Read One Step at a Time Online
Authors: Beryl Matthews
Although Amy longed to return to their home in Chelsea, she had to stay put because things got even worse. In early September, the first V
2
rockets landed on London, killing and injuring many. The flying bombs could be heard and seen, and some had been destroyed before they could reach their targets, but there was no defence against the rockets. There was no sound until they exploded.
Sitting in the garden enjoying the September sunshine, Charles lifted his face to the warmth and sighed. ‘These rockets are Hitler’s last effort. Paris was liberated last month, so we’re making progress.’
There had been great celebrations when that had happened, but there was sadness for Amy as she remembered how John had wanted to take her there for their honeymoon, and promised they would go there together after the war. Dreams that would now never come true.
‘And do you know what tomorrow is?’ Charles swept his granddaughter off the grass, making her giggle.
‘Mummy said it’s my birthday and we’re going to have a party.’
‘That’s right, and lots of people are coming. There’s Ted and Mrs Dalton coming for the day, and the neighbours’ three children.’
‘Oh, goody!’ She beamed at her grandmother and struggled to get down. ‘Can we have cakes?’
‘I think I can manage that.’
Grace began to run excitedly around, chanting that they were going to have a lovely party. Then she stopped suddenly. ‘Will Oscar be coming?’
‘Cats don’t like travelling,’ Amy told her, ‘but I expect he’ll send you a card.’
‘Oh.’ The disappointment at not seeing her favourite animal was evident. ‘Will he still be there when we go home?’
‘Yes, he will.’ Amy studied her daughter. She was happy living here. Her grandparents loved her, she
had made friends with children her own age, but it was obvious she missed everyone in Chelsea, including the cat who followed her around all the time. He used to be Amy’s companion, but as soon as Grace had arrived he had transferred his affections to the little girl. Cats were fickle creatures, she thought with amusement.
‘Mummy?’
‘Yes?’
‘When will Uncle Howard and Uncle Ben be coming home?’
‘We had hoped it would be by this Christmas, but it doesn’t look like that will happen.’ Amy gave Charles a questioning look. ‘What do you think?’
‘Well, there’s the winter ahead of them now, so that might slow down the advance, but my guess is that it will be over by spring of next year.’
Grace puffed out her cheeks as she thought about it. ‘That’s a long time, isn’t it?’
They all agreed that it was, each one yearning for the end of the awful conflict.
It had been a terrible blow when the wireless set had been discovered and taken away. They felt really cut off now without regular updates on the progress of the invasion forces. The landings at Normandy were the last they had heard before the guards had found the set. They had a couple of engineers working on another one, but parts were hard to come by, even with Charlie’s thieving skills.
Since the invasion, the guards’ attitude had changed. Some were going out of their way to be friendly, others had become even more hostile.
Ben prowled the fence, head down. There were a multitude of emotions snaking through him: frustration; anger; the awful feeling of being cut off from the real world. It felt as if he had been here for ever. The laughter and fun of the Chelsea house were like a dream now, but he could remember every inch of his studio, smell the paints and turpentine. The memory of holding a brush or palette knife in his hands was painful. Would he ever be able to paint again, after spending years in this damned terrible place? He missed his family and friends, like everyone else, but his greatest deprivation was not being able to paint. Until he had been put in this camp, he hadn’t realized just how much it had meant to him. Being an artist was all he had dreamt of doing for as long as he could remember…
‘Ben!’ Shorty joined him, looking animated. ‘There’s news. The Major wants to see us all in hut nine.’
‘Do you know what it is?’
‘Nope, but he’s pretty chuffed about something. Perhaps they’ve got the wireless going.’
‘I hope so. Not knowing what’s going on beyond that wire is enough to drive me mad.’ Ben turned and strode towards the hut, with Shorty trotting to keep up with his long strides.
The hut was packed and they only managed to
push in right at the back. Some hadn’t been able to get in and were hanging in the open windows.
‘I’ll make this as short as possible, because the guards will soon come to see what we’re up to.’ The Major held up his hand for silence. ‘We’ve managed to get a wireless working, and there are two important pieces of news. Paris was liberated last month.’
A loud cheer went up.
