Down Daisy Street (49 page)

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Authors: Katie Flynn

Tags: #Fiction, #Sagas

BOOK: Down Daisy Street
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But right now, she was so full of the wonderful news that he was still alive that nothing else seemed to matter much. Even if he were only a friend, she would rejoice wholeheartedly to hear he was safe. Going indoors once more, she smiled across the kitchen at Betty, then took down her gas mask case from where it hung behind the back door and fished out paper and writing materials.
‘I’m going to write to Jane and me mam,’ she announced, beginning to smile. ‘I just can’t wait to tell them the news.’
Within two weeks of the Hewitts’ receiving Alec’s letter, news of the Normandy landings was on everyone’s lips. Kathy followed the Allies’ gradual incursion into France with her heart in her mouth. She had assumed that Alec’s ‘friendly family’ must be in eastern France and, naturally, this would be the last part of the country the Allies would reach, yet she could not help hoping. Surely he would hear news of the advance and would try to meet his compatriots – unless he was injured, ill, unable to travel . . .
But that way lay madness and Kathy resolutely refused to consider that anything bad could have befallen her lover. Waiting was hard but when the waiting was over she and Alec would be together once more and that was all that mattered, she told herself constantly as the weeks passed.
Being on opposite sides of the country as they were, she and Jane had only exchanged letters of late but, to Kathy’s pleasure, Jane had recently been posted to a Norfolk airfield. This meant that the girls could meet up in Norwich when the gharries dumped them there for a few hours of comparative freedom. Kathy was able to discuss with Jane what had happened to make Alec go as navigator in a different plane on that fateful night.
‘I’ve asked Jimmy why Alec went off in the other kite,’ Jane had told Kathy. ‘Apparently, the two skippers were big pals and it would have been very difficult for Alec to say he wouldn’t go. So don’t you go thinkin’ he went off on the raid that night because he were upset by what you said. Refusing would have made things awkward, see?’
Kathy did see but she thought, privately, that she would blame herself for that dreadful telephone call for as long as she lived. If only she had been able to explain to Alec, to write a letter taking back all the bitter things she had said, but it had not been possible then and was impossible still.
Meanwhile, she had to continue with her life. Other people had lovers in German POW camps, or simply missing. Aircrew risked their lives every time they took their kites over Germany and you could tell by the haunted eyes of wives and girlfriends that they suffered every bit as much as Kathy was doing. After all, one bit of bad luck and an aircraft could crash, ’chutes could fail to open or a stray bullet might find its mark.
So Kathy appreciated that Jane and many other women suffered from the same restless, gnawing anxiety as she did herself and determined to show a cheerful face and an optimistic attitude, both at work and at play.
By mid-September, it became clear to everyone that the whole of France would soon be liberated. The Third Reich was tottering. To be sure, the hated doodlebugs had taken their toll and the V2s, immensely powerful rockets which came soundlessly overhead and caused enormous damage when they landed, were dreaded, but they were reputed to be the last horrible surprise in Hitler’s armoury. The fear that he might try to use biological warfare had gradually faded as both sides, presumably, realised that it was a two-edged weapon which could twist in the hand and attack the very forces who were using it.
Harvest time came. Everyone on the stations was urged to help the farmers and gharries full of RAF personnel took them round to neighbouring fields where they worked with a will alongside land girls, elderly farm workers and the many Italian prisoners of war who had ended up in Norfolk. Kathy, however, made her way to the Hewitts’ whenever she could. Betty and Bob were always delighted to see her, for though she still needed her crutches at times there were many jobs with which she could cope comfortably.
Kathy was actually at the farm, perched on top of a load of straw which Clark, the shire horse, was about to pull back to the rickyard, when Betty came running down the lane. She had a yellow envelope in one hand and a piece of paper in the other and even from her lofty perch Kathy could see the excitement on the older woman’s face. ‘It’s a telegram – a telegram from Alec!’ Betty shrieked. ‘He’s back in England! He has to report to some board or other – he don’t say which – but he’ll be coming home next Thursday. Oh, Bob, Bob, I couldn’t believe my eyes when I first opened the envelope. Our boy’s safe and we’ll be seeing him in less than a week!’
