Wartime with the Cornish Girls

by Betty Walker

  ‘I’ll be fine,’ she said firmly.

  ‘Well, well.’ He looked quickly about as though to check nobody was listening, then bent towards her, saying, ‘You were brave in there, Eva. Quick thinking too. That fellow nearly got away, and that would have been a bad deal all round. Now he’ll face justice.’ He bent and dropped a kiss on her forehead. ‘Must say, I was very proud of you.’

  She blushed, smiling as he walked away, hands in his pockets, whistling in the sunshine. Then turned her attention to the letter.

  It was a single sheet, signed Flight Lieutenant Max Carmichael.

  He was alive!

  Her heart beating fast, Eva smoothed out the crumpled sheet and read through it quickly, then more slowly a second time.

  Dear Miss Ryder,

  It seems like a century since the night we met in the club in London, and I hope you don’t think it an impertinence for me to be writing to you now. But ever since I came to, I’ve been thinking about you and wondering how you are. I’ve been told you survived the blast, but nobody seems to know what happened to you after you were taken to hospital.

  As for me, I’m a bit of a mess. Swathed in bandages like an Egyptian mummy! But at least I didn’t bite the dust. Not everyone was so lucky that night.

  One of the men in my ward knows your father, Colonel Ryder, and kindly suggested where I should send this letter. I hope it reaches you. I’m to be discharged to a convalescent home as soon as I’m fit enough. As luck would have it, there’s one in Cornwall that might be able to take me. It’s in a town called St Ives, but I don’t know how far that is from you, and they have no free beds at present.

  Anyway, if you could find the time to reply, I would be relieved to know you weren’t badly hurt.

  Still very much your admirer,

  Flt Lt Max Carmichael

  So, this time, her worst fears had not been realised. The pilot had survived the bombing. It sounded like he was in a bad way, though.

  Swathed in bandages …

  Eva bit her lip at the frightening mental image that phrase inspired. How severe were his injuries? It was impossible to tell from his letter. Yet he seemed in good spirits, despite everything that had happened to him. What a strong, resilient soul he was, she thought, closing her eyes as she remembered that awful moment when Max had pushed her to safety, just before the bomb hit …

  A tear crept from under one eyelid, trickling down her cheek in the sunshine. Oh goodness, what was she like? It wasn’t as though she were in love with the man. She had only known him a few hours, in fact, before disaster struck. But she had wasted so much time on Rex Templeton this summer, and he had not been worth a single minute of it. Max was worth a hundred Rex Templetons. A thousand, even.

  All the same, it was only a letter. And a short one at that.

  Should she be thinking about turning her life upside down over a man again, so soon after being deceived by an enemy spy? On the strength of a single sheet of paper?

  She folded the letter, replaced it in the envelope, and pressed it to her chest. Despite today’s appalling events with Rex, this news felt like the hand of Fate on her shoulder. And maybe her father had been right to withhold the letter, seeing her so absorbed by her work at the listening post, and her preparations for the dance. She might not have been able to cope with this exciting news any sooner.

  Now though, she felt ready to look beyond Porthcurno again.

  She had been shaken up by the bombing in London, it was true, and happy to hide down here in rural Cornwall. That night had definitely affected her behaviour, making her more cautious than usual and almost afraid to look beyond surface appearances. If she had been her normal self, she would have spotted far earlier that Rex was hiding something. But last night’s dreadful air raid had reminded her that she had survived one brush with the enemy already, and that life had to go on – otherwise what was the point of it all?

  It had been lovely this summer, discovering the southern Cornish coast and falling in love with its sandy coves and sleepy countryside. And she had enjoyed spending more time with her father too, even if he could be a bit overbearing at times, always thinking he knew what was best for her. But she had no intention of hiding down here forever, acting the role of dutiful daughter. Not when she had unfinished business elsewhere.

  Still very much your admirer, Flt Lt Max Carmichael.

  Oh, was he, indeed?

  Eva grinned as she hurried back to her room, already mentally rehearsing how she would persuade her stubborn father to let her leave Porthcurno.

  A convalescent home in St Ives …

  Maybe it was time to brush up on her nursing skills.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  Violet could not meet anyone’s eye.

