Into The Unknown

by Lorna Peel

  “Mmm.” He sighed. “And he’s just gone on leave so I can’t interrogate him.”

  “Please, don’t tease him, Charlie.”

  “All right,” he relented. “Billy and Jean, eh? Well, well, well…”

  Billy was very evasive following his return from leave, Jean clearly having let it slip that Kate and Charlie knew about them. Charlie was burning with curiosity as the weeks went on, even staying late one night in the hope of catching Billy unawares. He put down his pen, running his tongue over dry lips. What he wouldn’t give for a cup of coffee. He got up and went into Jim’s office next door.

  “I’m going to stretch my legs and go to the NAAFI for a cup of coffee. Fancy one?”

  “Mmm.” Jim stretched. “I’ll come with you, then I think we’ll call it a night.”

  The NAAFI was empty, so Charlie opened the door to the kitchen. It wasn’t hard to spot Doris’ blonde head amongst the pots and pans.

  “Any chance of some coffee?” he asked.

  “Not unless you make it yourself, Charlie. I’m fit to drop at any minute.”

  He smiled and turned to Jim. “Milk, two sugars?”

  A few minutes later, he and Jim sat down beside the wireless with their mugs. Charlie glanced at his watch, leant over, and switched the wireless on.

  “I’ll have those files for you in—” He stopped, a hand automatically reaching out to turn the volume up. Was the BBC announcer crying?

  “We regret to announce that the President of the United States has died…”

  Charlie stared at Jim, who stared back, equally shocked.

  “Oh, God.” Doris rushed out of the kitchen as Charlie switched the wireless off. “Have you heard?”

  “Yes.” Jim scratched his head, completely at a loss. “Bloody hell, now what?”

  “I think you’d better go and inform the CO, Jim,” Charlie told him.

  “Yes.” Jim pushed his mug away, got up and left the NAFFI.

  “Oh, Charlie.” Doris sank down onto the chair. “It’s awful. Poor Mr Roosevelt. The war wore him out, didn’t it?”

  Charlie nodded, drained his mug, and stood up. “Don’t tell any of the American lads, will you, Doris? Jim and I will go to their hut.”

  She shook her head, picked up the two mugs, and returned to the kitchen.

  Charlie went straight to Jim’s office and put his head around the door. “What did the CO say?”

  “Well.” Jim sighed. “He’s shocked and he’s on the telephone right now. The American lads have most likely heard – I hope they’ve heard – I don’t want to be the one to have to tell them.”

  “We’d better go over there all the same.”

  In the hut, it was clear the lads had heard the news and it was only just beginning to sink in. They were sitting stock-still on their beds, apart from Mickey ‘Mouse’ Donlon, who was pacing up and down clutching his head.

  “Dead. Oh, man, how could it happen now?” He swung around to face Charlie. “How? We’re so close. The Ninth Army is at the Elbe – only fifty miles from Berlin for God’s sake.” Turning to his locker, he rammed a fist into it.

  Charlie saw Jim begin to go forward, but put a hand on his shoulder, shaking his head as Mickey sat down on his bed, nursing his fist.

  “Damn,” he whispered. “Damn, damn, damn.”

  On the 30th April 1945, the strategic bombing offensive ended, but many Allied aircraft continued dropping food in the Low Countries and evacuating prisoners of war from Germany back to Britain. The last operation by RAF Bomber Command was an attack by a Mosquito force on Kiel in northern Germany on the night of May 2/3. The previous day, astonishing news had been relayed over the wireless.

  “Hitler’s dead.” Jim burst into Charlie’s office, startling him. “Killed himself.” Charlie sat back in his chair, his mouth dropping open and Jim laughed. “Come on, Charlie, say something. The bastard’s dead.”

  But Charlie was silent, twirling his pen about between his fingers. “Coward,” he said finally, putting the pen down. “Now we can’t get to him.”

  “Oh, I think we got to him all right.”

