Lil was bursting with pride, but she steeled herself to say, ‘No, no, that should be Frank, though I don’t know if I’ll be able to contain myself until he gets home tonight. I’d best stay out of her way. She’ll read it in my face.’
‘But aren’t you meant to be going to the WVS centre with her today?’
‘Oh dear, yes, it’s Thursday, isn’t it?’
Now Lil was faced with a dilemma. She knew she wouldn’t be able to keep Irene’s secret if she was to be with Edie for more than a few minutes, let alone most of the day.
‘Oh, go on, Mam. It won’t matter if you do let the cat out of the bag. Frank won’t make a fuss. He was that thrilled when I told him last night after we went to bed, I reckon he wanted to wake the whole street up there and then.’
Frank had gone out early to look for work but neither of them knew what time he might return.
‘I just didn’t want to spoil his surprise. I’m sure he’d like to tell his family himself.’
‘If you can keep it to yourself, do, but don’t worry if she winkles it out of you. I know what Aunty Edie’s like – and so does Frank.’ She laughed. ‘He used to tell me when we were kids at school that he could never keep anything he’d done from her. “I shall find out,” she used to say to him, “so you might as well tell me yarsen.”’
‘I remember,’ Lil murmured and then sighed. ‘Oh well, I’ll do my best.’
As it happened, Edie had some news of her own and she was so wrapped up in telling Lil all about it that she didn’t seem to notice Lil’s happy smile or the extra twinkle in her eyes.
‘Beth’s going away again.’
‘Oh Edie, no! Where? Back to the Forsters?’
‘I’m really not sure where she’s going, Lil, but it seems it’s Alan Forster’s fault – oh, dear, I shouldn’t say that, because she’ll have to do some sort of war work eventually. She might even get called up. They’re already trying to persuade women to volunteer for the services.’
‘But there are other things she could do, aren’t there? What about the WVS or even the Land Army?’
Edie pursed her lips and shook her head. ‘No, she’s determined to go to London. It seems this Alan Forster is now involved in some sort of work in the War Office. She wrote to him asking if there was anything she could do and he’s written back to say that she could be an enormous help there because she can speak French fluently.’
‘I don’t think I like the sound of that, Edie.’
‘No, and neither do I.’
‘What does Archie say?’
‘He doesn’t know yet, but he’ll be home tonight. I’m hoping she’ll listen to him.’
But the evening in the Kelsey household was taken over by Frank and Irene’s arrival with their exciting news. All day, Edie had been preoccupied with her own worries and Lil had escaped any awkward questions.
Frank and Irene had arrived together after tea. ‘You’re going to be a grandma, Mam. How does that sound?’
Edie had given a shriek and enveloped first Frank and then Irene in her embrace. ‘That’s wonderful news! I’d better start knitting. And Archie, you can get the old cot down out of the loft and make sure it’s in good repair. And me and your mam can watch out for a decent second-hand pram, Irene.’
The family laughed at her joy, but they all shared it and in the midst of it, Beth’s news went unsaid and it wasn’t until they were getting ready for bed together that Edie remembered to tell Archie.
‘You’ll have a word with her, won’t you? Try to stop her going. I don’t want her down in London.’
Much to her surprise – and not a little disappointment – Archie said, ‘I won’t be able to stop her, love, and besides, even if I could, I’m not sure I’d want to. As a single young woman, she’s going to have to do something. It might be better if she does something now which is her own choice.’
‘But living in London, Archie . . .’
‘I’m sure Mr Forster will make sure she’s all right.’ He chuckled. ‘Besides, she might be working in a nice office. What would your mam have said to that, eh?’
Edie had the grace to smile.
Archie insisted that they all went to the railway station to see Beth off.
‘I’d rather you didn’t, Dad. I don’t like goodbyes.’
He forced a laugh, though her words sounded prophetic. ‘It’s not “goodbye” only – what is it you’d say now?’
She smiled weakly. ‘Au revoir.’
‘Doesn’t that mean “till we meet again”?’
‘Sort of.’
‘There you are, then. See, even I know a bit of French.’
