The Spitfire Sisters

by Margaret Dickinson

  ‘So, Master Robert,’ Harry said, when Robert took his turn beside him. ‘What d’you think’s going to happen this year?’

  ‘I’m optimistic, Harry. It was in the papers on Christmas Eve that the American, General Eisenhower, has been appointed as Commander of the Allies. They’re planning to get ground troops back onto the mainland of Europe. Montgomery is to be his field commander. But it won’t happen for a few months. There’ll be an awful lot of preparations and, hopefully, without the enemy knowing where the invasion is going to be.’

  ‘I hope so,’ Harry said quietly. ‘But I should be there. I should be helping them and now I’m going to miss it all.’

  ‘You’re still in the RAF, so I expect once you’re fit and have an artificial leg, they’ll find you something to do.’

  ‘But it won’t be flying, will it?’

  ‘Perhaps not,’ Robert agreed. He was always truthful, even with his own seriously ill patients. ‘No doubt you could leave the RAF, if you wanted. I would give it some serious thought.’

  ‘I will. Thanks, Master Robert.’

  Through the early months of 1944, there was a new feeling of optimism throughout the country and none more so than in Doddington. They read and listened to the news avidly.

  ‘Have you seen this?’ Robert said to Alice. ‘Hitler has mobilized all children over the age of ten. The man’s a monster.’

  ‘He certainly is if all the tales about what’s happening to the Jews are to be believed. It’s – it’s – well, to be honest, I can’t think of a word strong enough to describe him and his cohorts.’

  ‘The sooner we get him stopped, the better,’ Robert said grimly.

  British and American troops invaded Italy and RAF bombers dropped thousands of tons of bombs on Berlin. The fightback had begun in earnest; Russia too had a momentous victory taking back Leningrad, which had been under siege for two years. But there was also the Japanese to contend with; an Allied campaign began to turn the tide in Burma.

  ‘Something’s going to happen before long. The Allies have to get back into Europe,’ Robert said.

  Harry had come home in February when the doctors declared that the wound had healed really well. Henrietta was soon planning a celebration.

  ‘Last Christmas was a bit odd with so many of the families missing and Boxing Day spent with Harry in hospital. Let’s have our traditional party at Easter instead.’

  ‘I wouldn’t bank on the others being able to get home then either, Mother,’ Robert warned her against disappointment, but Henrietta waved away his worries.

  ‘We’ll make the most of whoever can come.’

  The week before the planned party, Pips telephoned the hall. ‘Mother, would you mind if Mitch came to us for Easter? Johnny can’t get leave, so Mitch is going to be on his own.’

  ‘Of course, Philippa. He’ll be very welcome.’

  Henrietta was smiling smugly as she replaced the receiver.

  She had planned the party for lunchtime on Easter Sunday as if it were Boxing Day and had asked all the usual people.

  ‘They can all walk across when they come out of church,’ she said.

  Daisy, Pips and Mitch arrived on the evening of Good Friday. Luke, like Johnny, could not get leave.

  ‘Pips, have you got a moment?’ Robert said the following morning.

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Let’s go into my surgery. I want to talk to you about Harry.’

  ‘Oh, right. What is it?’ she asked as they sat down.

  Robert frowned. ‘Conrad tells me his wound has now healed well enough for him to be fitted with an artificial leg, but nothing seems to be happening.’

  ‘Where will he have to go?’

  ‘Roehampton, I think.’

  ‘In London?’

  Robert nodded. ‘I think the RAF will sort it all out, so I understand, but it seems that it is Harry himself who is putting it off.’

  ‘Ah,’ Pips said with feeling. Then, with a chuckle, she added, ‘Being too well looked after by his mother, I shouldn’t wonder. Right, I’ll see him before I go back, but after tomorrow’s party. I wouldn’t want to spoil that by getting a little – um – firm with him.’

  Now it was Robert who chuckled.

  Fifty-Eight

  Late on Easter Sunday morning, Harry arrived in style for the party, which was really in his honour. Sam had managed to scrounge a battered bath chair from someone he knew in the next village and he pushed him all the way from their cottage and then carried him up the front steps and into the Great Hall. Harry sat in a chair at the end of the room and looked for all the world as if he were holding court. Perhaps he was, for everyone came in turn to sit beside him for a while.

