Heartwarming and emotional story of one girl's courage in WW2

by Fenella J Miller

  ‘I’ll ring Joe tomorrow. It’s possible he’s still at home and we can just post the envelope to him and forget about it.’

  ‘If there’s nothing else, I must go and change. Dad’s been really understanding about all this and the least he deserves is a hot meal when he comes home.’ She paused at the door. ‘Did he say anything about my mother? I have a nasty feeling she’s left him. She’s been threatening to go for years and I think his behaviour at her party was the last straw.’

  ‘What did he do, for God’s sake?’

  ‘He refused to mix with her guests for more than half an hour and then he was rude to those that he did speak to. They’ll be happier apart. I know that’s a shocking thing to say but why should people stay together when they’re making each other miserable?’

  ‘It’s what folks do. I won’t get married unless I’m sure we’ll stick together. My aunt stuck with Joe and I think that’s how it should be.’

  She stared at him if he was something unpleasant she’d discovered stuck to the bottom of her shoe. ‘Well, Mr Reynolds, I’m glad we’ve got that clear.’

  The fact that she didn’t slam the door, but closed it quietly, made him feel like a heel. What had made him spout off that rubbish? Hardly tactful in the circumstances. He closed his eyes and flopped back on the pillows wishing he’d kept his trap shut. He liked Ellie, she’d saved his life if Jimmy was to be believed, and now he’d alienated her – maybe for good.

  His gaze kept returning to the suitcase. He’d said it would be better if he didn’t know the contents of the envelope but maybe he was wrong about that as well. He rolled out of bed and stood up slowly. His legs felt as if they belonged to someone else but apart from that he was fine.

  He staggered across the room like an old man. His right arm was in a sling. He wasn’t sure if he could use his left to stretch up without worsening his injury. If he was going to discover what Joe had been hiding, he had no choice.

  The suitcase was heavier than he’d expected and he lost his grip. It crashed to the floor scattering its contents onto the central rug. He staggered a few steps, lost his balance and fell onto his knees. The impact jarred his shoulder and his head spun with the pain.

  The door burst open and Ellie erupted into the room. She dropped to her knees beside him all signs of her previous animosity gone. ‘Let me help you up. If you hang onto the bed post with your good arm I think we can manage it.’

  His stomach was churning and for a horrible moment he thought he was going to vomit. Then it passed and he was able to answer. ‘Give me a minute. I’m okay – just shocked. I’ll get up on my own.’

  She didn’t argue but waited quietly beside him whilst he gathered himself. He grasped the end of the bed and heaved. His knees almost buckled again and if she hadn’t steadied him he would have gone down a second time.

  ‘Two steps to the left and you’ll be in bed again.’

  He gritted his teeth and did as she said. She had to lift his legs from the floor and put them between the sheets as he didn’t have the strength to do it himself. It took him several minutes to feel well enough to speak.

  ‘It’s a good thing your dad gave me some pyjamas as I usually sleep starkers.’ This wasn’t what he’d intended to say but it was what he’d been thinking. He opened his eyes expecting her to look a bit embarrassed by his comment.

  She was laughing at him. ‘I’m a farm girl, I grew up with two brothers, there’s nothing you’ve got that I haven’t seen before.’

  Ten

  Jack’s eyes widened and he glanced at his crotch. He must think he’d exposed himself. She flushed scarlet. ‘Don’t worry, you remained decent throughout.’

  To cover her embarrassment, she dropped to the floor and began to scramble about collecting the assorted detritus spilled from the old suitcase. There were dozens of photographs of strangers strutting about in a grand house and for a moment she was puzzled.

  ‘These must be my mother’s missing family. I’m not sure if I told you that she comes from an aristocratic lot who disowned her when she married my dad.’ She was so engrossed in these she forgot the reason the suitcase was on the floor in the first place.

  ‘Pass me the envelope, Ellie, I’ve decided I want to read it after all. You can look at your relations later.’