It was quite a gathering on the platform. They were jostled by soldiers going back to camp from leave and all their families who’d come to wish them well. There was laughter, but plenty of tears too with wives and sweethearts clinging to their menfolk until the very last second. Young children – those who had not already been evacuated – sensed the pathos of the moment and cried loudly.
‘I’ll write,’ Beth promised, giving each member of her family a swift hug, and Lil and Irene too, but it was Archie who held her just a little longer than the rest and who whispered in her ear. ‘Take care of yourself, lass, and come back to us.’
Beth hadn’t replied but she’d squeezed him tightly and then turned away quickly and boarded the train. As it left the station and began to gather speed, people began to drift away, but Archie refused to move until the train was out of sight.
‘Things are getting serious in France, you know, Edie,’ Archie said early in May, prodding his finger at the newspaper he was reading. ‘Holland and Belgium have been invaded. I don’t think it will be long before they fall and then I reckon poor old France will be next.’
‘What?’ Edie had stared at him, wide-eyed. ‘But – but Laurence is over there.’
‘I know.’
‘Are they bringing our lads back home, then?’
Archie had been about to say, ‘Of course not; they’ll stay and fight to the bitter end’, but the words remained unspoken. He couldn’t say that to Edie. Instead he said mildly, ‘Let’s hope so, love.’ Then he added, ‘But there’s one bit of brighter news. Mr Churchill’s become Prime Minister. We’ll be all right with him at the helm.’
Again he didn’t say that in the report he was reading of the new Prime Minister’s speech to the House, all Winston Churchill could promise was ‘blood, toil, tears and sweat’.
Defeat, it seemed, was not a word that was in Mr Churchill’s vocabulary.
When Archie returned to sea, Edie no longer read the newspapers or listened to the news bulletins on the wireless, so she didn’t hear when Holland and Belgium surrendered to the Nazis or how the German army pushed on into France and surrounded the remnants of the British army at a place called Dunkirk, trapping them against the sea. Though Lil heard and trembled to think of Laurence, she said nothing to Edie. But even Edie could not remain oblivious to Operation Dynamo at the end of the month, the unbelievable evacuation of over three hundred thousand troops from the Dunkirk beaches.
‘It’s nothing short of a miracle,’ Jessie enthused when Edie and Lil arrived at the WVS centre and even Norma said, ‘I wish we were there. I’d love to be meeting the soldiers coming ashore, giving them tea and blankets. Poor things.’ For a brief moment they saw a softer side to Norma.
‘Our colleagues in the area will be doing everything they can and we’re doing our bit, Norma,’ Jessie said, for once in agreement with Lil’s surly sister, ‘by sending supplies, even if we can’t be there in person.’
Edie stood still, trying to close her ears to the talk buzzing around her; it was all about Dunkirk and when Jessie asked her, ‘Have you heard from Laurence?’ she shook her head, turned and walked away.
‘Leave it, Jessie,’ Lil whispered. ‘She never wants to know news of any sort when Archie’s away. And he’s been away longer than normal this time. She’ll hear soon enough if . . .’
Lil left
the dreadful words hanging in the air.
Eight
The arrival of a telegram boy on his bicycle in the street struck fear into the hearts of all those who saw him. Jessie saw him as she walked towards the town centre to join the queues and haggle with the shopkeepers over the rations. Norma saw him as, dressed in her WVS uniform, she walked along the street where her sister lived with the intention of calling on Lil to see if she was helping out today. But when she saw the boy pedalling towards her, Norma carried on walking. Lil saw him as he slowed his bicycle, stopped and actually leaned it against the wall of her house. Watching him from her front-room window, she saw him search in the bag he carried over his shoulder and pull out the telegram. Then, slowly, as if he already knew the contents, he knocked on Edie’s front door.
‘Oh no,’ Lil whispered, her fingers covering her mouth. She turned and hurried through to the back room where Irene was ironing and Frank – still unable to find work – was cleaning shoes. As she opened the door, they both looked towards her, seeing at once that something was wrong.
‘Frank – there’s a telegram boy just – just gone next door. To your mam’s.’
