The Fleethaven Trilogy (83 page)

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Authors: Margaret Dickinson

Tags: #Fiction, #Sagas, #Classics

BOOK: The Fleethaven Trilogy
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‘Everyone else got back on time. Where were you?’ Philip barked, his handsome face creased with angry lines.

‘We took a walk, sir.’

‘We? Who’s we?’

‘Danny Eland, sir.’

‘Oh!’ For a moment he seemed nonplussed. ‘That’s – er – Danny from home?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘I – didn’t realize he was stationed nearby.’

Kate remained silent, her gaze fixed on the top button of his jacket. Philip ran his hand distractedly through his short, springy hair. ‘I was worried sick, Kate. Don’t ever do that to me again.’

‘What?’ she could not prevent the surprise in her tone. His remark – nor the tone in his voice now – was not that of a commanding officer. Then she recollected herself. ‘No, sir.’

He stood up and came round the desk. ‘You can stop standing there like you’re on parade now.’

She relaxed and, for the first time, met his eyes. The anger had gone, but the anxiety still lingered. ‘A girl was injured last week walking back to camp in the night. It was an accident, of course, but in the blackout, the driver didn’t see her,’ he explained softly. ‘I couldn’t get it out of my mind when I knew you weren’t back.’

‘How did you know I wasn’t back?’ she asked in a small voice.

He smiled now, a little sheepishly, Kate thought. ‘Oh, I – er – sent for you. Your friends tried to cover for you valiantly, but it was obvious you weren’t there and that they didn’t know where you were.’

‘I’m sorry. Did you want driving somewhere?’

‘No,’ he said, but did not offer any further explanation.

Kate was thankful that Philip took no further action against her or Flight Sergeant Martin, although it rather surprised her. He had been so very angry at first, yet his fury seemed to stem from anxiety about her safety rather than that she had broken the rules.

She doubted Danny had been so fortunate and she waited anxiously for a letter. But the days went by, a week and then two, and no word came from Danny.

‘The Adj has just rung through,’ Chiefy bent his head under the raised bonnet of the Humber where Kate was changing the plugs. ‘CO’s been summoned to a high level meeting at Group HQ. You’re likely to be very late back . . .’ He grinned at her. ‘
Officially
, this time!’

‘Sir!’ Kate smiled and connected the final plug. She packed up her tool kit, wiped her hands on a rag and then sprinted to the wash-room.

Seven hours later she was dozing fitfully in the car parked in the sweeping driveway of Group Headquarters when the sudden sound of someone opening the passenger door and climbing in made her jump.

‘Oh, I’m sorry, sir . . .’

‘Don’t apologize, Kate,’ Philip said gently, his voice heavy with tiredness. ‘I hope you haven’t been sitting here all this time. Have you had something to eat?’

‘Oh yes, I’ve been fine. I only came back to the car about an hour ago when I heard the meeting was breaking up.’

‘Yes. Sorry about that, I got caught up with the CO from East Markham. I’m afraid he needs a lift back, Kate. His car broke down on the way here. He’ll be here in a minute.’

Wearily, Philip removed his hat and ran his fingers through his thick hair that curled so tightly each curl was like a coiled spring. He leaned his head back against the seat and closed his eyes.

‘Er, shouldn’t you really sit in the back, sir?’ Kate said hesitantly, reluctant to disturb him, but if they were to have company in the car . . .

His head snapped up and his eyes opened. ‘Oh Lord, yes.’ As he opened the door and swung his legs out, Kate was sure she heard him mutter, ‘ . . . and I was so looking forward to sitting in front with you.’

By the time Group Captain Sellick appeared and Kate hopped out to open the door for him, Philip was sitting sedately in the back seat.

‘This is very decent of you, Trent.’

‘Not at all,’ she heard Philip reply as they left Grantham and headed out into the black country road. The moonlight was only fitful as heavy clouds scudded across it. One moment the landscape was bathed in silvery light, the next plunged into pitch blackness. Thank goodness for all that rigorous night driving during training, Kate thought.

Suddenly she slammed both her feet down hard on the brake and the clutch pedal as a black shape loomed up directly in front. The heavy car slithered to the right, throwing the occupants sliding about the back seat.

‘What the devil?’ she heard one of them mutter as the car came to a halt on the grass verge. Kate half turned her head to see the sorrowful faces of several cows pressed close to the car windows.

‘Ahem – it seems they have us surrounded,’ Group Captain Sellick said, making no effort to move.

