A Mother's Love

by Katie Flynn

  Ellie chuckled as she read. Blue was a mean, bad-tempered bull, whose irritability was made worse by his being blind in one eye. If he didn’t want to go somewhere then he quite simply didn’t go. If you couldn’t make him move by persuasion, usually a bucketful of his favourite food, you just had to hope he’d either give up or change his mind. Sneaking up on his blind side was never a good idea: his hearing had become acute and he could move quickly despite his size.

  It had been late in the autumn and the Murrays, along with a few of the villagers, had just finished piling the hay into stooks when Aidan had asked Ellie if she would mind helping him move the cows from one pasture to another. Everything had been going well until Blue, halfway to the new pasture, had changed his mind about following the cows and had instead headed straight for the feed shed. Ellie and Aidan had waved their arms in a vain attempt to redirect him, but he was having none of it, and the cows, unsettled by the commotion, had bolted back into the old field. Pausing only to secure the gate behind them, Ellie and Aidan had run down to the shed where they found Blue happily munching the hens’ corn.

  ‘We’ve got to get him out,’ Aidan had told Ellie. ‘He’ll eat the bloomin’ lot, and it’s not as if we can afford to just go out and buy a load more.’

  At the time, Ellie had no experience with the large beast, as his fearsome reputation had led the Murrays to insist she should stay away from him. ‘Me or Aidan can muck him out, get him in and all that,’ Uncle Kieran had said. ‘You just stick with the cows, our Ellie. They’re no bother to anyone.’

  Outside the shed she had asked Aidan whether it was men in particular that Blue objected to, or women as well.

  ‘Damned if I know. Why?’ he said.

  ‘The chooks prefer women. They don’t run away from me or your mam, but as soon as you or your dad stroll by …’ She had made flapping motions with her arms.

  Aidan laughed. ‘Perhaps they think you’re one of them.’

  Ellie had shot him a withering look. ‘Well, I think it’s worth a try. You never know, it might just be you and your dad he’s taken against.’ And with that, despite Aidan’s protests, she had entered the shed. It was only when she was inside that she realised how enormous the bull was compared to the cows. To make matters worse, the shed in which he stood was not overly large, and there was very little room in there for the two of them. Rather than stay in the confined space for too long she had called back to Aidan. ‘What do I do now?’

  ‘Get out before he notices you!’

  ‘Shall I grab him by the horns?’

  ‘God, no! That would really upset him—’ And then Ellie had emerged at top speed, heading for the cowshed, followed by a furious Blue.

  ‘You shouldn’t have done that, ’ Aidan had told her later, when he found her sitting on top of the muck heap, fighting for breath as she tried to control her giggles, whilst Blue grazed on some old hay.

  Ellie had grinned at him. ‘It worked, didn’t it?’

  Now, Ellie turned her attention back to the letter. She couldn’t help wondering what Aidan looked like in his flying uniform, and the image which she conjured up was not very flattering. The cap squished his hair out sideways, whilst his wispy beard hung over the collar of his jacket.

  She looked across to Arla, who was chatting to the cook behind the counter. Ellie had enjoyed her time in Aborfield. Sergeant Briggs had proved to be firm yet fair, and according to other people around the station he was one of the best the army had to offer. With him at the helm, Section B – Ellie’s section – would be the best trained recruits in the camp. Disappointingly, Arla had been placed in Section C, which was the first sign that the girls might not spend the war together. Standing at the board they had checked the lists two or three times.

  ‘Why’d they have to go and separate us?’ Arla had complained. ‘We’ve come all this way together, I don’t see why they have to go and shove a spanner in the works now.’

  Ellie’s brow had creased as she scanned the list for Section C, and she rested her forefinger on one of the names. ‘Have you seen this?’

  Arla had squinted at the list and then looked blankly back at Ellie. ‘Archie Byrnes? Well, it can’t be our Archie Byrnes. We’d have heard summat by now if it were.’

  ‘Awww, is that how you describe me to your mates? As your Archie?’

  Turning, Arla had hissed sharply, ‘No I do not! Where the hell did you spring from, anyway? And how come we ain’t seen hide nor hair of you till now?’

