by Daisy Styles
‘May I have a word with you?’
Rosa looked at her with an astounded expression on her face.
‘What about?’ she asked rudely.
Julia went for the direct approach. ‘Your brother.’
Rosa’s face clouded and she covered her mouth as if smothering a cry of fear.
‘Should we go inside?’ Julia said quickly.
Rosa scrambled to her feet and followed Julia into the sitting room, where they both stood like adversaries facing each other across a wide space.
‘I’ve been putting out feelers, for Gabriel,’ Julia started.
‘You?’ cried Rosa.
‘And something’s come up,’ Julia blurted out.
‘What?’ Rosa cried. ‘What’s come up?’ she demanded.
And with that Julia filled in Rosa on all that her brother had told her, trying to be as accurate as possible with the details he’d given her. As she spoke, Rosa’s face contracted with an expression that was a mixture of ecstasy and heart-breaking relief; she seemed to fold over with the weight of the news, and Julia had to rush forwards to stop her collapsing on her knees on the hard floor.
‘Gabriel,’ Rosa sobbed. ‘My Gabriel,’ she cried, as she wept and shuddered uncontrollably.
At the sound of the relief in her voice, tears streamed down Julia’s face too, as she continued to hold Rosa tightly for fear of her falling.
‘I can’t believe it,’ Rosa managed to say, before a look of panic crossed her face. ‘But how can we be sure it’s true?’ she cried.
‘Everything I’ve told you is true, as far as I know,’ Julia answered solemnly. ‘I trust my source implicitly.’
Guiding Rosa to the old battered leatherette sofa, Julia sat her down by the wood-burner, which she stoked before throwing on more logs.
‘I’ll make some tea,’ she said, but Rosa grabbed her hand.
‘No, sit with me, don’t go,’ she implored, her immense dark eyes wide with tears and wonder. ‘Tell me more, please. Stay with me.’
Julia smiled as she sat down beside Rosa, who like a desperate child held her hand and squeezed it hard.
‘Why would you do this for me?’ she whispered.
‘Because …’ Julia’s voice trailed away.
How could she explain her guilt about what she’d done when Rosa was in London? No matter how many times she told herself it was right, and it was right, of that Julia had no doubt, Rosa’s stricken hopeless face on her return from London had never ceased to haunt Julia.
‘I felt I had to try to help after what I did,’ was all she said.
Rosa gazed raptly into her face. ‘Thank you. And he’s alive, alive,’ she said as if she were in a dream.
Now it was Julia’s turn to squeeze her hand. ‘Rosa, we must be cautious: Gabriel’s still far from safe –’
‘But he’s got a false identity and false papers!’ euphoric Rosa cried. ‘And we know he made it on to a train to Belgium – that’s enough to give me hope,’ she beamed. ‘And he’s alive!’ Rosa repeated rapturously. ‘ALIVE!’
Her radiant face, alight with renewed hope, was wreathed in smiles.
‘You’ve given me back my brother,’ she said, as she buried her face against Julia’s shoulder and wept all over again.
It was at this point that Maggie and Nora walked in with a basket of freshly picked spinach and some sprouts. They both stood gaping in the doorway when they saw Rosa crushed in Julia’s arms.
‘What’s happened? Is she sick?’ Nora cried, dropping the basket and dashing forwards to assist Julia.
Rosa lifted her damp face to Nora, and, brushing back her tumbling dark hair, she smiled at them like they’d never seen her smile before.
‘Julia’s managed to get some news about my brother. It looks as if he’s alive!’
For all of Julia’s cautioning words, that night in the cowshed was one of happiness, laughter and celebration. Corned-beef fritters were fried in the kitchen, and everybody mucked in, bumping into each other, laughing, as they cooked and set the table together. Julia produced a bottle she’d brought from home on her last visit.
‘Brandy,’ she said with a grin.
‘Where did that come from?’ Nora cried.
‘Mummy insisted I took it to use for “medicinal purposes”!’ Julia laughed as she laced their strong tea with a double measure.
‘To Gabriel!’ she toasted. ‘And to the next stage of his journey. Please God, may he make it back soon – and in one piece!’
Rosa waved her mug in the air as she held Julia’s gaze. ‘To Gabriel – and to friendship!’
