Our Last Goodbye: An absolutely gripping and emotional World War 2 historical novel

by Shirley Dickson

  She told Ramona, ‘I’ve heard that when the noise stops, that’s when folk have to worry. Sometimes it glides for a bit or it can simply drop with its explosive load.’

  ‘Eee, those poor Londoners. As if they haven’t had enough to put up with.’

  Ramona gave May’s grocery bag a cursory glance. ‘I hope you’re not overdoing it. You shouldn’t be carrying heavy loads.’

  For the second time that morning, May insisted she was perfectly fine.

  This war had changed people and some, like Ramona, for the better. Folk were more tolerant of each other and ‘a trouble shared was a trouble halved’ was, for most, the motto of the day.

  Ramona folded the newspaper. ‘I’d like a word.’ An uncertain look crossed her face. ‘It’s about Derek. I thought it best if we have a talk while he’s at school.’

  The atmosphere tensed, and May felt the hairs on the back of her neck bristle.

  She suspected this talk was not good news.

  It wasn’t.

  ‘It isn’t just me who feels this way,’ Ramona said as they sat either side of the kitchen table a hot cup of tea in their hands, ‘Mr Newman thinks the same too. We’ve discussed the matter at great length.’ Her gaze dropped to the table. ‘As we’ve said you can stop with us after this bairn you’re carrying is born. But it stands to reason at some point you’ll meet another fella and you’ll have another bairn with—’

  ‘Aunt Ramona. What is this about?’

  Ramona looked her boldly in the eye.

  ‘Derek. Me and Mr Newman want to adopt him.’

  August 1944

  Richard had been on the ward for five weeks now and the specialist’s morning round was part of his day.

  Fully dressed, he sat by his bedside on a chair.

  ‘The hospital can do no more for now,’ Mr Percy told him in his hearty manner. ‘You’re to be discharged to a convalescent home where you will continue to gain strength.’

  After the latest eye operation, he was still sightless and had reconciled himself to the fact that he was going to stay blind. Mr Percy planned to do another operation but he wanted Richard to recuperate for a time first.

  The skin grafts on his chest had healed and now his plaster cast had been cut off, he could walk with the aid of a stick.

  Later, when the big man and his team had left the ward, the nurse with the mature voice told him, ‘Your bed will hardly get the chance to get cold before somebody else is in it.’

  Though it was said in jest, he understood they were desperate for beds. But this place had become his home, the only home he could remember and the idea of leaving was… bloody alarming.

  ‘Where will I be going?’

  ‘Sister hasn’t divulged that piece of information yet. But wherever it is, keep out of trouble.’

  ‘Chance would be a fine thing, Nurse.’

  She laughed. ‘He’s got opinions, this chap, and once he’s made up his mind there’s no changing it.’

  The nurse had turned her head away and seemed to be talking to someone else. ‘Hold the fort while I go and ask Sister if she’s finished with his notes.’

  As she walked away, he became conscious that someone was standing at his side.

  ‘Tell me,’ he said, ‘how do I look? They’ve dressed me but nobody told me what I’m wearing…’

  ‘It’s a very nice navy suit with baggy trousers.’

  He cocked his head and listened. Her voice was young and keen but slightly nervous.

  ‘I haven’t heard your voice before. Are you new?’

  ‘I’ve just started training.’

  ‘What made you want to become a nurse?’

  She smelt of fresh fragrant soap.

  ‘I’ve always dreamed of becoming a nurse but I never thought I’d be good enough.’

  An excited tingle went up his spine. He’d heard those words before – and by gosh, he knew who’d spoken them. Her beautiful face swam up from his subconscious.

  Richard beamed. He knew exactly where he’d go

  Home, to see May.

  32

  Breakfast that Thursday morning was bread and homemade jam and a cup of tea in the kitchen-come-living room. Then came the best part of May’s day, when she walked Derek down to Chichester roundabout and over the busy main road to his school in Laygate Lane.

