Out of the Blue

by Val Rutt

  Kitty gazed up at Sammy as he spoke and then turned her head slowly back towards Mrs Parkes as he finished. She smiled as Sammy took her arm.

  ‘Well, you must excuse us now, Mrs Parkes, but Kitty and I are going to the cinema.’

  ‘Good day to you, Mrs Parkes,’ Kitty said.

  Sammy led Kitty away and, when she glanced over her shoulder, Mrs Parkes was still standing on the path beside the bench.

  ‘Will she get you into trouble with your aunt?’ Sammy asked.

  ‘How can she? We haven’t done anything wrong!’ Kitty replied crossly.

  ‘Well, I know that, but she seems the type to stir up mischief if she can.’

  Kitty leaned her cheek against Sammy’s sleeve and squeezed his arm. ‘Let’s forget about her. I don’t want anything to spoil today and I am certainly not going to worry about Mrs Parkes. What shall we do now?’

  ‘Well, what do you say we catch a movie?’ he asked.

  ‘I’d love to – I wonder what’s showing?’

  ‘Who cares? I’ll just be happy to sit beside you. And it’ll be dark so I’ll be able to kiss you as much as I like.’

  ‘Oh, that’s what you’ve got planned is it?’

  ‘Well, the thought did just cross my mind.’

  ‘Hmm. We’ll just have to see about that – I’m a very respectable young lady, you know.’

  August 2006

  Kitty carries her portable typewriter in its grey case to the dining room table where she heaves it up and opens it. She sits down and passes a sheet of paper through the roller and begins to type.

  Dear John F. Bailey Rowe,

  I did indeed know your grandfather and he was the very best of men. He spent some of World War Two stationed at an airbase near my aunt and uncle’s home where I had been evacuated with my brother during the Blitz in London. A few years ago, after my husband died, the cottage came on the market again and I bought it as I have very happy memories of living here despite the war. As you see, Danby was my maiden name and I doubt your letter would have found me if it were not for my moving back here.

  The brief time that I knew your grandfather was very special and he is fondly remembered. Personally, I do not know much about the planes your grandfather flew but I am still in touch with Mr Albert Wright who was a member of the ground crew at the airbase. He remembers your grandfather very well and I am enclosing some information that Bert has given me about the Mustangs – P-51s – that he piloted. I believe that he was an exceptional pilot. I know that he was brave and flew many missions into Germany accompanying the B24s that bombed the Luftwaffe factories before D-Day in 1944.

  When I next go to the post office I will send you a book of poetry that once belonged to your grandfather – there is a photograph inside that was his also.

  Yours sincerely,

  Mrs Katharine M. Poll nee Danby

  Kitty pulls the paper through the typewriter and replaces it with a clean sheet on which she types up the notes that she took at Bert’s house. She reads everything through and imagines Sammy’s grandson, a freckled, fair-haired teenager, pouring over flight specifications and battle manoeuvres. She signs the letter then folds it into a blue airmail envelope and carefully copies out John Bailey Rowe’s address.

  Soon she will take it to post, but now Kitty sits with the letter in her hands and in a moment forgets the boy it is addressed to.

  June 1944

  In the flickering darkness of the cinema, Kitty’s mind wandered from the images on the screen. She had known Sammy for such a short time, yet being with him did not feel new or awkward. Kitty marvelled at this for a while, her small hand held in his large one. Just a few weeks ago she had not heard of Sammy Ray Bailey and now, somehow, she felt more at ease and happier than she had ever felt before. She didn’t feel at ease with, say, Uncle Geoff whom she had known all her life.

  In the film two men, one fat and one thin, were trying to move a piano. Sammy laughed at their slapstick antics – a loud joyous explosion that lifted his feet from the floor and threw his head backwards. Kitty turned to him and grinned, her own laughter soft and bubbling in her throat. He kissed her, then another laugh, partly suppressed, burst from him. With the warmth of his breath on her face, Kitty felt a rush of energy and thought she would melt into her seat. Sammy hooked his arm around her neck and pulled her close to him. Kitty leaned against him and let her attention drift between the film and her thoughts. Waves of laughter filled the auditorium and she thought, If there wasn’t a war on, this is how it would always be.