Nobody in the room had ever eaten corned-beef fritters accompanied by shots of brandy: the combination was heady and quite wonderful. By bedtime Nora had the hiccups, and Maggie was yawning.
‘I must get to sleep,’ Maggie said. ‘I’ve got to water the lettuce in the cold frame before I clock on tomorrow morning or Percy will have my guts for garters. And you,’ she added as she unsteadily pulled Nora to her feet, ‘have got Polly to feed.’
Nora avoided looking Maggie in the eye; she couldn’t believe her luck that Maggie still thought the pig in the sty was Polly. Neither could she believe that Percy had kept her secret: though he often shot her a dirty look, so far he’d obviously not let on to Maggie.
Julia, alone with Rosa and feeling a little light-headed, reiterated her words of caution. ‘We have to be patient.’
‘I know, Julia, but as long as Gabriel’s alive surely I’m allowed to feel hope.’
As they said goodnight, Rosa kissed Julia long and hard on both cheeks.
‘I still can’t believe you did this for me; I thought you despised me,’ she admitted.
‘Never,’ Julia retorted. ‘Though I have to admit I was pretty scared of you – you have a hell of a temper, you know.’
‘Mi dispiace, cara,’ Rosa murmured in her mother tongue.
‘I know I hurt you badly, but I had no choice,’ Julia confessed.
‘All these things are in the past,’ Rosa said, as she looked into Julia’s stunning green eyes. ‘You have given me hope, something I thought I had lost forever.’
31. Catching Up
The girls were thrilled to see Kit walking into the canteen one afternoon.
‘You were sent home to rest,’ Nora teased. ‘What’re you doing back here?’
‘I’ve come to collect my wages, and to see you all,’ Kit announced, as she pulled up a chair and sat down amongst her friends.
‘We’ve missed you, cara,’ Rosa said, leaning over to give Kit a kiss on the cheek.
‘I’ve missed you,’ Julia laughed. ‘I’ve nobody to talk to in the filling shed these days.’
‘I’ll be back,’ Kit promised as she rearranged her pretty red duster coat around her even bigger bulging tummy.
Fashion-conscious Maggie eyed the coat with envy. ‘Has that nice husband of yours been treating you again?’
Kit smiled fondly. ‘He said I needed cheering up, and he was right too – the minute I put on this coat I felt a lot more cheerful – except Billy said I looked like Humpty-Dumpty!’ she giggled.
‘Oh, to be adored,’ Julia teased.
Nora in all innocence said, ‘I’m adored these days.’
Her friends couldn’t help but smile at her dreamy expression.
‘And quite rightly,’ Kit said sweetly. ‘Peter’s a lucky man to have a lovely girl like you looking after him.’
Not to be left out of the picture, Maggie giggled, ‘I’m adored too!’
Looking less dreamy, Rosa said in a rather understated way, ‘I suppose I am.’
Julia grinned as she pointed a finger at herself. ‘That leaves me the un-adored odd one out!’
‘Never mind,’ Rosa said good-naturedly. ‘We’ll take care of our lonely spinster friend.’
Kit looked incredulously from Rosa to Julia, then back again.
‘Did something happen in my absence?’ she inquired.
Not wanting to talk
about her very private news in the canteen, Rosa just winked. ‘Oh, you know, we got fed up with scowling at each other.’
‘Well, I’m glad of that,’ Kit said with obvious relief. ‘Now,’ she continued in a more businesslike manner, ‘before you all buzz off I’ve been thinking.’
‘She’s off,’ Maggie cried, as she rolled her blue eyes. ‘Kit’s been arranging things.’
‘That I have,’ Kit retorted without a hint of embarrassment. ‘About the cake: I said I’d make one for you, and I will. I’ll have eggs from the chickens, if Billy doesn’t smash the lot, and we’ve all been saving our sugar rations.’ She waved a hand around the table to include everybody present. ‘But it won’t be a fruit cake – there’s not a raisin to be had in the entire land: the Germans have nabbed the lot!’
Before Maggie could respond, Kit ran on, ‘It will be iced, white as the virgin that you are,’ she said with a cheeky wink. ‘And there’ll be a darling little bride and groom on a silver pedestal a-top!’
‘Oh, thank you,’ Maggie cried, as she overenthusiastically squeezed her friend.