  “You know what I bloody mean, Jim,” he roared, the Adjutant’s eyes widened and Charlie lowered his head into his hands. “Sorry. It’s just that if he had been taken prisoner…” He straightened up and sighed. “I’m sorry for shouting. We should be glad,” he decided and got up from behind his desk. “Let’s go to the Mess and have a beer to celebrate,” he said with a smile, slapping Jim on the back. “We’re nearly there.”

  Kate had a wicked gleam in her eye on the morning of his thirty-third birthday and he wondered what she was up to. Arriving home that evening, he found her in the hall dressed up to the nines and looking breathtaking. She led him to the kitchen where she had prepared a romantic dinner for two complete with wine and candles.

  “Kate Sheridan, you are amazing.”

  “Tell me again later on,” she replied and gave him a knowing smile.

  Over coffee, she handed him a flat, square box. He opened it and lifted out two framed photographs. The first was of himself, Kate and Grace, Clive and Toby, plus Billy and Jean, John and Lucy, and Dr Eliot taken at the christening. The second was taken only a few weeks ago by Lucy of himself, Kate and Grace in the garden with the copper beech tree in the background. Past, present and future all together. He put the photographs down before dissolving into tears.

  “Oh, Charlie.” Kate ran around the table, knelt down, and covered his face with kisses.

  “I was looking at the tree,” he whispered. “I wish they could have seen Grace. I wish we could have shown them how beautiful she is.”

  “I know but, wherever they are, I think they can see her.”

  “Yes.” He smiled through his tears. “I’m sorry for crying. They’re beautiful photographs, thank you,” he said softly. “And thank you for this evening.”

  “It’s not over yet.”

  She winked and led him into Grace’s bedroom, where they both kissed her goodnight, then into their bedroom. She made him lie down on the bed while she stood undressing at the foot. She grinned at him then clambered onto the bed, slowly removing his clothes.

  “Remember this?” she asked, indicating the peach silk lingerie. “Maybe not, since I can’t remember when I wore it last.”

  “I haven’t forgotten,” he whispered, running his hands over the silk before drawing her down and kissing her passionately.

  In the morning, Charlie yawned getting out of the car and saw Billy laughing at him.

  “Late night?” Billy inquired lightly. “Bastard,” he added with a grin.

  “I’m a bastard?” Charlie retorted with a bigger grin. “From what I’ve heard, you’re a bit of a bastard yourself.”

  For the first time in his life, he had the satisfaction of seeing Billy Benson blush. He marched him into his office, determined to discover the truth.

  “Well?” he demanded.

  “Oh, God.” Billy sat down. “Promise me you won’t laugh?” He saw Charlie’s eyebrows rise and rolled his eyes. “Stupid question. Well, Jean and I have been going out for a few months…”

  “Thanks for telling me.”

  “Oh, come on. I had to be sure. Remember all the rigmarole you got over Kate in the beginning?”

  “Yes, and if I remember rightly, most of it came from you, William.”

  Billy laughed. “I know… Charles. I’m sorry.”

  “Is it serious?” Charlie asked, sitting on the desk and Billy blushed again.

  “I suppose it is.”

  “Good God, she must be mad. Met her parents yet?”

  “Yes, I did, when they came down to visit her.”

  “Her father threaten you, or anything?” Charlie asked wryly.

  “What? No,” he replied and Charlie smiled.

  “What is he like?”

  “He’s small, like Jean. A grocer. A jolly chap. He liked me, too.”

  “Bloody hell, you must be getting nice in your
old age,” he teased and Billy laughed.

  “Will you keep it quiet for now, Charlie? Please?”

  “All right. But one more thing. Do you love her?”

  “Yes, I do,” Billy answered immediately. “And Jean loves me.”

  Billy sat back in his seat and Charlie knew he was expecting him to laugh or make a smart remark, not to simply hold out a hand.

  “Well done. At long last. It looks like the two of us will be spoken for soon.”