Frank stared at her for a moment and then, galvanized into action, flung down the shoe and the brush he was holding and ran out of the house, through both yards and in at the back door of his former home. He only stopped when he saw the pitiful sight of his mother standing in the centre of the living room holding the telegram in her hand, too afraid to open it. Gently, Frank eased the paper from her stiff fingers and tore it open. He stared down at it for a long time before he raised his eyes and said huskily, ‘Oh Mam, it’s Laurence. He was killed on the beach at Dunkirk. It – it says a letter will follow.’
The colour drained from Edie’s face as Frank helped her to sit down in the easy chair by the fire. Despite its warmth, Edie began to shake. ‘Fetch – fetch Lil,’ she gasped.
‘I’m here, duck,’ Lil spoke from the doorway. She had followed Frank and had been hovering in the scullery. Now she stepped into the living room and went to kneel at Edie’s side to take her hand. Edie clung to it like a drowning person.
There was nothing Lil could say or do to lessen the pain for her friend, but she was there for her.
The promised letter arrived the following morning and gave a little more detail. ‘He was killed as he waited to get on board one of the little ships. The enemy were dive-bombing the beaches,’ Frank explained to Lil, but Edie just sat beside the range staring at nothing. She didn’t weep or wail; in fact, she was eerily silent. She hardly seemed able to speak and Lil stayed at her side all day and through the night until Archie was due home.
But Archie did not arrive on the day they’d expected him and when Lil read in the paper about all the ‘little ships’ that had gone across the Chanel, she began to worry even more.
Frank went each night to the docks in the hope of meeting his father but when there was still no sign of Archie’s trawler, Frank went to the dock offices.
‘Mr Reeves,’ he asked politely of the man in charge, ‘have you heard any news of my father’s ship? He was due back three nights ago.’
Jack Reeves avoided meeting Frank’s steady gaze. ‘You’d best go to his employers’ offices. They’ll tell you.’
Frank stared at the man, a shaft of fear coursing through him. ‘You know something, don’t you?’
Jack shook his head. ‘I know where he is – or rather where he went – but I don’t know where he is right this minute, Frank. Like I say, go and ask at the owners’ offices.’
Frank knew most of the office employees of the owners of Archie’s trawler and he was pleased to see one of his former schoolmates behind the enquiry desk.
‘Luke, me dad’s trawler is late back. Have you any news?’
The young man glanced around him to make sure no one could overhear before he came round the desk and said quietly, ‘I’m not supposed to say too much, Frank, but you’re one of us, so I can tell you. A lot of our ships have gone down to Sheerness and then across the Channel.’ He paused and then whispered, ‘You understand what I’m saying, don’t you?’
The room around him seemed suddenly unsteady and Luke’s face swam before Frank’s eyes. He thought for one dreadful moment that he might pass out; a very unmanly thing to do in Frank Kelsey’s book. But the news was shocking and disturbing. They’d just had news that Laurence had been killed on the beaches, were they now to hear that another member of their family had perished trying to rescue the soldiers?
In a cracked, none-too-steady voice, Frank said, ‘I do, mate.’
‘The Admiralty issued appeals for skippers, engineers and crew of small craft and anyone with knowledge of coastal navigation.’
Hoarsely, Frank said, ‘And I suppose trawlers were an obvious choice. Weren’t they?’
Soberly, Luke nodded.
‘I didn’t hear anything, Luke. Me mam won’t listen to the news bulletins when me dad’s at sea.’ He paused, then frowned, ‘But he’s on a regular trip – he won’t have . . .’ He stared at Luke. ‘Will he?’
‘He came back earlier than expected.’ Frank blinked and focussed on what Luke was saying. ‘You should have seen it on the docks that night, Frank, after the appeal. We were inundated with volunteers. They were queuing out of the docks and down the street. The skippers were choosing their crews and men were jostling each other to be picked. Old men who shouldn’t really have gone, but they skived the medical and joined the ships. It was a sight to see, Frank, I don’t mind telling you. Your dad got his usual crew, so he was lucky because they’ll all work so well together and ships were leaving on every tide – dozens of them. For the first time in me life, Frank, I wished I’d been a fisherman and then I could have gone.’
