The Fleethaven Trilogy (88 page)

‘Mother’s not so well these days, Kate, since we lost Father,’ Peggy explained softly, and Kate nodded, understanding. The whole family had mourned the kind and gentle man. ‘But she keeps cheerful,’ Peggy was saying, ‘and she loves visitors.’

Indeed, it seemed to be true, for at the sight of her, Mrs Godfrey’s wrinkled face seemed to light up. ‘Why, my lovely Kate. Come in and sit down. Make a cup of tea, Peg, there’s a dear. I can’t get about now, it’s my legs. What I’d do without our Peg, I don’t know,’ and her gaze went fondly to her daughter.

The time flew by as they chatted. Mrs Godfrey wanted to know all about the family at Fleethaven Point and Kate found herself telling the two women all about the bombs, and even, though haltingly at first, about Danny’s marriage to Rosie. As she talked she was surprised to find it became easier.

‘I’ve just been up the hill – to look at the school.’

‘Really?’ Peggy could not hide the surprise in her voice.

‘I met Miss Ogden on the station a while back, handing out cups of tea to the soldiers. She was kind to me when I was there—’ Kate gave a wry laugh. ‘She was the only one who was, mind you.’

‘Ah yes, poor Miss Ogden. She took over as Principal seven or eight years ago now.’

‘What – what happened to Miss Denham?’

‘She retired. Went to live in the country with her sister who’d also been a headmistress somewhere.’

So Miss Denham was living somewhere comfortably in retirement, whilst poor Miss Ogden was dead.

Sometimes, Kate thought bitterly, Fate really got it wrong!

‘Drive the long way round, Kate,’ Philip said as he got in beside her on his return. ‘If everything’s all right, I’m in no hurry to get back. I seem to have been away a lot longer than a week.’

‘Everything’s fine. There was an op on last night and everyone got back safely. Well – more or less,’ she grinned. ‘B-Baker’s undercarriage jammed and he had to do a belly-landing. Honestly, Jeff landed that kite as if it were a glider.’

‘He’s a great pilot.’ There was a pause and then he added softly, ‘And how about you? Are
you
all right?’

‘Yes, thanks, I’m fine.’

It was already dark as she drove up the hill and out on to the Wragby road. About five miles from Suddaby, in open country, Philip said, ‘Pull in over there, Kate. Let’s take a breather.’

She drew the car to a halt on the wide grass verge. Below them the ground sloped away across fields of ripening corn, almost ready for harvesting, yet in the light from the full, bright moon in a clear sky the countryside seemed different shades of grey. With a shock, Kate realized it was almost a year since she and Danny had joined up.

‘A bomber’s moon, Kate,’ Philip murmured, interrupting her thoughts. ‘I wonder where they’re headed for tonight?’

‘Who? Us – or them?’

He gave a wry laugh. ‘Both! It’s mad, isn’t it? It’s all absolutely mad. A waste of young lives.’

‘But, sir . . .’

‘Oh, don’t get me wrong. I’m as patriotic as the next man and I know full well what we have to do. But – oh, dear Lord – just sometimes I get so sick and tired, so desperately tired, of seeing all those fine young men flying off into the sky and knowing that by the law of averages some aren’t going to come back.’

‘I know – I feel exactly the same sometimes.’

‘I thought you did,’ he said, so quietly that she almost didn’t catch his words. In the car, side by side, there was an intimacy between them that had nothing to do with a commanding officer and his driver.

Kate was emboldened to ask softly, the use of his Christian name coming naturally at this moment, ‘And how about you, Philip? How are things with your family?’

He gave a long, deep sigh. ‘So-so,’ he replied, his tone non-committal.

Kate stared at him but his face was in heavy shadow and she could not read his expression. Questions buzzed around her brain, but Philip volunteered no more and she could hardly pursue the matter.

He pulled a pipe from his pocket and began to pack it, more, it seemed, to give his hands something to do, rather than because he needed to smoke it. ‘You don’t mind, do you?’ he asked her, indicating the pipe.

‘No – no, of course not.’

‘I suppose,’ he said in staccato clauses between puffs, ‘we had – better be – getting back.’

As she started the engine and eased the car off the grass verge and down the incline, Philip said suddenly, ‘Am I imagining things, or is that aircraft?’

Kate opened her mouth to answer, but at that moment a small bomb fell into the road about two hundred yards in front of them. The whole world seemed to explode in a flash and Kate gave a cry and swerved. The car bounced across the grass verge and settled, nose-first, into a ditch. Kate groaned and thought, irrationally at such a moment, there I go again falling back into my bad ways!

