‘Well, perhaps—’
Sam held up his hand. ‘No, no, I’m only joking. I’ll hold the fort here. You two go and enjoy yourselves. How are you going to get there? By train?’
Luke grinned. ‘No, on my motorcycle. Harry will ride pillion.’
‘Oh,’ Peggy said. ‘Do be careful, it’s a long way.’
‘We’ll be fine, Mam. Don’t worry.’
There was really nothing Len could do to stop them, though he grumbled and groused and made his feelings abundantly clear. ‘Always wanting to go gallivanting.’
They set off after work on the Friday evening and sped down to London with Harry clinging onto Luke’s waist. It was late when they arrived but both Pips and George were waiting up for them.
‘The girls are here, but they’ve gone to bed,’ Pips said in a low voice. ‘They’ve both been working so hard, they’re shattered. Now, come into the kitchen. I’ve made sandwiches for you.’
Everyone was up early the following morning and Pips listened to the non-stop chatter between the four youngsters as she cooked breakfast for everyone.
‘Are we going down by train, Aunty Pips?’ Daisy asked.
‘No. George’s car is a big one. You four will easily be able to squash into the back seat.’
At Brooklands they were met by Milly and Paul, who took them to the best viewpoint to watch the display.
Harry gazed around him in wonderment and asked all sorts of questions about the car and motorcycle racing and about the various flying schools that operated there.
‘Uncle Mitch has a school here and Jeff Pointer works for him,’ Daisy explained. ‘He’s an instructor. He taught Aunty Pips to fly and then me.’
‘He took me up too,’ Luke said.
‘And me,’ Gill put in.
‘Can I get a flight whilst we’re here, d’you think?’
‘Don’t be cheeky, Harry,’ Luke said swiftly. ‘Aunty Pips is doing enough for us.’
‘Oh, she won’t mind,’ Daisy said airily. ‘Though I don’t think you’ll get one today with the display on. But I’ll ask Aunty Pips if we can come back tomorrow, if you like.’
‘No, you’d better not, Dais,’ Harry said. ‘I wasn’t thinking. I’d be in trouble back home if they knew I’d asked.’
‘Hello, you lot,’ a cheerful voice said behind them and Luke and Harry groaned inwardly, but they plastered smiles on their faces.
‘Hello, Johnny.’
‘It’s great to see you all here. Hi, Daisy – Gill. We’re in for a real treat. We’re definitely going to see the Spitfire fly and we might see a Wellington, though whether one will fly, I don’t know.’
‘What’s a Wellington?’ Harry said before he thought not to show his ignorance.
But Johnny was not one to embarrass anyone and he said kindly, ‘It’s a bomber being made by Vickers at their factory here. Now, where’s Aunty Pips? I’ve got a message for her from my uncle.’
‘She’s over there with Uncle George, Milly and Paul,’ Daisy said, pointing.
‘Ah, right. I must have a word. See you all later.’
‘Not if we can help it,’ Harry muttered, though only Luke heard him and cast him a warning glance.
They watched Johnny cross the grass to talk to Pips. They saw him gesticulating towards them and then Pips nodded. Johnny turned, grinned at them and gave them the thumbs-up sign.
‘What’s he up to?’ Harry muttered.
‘I don’t know,’ Luke murmured. ‘But we’re about to find out. Aunty Pips is coming over.’
Pips was smiling as she reached them. ‘You’re all in luck. Mitch has sent word that if we come back tomorrow, he’ll treat you all to a free flight. Jeff will take you up one by one.’
The four young people glanced at each other. ‘That’s very generous of him,’ Luke said. ‘Is he sure?’
‘There’s one thing about Mitch Hammond, Luke. If he didn’t mean it, he wouldn’t offer. And Milly’s also said that after the display today, her father has given permission for her to take us into the Vickers factory where you can see aeroplanes being built. Now, come along, let’s ensure we’ve a good place to watch the display. I think it’s about to start.’
The spectators were entranced by the Spitfire. They watched it performing amazing, acrobatic manoeuvres and listened to the sound of its engine.
‘It sounds like a huge cat purring,’ Harry said.
