Over and Out

by Fenella J Miller

  ‘You don’t want an only child – more trouble for you than having another one for it to play with. I’m resigned to the fact that eventually I’ll be in the same situation but hopefully not for a few years yet.’

  Amanda’s smile was genuine for the first time since last night. ‘I suppose it’s better for us to keep our radical views to ourselves – we’ll be thought unnatural women because we don’t want to procreate.’

  ‘I remember my mother saying once about the daughter of a friend of hers that there must be something wrong as there’d been no infant produced within the first year.’

  ‘War has changed everything for us. Whatever happens, returning to civilian life for most women is going to be much harder than it will be for the men. I don’t think we’ll be allowed to be bus or ambulance drivers, work in the factories, mend cars and aeroplanes like we do now.’

  ‘I think it might be hardest for the children who’ve been evacuated and will have lived away from their own families for years by the time they get back.’

  ‘I can hear the Anson coming in. I’d better go.’ They hugged and her friend left leaving Ellie trying not to cry.

  Two

  Ellie checked that the cottage was immaculate – no dust lurking in any corners or dirt on the floors. Fires were lit in every room, including their bedroom, as she wanted this visit to be special. It had been more than four weeks since they’d spent any longer than an hour or two together and she was desperate to see Jack.

  As long as he didn’t keep on about her moving to his pool or starting a family, things should be fine. There was something really important she had to discuss with him. It was about her horrible grandfather who had gatecrashed their wedding last year. Mother had refused to contact him so no one knew the reason for his unwelcome appearance.

  She’d managed to get half a dozen eggs, a jug of cream, a fresh loaf and a few ounces of butter from the farm as well as her usual milk. She’d saved her coupons for weeks and had used them to buy a piece of mutton and a few ounces of currents. She’d added root vegetables to the meat – there was no shortage of these – and the casserole had been cooking all day in the slow oven on the range whilst she was at work.

  Dessert would be a real luxury – bread-and-butter pudding with real custard, not Bird’s Eye powder mixed with milk and water. The table was laid with a pretty cloth that had once belonged to her grandmother and she’d used the best crockery.

  Jack had told her not to wait for him as he didn’t know when his taxi would arrive. Amanda’s bike had been given to him when she moved out and it was left at the ferry pool for anyone to use as long as it was there when he wanted it. Ellie just put a note on the noticeboard in the Mess as soon as she knew he was coming and, so far, it had worked really well and the bicycle had always been waiting for him.

  When she’d first seen him pedalling along one-handed she’d been impressed, but now she was used to him being able to do most things that an able-bodied man could. A wave of heat engulfed her. She couldn’t imagine that even with two hands their lovemaking could be improved. That was one area of their marriage that was absolutely perfect.

  She glanced at the clock ticking noisily on the kitchen windowsill. It had been dark for half an hour so he should be here any moment. He didn’t need to bring spare clothes with him as he kept most of his belongings at the cottage. Instead of her moving to his pool maybe Margaret, and Rosemary Lees, second in command, could be persuaded to take him on at Hamble – having just one man amongst all the women shouldn’t make any difference to how the pool worked.

  There was a clatter outside the front door. He was dumping his bike against the wall. She quickly removed her apron, checked in the mirror that her hair was tidy, her lipstick not smudged, and then headed down the passageway to greet him.

  The front door was unlocked and it opened with a bang. ‘Sorry, darling, it’s bloody windy out there and it tore it out of my hand.’ He was looking somewhat dishevelled and from the amount of mud on his uniform greatcoat she guessed he’d taken a tumble.

  ‘Are you all right? Have you got any cuts and bruises that I need to attend to?’

  ‘All tickety-boo – soft landing, luckily.’ He slammed the door shut, bolted it and then turned to her. His smile said it all. She flew into his arms and was crushed to his chest. A very satisfactory five minutes later she wriggled free.

  ‘There’s lashings of hot water if you want a bath before tea.’

