sea, which was not more than fifty yards away.
One of the men, whom Freddie recognised as a neighbour from a few doors away, yelled to him. ‘It’s the Germans; the bloody Germans! Th
ey’re shelling the town.’
‘What?’ cried Freddie in disbelief.
‘Aye; I’ve seen if for meself. Three bloody great battleships in t’ bay. You’d best get back inside, mate, if you want to live to see tomorrer.’
Freddie stood transfixed for a moment. Then he heard the scream of a shell which appeared to be coming straight towards him, although it was, in fact, skimming the roofs of the houses. It was tumbling over and over until, finally, it crashed onto a rooftop further up the street. From what Freddie could make out, he thought it was the premises of Mr and Mrs Johnson, who owned a sweet and tobacconists shop.
He dashed back through their own little shop and upstairs to where, by this time, Maddy had realised there was something badly amiss. Breakfast had been abandoned and they were standing by the bedroom window, from where there was a clear view over the South Bay of the town. Maddy was holding Amy, who was burying her head against her mother’s shoulder.
‘Come away from the window,’ yelled Freddie. ‘The town’s being shelled. For God’s sake, Maddy, come away! I’ve just seen one land, on the Johnson’s shop, I think. And we could be right in the line of fire.’ He put an arm around her, pulling her and Amy away from the window. But not before he had seen for himself what Maddy was gazing at. It was a sight so unbelievable that he could understand why she was rooted to the spot.
Through the early morning mist, which often hung over the bays and the fringes of the town, three large grey battleships were visible, their guns firing shells into the still air. There was an eerie orangey-red glow in the sky, the scene resembling, to Freddie’s eyes, a painting by Turner. Common sense told them they could not linger by the window. They moved to the comparative safety of the living room.
‘We’ll be safer under the table,’ said Freddie, whispering for fear of frightening Amy. ‘If there’s a direct hit we’ll stand more chance there. It’ll give us a bit of protection.’
‘Come along, darling,’ said Maddy to their daughter. ‘We’re going to hide under the table, and then the banging won’t sound so loud. It’ll be over soon…’
‘What is it, Mummy?’ asked the little girl.
‘Oh, some naughty men trying to frighten us,’ replied Maddy. ‘But we’re not going to let them, are we?’ In truth, she had never been so frightened in her life.
They huddled together for comfort until one almighty crash, very near to them, made them aware that their home had been hit.
‘Oh, God help us!’ cried Maddy as they heard the sound of splintering glass and objects falling about in the next room.
‘Mummy…I’m frightened!’ cried Amy, for the very first time.
‘Hush, darling. It’ll go away soon,’ said Maddy, with not very much hope that it would.
They learnt afterwards that the bombardment of their town had lasted for half an hour, but to the little family sheltering beneath the table it seemed much longer. When at last the noise of the shells ceased – as the battleships made their way northwards to Whitby, as they discovered later – they ventured out from their place of sanctuary.
Maddy’s fear that their home had been shelled was realised when they went into the adjoining kitchen. There was a hole in the wall about two feet in diameter where the shell had entered, and the kitchen itself was completely wrecked. It looked as though nothing could be salvaged from amongst the debris of shattered glass and crockery, splintered woodwork and the fragments of pots and pans and utensils scattered far and wide.
‘Oh…what a big mess, Mummy,’ said Amy, an understatement that even caused Maddy to smile a little.
‘Yes, isn’t it?’ she agreed. ‘But we’re all right, aren’t we?’ There was not so much as a scratch or a bruise on any of them, and she realised how fortunate they had been to escape with their lives.
‘We’ve been damned lucky,’ said Freddie in a hushed voice, as he put his arms around his wife and daughter. ‘But I’m afraid some poor devils will have copped it.’
Reaction began to set in then as Maddy felt her limbs start to tremble. ‘Come and sit down, darling,’ said Freddie, ‘and I’ll go and make us all a cup of tea… Oh damn!’ he added as he remembered. ‘The kitchen’s wrecked, but I can go downstairs. Now, will you be all right for a few minutes?’
‘Yes, I will, honestly,’ said Maddy as he eased her gently into an armchair, with Amy still clinging to her. ‘It’s just…such a shock. Why Scarborough, Freddie? Why on earth should they target us? There are no naval bases here, and the harbour’s not big enough for warships. I know we’ve got a castle, but it hasn’t been defended for centuries; it’s just a ruin.’
‘I don’t know, my love,’ said Freddie. ‘Just you sit back and relax and be thankful that we’re all in one piece. I’ll make some tea, and a tot of brandy won’t go amiss either.’
