The war was the only cloud on Amy’s horizon, but as the months went by without much happening, she began to relax. Some women in the WVS were saying that it would be over by Christmas, but when she had told Ted that, he’d just shaken his head, saying that was what everyone thought in the last war. As gently as possible he had urged her not to pin her hopes on that.
On 10 May, Winston Churchill replaced Neville Chamberlain as Prime Minister, and Germany invaded France. The phoney war was over.
The next couple of weeks were a worrying time as the Germans moved further and further into France, and Amy prayed that Ben and Howard were safe.
John was home on 26 May, and it was late in the afternoon when an ambulance screeched to a halt outside the house, and Harry Tenant, the doctor who had been their best man, ran in.
‘All hell’s been let loose, John. We’re needed.’
‘What’s up? What’s happened?’ Amy called, but John had jumped aboard the ambulance and roared up the road without stopping for an explanation.
Mrs Dalton joined Amy on the step. ‘They’re in a hurry.’
Pursing her lips, heart thumping, Amy said nothing. She hadn’t liked that air of extreme emergency.
While they were still standing there in stunned silence, Mrs Porter arrived in the van, rather out of breath. ‘Just grab your hats and badges. We’re needed.’
Amy and Mrs Dalton collided as they both tried to get through the door at the same time, but it only took them a few minutes to join Mrs Porter. They had known the WVS would go wherever help was needed, but the war had been almost unreal until this moment. It was terrifying.
‘Where are we going? And what the hell’s happened?’ Mrs Dalton straightened her hat, which had been knocked askew in their haste.
‘We’re needed at Dover!’
‘Dover!’ Amy and Mrs Dalton spoke together, looking at each other in alarm.
‘Just got word. Our army is trapped on the beaches at Dunkirk and they’re trying to bring them home by boat. It’s a dreadful mess evidently.’
‘Oh dear God!’ Amy felt sick. Ben and Howard were over there.
‘They need all the help they can get to deal with the troops as they come ashore, and we’ve been asked to do what we can. Our main task will be to supply them with a hot drink and sandwiches.’
‘That’s where John’s gone then.’ Mrs Dalton squeezed Amy’s hand. ‘There’ll be wounded on those ships.’
Amy nodded. She was beyond speech.
The scene that greeted them at Dover was something Amy would remember for the rest of her life. It was chaos, but organized chaos as the ships docked and the weary, battered men came ashore. The majority managed under their own steam; others were helped by friends, and more arrived on stretchers.
Even Mrs Porter seemed stunned into inactivity for a moment. ‘Oh dear Lord…’
‘Come on, ladies.’ A soldier with sergeant’s stripes on his sleeve marched up to them. ‘These poor buggers need tea and something to eat. You’ll find everything you need over there.’ He pointed to three army lorries. ‘And if some of them look like civilians, they are. They’re taking any small boat across. If it floats it’s going over to France.’
Mrs Dalton was the first to recover. ‘Let’s get on with it. Has everyone got cigarettes, because they’re going to need them?’
Mrs Porter took several packets out of the van and handed them out together with boxes of matches.
Amy grabbed mugs of hot tea and sandwiches, moving among the men coming off a ship that had just docked with a gaping hole in its side and listing badly.
‘Thanks, ducky.’ A grime-smeared soldier of indistinguishable rank took a mug from her, gulped down the tea and grinned, his teeth appearing very white against his blackened face. ‘You haven’t got a fag, have you?’
She held out the packet and he took one, cupping his hands around the match she had struck. His hands were steadier than hers, she thought wryly.
After taking a long draw, he tipped his head back, blew out the smoke and sighed. ‘Thanks, pet, you’re an angel.’
‘How… how bad is it over there?’
‘Bloody awful.’ He gave her a studied look. ‘Got someone over there, have you?’
She nodded, her mouth in a tight line of worry.
‘Well, they’re doing their best to get everyone home, but there are thousands on those beaches and it’s going to take time. The bastards are trying to sink the ships as they come in.’
