by Shirley Mann
Raoul took over.
‘We are unable to tell you too much but you need to know your daughter was very wonderful in Elizé’s rescue, in fact, she was incroyable, and although we may not say more, you should be very proud of her.’
Agnes and Andrew exchanged glances. They had no idea that Bobby had done anything of the kind. Both their minds raced with possible scenarios but, well-schooled in war-time secrecy, they had no choice but to draw their attention back to the present, leaving a plethora of questions unanswered.
Andrew found himself feeling ashamed of never having noticed before what a strong young woman his daughter was. He was going back over the details of her last visit and started to realise there were gaping holes in her story. He suspected she had an impressive tale to tell, that somehow involved the Bisset family. It occurred to him that, however implausible it would sound, she might, somehow, have gone to France and met the large man in front of him and for the first time ever, he experienced a fierce pride in her and then realised with a jolt that she was, in fact, just as good as any son. He just needed to tell her, he thought.
Raoul was chattering happily when he suddenly mentioned Nicole’s name. It was the moment Andrew had been dreading and he stiffened.
‘So, because of Nicole, we have so much in common, you and I.’ Raoul announced to Andrew. ‘We share the same love for Michel and,’ he gave a wickedly conspiratorial wink to Andrew, ‘we have both loved and now I will love all your family, who feel like my family already.’
At that moment, the back door slammed and Elizé flew into the room and flung down her school satchel to race over to Raoul, whooping with delight.
‘Now it is perfect. Well it would be,’ her face clouded, ‘if only Maman – and Papa – were here.’ Her little face threatened to crumple but then Raoul lifted her high above his head and he tickled her. She giggled and their laughter resounded throughout the room. Michel went over and grabbed her in a huge hug as soon as his father put her down.
For a moment, Andrew Hollis looked at this huge Frenchman with envy. He wondered how Nicole could ever have forgotten the larger-than-life Raoul enough to fall in love with him. He felt like a pale shadow next to Raoul and was unnerved by his unsolicited connection with this extraordinary French family. He was still not sure how to deal with the bizarre situation and in the meantime, he had to learn to face Raoul at breakfast every morning.
In addition, there was his sister-in-law’s wedding to his trusted friend and foreman to prepare for.
Chapter 42
It was the autumn of 1944 and Edward poured himself a whisky from the oak cabinet in his office. He felt sick. The report in front of him had made for harrowing reading and while his first reaction was one of incredulity, he knew that the source who had compiled it was a calm, measured man who could be relied on to tell the truth.
Mavis knocked on the door to tell him she was leaving for the day. She had her coat and hat on and her handbag on her arm, but she stopped short when she saw Edward’s anguished face. ‘Are you all right, sir?’
He took a moment to register she was there and then looked up. His face was grey.
She put down her handbag and went over to sit on the hard-backed chair in front of the desk. She reached out her hand to cover his, which was stone cold.
‘Oh sir, whatever is the matter? Can you tell me?’
‘It will be in the papers tomorrow so yes, I suppose I can, but first you may need to join me in a whisky.’
Mavis Arbuckle would normally only drink a small sherry before her luncheon on Sundays but as Edward passed over the document to her, she read: ‘French Resistance Report on Release of Drancy Concentration Camp – Atrocities, Deaths and Survivors.’ She nodded and held out her hand to receive the crystal glass.
The two sat in silence for a while as she scanned the first few pages. Edward watched her face drain of all blood and reached over to take the document back.
‘Don’t read any more, Mavis, it’s unimaginably horrendous. Those poor people . . .’
Her reply was faint. ‘I read about these camps but I never really thought the reports were true.’
‘I wish they weren’t, Mavis, I wish they weren’t.’
He took a gulp of his whisky and went on, ‘There may be some good news though. They have liberated some survivors but we’ll have to wait and see. Heaven knows what state they’ll be in.’
They sat in silence, both thinking of the people who had met their fate at Drancy. Mavis offered up a prayer for them all. Edward was thinking more on a practical level of how he could help anyone left alive.