  When she arrived back home, Ramona was waiting for her at the kitchen table by the window, two cups of tea in front of her.

  ‘I’m off to help in the WVS canteen,’ Ramona told May as she joined her at the table.

  Servicemen who came into the area didn’t have many places to go during the times they were off duty. The Women’s Voluntary Service had requisitioned a local hall where men could congregate to have tea and food at minimal prices and join in with a game of cards or dominoes.

  ‘My stint is half ten till three.’ Ramona slurped her tea. ‘I was wondering, would you mind making a pan of vegetable soup for dinner as there’s nowt much else in the pantry? Mr Newman’s away at the docks to try and get wood. He’ll be starved when he gets back.’

  ‘Of course. And it’ll do for Derek’s tea.’

  ‘Why don’t you put your feet up this afternoon? You make us nervous the way you’re always gaddin’ about. When I carried my Danny…’ she began.

  May only half listened to the drawn-out tale of when Ramona’s waters broke. Poor woman, her face lit up every time she described the memory of when she first glimpsed her newborn son.

  A life wasted. Like those of thousands of other young men who’d died. And her beloved Richard was one of them.

  With him gone, despite what Mrs Newman thought, there’d never be another man in May’s life. Love like theirs came only once in a lifetime.

  She spared a moment to think of the Bentleys, who’d lost their sons. Life must be unbearable for them.

  May had written and told them where she was now living and, as promised, Mrs Bentley kept regularly in touch.

  As for Ramona, May held no malice towards the woman. Grief-stricken, she’d reached out for a bit of happiness and thought Derek could replace her son. The day she’d asked if she could adopt him, May had told her straight:

  ‘Over my dead body. It’s time you knew. Derek is my son and in his short life he’s been hawked from one home to another. But not any more. From now on he’s stopping with me.’

  May expected an angry outburst and to end up being shown the door. But neither happened. On the contrary, once Ramona had got over the shock of May’s disclosure, she reverted back to being this new and tolerant person whom May had come to admire.

  She told May, ‘Eee, I don’t blame you, hinny, I would say the same if somebody had suggested taking my Danny away from me. The truth is, lass, I’m terrified you’ll up and leave with Derek. Then we’ll have no one.’

  May’s heart ached for the woman. ‘Aunt Ramona, whatever happens in the future, Derek and me and this baby will always need you and Mr Newman. You’re part of our family.’

  Ramona’s round happy face smiled.

  Finishing her tea, Ramona stood and started for the door.

  ‘Oh, by the way,’ she turned and told May, ‘a letter came for yi’ this mornin’. I propped it by the tea caddy.’

  With that she was gone.

  May wandered over to the caddy on the bench. Picking up the letter, she recognised the neat handwriting as Mrs Bentley’s.

  May slit open the envelope.

  Dearest May,

  I wish I could tell you this in person. Sit down dear, as you’re in for the biggest shock.

  May didn’t want any more shocks. Nervous for a split second, she felt like throwing the letter in the fire. But curiosity got the better of her.

  I’m writing this from Moorfields Hospital in London. We received notice from the hospital.

  May, it’s Richard. He is alive!

  As her legs buckled May nearly fell down, but gripped the table. Her mind reeled as she read the words again. This time she d
id sit down.

  Yes. She’d read the words correctly. The letter did say Richard was alive.

  The rush of adrenalin she experienced made her giddy.

  She read on,

  I find it difficult to describe the wonder Terence and I feel at this miracle and so I won’t try and will keep to practicalities for now.

  Immediately we heard, Terence went to the phone box and phoned the hospital. He was told Richard was to be discharged into a convalescent home as the hospital is desperate for beds. The reason we hadn’t heard anything of him till now was because Richard had lost his memory but has regained it now. And he can’t wait another minute to come home.

  The hospital specialist agreed that we could collect him. So here we are at the hospital where we are staying overnight in a relatives’ room. We’re hoping to return home with Richard tomorrow but that will depend on how packed the trains are with servicemen. Though Richard still needs to recuperate, he is strong enough to travel but not on his own.

