‘Oh, I’m sure I will.’ Daisy put her bag on the bed and went across to look out of the window. The room faced south and she could see across the fields to low wooded hills. The sun glinted on the narrow stretch of water that separated the Island from the mainland of Kent. It was hard to believe that only half a mile away was a scene of such devastation.
‘I’ve made some tea,’ the landlady said. ‘Would you like a cup?’
Daisy was gasping for one, but she thought she ought to get back to the NAAFI and find out what her duties would be. She had a feeling her posting here would be very different from working in the busy, bustling Sheerness canteen.
She soon settled in and began to enjoy the more relaxed atmosphere. As Barbara told her, there were very few customers and there had been some talk of closing down after the last raid. But the powers that be thought it would be good for morale to stay open and give the remaining personnel somewhere to go and relax in their off duty hours.
So far, she hadn’t encountered Stefan, the Polish pilot, or Roland. She hadn’t really expected to as officers did not use the NAAFI. But, mindful of her promise to Lily, she hoped she would bump into him, so that she could tackle him about his treatment of her friend. Maybe she’d voice her suspicions too. She had been keeping a careful eye on Lily and was almost sure she was right. If so, Roland ought to be made aware of his responsibilities. But what if she was wrong?
***
Very often Daisy was on duty alone and on busy evenings had little time to think about what was going on back home. She knew her mother would let her know if news came of Bob – not that she expected any. She hadn’t really given up hope, just resigned herself to waiting till the war was over. She pushed all thoughts of Chris and her growing feelings for him out of her mind. Bob was her sweetheart, always had been, and she would not betray him by thinking of another man.
When she wasn’t working, she sat on the wide windowsill in her room, gazing out over the marshes and remembering the walks she and Bob used to take in the long summer evenings. She enjoyed the solitary walks between her billet and the NAAFI but there was now an autumnal feel in the air and the nights were drawing in. She wondered how she would feel stuck out here in the countryside when the dark winter evenings came.
She and Barbara got on well but they were seldom on duty at the same time, and she didn’t feel the same sense of camaraderie as she had with Lily and June. She missed their frequent laughter and teasing. One thing she didn’t miss was the manager and his grumpy ways and she had managed to dismiss her suspicions of him from her mind. When, if ever, she returned to Sheerness she would ask her dad’s advice. He would know the right person to talk to.
I won’t wait till I see him, she thought. I’ll write to Dad tonight, tell him what I saw. She would walk in to the village and post her letter tomorrow.
The next day she was just handing over her shift to Barbara when she heard a van stop outside. She went to the door, her heart thumping as Mr Browning got out. She knew he came up to Eastchurch occasionally but hadn’t been expecting him so soon.
‘Good afternoon, Miss Bishop. I’ve just come to see how you’re managing with just the two of you and a cook.’
‘Very well, Mr Browning.’
‘I’ve brought some supplies. Perhaps you’ll help me unload.’
She didn’t like to say that she was just going off duty and she followed him outside. She picked up a carton of cigarettes and carried them into the building. Mr Browning was close behind carrying two more large boxes.
When they had finished unloading, they stacked the boxes in the small storeroom behind the counter. ‘There, that should keep you going for a bit,’ Mr Browning said, producing a clipboard. ‘Here, just check this stuff off and sign for it.’ He leaned closer. ‘That way we can be sure there’s no funny business.’ He bared his teeth in a grin, but Daisy knew he wasn’t joking.
She managed to sign her name although her hands were shaking. ‘All in order, Mr Browning,’ she said as she handed the clipboard back to him.
She watched him drive away and realised her hands were still shaking. Did he realise she was suspicious of him? Had his words been a subtle warning?
Barbara finished serving one of mechanics and said, ‘Isn’t it time you were off?’
Daisy nodded. ‘I’m just going in to the village to post a letter. Can I get you anything?’
‘No thanks. Enjoy your afternoon off.’