  ‘Just a minute, I can’t leave all this on the floor in case Dad comes up.’ The brown envelope was lurking under some letters tied with a ribbon. She tossed it onto the bed without getting up.

  She placed the interesting photographs and letters to one side and then scooped up all the rest and dumped it back in the case. She snapped it shut again and heaved it on top of the wardrobe.

  ‘Are you sure you’re all right, Jack? I must get on with making our supper.’ There was no answer and for a horrible moment she thought he’d passed out again.

  She spun round. He was holding a single sheet of paper in his hand. From his expression whatever was written there was far worse than he’d imagined.

  ‘Can I see?’

  He shook his head. ‘Holy shit! No – you can’t read this. I wish that I hadn’t. There are some things you just don’t want to know about your family.’

  ‘Fair enough. Do you want me to return it to the suitcase?’

  ‘Not much point now – like Pandora’s box, the information’s out and can’t be put back.’

  She left him to his thoughts, not sure that his analogy was correct. He was the only person who knew what was on that sheet of paper so, as far as she was concerned, not much had changed.

  *

  The remainder of the evening she was so busy she didn’t have time to think about either the mysterious sheet of paper or the bundle of letters and photographs. Dad seemed his usual cheerful self and was pleased she’d had the initiative to employ a housekeeper.

  ‘I like Mrs B, good sort of woman. Maybe she’d like to live in? She could have the two rooms that your grandma used to use when she couldn’t get up the stairs anymore.’

  ‘Does that mean Mum isn’t coming back?’

  ‘I’m afraid it does, love. We agreed it was for the best. I’m going to set her up with her own bank account and she can live wherever she likes and mix with the toffee-nosed lot she seems to prefer to us ordinary folk.’

  ‘How did you meet? I’ve always wondered.’

  He smiled sadly. ‘At the races. A friend of mine had a runner in the same race as her father. We met in the owner’s paddock. It was just before the last war.’ He seemed lost in thought and she didn’t like to interrupt. Perhaps if he remembered the reasons he’d fallen in love with her all those years ago he might make more of a push to get her back.

  ‘Your ma got a bit tiddly and I had to step in when one of her lot tried to take advantage. You get your rebellious streak from her – because her pa was so against us courting it just made her more determined. In the end we eloped. She was overage so there was no difficulty getting married and my parents, your grandad and grandma were still alive then.’

  ‘You must have been very much in love with each other. It’s such a shame it has to end like this.’

  ‘To tell you the truth, Ellie, I don’t reckon your ma realised what would happen. She thought her family would accept me because my family had plenty of money even if they didn’t flash it about like they did. When they rejected her she wasn’t too bothered, as she expected me to buy her a big house so she could mix with all the snooty folk in the neighbourhood.’

  ‘Why didn’t you? This house isn’t big enough for two families. I certainly wouldn’t want to share a kitchen with my mother-in-law.’

  ‘I was young, didn’t think about things like that at the time. When I did, it was too late, Neil was on the way. Then I volunteered and Charlotte had to stay here without me. I didn’t expect to be gone for four years.’

  Ellie seemed to recall that she’d been told her grandfather had died just after her dad had returned. Of course, he could hardly move away and abandon Grandma then. Geor
ge had been born the following year and she had followed three years after that.

  ‘Will Mum stay in touch with us? I do love her even though sometimes it seems as if I don’t.’ Something occurred to her. ‘Is she so against alcohol now because of the way you met?’

  ‘Probably – I never asked her. We jogged along all right until she moved into another room. It’s been like living with a stranger ever since. I don’t want to speak ill of your mum, love, but she’s never been happy here. I reckon she regretted her impulsive decision within a few weeks of being married. She’ll be better off, and so will we.’

  ‘I suppose I’d better let Neil and George know what’s going on. Might be a bit awkward if one of them turns up and finds Jack living here and Mum moved out.’

  ‘I’m going to bed; will you lock up? Don’t forget the chickens.’ They didn’t embrace; her family had never been physically affectionate with each other.

