Time Shall Reap (37 page)

When the MC announced a Paul Jones, Laura said, ‘Come on. This is the only way we’ll get partners.’

Hesitating for a moment, Pat followed her into the circle of girls, and they skipped round with the others until the music stopped. Laura found herself opposite a stout, florid sergeant, who swung her into the tango, and she saw that a tall blonde boy was dancing with Pat. She gave herself up to the gliding and dipping then joined the circle until the music stopped again. The tempo changed to three-four time, her partner a corporal who whirled her round energetically, so she did not see Pat again until they were back in the circle, and was relieved that she looked quite happy.

During the slow foxtrot, Laura spotted her friend with the tall blonde boy again, and wasn’t surprised when she brought him over when the Paul Jones ended. ‘He’s another Pat,’ she laughed, breathlessly. ‘Pat Sandison, this is Laura Fullerton.’

The two Pats danced together for the rest of the evening, and Laura was never left on her own either. Only one of her partners asked if he could see her back to camp, but she said she was going with her friend and he didn’t persist.

Just before the last dance began, Pat came over, holding the other Pat’s hand. ‘I hope you don’t mind, Laura, but Pat and I are going now.’

‘That’s OK. See you later.’ Laura’s brightness hid her dismay. Pat Haggarty was attracted to Pat Sandison, that was obvious, and she, herself, would have to spend her evenings on her own in future, but it was her own fault for making it possible for them to meet. She watched them leaving, then turned forlornly to go to the cloakroom.

‘I see your friend’s gone. Well, my offer still holds.’

It was the boy she had previously refused, an LAC, but she let him lead her on to the dance floor. To hell with Pat, she thought rebelliously, to hell with the two Pats, to hell with everybody. She’d come here to enjoy herself and by God she would.

The boy smiled shyly. ‘I’m Doug Phillips.’

‘Laura Fullerton.’

‘It’s my last night in this country,’ he observed. ‘We’re off to warmer climes tomorrow. Well, we’ve been issued with light clothing and the rumour is we’ll be spending Christmas in Malta, or the Med somewhere.’

‘Are you looking forward to it?’

‘Yes and no. Yes, because it’s an adventure, if you like – and no, because I’ve just met you.’

‘Don’t start having ideas about me,’ Laura said, quietly. ‘I don’t want to be involved, serious or otherwise.’

Looking quite surprised at first, Doug’s features slowly relaxed in a smile. ‘Getting over an unhappy love affair? Oh, well, it’s the luck of the draw, I suppose, but you’ll surely let me walk you back?’

‘As long as you remember to keep your hands to yourself.’

After the dance ended, they walked along the road side by side, talking companionably, and Laura felt good – it had been so long since she had allowed herself the pleasure of talking to a boy. Just before they reached the camp gates, Doug said, ‘This is it, then. Aren’t you going to wish me luck, Laura?’

‘Oh, yes. Good luck, and ... I enjoyed dancing with you.’

‘Me, too.’ He planted a light kiss on her forehead, then, without warning, his mouth found hers. Realizing why, she didn’t protest – anyway, it was rather nice.

‘Thank you, Laura,’ he murmured, as he drew away. ‘That’s something for me to remember. I’ll maybe run into you again, some day – who knows?’ Saluting, he walked off, and she went into the hut, thankful that he hadn’t wanted to keep in touch with her.

When Pat came in, a short time later, she announced joyfully, ‘It was love at first sight for Pat and me.’

Laura pulled a resigned face. ‘I thought as much.’

‘He’s being posted overseas tomorrow, but he’s going to write. He’s not part of an air crew, so there won’t be any chance of him being shot down and killed, like ...’ Pat’s eyes clouded.

Her friend’s reason for not having anything to do with boys was now explained to Laura, but it was best not to ask questions. ‘He seemed a decent sort.’

The other girl’s face brightened. ‘He is, Laura, and I’m glad you made me go to the dance tonight.’

When Laura went to Glasgow again – two weeks after Pat came back – Mrs Haggarty gave her a hug. ‘It’s good to see you, my dear, and thanks for what you’ve done for Pat. She withdrew into a shell after her fiancé was killed, two and a half years ago, but now she’s back to being the girl she used to be.’

‘Poor Pat. I gathered that a boy she’d been very fond of had been shot down, but I didn’t know they’d been engaged.’

