The Returning Tide Page 13
No one cared that the main meal was roasted rabbit instead of goose. It was a Christmas to remember and the only things I longed for were Eddie, you and Father. Eddie called and that made me fall in love with him all over again. Do let yourself fall in love. It makes the world worth fighting for and I know you – once you give your heart it will be forever.
Last night I saw in 1944 at the Ferryboat Inn. Well in truth, we all stood on Bar Beach singing Auld Lange Syne badly, but it was memorable for the stars and the utter lack of light. I could hear and feel the bodies around me but for that short moment I stood in the darkness and somehow felt the world.
Do tell me you will have some leave soon. Maybe if you haven’t enough time to come to Cornwall we could try and meet in London. Write to me! What was your Christmas and New Year like? Who did you kiss to see the New Year in?
Xxxx
P.S. Thank you for the book of poems … are you trying to ‘improve’ me? Well, it’s working. I’m reading a poem a day but it’s the same one, Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s ‘How do I love thee?’ I think I have it memorised. It sums up exactly what I feel for Eddie.
P.P.S. Remind me when I see you to tell you about the handsome Dutchman who tried to woo Mother. She came to the Ferryboat with me one night and this charming man took a fancy to her. I don’t believe she would have escaped except for his gammy leg!
Xxxx
Leicester Square, London
21 January 1944
We’d tumbled out of the 400 Club and onto the street. I knew my breath was coming out in little puffs even if I couldn’t see it in the blackout. The ground was slippery underneath my shoes. The emerald silk of the dress I’d been given by Aunt Margaret offered little protection against the bitter wind. I pulled my wrap tighter and Angus threw his arm around me.
‘Sure you’ve had enough dancing? It was a lot warmer inside.’ His boyish grin spread across his face, revealing the gap between his two front teeth.
I smiled. ‘Absolutely, but don’t let me stop you from heading back in. I have to be on duty tomorrow so some sleep tonight is essential.’
He drew closer to me in the darkness. ‘Always the serious one.’
‘Absolutely. You drew the short straw tonight, finding this twin in London.’
He laughed. ‘Nonsense. Although, truth be told, I’ve never been able to tell you two apart, even when you are side by side. But then, you both like to confuse me.’
‘So true. You still don’t know which one of us kissed you all those years ago.’
‘Well, you could kiss me now and I’d know.’ He tilted his head with a slow smile spreading across his face.
I laughed and gently pushed him in the direction of the nightclub door. ‘Go and enjoy yourself. You’ve earned it, and thanks for a lovely evening.’
‘You don’t mind?’
‘I mind standing here when you could be in there sweet-talking another girl.’
He studied me in the moonlight then kissed my cheek. ‘I know it was you.’ He dashed in the door before I could deny it, and I thought back to those sun-drenched holidays at Windward.
Laughing I picked my way along the street, hoping that I’d find a bus or taxi. I hummed a little of ‘Moonlight Serenade’ as I went. Not that I was afraid, more to warn people that I was there. It was silly, as I was sure my footsteps were loud enough.
I’d reached Piccadilly when the air raid siren sounded, sending adrenaline through me. Looking around, I fought the urge to run. People came from all directions, moving swiftly as the noise of chatter increased. I joined the crowds heading into the underground station. Everyone was good-natured about it considering the hour, until a drunken man pushed into me as we walked down and called me a tart. My skin crawled as his beery breath filled the space between us. I kept my head lowered and continued moving, but he followed me, getting closer all the time. I looked around, seeking an escape route, but there were just too many people to move on the stairs.
‘Leave the lady alone,’ one man shouted. But he was too far away to actually help. All my muscles tensed – I wanted to flee, but the weight of people pressed me closer to the drunk.
‘Mind your own business,’ he slurred. ‘And she’s no lady.’ He reached out for me and I leaned away as far as I could. I could see the platform down in front of me filled with more people. I didn’t know what he was going to do. A scream began to rise in my throat as his hand neared the top of my strapless dress.