‘What a wonderful aeroplane,’ Luke muttered, his eyes shining. ‘It’d be magnificent in aerial combat. I hope I get to fly one of those one day.’
Daisy sighed. ‘Me too. Though I can’t see it happening for a girl.’
‘You never know. Maybe Uncle Mitch will buy one and let you have a go.’
Daisy chuckled. ‘I think a Spitfire would be out of the reach of even Uncle Mitch’s pocket.’
As the display ended, Milly rounded everyone up and led them towards the huge Vickers factory.
Stepping inside, they all gasped to see row upon row of the huge aircraft in various stages of production. They marvelled at the massive skeletal fuselages in the process of being covered with fabric.
‘Now, that’s what I call an aeroplane,’ Harry said. ‘That’s what I’d like to fly.’
‘But they’re bombers, Harry,’ Daisy said. ‘You wouldn’t want to drop bombs on people, would you?’
‘If we were attacked or we go to war, I’d do anything to defend our country. Anything at all.’ For once they could all see that Harry – the ebullient joker – was very serious.
‘Let’s hope that never happens,’ Pips said. ‘Now, come along, let’s find something to eat.’
As she shepherded them towards the clubhouse, George and Milly fell behind. ‘Does Pips realize how serious the situation is, George?’ Milly asked.
‘Of course she does, but, like the rest of the nation, we’re trying to get on with our lives until something happens.’
‘But behind the scenes we’re getting prepared, aren’t we?’
Solemnly, George nodded. ‘I’m very much afraid, Milly dear, that it’ll all become very necessary.’
Milly’s glance went to the two young men walking with Daisy and Gill in front of them.
‘And it’ll all fall on their shoulders, won’t it?’
Huskily, George said, ‘I’m afraid so and even the girls will be involved.’
Milly nodded. ‘I know, but at least the girls won’t have to fly those aeroplanes we’ve just been watching because, magnificent though they are, let’s be honest about it, in a war situation, they’re nothing more than killing machines.’
George nodded solemnly and, not for the first time, he marvelled at Milly’s intuition. As Pips had always said, there was a lot more to Milly than people gave her credit for.
‘So, did you both have a good time?’ Sam asked Harry and Luke when they returned home.
‘Dad – it was wonderful.’ Harry, his eyes shining, launched into a detailed account of all that they had seen and done. Smiling, Luke let him talk. It had all been so new and fascinating to Harry.
‘And did you enjoy the flying?’ Peggy asked.
‘It was superb. Now I know what Daisy and Luke have been rabbiting on about, but I’d like to fly in one of the big bombers we saw.’
Peggy shuddered and glanced at Sam, who said slowly, ‘I don’t want to sound mean, Harry, old chap, but I hope you never get the chance.’
Far from taking offence, Harry nodded, solemnly. ‘Yes, I know what you’re saying, Dad, because if I did, then it would mean that we’re at war.’
Sixteen
Despite a vague promise between England and France to defend Czechoslovakia, in September it was agreed that the Sudeten region of that country – a region mainly inhabited by German-speaking people – should be handed to Germany. On the last day of the month, the Prime Minister, Neville Chamberlain, arrived back from his talks in Munich waving a piece of paper which, he declared, bore Herr Hitler’s signature and promised ‘peace for o
ur time’.
‘And if you believe that,’ Robert muttered morosely, ‘you’ll believe anything.’
In November, the vicious attacks on Jews, their synagogues and property – a night of violence throughout Germany that became known as Kristallnacht, the ‘Night of Broken Glass’ – made Robert confide in his sister, ‘There’s going to be a war, Pips. I can sense it.’
‘I know,’ she said sadly, ‘so can I. Oh Robert, what is going to happen to our young ones?’
It was a question he could not answer.
The telephone rang whilst Pips and George were finishing a leisurely Saturday morning breakfast.
‘Aunty Pips?’
‘Hello, Daisy. Is everything all right?’
‘Not really.’ There was a pause before she added in a rush, ‘I thought you’d like to know. Johnny rang me. Uncle Mitch has had an accident. He’s in hospital.’
Pips felt as if she’d been thumped in the chest. ‘What happened?’