  ‘I’ll have one when we go to bed. Something smells delicious – I’m starving.’ With a deft flick he removed his greatcoat and hung it on the peg beside the front door.

  ‘I’ll brush the mud off when it’s dry. It seems so long since we were here together and I think of this as our home. I don’t really enjoy staying in the bed and breakfast near your base.’

  ‘Can we eat first and talk afterwards? When I said I was starving it’s only a slight exaggeration. I’ve not eaten since yesterday morning – just wasn’t time between deliveries to grab anything.’

  ‘Surely not? You must have had time to eat tea and breakfast.’

  ‘I missed the taxi last night and had to kip in the Officers’ Mess. They weren’t too pleased to have me there and I wasn’t offered anything to eat. I snagged a lift first thing so I didn’t have time to find a NAAFI.’

  She stretched up on tiptoe and kissed him. ‘Poor you. It’s a mutton casserole and then bread-and-butter pudding made with real custard. Nothing decent to drink apart from tea or cocoa, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Just a minute – I forgot; I’ve got a present for you.’ He delved into his greatcoat pocket and produced a tin of real coffee. She recognised it as being from an American base as she’d been given some exactly the same last year.

  She couldn’t prevent a squeal of excitement and he laughed. ‘How did you get it?’

  ‘Frankie gave it to me. Some bigwig Yank gave it to him and he doesn’t like coffee and he knows how much you do.’

  ‘Your pool commander is absolutely super. Give him this big kiss from me.’

  Eventually they got to the kitchen and he admired the table arrangement. He was even more impressed when she produced the succulent stew. They munched in happy silence until every last morsel had been scraped from the dish.

  ‘Shall we leave pudding for a bit?’

  ‘Good idea, Ellie, I couldn’t do it justice at the moment after three helpings of dinner.’

  ‘There’s something I need to tell you about Sir Reginald. He went to see George at Admiralty House and my brother then wrote to me.’

  She had his full attention now. ‘I take it there’s something wrong.’

  ‘He’s dying. He’s got some sort of cancer, leukaemia I think, and hasn’t got more than another few months to live. He wants to put things right in the family before he dies.’

  ‘Good God! I wasn’t expecting that. Poor old sod – I wish I hadn’t thrown him out now.’

  ‘I know, I feel bad about that too. But things might have been better if his horrible chauffeur hadn’t tried to punch you. He could have come back the next day and put a note through the door. He did write several times but Mum returned his letters unopened which is why he went to George’s place of work.’

  ‘Is his title hereditary?’

  ‘Yes, but there are no male heirs to have it. George will inherit everything, apart from what he’s leaving to my mother, myself and his grandchild.’

  ‘How does your brother feel about that?’

  ‘He’s resigned, rather than pleased. He and Fiona don’t want to live in that mausoleum of a house. He’s arranging to give it to the government to use as a hospital or something similar.’ She came to the difficult part of her news.

  ‘Dad was intending to leave the farm to George as you told him that, with only one hand, you couldn’t run it yourself. I’m sorry, but now we have to have it. I know you don’t want to be a farmer, neither do I particularly, but I promised Dad we wouldn’t sell the farms but keep them
in the family.’

  ‘Presumably Mabel will remain there until she dies. Anyway, Fred’s not had any health scares since he had his stroke two years ago, has he?’

  ‘No, he was given the all clear by the hospital at the time.’

  ‘In which case we don’t have to worry about it at the moment. I take it you’ve got to go and see your grandfather?’

  ‘I was coming to that. He’s booked several suites of rooms at the Ritz and everyone’s going to be there. I’ve already spoken to Alison and she’s agreed I can have those two days as leave.’

  ‘When is it?’

  ‘Not until April – plenty of time for you to arrange to get your leave then as well. It’s Friday the ninth and Saturday the tenth. It seems that grandfather has booked a box at a theatre for the Saturday evening.’

  ‘You never got to wear your evening dress the last time we were there. I’ve got time to find myself a dinner jacket so I won’t look out of place.’