When the telephone rang, they both jumped. Mavis reached over to pick it up.
‘Edward Turner’s office, how may I help you?’ She passed the receiver over to Edward.
He listened for a moment and then his face cleared and he smiled. ‘Of course, I’d love to be there. Thank you so much, goodbye.
‘That’s just what I needed,’ he told Mavis. ‘I’ve been invited to a wedding.’ He chinked his glass against hers and they both took a sip.
*
Bobby, fully recovered and back at work, was flying a Tempest from Aston Down to Redhill. She knew the route but had to concentrate on the mist that was threatening to descend rather than think about all the arrangements that had to be made at home for Saturday. Fortunately, it was the end of her roster this weekend and she had two days’ leave, which meant she could get home in time for the wedding. She had received a letter from her mother, which had told her all about how Michel and Raoul were conspiring to add a French tradition to the day but were delighting in keeping it all a secret. Another had arrived this morning letting her know that her father had invited Edward Turner.
Bobby had been astonished at how that news had turned her stomach upside down. She had not seen Edward since their weekend in London and although his letters had been regular and very chatty, showing a drop in his guard, the prospect of seeing him in person again had thrown her into an uncharacteristic confusion and she did not need her father putting pressure on them both.
She landed the Tempest and sat for a moment gathering her thoughts before climbing down onto the tarmac to sign in. There had been a strange feeling of loss since she had seen Gus at the hospital and especially when she read the glowing, excited letters from Harriet about his progress. She had felt quite distant from him, as if he were a character in a dream she had once had.
Edward was another matter.
‘Hey, Bobby!’
Audrey appeared from the other side of the airfield. The two girls had not met since they had been on the training course together for the heavy bombers.
‘Audrey! How lovely to see you. How’s Cosford?’
‘Full of women!’ she laughed, ‘but, Bobby, wait till I tell you. I’ve got such exciting news. Have you got time for a cuppa?’
Bobby checked her schedule. She needed to call in at the Met Office but said she would meet Audrey in the NAAFI. The forecast that morning had suggested the weather was set to improve if she delayed her next flight slightly so once she had verified that fact, she picked up her maps to take a Fairchild to Hawarden, then an Anson back to Hamble, thus gaining half an hour before she had to do her pre-flight checks.
She found Audrey holding two cups of tea and two biscuits.
‘I decided we deserved these,’ Audrey said. ‘But we’ll have to talk fast because I only have an hour.’
‘I have less than that, so spill the beans. What is it you have to tell me?’
Audrey leaned forward to whisper. ‘You remember Freddie, the guy that you handed on to me at White Waltham? Well, we’re going to be married!’ She sat back in triumph to wait for Bobby’s reaction.
‘Married! That’s amazing,’ Bobby exclaimed, remembering the good-looking engineer who had caught her as she fell out of the Wellington during training.
‘He was a good catch,’ she joked.
‘Oh, Bobby, he’s gorgeous. After that first date,
it just got better and better and he writes to me every day. We’re just waiting for this stupid war to finish and then we’re getting hitched. But what happened with you and that . . . what was he called . . . Edward? The one you dropped my lovely Freddie for.’
Bobby felt the sudden need to offload all her thoughts to someone who was not involved with her complicated life and she explained quickly and vaguely about Gus, and then about Harriet and finally Edward, hesitating as she got to his name.
‘Hmm, sounds like you’ve got yourself in a bit of a pickle,’ Audrey said. ‘So how do you feel about Gus now?’
‘Oh, I don’t know, he’s great. Attractive, lively company but, now my friend Harriet has decided she’s completely head over heels about him that’s taken any choice out of it. He didn’t ever really want me, I think I was just a distraction from . . . whatever it is he does. And to be honest, I’ve never connected with him on the same level as I do with . . .’ she tailed off.
‘So tell me about Edward then,’ Audrey said, nibbling her biscuit.