‘He was testing a car out at Brooklands which he and Jeff had been repairing. Something went wrong mechanically and he crashed into the wall.’
‘Is he badly hurt?’
‘Broken leg and concussion, Johnny said.’
‘What hospital is he in?’
‘The London.’
‘I’ll go and see him.’
‘I thought you might.’
They spoke for a little longer before ringing off.
‘I have to go to the hospital,’ Pips said, as she sat down to finish eating her toast and marmalade.
George looked up, his face concerned. ‘Why?’
‘It’s Mitch, he’s been hurt in a car accident at Brooklands.’
Now George frowned. ‘But I thought we were driving to the coast today. We won’t get many more nice days for an outing. Can’t it wait until tomorrow?’
Pips stared at him, not quite able to believe what she was hearing. ‘No,’ she snapped. ‘It can’t.’
George shrugged. ‘Then I’ll come with you.’
‘No need. You enjoy your day.’
She rose from the table and hurried back to the bedroom to wash and dress. There had always been a wariness between George and Mitch, but this was the first time that George had shown real jealousy. She left the flat without speaking to him again and took a cab to the hospital.
‘I can only allow you five minutes,’ the ward sister said. ‘He’s not bad enough to be allowed visits outside the normal hours.’
‘Thank goodness for that,’ Pips said and then added, ‘How badly hurt is he?’
‘A bump on the head and a broken leg. He’ll be in plaster for about six weeks, but after that he should be as good as new.’
Pips crept into the side ward. Mitch was propped up on pillows, his eyes closed. She moved to the side of the bed and looked down at him. His black hair was tousled and his face was paler than his normal weather-beaten appearance. As if feeling someone was standing beside the bed, Mitch opened his eyes. It took him a moment to focus and he swept his hand across his forehead. ‘Pips? Am I dreaming?’
‘No, it’s me. I can’t stay long, but I’ll come back later during proper visiting hours.’ She sat down at the side of the bed. ‘How did this happen?’
Mitch shook his head slightly and then frowned as if the movement had hurt. ‘Jeff and I bought an old banger to do up together, which we intended to race. I was testing her out on the track and something went wrong. I don’t know what yet, but Jeff will find out.’
‘Well, you won’t be driving for a while. Is there anything you want bringing in?’
‘I don’t think so. I’m not thinking very clearly yet. Johnny came in last night and brought my shaving tackle and a clean pair of pyjamas.’
‘I’d better go now, but I’ll come back this afternoon, though I expect that once word gets around, you’ll have a stream of visitors, especially your string of girlfriends.’
She rose and leaned across the bed to kiss his forehead. As she drew back, the look of undisguised longing in his eyes startled her for a moment, but, recovering her composure, she patted his hand and said cheerfully, ‘See you later. Be good.’
Now his brown eyes twinkled and he grinned. ‘Can’t be much else – unfortunately.’
But his gaze followed her as she left the room and, as the door closed behind her, he lay back against the pillows, closed his eyes and sighed.
‘Why on earth are you going to see him this afternoon?’
‘Because I was only allowed to see him for five minutes.’
‘You don’t need to go again today, surely. We still have time for a drive out somewhere.’
Pips glanced at George. ‘We’ll go out tomorrow. Mitch will have loads more visitors when word spreads. He won’t need me to go then.’
George cast her a strange look, one that said, ‘Do you really believe that?’ Then he turned away and went into the bedroom to change. When he reappeared, he said, ‘Unless you want me to come with you, I’ll spend the afternoon with Rebecca, if she’s free.’
‘Don’t you want to see him? He’s our friend, not just mine.’
He moved close, put his forefinger under her chin and said quietly, ‘My darling Pips, if you believe that, then you can believe anything. For a very clever woman, you can sometimes be surprisingly obtuse.’ He kissed her lightly on the lips. ‘I’ll see you this evening.’
He left the room, leaving Pips staring at the closed door. Then she shrugged her shoulders, muttered, ‘Oh phooey’, and began her household chores before returning to the hospital in the afternoon.
As she had predicted, there were several people crowded into his room: Jeff, with an anxious look on his face, Muriel and Pattie with bunches of grapes and magazines – and Johnny.
