The Girl on the Beach (18 page)

‘Yes, fine. Don’t worry about me.’

‘What does your mother think about you doing this?’

‘Oh, she’s all right about it. She thinks it’s keeping me out of harm’s way.’

‘Oh, Alec, what sort of yarn have you spun her?’

He laughed. ‘Parachuting is great fun and miles away from any action. I could be on active service in Italy instead of safely in England, which I pointed out to her. And don’t you dare tell her any different.’

They were a couple now, everyone knew it, and Julie had accepted it, though she still had enormous doubts. It was a good thing, she decided, that they couldn’t think about marriage or she would have to make decisions she wasn’t ready to make. Not that she didn’t love Alec; she loved him heart and soul and knew he was ‘the one’, as Florrie would have said, but they were no nearer a solution to her dilemma. She had told Florrie about it in a very long letter and been forgiven for keeping her in the dark for so long, and Florrie had told her that if Alec wanted to marry her, then what was she waiting for? Speaking for herself,
she had never been happier and would not have forfeited her time with Matt for anything, even though it took a lot of organising and switching of duties and leaves to bring it about.

Julie knew about that because she and Alec were doing the same thing as far as they were able to, but even being on the same station did not help when he was being kept at it night and day. There was a purpose to it all, and everyone appreciated that.

The balloon jumps out of the way, Alec found himself lining up with his ‘stick’ of ten men to climb aboard a Whitley to make his first descent from an aircraft. They had to clear the aeroplane in the shortest possible time after reaching the dropping zone. It was important that they land close together because the jump was really only the beginning; they had to assemble and turn themselves into ground troops ready for battle. When the red light came on in the fuselage, they stood up and hooked themselves onto the static line which would automatically release their parachutes, and shuffled into line. The exit was through the floor and they had practised it many times, because if you didn’t jump clear the pack on your back hit the back of the opening and sent you spiralling, but jump too enthusiastically and your nose hit the front – the ‘Whitley kiss’ they called it. The first man sat on the edge. Red light changed to green and the RAF dispatcher shouted ‘Go!’ and they went out one after the other with no hesitation. A refusal to jump meant being sent back to your original unit and was the ultimate shame. ‘Go!’ was the command that governed all their training and was ingrained into their brains, so that obedience became an instinct.

‘I’ve done it,’ he told Julie after his eighth jump. ‘Passing-out
parade tomorrow and I get my wings and my red beret.’

‘Congratulations.’

‘And you know what? It’s ten days’ leave before we’re posted.’

Julie suddenly felt miserable; she had known it had to end, this being on the same station, but now it was close she realised how much she would miss him. ‘Where are you being sent?’

‘Back to Salisbury Plain, I expect.’

‘Nearer home, then.’ It was said flatly to cover her dismay.

‘Yes, but that’s not the point. The point is ten days’ leave. Can you get some leave, so we can have time together before I go?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘But you’ll try, won’t you? It’ll be the last time we’ll be able to see each other for ages. I reckon the invasion’s not too far away and all leave will be cancelled. I want to have some happy memories to take with me.’

Happy memories. Why did remembrance feature so strongly in everyone’s lives, especially her own? He wanted happy memories and so did she.

‘You do want to be with me, don’t you?’ he queried, sensing her hesitation.

‘Yes, yes, of course I do. I’ll ask.’

‘You’ll do more than ask, you’ll beg.’

She laughed. ‘OK, I’ll beg.’

If she had expected their leave to be spent at the farm she was mistaken. Florrie had told him what a wonderful time she and Matt had had on the shores of Lake Windermere and he had booked a week at the same holiday cottage. He did not tell her until they were well on their way, and she
realised with a sudden jolt that when he said he wanted them to spend their leave together, he had meant night and day. It sent her into a panic. Had he taken her agreement for granted?

Her first reaction was to tell him to turn round and go back, but that was quickly followed by ‘Why?’ Why go back? What had she to lose? Not her virginity, that had already gone, but she might lose the man she had come to love. Life was too uncertain to be prudish. She settled back in her seat and closed her eyes, letting the cool wind flow over her face and relax her. She was lucky, so very lucky, and she must make sure he knew how she felt. Her loss of memory seemed suddenly less important, not really important at all.