As she started down the lane, Daisy wondered if she was being overly suspicious. After all, she wasn’t absolutely sure the manager was really involved in wrong-doing. It was just suspicion based on the way he’d behaved towards her and the missing stores she’d noticed. Perhaps it had just been a mistake – someone had forgotten to sign when taking stuff out. But it happened too often to be carelessness. And she couldn’t help recalling his face when he’d mentioned ‘funny business.’ For a moment there she had been quite frightened. The manager’s words were innocuous enough but the menace in his voice was unmistakeable.
Daisy took a deep breath and told herself she would not be intimidated and would definitely keep her eyes open.
It was a lovely afternoon, still warm and sunny but with a touch of autumn in the air. When she reached the village, she stopped outside the church. It was a typical country church with a lych-gate and a paved path leading to the entrance porch. She went in and wandered round, enjoying the sense of peace and calm. A lump came to her throat when she spotted a memorial to the men of the village who had died in the previous war. How many names would be added when this one was over?
She said a silent prayer and left. When she got back to Mrs Lucas’s cottage, she realised the letter to her father was still in her bag. Perhaps she wouldn’t post it after all, she thought, telling herself it was her dislike of the man that caused her suspicions. It certainly wasn’t because she was scared of him. No, she would wait till she had some real evidence and then report him.
Chapter Eighteen
Daisy had been stationed at the Eastchurch airfield for two weeks and was just settling into the work when there was another raid. This time it was far worse than the previous one. She wasn’t on duty and she felt guilty as she crouched in the cupboard under the stairs with Mrs Lucas, her arms around the frightened woman. She wished she could get out there and do something – anything. What was happening to Barbara? Daisy had been due to take over from her just when the raid started. Had she managed to get to the shelter in time? And what about Dad? He was sure to be there, trying to help as he had last time. It was so hard to stay here in the semi-darkness, listening to the noise of bombs and anti-aircraft guns, not knowing what was happening outside.
The raid seemed to go on for hours but at last the all clear went and the two women crept out of their hiding place. Mrs Lucas went straight to the sink and filled the kettle but Daisy opened the back door and stepped outside. Across the fields she could see clouds of smoke and flames, smell the acrid odour of burning.
It was hard to tell from here which buildings were hit and how badly the airfield was affected. She must get up there and see if she could help. There was sure to be injured to deal with. She thrust aside the thought that there would also be fatalities.
When she went back inside, Mrs Lucas was making tea – the universal panacea – but Daisy waved her offer aside. ‘I must go and see – Barbara, my father...’
‘Stay here, dear. You’ll just get in the way. Besides there’s nothing you can do.’
‘I can’t sit here drinking tea,’ Daisy said with a sob. She rushed out of the house and up the lane towards the airfield.
Shocked, she hesitated at the gate. Despite her father’s description of the devastation caused by the previous big raid, and the damage she’d seen for herself on her arrival, nothing prepared her for this. Debris from burning planes littered the ground and there were huge craters everywhere. On the far side of the airfield several of the buildings had been completely demolished.
Daisy gasped and started forward. ‘The NAAFI,’ she gasped. ‘Barbara...’
Before she took more than few steps, she heard a shout and turned to see an officer running towards her.
Daisy hardly recognised the man with his blackened face and torn uniform.
‘What are you doing here?’ Roland asked, grabbing her arm.
‘I work in the NAAFI,’ she said.
‘I thought you were based in Sheerness. But you must get away. It’s too dangerous. We think there’s an unexploded bomb.’
‘I must see if Barbara’s all right.’
‘Was she on duty?’
Daisy nodded, unable to speak.
He shook his head. ‘The NAAFI got a direct hit.’
Daisy gasped and felt her legs shake. Roland took her arm and spoke gently. ‘Don’t worry, she may have got to the shelter. Look, you can’t hang around here. Go back to your billet and I’ll see what I can find out.’
‘No, I want to stay. Perhaps I can help.’
‘There’s nothing you can do. Besides, it’s too dangerous.’
Reluctantly she gave in and slowly walked away, pausing frequently to look back at the devastation. Back at the cottage she couldn’t relax, pacing up and down the small kitchen and periodically going outside to gaze towards the stricken airfield.
