One Step at a Time (32 page)

‘Oh, thank God!’ Both spoke at the same time, and then waited anxiously for her to continue.

‘He said Ben was still at Dunkirk with the rearguard trying to protect the evacuation, and would be amongst the last to leave.’

‘He’s still alive then.’ Mrs Scott’s hands were shaking.

‘Yes, as far as we know.’

‘Tell us what it’s like when the ships arrive.’ There was a little more colour in Mr Scott’s face now.

For the next hour she talked, explaining about the ships, big and small, and the help that was there to greet the returning men.

As she drove back to Chelsea she hoped her visit had been of some help, but no amount of optimistic talk could hide the fact that Ben was in grave danger.

All they could do now was wait.

28

The first week in June and Dunkirk fell. The manner of the evacuation was being hailed as a marvel, but Amy felt only a crushing sadness. There was no sign of Ben. He hadn’t made it back, and France was now under German control.

She was clearing up the breakfast things when she heard a noise above her. Someone was moving around in Ben’s studio. She knew it couldn’t be Mrs Dalton or Ted because they were both out. Had Ben come back and they hadn’t known? She ran upstairs, her heart in her mouth. The door was closed, so she opened it carefully. There was someone there in army uniform, standing utterly still, gazing at an unfinished painting. He wasn’t quite tall enough to be Ben.

‘Howard.’ She spoke softly and went to stand beside him, slipping her hand through his arm, feeling the rough texture of khaki under her fingers and the tenseness of his muscles.

He covered her hand with his, squeezing it as he began to speak. ‘We’ve known each other since we were three years old. We lived next door to each other until Ben’s parents moved away five years ago. We went to the same schools, the same university, left together and came here…’ He bowed his head,
voice husky with emotion. ‘He’s always been around, solid and dependable. I can’t imagine life without him.’

‘He’ll be back.’ Amy had caught the tone of hopelessness in Howard’s voice; he believed his friend was dead.

‘You don’t know what it was like over there. It was hell, Amy. Those left behind were on a suicide mission to protect the thousands of men on the beaches. They wouldn’t have stood a chance…’

‘He’ll be back,’ she repeated firmly. ‘If he was dead I’d know it.’

Howard glanced down at her taking in the determination in her voice and stance. ‘I do believe you would,’ he said slowly.

‘Now.’ She was resolved not to let him brood. ‘Are you on leave? Can you stay for a while?’

‘No, sorry, I’ve only got a forty-eight-hour pass. I’m on my way to my parents, but I stopped off to see Ben’s family before coming here.’ His expression was tortured. ‘They’ve received notice that he is reported missing.’

‘Well, what else could they say? He obviously didn’t get on one of the ships. He might be hiding in France or taken prisoner. It doesn’t mean he’s dead, Howard, so if you’ve come to say goodbye to Ben, then don’t, because he’ll walk through that door one day, pick up a brush and start painting as if he’d never been away.’

He turned to face her, giving her a hug. ‘I hope
you’re right. You’re a real tonic, Amy. Tell John, Ted and Mrs Dalton I’ll see them next time I’m on leave.’

She saw him out and watched him stride up the road. She knew how he felt. A part of his life was now missing, and it was the same for her, but she hadn’t given up hope, and neither must he. She must go and see Ben’s parents at once.

August of 1940 came in hot and fine with clear skies, and the expected invasion hadn’t materialized.

‘Hitler’s made an almighty blunder by not invading immediately after the fall of France.’ Ted shook his head as if he couldn’t understand it.

They were all sitting in their favourite place, around the kitchen table. John was home for a couple of precious days, and Amy cherished these times together.

‘He’s got to knock out our air force first.’ John stirred his tea, sighing. ‘Those poor devils in the air are involved in the most desperate fight. Some of the injuries the pilots are suffering from burning planes are dreadful. When this lot’s over I’m thinking of going into reconstructive surgery. Do you know they are rebuilding faces?’

‘Oh, the poor souls.’ Mrs Dalton was clearly upset. ‘So many young men are fighting and dying over our heads.’

‘They know the importance of what they’re doing. By their courage and determination, they have given this country a chance to recover. A much needed few months to replace the armaments left in France, and
strengthen our forces.’ Ted poured himself another cup of tea.

‘But what a terrible price.’ Amy spoke for the first time. She was as aware as everyone else of what was happening. ‘The Battle of Britain’, Churchill had called it after Dunkirk.

