by Katie Flynn
Lily turned to the man who had lifted Eve down. ‘Thank you very much. Now we’d best fight our way through this crowd and make our way home as soon as possible.’ She turned to Eve. ‘How you’ve grown, my love. I was looking for a little skinny waif and almost missed the young lady in the old school mac.’ She gave Eve another reassuring hug. ‘Come along; if we step out we can be home in fifteen or twenty minutes.’
Eve had got off the train still more or less in a daze. Lily insisted on carrying her haversack, but even without the weight of it on her shoulders she had difficulty in walking the short distance from the station to the Close. In fact, had it not been for the enlivening effect of the night wind she was sure she would have fallen asleep on her feet long before they got there. As they walked Lily kept up a constant stream of chat, probably guessing that Eve was feeling shy about meeting her parents, but in fact the first thing that struck Eve when she was ushered into the Kendal kitchen was an elusive likeness to the kitchen at Drake’s Farm. It was not as big and a good deal more modern, but there was something about it which Eve recognised as being from the same mould as Auntie Bess’s domain.
As soon as Eve entered the room the woman standing at the kitchen table slicing a loaf looked up, put down her bread knife and came over to give her a spontaneous hug. She was tall and blonde, her hair lightly streaked with grey, and the blue eyes which rested on Eve’s tired face were kind and very like Lily’s.
‘Welcome to our home, little Eve,’ she said, smiling. ‘I’m sure you’ve already guessed that I’m Lily’s mother because people are always telling us we’re very alike. Take off your jacket and make yourself at home. You must be worn to the bone and wanting nothing more than your bed, but I’ve made a thick vegetable soup which you shall sit down and enjoy before I’ll let you so much as climb the stairs.’
Eve beamed at her hostess. She looked around the pleasant kitchen; the dresser twinkled with china, strings of onions hung close to the fire in the stove, the big kitchen table bore a blue bowl of apples and a glass bowl of pears, and there was enough homely clutter to convince Eve that she was going to be comfortable here. She dug her spoon into the soup and took a mouthful; it was thick, as promised, and very good.
‘Thank you,’ she said shyly. ‘I am very tired, but this soup is so delicious that I’d like to finish every drop. Only I’m rather afraid I shall fall asleep and my head will flop straight into my plate.’
Mrs Kendal laughed. ‘As soon as you’ve finished your soup Lily will take you up to her room, which you are to share whilst you’re with us. Don’t worry about oversleeping tomorrow; it will do you good. I have to go out in the morning so if I’ve left by the time you come downstairs you must simply help yourself to anything you fancy. Lily tells me that kind Mrs Faversham has taught you all to make porridge so you can start off with a big bowl of that and fill up the chinks with my homemade bread. Later on either Lily or I will show you round and introduce you to my husband when he comes in.’ She smiled as she watched Eve use a piece of bread to mop up the last of her soup. ‘I do hope you enjoyed that; it certainly looks as if you did. And now off with you, girls, and get your beauty sleep. If I don’t see you in the morning, Eve, I’ll be around later, and if you come across a young man in the uniform of an American flyer that will be Hank. He’s a nice guy – dear me, I’m already speaking his language – and he came to us – oh, it must be getting on for two years ago now – when he’d hurt his leg pretty badly in some sort of accident at his airfield and couldn’t fly for a while. He’s quite fit again now, of course, but his plane – only he calls it a ship – was shot down a few weeks ago, and apparently he’s grounded until they can find him another one. He’s around the place quite a lot, so I thought I should tell you in case he came in tomorrow when you were here on your own.’ She crossed the room with a swift light step and smoothed a hand down Eve’s cheek. ‘Poor little Eve,’ she said kindly. ‘Here am I, gabbling away and keeping you from the rest you’re obviously in need of. Night night, girls; sweet dreams!’
On that first morning Eve slept deeply, not even waking when Lily crept out of the room. She left a note for Eve explaining that she was on early milking at Parker’s Place but that was all, so it was quite a surprise to Eve when she went downstairs to find a tall young man whistling a popular tune below his breath and stirring porridge in a large pot.
‘Oh!’ Eve said, taken aback. She had a vague recollection that Mrs Kendal had mentioned a member of the American air force, but she had not realised that she would meet him quite so soon and so unexpectedly. He was obviously amused by her surprise, and gave her an infectious grin.