Bobby took a deep breath. ‘He’s a bit of a conundrum. I feel there’s such a deep man there but I can never quite grasp it. I thought he was shy and awkward when I first met him, but he isn’t.’
She thought back to walking along the Mall with him in London when he tucked her arm through his, and then she remembered the way everyone in the War Rooms stood back in respect to let him pass. Finally, she remembered his kiss and unconsciously touched her lips.
Audrey took a sip of her tea. ‘This war is making actors of all of us. I mean, I was a teacher in a primary school. Who would ever have thought I’d be flying aircraft all over the country? Do you fancy him?’
Bobby was taken aback. She had never thought about it. The physical attraction between her and Gus had been really strong but with Edward, she had been so busy trying to work him out, she had never thought about whether she was attracted to him.
‘There may be something between us,’ she admitted, realising that he had been constantly in her thoughts since London and that her stomach had tied in a knot just thinking about him. ‘But I don’t feel I know him and now he’s been invited to my aunt’s wedding this weekend and I know my father will be putting pressure on us both. He wants me sorted and settled by the time the war is over so I can go back to the farm with a man to take over and look after things. But I don’t want that sort of relationship.’
Audrey looked intently at her, then nodded. ‘I know, things have really changed over the past few years for us women, especially us in the ATA. We’ve done something no one thought we could and we’ve done it well. I agree with you, I know I’ll find it hard to go back to being the little woman at home again. Maybe I should warn Freddie – or maybe not,’ she burst out laughing. ‘Perhaps I’ll leave that until I’ve got him down the aisle!’
Bobby had a great deal to think about but by the time she had started up the Fairchild, the wind had picked up and in her usual professional manner, she put every other thought out of her mind while she piloted the aircraft up into the sky towards Hawarden.
Edward Turner would have to wait.
Chapter 43
Agnes Clarke had taken a few moments on the day before her wedding to go into the woods. She placed the rosehips amongst the burnished leaves and went over to lean on the tree next to where she had buried the charred remains of the telegram announcing Peter Martin’s death. She closed her eyes for a moment but then heard footsteps crunching through the undergrowth. She opened them to see Archie standing in front of her, his eyes soft with love.
‘Eh lass, you needn’t fuss, I’m just here if you need me.’
She moved forward to be clasped in his arms and they strengthened around her.
‘You’ve always known about this place, haven’t you?’ she said in a muffled voice from his shoulder.
‘Yes, I have and it’s all right. You can still visit if you need to. I’ll not interfere.’
She looked up and then all around her. ‘No,’ she said in a decided manner. ‘No, I don’t need to. I’ll dig up the spring bulbs I’ve planted here and put them in our garden; there’s only the cinders of that stupid telegram here. I’d rather remember Peter from a chair in my own garden full of blooms.’ And with that, the couple walked slowly back towards the farm, Archie’s arm around Agnes’s shoulder.
*
The following day dawned bright, but cold, even for October. Mrs Hill and Rachel had been up till the early hours of the morning, preparing the limited wedding breakfast. They were struggling to feed so many mouths but delighted villagers had kept popping round with an odd cake or a plate of biscuits to add to the limited rations for such a special occasion. Mrs Hill stood back to check the table. She tutted, but was actually quite pleased with what they had managed to achieve. No one would be able to say that the Hollis family were not able to put on a good wedding breakfast.
Agnes and Mathilda were alone in the bedroom and Mathilda was fussing round her sister, trying to put some saved rose petals in her hair.
‘Do stop fussing, Mathilda,’ Agnes said, pulling away. ‘I’m a woman in her fifties, not a blushing young bride.’
‘Well, you look like one today,’ Mathilda said, beaming happily. The family had been through so much and now, here was her sister, finally finding some happiness. It was more than she could ever have hoped for.
Elizé burst through the door. She had a new dress on, made from fabric unearthed from the attic. Rachel had stitched it with love and care, completely captivated by this little girl who thanked God so fervently every Sabbath for bringing her to Salhouse Farm, always adding an extra prayer for her beloved mama and papa.