  She made herself a cup of cocoa after she’d completed her evening tasks. This was a nightly ritual regardless of the weather. There was sufficient for two mugs so she made one for Jack as well. She put some biscuits on a plate with the cocoa, switched off the lights and carried the tray upstairs.

  There were five bedrooms in the farmhouse – four upstairs and one, the one that Mrs B might move into, next to the kitchen. There had always been a bathroom and lavatory upstairs in her lifetime and there was another washroom and WC next door to the scullery.

  Grand houses often had several bathrooms, and radiators in each room to keep them warm, but her grandfather hadn’t gone as far as that with Glebe Farm. In the winter they froze in their bedrooms like everyone else in the village. Fires were only allowed upstairs if someone was ill.

  She carried the tray into her room and put her cocoa down. She didn’t want any biscuits; he could have all those. The letters and photographs she’d dumped on her bed could be looked at later.

  There was a light coming from under Jack’s door so she knew he was awake.

  *

  Jack heard Ellie go past and was going to call out but didn’t want to disturb Mr Simpson. Then she tapped softly and he invited her in.

  ‘I’ve brought you some cocoa and biscuits. You don’t have to have them if you don’t want to.’

  ‘Thanks, it seems a long time since supper. I need to talk to you about the envelope. Why don’t you bring your drink in here?’

  ‘No, I won’t do that as I can’t stay long, Dad’s a light sleeper and wouldn’t approve of me being in here with you so late.’

  She put the tray on the bedside table and then moved to stand at the end of the bed. The door was still ajar. He couldn’t risk what he was going to say being overheard.

  ‘Close the door.’

  She stiffened at his abrupt command and didn’t move.

  ‘Please, Ellie, when you read it you’ll realise why your father mustn’t know.’

  Once the door was safely shut he handed her the sheet of paper; although he had read it several times he still had difficulty comprehending the contents.

  He watched her read it and saw her expression change from interest to horror. ‘This is so much worse than gangsters or robberies. Why would Joe have the names and signatures of the people who have joined Sir Oswald Mosley’s fascist party? I can’t believe he’s a fascist.’

  ‘Look at it again, Ellie. Don’t you recognise some of those traitors? Can you imagine what would happen if this list became public? For Christ’s sake, some of them are politicians, members of the aristocracy, important people in this country. I don’t know how my uncle got hold of this, but you can be damned sure he’s been using the information to fund his other business ventures.’

  She looked at the paper more closely. ‘This has been cut from a ledger. I think it comes from their membership book. Thank goodness we didn’t put an advert in a newspaper. What are you going to do with it? I wish you hadn’t opened the envelope or let me read it.’

  Before he could answer the door opened and her father appeared, looking none too pleased, in his pyjamas. Ellie was holding the page and didn’t have time to hide it.

  ‘Secret meetings? What’s that you got there, my girl? I’ll read that if you don’t mind.’

  ‘Don’t, Mr Simpson. You don’t want to know the contents. It’s a list of traitors. It’s why I was shot.’

  ‘If my daughter has read it then she’s in danger. What were you thinking of, letting her get involved? What you going to do with it?’

  ‘We were just talking about that when you came in. I think we must send it anonymously to Scotland Yard.’

  ‘Can I have a look? Bit late to worry about anyone else knowing.’ He didn’t wait for permission but removed the paper from Ellie’s fingers. He nodded as if unsurprised at what he saw. ‘You can’t do that, Jack, Ellie’s grandfather is on here.’

  ‘Did you already know about this?’ Jack wished he was strong enough to take charge of the situation but he wasn’t feeling great.

  Ellie looked almost as bad. ‘Which one is he, Dad? Mum never told me her maiden name or anything about her family.’

  ‘Sir Reginald Humphrey. He’s an MP, rich as Croesus, and thinks of the rest of the world as cannon fodder, or peasants to do his bidding. There were a lot like him in the last war. God help us if we get the same stupid buggers in charge when this next lot kick off.’

  ‘Do I have cousins and uncles and aunts on that side of the family?’