Mrs Lucas tried to distract her. ‘Could you help with the vegetables, dear?’ she asked.
Daisy picked up the potato peeler but her hands were shaking so much, she dropped it into the sink with a clatter.
‘Never mind, go and sit down. I’ll do it,’ her landlady said.
‘Sorry, I just can’t...’ Daisy sat at the kitchen table, but a few seconds later she was up again, standing by the back door. She gasped as she spotted a figure walking towards the farm. At first she thought it was Roland coming with news but as he got nearer she recognised her father.
She ran towards him and flung herself into his arms. ‘Dad, you’re safe. Thank goodness,’ she cried.
‘Now then, lovie. No need to make a fuss,’ he said, gently pushing her away.
‘Any news, Dad?’
‘Come inside and I’ll tell you.’
Daisy could hardly contain her impatience, but she sat at the table opposite her father and waited while he took a long swig of the tea Mrs Lucas placed in front of him.
He put the cup down and wiped his hand across his mouth. ‘Not good news, love. I’m sorry...’
‘Roland told me about the NAAFI,’ she interrupted. ‘Is it Barbara?’
‘Fraid so, Daisy. Thank God you weren’t on duty.’
Mrs Lucas started to cry. ‘Such a lovely girl. Oh, this damned war...’
Daisy put her arms round the older woman trying to comfort her. She choked back a sob. ‘Poor Barbara. I didn’t know her all that well. She came from London – her parents thought she’d be safe out of the city.’
Stan took another slurp of his tea and Daisy saw that his hands were shaking. ‘It was terrible – four dead, so many injured, not enough beds in Minster hospital. They sent some to Sittingbourne.’
Daisy didn’t know what to say. She took a sip of her own tea, but she couldn’t sit still. She stood up. ‘What do I do now?’ she asked.
‘You’ll have to come home,’ Stan said abruptly. ‘You can’t do any good here. I’ve spoken to Sid Browning. You can have a few days off and go back to the garrison later.’
‘Mr Browning? What’s he doing here?’
‘He came up in his van as soon as the all clear went. Wanted to see the damage for himself, see if he could salvage anything, he said.’
‘Roland said it was a direct hit. There won’t be much to salvage.’
‘He said there were a few cartons. He’d just finished loading up the van when I spoke to him.’ Stan patted her arm. ‘Nothing for you to worry about. Anyway, go and pack your things. He’ll give you a lift back to town.’
Daisy shuddered at the thought of being in the van with him and was about to protest. But the buses probably weren’t running after the raid. Dad came on his bike and said he had to stay for a while helping with the clearing up.
She turned to her landlady. ‘I’m sorry Mrs Lucas, looks like you’re losing your lodger.’
‘I’m sorry too. It’s been nice having young faces around.’
‘Would you like me to stay and help with Barbara’s things?’ Anything to avoid being in the van with that horrible man. But Mrs Lucas refused her help. ‘I’ll do it, dear. And I’ll write to her parents too – much better than an official letter.’
‘If you’re sure?’
Mrs Lucas nodded and Daisy went upstairs to pack her few belongings. She stripped the bed and folded the sheets and blankets. Looking round to make sure she hadn’t left anything, she went downstairs and said a tearful goodbye to Mrs Lucas. Her father took her bag and they walked up the lane to the airfield in silence.
The fire engine was still there damping down the smoking ruins of the NAAFI building and the RAF personnel were busy salvaging what they could of the damaged aircraft.
Near the gate Sid Browning leaned against the bonnet of his van smoking a cigarette. He straightened up as Daisy and her father approached but she ignored him. ‘I’ll just go and say goodbye to Roland,’ she said.
She had to find out about Stefan too. Then there was the question of Lily. Should she tackle him about his two-timing, as well as the coming baby? It really wasn’t her business though.
Roland was supervising a couple of mechanics, shouting at them to get a move on. She wasn’t surprised at his bullying. It just strengthened her dislike of the man.
She called out to him and he looked up, quickly suppressing the frown of annoyance.