  Lily and Alice were seated either side of her, their slight bodies still and tensed, as though waiting for the next blow to hit their troubled family. Lily had been weeping, and Alice had her nose in a book, no doubt trying to escape the reality of their situation. They must be starving, she thought, having eaten the scantest of breakfasts this morning, and no lunch whatsoever, knowing they had to be at the colonel’s office for midday.

  Only midday had come and gone long ago.

  Hazel was pacing the narrow corridor outside the colonel’s office, pausing now and then to glance out through the window. When Violet had arrived back at the cottage last night, George Cotterill had been there with Hazel, and both of them had listened in horror to Violet’s explanation of why she had been brought back by a soldier.

  But although George had reassured her that the colonel wouldn’t put any store by Patrick Dullaghan’s claims, she had seen the wary look in his eyes and suspected he was in fact questioning whether the stories about her brother-in-law might be true.

  Did Joe harbour the same suspicions, she wondered? Did he blame her for his mum’s death, perhaps?

  She remembered Joe’s drawn face as he left her, stumbling away towards the ruins of his bombed-out barn, and despair gripped her. At the dance, she had thought, maybe … But no, even that tiny hope had been extinguished now. She would never see Joe again, unless it was to point an angry finger of accusation in her direction.

  Violet bent her head, staring down at her hands, clasped tight in her lap. She didn’t have a clue what would happen now. But she was sure it wouldn’t be anything good.

  Perhaps they would send her away from Porthcurno. Her and the girls. Just to be on the safe side. Except they had nowhere else to go. They might end up having to return to London, where bombs still fell every night …

  Patrick’s jeering voice echoed in her head, however hard she struggled to shut it out. They shoot spies, don’t they? This was so unfair. She wasn’t a German spy! And neither was Ernst. But how to convince the colonel of that?

  ‘Don’t fret, Aunty Vi,’ Lily reassured her. Such a good girl, she was. Poor pet though, she must be as terrified as Violet herself. To lose first her mother, and now possibly her aunt … ‘Those rumours about Daddy … They’re not true. It’s all a terrible mistake, you’ll see.’

  Violet squeezed Lily’s hand, muttering, ‘Thank you, pet.’

  Alice looked up from her book with a loud harumph. ‘Don’t be an idiot, Lil. Them Dullaghans don’t give up easy. I mean, look at them, making trouble for us even down here.’ She tapped the open page of her book emphatically. ‘Run away, Aunty Vi – that’s what you should do. Scarper before the colonel can clap you up in irons.’

  ‘Clap your aunt in irons? What nonsense. The colonel won’t do any such thing. Where on earth did you get such an idea?’ Hazel peered at the tatty paperback on Alice’s lap. ‘What is that book you’re reading?’

  ‘Treasure Island,’ Alice said, her chin raised defensively, and she snapped the paperback shut. ‘Nuffin’ wrong in that. I’ve read it three times already.’

  ‘Three times too many if you ask me,’ Hazel murmured, shaking her head with a faint smile. ‘Though you’re an unusual girl, Alice. I’ll give
you that.’

  Violet jumped up, unable to sit still a moment longer. ‘For goodness’ sake, where’s the colonel? It’s nearly two hours since we came up here and no sign of him yet. All this waiting about … I tell you, me nerves won’t stand it.’

  ‘Yes, it’s not right to keep you waiting this long.’ Hazel stopped, looking out of the window again, apparently mesmerised by something going on below. ‘Hello, how odd. I wonder if that’s what the hold-up is about.’

  Curious, Alice went to stare out of the window too. ‘Well, I never,’ she said, sounding surprised. ‘It’s that toffee-nosed bloke Eva’s so sweet on. Professor what’s-his-name.’

  ‘Templeton,’ Lily said promptly, joining them at the window. ‘Gosh, it looks like the professor’s under guard. I wonder what he’s done wrong.’ She giggled. ‘Forgot to dot his “i”s and cross his “t”s, maybe!’

  Too distracted to care about a man she hardly knew, Violet sat down again and wrung her hands. ‘Hazel, I don’t think I can bear this waiting.’

