Into The Unknown

by Lorna Peel

  Stretching out her arms, she touched his face as he neared her. He hugged her and his lips found their way to her cheek again.

  “I think we’d better stand up, my behind is numb.”

  “Good idea.” He chuckled. “Are you all right? I’m going to lift you under the arms.”

  His hands found her shoulders and slid underneath. Getting to their feet, they laughed.

  “Back to the car?” she suggested.

  “Definitely.” He clasped her hand and they made their way back across the square. Once in the car and rubbing her hands together, she heard him searching for something. “I have a hip flask somewhere. Oh, here it is.” He unscrewed it and placed it in her hands. “Drink some of this.”

  She took a sip, feeling the whisky slide all the way down. That felt good, she was beginning to feel her feet again. She handed the flask back and heard him drink.

  “Thank you for an interesting evening.” She laughed. “When do you have to be back at base?”

  “Eight o’clock.”

  “I’ll write, I promise.”

  “Thank you,” he whispered.

  Reaching for her hand, he kissed the palm. She curled her fingers up to cup his cheek and turn his face towards hers, but he leaned forward to start the car. Her fingers slid across his lips and she was forced to take her hand back. Feeling frustrated and puzzled at his overly-gallant behaviour, she sat quietly beside him as he drove them home.

  Chapter Four

  What an evening. Charlie cringed, thinking of the condom, as they sat in the car outside number 26. What must she think of him? His worries were eased a little when she rested her head on his shoulder and he put an arm around her.

  “Do you want another drink?” he asked.

  “No, I’d better not.” She cleared her throat and he tensed. She wasn’t going to give him the brush-off, was she? “You honestly don’t mind my age do you, Charlie?” she added.

  He hesitated before answering. It had been a shock. She was barely out of school and was only a couple of years older than Clive. But she was very mature for her age and – his heart began to thump – she was beautiful.

  “No, I don’t mind,” he replied, not quite sure if he was lying or not, and heard her sigh with relief.

  “One thing, though,” she added. “Please don’t treat me like a little girl. I know to you I’m only nineteen, but I do know what men are like. Last Christmas I went to a dance and I met a man there. He thought I was older, too, and he tried to take advantage of me.”

  Charlie clenched his fists. “What did he do?”

  “He got me tipsy and he was taking my clothes off when my friends found me. They managed to fight him off. What I’m trying to say is that I may be grown-up in some things but in others, I’m not. I do know what men want but I’m not ready yet. I wouldn’t be saying this if there wasn’t a war on but, if you want sex with another woman, Charlie, then do. I like you very much, but he scared me. I can’t give you what you want yet.”

  Charlie rubbed his forehead as he listened to her. He couldn’t even begin to compare her to Doris, or the rest of them. “I don’t expect you to,” he whispered.

  “But do it with others, Charlie,” she begged. “With those who can give…” She tailed off. “I’m sorry.”

  “No, don’t be. There have been women, but—”

  “Good, don’t change,” she said and relaxed back against him as if it was all settled.

  But it wasn’t. It only made him feel worse. Beside him was a girl – no, a woman – he was beginning to feel very strongly about. But he was in a hands-off situation. She was even telling him to carry on with Doris and the rest. He rubbed the side of his nose. This was a tough one. In the distance, a clock rang out once.

  “I’d better let you go home,” she said and straightened up. “Goodnight, Charlie, and thank you.”

  Usually, he would have kissed the woman beside him, but he couldn’t kiss Kate. She wasn’t just any woman and, the way he was feeling, he probably wouldn’t be able to stop at a simple kiss.

  “Goodnight,” he whispered and fumbled for and kissed the back of her hand instead. About to get out of the car and help her out, he felt her hand on his shoulder pulling him back. “What is it?”

  “Why won’t you kiss me properly, Charlie?” she demanded.

  “Kate…”

  “Don’t you want to?”

  “Of course I want to! It’s just—”

  “My age?”

  “No,” he replied, too quickly, and pulled an anguished face into the darkness.