  And, just as Kitty was conjuring up a world without the war, the low wail of the air-raid siren began and the film juddered to a halt. Sammy grabbed Kitty’s hand and pulled her into the aisle even as she reached for her coat. The majority of the audience were now making their way up the auditorium towards the foyer. Sammy went against the queue of people and towards the stage and screen, weaving his way between people and pulling Kitty along behind him. They arrived at the fire exit and Sammy dropped Kitty’s hand and hit the bars so that the doors swung open. Several people turned then and followed them on to the street. The siren had reached full pitch and volume now and, as it was sited on the town hall opposite where they stood, they felt the full impact of it.

  ‘We’ll go to the public shelter in the park,’ Sammy shouted, and he took hold of Kitty’s hand once more and hurried on, adding, ‘Are you all right?’

  Kitty nodded. But, as they ran up the road, they saw an ARP warden in a side street guiding people into the cellar beneath a public house. Sammy took Kitty over to him.

  ‘Did you see anything, sir?’ he asked.

  The older man looked up and his gaze took in Sammy’s uniform.

  ‘Something went over a while back – didn’t recognise what. Couple of our boys were after it.’

  Sammy squinted up at the early evening sky before guiding Kitty down the cellar steps.

  It was cold and dingy and they made their way across the stone floor, past kegs of beer to the far wall. About thirty people were already settling themselves on hessian-covered sandbags. Sammy took off his jacket and placed it around Kitty’s shoulders. Some people were talking, but they stood quietly holding hands in the dark, waiting for the siren that sounded the all-clear.

  It was a long wait and they missed the bus they had planned to catch. When they reached the bus stop there was no one around and the emergency timetable was difficult to read in the dimming light. Kitty was faintly worried that Aunt Vi would be wondering where she was, but knew that it could not be helped. She would explain and Aunt Vi would understand that they had been caught in a raid and had to take shelter. Nonetheless, Kitty felt uneasy.

  ‘Are you tired?’ Sammy asked.

  Kitty smiled and took a small step closer to him. ‘I’ve had a wonderful day, Sammy,’ she said.

  ‘Me too.’

  A man approached them. He was wearing the uniform of the Home Guard and he saluted Sammy before nodding at Kitty.

  ‘There’ll be no more buses from here tonight. What’s your destination?’

  Kitty told him and the man pulled a notebook from his pocket and studied it as he rubbed at his moustache.

  ‘There is transport leaving from Kelly Street – take you some of the way. You could see if they have room for you. Best be quick, mind.’

  They followed his directions but, as they turned into the end of the street, they saw a large group of people.

  ‘We’ll never get on,’ Kitty said.

  ‘Wait here a second, Kit.’ Sammy nodded towards a group of servicemen standing beside a tarpaulin-covered lorry. ‘I’m going to speak to those guys – see if I can get us a lift.’

  Kitty sank her hands into her pockets and watched Sammy walk away. She saw the other men turn towards him and gaze at him for a few moments. Something he said made them laugh and, for some reason she could not explain, seeing it made Kitty proud. Everyone likes Sammy, she thought. Everyone can see what a good person he is.

&nbs
p; ‘We’re in – we just have to be a bit cute about it,’ Sammy whispered as he returned to her side. He laughed. ‘Don’t worry – trust me.’ He led her across the road as a voice shouted, ‘Sorry, folks, That’s it – no more.’

  Kitty glanced back to where people continued to stand around the transport as if they thought better news might come if they waited. The engine started up and the crowd began to disperse. The soldiers climbed into the back of their lorry and it too pulled away from the kerb.

  ‘Oh dear, what shall we do now?’ Kitty asked.

  ‘It’s okay, come on!’

  They turned a corner and Sammy let his grasp slip from her elbow to her hand and broke into a run, pulling her along with him. He grinned at her over his shoulder and Kitty laughed as her feet skimmed the pavement. Behind her she heard the roar of an accelerating engine and the first lorry passed them. Then the second thundered by, and Kitty saw the smiling faces of the group of soldiers each reaching a khaki-clad arm out towards her. The lorry’s gears crunched and it began to slow. One man, grinning broadly, leaned right over the tailgate and held his hand out to Kitty. The lorry pulled over and stopped.

  ‘Go on,’ Sammy murmured, ‘I’m right behind you.’

  Kitty reached up and took the soldier’s hand and was hauled upwards so that she made a weightless climb over the tailgate.