That wasn’t at all comforting, but she thanked him and carried on giving help where she could. She searched faces, constantly looking for Ben and Howard. And she worried all the time about where John might be, hoping with all her heart that he hadn’t gone across to help on the beaches. That was just the kind of thing he would do.
After six hours she was nearly dropping with exhaustion. It was dark now, but the ships were still coming in loaded with troops. As she looked around, her eyes gritty with fatigue, she couldn’t help wondering if this country was beaten? Had they lost the war?
Mrs Porter found her. ‘Ah, there you are. Take a break. We’re going to be here until dawn, and possibly longer than that. See that building over there?’
Amy’s gaze followed where she was pointing.
‘They’ve taken a lot of the wounded there before moving them to various hospitals, but there are a couple of rooms where we can rest.’
‘Thanks.’ Amy walked towards the building where there were army and civilian ambulances lined up, feeling numb, and her head ringing from the constant noise and bustle. A ship sounded its horn, making her jump, but she knew it meant one was on its way back to France. She couldn’t rest, there was too much to do. Perhaps she could help with the wounded? She did know some First Aid, and a lot of the men just seemed to need someone to smile at them.
She had thought that it would be like a hospital in here, quiet and controlled, but it wasn’t. There were men everywhere, some only needing dressings changed and others in a more serious state. She could see the doctors working to sort out those who needed immediate despatch to hospital from those who could wait a bit longer.
And then she saw John. Her relief was enormous. He was here! Making her way over to him, she waited until he had finished putting stitches in a nasty head wound, then she touched his arm gently. ‘John.’
He turned. It seemed to take a moment before it registered that she was really standing beside him. ‘Amy, how long have you been here?’
‘Some hours; I’ve lost track of time. I’m here with Mrs Dalton and the WVS. Is there anything I can do to help you?’ She wanted to stay as near to him as possible.
His expression was grim as he turned and called an army nurse over. ‘This is my wife and she’s been trained in First Aid, so could you find her something to do?’
‘Yes, doctor, I would be grateful for help with dressings.’
‘Good.’ John didn’t have time to say anything else as another ship had docked. It had been attacked on its way back from France and had quite a few badly injured men on board.
For three days, Amy and Mrs Dalton worked, helping in any way they could, with only snatched moments of sleep now and again. They were dirty, exhausted and worried sick about the boys. It was only when John sought them out and demanded they go home and rest that Amy realized it was impossible to go on any longer. Mrs Porter took them home, ordering that they both rest and be ready to go back in two days’ time, if they were still needed.
Once clean and with a good meal inside her, Amy slept for twelve hours without waking up. When she surfaced, Mrs Dalton told her they were still bringing home the troops, so they decided to go back immediately.
It was on the sixth day of the evacuation that Amy saw a familiar figure.
‘Mrs Dalton!’ She ran over and dragged her towards the men coming ashore. ‘I saw Howard. I’m sure it was him!’
But they searched the faces in vain.
‘You must have been mistaken, Amy. It’s almo
st impossible to recognize anyone amongst this crowd.’
She hadn’t been wrong. She couldn’t have been.
‘You’re right. There he is.’ Mrs Dalton grabbed her arm and they fought their way over to the dishevelled and weary soldier.
‘Howard!’ Amy had tears running down her cheeks as she rushed towards him.
After only a moment’s hesitation, he held out his arms, and she ran into them, crying with relief. He was filthy, smelt something awful, but he was the most wonderful sight in the world to her.
‘Blimey, mate!’ one soldier shouted. ‘Wish I had a welcome like that.’
Mrs Dalton kissed him on the cheek, also overcome with relief.
‘Where’s Ben?’ Amy looked up at his haggard face, and knew in that instant that the news was not good. ‘Tell me, please. Tell me he’s all right.’
‘I don’t know, Amy. He was one of those guarding our escape. They’ll be the last to leave.’
