Kitty's War

by Barbara Whitaker

  Sammy reached her side, but instead of looking up at the crumbling walls, he took in the view from the hilltop.

  Kitty turned around to see what those imaginary watchmen would have seen. The sight took her breath. Spread out before her were fields of different shapes and shades, like a patchwork quilt with no apparent design. Roads became mere lines dividing the shapes, interrupted by an occasional roof or cluster of trees.

  Her attention returned to the wall, unable to resist the feel of the rough, hand-cut stones, stones that stood here before her ancestors came to America, before Ellingham Castle was built. The history of England lay beneath her fingertips, tangible history that didn’t come from books. Touching these stones made all the stories of castles and knights of long ago real.

  Kitty’s gaze roamed upward. “How high do you think it is? Twenty feet?” She wondered what she could see if she climbed to the top. Could she see as far as the channel?

  “I don’t know,” he replied, clearly tired from the steep climb. He found a spot to sit, leaning against the wall, where he could survey the surrounding countryside.

  “Why don’t you sit there and rest while I explore?”

  He nodded. “I think I will.” He pulled a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his pocket. “Too bad we didn’t think to bring something to drink.” He held out the pack to offer her one.

  “No. But you go ahead.”

  Amiably, he lit a cigarette and waved her to go on and explore.

  Satisfied to leave him behind, curiosity spurred her through the undergrowth partially blocking the old gateway. Instead of an open area, or bailey, inside the wall, she found a jumble of stones with bushes and trees growing up through them.

  In her mind she could see the lord’s stonemasons removing stones to use as building material for his new castle. Local farmers would have scavenged for foundation stones for their homes and barns. Archeology and the preservation of history would have been far from their minds. This site probably provided much of the building materials for the surrounding area.

  Kitty searched for a way to climb up to the highest remaining portion of the wall. She finally managed to pick her way from stone to stone until she stood near the top of the old ramparts. Straining her eyes, she searched the horizon for the English Channel she knew lay only a few miles to the east, but a haze obscured her view.

  The panorama before her was magnificent. Far to the right, tiny, moving specks caught her eye. She guessed they were planes, bombers returning from their flights over Europe. The present intruded on the past with its subtle reminder of the violence so far away and yet so close.

  The stone wobbled beneath her feet. She looked down and, for a second, envisioned herself falling from the unsteady precipice. In the blink of an eye, her beautiful day could end in tragedy. Cautiously she balanced herself and step by step retraced the route she had taken to reach the summit.

  Once on the ground she relaxed. The momentary danger behind her, she smiled at her own foolishness. Milton would have taken her to task for climbing the wall. Of course, he would have led the way, telling her to remain behind where it was safe.

  She ventured back through the gateway where Sammy waited.

  He was content to sit and enjoy the view. She sank down beside her companion and leaned back against the aged stones to rest and absorb the sunshine.

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” He smiled and leaned toward her. For a moment she wondered if he would try to kiss her. He’d been a perfect gentleman, so far. But she’d learned that men could change very quickly.

  She nodded and looked away, unsure what she wanted.

  “Thanks for bringing me along.”

  “You’re welcome. It hasn’t been too much for you, has it?”

  “No. It’s good for me to get out and walk.”

  “Are you looking forward to seeing your friends when you get back to your base?”

  He nodded, thoughtfully. “I guess.”

  With his non-committal answer, she decided to drop the subject. She pulled her knees up and rested her chin on them. Perhaps silence was safer than trying to talk.

  She gazed out over the idyllic setting and made a conscious effort to preserve the moment in her memory. The fresh, clean country air filled her lungs. In the trees, leaves danced in the gentle breeze. Birds twittered among the branches. Scattered through the pasture below her, wild flowers raised their colorful faces to the sun. Sheep munched the plentiful grass. All was right with the world.

  Something rumbled behind them. A dark gray, almost purple sky closed in from the north.

  Sammy pushed himself to his feet. “Time to go,” he announced, as if she didn’t know what they had to do.

  She followed him back down the winding, narrow lane.

  The wind whipped around them, much cooler than moments before. They picked up their pace and made their way around the giant oak before the first raindrop hit them.

  Kitty looked up. Fat splats of liquid fell all around them. One landed on her arm. Another hit her cheek. They pelted her back and shoulders.

  When they reached the road, she and Sammy exchanged a quick glance. He nodded and called to her, “Let’s go.”

  They broke into a jog along the wet pavement.

  How far was it back to the village? She tried to remember. It had seemed such a short distance when they started.

  Water splashed into her shoes. Her skirt clung to her legs. The rain soon soaked through her uniform jacket. The dampness reached her arms and shoulders.

  The blowing rain came down at an angle. Sammy turned up the collar of his uniform jacket and held it together at the neck. His crusher cap provided little protection.

  When they rounded a curve in the road, the rain hit them smack in the face. Kitty put her hand up to shield her eyes. Water seeped down her collar. Her hair, weighed down with dampness, pulled free from its pins, and stray curls turned into wild tangles.

  Finally houses appeared in the mist, and the road brought them into town. A short way up the street, the Blue Ram’s sign swayed in the blowing rain. They made a final dash for what she prayed would be a warm, dry haven.