Suddenly there was a Yank in uniform removing the drunk’s hand from my arm. ‘Leave the lady alone,’ he said quietly.
‘Bloody Yanks. Think you own the bloody world, don’t you?’
‘Mind your language. There are women and children all around you.’ The crowd kept moving us forward onto the platform but sadly not away from the problem. I kept staring down, hoping that by ignoring the whole situation it would just go away.
‘No Yank is going to tell me anything.’
‘Fair enough.’ The Yank’s voice was very quiet. I could barely hear it over my pounding heart but it was clear that the drunkard had, and he took a step back.
‘Bloody coming over here and taking our women.’
‘Enough.’ The Yank’s voice was lower still – and it was then that I realised I knew him: Bobby Webster, the lieutenant who had asked me to dinner in the Savoy in December. Right now his blue eyes were not smiling with mischief but icy and focused. He took my elbow and manoeuvred me through the slow-moving crowd to the far end of the platform while a few other people thankfully distracted the drunk.
Taking off his overcoat, the lieutenant placed it on my shoulders. I hadn’t noticed I was shaking. Shock had set in. Sinking onto the platform floor in a small open space among the families trying to soothe children, I was grateful for the warmth and for his silence. He sat down beside me, but not too close, while the noise of the people around me drowned out my racing heart. Throughout the war I had heard of these incidents but not once had I experienced such unpleasantness or raw hatred.
A child started crying not too far away. I listened to its mother croon softly and let her gentle voice work its magic on me too. I turned to the lieutenant. ‘Thank you.’
‘I won’t say it was a pleasure but I’m happy to have been here to help.’
We sat in silence as the floor shook. I wondered how close a miss we’d had, and hoped that no one had been killed or injured.
‘Emerald green suits you.’
I looked up at him, liking his slightly lopsided grin.
‘Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome. I hope you had a good evening before this.’
I smiled. ‘Yes, I did. You?’
‘Acceptable.’
That wasn’t what I’d been expecting. Acceptable. Normally when you asked the Americans anything, it was all superlatives. Intriguing.
Finally, after what seemed like a long time, the rising and holding tone of the ‘all clear’ signal sounded and people around us began to shift.
‘May I escort you home?’ he asked.
I scanned the platform, looking for the drunkard. ‘Yes, thank you.’
Sirens filled the air as we walked along the darkness of Piccadilly. I tried to give him his coat back but he wouldn’t let me. ‘You’ll catch a cold,’ he said.
‘What about you?’
‘Winters are a lot colder in Massachusetts.’
‘Is that where you are from?’ I tried to make out his face in the distant light from a burning building.
‘Yes, south of Boston on the coast.’
‘Sounds lovely.’
‘It is.’
I slipped and he steadied me. He continued to hold my arm as we went past Hyde Park along Kensington Gore. ‘Where are you from?’
I smiled. ‘Good question.’ A taxi went past but it was occupied. ‘A few places.’
‘How so? Military family?’
‘Not then.’ I shook my head, thinking of Father. He’d taken to the service well and I th
ink enjoyed the company of men, which he didn’t have when he was with the family. Maybe it was refreshing.
‘But now?’
‘Yes. But aren’t most people these days?’
‘True,’ he said. ‘So. Are you going to enlighten me?’
‘I was born in Cornwall, but that’s not where we lived. My parents were on holiday at my grandmother’s at the time.’ I smiled, remembering Windward.
‘Where did you grow up?’
‘All over. Father is a consulting surgeon so we moved a bit until we settled in London before the war.’
‘Never Cornwall again?’
‘No, but we stayed there every summer without fail.’
‘Beautiful place, but tiny roads.’
‘You’ve been?’
He nodded but didn’t say more. Was he one of the Yanks tearing up and down the lanes near Falmouth? But then there were Americans everywhere. Earlier today my walk down Cadogan Gardens had been accompanied by wolf whistles. It was something I’d become used to with the growing number of them on the south coast. We needed them for the war but we didn’t have to like them.
