She knew a little bit about him. Georgette had painted broad strokes in a few letters over the last few months. She knew he was younger than her sister, but with the whole world on fire, what did that matter? After seeing a nineteen year old AB sobbing for his mother while nursing a stump covered in bloody bandages, age was just a number. The pace of life had accelerated and the normal conventions of peacetime just looked silly.
“Is it very bad?” she asked quietly.
Carter didn’t answer her immediately, wondering how to answer such a question. He just nodded, not quite trusting his voice. In the dark, by the glow of the fire with the clock ticking in the background, it almost felt like a confessional. He cleared his throat and rubbed his hands together.
“Yes, yes it is,” he said slowly.
He glanced at her for a moment and she nodded for him to continue. He turned his attention back to the fire and stared into the distance. The fire burned low, the light a faint glimmer playing over him. His face was in shadow, his eyes dark pits, his cheekbones highlighted.
“I’m surprised I’ve lasted as long as I have,” he admitted, being honest with himself, allowing that guard to come down in this one moment. He sighed and sat back, disappearing into the black. Julie heard the fatigue and strain there of someone who was hanging on by his fingernails, doing his best to cope with it all.
“I should have died so many times before,” he breathed, his voice disembodied in the dark.
Carter regarded her in the gloom, wondering how much he should say. He told her about being a wallflower in the Ops Room for a few days and how difficult it had been, worrying about his men, especially as he had already lost one crew.
“How do you go on?” she asked.
He muttered to himself, suddenly tired of talking and delving inside. Then he thought about how strange things could be. On any given night, if you were given the choice between being in ops and sitting one out, or going on an op, he knew what the choice would be. The thing was, when it truly came to the crunch, no one wanted to be left behind, even if that gave you another day of life. He wondered how Wheeler could stand it, to fly no more ops and put yourself through that agony, of seeing other men go up night after night.
“You don’t want to let everyone else down, I suppose.”
She thought about that as she compared him to Georgette’s husband Charles. He had been tall and dashing in his uniform with a killer smile. Charm personified, he was the glamour boy who carried everyone along with his bubbling enthusiasm.
Charles would never have bared his soul like this. He would have sneered at such thoughts and expression of feeling. His world had been all bluster and bravado even to the very end. Julie had always thought that Charles had lacked imagination. Maybe that wasn’t such a good thing, she considered.
She knew you had to have belief in yourself and your abilities to get by. Getting the chop? Oh, that was something that happened to the other fellow. The MTB boys were like that. They were brash and loud, shooting a line while sipping their pink gins, not thinking about the close shaves out of their control.
She had seen how Charles’ death had affected Georgette and it had been good to see her sister come alive again. They had gossiped earlier in the kitchen and she had seen her sister bright and animated for the first time in a long while. A lot of that was down to the man in front of her now.
They talked for a little while longer staying on safe topics such as school and family holidays. After a few more minutes, Julie took her leave and went back upstairs, leaving Carter dozing in the armchair, her blanket over his legs.
He woke shivering with the dawn. He stretched and winced at the pain in his neck. He got up, draped the blanket over his shoulders and went into the kitchen. He put the kettle on to make some tea. It had been a while since he had to make tea. At Amber Hill it was all done for you. He spent a few minutes rummaging around to hunt out the makings. He took two mugs upstairs, toed the door to Georgette’s room open and went in.
Being the youngest, Georgette had drawn the short straw as a child and got the smallest room in the house. She was in a small box room, about nine feet by six. There was room for a single bed, a wardrobe and a small table and even that was a squeeze. The room was dark with the blackout curtains drawn. He edged into the room and perched on the side of her bed. She stirred and turned over.
“Good morning.” He held out the mug of tea. She sat up and he kissed her.
“Good morning,” she replied. “Sleep well?”
“”Wonderful,” he lied. He painted a smile on his face while he thought about his late night chat with Julie with some misgivings. If he had said things like that back at the squadron they would have though he was going soft; cracking up. She shifted over on the bed to make space for him. He lifted his feet and leaned back against the headboard, bumping shoulders with her.
“So what’s happening today?” he asked.
“Go into town, have a browse around maybe,” she suggested. “There’s a nice walk along the river that goes to Teddington.”
Carter liked the idea of seeing some nature and leaving modern life to one side for a while. Kew Gardens was not that far away either. He kissed her forehead and went back to his room to get changed. He came onto the landing and saw Georgette’s mother standing there, arms crossed, her face a picture.
“Just delivering a cup of tea, Mrs Waters,” he reassured her. She nodded with a thin lipped suspicious knowing look and watched him all the way to his room. He shook his head and smiled while he sat on the bed, putting on his socks.
Julie walked into Kingston with them. The sisters walked arm in arm looking like peas from the same pod, all smiles and chatter. Carter trailed behind, hands jammed in his pockets, fedora slouched back on his head. It felt strange being out of uniform but he wanted to enjoy it while he could. Soon enough he would be back to the usual routine at Amber Hill.