‘Oh, it’s you. I thought you’d gone back to Sheerness.’
‘I’m on my way. Sorry to interrupt your work. I just wanted to know if Stefan was all right.’
‘Stefan? Oh, that Pole you danced with. Dead, I’m afraid.’
How could he sound so casual? Perhaps it was his way of dealing with things though.
‘Oh, I am sorry. He showed me a picture of his fiancée. So sad. I didn’t know him very well but...’ As he made to turn back to his work, she caught his sleeve. ‘There was something else. Lily asked me to give you her love and say she misses you.’
‘All right – you’ve told me.’
‘Haven’t you any message for her? She’s a bit upset she hasn’t heard from you.’
‘I’ve been busy, haven’t I? As you can see. Now, I must get on. Goodbye.’
Stung by his abruptness, Daisy went back to where her father and Mr Browning were talking.
‘Was that Sylvia’s young man?’ Stan asked.
Daisy nodded.
‘Come on then. I haven’t got all day,’ Sid Browning said, opening the passenger door of the van.
‘Goodbye, Dad. I’ll tell Mum you’re all right.’ She kissed his cheek and climbed into the van, glancing into the back. The vehicle was stacked with boxes.
As they pulled away she said, ‘I see you managed to salvage some of the stores.’
‘Yes, good job I came. Those Home Guards and firemen would have had the lot away if not.’
Daisy didn’t reply. If that lot were salvaged from the ruined NAAFI store, she’d eat her hat. Everything she’d seen that morning was black with smoke. Those pristine boxes had been nowhere near the building during the raid. He must think I’m stupid, she thought. Well, he’s not going to get away with it. I’ll find out what he’s up to if it’s the last thing I do.
***
They drove the few miles in silence, the manager scowling, crashing the gears and driving erratically. He slowed down as they drove through Minster past the pub at the top of the hill. A man standing outside waved to them, but Mr Browning ignored him and speeded up.
Daisy was pleased when they reached the outskirts of town and the van slowed to go through the checkpoint near the canal. Soldiers manned the gun emplacements along the ca
nal bank – a grim reminder of how vulnerable the Island was. Sid Browning showed his pass and a few yards further on dropped Daisy off at the corner of her street, braking abruptly and throwing her back in the seat. She got out and, without saying goodbye, he drove off down the High Street with another clash of gears.
She walked up the road, averting her eyes as she passed the ruins of the bombed houses. She’d seen enough destruction today to last a lifetime. She hoped her mother wasn’t at home; she couldn’t cope with her fussing right now.
But Dora was there, bent over the range, taking something out of the oven and Daisy realised how good it was to come home to a loving welcome. The tempting aroma of her mother’s cooking made her realise she hadn’t eaten today.
‘Smells good, Mum,’ she said.
‘Oh, goodness, you nearly made me drop it. I didn’t hear you come in.’ Dora put a pie down on the table. ‘Rabbit – for a change.’ She gave a little laugh. ‘Don’t know about the pastry though, not enough fat really. Probably be hard as rocks. Still, there’s plenty of greens and spuds thanks to Dad’s allotment.’
Daisy put her bag down in the corner and sat down abruptly, her legs shaking. Suddenly, the events of the morning hit her and she struggled to hold back the tears.
Her mother looked closely at her. ‘What are you doing home? I didn’t expect you. Is everything all right? Have you seen your Dad?’
Daisy nodded. ‘He’s OK.’ She choked on the words and started to cry, releasing the emotions she had managed to hold in check so far. ‘Oh, Mum, it was awful,’ she sobbed. ‘My friend got killed – the girl I work with – and Stefan. They sent me home.’ Dora pulled her daughter to her in a hug, smoothing her hair and rocking her as she’d done when Daisy was a child. ‘There, there, lovie.’
Finally the storm of tears passed and Daisy sniffed, ‘Sorry, Mum. You were asking about Dad. He’s all right. He said to tell you he might be late. It’s chaos up there.’
‘I’ve been so worried about both of you. When do you have to go back?’
Daisy's War Page 16