  ‘Chin up,’ Hazel told her cheerfully, bending to give her a quick hug. ‘I’m here to defend you, aren’t I? And you heard George last night. He doesn’t think the colonel will pay any attention to that nasty Dullaghan boy.’

  ‘He doesn’t know that for sure, though.’ Violet felt her chest constrict with fear. ‘And what will happen to the girls if I’m arrested? Who will look after the poor little pets if … if I’m …?’

  She couldn’t finish that sentence, tears rolling down her cheeks.

  ‘It won’t come to that.’ Hazel hesitated, then put her arm about Violet’s shoulders, lowering her voice so the girls wouldn’t overhear. ‘But you know I’ll look after them until your mum arrives, so don’t worry about that. You did say she was on her way down from London, didn’t you?’

  ‘As soon as she can get the train fare together.’ Violet rubbed at her damp eyes, and sucked in a great shuddering breath, trying to calm herself down. She had to stay strong for the girls’ sake, at least. It wouldn’t do them any good to see their aunt crying, would it? ‘Mum don’t know nothing about this though,’ she whispered back. ‘What a shock for her, rolling up in Porthcurno to find me banged up for spying, and her granddaughters all alone.’

  ‘That’s not going to happen.’ But Hazel was chewing her lip, clearly uncertain about the whole business.

  They fell silent as they finally heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Tough, military footsteps. The girls spun round from the window at once, nervously tidying their hair and skirts. Violet stood, and hoped nobody would see how scared she was. Even Hazel straightened, but kept her arm about Violet’s shoulders.

  ‘Now, see here, Colonel,’ Hazel began crossly, but was interrupted.

  ‘Excellent,’ the colonel’s loud voice boomed out, ‘all present and correct. Just what I like to see.’ Colonel Ryder threw open the door to his office, ushering them inside. ‘That’s it, in you all go. Sorry to have kept you waiting so long, ladies, but I had some urgent business to attend to first.’

  Behind him came George Cotterill.

  ‘Yes, please join us, Mr Cotterill,’ the colonel insisted, closing the door and heading for his desk. ‘You need to hear this too.’

  George did not look happy, which made Violet even more nervous. She noticed how his unsmiling gaze searched Hazel’s face before he took up a position behind the colonel’s desk, hands clasped behind his back, his expression very stern indeed. Maybe that horrible boy Patrick Dullaghan had somehow managed to convince them that she was a spy, or that her brother-in-law was, making her look suspect too.

  She refused to believe that Ernst could ever be a German spy. So they’d better not try to tell her that he was, she decided stoutly.

  ‘Sit down, sit down,’ the colonel told them, squeezing himself into his chair and picking up his unlit pipe.

  There were three chairs ranged in front of his desk. The girls sat, and Hazel took a seat near the window, facing them.

  Violet, however, refused to sit down, standing bolt upright before her chair instead, a damp hanky crushed between her hands. ‘I’m not guilty,’ she blurted out before he had a chance to accuse her of anything. ‘I swear that’s the truth, Colonel. I’m sorry about the bombing, truly I am. But it was nothing to do with me. That Dullaghan lad … He’s a wrong ’un. I told you last night, you can’t trust a bleedin’ word he says. I’m innocent. I would never … I mean, it’s just not true … Oh, you’ve got to believe me!’

  She was crying again, she realised, and staunched the flow with her crumpled hanky before blowing her nose violently.

  ‘No need to cry, there’s a good woman,’ Colonel Ryder said, not unkindly, fiddling with his pipe as though it was more interesting than she was. ‘Truth of the matter is, we know it wasn’t you behind last night’s bombing raid. And George here has vouched for you personally.’

  Violet stared at George. ‘He has?’

  ‘That’s right. So you can sit down and stop blubbing.’

  Stunned, Violet sank onto her chair. ‘Oh …’

  ‘We’ve got somebody else in the bag for last night. So you’re off the hook. And frankly, you know, I never believed that boy. Lads his age, they’re always looking to make mischief.’ He blew into his pipe bowl in a uninterested way, and then tapped it in the ashtray. ‘Private Dullaghan … Knew you back in the East End, did he?’

  ‘Th-that’s right.’