Bob had been pitching sheaves of straw up to Kathy but now he held up his arms and caught her as she slithered down from the laden wagon. To Kathy’s amazement, for Bob had never been a demonstrative man, he gave her a quick, hard hug and planted a kiss on her forehead before turning round to lift Betty off her feet with a shout of triumph. ‘Our lad’s back in England,’ he shouted to the assembled workers. ‘Oh, thank the good Lord, the boy Alec is coming home.’
By dusk, the field was finished and the workers scattered, the Hewitts and Kathy to return to the farmhouse. They had had a large tea, but Betty had boiled the kettle and baked some potatoes in the oven, and though Kathy protested that she could not eat a thing she soon found she was able to do so and despatched two cups of tea and a large potato before settling back in her chair to discuss what celebrations should be planned for the returning hero.
It was then that Kathy realised she simply could not face the thought of meeting Alec for the first time in the bosom of his family whilst still struggling about on crutches. To be sure, she was a great deal better than she had been, and did not need the crutches at all in the house. But it might put Alec in a terribly uncomfortable position since he had no idea that she was not still on a balloon site outside Liverpool; no idea that she had met his parents, knew them quite well in fact. He had never been told about her accident, knew nothing of her change of work and might well be flabbergasted to find her comfortably ensconced in his mother’s kitchen. After all, he had been in France for more than a year and, as a result, his whole life must have changed. The family who had hidden him – she assumed that this was what must have happened – might have a daughter with whom he was madly in love. She could picture his dismay upon seeing her, perhaps remembering their friendship as something which had happened long ago, in another life, a friendship that he now wanted to forget.
But it was not possible to say any of this to dear kind Betty and Bob, who had made her so wonderfully welcome and were taking it for granted that the Alec who was coming home to them would be the selfsame one who had gone away. She had never told either Bob or Betty of the telephone conversation – if you could call it that – she had had with their son last time they had spoken. It would scarcely have been possible without causing deep distress and even offence, but it did mean that they would expect her to fall into Alec’s arms and vice versa. They could not possibly realise how hurt and angry Alec must have been, how easy it would have been for him to fall in love with another woman, believing Kathy to have turned from him.
She could say none of these things, would have to invent a reason why she could not be back at the farm next Thursday . . . and at this point she began to wonder why Thursday was so significant. Surely there had been something . . . something . . .
‘Don’t forget, though, I shan’t be around next Thursday. I’ve got my medical board in London, and that’s something I simply must attend. But I’m sure Alec will understand; he knows the RAF.’
Betty stared at her, her eyes rounding with dismay. ‘I’d forgotten the medical board,’ she said slowly. ‘Oh, but surely, love, if you explain . . . it’ll be his first day home and for all we know the air force might post him to the highlands of Scotland or even abroad! Surely, if you explained . . .’
Kathy laughed but shook her head. ‘It doesn’t work like that, Betty. A medical board is an important business. As you know, I’ve wanted to remuster as something a bit more exciting than an office worker; this medical board may be my one chance. R/T Operatives have to be able to climb stairs and get around in the R/T office room without crutches getting in everyone’s way; or I might be a driver – I’d love that, you know.’
‘Well I think if you really tried . . .’ Betty was beginning, when Bob interrupted her, leaning across the table to give her shoulder a little shake.
‘The girl’s right, Bet. If this here medical board give her the go-ahead, then she’ll mebbe get a decent job and a bit more money. And besides, I reckon mebbe it’ll be easier on Alec if he gets his meetin’s and greetin’s over one at a time, so to speak. Of course, it’ll be Kathy he’ll want to see most, ’cos thass human nature, thass is, but think on, my woman; Kathy telled us she got a nice little bit o’ leave fixed up for after her medical board, so if she catch the milk train from Liverpool Street Station, even if she can’t catch an earlier one, they can have their own private reunion in the early hours o’ Friday mornin’ and then come back here all lovey-dovey.’ He turned to Kathy, giving her the wide, innocent grin which was the only physical resemblance between him and Alec. ‘Thass what you’re plannin’, int it, my woman?’