‘But he’s still alive?’ Mrs Dalton had gone very pale.
‘I don’t know,’ was all he said, bowing his head. ‘He doesn’t stand much of a chance.’
Amy was sure her heart had just been torn to shreds.
‘Howard!’ John pushed his way through the mass of men. ‘Are you hurt?’
‘Don’t think so. A few cuts and bruises, that’s all.’
‘I’ll take care of him, doctor, and see he gets back to his unit.’ An army nurse working with John had followed him.
‘Thank you, nurse.’
Amy watched Howard walk away, the nurse with her hand on his arm, and she began to shake. ‘Ben…’
John held her around the waist and caught a WVS woman as she walked past. ‘I want my wife taken home. Please see to it.’
Amy had become oblivious to her surroundings. He couldn’t be dead! She wouldn’t believe it. Howard didn’t know for sure. He would survive and be picked up with the last group. He would. He would.
Mrs Porter bustled up. ‘I’ve been told you’re looking for me, doctor.’
‘My wife’s received some bad news. Would you see that she gets home, please? I’ll come as soon as I can.’ John tipped her head up with his fingers to make her look at him. ‘You must rest, darling. I’ll do what I can to find out where Ben is, but it’s going to take time. Men are scattered all over the place and he might already have made it back. They aren’t only coming ashore here, there are small boats landing further along the coast.’
‘Are there?’ Hope sprang to life in her again, and she nodded. ‘He’ll turn up somewhere.’
‘Of course he will.’ John smiled gently. ‘Now go home. You’ve done all you can here.’
She clung to his arm. ‘You come home soon as well. You’re exhausted.’
‘I’ll be back tonight, I promise. And don’t give up hope.’
‘I won’t.’ Amy kissed him, and then allowed Mrs Porter and Mrs Dalton to lead her away from the chaos, but after only a few steps, she turned back to John. ‘Where are they taking Howard? Can’t he come home with us?’
‘No, darling, the army have everything organized, and he’ll be taken good care of.’
She nodded, dry-eyed with shock and worry for her two boys. They were such an important part of her life. Howard would be devastated if Ben didn’t come back, and she couldn’t imagine life without his teasing presence. Squaring her shoulders, she walked calmly through the crowds. They were very close: she would know if he had been killed – and he hadn’t. She would not accept that unless there was irrefutable proof!
Watching intently as Amy walked away, John sighed with relief when he saw her head come up, her step sure. He knew she had courage and had faced terrible things in her past, but he hadn’t known how she would take this blow. She adored both the boys, which was understandable, after what they had done for her, but the bond between her and Ben was something special. It had concerned him when he had first met them, but he had soon discovered that what they shared was not a physical love, more a meeting of minds. This disaster was going to hit her hard, but that lifting of her head showed him she was going to handle this with her usual fortitude. She might only be small, but that petite form held a strong person.
Still, he’d make sure he got home tonight. He was due a break after working almost non-stop for five days – or was it four? After casting a glance around, he shrugged. What did time matter? The only important thing was that the troops were being brought home. And what then? The Germans were now only just across the Channel, and if Hitler didn’t invade at once then he was a fool. Britain was now on its own.
He watched, deep in troubled thought, as he saw a sergeant major gathering together the uninjured. He saw the lines snap to attention on command, then march smartly away. If it hadn’t been for their dishevelled appearance and lack of weapons, you would never have guessed that they had spent days on the beach, being bombed as they tried to get on the ships coming in for them. From what some of the men had told him, it had been nothing short of hell on earth. And must still be for the poor devils over there – including Ben.
‘Stay safe,’ he murmured as he went back to work.
A faint sound of marching feet and singing reached his ears, making him nod grimly. All right, we’re in a bloody mess, but the Germans will still have a fight on their hands if they try to invade. Time would be needed to recover from this disaster, but would the country get it?
It was nearly midnight when John finally arrived back in Chelsea, and Mrs Dalton met him as he came in the door.