Kate was out of the car and closing the door behind her. ‘Come on, cush, cush. Now where have you lot come from, I wonder?’ Out in the night air, her eyes became more accustomed to the darkness. She moved among the cows, gently pushing them. ‘There, there, girl . . . Ah, now I see.’ Dimly, in the fitful moonlight, she could see that the hedge into a nearby field had been trampled down. ‘And I see you’ve brought Dobbin with you too, have you?’ she added, laughing softly to herself as she saw a cart-horse amongst the herd.

Slapping the rump of the nearest cow, she turned it and shooed it back towards the opening, all the time murmuring soothing encouragement. Thankfully, she saw the rest of the herd turn and follow the lead of the first cow.

‘Want any help?’ she heard Philip call.

‘Can you get hold of the horse and bring him along?’ she called back. ‘They’ve got out of a hole in the hedge here. He must have been in the same field.’

He seemed to hesitate a moment before he said, ‘Right.’

It took a good twenty minutes to get all the cows back into the field and lastly the horse, who seemed the most reluctant of all to return.

‘Come on, boy,’ Kate said, letting him nuzzle her hand. ‘I’d have brought a sugar lump if I’d known we were going to meet like this.’

Philip’s voice came out of the blackness. ‘Oh, I don’t mind about the sugar.’

Kate giggled. ‘Careful, he might hear you . . .’

‘Not him! He’s staying safely in the car. You’d never think he was a DFC and yet daren’t get in amongst a herd of cows.’

‘Can you grab hold of his mane on your side? Come on, boy.’ There was a pause while they struggled to get the horse to move. Suddenly it shot forward, through the hole and into the field.

‘Thank goodness,’ Kate breathed relief. Together they turned to walk back towards the car.

Philip sneezed three times in quick succession. ‘Maybe he’s getting ready to award
you
the DFC Through the darkness she heard his deep chuckle. ‘Not the Distinguished Flying Cross, of course. I was thinking more of something like . . . Dispersing Frightening Cows.’

Reaching the car, Kate stifled her laughter. As she started the engine, Group Captain Sellick asked casually, ‘Brought up on a farm, were you, driver?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Ah – that explains it then.’

Beside him, Philip sneezed again – three times.

When they delivered their passenger to East Markham, Kate thought fleetingly that maybe Danny was quite close . . . Then, in the dim light, Kate’s attention was caught by the sight of a dark patch on the right side of Philip’s face. And he was still sneezing every few minutes. As they pulled away from the gate, she asked with concern, ‘Are you all right, sir?’

‘Kate – we’re on our own now. Drop all this “sir” nonsense. Yes, thanks, I’m fine.’ He didn’t sound it, she thought. He sounded as if he had suddenly developed a dreadful head cold.

‘But – your face . . .?’

‘It’s only a rash. It was the horse.’

Mystified, she repeated, ‘The horse?’

‘I get a kind of hay-fever when I get near horses and dogs.’

‘Really? Oh, I am sorry. I wouldn’t have asked you to help if I’d known.’

‘It’s nothing. It’ll wear off after a time.’

‘And the rash on your face . . .?’

‘I touched the horse and then my face. It’s all part of the allergy.’ He grinned. ‘Pull over a minute. I think I’ll sit up front with you – at least until we get back near camp. I rather like sitting next to you,
Corporal
Hilton.’

‘Pardon?’

‘Oh yes,’ Philip said airily as he got in beside her. ‘I’ve recommended you for promotion. You’ll be made up to corporal next week.’

Kate was thankful for the darkness for she knew her face was pink with pleasure.

‘You should have seen the East Markham CO sitting rigidly in the middle of the back seat, hardly daring to move!’ Kate regaled the others with her story later that night. ‘And then poor old Ph . . .’ Quickly she corrected herself. ‘Our poor old CO, when he got out to help me, started sneezing his head off. Seems he gets a type of hay-fever from horses and dogs.’

Mavis was nodding. ‘My dad does and so does my younger brother. It can be hereditary, evidently.’

‘Really?’ Kate said. ‘I can’t say I’ve ever heard of it before. I know about ordinary hay-fever of course, but not from animals.’

‘Good job you don’t get it, Kate, brought up among all the moo-moos and gee-gees, you’d never stop sneezing!’ Isobel drawled.