‘Well, I am popular all of a sudden. Almost worth breaking my leg for.’
He looked much better than when she had seen him that morning. He had more colour in his face and his hair was neatly combed; much more like the handsome Mitch she knew.
‘You sit here, Pips,’ Muriel said, moving from the chair at the side of the bed.
‘No, no, sit still, Muriel. We’ll probably get shooed out in a minute. Too many visitors at once and all that.’
‘Just keep the noise down,’ Mitch said, ‘and maybe they’ll leave us alone. We’re hardly disturbing other patients.’
‘Is this a private room?’ Pattie asked.
‘I’ve really no idea,’ Mitch said, glancing round. ‘But I certainly didn’t ask for one.’
‘Er – that was me,’ Jeff said, seeming a little embarrassed. ‘I felt so guilty that you’d had an accident in the car I’d been repairing.’
‘We were both working on it,’ Mitch said. ‘No one’s to blame. Have you found out what happened?’
Jeff shook his head. ‘Not yet – not till I know you’re all right. Well, as right as you can be. Mitch, I’m so sorry . . .’
Mitch held up his hand to silence him. ‘Not another word. Just bring me in a bottle next time and keep wheeling the ladies in.’
Muriel laughed. ‘Oh, there’ll be a troop of those very soon, I promise you. We pulled rank to get here before the others, although’ – she glanced archly at Pips – ‘you made it to first place, like you often did. Thank goodness you’re not racing any more.’
There was almost a party atmosphere in Mitch’s hospital room, and because it was a private one none of the nursing staff interfered. At the end of visiting time, they said their farewells one by one, Pips being the last to leave with Johnny.
As she bent to kiss his cheek, Mitch caught hold of her hand. ‘I don’t want to be the cause of trouble between you and George, but do come again, if you can.’
‘No trouble,’ Pips said tartly. ‘He’s not my keeper.’ She straightened up and smiled. ‘I was going to ruffle your hair but as it’s been combed so beautifully, I’d better not. Which pretty nurse did that for you?’
‘The blonde one,’ he said, with a saucy wink.
&
nbsp; Pips chuckled. ‘You never change – I’m pleased to say. Right, Johnny, the bell went a few minutes ago. We’d better go.’
They walked down the corridor and out of the building together.
‘I won’t be able to get to see him until next weekend,’ Johnny said. ‘Will you be able to visit?’
‘Of course, but I don’t think he’ll be short of visitors, Johnny.’
‘Maybe not. But there are visitors – and visitors.’
‘Have you time to come and have dinner with us?’
‘That’s kind of you, but no, thank you. I must call and see my mother before I go back to camp.’ He paused and then asked, ‘Has Uncle Mitch told you about her?’
‘No, he’s not mentioned her for years. Is she – ill?’
‘No – far from it. She remarried some time back and now they’re planning to emigrate to Australia.’
‘Oh.’ Pips couldn’t think what to say. The young man was giving no indication as to how he was feeling about the news.
‘So, I’m going to spend a few days with her before they leave next week.’
‘Will they be selling the house?’
Johnny nodded.
‘I’m sorry, Johnny. You’ll miss them.’
‘I’ll miss my mother – but not him. We’ve never got on.’
‘So – where will you go when you’re on leave?’
‘Uncle Mitch says I’m to look upon his place as my home.’ He grinned. ‘Both of them.’ Mitch had a house in Weybridge, quite near to Brooklands, but he also had an apartment in London not far from where Pips and George lived.
‘You’d always be welcome to stay with us, if you ever needed to.’
‘That’s kind of you, thank you. And now I must go. Mother will be waiting for me.’ He kissed Pips on both cheeks and hurried away through the teeming crowds on the pavements.
‘His recuperation seems to be taking a long time,’ George remarked three weeks later. Mitch had been at his flat in London for just over a week and Pips had been visiting him every other day to help.
Pips forced herself to laugh. ‘Don’t be so grumpy, George, but you’ll be pleased to know I’m taking him down to Weybridge at the weekend. He has a daily help there who will look after him.’
The Spitfire Sisters Page 10