by Carol Rivers
Mrs Howard straightened her back and looked her pupil sternly in the eye. ‘It’s true our British Expeditionary Forces are outnumbered on the beaches of Dunkirk. But we were driven back by an unbelievably huge German army, after the surrender of Belgium.’
‘Me cousin Reggie’s on a warship,’ piped up Gary, one of the Mellish twins. ‘Reckon our navy’ll give Jerry hell!’
Mrs Howard nodded, but her placid face was worried. ‘We’ll say prayers for your cousin, Gary, just as we will for every soul in combat.’ She clasped her fingers and bowed her head.
Daisy did the same. No one was giggling or making fun. They all understood how desperate the situation was. Only last night on the wireless, it was said that a miracle was needed to save the lives of the Allied troops stranded on the coast of France.
Chapter 35
Daisy and Bobby were allowed to stay home from school on the day Matt started his twenty-four hour leave. Mother baked cakes and Amelia arrived early in order to help with preparations. Daisy thought how young she looked with her coppery brown waves flowing loose across her shoulders, framing her pale face and deep green eyes. She wore a simple white blouse and navy skirt, which Daisy thought made her look very pretty.
‘We’ll have lunch,’ Mother said as they laid the table with Miss Ayling’s best silverware, china and neatly starched napkins. ‘But afterwards, you and Matt must see your parents and then enjoy an evening together.’
‘We want to walk to Island Gardens,’ said Amelia simply. ‘And sit and talk.’
‘Don’t you want to go to the pictures or something?’ Daisy couldn’t imagine the park would prove the least bit exciting.
Amelia blushed. ‘You’ll understand when you get older.’
‘Daisy,’ said Mother sternly, ‘you have the knives the wrong way round.’
When the knock at the door came, everyone rushed at once to open it.
Matt stood on the doorstep and everyone pounced on him. Daisy thought how handsome he looked in his blue cadet’s uniform with a side cap perched on his blond hair cut very short at the sides. A little badge was pinned to the cap cloth, with the initials ADCC under the wings motif.
Matt abandoned his kit bag, scooped off his cap and one by one hauled them into his arms. But Daisy saw that his eyes searched for Amelia who stood back, her hands folded nervously together.
They were left alone in the hall to embrace and Daisy followed Mother to the kitchen while Pops and Bobby studied the newspaper in the living room.
When everyone was together, Matt told them a little about his life at camp. ‘We aren’t allowed to give away specific details,’ he said apologetically as he sat on the couch hand in hand with Amelia. ‘But I can tell you that my duties at first, included everything but flying.’ He gave a deep chuckle, his voice low and confident. ‘We’ve endured hours doing paperwork and clerical stuff,’ he continued, ‘which reminded me just why I want to be airborne.’
‘But that’s rotten,’ protested Bobby, looking disappointed. ‘You won’t have to write stuff when you’re flying a plane!’
‘You’d be surprised, little brother. Records have to be kept and an enormous amount of data is sent up to HQ. But it certainly made me realise that life between four walls is certainly not for me.’ He glanced quickly at Amelia. ‘I mean, darling, the four walls of a home is quite different to an office.’
Daisy saw Amelia nod, though she did look a little put out.
‘What else did you do?’ Bobby asked eagerly, perched on the edge of his seat.
‘We filled hundreds of sandbags and sorted out stores and equipment next.’
Bobby looked disheartened. ‘That doesn’t sound very exciting.’
Mother held up her hand. ‘Bobby, your brother is trying to give us an account of his life at camp and he can’t get on with it, if you keep interrupting.’
‘It wasn’t very glamorous at first,’ grinned Matt giving Bobby a wink. ‘But then, the discipline you’ve learned on the ground, is the same as you have to learn in the air. When things go wrong, you can’t panic. You just have to get on with it.’ Matt chuckled again. ‘It was in spring, when we started handling the aircraft and lending a bit of muscle to the squadrons, that things got interesting.’