  ‘George told me there was some kind of bad blood between the two of you.’

  She nodded, speechless with gratitude for George’s intervention.

  ‘Then last night, Dullaghan saw an opportunity to get his own back, with all that spy nonsense. Am I right?’

  ‘Yes, sir. That’s it, exactly.’

  ‘Well, no need to trouble ourselves over it. Clearly not a word of truth in the whole thing. So you can go about your business as usual, eh?’ He waved a hand to dismiss them. As they all stood up to troop out of the room, he pointed at Violet, and cleared his throat. ‘Though I’d like another word with you in private, Miss … erm …’

  ‘Hopkins, sir,’ she supplied.

  ‘That’s the one. You stay behind a minute for a quick chat.’

  Violet sat down again, her face pale as she watched Hazel and the girls leave the room, followed by George. She had told him she was innocent. Somebody else had been arrested. So whatever was this about?

  The door closed behind them, and she was alone with the colonel.

  ‘Now, don’t fret,’ he said kindly, and lit his pipe. ‘You don’t mind if I smoke, do you?’ She shook her head, watching him in trepidation. The thick fragrant smoke filled the air. ‘Thing is, what I’m about to say to you is top secret. You signed the Official Secrets Act when you came to work here, didn’t you?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘Well, you’ll know not to say a word to anyone outside this room. Not even those two girls of yours.’

  ‘They’re my nieces. Lily and Alice.’

  ‘Quite so.’ The colonel puffed on his pipe for a moment, regarding her through the smoke with clever eyes. ‘I really am sorry to have kept you waiting so long. But I had to chase the story up, you see, and that took a bit of time. That nonsense about your brother-in-law. Can’t have that kind of wild accusation doing the rounds. Talk of a German spy and his accomplice down here in Porthcurno, where we’re all meant to be top secret and watertight? Bad for morale.’ He laid his pipe down in the ashtray, its bowl still smouldering. ‘So I made some phone calls last night. Did a little digging. And this morning I heard back about your brother-in-law, and had my secretary take down some notes. Would you like me to tell you what they say?’

  Violet nodded, her heart thudding fit to burst.

  He unlocked one of his desk drawers, pulling out a thick manila folder, which he dropped onto his blotter pad. Reading upside down, she could see words stamped across the folder in red ink.

  TOP SECRET

  Colonel Ryder opened the folde
r and shuffled through various papers inside, then drew out a handwritten sheet and studied it thoughtfully. ‘Ernst Fisher,’ he read aloud, the words filling her with dread. ‘English father, German mother. Joined up early in the war, currently missing in action. Last known location classified.’

  ‘He wasn’t a spy, Colonel. Not our Ernest.’ She could feel the tears starting again. But this time, there were tears of anger. ‘He was as English and patriotic as they come. He’d never have betrayed his country. It’s just spiteful rumours, on account of his name, and him being able to speak German proper. That’s all it ever was. Nasty, spiteful gossip.’

  ‘I believe you,’ he said calmly.

  ‘And now my sister’s dead, and I don’t want his two girls growing up thinking their dad …’ She suddenly realised what the colonel had said, and stopped dead, staring at him. ‘Oh … You don’t believe he was guilty either, then?’

  With a faint smile, Colonel Ryder slid the paper back inside the folder and closed it. ‘Not one jot, Miss Hopkins. You see, I believe your brother-in-law has been most helpful to this country.’

  Violet could not believe what she was hearing. Most helpful to this country. Was he suggesting that Ernst had been spying for England when he was declared lost in action?

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Can’t say any more, I’m afraid.’ He tapped the side of his nose. ‘And nor should you. Not even to your family.’

  ‘I see.’ Violet frowned. ‘I think.’

  ‘Not one word, there’s a good woman. Or my head could be on the chopping block … and so could yours! Is that clear?’

  Violet quaked inwardly. ‘Yes, sir.’

  Colonel Ryder opened his desk drawer, dropped the manila folder back into it, and then turned the key again.

  ‘Now,’ he continued briskly, ‘I’ve heard on the grapevine that you’re bunked up with those two girls in Mrs Baxter’s place, and your mother’s been hurt in London and will be joining you shortly. Is that right?’