  ‘There were two sons, but both were killed in Flanders. Your mum is the only one left and you’re that man’s only granddaughter.’ His colour had returned and he jumped to his feet. ‘I should have worked it out myself. She’s gone home – Humphrey told her if she was prepared to sever the connection to me he’d take her back.’

  Ellie looked distraught. He didn’t blame her – she’d just learned her grandfather was a fascist and her mother had chosen him over her husband and children.

  ‘I need to think about this, Mr Simpson. We could always black out his name and then hand the list in, but there’s no guarantee they couldn’t work it out anyway.’

  ‘And if they did,’ she said, ‘it might well lead them to us.’ She headed for the door. ‘I found some photographs and letters which were hidden in the suitcase up there, Dad. I don’t really want to look at them anymore. I’ll give them to you.’

  He followed her from the room and neither of them said good night. Whatever they thought about Sir Reginald, Ellie and her brothers were a part of his family. Perhaps the best thing to do would be to burn the wretched thing and be done with it.

  She returned almost immediately. ‘I’m going to put the letter somewhere safer. Good night, see you in the morning.’

  The gunman had been sent by somebody on that list and was no doubt ransacking the office at the airfield this very minute. It wouldn’t take him long to discover Ellie’s name. He could possibly find his way here sometime tonight.

  Mr Simpson was a farmer – he was bound to have a shotgun somewhere on the premises.

  *

  Greg stayed the night in a seedy bed and breakfast in Romford, having had too much to drink to go back to London. He arrived home at midday to be informed there’d been a message from Wattisham telling him not to report for duty for another week.

  He rather thought he would drift back to Glebe Farm and spend time with Ellie. That Reynolds chap, even though he’d denied it, was taking too much interest in her and he didn’t want to be cut out before he’d really got to know her. He was caught up in family business until late afternoon but decided he would stick to his original plan.

  Stupidly he ran out of petrol on the way there and had to walk five miles with his can to the nearest garage. He cadged a lift back to his MG and when it was mobile again returned to the same place to fill the tank. He didn’t want to be caught out a second time.

  It was now too late to turn up unannounced and he couldn’t locate another B&B. He would kip down at the airfield and then arrive at breakfast
time. He missed the turning and had to reverse into a field. He was about to pull away when he realised he could see the hangar from here. There was another vehicle driving down the track.

  The aero club was in darkness – so who the hell was going there now? He turned the headlights and engine off and rummaged around in the glove compartment until he found his trusty torch. If he went across the field, he could reconnoitre and see exactly what was going on.

  His night vision was excellent and his eyes adjusted to the darkness within a few minutes. He had the torch in his hand and thought it might be more useful as a weapon than for illumination.

  The intruders had already broken into the office and were searching for something. They didn’t seem bothered if anyone heard them. The amount of racket they were making meant he could creep up to the building and sidle along so he could peer through the window.

  There were two men, both dressed in dark clothing with balaclavas over their faces. He couldn’t tackle both of them. They were working in silence, tossing things from shelves to the floor.

  ‘It’s not here. They must’ve found it. Obviously, you didn’t kill that man last night. We can’t go back without it this time,’ said one of the men in a surprisingly cultured voice. He’d expected them to be rough – not speak like him.

  The other one replied, – also with an upper-class accent. ‘We must go to this farm that’s mentioned here a couple of times in their account book. If it is there, and I can’t think where else it can be, we’ll scare the information out of the girl. What was it called again?’

  ‘Glebe Farm. We can hardly ask for directions so it might take time to find the bloody place.’ The man pointed his torch at his wrist. ‘Ten o’clock now – that means we’ve got a few hours before dawn. I don’t want to be anywhere near when it gets light.’

  Greg backed away from the window and then vaulted over the fence that surrounded the airfield and ran flat out to his car. He didn’t know how long he had before those bastards turned up at Ellie’s house. He had to be there before them. They had a telephone so he could ring the police as soon as he arrived. With luck they could barricade themselves in and remain safe until the local constabulary turned up.