Daisy watched as her brother’s eyes, far from being alert, seemed to look into the distance as though he had returned to the place he loved most. ‘Our chaps had to fly against the Luftwaffe’s fastest and most experienced pilots. We knew we were at a disadvantage in numbers and probably in experience. But our squadron commander reckons that Spits are the best in the world for manoeuvrability.’ Matt paused, his teeth for one second catching his bottom lip. ‘There’s a golden rule, you see. Never fly straight or level for any length of time. You’ve got to weave in and out, avoid colliding with your number one or two and the best bit of advice I heard; keep on your leader’s tale. Don’t lose him.’
The room was silent and Daisy knew that Matt was up in the air, fighting the Luftwaffe already, even though he had yet to be sent on a mission. It seemed that this, even more than his marriage to Amelia, was what he was meant for. As Daisy turned her gaze towards Amelia, she could see at a glance that she had recognised this too. Her pale face was full of love and longing, but also of a new and desperate acceptance that Matt would never be fulfilled until he had tasted battle.
‘Son, you make us proud,’ said Pops in a gravel voice. ‘But take care.’
Suddenly, Matt returned to the present. ‘Don’t worry, Pops, I’m not in action yet.’
‘But you will be,’ said Mums softly. ‘Do you know how soon?’
Matt shook his head. ‘I’ve already said more than I should, Mother. But let me assure you we have the finest fliers out there. You should know that no matter what happens, the RAF will run rings around Jerry.’
Daisy saw tears fill Mother’s eyes as she quickly stood up. ‘I think it’s time for lunch, don’t you? Daisy, I’d like your help in the kitchen.’
As Daisy followed her mother out of the room, the conversation turned again to Matt’s training. So she was not surprised when Amelia joined them, eager to find a space where she could hide her emotions knowing the danger that Matt was in.
Chapter 36
It was the beginning of June when Daisy stood at her window and saw the first of the Little Ships leave London. Fishing boats, pleasure boats, launches, tugs and yachts, armies of water-borne ants heading towards the open sea.
Pops had explained that Churchill’s plan to rescue the troops in France was imminent. Therefore, everyone who was able had been encouraged to stand on the dock wharfs and wave off the rescuers. Children had been given leave from school. Factory workers, labourers, shop assistants, lorry drivers and just about all of London crowded the dock walls.
‘Are you ready?’ Bobby called from downstairs. ‘We’re waiting.’
‘Coming,’ she called back, grabbing her homemade flag.
Together with the family, Daisy made her way to the factory where all the staff had gathered. She spotted Mrs Hayes at once, perched on an upturned crate clutching her battered old handbag. ’Hello, luv,’ Mrs Hayes greeted. ‘Me legs have swelled up like balloons, so I’m resting on me bum for a bit. ’
Daisy sat beside the tea lady as the many hooters, horns, bells and whistles hailed the outgoing craft.
‘Poor buggers are risking their boats as well as their lives,’ Mrs Hayes said with a tear in her eye. ‘But it’s what everyone supposed to do in wartime. Look after others first instead of number one.’ She heaved a big sigh. ‘Me neighbour’s out there. Fred Kennedy. Old boy of sixty he is, fisherman all his life. Sailing up to Ramsgate to meet with all the other Little Ships. He refused to bear the cross of others’ judgements - that at his age he was of no use to his countrymen. So yesterday he tidied up his house, locked his front door and knocked on mine.’ Mrs Hayes shuddered at the memory. “Goodbye, ducks,” he told me. “Be away for a day or two, I expect.” Just as if he was taking out
his boat like he did every morning ten years before.’
Daisy felt sad for her friend who had always seemed so strong, with firm opinions that often set her apart from others. But now she looked a bent and frail old lady, the warrior inside her, gone.
‘Mrs Howard, our teacher, said the British are trapped in a pincer movement,’ Daisy attempted, trying to recapture the spirit of when Mrs Hayes had an answer for almost anything and was glad to give it. ‘What’s a pincer?’
‘A death grip on our blokes, ducks,’ replied Mrs Hayes, without taking her eyes from the river. ‘That’s what it is. Can’t go back ‘cos of Jerry. Can’t go forward ‘cos our warships are too big to get close to shore. The sea’s the only place left to retreat. Die drowning or die with a bullet in your brain. Ain’t much of a choice, is it?’