‘You’ll be Eve Armstrong, late of Drake’s Farm, and I’m Hank Ruskin, an American flyer, as you can see.’ He tipped porridge into two blue bowls and pulled out a chair, indicating that she should sit down, then took the place opposite her. ‘What’ll we do today?’ he said cheerfully. ‘Lily thinks you might like a quick tour of the house and garden. Then we could walk into the city and have a snack lunch somewhere before going up to the castle to take a look around. You’ll get a magnificent view from there, I promise; I was very impressed when Lily insisted on dragging me up so she could point out various landmarks. What do you say? Does that appeal to you?’ He grinned again. ‘Or have I made it sound like a lecture?’
‘No, no, it sounds grand,’ Eve said hastily. ‘And this porridge is grand, too.’ She cleared her throat. ‘I know you’re in the air force, but are you in the cookhouse? Is that where you learned how to make porridge? Oh, and do I call you sir, or aircraftman, or what?’
‘Call me Hank,’ the young man said equably. ‘We don’t stand on ceremony, us Yanks. But actually I’m a Liberator skipper waiting to be assigned to a new ship, so until that happens I’m at your service, ma’am. And as for the porridge, my mother taught me to make it when I was just a kid.’
Eve had thought she was tired after the journey but she found Hank’s company invigorating, for it seemed as if he must know as much about Norwich as Mrs Kendal herself. First of all they went round the large garden admiring the neat rows of vegetables, then they toured the house, which was large and warm; Eve took to it at once. After that they went into the city and found an extraordinary little old street – Elm Hill – where a pavement café provided them with baked potatoes and thinly sliced corned beef. Eve would have sworn that after the porridge she needed nothing more, but somehow she managed to devour the food, and as they left the little café Hank turned to her, giving her his rabbity grin.
‘Not worn out yet?’ he enquired jovially. ‘Have you still got the energy to climb the castle mound? It’s real steep, so if you’re tired we could do the cathedral next and leave the castle for another day. How do you feel, Eve? Can you make it to the top?’
Eve tilted her head back and looked up and up until her eyes rested on the castle which must, she thought, overlook the entire city. ‘I’m game to have a go,’ she said boldly. ‘Remember, I’ve been working on a farm for years now and farmers don’t exactly encourage their people to give up just because the ground’s a bit steep. And the view from the top must be incredible.’
Hank smiled and gave her shoulder a reassuring pat. ‘You’re a gal after my own heart,’ he said. ‘And the path doesn’t go straight up; that really would be a bit much. Instead, it meanders so that when you reach the top you shouldn’t be gasping for breath. And as you say, even if you were the view would be worth it.’
Eve was very impressed by the castle and enjoyed her visit, though from the top of the keep she was sad to see how much of the city had been destroyed by the Luftwaffe. Hank had not yet arrived in England when the worst of the raids took place, but he had heard about those terrible days from the Kendals.
‘The market used to be four times the size it is now,’ he told Eve, ‘partly because the blackout means that in winter the stalls have to open late and close early, and also because the shops simply don’t have all that much to sell.’ He pointed to a l
arge hole below them. ‘That was Curls, a huge department store. It received a direct hit, and Mrs Kendal told me it was the first place to be cleared away because the remains were so dangerous.’ He chuckled. ‘But the people of Norwich are a tough lot, and they made good use of that big old hole. They installed enormous water tanks in it so that the firemen putting out the incendiary bombs didn’t have to interfere with the domestic water supply. Other people were fighting the war in their own way all over the place. Mrs Kendal told me that she was passing Greens, the school uniform outfitters, and happened to glance into the ruins. She said the only thing left standing was the wooden horse, still rocking gently, and smiling at passers-by as though to say “We ain’t beat yet”.’
‘And all this was going on whilst we were tucked away in Drake’s Farm, not realising what the Blitz meant,’ Eve said in a small constricted voice. ‘If we’d known … but in a way we did know, because Plymouth was bombed pretty heavily too. We just didn’t see the results, not with our own eyes. My family lived in a flat overlooking Blackheath in London. My mother told me once that there had been a bomb or an incendiary or something further along our street and she had gone up there as soon as she could to make sure nobody we knew needed help. I’m ashamed to say it meant nothing to me. I don’t know what sort of damage I thought a bomb might wreak …’ She turned impulsively to her companion. ‘We listened to the radio and read the newspapers but I promise you, Hank, we didn’t really understand the terrible things that were happening.’