‘Careful there,’ Kit warned. ‘One more hug like that and I’ll have mi waters breaking in the Phoenix canteen.’
‘You’ll be pleased to hear my bridesmaid’s dress is finished,’ Nora told Kit, as Maggie settled back in her chair and lit up a Woodbine. ‘Mrs Yates did a grand job fixing it up for me.’
‘We seamstresses,’ Rosa chipped in. ‘Worked our fingers to the bone.’
‘How’s Billy’s page-boy outfit coming along?’ Maggie asked excitedly.
‘Oh, he looks a treat, though will he never sit still when I’m trying to fit the shirt on him,’ Kit laughed. ‘You’ll have your work cut out walking along behind him, Nora,’ she warned. ‘I’ve told Billy to walk slowly and not to step on the bride’s veil. God help you, Maggie, if he breaks into a run!’
‘He’ll look so cute, done up like Little Lord Fauntleroy,’ Nora sighed sentimentally.
‘Do you know yet when the handsome groom’s due home?’ Kit asked Maggie, who shook her head.
‘He’s been granted leave for the wedding, but he doesn’t know whether he’ll arrive Friday night or in the early hours of Saturday morning.’
‘God, that’s cutting it fine,’ said Kit.
‘I know!’ Maggie cried. ‘And then he has to go back on the Sunday afternoon. Can you believe it? One night!’
‘Better than nothing at all,’ Rosa teased.
Having not seen her friends for at least a week, Kit was full of questions. ‘How are the arrangements for the wedding breakfast coming along?’
‘All organized,’ Maggie announced triumphantly. ‘Leek and potato soup,’ she chanted. ‘Roast pork, apple sauce, roast potatoes, sprouts, cabbage and carrots, all the veg from our allotment,’ she added proudly. ‘Bottled plum tart – and your wedding cake, Kit!’ Without pausing for a breath, Maggie quickly added, ‘And for tea! Salad, homegrown of course, and meat-paste sandwiches!’
‘How we’ll be expected to dance the night away at the Black Bull after that I do not know,’ Rosa teased.
The hooter going off brought their happy chatter to a close.
‘I’d best go and collect my wages,’ Kit said, hauling herself up. ‘Pop in and see me any time you fancy – the kettle’s always on the boil in my house.’
Though Nora cheerily waved Kit off, her heart was heavy, as she told Peter later when she visited him on the ward. These days, as April showers melted into warm spring sunshine, Nora and Peter preferred to spend their time outside, strolling arm in arm around the lovely grounds of Wrigg Hall, admiring the unfolding rhododendrons and bright azaleas.
‘Every time they talk about roast pork and apple sauce I thank God Polly’s safe, but as soon as that happens I feel guilty about the other one that’s not got long to live.’ Her brow creased as she continued, ‘I overheard Percy talking to Maggie. He said when the time came he’d take the pig over to Ramsbottom, where his mate has a small slaughterhouse. After he’s’ – Nora gulped: she just couldn’t bring herself to say the words ‘slit its throat’ – ‘after he’s done the business, the meat’s got to hang for a fortnight in a cool place before eating, so, like I say, the poor beast’s not got long for this life.’
‘You promised you wouldn’t get soft and sentimental when I agreed to buy the new pig,’ Peter reminded her.
‘And I haven’t,’ Nora protested. ‘I’ve not looked it in the eye once; I just dump the swill bucket in the pen and walk away. But that doesn’t stop me from feeling sorry for it.’
Peter pulled her close and stroked her wild red curls. ‘You’re a soft lass,’ he whispered in her ear.
‘Anyway,’ Nora continued as they made their way towards the rose gardens, where tender young buds were beginning to peep through the previous year’s old growth, ‘I’ve made my mind up – I’m going vegetarian!’
‘That won’t be difficult, with rationing as it is. I don’t think there’s more than a shred of meat in anything that we eat – cardboard more like, with a bit of sawdust and tripe!’
‘You can scoff, but I’m serious: no meat for me from now on, ever!’ she vowed.
Before Nora returned to the hospital to start her voluntary work, she and Peter discussed the arrangements for Maggie’s wedding day.
‘Sister’s happy for me to go out for the whole day and evening too: she thought it was a good idea in fact,’ Peter explained. ‘She mentioned I might be going home soon, so I need to start “rehabituating” myself with the outside world.’