  ‘Don’t bother, darling, wear your uniform like last time. I’m certainly going to. It will be good to see my nephew again as we’ve not seen him since he was a few hours old.’

  ‘Don’t remind me. We could all have gone for a Burton that day.’

  *

  Jack pointed to the pudding waiting on top of the range. ‘I’m ready for that, if you are.’

  It was even more delicious than the stew but even he couldn’t finish all of it. ‘Do you want to wash up or shall we just stack it and leave it until tomorrow morning?’

  ‘Leave it. I’m absolutely stuffed and far too lazy to do it now. I’ll make the coffee if you want to go through to the sitting room and put your feet up.’

  ‘I’m quite capable of making coffee, Ellie, even with only one hand.’ He hadn’t meant to snarl at her and regretted his sharpness immediately. Before he could apologise, she pushed her chair back and stood up.

  ‘Fine – bring it through when it’s done.’ Her tone was equally terse and she marched out of the kitchen.

  He should have told her how uncomfortable he was knowing she was about to inherit yet more money when he had virtually nothing compared to her. He was supposed to be the provider and he wasn’t even earning as much she was since she’d been promoted. Women of the same rank got less than the men at the moment, but this was about to change, or so he’d been told.

  He didn’t want to be financially dependent on her, but now, even if he eventually trained as a civil engineer after the war, he would be the junior partner in this relationship. If they ever had children, he could hardly deny them the benefit of her money – that would be stupid and unfair.

  It was all very well her telling him that it didn’t make any difference to her how much money he had or whether he had one hand or two – he knew she was lying. Of course it bloody well made a difference. He would still be a squadron leader, not an ATA pilot, unable to fly anything but fighters because of his disability.

  What he wanted was a stiff drink but there was no alcohol in the house and he certainly wasn’t going to trek down to the village pub in the dark, especially as it had started raining again. He made the coffee, put the jug and the mugs on a tray and carried it through to the sitting room balanced precariously on his arm.

  The room was empty. She hadn’t waited for coffee and he knew how much she loved it. Sadly, he put the tray down and poured himself a mug full. He wouldn’t go into their bedroom but sleep in the spare room. She would be better off with someone else, someone of her status, someone who was a real man not a cripple like him.

  ‘Jack, budge up and don’t look so miserable. I’m sorry I snapped at you.’

  The weight on his chest lifted. ‘And I’m sorry I’m such a bad-tempered bastard.’ Whilst they drank the rest of the coffee he explained as best he could how he felt about her inheriting yet more money.

  She was, by this time, curled up on the sofa next to him with her head resting on his shoulder. ‘Don’t be silly, sweetheart, we’re a team. All the money from Greg, and anything I get from Sir Reginald, is as much yours as mine as far as I’m concerned.’

  ‘I know, honey, but no guy likes to feel he’s being kept by his wife. Nigel’s thrilled about becoming a father and keeps telling me I should insist that we buy a house near White Waltham and make you transfer to my base.’

  She twisted round and smiled. ‘He’s a very old-fashioned sort of man, not like you at all. Would you consider moving to Hamble if the CO agrees?’

  This suggestion took him by surprise and for a moment he couldn’t think of a way to refuse without upsetting her. ‘It’s an all-female ferry pool – if they took me on they’d probably have to take other guys which would defeat the object. However, if she did agree I’d certainly consider it as an option.’

  He drained the last of the coffee and replaced his mug on the tray. ‘I’m going up – do you fancy hopping in the bath with me?’

  She was on her feet before him and heading for the door. She glanced over her shoulder with a wicked smile. ‘I’ll run the bath and see you in there.’

  *

  April 1943

  Jack was dreading the weekend at the Ritz with Ellie’s family. Every time he bumped into Nigel he droned on about the wonders of parenthood, of living with Amanda and the fact that he was transferring to White Waltham.

  ‘So you see, old bean, it makes sense for us to rent something decent nearby. That way I’ll be able to see more of my son or daughter and hopefully get home most evenings.’