  Archie’s grin had widened. ‘I’m what you might call a sight for sore eyes, ladies, and the reason you ain’t seen me till now is ’cos we’ve been training on different camps. I’ve been sent over to replace one of your gels what’s goin’ home on account of not bein’ suited to the job.’ He raised his brows. ‘To be fair, Arla luv, when I ’eard one of the gels had wimped out, I thought it must be you.’

  Ellie had hidden her amusement behind the palm of her hand as she watched her friend rise to the bait.

  ‘You cheeky little beggar! I’ve done bloomin’ well on all me tests, passed with flyin’ colours, haven’t I, Ellie?’ Without waiting for a reply, she continued, ‘To think I was worried—’ She broke off and folded her arms across her chest.

  ‘Worried? Who was you worried about?’ He had raised an inquisitive brow. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve been worryin’ over your Archie.’

  Arla had stamped a furious foot. ‘Not on your life!’ she had said, her voice becoming shrill. ‘They only put you on a gun site ’cos if they’d stuck you behind a desk somewhere the smell would’ve driven all the others out!’

  Archie had rubbed his chin thoughtfully, although Ellie suspected it was to hide his mirth. ‘Good luck to those sharin’ a gun site with me then, eh?’

  Arla had nodded vigorously. ‘Too bloody right,’ she began, before realising that she would be one of them. She scowled at Archie and Ellie, who could not contain the giggles escaping their lips. She did not want to laugh with them, because he had been so infuriating, but their laughter was infectious.

  ‘Don’t you worry about a thing, our Arla. I promise not to get under your feet or cramp your style. I dare say you’ve a whole host of officers lined up waitin’ to take you out and about.’

  Arla nodded curtly. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘And if anyone mentions a smell, I’ll mek out it’s me what smells and not you,’ he said, dodging a badly aimed blow.

  Despite her words, Ellie knew her friend was relieved to have Archie where she could keep an eye on him. He might be annoying, and Arla seemed to spend most of her time complaining about him in one way or another, but it was plain, to Ellie at any rate, that their relationship had become close over the years, and their arguments resembled those of sibling rivalry – annoying each other to within an inch of their lives, but woe betide anyone else who spoke ill of either.

  Their time in Aborfield had been mostly spent in classrooms or learning how to operate the complex instruments which were used to work out the height and speed of approaching enemy aircraft so that gunners knew where to aim their shells. When Ellie had first clapped eyes on the predictor, an intimidating machine that bore a whole host of dials and switches, she thought she would never get the hang of it, but after some intense training sessions she soon understood the controls and was pleased when her instructor asked her to explain some of the intricacies to one of the other girls in her section. The height-finder – which the sergeant referred to as a glorified pair of binoculars – was far simpler, and when everyone had worked out what went where and did what, they would spend days acting out the scenario of a raid, each trainee undertaking a different role, from taking the calls to raising the alarm, from spotting the aircraft to predicting where it would be when the shell exploded. Out of all these jobs Ellie liked spotting the aircraft the most. She was good at it and never called on an Allied plane. She found the act of scanning the skies through her binoculars as she hunted the enemy thrilling, and considered it to be one of
the most important jobs she could do. After all, without the spotter no guns would be fired. For the first few days they had all suffered with sore throats from all the shouting they had to do. ‘When you go to a real gun site, you have to shout as loud as you can in order to be heard above the chaos, and it is chaos,’ Sergeant Briggs had told them. What with guns and shells being fired and the noise of the aircraft overhead, as well as the air raid siren, you’ll have a job to make yourself understood, so I want to hear you roaring clear instructions as loud as you can so that everyone around you knows what’s going on. We haven’t time to be repeating things. Got it?’

  ‘Yes, sir!’ had been the collective barked response.

  She had enjoyed this part of the training far more than the initial four weeks, when they had still been in the dreary depths of winter. It was, after all, far more pleasant to be working under bright blue skies, with birdsong in the background and the warmth of the spring sunshine on your back. With the evenings stretching out, the girls from her Nissen hut had taken the opportunity to explore the local area for dance halls and cinemas.

  ‘You’ll be living cheek by jowl, so it would be better if you not only worked together, but took time to get to know each other out of working hours too. That way you will become a far more efficient work engine,’ had been the advice of Sergeant Briggs.