He’d never been to Kingston before. It lacked the bustle of London but it had wide streets and big shops. The girls went into Bentalls, a huge department store that ran the length of Wood Street. Inside were floors devoted to female fashion, makeup and other mysteries. Once Julie and Georgette started trying on hats and discussing in fine detail the cut of a coat he bailed out. He told them he would see them later in the cafe on the top floor.
He mooched around the rest of the store. He hovered in the sportswear section and took some experimental swipes with tennis rackets. A salesman tried to sell him a full set of cricket whites but Carter politely declined. He went down to the ground floor and stood in the centre of the store, staring up at the glass ceiling.
“Can I interest you in a pen, sir?”
He swivelled his head towards a tall brunette behind a counter. He blinked twice as he processed what she said. He focused on the glass cabinet and realised it was the pen counter. He drifted over. She held out a black barrelled fountain pen. He took it in his hand and hefted it. It was very light, not to his taste at all. He’d always wanted a decent pen and settled on a classic black fountain pen with a medium nib. He bought a bottle of black ink to go with it and pocketed the lot.
He sauntered up to the cafe and picked a seat by the window. A waitress came over and he asked for a pot of tea and scones. He tugged out Piccadilly Jim from a pocket and picked up where he’d left off.
Georgette found him like that thirty minutes later. She sat down across from him and had the last half of scone on his plate. She slurped his tea and gave him a beaming smile.
“You ready?” he asked without looking up from the novel. He had just got to the bit where the hero found out why his lady love hated his guts. It was the usual superlative bit of farce from Wodehouse that he found such good fun.
“Done,” Georgette announced. “Julie’s gone off to do some more shopping. Shall we go?”
“Provided you’re done. I don’t want to drag you away from your sister if you’re not ready.”
“Spent up,” she told him. He closed the boo
k and glanced at her hat. A dark blue creation it was angled to the right, like pilots wore their peaked caps. Two long pheasant tail feathers trailed out the back.
“Very nice,” he told her.
He got up, left some coins on the table to cover the tea and scones. She took his hand and they walked out of the cafe together.
As they descended the stairs in the central atrium, Georgette told him about coming to the store as a little girl and rushing to the toy department to see the dolls. She remembered, they always came in the entrance to the store that led through the china department.
“Mother always kept a tight grip of my hand,” she told him solemnly. “She always warned us, ‘nobody touch anything’, with a face like thunder and that if we broke anything we’d never get any more pocket money forever.” She smiled at the memory. “Bentalls has a special place in our family. Mother went into labour twice in the lift here. Dad often teased her about that.”
Carter laughed, amused at the stories. They got to the bottom of the stairs and walked past the perfume counters. Exotic smells wafted over him, a pleasant change from his usual diet of aviation fuel, rubber, cordite and smoke. Georgette looked around to get her bearings and then went left towards the main entrance.
Stepping outside the store they turned right on Clarence Street and went down to the river heading along the footpath on the east bank towards Teddington. Apart from a few dog walkers they had the path to themselves. They walked arm in arm, literally glued together, taking their time. As they walked, they talked about life before the war. Carter recounted tales of Cambridge, being in halls while he studied law. Georgette detected what she thought was a hint of reluctance on his part.
“Expectation,” he said. “Dad was a barrister, so it seemed only natural for me to follow in his footsteps.”
“And now?” she asked, encouraging him to talk about it. He scratched at his scar, caught her looking at him and shoved his hand in his pocket.
“I’ve never really thought that far ahead to be honest. Once the war started I left all of that behind.” He kicked at a pebble on the path and watch it skitter along before abruptly turning left and falling into the river. Ripples radiated across the water. “Then it was all the fuss of flying training and going solo, then getting on to ops, then getting through a tour.”
“I always had a hankering to go off and do something,” she told him. “Go to Greece and see the Parthenon, sit in the Colosseum; squash grapes at a vineyard. Being the youngest I saw my sisters go off and get married and have children, I just didn’t want to do the same thing and follow them into domestic oblivion right away.”
“It’s a big world out there,” he admitted.
Two heavily loaded barges went the other way downriver, the engines chug-chugging along. The man at the stern gave them a cheery wave as he went past.
They lunched at the pub by the lock gate. Cater enjoyed the activity as people came and went. The river was busy and it was an obvious stopping point for people to get a drink or a sandwich on their travels.
In the afternoon they took a bus to Richmond Park. Georgette wanted to take him to King’s Mount in the grounds of Pembroke Lodge but they found it all fenced off with barbed wire. She had to settle for showing him the view from the approach slope which was not the same thing. Even so, it was still impressive.
Looking east he could see London on the horizon. St Paul’s Cathedral was surrounded by a shoal of floating barrage balloons that bobbed and drifted on the breeze. Distance hid the scars of the Blitz he remembered seeing on leave before Christmas.
They carried on walking and went off the beaten track, through a patch of trees and found a wide area of tall grass on a gentle declining slope. Wading through it, they came to a glade surrounded by wooded slopes on all sides. A footpath ran alongside a thin stream and Carter saw a bench further up. Wind ruffled the trees, but the surrounding slopes acted as a wind break around them. He sat down on the bench, his legs grateful for the rest. Georgette snuggled up to him, her arm linked through his. He planted a kiss on her forehead and she stirred.