  Inside the lorry, she hesitated and smiled and nodded a general greeting into the gloom, aware that many men sat or crouched in the dimness. It was only a moment before Sammy had clambered in beside her but she had time to feel alone and uncomfortable. She was breathless and suddenly shy. The lorry smelled of diesel fumes, damp tarpaulin and sweat. There were other smells too, something sweet – and beer. The nearest soldiers sat with their backs to the walls, hands clasped on their knees. She felt herself being stared at. One or two greeted her. Then, Sammy was beside her again and she found his hand and held it tight. Sammy managed to sit down, his back against the tailgate as the lorry pulled away. Kitty fell against him and he pulled her on to his lap and put his arm around her shoulders. She caught his eye and he held her gaze for the briefest of moments. His look told her that everything was and would be all right and she felt herself relax.

  Kitty rested her chin on Sammy’s shoulder and looked out of the back of the vehicle and watched the road fall away behind them. She watched the rows of houses and then, as they left the town, the deepening blue V of sky between the hedges and trees. The light was fading fast as they approached the first village and the lorry pulled up beside the green. Kitty felt a twinge of anxiety as she thought of Aunt Vi waiting up for them.

  ‘We don’t want to get out here, do we?’ Sammy asked quietly.

  There was a low murmuring from deep inside the transport and the sound of shifting feet.

  ‘It’s a long walk from here,’ Kitty whispered. ‘Are they going on to the next village?’

  A voice began to complain in the darkness and was met by a rally of protests.

  ‘Leave off, will you?’

  ‘Come on, Tucker – move it!’

  ‘Ahh – keep your hair on, Pop.’

  ‘We haven’t got all night, son – sort yourself out.’

  ‘There’s no budging her – what am I s’posed to do?’

  Kitty thought she had misheard but then there was another voice in the darkness – a woman’s, treacly and thick as if she were slowing down or just waking.

  ‘I’m happy where I am – I’m in heaven I am.’

  A man sniggered. The driver, impatient to be moving, revved the engine.

  ‘Come on, Tucker, get her out of here.’

  ‘Come on, girl, up you get – wakey wakey!’

  In the vying for space and shifting of bodies that followed, Kitty, Sammy and four soldiers climbed down from the lorry. Kitty stood on the road and noticed that her shoes were pinching her toes, that she had a sore place on her back, between her shoulders, and that she was thirsty and getting a headache. She also felt a nagging anxiety and, even though she told herself that Aunt Vi would understand, she couldn’t shrug the feeling off. She looked at Sammy, but he was staring up into the transport and frowning. As Kitty’s eyes moved from his face, she noticed that one of the soldiers standing beside the truck was staring at her. The way he looked at her chilled her; it was not a look that required a response – she might as well have been an object in a glass case. She wanted to walk away but instead moved closer to Sammy. He was watching the bustling movement inside the truck.

  The soldier called Tucker reached the tailgate. He had his arm around the waist of a woman who, though she was smiling, appeared to be asleep on her feet. Tucker let go of her and began to climb out and the woman swayed until another man put his arm around her shoulders and steadied her.

  ‘Oooh!’ The woman giggled and swung round into the soldier, pressing herself against his body.

  ‘Come on – time to go home, love.’ The soldier pushed her away, then bent to lift her up and heave her out of the lorry and into Tucker’s arms. Kitty saw that her blouse buttons were misaligned and that her lipstick was smudged.

  Tucker placed the woman on her feet, set his hands on her shoulders then took them away. He let his hands hover near her as if she were a house of cards he had just built and was willing not to topple. She swayed, then staggered a few steps. A man yelled from the lorry and a handbag was thrown out. The soldier who had been staring at Kitty caught it.

  ‘Right then, love, you’ll be all right,’ Tucker said and turned away from her. He rubbed his palms together as he waited his turn to board the lorry behind the other men. Only the staring soldier and Kitty and Sammy stayed put and made no move to return to the vehicle. Sammy touched Tucker’s shoulder.

  ‘Aren’t you going to see her home?’

  Tucker turned and pulled a face at Sammy.

  ‘She’s all right, bud – what’s it to you?’

  Kitty watched the woman walking slowly away in a meandering curve that would take her on to the green and towards a duck pond.

  ‘Leave her with me – I’ll see to her.’ The soldier who held the bag made to follow the woman across the grass. A voice from within the lorry called out, ‘Yeah, you’ll see to her all right!’

