Into The Unknown

by Lorna Peel

  “You get off home now, Kate,” Jean told her. “The station’s still here. I’ll be fine, honest.”

  “What, leave you amongst all this?” Kate took her friend’s arm and marched her into the station. “Let’s see if the trains are running.”

  They were, with only short delays.

  “Now, you go,” Jean insisted. “I’ll see you in a fortnight.”

  “Have a lovely time.” Kate hugged her.

  “I will.” Jean grinned. “Oh, look.” She pointed to a woman selling bunches of daffodils. “Why not get some for your gran’s birthday?”

  That was a good idea, Granny Barbara loved flowers. Kate said goodbye to Jean, bought a bunch of the daffodils then went to catch a bus. If she could get a bus only part of the way she wouldn’t mind walking the rest even if her suitcase was getting heavy.

  Looking up, she saw smoke rising, and yet another fire engine rushed past. Hearing a loud crash, she saw dust in addition to the smoke. It was another building either being demolished or collapsing. Would London ever be the same again?

  Finding a bus, she clambered aboard with her suitcase and daffodils. On the journey, she saw the same destruction again and again. Once in familiar surroundings, the bus took a wrong turning.

  “I want the end of Dunstan Street,” she called to the bus conductor and he stared at her for a moment.

  “We’re having to avoid a lot of destruction and closed streets, Miss,” he said.

  “Well, could you let me off here, please?”

  The bus stopped and she got off outside what had once been Graham’s the Butchers. Nothing was left of it but rubble. She walked away, hoping the butcher had survived. For all his faults, she didn’t wish him dead.

  Turning back on to the route the bus should have taken, she walked along the pavement seeing smoke and flames, ARP wardens and police ahead. She broke into a run, only stopping at the end of Dunstan Street. A police constable grabbed her arm and she dropped the suitcase and flowers.

  “You can’t go up there,” he cried. “It’s an inferno.”

  “Charlie,” she whispered. “Oh, my God, Charlie. Let me go.” Shaking off his hand, she began to run up the street. She had to find Charlie.

  “Stop that bloody woman,” she heard someone shout.

  A strong breeze blew smoke, ashes, debris and overpowering heat into in her face. Halfway up the street, she was forced to stop. The far end of the street on both sides was in flames.

  “Charlie?” she screamed, shielding her eyes while searching frantically for number 26 and then for number 25 and then for number 26 again. Where were they? Why couldn’t she see the houses? Where was everyone? “Charlie, answer me?” she shrieked and began to cough. “Helen? Bob? Granny? Are you there? Answer me, please? Are you there?”

  “Come back, you stupid bloody fool.” She heard a man’s voice and she was lifted up and hoisted over his shoulder. “Do you want to die, too?”

  “I have family up there, let me go.” She began to kick out at him but it was no use, the man’s grip on her was far too tight.

  She was carried back down the street to where she had dropped her suitcase and the flowers, set on her feet and shook hard.

  “Don’t you ever do something that stupid again. Do you hear me?” She stared at him; he was an ARP warden, his face covered in soot. “Do you hear me?” he repeated.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “Good.”

  “Did anyone get out?”

  “From numbers 19 and 20 up, no,” he replied.

  Kate squinted up the street at the flames again before her legs turned to jelly. Both the ARP warden and the police constable had to grab her arms before she fell. Were they all there? Charlie, Bob and Dr Butler, too? The two men sat her down on her suitcase, and the constable knelt in front of her.

  “Did you live there?” he asked. “Were your parents there?”

  “I… no.” She shook her head. “I lived at number 26 with my aunt, uncle and grandmother.”

  “Can you tell me their names?”

  “Robert and Helen Williams and Barbara Simmonds. There was a maid and a cook there, too.” She watched him scribble the information down in his notebook then stared at her shaking hands and knees. “I know who lived at number 25, too.”

  “Good girl, tell me their names.”