  “Charlie, you either don’t mind my age and you want to kiss me, or you do and you don’t.”

  “Kate, you are beautiful,” he told her. “But I don’t think you have a clue what effect you have on men and that is because of your age. If I kissed you now, I don’t think I’d be able to stop, and you deserve so much more than that, and I would hate myself.”

  There was a long silence and he closed his eyes. Well, that’s that, then. He heard her seat squeak as she moved.

  “I see,” she said quietly. “Well, thank you for being so blunt, Charlie.” She opened the door and got out. “I’ll be waiting for your sanitised letters,” she told him and slammed it shut.

  “Kate!” He threw open the car door. “They won’t be.”

  “No?” she replied shortly and he heard her feet on the gravel of the drive and had to run after her. “How else will someone with my emotional immaturity know what you mean, then?”

  “Kate, for goodness sake.” He reached out for her in the darkness, found her coat, and pulled her back against him. He turned her around, slid his hands up her body to her face and kissed her lips, her cheeks and her eyes before letting her go. He forced himself to stand back from her, breathing heavily, and hearing her own deep intakes of breath. “My letters won’t be sanitised,” he told her breathlessly. “And I hope yours won’t be either. Now go inside, it’s cold.”

  He sat in the car for a long time after she’d gone indoors, congratulating himself on his self-control, but wondering at the same time what the hell had he got himself into.

  Arriving at his base, Charlie found it drenched with water from melting snow. If it froze again the place would be like an ice-rink.

  He paraded for morning roll call, listening to water dripping off the mess hut roof before attending the first of many lectures on meteorology. There would be plenty of jokes and comments on this, he predicted and was proved right as he sat down in the Officers’ Mess that evening.

  “I don’t need to be told that it’s bloody wet,” his friend Billy grumbled. “Eh, Charlie?”

  “No,” he replied and glanced out of a window as snow slid off a roof opposite.

  “Not saying much, are you? Heavy night last night?”

  Depends what you mean by heavy, he thought, before answering, “No,” and reaching into a pocket for a packet of cigarettes and lighting one.

  “Been with any nice women, eh?” Billy was trying to encourage him to spill the beans. “Come on, Charlie, don’t let us down.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” he muttered and drew on the cigarette.

  “Oh.” Billy laughed. “Her boyfriend find out? Her husband?”

  “No, she doesn’t have either.”

  “Getting somewhere at last.” Billy grinned at his audience before turning back to Charlie. “Well?”

  “Well what?” he snapped. “Billy, mind your own bloody business for once, will you?” He sprang out of his chair and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

  He went out of his way to avoid Doris, despite what Kate had told him about seeing other women. As time went on, Doris clearly noticed, as he found her sitting on the bed in his room waiting for him one afternoon.

  “Have I developed fleas?” she demanded, getting to her feet. “Or is it now that you’re a Flight Lieutenant, you’re too good for someone who works in a kitchen?”

  “Doris.” He closed the door not kn
owing what to say.

  “You haven’t spoken to me since before Christmas, Charlie. It is now the first of May, and don’t tell me you’ve been too busy because you haven’t. I’ve seen you coming and going from those bloody lectures. I’ve seen you smoking away in the Officers’ Mess. What’s going on, Charlie?”

  He was forced to think quickly. “My father’s joined up,” he told her. “He’s working in hospitals now, and he can’t get condoms anymore,” he added, telling her a white lie. “I didn’t want to without them.”

  “Oh.” She calmed down a little. “But I don’t mind, Charlie.”

  “Well, I do,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

  “But, Charlie,” she moaned. “I want you. Nobody does it like you.”

  He flushed, hoping no-one could overhear them. Oh, God. He began to sweat as she came towards him with an I-won’t-take-no-for-an-answer expression on her face.

  “A quickie, Charlie,” she whispered, unbuttoning her tunic and revealing enormous breasts putting her shirt buttons under considerable strain. “We’ll use that whatever-it-was technique you told me about once.”

  The withdrawal method. He cursed himself for boasting how he knew everything there was to know about sex. He’d never tried it with anyone. He had never had trusted himself to be able to pull out in time.