  He had been right. They had moved on from being individuals working next to other people to being a team that acted as one. Ellie often wished that she was in the same section as Arla and Archie, but her fellow trainees proved to be likeable and fun, and it was interesting to work with girls from such a wide range of backgrounds.

  The last part of Ellie’s training would be starting in a few days’ time in Weybourne. If you failed there, it was back to the beginning to retrain, something that was always in the back of Ellie’s mind. She loved her job and could not imagine doing anything else. Even though she knew that being called to man her station would mean Britain was under attack, she could not wait to put all her training into action and help to defend her country from the Luftwaffe.

  She was polishing the brass buttons on her jacket when Arla burst through the door of their hut with a look of dismay. ‘I’ve just been told … our section’s off to Cornwall.’

  Ellie felt as though someone had pulled the rug out from under her feet. She stared blankly into space before finding her voice. ‘Cornwall? Why Cornwall? I thought we’d all be going to the same camp.’

  ‘I asked if I could go with you now that that girl – Mabel, was it? – has had to go home to look after her sick mam, but they just shook their heads and said that would leave Section C one short, so I suggested I could swap with someone from Section B but Sarge just said there was no room in the army for sentimentality and they didn’t like swapping members of sections unless it was absolutely necessary and that’s why we all train in teams in the first place. But it’s too late anyhow, ’cos we’re leavin’ tonight.’

  Ellie put her polish down on the floor and clasped Arla’s hands in her own. ‘Perhaps we’ll end up on the same placement together when we get posted. You never know your luck. We’ll just have to keep our fingers crossed.’

  Arla nodded wearily. ‘We can always write to each other, and when we get a bit of leave we could meet up somewhere.’

  Ellie smiled. ‘That’s the spirit! I know you won’t be able to come to the dance tonight, but there’s nowt stoppin’ us goin’ into town now and gettin’ a sticky bun and a cuppa.’

  A small smile appeared on Arla’s lips. ‘You payin’?’

  Relieved that her friend’s mood was improving, Ellie nodded. ‘Course I am. It’ll be my goodbye prezzie, and when we come back I’ll help you get ready so there’ll be enough time to see if there’s any films playin’ on camp before you leave.’

  Arla gave Ellie’s hand a squeeze. ‘You’re a good ’un, Ellie Lancton, and I ain’t half goin’ to miss you.’

  Ellie nodded. ‘It wasn’t how we planned things, but I suppose deep down we must’ve always known summat like this might happen, although it would’ve been grand to be together. Look on the bright side: at least you’ve got Archie.’

  Arla giggled. ‘I thought you were meant to be makin’ me feel better, not worse. Come on. Sticky buns are calling!’

  Chapter Six

  ‘How do! Are you Aidan Murray?’

  Aidan looked up from the letter he was writing. ‘Morning, and yes, why?’

  The man stepped forward, a broad grin on his face as he held out a hand. ‘I’m Norbert Wiggins, Wiggy to my pals. I’m afraid we’ve had a bit of a leak in our room so they told me to come up here ’cos you’ve got a spare bed.’

  Aidan nodded to one of the beds in the corner of the room. ‘That one’s free over there. What kind of leak?’

  ‘Not the kind you eat.’ wiggy chortled, and Aidan couldn’t help thinking that he had probably told this joke more than once in the past hour or so. ‘The sink tap had a bit of a drip, nothing major but annoying all the same. One of the lads decided he’d try and fix it.’ Wiggy rolled his eyes. ‘The tap was stuck fast, so he hit it with the spanner.’ He gestured to his wet uniform. ‘Next thing we know there’s water squirtin’ everywhere and no one can find the stop tap.’

  Aidan nodded towards their bathroom. ‘There’s a towel in there if you need it.’

  ‘Ta. As you can imagine, everything in our bathroom got soaked through.’ Wiggy looked out of the hotel window. ‘Coo, look at that view! If I’d’ve known I could change rooms for one with a sea view, I’d’ve broken the tap meself!’

  Aidan chuckled. ‘I must admit after Ludlow I thought they were pulling my leg when they said our new barracks was going to be a hotel, and when I saw this place for the first time I really thought someone was having a laugh at my expense.’

  ‘Me too, especially with my luck. I’ve never been somewhere this grand in all my life – pardon the pun.’