‘But I tell you what’ – Ted leant forward – ‘if our fighter pilots can defeat the might of the Luftwaffe, then we shall win. What is happening now is crucial to the outcome of the war.’

‘It’s a lot to ask of one small country though, isn’t it?’ Mrs Dalton’s expression was grim. ‘If we only had some help.’

‘If you’re looking to America, then don’t bother.’ John sat back. ‘They’re helping by sending food and ammunition, but they won’t enter the war unless provoked.’

‘No, of course not, and you can’t blame the ordinary American people for wanting to stay out of the conflict.’ Mrs Dalton poured the cat a saucer of milk. He seemed to be the only one untouched by the talk of war.

‘Most of the world doesn’t think we stand a chance.’ Ted slapped his hand on the table. ‘But they’re wrong! By God, they’re wrong. It’s going to be a grim fight, but I can’t ever see this country surrendering.’

‘I agree.’ John stood up. ‘Are you ready, Amy? I told Mum and Dad we’d be there for lunch.’

*

‘Any news of Ben?’ It was always the first question they were asked when they visited John’s parents.

‘No.’ Amy shook her head. ‘But in this case, no news is good news, as Mrs Dalton keeps reminding us.’

‘His parents must be frantic with worry. Not knowing what’s happened to him must be so hard to cope with.’ Mr Sterling handed them both a small sherry to drink before lunch.

‘They are dreadfully worried, of course, but’ – Amy gave a bright smile – ‘like me, they believe he could still be alive.’

John watched Amy, her chin tilted up at a determined angle, and marvelled at her strength of character. When they married he had thought he couldn’t love her any more than he already did, but he had been wrong. He knew what Ben meant to her, and yet she never allowed her smile to dim when talking about him, or her conviction falter that he was alive somewhere. She spent her time visiting his parents, giving comfort and bolstering up their hopes, and writing letters to Howard, her tongue between her teeth with the effort. He couldn’t imagine what it was like not to be able to read or write without a tremendous effort, but she never complained, and never stopped trying to improve. Ben had told him once that Amy was special, and he wholeheartedly agreed with that.

After lunch they took their tea into the garden and sat in the shade of an apple tree.

‘Look at that.’ John’s father pointed to the trails in the sky. ‘There’s a dogfight going on up there.’

They all stared up, silent, until Mrs Sterling spoke.

‘What’s going to happen next, John? Will they start bombing civilians?’

‘I expect so, if they can’t break our air force. And London is bound to be the first on their list.’

‘Amy, why don’t you come and stay with us?’ Mrs Sterling looked at her hopefully. ‘We’ve got plenty of room and would love to have you live here with us.’

‘That’s kind of you, Mrs Sterling, but I wouldn’t like to be away from John, or Ted and Mrs Dalton. We’ve got an Anderson shelter in the garden, so we’ll be safe enough. I won’t run away. If John stays, then I’m staying.’

John knew from the set of her mouth that she meant it. Nothing would make her leave those she loved, no matter how bad things became.

‘Don’t worry, Mum.’ He laughed. ‘If it gets too dangerous, I’ll bring her to you, even if I have to shove her in the boot. She’s small enough to fit in.’ He ducked as she aimed a playful punch at him.

‘Don’t you dare try it. I am in the WVS, you know, and will be needed in a crisis. I’ve learnt to drive quite a large van loaded with tea urns and other necessities.’

‘Can you reach the pedals?’ he teased.

‘Just about.’ She giggled. ‘One of the women’s husbands said he could fit wooden blocks on the pedals to make it easier for me, but I told him I can manage.’

John raised his eyes to the heavens. ‘I don’t know what she gets up to when I’m not there. Can you imagine her driving a large van?’

‘I’ll have you know that I’m a very good driver. Ben taught me.’ A faint cloud crossed her expression for a fleeting moment, then it was gone, and her smile was firmly back in place.

God, how he loved her.

On the way home, Amy watched the passing scenery with a smile on her face. She always enjoyed their visits to John’s parents. They were so nice…

‘I think you should consider Mum and Dad’s offer to stay with them, Amy.’

‘Are you trying to get rid of me?’ she teased.

‘No, but I want you to be safe should the bombing start.’

‘Darling.’ She shuffled close and leant against his shoulder. ‘Do you think I could stand it being safe and cosy, knowing you were in danger all the time?’

‘I’d get down and see you every spare moment.’