“I’ve waited all day for this,” she murmured.
“So have I.” He hummed to himself, starting with a few bars of Glenn Miller before blending into a bit of Vera Lynn. She could feel the rumble through his chest and closed her eyes, content. Her hand hunted for his and closed around it, holding it tight.
They heard the grass rustling and looked around. A red deer stared back at them. It licked its nose and then bent down again, sniffing their way towards them. Georgette made shooing motions with her hands. There was a moments pause and then it ran off to the left. Carter stood up to see the deer join a small herd of ten or twelve that had a big stag with antlers in the lead. Georgette appeared at his shoulder and made an ‘oh’ sound as she saw them.
“They’re wonderful,” she breathed.
Another group of deer which included some younger bucks followed the first group. A big female stopped ten yards away and stared at them and remained in place, on guard, until they had all crossed the glade. The doe shook her head, snorted at them and then followed up behind.
They got the bus back home, footsore and tired. Harriet had dinner waiting for them when they came in. They found Julie relaxing on the sofa in the living room, listening to the radio. She looked up when Georgette poked her head around the door.
“Hello you. Good day?” she enquired.
Julie sprang up from the sofa and smoothed down her skirt.
“Pretty good. I got a nice dress and a pair of shoes. How about you?” Julie arched an eyebrow and Georgette blushed.
“We had a nice time,” she replied.
After dinner they settled down in the living room as the weather turned. A squall moved in and rain lashed the windows. Carter got a good blaze going in the hearth and they were nice and snug. Harriet knitted, Julie read a book and Georgette dug out a puzzle. Carter wrote a letter with his new pen. The radio was on low in the background as the conversation went back and forth, always coming back to the war before striking off on another tangent.
American forces were starting to arrive in the UK. Carter was buoyed by this, but it would be months before they actually started to do anything. The news from the Far East was still bad. Singapore had fallen causing shockwaves in government. Churchill had considered it his Gibraltar of the Far East. The Japanese seemed to be advancing on all fronts and had reached Java, Burma and the Solomon Islands. Curious, Carter picked up an atlas from the shelf and was shocked to see how far their reach had extended in such a few short months.
Gloomy, he sat down at the table next to Georgette and fiddled with the puzzle pieces. She playfully slapped his hand.
“If you’re going to do it, don’t mess up my piles. Edges there, inner bits there.” Grumbling, he put them back and paid more attention.
Harriet asked them about their plans for tomorrow. Carter played a wait and see card. He fancied going to Kew Gardens but if the weather stayed the same he would rather give it a miss. Julie demurred. She had a date for tomorrow night but she wasn’t about to say that in front of her mother.
The bedrooms were cold and Carter was glad to have a hot water bottle to keep him company. He was out like a light within ten minutes.
It rained all night but cleared with the dawn. A night owl, it was past ten before Carter roused himself. Harriet had gone out and Julie was busy dressing in her room when he shambled into the kitchen.
Georgette was spreading margarine on some bread when he came in. She was wearing a knee length, short sleeve mint green dress paired with white and brown Oxfords. A dark green long sleeve cardigan was draped over the back of a chair. She pointed to a wicker basket with a knife.
“I thought we might have a picnic.”
“Sounds good,” Carter agreed, buffing an apple on his trousers.
They drove to Kew Gardens and spent the day wandering the grounds. After the rain, the day had a fragile quality. The moody sky threatened r
ain but a fresh breeze kept it at bay. Large parts of the lawns had been turned over to cultivation and there were rows of new potatoes and other vegetables waiting to be picked.
They finished early and headed for home, calling on her sisters, Mary, Claire and Margaret and to see the children again before they left the following day. David didn’t ask any awkward questions this time and Carter had a kick around with him in the narrow garden at the back of the house. Georgette helped Claire and Margaret make tea while Mary played with the other children in the living room.
“He seems nice,” Margaret said primly which Georgette knew was a resounding endorsement where her sister was concerned. Margaret had never approved of her marrying Charles so this grudging comment was welcome indeed. The next question was a surprise.
“Is he going to marry you?” she asked directly.
“If he wants to,” said Georgette, stung by the question. “I’ll not force him one way or another.”
Margaret sniffed, that haughty, huffy sniff she always did when the answer didn’t measure up to her expectations.
“Well, you know your own mind,” she replied and Georgette left it at that.
In the evening, they relaxed. Georgette completed the puzzle. Carter wrote a long letter to his brother. Away from Amber Hill, he had a chance to say a few things without fear of Saunderson’s critical eye.
Julie was floating from her date when she came in later on. She had gone to the cinema with her new man. That meant she’d seen the news reel and the opening and end credits of the main feature, being otherwise occupied inbetween.
When her mother asked her about the plot, she was able to give her a summary of the plot because she had seen Pimpernel Smith the week before in Dover. Her mother was suitably mollified, reasoning that such a good understanding of the film could only have occurred if there had been no monkey business on the back row. They turned in early, Carter again welcome for the hot water bottle, this time he kept his socks on as well.
Maximum Effort Page 47