He descended the stairs to the small room, not much more than a cubby-hole, behind the shop, where there was a gas ring and a small cupboard with provisions. Fortunately they were undamaged, and so was Amy’s perambulator, which they kept there.
‘What about your work?’ asked Maddy a few moments later as they sipped the hot reviving brew and Amy drank her cup of milk. ‘You’ll be late today, won’t you?’
Freddie gave a wry grin. ‘So will everyone else. But never mind me; it’s you and Amy I’m concerned about. You can’t stay here.’ He shook his head. ‘I imagine we’ll all have to move out for a while. There may well be structural damage that we don’t know about yet.’
‘I wonder how the others have gone on,’ said Maddy. ‘My father and Aunt Faith, and Patrick and Katy, and Jessie…and everybody…’
‘They’re all a good deal further inland than we are,’ Freddie reminded her.
‘My father’s house isn’t. It’s not much further from the sea than we are.’
‘It depends what the bastards were aiming at… Sorry,’ he added, ‘but it’s enough to make a saint swear. They were probably aiming at the centre of the town and the harbour. No doubt we’ll find out later… Now we’d better decide what we are going to do.’
As Maddy was concerned about her father and the rest of the family they decided that the best plan was to walk up to William’s place of work, which was also the home of Patrick and Katy.
‘I don’t think we can stay here, can we Freddie?’ Maddy asked regretfully. Further investigations revealed that the shop window had been smashed and a good deal of the stock damaged.
‘Oh dear! My poor little shop,’ she cried. ‘It looks as though we’ll be closed for quite a while. And Emily…that means she won’t have a job either. Perhaps we’d better wait until she arrives. She’ll have such a shock when she sees the state of the place.’
‘Emily will survive, the same as the rest of us,’ said Freddie, but not unfeelingly. ‘You know as well as I do that she’s tougher than she looks. And she’s not short of a bob or two either. And nor are we… We’ll get it all put right eventually. At the moment, though…’
‘We’re refugees, aren’t we?’ Maddy half smiled. ‘My father has plenty of room at his house. I’m sure he will insist that we stay there for a while. I’ll pack a bag of essential items, shall I? Then we can collect more of our belongings later.’
They set off with Amy sitting in her perambulator with a couple of bags at her feet. There was a good deal of damage at the bottom end of Eastborough, some properties being almost totally demolished, with gaping holes in the roofs and brickwork and shop windows completely shattered. Already an ambulance was on the scene to cope with some of the injured and, possibly, the dead or dying, but Freddie and Maddy both kept their fears to themselves.
They met Emily further up Eastborough, on her way diligently, as they might have expected, to her place of work. Fortunately her home, where she lived on her own, near to the castle and St Mary’s church, had escaped any damage.
‘I’ve been so worried about you all, though,’ she told them, ‘so near to the harbour. I got down on my knees and said a prayer for you, an
d here you all are, safe and sound!’
They told her about the damage to the shop and persuaded her that the best thing for her to do was to go back home. So she retraced her steps, walking with them to the corner of the road where they turned off to see how the Moon family and their properties had fared.
At a first glance it seemed that the damage was not too bad. Her father’s Renault motor-car parked outside the store told Maddy that her father and Faith had arrived at their place of work. One of the plate-glass windows of Moon’s Modes had shattered and the clothes lay higgledy-piggledy on the floor, and a window at the undertaking premises had also been smashed; but it seemed unlikely that there would be any structural damage.
‘Thank God you’re safe,’ cried Faith, putting her arms around Maddy before lifting her little granddaughter from her pram.
‘I’m afraid we’ve been quite badly hit,’ Maddy told them, as her father appeared from the workshop, hugging her with unashamed tears in his eyes. ‘The kitchen and the shop frontage have gone, and Freddie thinks there might be other damage as well; it’s a very old property.’
‘Well, that’s not really important, so long as you are all right, all of you. You’ll come and stay with us for a while, won’t you?’
‘I’m afraid we rather took that for granted, Father,’ said Maddy. ‘We are orphans of the storm, aren’t we?’ she added, smiling a little. ‘But we know we’ve been very lucky.’
‘We would really be most grateful, William,’ said Freddie. ‘As Maddy said, we were rather presumptuous. I trust your property has escaped any damage?’
‘Aye, we were that bit further away from the main onslaught,’ said William. ‘But we heard it all, sure enough. Good God! I thought the end of the world had come! And that must be only a fraction of what our poor lads are going through over in France.’
‘I suspect we’ll be pretty busy for the next week or so, Father,’ said Patrick. He and Katy had now arrived on the scene. ‘There’s sure to have been some fatalities.’
Until We Meet Again Page 6