  ‘Now then, old chap,’ Robert said, taking the seat next to him. ‘How’s it going?’

  Robert was the one person Harry knew would really understand how he felt when, every so often, his natural ebullience deserted him and he fell into a dark place. But surrounded by family and friends, today was a good day.

  ‘Up and down a bit, if I’m honest.’ Robert nodded understandingly, as Harry went on, ‘Everyone’s been so wonderfully kind and I feel guilty that I sometimes get a bit impatient with them all fussing over me.’

  Robert chuckled. ‘I understand exactly what you mean, but stick with it. They all mean well.’

  Harry sighed. ‘I know and I should be grateful. That’s why I feel guilty because the opposite would be so very lonely. D’you know, little Kitty still visits every day, even when she’s had a long day at work on the farm? It’s sometimes gone nine o’clock when she comes, but she never misses.’

  ‘It’ll get easier. When you get your undercarriage back and can get about on your own you won’t feel so dependent on anyone else. How’s the stump healing?’

  ‘Very nicely, Dr Everton says. He thinks I’ll soon be ready to go and have a proper leg fitted.’ Conrad had been attending Harry since he’d come home. Robert did not tell him that he already knew this; in fact, Conrad had said he was ready now.

  Robert nodded. ‘It’ll be a lengthy process, I’m afraid, but you’ll get there, Harry.’

  ‘So, you don’t think I’ll be well enough to have one last crack at the enemy?’

  ‘Best not, old chap.’ Being a doctor, Robert could be blunt as he sought to steer Harry away from thoughts about the RAF. ‘Has anything been said about the injury to your face?’

  Harry stared at him. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Have you heard about Archibald McIndoe?’

  ‘Oh, the plastic surgeon fellow? Yes, but he only does burns victims, doesn’t he? You know, pilots who’ve been trapped in their burning aircraft.’

  Robert shrugged. ‘I think he does anything to do with scarred tissue. It’s worth enquiring, if you’re interested.’

  Harry was thoughtful for a few moments before saying slowly, ‘I think I’ll concentrate on getting back on my feet first, but thank you for thinking of it.’

  ‘Let me know if you change your mind. My door is always open, even if you only feel the need for a chat.’

  ‘Shall we go riding tomorrow morning?’ Pips suggested to Daisy and Mitch as they helped clear up after the party.

  ‘That’d be nice,’ Daisy said. ‘I’ll warn Jake.’

  The following morning, a bright but breezy day, they set off through the fields and lanes.

  ‘My goodness,’ Daisy said as she looked about her. ‘Granny and Jake have been busy. They’ve certainly been “digging for victory” in a big way.’

  Pips laughed. ‘It’ll take you a long time to get it back to how it was after the war.’

  ‘We’ll probably leave a lot of it as it is now, though it’d be nice to have the croquet lawn and the flower gardens back to how they were.’ Daisy chuckled. ‘It was amazing to see just how many cabbages the area yielded last autumn. I think we must’ve kept the whole village in cabbages for weeks.’

  ‘It really is a beautiful part of the world,’ Mitch murmured
. ‘What d’you plan to do after the war, Pips? Shall you stay in London – or come home?’

  Pips wrinkled her forehead. ‘D’you know, Mitch, I really haven’t thought much about it at all? We just seem so engrossed about winning the war that we can’t see beyond doing just that. We’re in a little world of our own down there.’ She paused and then glanced at him as the three of them rode together at a gentle walking pace so that they could talk. ‘D’you think they’ll ever open Brooklands up again?’

  Mitch shrugged. ‘I honestly don’t know. There’s been a lot of damage done. It’ll take major repairs to get the track fit for racing again.’ He paused and then asked, ‘And what about you, Daisy? What are you going to do after the war?’

  ‘Marry Johnny,’ she said promptly and they all laughed, but then Pips said quite seriously, ‘But what about running the estate? I’m sure Granny’s still counting on you to do that. She is getting on, you know.’

  ‘I won’t let her down. I promise you that.’

  ‘So, how’s it going to work? I mean, what will Johnny do?’