Hank shook his head. ‘And that was how it was meant to be. You kids were evacuated before the war even got properly under way, because your parents needed to know you were safe. How old were you, when the war started?’ And then, before she could answer, ‘Too young to be of any use, believe you me. My dear child – not that you’re a child any more – the whole point of the evacuation was to keep your generation safe and as far from the war as possible. Admittedly, if Lily had known that Norwich was about to be attacked she wouldn’t have stayed on that farm for five minutes, but in her way she and the rest of the Land Army were fighting back, hitting the Luftwaffe by feeding not just civilians but the troops too. And that applies to you kids as well, so don’t you go blaming yourself because you’d found a safe haven. Be thankful that you could do your bit without having to face the terrible destruction the Nazis inflicted.’
He looked down at her and patted her on the shoulder, his ugly face suddenly lit by his endearing grin. ‘Well, that’s it; lecture over. At the time the Kendals thought it was a bloody miracle that the cathedral and the castle were undamaged. I’m not a religious man, but without wishing to sound silly I think the hand of God must have been over those particular places. After all, so far as I heard the only cathedral which was really badly damaged was Coventry, and I believe they’re already making plans to rebuild it as soon as the war is over. Although we mustn’t forget the doodlebugs. They’re the new weapon the Nazis have developed – have you heard of them? They’re flightless, pilotless bombs which are being launched at Britain from certain parts of France. When their engines cut out they fall out of the sky and do considerable damage, so we mustn’t think England’s reached its safe haven yet.’
‘I’ve heard of those things,’ Eve said thoughtfully as they descended from the castle mound, ‘but I thought they were aimed at the Channel ports? And poor old London, of course.’
Hank gave a short bark of laughter. ‘They are what I would call an imprecise weapon of war,’ he said. ‘We aren’t the only ones who don’t know where they’re going to land – the Germans don’t know either. They simply launch the things from some airfield as near the coast as possible and wait for news. Quite often they land in open country, or in the sea, and at least one has flown straight into the path of a Messerschmitt, causing both aircraft and doodlebug to explode on the spot. I don’t imagine there would be much left after a collision of that nature.’
By now they were at the foot of the mound again and crossing the wide street which Hank informed her was called Castle Meadow. Eve imagined that they were heading home until her companion swerved to one side and led her down a flight of steps into a narrow street where a green iron table and two small chairs stood on the pavement outside a tiny café.
‘I’m parched,’ Hank said frankly. ‘How about a nice cuppa, as you Brits call it, and a couple of sticky buns? Lunch seems a long time ago and I dare say you could do with a bite.’
Eve’s expression probably said it all, for he settled her on one of the chairs, waved a hand to a passing waitress who looked as though her feet were killing her, and ordered tea for two and a couple of sticky buns. The waitress creaked into the café and then popped her head back out of the open door.
‘Would your young lady prefer a nice fresh-baked scone?’ she asked. And though Eve said no, she would like the sticky bun, she felt a glow of pride because the waitress had taken her not for Hank’s little sister, but for his girlfriend. However, when she looked again at Hank’s homely face, with its snub nose and the stitch scars which lifted one corner of his upper lip, she was not too sure that the mistake had been a compliment. Nice though he was, Hank was no beauty. In fact she had never, so far as she could recall, met an uglier man. She knew Lily liked dark-haired men and Hank’s red hair couldn’t even be described as ginger; it was the colour of a new carrot and clashed horribly with his reddish skin and white brows and lashes. Then, as she took the first bite out of her sticky bun, Eve chided herself. He was friendly, generous and amusing, and what more could anyone ask? A nicer person than me would say that appearances don’t matter, she told herself. A nicer person than me would not even notice his rabbity teeth – which only look like that because of the stitches in his cheek, I expect – and his overly large feet. And even the size of his feet might be put down to the fact that he’s wearing his flying boots.