Daisy shivered. This too, was terrible to dwell on. Yet all the people around had family or friends or knew of a distant relative who at this very minute were struggling to survive those cold and unforgiving beaches at Dunkirk. She looked about her, at the familiar faces of the people who worked in the factory; the women who stood in their turbans and grey overalls and the few men who were left behind, bearing the cross that Mrs Hayes had talked about.
‘Do you think Micky Wolf is in France?’
The tea lady lowered her voice. ‘Not him ducks. He did the proverbial vanishing act soon as his call-up came. Here one day, gone the next. You were away at your gran’s at the time. It was the talk of all the factory. Micky was a coward at heart. But as for our Joe …’ Mrs Hayes lifted an eyebrow. ’Appearances can be deceiving as I once told you. Joe offered his services to the country immediately. Would have taken on Hitler single handedly if given a chance. But of course, time has caught up with him and he’s had to stay at the factory.’
‘Joe must be very brave.’
‘He’s a good man, Daisy. A bit old and weathered but he’s loyal to his wife and country. Not like the Micky Wolfs of this world, all mouth and trousers and after the women. Or, like him over there - that bugger hiding in the shadows - I spotted him a while ago!’
Daisy turned to see Uncle Ed and Aunt Betty, Mother, Pops and Bobby, standing with Amelia. Unobserved - and a few yards behind the family group - stood a tall figure.
Daisy took a sharp breath.
‘Failed the medical for conscription,’ whispered Mrs Hayes scornfully. ‘Colour blind, apparently. Didn’t know his greens from his blues.’
Just then, a London lifeboat sailed its lonely way midstream, a Union Jack hoisted above the deck. A loud cheer went up and Mrs Hayes reached out.
‘Give us your arm, ducks. I want to stand up and add me own salute to the city’s lads.’
After helping Mrs Hayes to her feet, they moved closer to the water’s edge to get a better view of the breathtaking sight. But no matter how hard she tried, Daisy couldn’t stop thinking about the man standing only a few feet away.
When she looked again, Mr Calder was gone.
Chapter 37
Daisy was bursting to ask Bobby if he’d seen Mr Calder at the factory, but there was no opportunity until they went to bed. ’Did you see who was at the wharf today?’ Daisy said as they paused on the landing.
‘About a thousand people,’ Bobby shrugged. ‘Why?’
‘I saw him.’
‘Who’s him?’
Daisy looked behind her. ‘Mr Calder of course.’
Bobby shrugged. ‘So what!’
‘He was sort of - hidden in the shadows. As if he was spying on Aunt Betty.’
Bobby rolled his eyes. ‘Another Daisy drama. I thought you’d grown out of that.’
‘Ask Mrs Hayes. She saw him too.’
‘I’m not asking anyone, least of all the factory gossip.’
Daisy gasped. ‘That’s a dreadful thing to say about Mrs Hayes.’
Bobby had changed since coming back from Wattcombe. He didn’t have time for her any more. When they were at school it was as if he was ashamed to be with his younger sister. He only wanted to play football with the boys or hang about with the older children like Gary and Grace. In Wattcombe they had shared so many adventures, like the day when the Spitfires had flown over and had discovered their old house was in ruins. Living in the country again had somehow brought them closer. But now they were in London and Bobby was back to being a boy again.
That night, she lay in bed and her thoughts went giddily round and round. Then she thought of something she had seen at school. At the time, she had dismissed it, but now it all came back. Grace Mellish had been sitting on one of the broken walls that skirted the waste ground. She had been swinging her feet and her dark hair had come loose from her plaits. It flowed down almost to her waist, which made Daisy think how untidy it looked. But Grace hadn’t seemed to mind as she shook her waves back and laughed, her dark eyes twinkling mischievously.
At the time, Daisy hadn’t thought much about it, but now she recalled the moment distinctly.
Bobby had kicked the football deliberately probably, to where Grace was sitting. The other boys were urging him to hurry, but that hadn’t bothered her brother.
He only had eyes for Grace.
Before taking the register, Mrs Howard stood before the class. Her sombre expression told Daisy that she had something very important to say.