  If we are successful, I think it wise, because of Richard’s weakened condition, that he rests after such a journey. Perhaps you could leave seeing him till Thursday. You have our address.

  May quickly calculated. Today was now Thursday and her heart raced… She read on,

  May, another shock. Richard is blind. I don’t know all the ins and outs of how Richard was blinded and lost his memory but for now, all that matters is that our son is alive.

  I must go, dear. I will pop this letter in the hospital post box as I leave. I thought it right you should know so you can prepare yourself.

  Oh, May, Terence and I have been given a second chance. Our boy is coming home.

  With very best wishes.

  Sarah Xx

  May stared into space in a stunned daze. From downstairs, she heard the front door slam as Ramona left the house.

  * * *

  May found herself tidying up in the living room. The nervous energy she felt wouldn’t allow her to stay still. She looked at herself in the mirror above the mantlepiece. How could she prepare herself? The news wouldn’t sink in.

  Richard. Alive. And blind.

  My poor darling, was her first thought, closely followed by, thank God he won’t see my disfigured face. Then she felt bad that the thought had popped so quickly in her head as it hadn’t mattered unduly before. May could cope with stares of pity from strangers, and her loved ones took her for who she was. But she couldn’t have borne it if instead of seeing love in Richard’s eyes, she’d seen pity.

  But what was she saying? Her love for Richard transcended her needs. He was alive and surely that was all that mattered.

  She checked her wristwatch. Ten o’clock. At the thought of seeing him again she felt a kind of schoolgirl nervousness. Then her spirits dipped. The Bentleys’ mightn’t be able to get a train until today. But the longing to see Richard was so strong that May decided to go to his parents’ house anyway.

  She moved to the kitchen and, picking up the letter from the table by the window, she checked the Bentleys’ address.

  A car door slammed outside in the street below and May automatically looked through the window. A taxi cab stood at the kerb and a man was climbing out of the passenger side.

  May recognised the person as Mr Bentley.

  * * *

  Mr Bentley helped someone out of the back of the taxi cab. When the taxi drove off, a man with a white walking stick in his hand took Mr Bentley’s arm.

  Her nerves jittery and shaky, May undid the bow of her pinny and took it off, then adjusted her hair over the sides of her face.

  A bell tinkled. Voices came from the parlour below.

  In a dream-like state, May descended the stairs and moved through to the parlour.

  A tall man, rake thin, wearing a navy suit that hung from him, tapped a white stick in front of him as he limped towards Mr Newman’s chair.

  He turned.

  May’s knees went weak and she almost collapsed.

  ‘It’s May,’ Mr Bentley told him.

  He gave a broad smile. ‘Hello, my darling.’

  May clasped her hand on her heart.

  Her voice was barely a whisper, ‘Richard, how can it be you?’

  His eyes didn’t focus but stared past her towards the staircase door.

  ‘May, you’ve had a shock… the baby…’

  As if he might be a mirage, she came over and touched him. ‘I can’t believe you are real. You were reported dead.’

  ‘I’m real.’ He let go of his stick and it clattered to the floor as he took her into his arms and kissed her.

  ‘Ahem! I’ll leave you two alone… I’ll be outside if you want me.’ Mr Bentley opened the parlour door and left.

  After his dad closed the door, Richard pulled away and told her, ‘We got home late last night and I was desperate to see you. I hardly slept a wink and insisted first thing this morning that Pa hire a taxi.’

  May laughed and cried all at once. ‘If this a dream, Richard, then I never want to wake up.’

  Hungrily, his lips pressed against hers once more.

  As they kissed, his eyes closed, she searched his face. She still couldn’t believe he was here. He was gaunt, his hair in places turned grey. As they pulled apart, he rested her head against his shoulder and, hugging her tight, stroked her hair.

  ‘Tell me – what happened?’

  He hesitated in his way, forming words in his mind before he spoke.