  “Dr Butler and his wife. They didn’t have any servants anymore. The thing is.” She forced herself to think clearly. “Bob – that’s Robert – he was in the RAF and Dr Butler was in the services, too, and Charlie Butler…” She stared into the constable’s face in horror. “He’s a Flight Lieutenant and I don’t know if he had leave. I don’t know if they were all there.”

  “Kate?” Mrs Jones from number 23, soot-black from head to toe, was rushing towards her. “Oh, Kate, you poor child.”

  “Were they all there?”

  “Yes,” she replied.

  “Charlie?” she whispered.

  “No, not Charlie, but both his parents and Bob, Helen and Barbara were there; I saw them all yesterday evening.”

  “What about your house?” she asked, her head feeling light with a mixture of relief and horror.

  “It’s gone,” she was told shakily. “James and I are going to my sister’s. I’m so sorry.”

  “I must tell Charlie.” She thought it and spoke it at the same time.

  She struggled to her feet, picked up the daffodils, and went to the street sign. She pushed the flowers between the sign and the wall before going back for her suitcase. The constable was scribbling in his notebook and didn’t see her walking away.

  Buses. She must take one thing at a time, so the first thing to do was to find the two buses to take her to Charlie.

  She found the correct buses surprisingly fast. She spoke twice – both times to state her destination.

  Walking the short distance from the bus stop to Charlie’s base, her suitcase felt like lead, but she didn’t lessen her pace. At the gates, her papers were examined and she was asked to state her business. Stating, “I must tell Charlie” wasn’t enough information so she forced her numbed brain onwards.

  “I must speak to your CO. I have bad news for one of his officers.”

  “Are you a relative of this officer?”

  “His girlfriend and neighbour. It’s about his parents.”

  The sentry scanned her face, taking in the grime and dust and seemed to guess immediately what her business was.

  Kate was taken straight to the CO’s office, hoping she wouldn’t meet Charlie on the way. The CO got up as she was announced and shown in.

  “You can put your suitcase down.” He smiled at her, making her want to cry for the first time. “Now, what can I do for you?”

  “I need to speak to Flight Lieutenant Charles Butler. I have some very bad news for him.”

  “Where have you come from?” he asked, looking at her grubby uniform.

  “London. I live – lived – opposite him. I’m his girlfriend,” she whispered. “I had two weeks leave, but when I got there half the street was on fire.”

  “Who died?”

  Tears stung her eyes as she thought of them all. “My aunt, uncle, grandmother and the maid and cook where I lived. Bob – Robert Williams – he was in the RAF but he must have had leave. Where Charlie lived,” she swallowed noisily, “both his parents.”

  The CO closed his eyes for a moment.

  “Charlie has to be told,” she continued. “He has a younger brother still at school. My uncle and aunt’s son – my cousin – is at school with him. They have to be told, too.”

  The CO nodded. “There’s no one else?”

  She shook her head. “No, my uncle’s brother was killed in the last war. My aunt’s sister is my mother, and my parents are in Ireland. Charlie’s uncle died in the last war, his aunt died recently, and his father was an only child. We are all Toby and Clive have.”

  The CO nodded again and went to the outer office. Kate could see him whisper
ing to a WAAF who got up from her desk and went outside. He came back and retrieved one of two chairs from behind the door for her.

  “Charlie is being fetched now. Would you like me to… or would you..?”

  The idea of someone else telling him had never entered her head. “I will do it,” she said, hearing footsteps and fighting to stay calm. Those footsteps were Charlie’s.

  “I’ll be right outside,” the CO told her. “Afterwards, there are some things we’ll have to discuss.”

  She nodded as he left the office and turned as the door opened again and Charlie looked in at her in surprise. The surprise lasted only a moment before he began to frown.

  Chapter Ten

  Charlie was so surprised he forgot to salute the CO. What was Kate doing in the CO’s office? Her face was grey, her uniform covered in dust and she had her suitcase with her. He went in and closed the door, feeling very uncomfortable. Kate started shaking and Charlie quickly reached for her hands. They were freezing cold.