Slowly and surely as the year progressed, the tide of war began to turn in the Allies’ favour. The Russians had turned defeat into victory at Stalingrad and were on the offensive. They were difficult allies, in spite of the help being sent to them in Arctic convoys which braved the U-boats and the terrible weather conditions to reach them. They wanted a second front in the west to take the pressure off them. They didn’t want it any more than the British people, who were war-weary and longed for peace. An invasion of Europe would surely be the beginning of the end, but it could not be done in a hurry, and Italy had to be dealt with first.

The North Africa campaign ended in total victory, leaving the troops to turn their attention to Sicily and then to Italy. News of the invasion came on 3rd September, exactly four years after the declaration of war. Five days later the Italian government surrendered and changed sides and Italy became one of the occupied countries. The
Germans still held out and the Allies’ slow progress up the boot of Italy was frustrating for those who had been anticipating a second front that year.

It was the main topic of conversation in The Papermakers. It was always full, even when there was a shortage of beer. Half a pint could last all evening if it was larded with conversation and a game of darts or
shove-halfpenny
, which amused the Americans. They hadn’t taken over the airfield at Swanton Morley as they had done in other places, but since that first draft, they had arrived in huge numbers and spread themselves all over the country. There was no ignoring them and even those who hadn’t a good word to say for them realised they had come to be part of the invasion of mainland Europe, and if they had to invade Britain first, then so be it. There were still some in Swanton flying combined ops with the RAF. The villagers had become used to seeing them around. There had even been a couple of weddings, though the more sceptical among the population wondered what the new wives were letting themselves in for. ‘A strange country, strange customs, and how do they know their new in-laws will welcome them?’ Jane had said.

‘It’s too late this year,’ someone said gloomily, staring into his almost-empty glass, swilling the dregs round as if it would suddenly fill again. ‘Another bloody year of this.’

‘It can’t get any worse,’ Pam said. Harry was on duty, which was why she had come into the pub with her parents. She had a weak lemonade shandy on the table in front of her. She would not allow herself anything stronger because a baby was due in April the following year. ‘Perhaps the war will be over by then,’ she had said, so happy and optimistic no one had the heart to argue
with her. Harry had expressed himself ‘pleased as punch’.

‘Wanna bet?’ the landlord said. ‘Did you hear on the news there’s been more air raids on London. Don’t look like they’re ready to give up yet. At this rate there’ll be nothing left standing.’

‘There i’n’t nothin’ left standing of Hamburg,’ Bert put in. ‘We’re givin’ them hell. You ask Harry.’

Harry, along with all the other airmen, was flying almost every other night, pounding away at targets in Germany and the Low Countries, softening them up for the invasion which was sure to come. Germany was being repaid several times over for the Blitz on London and other British cities. He had told Pam the euphoria he had felt at the beginning was wearing thin, and when he looked down at the burning cities, he found himself wondering about the people down below, not only the troops which he said were legitimate targets, but the women, old men and children – women like Pam expecting new life and instead having it snuffed out. He said it was making him feel like a murderer.

Leave was in short supply that Christmas, but Julie managed a seventy-two-hour pass for the New Year and travelled down to Hillside Farm on New Year’s Eve, which was a Friday. The Kilbys made her as welcome as they always had even though they now knew her secret. As far as they were concerned she was Eve Seaton, their son’s chosen bride. If they had misgivings they certainly did not voice them.

Maggie and Julie were toasting their toes by the kitchen range after washing up the lunch things, when the door was opened. Thinking it was Walter, Julie did not look up from contemplating the flames, but Maggie did. She jumped up … ‘Alec!’ … and flew to embrace him.

Julie was on her feet as soon as she heard his name and he crossed the room and hugged her to him, kissing her soundly before she could even utter a word. It was Maggie who did all the talking. ‘Why didn’t you let us know you were coming? We’d have delayed lunch. Have you eaten? Are you hungry? How long have you got?’

He released Julie and turned to his mother, laughing. ‘I didn’t know myself, so I couldn’t let you know, and I’m due back on Sunday night. And I could eat a horse. Any more questions?’