‘Out the car, quick!’ Philip was out of his side and scrambling round to the driver’s side. He tugged at the door. ‘Open the door, Kate.’

‘I can’t – it’s stuck.’

‘Slide across to the other side,’ he shouted, and struggled back round the car again. He bent and reached in to grasp her hand and pull her out. She fell out of the car into his arms.

‘You’re not hurt, are you?’

‘No – no . . .’

‘Come on then, we must get away from this car. If a bomb drops on this, we’ll be toast.’

He grabbed her hand and pulled her after him, thrusting a way through the hedge and into the cornfield. They waded through the waist-high corn until they were almost in the centre of the field and well away from the car. Above them, the sound of an aircraft came steadily nearer.

‘Down, Kate, down!’ Even as he spoke, Philip pushed her to the ground and flung himself on top of her, his body shielding hers, his hands covering her head protectively.

The bomb fell a hundred yards from them, and the earth shook beneath them. Soil erupted and spattered down all around, and they could smell the burning cordite. Kate gave a shriek and put her arms round Philip’s back, burying her face into his neck. The noise of the plane was growing fainter, yet they lay there tense and waiting for the sound of more bombers.

‘I think,’ Philip murmured, ‘they’ve gone.’ They could smell the burning crater but now there was a beautiful silence, the whispering wind rippling through the corn and the pitiful cries of birds, disturbed from sleep and flying in disorientated circles above them, the only sounds. Philip shifted his weight a little, but made no effort to get up. He put his right arm under her neck and the other around her waist and bent his face towards her. ‘Oh, Kate, Kate . . .’ Then he was kissing her, gently at first and then with increasing urgency.

Her arms were about his neck and she twisted her body towards him. She felt him unbutton her jacket and suddenly his hand was warm and gentle on her breast. His fingertips, trembling slightly, caressed her nipple which hardened immediately under his touch. Her lips parted and his kiss became deeper, probing, yet tender.

‘Oh, Kate, I love you, I need you . . .’

She was returning his kisses with matching ardour, drowning in the new sensations her body was experiencing, lost to all sense and reason, awakened from innocence to the sensations of passion . . .

‘Oh, I wish we could stay here for ever,’ he murmured, cradling her head against his chest as he lay on his back looking up at the moon and stars. She was quiet, a gentle smile playing on her lips, savouring the tumult of emotions, enjoying the aftermath of an ecstasy she had never even guessed existed between a man and a woman. His fingers were stroking her hair, touching her cheek, and then he lifted his head to kiss the top of hers, nuzzling his face against her hair. ‘My dearest Kate.’ Then as her silence lengthened, there was an anxious question in his voice. ‘Kate?’

She did not speak but lifted her head, seeking his mouth. She heard him groan deep in his throat. It was the answer he sought. His arms came strongly about her, pulling her on top of him.

They made love again, slowly, savouring every moment, every touch, until desire claimed them once more.

‘I suppose we shall have to go,’ he said reluctantly, some time later. He got up and held out his hands to help her up. Standing, he pulled her close to him, searching her face, pale in the moonlight. Gently he bent down and kissed her forehead and then her mouth. Kate put her arms about his waist, hugging him to her. It had happened so suddenly, and yet so naturally; she had no regrets.

They had begun to walk across the field, their arms about each other, when they heard the sound of an approaching vehicle.

‘Come on, we’d better hurry. If they spot the car, they might stop.’

They reached the edge of the field as the RAF policeman got out of his jeep and slid down the sloping grass verge towards the staff car, nose first in the ditch.

‘It’s okay, we’re here,’ Philip called, holding aside the hedge for Kate to squeeze through.

A torch was shone in their faces and then flicked off quickly. ‘Oh, sorry, sir. Are either of you hurt?’

‘No, we’re fine. There was an air-raid. A bomb fell on the road in front of us and we landed up in the ditch and then took cover in the field. We thought it safest to get right away from the car.’

‘Of course, sir. Can I give you a lift back?’

‘Yes, please. I just want my bag out of the car . . .’

‘I’ll get it, sir.’

He held open the door of his jeep for Kate and Philip to climb in, closed the door, retrieved Philip’s bag and returned to his own vehicle. ‘If you say there’s been a bomb up ahead, sir, I’d better go another way. Is that all right, sir?’

‘Fine.’ The jeep’s engine burst into life and under cover of its noise, Philip whispered, ‘Take as long as you like.’ In the darkness, he reached for Kate’s hand and held it until they had passed through the gates of Suddaby Station.