‘I thought she’d never get over it, but life has to go on, even if you lose the man you love. I speak from experience.’

‘Yes, life has to go on.’ Laura could also vouch for that.

On her solitary afternoon outings, she found herself drawn to the warm-hearted Glaswegians, and was sorry when the time came for her to leave. Kissing her cheek at the door, Mrs Haggarty said, ‘I’ve enjoyed having you, and now that my Pat’s found another boy, I hope I’ll soon be hearing that you’ve fallen in love too.’

‘Pigs’ll fly,’ Laura joked. She was tempted to pour out her own sad experience, but even after all this time, she still hadn’t recovered enough to take any commiserations.

On the train, she couldn’t concentrate to read because of a niggle of apprehension that had started deep down inside her. Something dreadful had happened or was just about to happen. She tried to tell herself that it was imagination, but the feeling only intensified and by the time she reached Wick Station she was in a cold sweat. Running all the way to the airfield, she burst into the hut and looked for Pat, hoping that she’d been worrying needlessly, but her friend’s bed was empty.

Jenny Porter jumped to her feet when she saw who had come in. ‘Oh, thank goodness you’re back. Haggarty’s gone.’

Laura licked her dry lips and tried to control her heaving stomach. ‘Gone? Where?’

‘She went out last night and never came back.’

‘But what ...?’ Throwing her kitbag and respirator on her bed, Laura made for the door again. ‘I’m going to see the CO. There must be something you don’t know, Jenny.’

The officer’s face was grave when she admitted the girl to her quarters. ‘Ah, it’s you, Fullerton. I was going to speak to you in the morning. Pat Haggarty’s missing, and I believe you and she were good friends?’

‘I’ve just found out about it, Ma’am, but what ...’

‘We don’t know what’s happened. All I’ve been able to find out is that she received a letter yesterday, but whether it had any connection ...’

‘She’s been writing to a boy overseas.’ Laura’s voice sounded strangled. ‘Maybe he wrote to tell her he’d found somebody else. Oh God, Ma’am, that would have finished her.’

‘I assumed she was sick when she didn’t come on duty this morning, and it wasn’t until lunchtime that I discovered no one had seen her since last night. Do you have any idea where she might be?’

‘She hasn’t gone home to Glasgow, because I’ve just come from her mother’s house. It must have been something in that letter that ... can I do anything to help?’

‘See if you can find it in her locker.’

Laura was rummaging through Pat’s belongings before she even realized what she was doing, and when she found the letter under a pile of underclothes she read it with no compunction.

Dear Pat Haggarty,

I’m very sorry to have to tell you that Pat Sandison was killed when enemy planes strafed our camp yesterday. I found some letters from you amongst his things and I thought you should know. I can only say again how sorry I am, and if it’s any comfort, he was always speaking about you, and I’m sure he loved you very much.

Sincerely, Bill Davis.
PS I’m going to miss him, too.
We were good buddies.

Sinking down on her own bed, Laura stared into space, her heart filling with black anger.

‘Was it bad news?’ Jenny Porter was standing beside her.

Laura nodded miserably. ‘Her boyfriend’s been killed.’ Her feelings overpowering her, she said, viciously, ‘And the boy she was engaged to before was killed, too, so you see how bloody wrong you were about her?’

Jenny looked contrite. ‘Oh, God, I’m sorry for what I said before. I hope she’s OK, wherever she is.’

‘So do I!’ Laura rose and went back to the CO.

The woman looked up sympathetically from the letter. ‘Poor child, this must have been quite a blow to her.’

‘Her fiancé was killed about two and a half years ago.’

‘Oh, no! She must have been out of her mind at getting this, then. I’d better contact her mother to see if she’s gone home now, but I’ll have a search party sent out in the morning. I think you should go on duty as usual tomorrow, Fullerton. It will be worse for you if you brood about it.’

‘Yes, Ma’am.’ Laura returned to the hut, wishing fervently that she had been there when that letter arrived. Pat might not have taken it so badly if there had been a shoulder to cry on.

At eleven o’clock the following morning, she was called to the CO’s office, and knew, even before she went in, what she was going to hear. ‘Sit down, Fullerton.’ The officer’s voice was serious, her expression compassionate. ‘They found your friend’s body at the bottom of the gorge beside the old Castle. We’ll never know if she went with the intention of throwing herself over, or if it was an accident, and I know it won’t help, but I’m very, very sorry. Your sergeant has already identified her, so there’s no need for you to see her. In fact, it would be better if you remembered her the way you saw her last. I have already notified her mother.’