‘I’m the bridesmaid, I’m the bridesmaid,’ she said, twirling with delight.
The two women took a hand each and danced with her around the room. It was a moment of pure joy for all three of them.
Downstairs, a door slammed and Bobby called up the stairs. ‘Anyone home?’
They all raced to the landing to look down towards Bobby and then her mother tutted in horror.
‘There’s only an hour before the wedding, you’ll have to get a move on. You look a sight and you can’t go to church wearing those boots.’
‘OK, mother, just give me a moment, father insisted he wanted to see me.’ Bobby said, ignoring her mother’s relentless attempts to make her into a lady.
She had a moment’s trepidation standing outside her father’s study. What hair-brained scheme does he have in mind now? She firmly knocked on the study door and went in to find her father gazing out of the window.
‘You look very smart, Father,’ she said, noting his best suit and the piece of heather in his buttonhole.
‘Well, I’d like to say the same about you,’ he smiled, ‘but you do look a bit windswept.’
‘Just come in on a Tiger Moth, I managed to get a landing at Coltishall,‘ she replied, adding with a tentative smile, ‘Admit it, I look like the wreck of the Hesperus.’
‘Well, yes, now you mention it . . . Roberta, I need to say something.’
Bobby’s heart sank. Whenever he called her Roberta, it was serious.
‘I want to talk to you about Edward Turner.’
Then Bobby’s heart stopped for a moment. She did not need this. She was having enough trouble working out how she felt without her father interfering.
He went on.
‘I made a mistake.’
She looked up in surprise.
‘I had no right to try to force you into a marriage with him. It has to be your choice. I shouldn’t have thought I could manipulate you.’
He looked intently at her, as if seeing her for the first time.
‘After all, you are my daughter and that brings with it a stubbornness that I, of all people, can’t criticise.’
Bobby went to move forward but he put his hand up to stop her.
‘I haven’t finished,’ he said. ‘I haven’t been a good father to you, no, I’m
not denying it. You’ve deserved better.’ He was thinking of Raoul but then shook himself to get back to the subject.
‘But, I do take credit for the fact that you are standing in front of me today, an ATA pilot, a woman who, I suspect, has done some amazing things. I am intensely proud.’
Bobby could not speak; she was so overwhelmed.
Her father moved forward as if to hug her but then stopped and put his hand on her shoulder instead. He gave it a squeeze.
‘There’s something else,’ he went on. ‘I’ve been talking to the people at Coltishall. When this war is over, they’ve offered you a job as a pilot trainer at the airfield. Nothing definite at the moment, but they’re very impressed with your flying and, of course, you’ll be able to help out with the running of the farm as well. Yes, well that’s all,’ he finished, exhausted with his emotional outburst.
He brushed past her and went out of the room, leaving her stunned and alone.
At that moment, Edward Turner arrived and was shown into the study by Rachel. He found Bobby looking shocked and tearful and immediately moved towards her.
He so wanted to take her in his arms but she waved both hands in front of her and fled from the room. An emotional encounter with Edward would be just a step too far.
Later that morning, a group of schoolgirls were gathered outside the farm’s front porch. Each one was clutching a white ribbon that they were twirling excitedly up in the air but once Agnes, dressed in a pretty, dusky pink dress, appeared in the doorway on Andrew’s arm, they all lined up to stretch the ribbons across the pathway.
Raoul was grinning from ear to ear. He handed a pair of scissors to Agnes as Michel struck up a lively French tune on a violin from his position in front of the children.
‘You see, Miss Clarke, you must cut through these ribbons. That will be how you cut through any obstacles and then, et voilà, you will have the perfect marriage! It is something we French like to do. It is a good custom, no?’
With a flourish, he waved Agnes and the family through, winking at Bobby, and Michel played joyously all the way to the church where Archie awaited his bride, nervously twiddling with his Sunday tie.