  “I’m sorry, Charlie,” she whispered, “but I have to tell you this.”

  He waited, heart pounding, as she tried to compose herself.

  “Jean and I were granted two weeks leave so I saw her to Euston Station, then I caught a bus home. The bus went a different way, so I asked to get off and I walked. Then I saw them, at the end of the street – police, ARPs – the lot.” She slowly raised her eyes to his face. They were brimming with tears. “The far end of the street was on fire; an inferno, the policeman told me. Charlie,” she croaked, “they’re all dead. Everyone. Bob and your father, too.”

  He stared at her. “Dead?”

  She nodded. “I saw Mrs Jones. She saw your father and Bob yesterday evening, that’s how I know they were there. Charlie,” she wailed. “They’re all dead.”

  Flinging herself into his arms, she wept. First tears, he realised. He tried to cry himself, but nothing would come. He kissed her forehead and ran his hands up and down her back, feeling numb. They were dead. His parents. Bob. Helen. Barbara. Everyone.

  “Clive and Toby,” he whispered. “They have to be told.”

  “Yes,” she replied as he heard a soft knock at the door and the CO came in carrying two mugs.

  “Tea. Hot, wet, and very sweet,” the CO told them and Charlie’s stomach churned as he released Kate and saw her grimace. “You’re to drink it,” the CO ordered, closing the door with his foot. He placed the two mugs on the desk, held out a hand and Charlie shook it. “I’m so sorry, Charlie. You too, Miss Sheridan,” he added with a sympathetic smile and she nodded. “Please, sit down.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Retrieving a chair from behind the door, he and Kate sat down in front of the desk and the CO took his seat behind it.

  “Now.” The CO sighed. “I’ve had the police on the telephone looking for you,” he told Kate. “They spoke to a Mrs Jones and wondered if you would try and make your way to Charlie’s base, so I’ve told them that you’re here and you’re safe.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered, reached for a mug and sipped the tea.

  “I also contacted HQ about your uncle. They confirmed he had forty-eight hours leave.”

  Kate nodded and the CO turned to Charlie, who was struggling with the tea. It was vile muck.

  “The two of you are responsible for your brother and your cousin. How old are they?”

  “Seventeen, sir, and they both board at Oaklands School.”

  “When do you wish to tell them?”

  Charlie sank back in his chair. How could he tell them that both sets of parents and a grandmother were dead?

  “I don’t know, sir.”

  “Leave it until this afternoon. Would you like me to make an appointment with the headmaster?”

  Charlie hesitated before answering. The boys were going to need time away from school.

  “Yes, thank you, sir, but we—” he began and stopped. He was about to say they didn’t have anywhere to live, but they did. Aunt Winnie’s house, where he and Clive had gone for holidays. Winnie had been a scream; it was hard to think of her being dead. It was hard to think of them all… “We do have somewhere to live, sir,” he said and Kate looked up from her mug. “My late aunt’s house. We’ll have to go there.”

  “You will, naturally, be granted compassionate leave. Three months. I’ll arrange it for you both.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Three months. He’d never been away from the RAF for more than two weeks. Now everything was up to him.

  The CO looked at his watch. “I suggest you both get something to eat. I’ll clear the officer’s dining room for you and I’ll get James Howard my batman to pack your things, Charlie.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “I’ll see you before you leave.”

  Taking Kate’s hand, Charlie brought her straight to his room. He went to take her in his arms again but saw Billy standing at the door.

  “Charlie. And you must be Kate?”

  She didn’t reply and Billy frowned.

  “Billy.” Charlie sat Kate down on his bed and kissed the top of her head. “My parents are dead,” he said, his gut twisting painfully, making the words come out in a rush. “So are Kate’s uncle and aunt, her grandmother, and their servants.”

  Blood drained from Billy’s face. “Oh, Charlie,” he mumbled.

  “So Kate and I have been granted leave of three months. We’re having to go and tell Clive and Toby this afternoon. James Howard is coming to pack my things.”