‘Not now, later perhaps. Take Eve into the sitting room, there’s a fire in there, while I rustle up some food.’

Julie followed him into the next room and they sat down side by side on the sofa where he kissed her again, this time more thoroughly. ‘God, I’ve missed you,’ he said.

‘And I’ve missed you.’ She nestled in his arms, no longer afraid. She had seen men come and go, listened to the news and followed the conduct of the war, or as much of it as was made public, and had decided the past did not matter – especially her own past, which had no bearing on the momentous events unfolding about her – that the future was as unknown as the past, and it would be better to concentrate on the present.

‘It will be over soon and then we can think of getting married.’

‘The war, you mean.’

‘Of course the war. I reckon the invasion’s not far off and that will put paid to Hitler and all he stands for. The world will be at peace.’

‘When d’you think it will be?’

‘Your guess is as good as mine, but judging by all the training we’ve been doing, it can’t be that far away. We’ve
been on so many night exercises I feel like an owl. We’ve criss-crossed Salisbury Plain with maps so many times I’m beginning to think I know every rock and pool. Salisbury Plain in midwinter is perishing cold and we’ve been soaked to the skin many a time. We’ve dug defensive positions and been on exercises, when we’ve jumped into supposed hostile forces and practised capturing and holding bridges, and then we’ve taken our turn to be defenders on the ground. On one occasion we were dropped up in Scotland with nothing on us – no money, no identity, nothing – and told to make our own way back to camp in twenty-four hours, and if the police or MPs picked us up, we’d have failed. All good fun but none of it gave any hint as to where we’re going and when.’

‘Did you manage it?’

‘To get back? Yes, hitched a lift to start with and got as far as Manchester. I’d have stopped by to see you, but I didn’t have time. Then I got on a freight train when no one was looking, which landed me in the middle of nowhere, but there was a little country station with no one checking tickets, so I nipped on a train, dodged the ticket collector when he came round and jumped out just before it rolled into Salisbury Station. I pinched a bike for the last few miles.’

‘That was naughty of you.’

‘All’s fair in love and war. I reckon the owner got it back. The road to the camp was littered with stolen bicycles, cars and motorbikes. There was even a light aircraft. They couldn’t pin the crimes on anyone and in any case we had been told to use our initiative and a blind eye was turned. But it was made known that anyone who had had a vehicle stolen on the particular day could come and pick it up.’

‘And how could they do that if you’d taken their only means of transport?’

‘I’ve no doubt a bit of initiative was called for,’ he told her wryly. ‘Anyway, they were paid compensation. Enough of me – what have you been up to?’

‘The usual. Minding the stores. We’re not getting so many training courses at Ringway now so perhaps you’re up to strength. I might get moved.’

‘Any idea where?’

‘No.’

Maggie called them back to the kitchen, where she had cooked bacon, eggs and fried bread for Alec. He sat down and attacked it with gusto. ‘Anyone would think you were starving,’ she said, watching him eat.

‘I am.’

Julie laughed. ‘You’re lucky your people live on a farm. You should see what townspeople have to manage on. Even tea is rationed now and the cheese ration’s reduced again. There’s a lot of scrounging and dodgy dealing going on.’

‘You’ll always get that, town or country,’ Maggie pointed out.

He put down his knife and fork with a satisfied sigh and turned to Julie. ‘What do you fancy doing tonight, sweetheart?’

‘I don’t mind. You choose.’

‘There’s a New Year’s Eve dance in Andover,’ his mother suggested.

‘Fancy that?’ he asked Julie.

‘Yes, why not?’

Walter had come in while Alec was eating, and having greeted his son, he sat down to remove his boots and put on his slippers, warming on the fender. ‘You can take the
car if you like,’ he said. ‘There’s petrol in it.’

The weather was cold; Julie changed out of uniform into a green woollen dress with a matching bolero which could be removed if it became too warm in the dance hall, brushed out her short hair, applied a little make-up and donned high-heeled shoes. It was lovely to be in civvies again and even lovelier to be with Alec. That had been a surprise, but a very welcome one.