‘But he never came home.’ Frank was amazed. But then he realized; Archie wouldn’t have wanted his family to know what he was going to do.
‘Thanks for telling me,’ he said quietly. ‘Will you – will you come to the house yourself if – if there’s any news?’
‘I will, Frank,’ Luke promised solemnly. ‘But I’d keep it to yourself for the time being, if you can. The ships are on their way home as we speak. We’ll know soon enough.’
‘Haven’t you heard by radio who’s coming back?’
Frank shook his head. ‘Use of ship-to-shore radio is restricted now. You know that.’
Frank nodded. ‘Of course. I’m – just not thinking straight.’
He turned to go, his heart heavy. The thought uppermost in his troubled mind was: Whatever am I going to tell Mam?
As it happened, Frank was spared saying anything to his mother. Edie was so sunk in grief that she was unaware of the passage of time, even oblivious to the fact that Archie was late back. She just sat, staring into space with Lil sitting beside her or trying to tempt her to eat. But Edie could eat nothing, though she did drink the endless cups of tea that Lil made.
Frank confided his fears for his father’s safety to his young wife. ‘But don’t say owt to your mam. She might feel she’s got to tell her. They don’t have any secrets from each other.’
Irene sat down suddenly in a chair and put her hand protectively over her swelling belly. Now, her baby would never know its Uncle Laurence. Would it also not have either granddad? The thought was unbearable.
Frank knelt at the side of her chair. ‘Are you all right, love? You’ve gone awfully white. Mebbe I shouldn’t have told you either. Let me get you a glass of water.’
‘I’m all right – honest. It – it was just the shock.’
‘If you’re sure, then I’d best get back to Mam. Just you rest now. Promise?’
Irene nodded, but when Frank left the house and she was alone, she let the tears flow, not only for Laurence, whom she’d loved as a brother, but also in her dread for Uncle Archie’s safety.
When Frank stepped back into Edie’s living room, he saw Jessie sitting opposite her. He went to stand behind his mother’s chair. Jessie bit her lip, glanced up
at Frank and then her gaze came back to her sister’s face. ‘Does she know about – about Archie?’
Lil looked up sharply. ‘What about Archie?’
Behind his mother, Frank made urgent signals that Jessie should say no more, but whilst Lil was anxious to know what Jessie meant, Edie didn’t even seem to have understood.
‘Oh, nothing, nothing.’ But Lil was acutely aware that there was something and that Jessie, and possibly Frank, too, knew what it was. It was to do with Archie and the reason for his late return, she was sure, but Lil, in her overriding concern for her dear friend, never considered that Archie could have been involved in what she thought of as the greatest rescue mission ever undertaken.
Frank squinted through the darkness at a young woman standing in the shadows, her gaze fixed on the lock gates, watching the ships coming through. He had come again to the docks, but there was still no news from the dock master. Frank hadn’t seen the girl before and he thought he knew all the pretty girls around here. Not that he could see much of her face through the gloom, nor the colour of her hair, which was covered with a headscarf, but he could tell she was slim, her hands pushed deeply into the pocket of her mackintosh. He sidled over to her.
‘You waiting for someone too?’
She jumped, startled by his voice. ‘Y-yes,’ she stammered. ‘I am waiting for – for my boyfriend. He is on a trawler, but it is late.’
Frank frowned uneasily. The girl had a strong foreign accent.
‘Oh aye,’ he said, deliberately sounding casual. ‘What ship’s he on?’
The girl laughed nervously. ‘I don’t know. He goes on a different one sometimes. I don’t know which one this time.’
The girl spoke very good English, but there was no hiding the accent.
‘You’re not from around here?’
She shook her head, avoiding his gaze. ‘I am Swiss,’ she told him hurriedly. Perhaps she was a little too eager to impart the information to convince him that she was no threat. ‘But I live here now. I am a freelance reporter for the local paper. That’s why I am here. There are several ships late back. Do you know where they have been?’
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