  Billy grinned and shook his hand.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  On May 2nd, Berlin fell to the Soviets and the Germans in Italy surrendered. On May 3rd, the Soviet forces reached the River Elbe, making contact with the US First and Ninth Armies, and in the north with the British Second Army. The British XII Corps occupied Hamburg, virtually completing British offensive operations. On May 4th, German forces surrendered in The Netherlands, Denmark and northwest Germany. Then, on May 7th, Admiral Friedeburg and General Jodl signed the unconditional German surrender documents at General Eisenhower’s Headquarters at Reims in northeastern France. British, Soviet and American representatives were all present. Operations were to end at 23:01 hours on May 8th, 1945.

  On the morning of the 7th, Kate kissed Charlie goodbye as usual at half past eight.

  “Not long now,” he whispered, but he had been telling her that for she didn’t know how long.

  She went about her usual business; shopping, baking, preparing dinner and listening to the radiogram. After lunch and some dusting, she had just sat down to read the previous day’s newspaper when she heard an announcement and put the newspaper to one side.

  Grace, clearly sensing her excitement, toddled across the floor to her and grabbed her hands. Kate froze when she heard the news; Reich Germany had surrendered unconditionally to the Western Allies and Soviets at two forty-two that morning. It was over.

  Scooping Grace up into her arms, she kissed her. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s go to church.”

  She helped Grace into her coat, put hers on, and they went out onto to the street. Both John and Lucy were running from the vicarage to the church.

  “Have you ever rung bells before?” Lucy gasped by way of a greeting.

  “No.” Kate laughed. “But I’ll learn.”

  “You come along with me, missy.” John picked Grace up and continued on with her into the church.

  As Kate and Lucy stood in the church porch, the people of Market Kirby were running out of their houses. They pulled and pulled at the ropes, just wanting to make noise – any celebratory noise – and the villagers rushed past them into the church, many in tears of joy.

  “Thank you.” The official bell ringers arrived a short time later. “Shall we take over?”

  “Oh, yes, please.” Kate handed over her rope, then ran to Lucy and hugged her. “At last. Come on.”

  They went into the church as the bells rang out tunefully. Emerging half an hour later from the rowdiest church service she had ever attended, everyone stood in the churchyard hugging and kissing each other before hurrying away to celebrate the peace.

  “Do you want to come back to the vicarage?” John asked.

  Kate opened her mouth to accept the kind invitation but saw Charlie’s car out of the corner of her eye. “There’s Charlie,” she said and Lucy nodded.

  “We’ll see you all later?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  Kate rushed to the churchyard gate, seeing Charlie getting out of the car and looking around for them. He was biting his lips as she approached him, Grace in her arms. He held out his arms and she ran into them, both of them bursting into tears. At last, it was over.

  “Jim’s given me forty-eight hours leave,” he told her. “I had to come back to you both.”

  “Grace and I went straight to the church. Lucy and I were ringing the bells like nobody’s business.” She laughed through her tears. “I can’t believe it.”

  “Believe it.” He kissed her lips, then they both kissed Grace and she squealed with delight.

  “I love you, Charlie,” Kate whispered.

  “I love you.” Charlie kissed her again. “What will we do to celebrate?”

  “John and Lucy have asked us to call to the vicarage. Let’s go there.”

  They spent a very raucous evening at the vicarage, especially when it was announced that the following day, Tuesday 8th May, was to be Victory in Europe Day. It and the next day were to be holidays. Grace thoroughly enjoyed herself, dancing in her own way to John’s Glenn Miller record, until she curled up in an armchair and slept with Charlie’s overcoat over her.

  They woke late in the morning and the first thing Kate heard was Charlie groaning.

  “Well, you and John did insist that it would be such a shame to not finish the bottle off. Regretting it now?” she asked with a smile.

  “God, no.” He laughed and kissed her. “I’m fine. In fact, I’ve got an idea. Why don’t we go to London for the day?”

  “London?” she repeated and he nodded.

  “Surely the King and Queen will make an appearance? I just feel I have to see London again. London in peacetime again.”

  But without Dunstan Street, she thought but smiled. “Yes.”

  After washing up the breakfast dishes, he caught her around the waist and swung her around, making Grace squeal with excitement.

  “Shall we go now?” he asked.

  “Why not.”