Nora tried to smother her gasp of astonishment. ‘Going home!’
‘I can’t stay at Wrigg Hall forever!’ Peter laughed.
‘No, of course not, not when you’re so much better,’ she affirmed.
‘And getting better all the time, especially since you came into my life,’ he teased. ‘My little ray of sunshine.’
Nora’s heart was beating wildly; whilst she was of course delighted for him, the thought of Peter leaving, of not being able to see him as she did now, virtually every day, brought tears to her eyes. Trying to sound practical she asked, ‘Will your mum be able to cope? Nursing you at home? You told me she was getting on.’
‘I’ll talk to her about it when she next visits and see what she has to say,’ Peter replied. ‘But I intend to get work, Nora. I don’t want to be an invalid all my life!’ he exclaimed. ‘I can walk now, and see well with my good eye, and I don’t frighten people to death with my damaged face any more,’ he said cheerfully. ‘I want to get back to being a mechanic, working in a garage, fixing cars and trucks – a proper mucky grease monkey, that’s me, that’s when I’m happiest!’
For all her fear of Peter’s moving away, Nora couldn’t help but smile at his excitement. After all he’d been through, all he’d suffered, he still had a burning passion for life. Who was she to bar his way if he wanted to move back home and look after his mother and work in the town where he’d grown up? Holding back her tears, she smiled bravely at Peter, who had become the light of her life. Recalling how he was when she’d first seen him, rocking back and forth all day long on his hospital bed, his face covered in bandages, half blind and frightened of every shadow, Nora knew she would never hold him back; he’d come so far and if he wanted to go further, and without her, she would send him on his way with her blessing.
Rosa too was having her own set of anxieties; though she was in regular communication with Roger, she hadn’t told him her most recent dramatic news about Gabriel.
‘I feel guilty not telling him, but with his RAF connections I thought it might not be a wise move, in case he asked where the information had come from,’ she told Julia, as they walked down to the allotment to help Maggie and Nora with the endless task of weeding their precious vegetables.
Julia stopped in her tracks to respond to Rosa. ‘You’ve done the right thing,’ she assured her. ‘We must never drop Hugo in it, you know.’
‘Of course, mum’s the word
!’ Rosa asserted. Linking her arm through Julia’s, she chatted on. ‘Anyway, Roger’s got more than enough on his plate right now: he told me in a letter that Bomber Command suffered its greatest losses recently. Can you believe it? Ninety-five planes failed to return after being heavily attacked by German night-fighters.’
‘God help the poor souls,’ Julia murmured sadly. ‘We nearly lost my brother in a night raid; luckily he was picked up and survived, though it did cost him his left hand …’
‘How awful!’ Rosa gasped.
‘That was the end of Hugo’s flying days,’ Julia added sadly. ‘It vexes the life out of him, but he’s made the best of it.’
They walked on in companionable silence, which Julia broke by asking a rather unexpected question. ‘Have you ever thought of doing something for the war effort other than working in munitions?’
‘Actually, I have,’ Rosa confessed. ‘After I got out of occupied territory, I dreamt of working as an undercover operator.’
‘Really!’
‘Well, it was just a dream, but why not? I’m a good linguist, I’ve had personal experience of being a German prisoner, I detest the Nazis, and I have some first-hand experience of how undercover agents operate,’ she pointed out. Giving a philosophical shrug, Rosa added, ‘I never got further than dreaming about it – I sometimes regret I didn’t actively pursue it – but realistically I don’t even know how you would go about getting recruited for something like that. Anyway the Phoenix called and I met you lovely lot!’ she joked. ‘Now I build bombs to annihilate the Nazis, which I suppose is better than nothing!’ She turned to Julia and said with a wicked smile, ‘You’d make an excellent spy.’
‘Me?’
‘Yes, your cool, aloof, English upper-class manner.’
‘I’m not upper class!’ Julia laughed.
‘Oh, you English have such a ridiculous class system,’ Rosa mocked. ‘Anyway, to me you sound upper class: your voice, your education, your imperious looks! You’ve only to snap your fingers and people jump.’
Julia grimaced. ‘How ghastly!’ she exclaimed. ‘Do I really come across as a stuck-up toff?’
Rosa couldn’t lie, but she spoke with a grin. ‘Yes, but it fades once you get to know the real Julia.’