The lieutenant and I dodged a group of people making their way in the chaos. With all this darkness I kept thinking there should be silence, but the night was full of noise.
‘A good night, love?’ asked a man walking in the opposite direction.
I laughed. Hardly the night out I’d expected.
‘Why were you out alone, or did you lose your date in the raid chaos?’
I turned to him. ‘I left him dancing. I have to be on duty today and need to catch an early train back.’ I chuckled. ‘So much for getting some sleep.’
‘He let you leave without him?’
‘He’s a dear friend.’ I thought of Angus and the stolen kiss.
‘So you are free?’
‘I guess so.’ I smiled. ‘As free as anyone is in this crazy world when we don’t know who will be alive tomorrow.’
‘Carpe diem.’
I squinted in the darkness to try and read his expression but couldn’t. ‘It all depends on how you want to seize it.’ I paused. ‘I mean, everyone wants something different.’
‘Do they?’
‘I think they do.’ A person bumped into me. I’d been so focused on the lieutenant and our conversation that I wasn’t paying attention to what was around me.
‘Don’t we all want happiness?’ he asked.
‘Fair point, but what makes people happy is unique.’ As we walked, the moon appeared from behind a cloud, casting a silvery light over the street.
‘I would argue that the search for love is universal.’
‘True, but what people think love is is very different.’
He laughed. ‘I think we may have to agree to disagree.’
‘Scared of continuing the argument?’
‘Absolutely not. I’d love nothing more, but didn’t you mention that you were heading to Kensington High Street?’
‘I did.’ As I said this, I could just make out the steeple of St Mary Abbots, which meant Aunt Margaret’s house was close. ‘Thank you for walking with me.’
‘It’s been a pleasure.’ I held out my hand and he took it, but then frowned. ‘Surely you’re not staying here?’
‘No.’
‘Well then, I intend to see you home.’
‘There’s no need.’
‘There’s every need. My mother would never forgive me if I didn’t walk a lady to her door.’
‘Then it’s just up the hill a bit.’ I realised that he was still holding my hand in his. I wasn’t quite sure how to pull it away without appearing rude. And part of me was enjoying the warmth through my glove. There was something different about this Yank. He was quiet for one, he wasn’t chewing gum and unlike the others did not seem prone to forced joviality. If all Americans were like this polite lieutenant then having so many of them around might not be so difficult.
As we reached Aunt Margaret’s house, he asked: ‘How much time do you have before your train?’
‘Not much. Just time to change our of my finery and back into uniform.’
‘Well, a pleasure to meet you again, Adele.’
‘And you too, Lieutenant.’
‘Bobby, please.’
‘Bobby.’
‘Until we meet again.’ He gave my hand a squeeze and released me to walk up the steps. I turned when I’d opened the door and for a moment I thought I could still see him standing on the pavement. I waved into the darkness, unsure if he was really there, but I was thankful that I’d met the polite American lieutenant again.
Thirteen
Weymouth, Dorset
5 February 1944
We were sitting on the wall that ran alongside the promenade, enjoying some unexpected sunshine. The bright, spring-like day had made me almost feel lethargic, but then a loud rumble of tyres stirred me back to wakefulness.
A convoy of jeeps filled with American GIs came driving past. I frowned. More of them. Pat waved energetically and they called out to her. She leaned over to me. ‘The dances will be crowded out with men. You’ll have to come more often now. It’s your duty to keep morale up.’
I smiled. ‘Their morale looks just fine to me.’
‘Give them a few days on a wet field and they’ll need your bright smile to tell them not all is bad in England.’
I laughed and looked back at the convoy. The Americans didn’t need me. More vehicles came in sight as the convoy slowed to a halt – and suddenly, sitting in one of the jeeps right in front of me was Lieutenant Bobby Webster. Our eyes met, and then he smiled and tipped his cap.