‘Quiet! We’ve also heard reports of London being bombed again with unmanned flying bombs and rockets.’
‘Oh my God!’ Shorty went pale. ‘Hope my wife and kids have had the sense to move to the country.’
‘But the bastards must be about finished,’ one of the other prisoners growled in rage. ‘If the Allies are in Paris, then they’ll keep going until they reach Berlin.’
‘They will, and that’s why I’m going to order you to stop all attempts to escape.’
There was a disgruntled mutter.
‘I know it’s tough to ask that of you, but we don’t want to antagonize the guards. Let’s sit tight, keep our heads down, and see how things shape up. We could be free in a few months.’
At that moment the guards burst in, ordering everyone out to the yard for a roll call.
They were carefully counted, and when it was found that they were all present, they were dismissed.
Ben continued his prowl, hands clenched into tight fists as frustration raged through him. He knew every
inch of the damned barbed wire, and he wasn’t the only one who had made a habit of walking the perimeter over the years. Are you in Paris, Howard? A few letters had reached the camp, but nothing for him. And what about his parents, Amy, John, Ted and Mrs Dalton? Had they survived the Blitz, only to be in danger from these new weapons? Who was he going to find waiting for him when he did eventually arrive home? Not knowing what was happening out there was torture. He had never felt so helpless in his life.
Shorty walked with him, his expression equally concerned. ‘Good news, and bad news, eh?’
Ben nodded, lifted his head and sighed, glancing down at his friend in sympathy. ‘Your wife would have taken herself and the children out of London, Shorty. She wouldn’t risk anything happening to them, would she?’
‘Nah.’ His usual cheery smile was back. ‘Course not. My missus is a sensible girl, and loves the kids too much to see them frightened. Bloody worrying, though.’
Ben nodded in agreement. At least he knew that John wouldn’t allow Amy to be in danger. She was probably spending the war with his parents in Hampshire. ‘I wish I was out there fighting with the others.’
‘I know you do, so do I, but we’ve got to put up with this for a bit longer.’ He hunched his shoulders. ‘All we’ve got to do is stay alive until the boys reach us, and the first thing I’m going to ask for is a packet of fags.’
That made Ben chuckle, and consider his friend with respect. If it hadn’t been for Shorty, he would have gone mad long ago, and perhaps done something reckless and got himself killed. ‘You and your cigarettes.’
‘Addicted, that’s what I am, but I tell you what, Ben, once we get back to London, I’ll buy you a pint, and chain-smoke my way through a packet of twenty.’
‘I’ll keep you to that.’
The birthday party was a riotous success, with Amy and the grandparents having as much fun as the children. Three of the neighbours’ children had come, each bearing a small gift for the birthday girl, making Grace beam with pleasure. For a few hours the war was forgotten.
Ted and Mrs Dalton caught the late afternoon train back to London. Amy knew her daughter missed them as much as she did, but hopefully the war would soon be over and they could all be together again.
Little Grace seemed to have boundless energy and wouldn’t allow them to sleep in the next day. They were all laughing about the party, and Grace’s excitement was still bubbling over. But when Amy saw Ted walking up the path around midday, her pleasure faded.
She rushed to meet him, knowing something must have happened to bring him back so quickly. He looked very serious, and that frightened the life out of her. ‘What’s happened?’
‘Howard’s been injured. He’s in a military hospital in Aldershot.’
‘Oh no! How bad is he?’ Amy held on to Ted for support. ‘I must go to him.’
‘He’s got shrapnel wounds to his back and one arm, and a broken leg. There’s no need for you to go all that way.’ Ted took hold of her hand. ‘His parents are with him, and Chrissie is also working at the same hospital, so he’s being taken good care of. The doctors have said that he will make a full recovery.’
‘Oh, thank goodness.’
‘Ted, can you get a message to Howard? We’ve got plenty of room, and he can convalesce here.’ Charles glanced at his wife who was nodding approval. ‘Mr and Mrs Palmer will be welcome to stay as well.’
‘They’ll appreciate that. I’ll let them know.’
Amy desperately wanted to go and see Howard, but Ted was right, he was being well looked after. ‘Send him my love as well, Ted, and tell him to hurry up and get better.’