‘Our Little Ships are at this moment evacuating the Allied forces from the beaches of Dunkirk,’ she announced solemnly. ‘We understand that some have been successful. But others are still labouring against phenomenal odds.’
‘We’ll win, though, won’t we, Miss?’ called a boy who sat by Bobby.
‘ ‘Course we’ll win,’ shouted Jimmy Burns. ‘Just like Charlie Chaplin did when he captured the Kaiser.’
‘That ain’t real,’ argued his friend. ‘It’s just a story.’
Mrs Howard held up her hands for silence. ‘But stories are relevant, children, to our own lives. Every man who survives the fighting will have a story to tell. But not necessarily with a happy ending as you see on the pictures, Jimmy. Many men have been lost to a barrage of gunfire. Others have been drowned or died in the wreckage of their planes. But there will be survivors - and they will need your help and support on their return. Prepare yourselves, class. Be strong. And pray that never again will the world see such violent waste of life.’
Daisy saw that the impact of Mrs Howard’s words had touched everyone. Why had she been thinking so unfairly of Bobby?
For if Bobby was a little older, he might have been a soldier who died in the sea under a hail of bullets. Or, if Matt had his wings, a pilot who never returned.
None of those terrible things had happened to her family. Bobby and Matt were both safe, at least for now.
Chapter 38
A bright August sunshine stole through the curtains as Daisy woke to the sound of raised voices. Suddenly the door burst open and Bobby appeared. Already dressed in his white shirt and grey shorts, his cheeks were flushed with excitement.
‘Tilbury and Purfleet have been attacked,’ he said breathlessly. ‘I’m going out in the garden to see if I can see our Spits.’ With that, he disappeared, leaving Daisy to put on her dress and quickly brush her hair. Halfway down the stairs, she heard Mother’s voice again.
‘You must telephone, Lincolnshire, Nicky. If Matt is flying I want to know.’
‘I’m sure he’s still grounded,’ replied Pops. ‘You mustn’t worry.’
‘But I am worried,’ Mother argued. ‘Our son may be - ’
The conversation stopped as Daisy entered the living room. ‘What’s happened? Is it true what Bobby said? Is Hitler here?’
‘Calm down,’ said Pops. ‘We’re quite safe.’
Just then there was a knock at the front door. When Daisy opened it, she was surprised to find Amelia standing there, looking as though she hadn’t had a wink of sleep all night.
‘Have you heard from Matt?’ Amelia gasped and not waiting for an answer, rushed past Daisy to the living room. ‘Mrs Purbri
ght, is there any news?’
Daisy watched Mother take Amelia’s hands and guide her to the couch. They sat down together and Mother shook her head. ‘Nicky is going to phone from the factory. I … I’m sure Matt isn’t on flying duties yet.’
‘But there’s aircraft overhead,’ protested Amelia. ‘Smoke is coming from the estuary by Tilbury and Purfleet.’
Pops gently patted her back. ‘There, there. We mustn’t jump to conclusions. I’ll go now and phone the airbase.’
A little while after he’d gone, Bobby rushed in. ‘Postie gave me this letter for Pops,’ he said, handing it to Mother, who propped it on the mantel.
‘Did Postie say anything about the bombing?’ asked Amelia urgently.
‘He reckons he saw a plane go down.’
Amelia started. ‘Was it one of ours?’
Mother wiped a tear from her eye. ‘That’s enough now, Bobby. We must wait until Pops gets back with accurate news.’
So this is what war feels like, Daisy thought as she watched Amelia and Mother hug each other. Hitler had sent his planes to bomb Britain and no one knew quite what to do or say.
When Pops returned with the news that Matt was still not on operational duties, there were sighs of relief. But everyone suspected this wouldn’t last for long.
Each day Daisy and Bobby watched from the garden as the Spitfires and Hurricanes flew south towards the coast. Since everyone was living in a state of emergency, the schools had closed. Even Daisy’s eleventh birthday passed without a party because of the intense rationing.
One evening in late August, the newly appointed prime minister, Winston Churchill, addressed the country. “Never in the field of human conflict,’ he broadcast when speaking of Britain’s young airmen, “was so much owed by so many to so few.”
This brought a sob from Amelia as the announcer continued.