  The words were followed by laughter. An ice-cold feeling of dread landed heavily in Kitty’s stomach.

  ‘No, wait!’ she said, stepping forward. She took hold of the handbag. ‘It’s fine, I’ll go with her.’

  The soldier held on to the bag for a moment but, as Sammy stepped up behind Kitty, he let out a sigh and pushed the bag towards her.

  ‘We’ll walk her home,’ Sammy said. ‘It’s on our way, right?’

  ‘Yes,’ Kitty said. ‘It’s fine.’

  The driver revved the engine again then crunched it into gear. With a last look after the woman, the soldier swore under his breath and ran for the lorry. He managed to clamber in as it pulled away. Kitty and Sammy watched him go then turned back just in time to see the woman sink to her knees.

  August 2006

  Kitty sits shaking her head. She wonders what became of that woman. A girl really, she thinks, can’t have been much over twenty. It is strange to be thinking of her now. She has not given her a moment’s thought in over sixty years. Kitty stirs herself from the table and plans to walk out to the post. This won’t do, she thinks, daydreaming all day. But as she collects her keys in the hall and sets out with her letter in her hand, the name of the girl in the lorry jumps into her mind and her thoughts return to that night in 1944.

  June 1944

  Her name, she told them, was Joyce. They helped her up, supported her between them and guided her back to the road. It was quite dark by then and the waning moon, though still more than three-quarters full, had not yet risen above the treetops.

  ‘Where do you live?’ Kitty asked.

  ‘Had to go did he? My young man?’

  Kitty and Sammy exchanged glances. Joyce pointed to where a row of small houses led towards a pub an
d began to sing: ‘Kiss me goodnight, Sergeant Major – put me in my little wooden bed!’

  They made for the cottage at the end of the terrace and, as they approached, a side door opened and they were just able to make out the face of an older woman in the shadows. Joyce had hung between them, allowing herself to be dragged along, singing and giggling. But now she pulled herself up straight and took her handbag from Kitty.

  ‘Hello, Ma,’ she said, scraping her heels loudly as she climbed the kerb. Sammy and Kitty followed and waited for her to go inside. Kitty smiled at the woman she presumed to be Joyce’s mother, not knowing whether to expect to be thanked for bringing Joyce home or to be asked for an explanation. But the woman stared blank-faced and, as soon as Joyce had passed through the doorway, she shut the door on them without a word.

  ‘Oh dear,’ said Kitty.

  Sammy took her arm and they walked away. ‘I’m sorry, Kitty.’

  ‘I hope she’ll be all right.’

  ‘I’m afraid we’re gonna have to walk now.’

  ‘Well, I didn’t want to get back in that lorry so —’

  ‘Oh God, no, I’m sorry, I am so sorry, Kitty.’

  They reached the pub and Kitty stopped to sit for a moment on a bench.

  ‘It’s about five miles from here, maybe a bit less.’ Kitty bent over and rubbed her toes through her shoes. ‘Trouble is, my feet hurt.’

  Sammy waited beside her for a moment before sitting down. ‘Do you want to rest for a while?’

  Kitty shook her head. ‘Aunt Vi will be waiting up and worrying. I think we should keep going.’

  They left the village, and Sammy took Kitty’s hand and squeezed it before pulling her closer to him and slipping his arm around her waist.

  ‘Lean on me.’

  ‘Tell me more about your home and your family.’

  ‘Well . . .’ Sammy thought for a moment while they climbed a rise. As they reached the brow and the lane curved away from them, he began to speak and Kitty tipped her head towards him and listened. She forgot about her sore toes and lost herself in the rhythm of walking and the sound of his voice. It was rich and mellow and confident, and every word he spoke told her that he loved her. He told her about how, the spring before he’d left for England, he’d built a cabin near the river with his father, his Uncle Joe and his cousins Hal and Bobbie. They had hauled the wood across three fields and built it from scratch. He reckoned his pa and Uncle Joe had it all planned out as a getaway for extended fishing trips but his Ma and Aunt Sue had other ideas. When the cabin was finished, the two families had a picnic by the river. There was Sammy and his parents, his sister Annie and baby brother Little Joe, and Aunt Sue and Uncle Joe and Hal and Bobbie. It was a hot day and, while the women unpacked the food, everyone else swam.