She drained her teacup with a satisfied sigh and smiled gratefully at her companion. ‘That was just what I wanted,’ she said. ‘You are clever, Hank, to find this odd little place. How long have you been in the city now? And how old are you anyway? Or is that a rude question?’
‘I’m twenty-four,’ Hank said at once, ‘and I’ve been in the UK now for nearly two years. As I expect you know I came to stay with the Kendals after my accident, when the USAAF had been appealing for billets. Mrs Kendal took me in because she used to be a nurse, and she’s taken better care of me than my own mother could have done. But I’m back on base now, of course, and I’ll be in the air as soon as they find us a new ship.’
‘Oh, but you don’t have to fly again, do you, Hank?’ Eve asked anxiously. She had already realised that she liked Hank immensely and would worry dreadfully if he had to go back in the air. She said as much and he gave her a friendly punch on the shoulder.
‘The Huns are still dropping bombs, you know, though God knows why they haven’t simply realised that they’ve all but lost the war.’ He grinned down at her, pushing his cap to the back of his head. ‘You’ve come in at the end of the battle, baby, but just be grateful for that and don’t try to do me out of my last chance of glory!’
This made Eve laugh, but she realised there was a strain of seriousness behind his words. So when she was hauled from her bed that very night, a blanket wrapped round her shoulders and a basket of provisions, carefully selected, placed in her charge, she was not entirely unprepared. She looked up at the night sky, crisscrossed by searchlights and alive with the humming of aero engines, and felt the first icy prickle of fear. She grabbed Lily’s hand as they hurried down the concrete steps into the shelter, where Lily settled Eve on a bench amongst other residents of the Close and gave her hand a comforting squeeze.
‘Mother and Father are ARP wardens so they’ve gone to their posts; I have to be at the Guild Hall on fire watch,’ she said. ‘Don’t worry – I don’t have to do much except report fires, obey orders and see that everyone is safe until the all clear sounds. Meanwhile, Eve dear, I want you to stay exactly where y
ou are. I know it’s very tempting to push aside the curtain and climb up the steps to see what’s going on, but you really mustn’t do that. Promise me you won’t try?’ She consulted her wristwatch. ‘It’s ages since we had a raid. Of course it had to happen on your second night here, but it shouldn’t last long. The ack-ack batteries and the boys on the searchlights will make sure of that. I’ll come and find you when it’s over.’ She would have turned away but Eve caught her arm. ‘Where’s Hank?’ she enquired urgently. ‘Will he come down to the shelter presently? Only I don’t know anyone else and if a bomb does hit …’
She saw Lily’s white teeth gleam in a reassuring smile. ‘He’ll be back at the base by now, I’m sure. You see, the RAF bombers fly at night but the US Liberators fly during the day, and there’s all sorts of stuff to be seen to once they’re safely home. Since Hank’s not flying at the moment he helps out whenever he can.’
After Lily left her Eve expected to feel very lost and alone, but to her surprise she found several kindred spirits in the shelter, girls like herself who had similar interests and were beginning to think of themselves as young women. In fact, she realised she was enjoying her enforced incarceration, and when one of the girls suggested that they should get together that evening and go to the dance at the Samson and Hercules ballroom she accepted unhesitatingly. Had Lily not said that this holiday would help her to meet other young people of her own age?
When the all clear sounded, shortly after daybreak, Lily met her at the top of the shelter steps and the two of them walked back to the Close together. They entered the kitchen to find a jubilant Hank awaiting them.
‘I’ve seen the CO and they’ve found us a new ship,’ he said joyfully the moment they opened the door. ‘Now my crew can get back to teaching the Jerries a much needed lesson at last.’
Halfway through her first week in Norwich, during which time she had attended three dances at the Samson and Hercules, Eve realised that at least half the USAAF were in love with Lily. Between dances they clustered round her, each man intent upon catching her notice. Tall ones, short ones, dark ones, fair ones, they all thought Lily an English rose beyond compare, and would have fought over her had Lily not made it plain that she wasn’t hanging out for a boyfriend. When Eve teased her, she just smiled and said they would get over their infatuation as soon as they returned to their homeland. In the meantime it was a rare day when she did not receive boxes of what the American airmen called candy, bouquets of flowers, or anything else which would cause her to look upon one or another with approval.