Kate glanced across at Isobel lying languidly on her bed blowing smoke rings into the air. Isobel would never change completely, she thought. The odd snide remark slipped out occasionally. Right now she was probably feeling miffed at the news of Kate’s promotion.

Kate smiled to herself. There was a vast difference in one way, though; now Kate was strong enough not to be hurt by anything Isobel said.

The early months of 1941 had been gripped with wintry weather and operations were often cancelled. But with the coming of spring, activity at Suddaby increased. Almost nightly there were bombing raids over enemy territory and Philip never left the station when ‘his boys’ were away on a raid. Kate was kept busy driving him around the huge airfield; to briefing sessions, watching the ground crews bombing-up, and then later out to dispersal. Often he would ask Kate to drive the bus taking the crews out to the waiting aircraft, climbing aboard the vehicle himself and staying with the airmen until the last moment.

Kate’s admiration for the pilots and the other members of the crews grew. They laughed and joked on the bus, as if they were on a jolly works outing, flirting a little with her as they clattered down the steps in their bulky flying jackets and boots.

‘See you later, sweetheart.’

‘How about a date on Saturday night, gorgeous?’

On one such trip, she met Sandy Petersen again when she drove him and the rest of the crew of T-Tommy out to their aircraft. Sandy, with hair the colour to match his nickname, was a little more persistent in his approach. ‘There’s a good film on in Lincoln on Friday. If we’re not flying would you like to go?’

Kate smiled. ‘Yes, thanks, Sandy. I would.’

The smile he gave her as he waved goodbye stayed with her through the long night. She waved as he crossed the tarmac towards the huge bulk of the waiting aircraft. In the dusk she saw him raise his right arm in farewell.

Kate turned the bus around to drive Philip back to the control tower where they went up on to the roof to watch take-off. On clear, fine nights they would stay out in the open, only sheltering in the glass observation room if it were cold or wet.

As the engines of the sixteen Avro Manchesters burst into life and taxied out on to the runways, the ground seemed to vibrate with their throbbing; the whole world seemed filled with noise. They took off, labouring into the night sky, cumbersome with their weight of bombs. Then, for those left behind, came the long hours of dreadful waiting.

‘Take me back to my office, would you, Kate? I’ll try to get an hour or so shut-eye.’

As she pulled up outside the door of the building housing the CO’s office and was about to open her car door, she felt his hand on her arm.

‘Kate . . .’ he began, strangely hesitant. ‘Would it – would it compromise you too much if I were to ask you to come in and have a drink with me?’

She looked at him through the gloom. ‘No – of course not.’

She saw the gleam of his teeth as he smiled. ‘Come on, then,’ he whispered, gleefully conspiratorial.

‘Sit down,’ he invited, closing the door of his office and moving to the cabinet where he had a bottle and glasses stowed away. ‘I hate these hours when they’re away,’ he murmured. ‘And yet, it’s almost worse when they come back and you’re counting the aircraft, willing them all back safely and yet knowing . . .’

He left the rest of his sentence unsaid. Placing a drink before her, he sat down in his chair, taking off his cap and running his hand across his forehead, up and through his hair. He let out a deep sigh. ‘Oh, Kate, my dear girl, don’t get too involved with any of them, will you?’

Kate looked up, a sharp reply on her lips. What business was it of his what she did in her off-duty time? What right had he to give her such advice?

Her mouth set in a rebellious line, she said shortly, ‘I won’t.’

He sat twirling the glass, watching the swirling liquid. She heard him sigh deeply and then, deliberately changing the subject, he began to ask her about her home, the farm, her family; anything to steer their thoughts away from the squadron at this moment facing flak as they crossed the enemy coast. But not once during the hours they sat together through the long night did he mention his own life or family.

As a pale, watery dawn stretched itself across the flat fields, they went back to the control tower to await the returning aircraft.

‘I’ll be on the roof, Kate,’ he told her, ‘but do you mind taking one of the buses out to meet the crews? One of the other drivers has gone off sick.’

‘Of course,’ she agreed.

She had often driven the airmen out to their aircraft, but this was the first time she had met their return. When the first plane landed and she drove the bus as near as she could to pick up the crew she was shocked by the sight of them. The laughing, joking boys who had departed now returned exhausted, dirty and silent. Their faces were streaked with grime, their eyes wide with tiredness and they climbed unsteadily into the bus as if every bone in their bodies ached to lie down and rest. Now there was no laughter, no joking, no flirting. They didn’t speak to her, didn’t even look at her.

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