  The reality sank in, then. Richard had returned.

  * * *

  ‘I was sent to Normandy.’

  ‘I knew it.’

  ‘It was hell on earth. But it was when I moved from the beaches that I was caught up in a shell blast. I lost my memory and was blinded.’

  ‘My God. But what about your leg? You were limping.’

  ‘All fixed.’

  She raised her head but gently he laid it back on his chest. ‘Sweetheart, let me tell you how it happened.’

  His heart thudded in her ears.

  ‘It wasn’t me they found dead but a good friend, a medic called Charlie Oakley. He got shot. When I found him, he was in shock.’

  ‘Poor man.’

  ‘One of the first things I must do now I’m home is to get in touch with his wife. They’d just got married.’ His voice was heavy with sorrow. ‘She deserves to hear the full story.’

  ‘Why was Charlie mistaken for you?’

  ‘I covered him with my battledress and I can only assume whoever found him discovered your picture and a couple of letters in the breast pocket.’

  She stood up and looked into his sightless eyes. ‘Someone posted the letter you wrote, that’s how I found out you’d… died.’

  ‘Christ. That must have been terrible for you.’

  He found her cheek and caressed it with the back of his hand. Too late, she remembered the scar. She took his wandering hand and held it in hers.

  ‘But what about Charlie’s identification?’

  ‘He told me he took his dog tags off when he was hot and opened his shirt because they dangled in the way when he tended the wounded. I suspect that’s what happened. The raid was during the night. We dressed in a hurry and Charlie must have forgotten to put them on again.’ Richard shook his head in distress.

  May digested what she’d heard. ‘Where were you found?’

  ‘My guess is a mile or two away. Before your sharp mind thinks to ask why I wasn’t wearing dog tags either: a Frenchman, Monsieur Dubois, who gave me shelter at his farm, burned my uniform and all identification in case the Germans discovered me.’

  He smiled. ‘One day in the future we’ll return to thank him and his son who found me.’

  May marvelled at the thought that they had a future together again.

  She thought of Charlie Oakley and his wife. What the poor woman would be going through was unthinkable. The emotions of the day caught up with her, and tears slid down May’s cheeks.

  She sniffed. ‘And you? What happened aft
er that?’

  ‘May, it’s been a long day so far. You’ve heard all the important bits. Can we finish this later?’

  In fact, May thought, she didn’t want to hear any more. All that mattered was that Richard was here.

  He looked tired and drawn. She snuggled up to him, savouring his unique masculine smell.

  ‘Besides, we have a wedding to plan,’ he told her with a grin. ‘And I want to know all about this baby of ours you’re carrying.’

  She tensed. ‘There is one more thing.’

  ‘I think I know. Ma told me about your accident on the train coming home.’

  May didn’t know whether to be pleased or angry at his mother’s interference.

  ‘She also told me about the injury and how it’s affected you.’

  He held her at arm’s length. Automatically, she flounced her hair over her scar.

  Gently, Richard wiped away the tears on her cheeks.

  Bemused at this action, her brow wrinkled into a little frown. ‘I don’t understand…’ Her heart thumped in her chest.

  ‘I’ve got something to tell you.’ He paused in that way she loved as he formed the words. ‘I’ve had two operations on my eyes… neither appeared to work but then I woke one morning to blurry sight in my left eye. May, I can see short distances. The specialist has high hopes for that eye.’

  He pushed back strands of hair and traced her scar with his fingertips. His expression softened to one of love and tenderness. ‘All I can see, May, is beautiful you.’ He kissed her scar. ‘Don’t you dare hide that lovely face. To me you’ll always be gorgeous… even when we’re old and grey.’ He patted her bump. ‘If the baby is a girl and half as pretty as her mother, I’ll be a proud man.’

  May gave a relieved sigh. She’d never felt so loved and cherished.

  ‘I don’t know about that, Richard. Wait till you meet your stepson. He’s got his heart set on a boy.’