‘Oh, poor Mrs Haggarty.’ Laura’s throat constricted. ‘It’ll be a terrible shock to her – they were very close.’

‘It’s a great tragedy. It’s the people who are left behind who have the burden to bear.’ Showing how upset she was, the CO fiddled briefly with some papers on her desk, then said, ‘You are excused duty today, and you will be allowed to attend your friend’s funeral – even if Mrs Haggarty wants it to be in Glasgow.’

‘May I have permission to leave the camp, Ma’am, just for a short time? I ... I’d like to be on my own.’ Noticing the narrowing of her officer’s eyes, Laura said, hastily, ‘I’m not going to do anything stupid, I just want to have some time to think.’

When she went through the gates, she turned towards the open countryside. She had often walked this way with Pat, and the memory released the tears – welcome, welcome tears.

Old Wick Castle was grim and forbidding, the gorge was dark and deep. Laura was certain that Pat had jumped and could understand why. Even with only sadness and pity in her heart, the chasm drew her like a magnet, and Pat Haggarty had felt much more than sadness, much more than pity, at Pat Sandison’s death. She had likely been trying to come to terms with the second tragedy to strike her, and the depressing atmosphere of this fearsome place had made her take her own life.

After taking a step nearer the brink, Laura drew back in horror. It would be so easy to go over – much easier than it had been at Rubislaw Quarry. Well, she had survived the parting from the man she loved, she would survive the death of her friend, she could survive anything that fate held in store – nothing could be worse than what had befallen her already. And this had taught her a lesson. It was best to live life to the full while you could, and she would do exactly that in future. She would dance with as many boys as she could, laugh with them, flirt with them, but never, never, would she let herself fall in love.

Over the next few days, there seemed to be a damper over the whole camp, and Laura had to brace herself to accept the sympathy of the other WAAFs when she felt like shouting that she hoped they were ashamed of how they had treated Pat.

A much more harrowing experience for her came when she had to travel to Glasgow on the same train as the coffin, and it took all her will power not to break down at Inverness station, where she watched it being transferred to the Glasgow train. She had always hoped that she and Pat would return to Glasgow together some time, but not like this.

The ordeal of facing Mrs Haggarty was not as traumatic as Laura had feared. The woman held out her arms and they wept together for a few moments before she patted the girl’s cheek and steered her into the darkened house. The priest had known Pat all her life, and spoke of her naturally and without sorrow, as if a new life had opened up for her, something which had not occurred to Laura and which gave her great comfort.

Mrs Haggarty, pale and drawn, clasped her hand as they stood in the hallway when she left. ‘Thank you for coming, Laura,’ she whispered, brokenly, ‘and thank you for being such a good friend to Pat.’ Hesitating, she said, softly, ‘I’m giving up the house. My sister’s asked me to live with her in Coatbridge. She’s a widow, too, so we’ll be company for each other and she won’t let me brood. The only thing is, you won’t have anywhere to come on leave.’

‘Don’t worry about me.’ Laura’s voice had a catch in it. ‘You’ve been very kind to me and I’m glad you won’t be lonely. I’ll never forget you ... or Pat.’

‘Thank you.’ Mrs Haggarty kissed her cheek. ‘Goodbye, my dear, and may God be with you.’

Making her way towards the station, Laura wondered why Pat’s mother hadn’t asked her to write, but perhaps she was afraid that it would bring back painful memories, which was quite understandable. It was probably better this way, the girl reflected, then an icy shiver ran through her as she realized that another door had been closed to her.

1944

Arms linked and laughing hilariously, the three WAAFs made their way through Porthills back to their billet, and an old fisherman shuffling in the opposite direction could not help but smile at their gaiety, although many of the older locals resented the influx of so many young people to their area.

‘Wonder what old Mother Adams is concocting tonight?’ The tallest of the trio led the way into a small close. Betty Fry was five feet seven and well built, but neither fat nor flabby. Her straight dark hair was cropped short like a man’s, and her grey eyes were dancing.

‘I hope it’s not her fish pie.’ Louise Wilson, smallest and quietest, had an elfin face and green eyes, hence her friends’ nickname for her – ‘Lep’, short for leprechaun.