  Daisy chuckled and tapped the side of her nose. ‘We have plans, Aunty Pips, but they’re top secret at the moment and when we’re ready to share them, Granny must be the first to know.’

  Pips nodded. ‘Fair enough. I can respect that. Now, let’s give these horses a good gallop before we have to go back for lunch. Come on, race you to the far side of the field and then I have to get back. I have to see a man about a leg and, Daisy, I want you to come with me. I just might need your support.’

  Daisy laughed. ‘I doubt it, but of course I’ll come with you.’

  ‘So, Harry, how are you?’

  Pips and Daisy sat facing him as he sat near the fire that burned in the range winter and summer.

  ‘Fed up that I can’t fly any more and that I’m out of the war.’

  ‘What makes you so sure? What about Douglas Bader, he . . .?’

  ‘Now don’t you start. Everyone keeps mentioning Bader ever since this happened. One of my RAF chums actually calls me “half Bader” since I’ve only lost one leg.’

  Pips stared at him. He was nothing like the ebullient Harry she remembered. Now he was morose, apathetic and sunk in self-pity. He must have been putting on a bit of a show at the party the previous day. She frowned, pondering how to deal with him. Shooting straight from the hip had always been her method. It had worked with Robert, but would it with Harry?

  She took a deep breath and decided to risk it. ‘Well, it’s high time you got up off your backside and onto your one leg and got on with things. You can get about on crutches, can’t you?’

  Harry shrugged. ‘What’s there to get on with? I don’t think the RAF are going to let me fly again. Certainly not flying bombers with six other chaps being my responsibility, and that’s all I know.’

  ‘If that’s the case, then you should start to think about what you are going to do. I expect Mr Dawson would have you back. You probably wouldn’t be able to shoe a horse, but there’s plenty of other work you could do. Now, have you had any word about getting an artificial leg fitted?’

  Harry was quiet for a few moments before admitting reluctantly, ‘I got a letter a couple of weeks ago. They say I can go down to Roehampton to be assessed.’

  ‘Right. I’ll telephone them first thing tomorrow morning and see if it’s all right for me to take you down on Wednesday. That’s when we’re going back. If it is, you’re coming with me.’

  He stared at her and then suddenly he grinned. ‘Yes, Aunty Pips. Whatever you say, Aunty Pips.’

  Pips sighed with relief, but all she said was, ‘I’ll let you know what they say.’

  As Pips and Daisy walked back to the hall, Daisy said, ‘Phew! That was a bit of a risk.’

  ‘Wasn’t it just? I must admit I was holding my breath.’

  ‘But it did the trick.’

  ‘Yes, I think it did.’

  ‘D’you think he’ll go back into the RAF if they’ll have him?’

  ‘One step at a time, Daisy. Literally!’

  ‘’Lo, Harry.’

  ‘Good Lord, you’re not here again, are you, Kitty?’ But he was grinning as he said it. ‘Haven’t you got anything better to do than visit an ugly cripple?’

  Kitty sat down in front of him and stared at him, taking in every detail of the damaged left-hand side of his face and the stump of his left leg propped up on a stool. She was a gentle soul and found it very difficult to be firm with him like she’d heard Miss Pips had been.

  ‘If it hadn’t been for her,’ Peggy had whispered to the girl when she’d arrived, ‘he’d still be sitting there moping and feeling sorry for himself. As it is, he’s agreed to go with Miss Pips on Wednesday to see about his leg. I think that’s how we’ve all got to try and treat him. I find it very hard, but me an’ Sam were talking last night and have decided that’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to be firm with him.’

  Kitty had sighed. ‘I’ll try, Mrs Nuttall.’

  Now, sitting in front of him and trying to think how to answer his blunt question, Kitty took a deep breath. ‘No, I haven’t at the moment, actually.’

  For a brief moment, Harry glared at her and poor Kitty quivered inside. Had she pushed it too far? He wouldn’t expect such a flippant answer from her of all people.

  Then, suddenly, Harry burst out laughing. ‘I asked for that, didn’t I?’

  She smiled. ‘You did a bit.’

  ‘It’s just so boring sitting here all day.’

  ‘So why are you? You can get about now.’