  “Is there anything I can do?” Billy offered and Charlie sighed and gripped his friend’s shoulder.

  “No, but thank you. Oh, can you make sure James packs the photographs?”

  “Yes, of course. Where will you go?”

  “To my aunt’s house. Remember? I told you about it?”

  “Yes. Christ. Charlie, Kate, I don’t—”

  “I know. I’ll write, Billy. You’ll come to see us, won’t you?” he asked, hoping he didn’t sound too desperate. They’d need all the friends they could get.

  “Of course I will,” he replied, bending to Kate. “Can I get you anything? A glass of water? Tea?”

  “No, thank you.”

  “Right.” Charlie held his hand out to his friend. “I’ll be in touch.”

  Billy nodded and shook it.

  In the dining room, two plates of roast pork with potatoes and carrots were carried in and set down in front of them. Charlie’s stomach churned, and beside him Kate moved uncomfortably, clearly feeling the same inability to eat.

  “Eat as much as you can,” he told her. “Who knows when we’ll eat again.”

  He watched her pick at the food before raising a forkful to her mouth. To his surprise, both of them cleared their plates and sat back satisfied.

  “Good.” The CO smiled, coming into the dining room and sitting down opposite them. “Now, you have an appointment with the headmaster, Mr Jacobs, at three and ration books are being organised for you all.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “I know it’s a lot to take in now, Charlie, so I’ve written it down for you.” The CO passed over a sheet of paper. “If there is anything you would like to ask, just call me or come to see me, but don’t be stuck.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Oh, may I have your new address?”

  “Yes, it’s Rose Cottage, Market Kirby.” Charlie almost smiled at the quaintness of it.

  “Not too far away.” The CO wrote it down. “Good. Well, good luck.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Charlie said for the umpteenth time.

  “You’ve been very kind, sir.” Kate reached across the table and shook his hand.

  James, the CO’s personal servant, was waiting beside the car with their suitcases. The poor man didn’t know what to say, he just shook Charlie’s hand and hurried away.

  Charlie looked at his watch. It was ten minutes to one, just over two hours until they would break the news to the boys, and he turned to Kate.
She had hardly said a word. He drove out of the gates and stopped at the gateway where they had rowed last time. He reversed in, gently turned her face towards his, and kissed her lips.

  “Don’t bottle it up,” he whispered.

  “You’re a fine one to talk,” she replied and glanced at the barn where they had made love. “Please cry.”

  He shrugged and shook his head. “I can’t,” he said simply. “It just seems so unreal. They’re all dead. Maybe when we’ve told the boys.”

  Her face contorted and tears began spilling down her cheeks. “It’s going to be so awful,” she sobbed. “It was awful telling you.”

  “You’re so brave,” he told her, kissing her tears. “You just wait until I start crying,” he added, rolling his eyes. “The funny thing is, I’m more scared of meeting old Jacobs again. He and I had a good few run-ins, I can tell you.”

  She kissed his cheek and put an arm around his shoulders, clearly needing to touch him. He drove to the school, enjoying the feeling of her fingers caressing the back of his neck and up into his hair. He parked in front of the imposing Victorian Gothic-style school building and stared up at it. He had hated the place and had vowed on leaving that he would never set foot inside the place ever again. He had dropped Clive off the odd time, but that was it. Now look. Ten years on, but even so, he was here.

  “You went to school here?” Kate glanced around and began brushing her uniform down. “My boarding school was tiny compared to this.”

  “Don’t worry.” He reached for his cap on the back seat and got out. “It’s not as grand as it thinks.”

  He and Kate walked to Mr Jacobs’ office, and he couldn’t help but feel like the small boy who had been summoned there because of his bad behaviour and cheek. He knocked at the door to the headmaster’s secretary’s office and his eyes widened as he heard a familiar voice telling him to enter. Miss Ridley. She was still here, like a part of the antique furniture. He opened the door and they went inside.