The next morning, with a fresh staff car, Kate drew up outside the CO’s office. Before she could get out of the car to open the rear door for him, Philip came bounding out and got into the front seat of the car, slamming the door and grinning at her. For one dreadful moment she thought he was going to kiss her there and then in front of the whole station, but instead, he leaned back against the leather seat, stretched his long legs, and gave a self-satisfied sigh.

‘Drive.’

‘Sir – shouldn’t you – er – sit in the back?’

‘Drive! Into the country.’

An impish smile curved her mouth. ‘Where?’ she asked in an innocent tone. ‘To the nearest cornfield?’

‘Shameless hussy!’ But he was smiling fondly at her as he said it.

Confused now, she bent to touch the starter button. ‘Sir – you really shouldn’t look at me like that.’

‘Can’t help it,’ he said, never taking his gaze from her. ‘I don’t know when I last felt so happy.’

She gave a little gasp of surprise and turned to look back at him, but the look on his face told her that his words were genuine.

She had never seen him looking so relaxed and contented. His face looked years younger and, with the lines of worry smoothed from his forehead and a sparkle in his eyes, he was even more handsome than ever.

‘Go back to where we parked last night and, no, I don’t mean the cornfield. The top of the hill, you know where I mean?’

Kate nodded.

‘We can sit and talk there, yet I think we can see the road in both directions if anyone comes along.’

She pulled carefully on to the wide grass verge, bringing the car to a halt and pulled on the brake. As she switched off the engine, Philip reached for her hand, raised it to his lips and kissed each one of her fingers slowly and deliberately. A thrill of pleasure ran through her and she knew she was blushing.

‘Kate – I want you to know that this is not just a wartime fling. I’ve been falling in love with you for ages, oh, maybe ever since that first moment I opened my eyes and saw you bending over me in the little boat off the beach at Dunkirk. I don’t know. I wanted to see you again and all the time I was making inquiries to see if you’d joined up and then pulling strings to have you posted as my driver. Well . . .’ He shrugged his wide shoulders. ‘All I know is I had the strangest – compulsion – to see you, to be with you, even though I also had the feeling that it might be – well, dangerous.’

‘Dangerous?’

A cloud came over his new-found happiness. His eyes were filled with sadness as he said hoarsely, ‘I want to be honest with you . . . I don’t want to hurt you . . .’

‘What is it, Philip?’ she encouraged, guessing what he was trying to say.

‘I’m – married.’

‘I know,’ she said, and the look on his face was so comical that she laughed, leaned across and kissed his cheek.

‘You know?’ he said incredulously.

‘Mmm – Mavis!’

‘Oh – Mavis,’ he echoed, and a wry smile curved his mouth briefly.

‘Yes. What Mavis doesn’t know, Mavis will make it her business to find out,’ she smiled, and added, so that he would not get the wrong idea about her friend, ‘but it’s not malicious nosiness. Not with her, anyway.’

‘No, I know that.’ He sighed. ‘I’m glad you do know. I spent half last night reliving . . .’ he looked at her and his eyes darkened with desire at the mere memory, ‘the cornfield – and the rest of the night feeling a real heel because it

had happened.’

‘Well, there’s no need to feel a heel. I’m a big girl. I knew you were married but it doesn’t take a genius to see you’re not exactly happy, or presumably your wife – and children if you have any – would be here with you, living in the CO’s house.’

‘You – don’t know it all then? You don’t know about my – daughter?’

‘No, I don’t know anything other than that you are married.’

He looked down at her hand, still resting quietly in his, then he raised it again and held it against his cheek.

‘I must tell you . . .’

‘You don’t have to,’ she cut in quickly.

‘I – want to,’ he said firmly. He was thoughtful for a long moment and then he began to tell her about his life before he had known her.

‘I’m from a Forces family and so is my wife. My father was a Brigadier in the last war. Of course, he wanted me to join his old regiment and he was rather cut up when I opted for the youngest service, even though I decided to make a career in the RAF. My wife too was from a long line of serving officers and our parents were friends – still are, which makes it all the more difficult. Grace and I were thrown together and soon it became expected that we should marry. I think both of us got caught up in it and carried along without making any conscious decision for ourselves. I was – still am – very fond of Grace and never wanted to hurt her . . .’ He hesitated and then began again on a different tack. ‘We have a daughter, Lizzie. She – she was born with serious physical handicaps and the prognosis is that she won’t reach her teens.’