‘Well, something like that,’ Kathy said guardedly. The moment Bob had mentioned her leave, she had decided what she would do. She would have her medical board and then send the Hewitts a telegram. She would say something like
Called home unexpectedly due to illness
and would then go straight to Euston Station and catch the next train home to Liverpool. Her mam would be delighted to see her and it would put off the evil hour for as much as a week, since she had seven days’ leave owing. Furthermore, it would put the ball in Alec’s court. If he wanted to cut the connection, all he had to do was . . . nothing! He could spend whatever leave he had with his parents and then go wherever the RAF posted him. He would not need to get in touch with her or send her his address; he could simply treat their relationship as a thing of the past, best forgotten.
That’s the best plan, Kathy told herself resolutely as she got ready for bed that night in the Nissen hut at Coltishall, for the gharries had picked the harvesters up by moonlight and taken them back to their own beds. On the other hand, if Alec hasn’t changed his mind, really does still love me, then he knows very well that I live in Daisy Street and can come to me there.
Satisfied that she was doing the right thing, Kathy undressed and slid between the sheets, and, rather to her own surprise, slept soundly till morning.
Thursday came. Kathy was up very early indeed and went straight to the cookhouse where she ate a hearty breakfast of porridge, toast and dried egg accompanied by a large tin mug of tea. Then she heaved herself aboard the gharry in the pearly morning light. She was the only passenger so sat beside the driver and chatted idly to him as the lorry thundered along the winding country roads, depositing her at last outside Thorpe railway station.
‘Good luck, Corp,’ the driver shouted and Kathy turned into the station forecourt. She was trying very hard to keep her mind on her medical board but found the only thing she could think of was Alec. He was coming home! In three hours or so she would be in London, and probably a couple of hours later he would be on the very station platform on which she now stood. She could imagine him so clearly; his cap pushed to the back of his curly chestnut hair, his eyes bright and eager, his kitbag – if he had one – slung over one shoulder whilst he looked around anxiously to see whether anyone was meeting him. But it was no use thinking about Alec’s arrival and, anyway, she was sure the decision she had made was the right one.
The train came in and she was lucky enough to get a corner seat. She settled into it, sighed and glanced around her. The carriage was filling up but she recognised nobody, though there was a Waaf in the far corner and two young airmen in uniforms so new and shiny that she guessed they had been in the service weeks rather than months.
Presently, the train slid out of the station and Kathy let her attention be drawn to the beautiful day which was unfolding outside the carriage. The sun shone from a pale blue sky and in the meadows she saw the workers bringing in the harvest and knew that back in Horsey, Bob and Betty would be doing the same, for the harvest stops for no man, not even a son from the war returning.
Kathy glanced around the carriage again. The other Waaf was reading a paperback and several travellers had bought newspapers or magazines, but she had been far too preoccupied to think of such a thing. Anyway, she had always found enough entertainment in the passing scene to keep her happily occupied, no matter how long the journey. Today, however, was different. She felt herself staring, unseeingly, at meadows, woodland, streams and country cottages, whilst her mind dwelled on Alec. It occurred to her, not for the first time, that he might have been injured when jumping from the Wellington bomber. Of course, she knew he could not be seriously hurt or the people who had hidden him would, she assumed, have had to hand him to the authorities for hospital treatment. But he could have broken an ankle or an arm. Suppose he, like herself, was limping, or carried an arm awkwardly? But at that point she gave herself a resolute shake and told herself not to be an absolute fool if she could possibly help it. Neither of them knew what had happened to the other during the long months they had been apart. Her first plan had been a wise one. She was giving him space and time to settle back into a normal life. Once that period was over, then they would either meet or not, according to how he felt; more than that she could not offer him.

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