  “Wait.” He reached for his wallet. “Oh, look.” He feigned surprise as he pulled the celebrated condom out. “My last one.”

  “You’d better be good, then.” Doris was already kneeling and undoing his trouser buttons. Her skilled hands soon had the trousers and his underpants around his ankles and was massaging him thoroughly. “It’s been too long, Charlie,” she murmured. “Now, if it is the last time, then make it memorable.”

  It was for her, thanks to her egging him on. It wasn’t at all romantic – up against the cold wall of his room. Was he being very rough thanks to his pent-up desire over Kate? Yes, he was, but Doris seemed to like sex the rougher the better and he staggered back from her and almost fell over his trousers.

  “Oh, God Almighty,” he panted, leaning back against his chest of drawers.

  “When it comes to sex you are,” she gasped. “Oh, Charlie, was that really the last one?”

  “Yes,” he lied, pulling his underpants and trousers up at the same time. “Sorry,” he lied again.

  “Not half as sorry as I am. Look,” she squealed. “I’ve burst through my buttons.” She showed him her shirt and a flash of cleavage. “I’d better sew them back on before someone sees. What are you going to do from now on?”

  He stared at her as he did his trousers up. That was a good question. “Do without, I suppose.”

  “You?” She laughed. “That’ll be the day. Bye, Charlie.”

  He didn’t reply and she left the room. Sitting down on his bed, he flopped onto his back swearing up at the ceiling at his weakness to resist Doris’ skilful hands, before dragging his fingers down his face.

  “Charlie?” He sat up with a jolt as Squadron Leader Ralph Clarke held out a package to him. Bloody hell, how did the man manage to come into rooms without making a sound? If Clarke had been five minutes earlier… “This came for you this morning. I heard it’s your birthday tomorrow. Twenty-eight, isn’t it?”

  “That’s right, sir,” he replied, taking the package and scanning the floor to make sure Doris had taken all her clothes and buttons with her. She had, thank goodness. He turned back to Clarke who didn’t seem to be too inclined to go. God, he hadn’t heard anything, had he?

  “Charlie?” Clarke sat down on the chair by the bed. “I can’t help but notice that over the past few weeks you haven’t been yourself. Is there anything bothering you? Tell Uncle Ralph?”

  Charlie looked at the package in his hands. He didn’t recognise the handwriting and, tearing at the paper, took out a small box. Opening it, he stared at a framed photograph of Kate in her smart WAAF uniform and his spirits plummeted. If only he had been given this fifteen minutes ago. He sighed. Even in uniform and with her hair cut into a short bob, Kate was beautiful. Searching for a letter amongst the paper, he found a thick envelope. A long letter, good. He then realised he hadn’t answered Clarke.

  “It’s her,” he said, handing the picture over, and watching Clarke’s reaction.

  The Squadron Leader pursed his lips and nodded. “She’s beautiful, Charlie. This would make a great recruitment poster. What’s she done?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?” Clarke frowned. “Then what..?”

  “She’s Irish, only nineteen, and—” he faltered. “Oh, God.”

  “She’s not Doris, eh?” Clarke smiled and Charlie flushed.

  “She told me to—”

  “And you have and feel bad about it? There is a war on, Charlie. You can’t be expected to be a monk. You should be glad she’s so broad-minded and that Doris is so generous.”

  “Doris’ generosity has no limits,” he said savagely.

  “Don’t we all know it,” Clarke replied. “Do you love this girl?”

  “I don’t know, only that I’ve never felt like this before and it’s scaring me. I know what you’re going to say, sir, not to let this affect my flying.”

  “You’re a good pilot, Charlie. She clearly likes you or she wouldn’t have gone to all this trouble. Are you going to send her a picture of your ugly mug? I’ve got a decent camera somewhere.”

  Charlie smiled. “You think I should be thankful she is the way she is?”

  “Definitely. As far as I can see you’ve got nothing to worry about. She’s a beautiful girl, she likes you but knows that…”

  “There are girls like Doris around,” Charlie finished for him, then sighed. “Thanks, sir.”