  Twenty minutes later, they got into the car and Charlie drove straight to London. All along their route people were rushing out onto the streets, waving flags and kissing anyone who would let them.

  Charlie parked the car in a side street, took Grace in his arms, and they walked around central London soaking up the atmosphere. In Trafalgar Square, they just looked at each other and laughed, remembering New Year’s Eve 1939.

  At three o’clock they gathered around a wireless, waiting for Mr Churchill’s victory broadcast.

  “This is the BBC in London with a special broadcast.”

  Kate felt Charlie squeezing her hand.

  “…We may allow ourselves a brief period of rejoicing but let us not forget for a moment the toil and efforts that lie ahead. Japan, with all her treachery and greed, remains unsubdued. The injury she has inflicted on Great Britain, the United States, and other countries, and her detestable cruelties, call for justice and retribution. We must now devote all our strength and resources to the completion of our task, both at home and abroad. Advance Britannia! Long live the cause of freedom! God save the King!”

  Everyone stood for God Save the King and when it ended, Charlie kissed Grace then bent and kissed Kate’s lips.

  “I wish we could sing The Soldier’s Song, too,” he whispered and she hugged him.

  “I’ll teach it to you later.”

  “Shall we go to Buckingham Palace now?” Charlie asked, sounding as if they had been invited round for afternoon tea.

  “Oh.” Kate shrugged. “Why not.”

  Flags and bunting were sprouting everywhere on that May afternoon. The three of them joined the seemingly endless stream of people rushing towards The Mall and Buckingham Palace. Thousands upon thousands of people were gathering around the Victoria Memorial, shouting for the King and Queen.

  Kate saw Charlie open his mouth to speak, but a roar rang out. He looked up, an arm around Grace holding her tightly, his other arm around her.

  The King and Queen, Princesses Elizabeth and Margaret Rose, and Prime Minister Churchill were on the balcony. The roars of the crowd were deafening. Kate and Charlie roared, too, Kate putting all thought of what her father would say out of her head. She would never forget she was Irish but England was her home now – with Charlie and Grace.

  “What do you think?” he yelled in her ear.

  “I’m glad we came,” she shouted back. “There’ll never be another day like this.”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  “Then marry me?�
� he asked and she blushed as people nearby turned to look at them.

  “I will,” she replied.

  “What?” He began to smile.

  “I will marry you.”

  There was a ripple of applause, just discernible above the noise, and Charlie bent and kissed her lips.

  “There’s something in my pocket for you,” he whispered in her ear. “Take Grace for a moment.” He passed Grace to her, fished a small box out of his trouser pocket, and opened it. “An emerald ring for the most beautiful girl from the Emerald Isle,” he said, taking her left hand, and slipping the ring onto her finger. He kissed her hand but held onto it. “I love you so much,” he said and tears sprang into her eyes. “I may not always show it, coming home to a dinner every evening and then just sitting down on the sofa with the newspaper. I work hard, but you work even harder.” He kissed her hand again. “Thank you.”

  “I love you, Charlie. The ring is beautiful. Thank you.”

  “Shall we go and get something to eat?” he asked and took Grace back from her.

  “Oh, you and your stomach. Yes.”

  Taking his hand, they pushed their way through the crowd and walked down The Mall.

  “Back to the car,” he said, squeezing her hand.

  “Why? Where are we going?”

  “The Ritz,” he said, her eyes bulged, and he stopped. “Kate, the war is over. You love me. We have a beautiful daughter, and we’re going to get married. Doesn’t that give us enough reasons to splash out?”

  There was no answer to that and they continued back to the car.

  “Charlie?” Someone shouted. “Over here. Charlie? Kate?”

  “It’s Toby at the car!” Kate grabbed Charlie’s arm.

  It was, along with Clive, who straightened up. He had been bending over the bonnet scribbling something with a pencil on a scrap of paper.

  “We saw the car.” Toby grinned. “We were going to leave a note for you.”

  “It’s brilliant, isn’t it?” Clive cried, hugging Kate, kissing Grace, and thumping his brother affectionately.

  “It is.” Charlie hugged him then Toby. “And you’re just in time.”