‘Where would you get the petrol from? You know this is the last time we can use the car for a while. And anyway, there’s no point in discussing this because I must be where you are. I promise I’ll go to the shelter if things get too close, but I want to be there and know you’ll be able to come home and find me waiting for you. Day or night.’

He glanced at her briefly, then back at the road. ‘I like the sound of the “night” bit.’

‘Me too.’ She sighed and nestled her cheek on his shoulder. ‘Don’t send me away, John. I couldn’t bear to be parted from you.’

‘All right, but let’s just pray that our fears are groundless. I know this is a hell of a time to start our married life, but we’ll get through this and grow old together, surrounded by our children and grandchildren.’

‘That’s a future I can really look forward to.’ She grinned up at him. ‘How many children shall we have?’

‘Oh, at least six.’

‘Sounds good to me. I always wanted to belong to a large family.’ Her happiness faded. ‘Do you think any of our children will be like me?’

‘I hope so.’

‘No, I mean, do you think they will have trouble with words like I do?’

‘I really don’t know, darling. A couple of doctors I’ve spoken to are aware that a condition like yours does exist in a very few people, but they haven’t discovered the cause of it yet.’

‘Let’s hope they do, because I don’t want our children to be called stupid. It hurts, John.’

‘That won’t happen because we’ll have your experience to guide us. I’ve watched your frustration as you’ve struggled, and you have made a lot of progress. Our children will have both of us to help them.’

‘I thought I was the only one in the world who
couldn’t read, and until I met Ted no one tried to help me, except my granny, of course.’ She brightened. ‘Our children won’t have to try and deal with it on their own, and they’ll have two wonderful godfathers who understand as well.’

John pulled the car over and stopped, turning to face her. ‘You do realize that the longer we go without news of Ben, the fewer are the chances that he’s still alive.’

‘I know that, darling.’ Her eyes swam with unshed tears. ‘I’m not a fool. If I’ve got to bury him, then I’ll grieve, but while there’s a shred of hope, I’ll cling to it.’

‘I’m sorry to have pointed that out to you, but I needed to know you were prepared to face the worse, should it happen.’

‘I’m prepared, and I’ll face it.’

29

‘What the hell’s happening?’ Mrs Dalton hurried into the kitchen, colliding with Ted, who was cramming his tin hat on his head and grabbing for his gas mask.

‘Looks like they’re bombing the docks! Get in the shelter, both of you!’

Oscar was cowering under the table as the sirens wailed out the warning, so Amy picked him up and hurried to the shelter with Mrs Dalton right behind her. Once safely inside they listened to the drone of planes and the crunch of bombs as they rained down.

‘So, it’s started.’

Amy nodded, trying to soothe the terrified cat. ‘It’s all right, Oscar, they’re not near us.’

He didn’t look as if he believed that and scrambled out of her arms to burrow under a blanket. It visibly shook as they watched.

‘I wonder where John is?’ Amy chewed her lips with worry.

‘He’ll be busy at the hospital tonight.’ Mrs Dalton pulled a small bar of chocolate out of her pocket and handed Amy a piece.

‘Where did you get this?’

‘Been saving it for such an occasion.’ Mrs Dalton sucked the sweet. ‘As soon as the all clear sounds I’m
going to see if there’s anything I can do. People are going to be homeless after this night.’

‘I’m coming with you.’

‘Good, we might need you to drive the van. It looks like the East End is taking a pasting. September the seventh is a day we’re all going to remember.’

When the all clear sounded, they scrambled out and faced in the direction of the London docks. The red glow in the sky told the story.

‘Oh, dear God.’ Mrs Dalton grabbed Amy’s arm. ‘Come on, we’ll be needed.’

They ran to the hall used by the WVS and pushed aside the blackout curtain to find the room full of women.

‘Ah, good, you’ve made it.’ Mrs Porter sailed towards them. ‘We’ve just received word that the homeless are being taken to schools and church halls. People will be in shock. Amy, will you drive the van?’

‘Yes, Mrs Porter.’

She clapped her hands. ‘Let’s get going, ladies.’

They weren’t allowed near the fires, but were directed to a nearby school. Amy knew the area well as it was where she had grown up, and couldn’t help wondering if her old street was still standing. But there wasn’t time to waste, for the school hall was crowded with people, ranging from the very young to the elderly. All were clearly shocked, but were sitting quietly, except for a couple of babies crying for their feed.