  ‘I’ve suggested that to Ellie but she’s adamant she intends to stay where she is.’ He pretended he’d something to do elsewhere and hurried off. He didn’t understand why he was so bloody miserable all the time nowadays. He was married to a wonderful girl, the only woman he’d ever loved, and even if he was her second choice he was almost sure she’d finally got over Greg.

  Unfortunately, on his next delivery to Kenley he bumped into an old pal of Greg’s who was now a wing commander: Giles or Miles or something equally posh – one of the hooray Henrys who’d always looked down on him.

  ‘I say, aren’t you the lucky blighter who married Greg Dunlop’s fiancée?’

  Jack barely hid his dislike. ‘I am.’

  ‘Rotten luck that he was forced to marry that other woman rather than Ellie. Things would have been quite different for her.’ He stared pointedly at Jack’s empty sleeve. ‘I suppose being second best is better than nothing at all.’ He nodded and smiled – more a sneer really. ‘She would be better off with someone like me, but there you are. You got in first. Got the sympathy vote I expect. Toodle pip. Better things to do than waste time with someone from the ATA.’

  If he had had both hands, he would happily have strangled him – the supercilious bastard. But what he’d said was only the truth, what he’d been trying to ignore since they’d got married. She would have been better off with someone else.

  That obnoxious guy had just confirmed his worst fears. He wasn’t good enough for her. His uncle had died in prison and he scarcely remembered his own parents. Ellie’s mother came from the top drawer and even if Fred was an ordinary bloke, he owned four farms which he intended to leave to her.

  It would have been better if he’d died in the crash and then she would have eventually married someone more like Greg, a man who wasn’t a cripple.

  The closer it got to the weekend in London the more he doubted his position in her life. Although it was tearing him apart he knew there was only one thing he could do and he intended to do it when they next met.

  *

  Things just weren’t the same without Amanda as Ellie had never made any other close friends. She liked all the women but they were a bit cliquey and she wasn’t part of the group. She was really looking forward to spending a weekend in London with Jack, her mother, her brother, his wife and little Neil. She still wasn’t sure about spending time with Sir Reginald – although she was trying to think of him now as her grandfather and not as an unpleasant stranger with fascist views
.

  However, she was concerned that something was wrong between herself and Jack. He hadn’t answered her letters and was never there when she rang and asked to speak to him. Eventually she decided to ask Frankie if he knew what was wrong.

  ‘It’s not like him to ignore my letters and he usually contacts Hamble occasionally as well.’

  ‘He’s not himself lately, Ellie, taciturn to the point of rudeness. Not taken the day off for God knows how long. Thought maybe you and he had had a falling out.’

  ‘Absolutely not. Anyway, at least I know he’s not unwell. I’m really sorry to have involved you in our personal lives.’

  ‘Hopefully you’ll get to the bottom of it at the weekend.’ There was a pause and she thought he was about to hang up but then he continued. ‘I’ve seen this a couple of times before with chaps who had a nasty prang. They seem tickety-boo and then suddenly fall apart. I’m keeping an eye on him – don’t worry about it.’

  She wasn’t sure if she was relieved that Jack’s strange behaviour could possibly be a delayed reaction to his near-death experience at the hands of the villains in London or concerned that he might be experiencing a mental breakdown of some sort.

  There was nothing she could do about it until she spoke to him in person. Meeting at the Ritz seemed a very bad idea now and she wished that she could avoid it but she’d given her word and had no option but to stick to this arrangement. Jack wasn’t comfortable in such grand surroundings and to be honest neither was she – it would be far better to talk to him quietly at Glebe Farm where they were both at ease. She prayed she was worrying unnecessarily.

  With some trepidation she caught a taxi Fairfield to Hornchurch and then got the train to Town. Jack was meeting her at the hotel, as were the rest of her family, which meant she had the morning to herself. She headed for Oxford Street in the hope of being able to buy some nylons. She had enough coupons but it was quite possible there wouldn’t be any for sale.