35
Over the next few weeks, Howard gradually recovered, but it was the middle of December before he was strong enough to come and stay with John’s parents. Much to everyone’s relief it was clear that he would make a full recovery from his injuries.
His parents had managed to save enough petrol to bring him down in their car, and when they arrived he had to be helped out, and stood beside the car leaning heavily on a stick. But that didn’t stop little Grace from rushing up, all excited, and dancing around waiting to be picked up. Amy watched the scene in wonder. Her daughter had seen so little of Howard, and yet, whenever he turned up, she greeted him like this. Would she do the same with Ben, she wondered, or would she be cautious with a man she had only heard them talk about? Everyone said that the war would be over next year, but the worry remained. Since being told that he was a prisoner, they’d received no further news. Had he seen any of the letters she had written to him over the years? She hoped he had, but they were probably all sitting in some army office, gathering dust. Stay safe, was her constant prayer. Howard had survived and, having been declared unfit for further duty, was now
out of the army. That was something to be grateful for.
She saw Grace reaching up to Howard, chattering away, expecting to be swept up high, as Howard always did when he saw her, but not this time. ‘Grace!’
She spun round to look at her mother, holding on to Howard’s hand.
‘Uncle Howard can’t pick you up this time.’ She hurried over and kissed him on the cheek. ‘Oh, it’s good to see you. We’ve all been so worried about you.’
‘Why are you walking like that?’ Grace asked as she trotted beside him as they made their way towards the house.
‘Because I broke my leg,’ he explained.
‘Ow, did it hurt?’
‘Very much, but it will be all right soon, and then I’ll be able to pick you up again.’
That promise produced a huge smile, and she danced up to her grandmother, telling her what Howard had said.
He watched, his hand resting on Amy’s shoulder, then he gave it a squeeze. ‘She’s growing into the image of John, except for her hair.’ He grinned down at her. ‘That’s an unruly bush, just like yours.’
‘I hope that’s all she’s inherited from me.’ This was still a worry for Amy, but they would know for sure in another year or two.
‘She’ll be able to read and write, Amy,’ Howard said gently. ‘It’s most unlikely that the problem you have will be passed on to her.’
‘I hope you’re right.’ She smiled up at him, pleased he was going to stay with them until the New Year. ‘Now, you go and sit by that lovely wood fire while I help Mildred get the tea.’
The house was packed for Christmas with Ted and Mrs Dalton also staying over. Amy and Grace gave up their room and slept on the settee in the lounge, which the little girl thought was great fun.
Howard was delighted when Chrissie was able to join them for two days, and they toasted in 1945 together. But the absence of John and Ben was sorely felt.
By early January, Howard was walking without the aid of a stick, and able to move his arm freely.
Amy watched him staring out of the window as the weather made a half-hearted attempt to snow. He was brooding about something. She stood beside him, and asked softly, ‘What’s the matter, Howard?’
He glanced down at her and pulled a face. ‘I’m restless. I need to work, Amy, so I’ve decided to go back to Chelsea and try to get my life back in order.’
Ah, so that was it. She had been watching him for the last week; he had been quiet, distracted, and clearly bored with the inactivity. She wasn’t surprised by his decision. In fact, she had been feeling much the same herself. ‘Good idea. We’ll come with you.’ She slipped her hand through his arm. ‘The war can’t last much longer, and we must start planning for when we open our shop again.’
His face came to life with a slow grin of pleasure. ‘I’ll make some pots and you can decorate them, and there’s a sculpture in my head that I’m eager to start.’
‘You going to tell me what it is?’ How wonderful it would be to get those old times back, she thought, though she knew they would never be quite the same again after all they had been through. But it was comforting to start planning for the future.
‘Nope, you’ll have to wait and see. What about Grace, will you leave her here?’
‘I can’t bear to be parted from her, and things seem to be quiet at the moment, so we’ll both come home.’
‘Don’t forget Manchester was hit by V one bombs on Christmas Eve. The danger might not be over yet.’
‘Oh, I don’t know.’ She looked up with a wide grin on her face. ‘The Home Guard were decommissioned in early December, so the politicians must think the war’s as good as over.’