‘Is Amy all right?’
‘Yes she is, and fast asleep at the moment.’ She patted his arm. ‘Why don’t you have a bath and get some rest as well? You look exhausted, John. The water’s hot.’
‘Thanks, you’re an angel.’ He grimaced. ‘They’re still bringing them back. God knows how long it’s going to take.’
‘What’s going to happen to us now? Can we survive a crushing defeat like this?’
‘We’ve got to.’ He ran a hand through his untidy hair. ‘The alternative is unthinkable. But we must accept that the war is now coming to us, and we are going to have a tough fight on our hands.’
‘No doubt.’ Mrs Dalton’s smile was wry. ‘But we can be a stubborn race when our backs are to the wall, and not easy to beat when we get mad. And this Dunkirk business is going to make us mad. Hitler has still got to cross that strip of water and he won’t stand a chance. We’ll blow him out of the water. Now, you go and have your bath.’
John laughed at the determined glint in her eyes, but he wondered what they were going to use, as most of the armaments had been left behind in France.
After he ran the bath, he found he was so tired he hardly had the strength to remove his clothes. Many people would be hoping that the Channel would prove a difficult obstacle for the Germans, and it would, but Britain was now within easy reach of their bombers. He must try to persuade Amy to go and stay with his parents.
Feeling almost human again after scrubbing himself clean, he went to their room and stood beside the bed, drinking in the sight of his sleeping wife. She was curled up like a kitten and hugging his pillow. After gently prising it away from her, he slipped into bed and pulled her towards him, his tiredness disappearing. Without waking properly, she wrapped her arms around him and sighed.
He kissed her gently and she stirred. ‘John.’
‘Shush, go back to sleep. I didn’t mean to wake you.’
‘I’m glad you’re home at last.’
‘Me too.’ He couldn’t resist making love to her then. She was so warm and responsive in his arms. Their loving was slow, gentle, giving and receiving comfort.
*
The next morning, after John had gone to the hospital, Amy went to visit Ben’s parents.
‘Oh, Amy, we’re so pleased to see you.’ Mrs Scott clasped her hands tightly. ‘Do you know what’s going on? I expect John has been busy with the wounded. Has he been able to tell you anything?’
Both of Ben’s pare
nts had deep circles under their eyes; they had obviously not slept properly for some days.
‘We can’t find out a damned thing!’ Mr Scott’s voice was husky with worry.
‘That’s why I’ve come to see you.’ She sat down, tense, knowing that what she had to say would bring little comfort, but at least it might give them hope. ‘I’ve been with the WVS helping at Dover. They are bringing the men home by the thousand. Howard is safe, we saw him—’
‘Oh, thank God!’ Both spoke at the same time, and then waited anxiously for her to continue.
‘He said Ben was still at Dunkirk with the rearguard trying to protect the evacuation, and would be amongst the last to leave.’
‘He’s still alive then.’ Mrs Scott’s hands were shaking.
‘Yes, as far as we know.’
‘Tell us what it’s like when the ships arrive.’ There was a little more colour in Mr Scott’s face now.
For the next hour she talked, explaining about the ships, big and small, and the help that was there to greet the returning men.
As she drove back to Chelsea she hoped her visit had been of some help, but no amount of optimistic talk could hide the fact that Ben was in grave danger.
All they could do now was wait.
28
The first week in June and Dunkirk fell. The manner of the evacuation was being hailed as a marvel, but Amy felt only a crushing sadness. There was no sign of Ben. He hadn’t made it back, and France was now under German control.
She was clearing up the breakfast things when she heard a noise above her. Someone was moving around in Ben’s studio. She knew it couldn’t be Mrs Dalton or Ted because they were both out. Had Ben come back and they hadn’t known? She ran upstairs, her heart in her mouth. The door was closed, so she opened it carefully. There was someone there in army uniform, standing utterly still, gazing at an unfinished painting. He wasn’t quite tall enough to be Ben.
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