  “Not at all.” Clarke got up. “I’ll leave you to her letter, but if you ever want to talk again…”

  “Thank you, sir,” Charlie replied but felt sure he wouldn’t. He opened the letter and read;

  Dear Charlie,

  I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to write, but as you can see I’ve joined the WAAF. Mr Graham the butcher was livid when I told him I was leaving. I suppose my timing could have been better, they’d just introduced meat rationing. Bob, Helen and Granny Barbara are concerned about me, of course, and so is my mother and Granny Norah but unfortunately my father is raging about it. As I’m not twenty-one, I needed a parent or guardian’s signature and I got Bob’s, even though he isn’t technically my guardian, and Daddy went mad. I telephoned him and sadly we rowed until I told him I wasn’t going to be fighting for the British but against Hitler. It seemed to calm him, for now at least.

  Charlie’s lip curled as he read. Her father was sounding more and more like a complete idiot.

  So I’m in the WAAF and so far so good. I spent two weeks at camp being initiated, so to speak, and now they are deciding what to do with me. I’ll be able to tell you in my next letter. How are you keeping? Plenty of wine, women and song?

  Charlie winced as he read that.

  I’ve told the girls in my hut about you – they’re called Thelma, Angela and Sylvia by the way – and they’re all curious. So if you have a photograph? Actually, the photograph would be for me, but I might allow them the occasional peep. They all have photographs of husbands and boyfriends… I’m not suggesting anything, but could you send me one?

  Charlie grinned. He’d borrow Ralph Clarke’s camera straight away. And to be regarded as her boyfriend… He’d have to tell her it was fine by him, more than fine.

  Your parents were in good health the last time I saw them. Bob, Helen and Granny Barbara had them over for dinner the Sunday before I left. I don’t think your mother could understand me very well, though, she kept frowning at me. At least she knew I wasn’t Welsh.

  Mother. Charlie rolled his eyes.

  When is your next leave? Do write and tell me so we can arrange to meet. More than likely I’m going to be based in London for whatever training they’ve lined up for me, so we could arrange to go out i
f you’d like?

  If I’d like? Charlie grinned. Of course, I would.

  Maybe we could go out for dinner? My treat for your birthday. Your father told me you are going to be twenty-eight. I hope you like the picture and frame, it was the only frame I could get in the village nearest to camp.

  I’ll be thinking of you, and the way you kissed me in the dark on the drive, and hoping it might possibly happen again..?

  Kate

  X

  Charlie put the letter down. He’d have to pinch some writing paper from someone. When was his next leave? It seemed like years since he was last home. He gazed at the photograph. Bloody hell, she was beautiful. He placed the photograph on his bedside locker and got up. He had to find out when his next leave was.

  He was to be granted leave of forty-eight hours soon and he walked to the Officers’ Mess to pinch some writing paper so he could write to Kate straight away. Passing his room, he heard sounds inside and put his head around the door. Billy and their friends Jack Buxton and Tommy Cox were examining the new photograph with great interest. Billy spotted him and beckoned him in.

  “Just who is this beautiful creature you’ve been hiding from us, Butler?” he demanded.

  “Her name’s Kate.” Charlie took the photograph back, not wanting Billy’s grubby little hands all over it.

  “Where did you find her?” Jack asked. “Come on, don’t be such a dark horse.”

  “She lives opposite me.”

  “Not any more by the picture. Did you persuade her to join the WAAF? God, she’s a stunner. What’s she like, eh, Charlie?” Billy asked. “Better than Doris?”

  “Bastard.” Charlie flung the photograph onto the bed and threw Billy up against the wardrobe. “She happens to be a lady, not that you’d know what that was.”

  “So she’s given you the brush-off? Oh, Charlie, you must be losing your touch.”

  Before Charlie could punch him, he was pulled away by Jack and Tommy. He struggled to break free but they held him tightly while Billy elaborately dusted his uniform down and picked up the photograph.