  ‘Mebbe. But there’s nowt I can do. I can’t stand on one leg to shoe a horse, can I?’

  ‘No, but you ought to be moving a bit more, ready for when you get your proper leg. You won’t need crutches or even a walking stick then. You’ll really be back on your feet.’ Again, she took a deep breath before daring to tease him. ‘And chasing after all the girls again, I expect.’

  But this time Harry did not smile. ‘What about this?’ He touched his injured face. ‘I’m hardly the good-looking lad I was before, now am I?’

  Kitty stared at him. Very softly and completely serious she said, ‘Harry Nuttall, if a girl truly loves you, that won’t matter a jot. Not your face, not your leg – nothing. You’re alive and you’re still you . . .’ She stood up now, her face flushed and her eyes sparkling with an anger that little Kitty Page rarely showed. ‘You should be thankful for that because everyone who loves you has been thanking the good Lord every day that you’ve come back to us. A lot haven’t and they’ve left loved ones who’ll grieve the rest of their lives for them.’

  She turned and ran from the room, tears running down her face, startling Peggy as she hurried past her in the scullery and out of the back door. Peggy dried her hands and went into the kitchen. ‘Whatever have you been saying to Kitty? She rushed past me just now in tears.’

  Harry blinked as if slightly mesmerized and stared at his mother. ‘I think Kitty must be in love with me.’

  Peggy cast her eyes to the ceiling and shook her head. ‘Hallelujah! Has it really taken you all this time to realize that? I despair of you, Harry Nuttall. I really do.’

  Fifty-Nine

  When Pips called for Harry on the Wednesday morning, Peggy greeted her outside the cottage.

  ‘Oh Miss Pips,’ she said, clasping her hand. There were tears in Peggy’s eyes, but they were tears of gratitude. ‘We don’t know how to thank you. We didn’t know how to deal with him – how to reach him. We’re all following your lead now and trying to be a bit firmer with him. It seems to be working.’

  ‘Peggy, dear, I took a bit of a risk, I know, talking to him so bluntly, but sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind, as they say. I’m just thankful it worked. Now, we’d better be off. Is he ready?’

  ‘Yes, I’ve packed his suitcase. When Betty brought the message from you yesterday that he could go, she said he might have to stay a while.’

  Pips nodded. ‘Yes, they h
aven’t said how long. I expect at this stage they perhaps don’t know themselves.’

  ‘As long as he gets his leg and gets back on his feet, I don’t care how long it takes.’

  It took two weeks for his leg to fitted and adjusted to be comfortable and for Harry to prove to them that he could do everything they required him to do before they let him come home, complete with new leg.

  ‘Oh Harry, you look normal,’ Peggy exclaimed, as he walked into the cottage wearing proper shoes and socks and his half-empty trouser leg no longer flapping.

  Then swiftly, she added, ‘I’m sorry, that sounds awful.’

  Harry chuckled. ‘It’s the best thing you could have said, Mam.’

  By nightfall, the whole village, including everyone at the hall, knew Harry was home, complete with artificial leg.

  ‘He’s got a bit of a limp,’ Bess told everyone proudly, ‘but you wouldn’t guess he’d got a false leg if you didn’t know.’ But all Len Dawson said when he saw him was, ‘When are you coming back to work now all this stupidity is over? I could use an experienced pair of hands.’

  ‘I haven’t been officially demobbed yet. I’ve to report back next week and see what they say.’

  Len grunted. ‘Well, don’t do anything damned silly like wanting to stay on in the RAF.’

  By the third evening he was back home, Harry said, ‘Where’s Kitty? She hasn’t been to see me since I got back.’

  Peggy avoided his gaze. ‘Oh – um – I expect she’s busy. There’s always a lot to do on the farm.’

  Harry frowned. ‘But she’s not working in the evenings, surely. Why hasn’t she called in?’

  ‘I really couldn’t say,’ Peggy said off-handedly.

  ‘Then I’d better go and find out.’

  He walked the short distance between where he lived and the Pages’ cottage, smiling and waving to anyone who saw him. Kitty opened the door and gasped to see him standing there on two feet and so smart in his RAF uniform. Her gaze swept him up and down.