  Aidan smiled. ‘That’s probably why they named it The Grand.’ He wrinkled his brow, something Wiggy had said sticking in his mind. ‘What do you mean, “especially with my luck”?’

  Wiggy placed his bag on the bed that Aidan had indicated. ‘I’ve had nowt but bad luck ever since I signed on the dotted line. I got on the train to go to Lords and the bloomin’ thing broke down. Twelve hours we were stuck on that line, no food or water, and to top it off the onboard lavvy broke. I thought that were bad enough, but after initial training, when we were on our way from Lords to Ludlow, the flamin’ driver didn’t know where he was goin’; not that he admitted it, of course. We got two flat tyres ’cos we’d ended up on some godforsaken back lane with potholes the size of your head, and when we got out of the truck we found some bugger had taken the spare. Not only that, but when we walked to the main road and flagged a car down we found out we were eighty miles in the wrong direction.’ He puffed his cheeks out. ‘I’m tellin’ you now, if it weren’t for bad luck I wouldn’t have any at all.’

  Aidan felt sorry for the crew who would be flying with Wiggy. ‘Maybe your luck’s changing. After all, you said yourself that you’re in a better room now than the one you were in.’

  Wiggy rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘Aye, you’re right there, but on the other hand we’ve got to pay for the tap to be fixed and the carpet to be sorted out, and I bet it weren’t the cheap stuff, not in a place like this.’

  ‘I don’t see why you should have to fork out. It wasn’t you who broke the tap.’

  ‘Yes, well, I know I didn’t hit the tap myself, but it was me what told him to do it, like,’ Wiggy said sheepishly. He pointed at the letter Aidan was holding. ‘I don’t s’pose you got a spare piece of paper, by any chance? I wouldn’t mind writin’ to my Minnie, only of course mine got wet ’cos we were trying to stop the leak with anything and everything we had to hand.’

  Nodding, Aidan handed him a spare sheet. ‘Minnie your wife?’

  Wiggy shook his head. ‘Me girlfriend, or at least I think she is.’ />
  Aidan raised a questioning brow. ‘How do you mean, you think she is? Surely you know whether you’re courtin’ someone or not?’

  Wiggy sat heavily on to his bed. ‘I know I’m courtin’ her; trouble is, accordin’ to one of the old fellers in the Nag’s Head, it looks as though I might not be the only feller she’s courtin’, if you follow my meaning.’ He let out a soulful sigh. ‘Bit of a popular girl is my Minnie.’ He jerked his head towards Aidan’s letter. ‘You seein’ anyone special?’

  Aidan nodded, then shrugged. ‘Kind of, only it’s a bit complicated.’

  Wiggy looked interested. ‘How so?’

  ‘It’s a long story.’ Aidan would have stopped there, but Wiggy was insistent.

  ‘We’re going to be rooming together for the best part of five months, pal; you’ve plenty of time to tell it.’

  Pushing his letter away reluctantly, Aidan turned to face him. ‘I met her last spring, She was havin’ a bit of bother back in Liverpool: her mam had died a couple of months before and she was finding it hard to pay the rent, so she came to work on my dad’s farm. When she first arrived it was like having my sister Cassie back, but after a while …’ he shrugged his shoulders, ‘she started to mean more to me.’

  ‘Did you tell her?’ said Wiggy, who was clearly intrigued.

  ‘I wanted to, but I knew she intended to join the services so that she could prove to herself that she could cope on her own.’

  ‘Ah,’ Wiggy said knowingly. ‘She can’t be relyin’ on a feller if she wants to cope on her own. I see your problem.’

  ‘I just hope she doesn’t prove she can cope on her own with someone else,’ said Aidan. ‘Working day and night with a bunch of fellers on the gun sites she might easily fall in love with one of them.’

  Wiggy grimaced. ‘Softly softly catchee monkey is all very well if you haven’t got a whole heap of eager monkey-snatchers joinin’ the chase.’

  Aidan laughed. ‘Thanks a lot, pal. That makes me feel a lot better.’

  Wiggy held up an apologetic hand. ‘Sorry, mate; I were just sayin’ what you were thinkin’, only I’m not very good at these things. Me mam always used to say I were about as subtle as a brick.’