‘Now there’s a handsome man.’ Pat nudged me.
‘Good to see you Adele,’ he called out.
‘The same, Lieutenant,’ I said, just as the jeep started moving forward again, carrying him away.
‘You know him?’ Pat stared open-mouthed at me.
‘We’ve met.’
‘You didn’t say. And you haven’t fallen immediately in love?’ She refused to look back at the rest of the convoy, despite their calls of ‘Hello, ladies’, instead staring hard at me.
‘I said we’d met, not had an affair.’
‘You’re a dark horse.’ She laughed. ‘He was certainly pleased to see you.’
I flushed. ‘Not at all. And now that they’ve passed, we’d best head back to Attack.’
‘Spoilsport. I want to know how and where you met him.’
‘All I’ll say is that it was London.’
‘He wasn’t the bloke who helped you in the shelter, was he?’
I grinned and began a brisk march towards the train station while Pat trailed in my wake, continually glancing over her shoulder at the troops. I turned to tell her to keep up – and accidentally walked straight into Commander Rowse. ‘Sorry, sir.’
He smiled. ‘Quite the sight.’ He tilted his head towards the troops and I found myself thinking how lucky his wife was. I knew through the grapevine that he was married and didn’t so much as look at another woman in the wrong way. That was what I wanted from a man, but only after the war. In the last week, I’d heard that the lovely Johnny I’d danced with in January had ‘caught it’, in the words of his friends. Another life snuffed out. There was no chance I would risk falling in love.
HMS Attack, Portland, Dorset
1 February 1944
Darling,
How I missed you last night. You would have seen the funny side but I couldn’t at the time. We arrived at the Embassy Club and the first person we see is Commander Tommy Pinkerton-Smith who I had a merry time with while I drove him for three months. And I don’t regret a moment of it but I was with Eddie and I could see mischief in Tommy’s eyes as he glanced our way.
My hand shook sensing Amelia’s embarrassment and fear. I stuffed the pillow on my bunk against the wall to be more comfortable.
I nearly died and hoped the floor would open when he made a beeline for us. He could drop me straight into it. It�
��s not that Eddie thought I hadn’t had other lovers, but it would have been most unpleasant to be faced with one. But Tommy, the dirty stop-out, waltzed up to us and immediately kissed me. I held my breath. It could go badly wrong.
However I had worried needlessly as he held out his hand to Eddie. ‘I hear you are the luckiest man in Bomber Command, Lieutenant.’ He smiled at me. ‘Because Amelia has agreed to be your wife.’ I nearly fell to the floor at this point. They shook hands vigorously. It turns out that Eddie had been a friend of Tommy’s brother at school. Tommy winked at me as he went to the bar. After that point I knew it would all be fine. Eddie swept me into his arms as the band began to play, and time flew but I didn’t want it to end. We walked through Hyde Park back to Aunt Margaret’s to change as dawn was breaking. Everything sparkled with the dew and I just wanted to hold onto the moment forever.
Wife? She was engaged and she hadn’t told me. The letter fell from my hand. I don’t know how long I sat there, looking at the paper on the floor, before I bent down and picked it up again.
‘Engaged’ I hear you say? I’m not, or I wasn’t when Tommy said that. I pulled him aside later. He said we’d both looked so happy, that had to have been the reason. When he returned me to the table he said, ‘If you don’t propose to this woman here and now, I will.’
Eddie replied, ‘Funny you should say that.’ Then he pulled a box out of his pocket. I nearly swooned as he fell to one knee and asked me to be his wife. Earlier he had held me in his arms while we danced and whispered those magic words properly for the first time. The delicate diamond ring says it all. I’m watching it sparkle in the daylight right now as the train makes its way to Cornwall. I will put the ring away once I get there because we both want to tell the family together. He will speak to Father first before we break the news to the mothers. I am over the moon.