  Chapter Nine

  A chilly, damp wind blew in through the open door. Heads turned. A drenched WAC stumbled through the doorway followed by an equally drowned airman. Both shivered, dripping water on the floor.

  “Kitty!” Madge jumped up and ran to the soaked female.

  Ted covered his mouth to hide his grin. They both looked ridiculous. Served them right. The silly girl had traipsed off with Newman in tow to explore the countryside totally unprepared for the English weather.

  When the rain started, Madge had gotten worried about her friend and despite his best efforts, he hadn’t been able to distract her. Why did women have to stick together? Kitty ought to be able to take care of herself. After all, she was a WAC, and WACs were supposed to be trained to survive in all kinds of situations. If they couldn’t handle a little rain, how would they handle an air raid?

  Madge steered her friend and the damp soldier toward the fireplace.

  “Build up that fire.” Madge barked the order and looked directly at him.

  Ted nodded and jumped up, thankful to have something to do so he wouldn’t say something smart and make Madge mad.

  “Oh, you poor dears.” The proprietress rushed to their aid with towels in her arms. “Edwin, bring hot toddy’s for them. Hurry now.”

  The waiter turned and hurried back to the bar.

  Ted squatted before the flames and carefully placed two additional logs on the smoldering fire. He glanced over his shoulder and saw the shaking girl standing nearby. Madge fiddled with her hair, pulled out pins and rubbed a towel over the girl’s wet head.

  He returned his attention to the task at hand. He grabbed a poker and stirred the flames to life.

  Newman pulled off his coat and hung it on a chair then stood near the fire trying to warm himself.

  Ted looked up and the quick glance t
hey exchanged told him his friend would survive.

  The proprietress reappeared with two blankets. She draped one around the girl’s shoulders. “Here you go, deary. This’ll warm you up.”

  She handed the other to the American airman.

  Aware of all the fuss around him, Ted focused his attention on the fire. He poked at it some more, just to have something to do.

  “Thank you,” Kitty murmured.

  He looked up again. She stood close, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, her hair loose, damp and curly, forming a sort of halo around her head.

  The angel hovered over him. The surf roared in his ears. The sun burned his skin. She told him he was safe.

  His throat tightened. Startled at his reaction, he choked back his thundering emotions.

  Was she real? He blinked as if he could make the vision disappear. But she remained, standing over him, a knowing smile in her eyes. He wanted to reach out, to touch her, to see if she was flesh and blood. Instinctively he raised his hand and, to his dismay, she grasped it. Her icy cold fingers almost made him shiver, not from the temperature, from the thrill of recognition.

  Her sensuous lips curved up slightly. Her soft, gray, reassuring eyes caressed him. She knew. She’d always known.

  A chair scraped sharply across the floor and jerked him back to reality. He released her hand as Madge spoke.

  “Sit here and get warm.”

  He sensed Madge’s eyes on him, but he couldn’t meet her gaze.

  “Ted’s got the fire going for you.” Madge hovered over her friend.

  He stood, rubbed his sweating palms against his pants, and eased away. His jaw tightened. He couldn’t look at either of them, not till he figured out what just happened.

  He needed a drink. Something strong. His gaze roamed the room. Every eye in the place was focused on the two wet figures by the fire. The waiter emerged from behind the bar with two drinks on a tray and hurried over to the damp damsel. She took one of the glasses, and Newman grabbed the other one.

  “This’ll warm you up,” the waiter assured them.

  Ted followed the man back to the bar. “Give me a shot of whiskey, straight.”

  He ignored the man’s wary look, watched him place a glass on the bar, and fill it. With one swift motion, Ted downed the fiery liquid.

  “Again,” he demanded, rubbing his fingers over his lips.

  With his courage fortified, he glanced back at the girl by the fire. The flickering light turned the edges of her wild hair into a halo like the bright sunlight had done on that day so long ago. His body tensed, his hands fisted. He turned back, grabbed the shot glass, and brought it to his lips. Again, he swallowed it in one quick gulp, then he closed his eyes and waited for the warm glow to settle over him.

  Why? He’d met Kitty several times. And felt nothing. Well, not exactly nothing, but a vague attraction. He’d dismissed it as the same thing he felt every time he met a woman who was the least bit pretty or interesting or well built. So what. He liked women. But this one had been stand-off-ish. He’d accepted her attitude because he’d been much more interested in Madge. And who wouldn’t be. Blonde, built, and friendly. Madge was definitely his type. Kitty had been just…just there, in the background. Until today.

  “Give me another one.”

  He relaxed a little against the bar. The alcohol was doing its work. With his newly acquired courage, he turned to face the room.

  He studied his three companions. Madge had pulled up another chair and sat facing her friend. They were talking. Or rather Madge was talking. Kitty sat with her hands extended to the fire. The blanket had slipped down exposing one shoulder. She turned her head toward him, and their gazes met.

  The connection between them hummed, like an electrical current flashing across the room. She knew him, and she knew that he knew her. It had only taken an instant.

  That lost, young guy welled up inside him again. The guy who’d been saved by an angel. The dream of a lost soul, crazy from an eternity floating alone on the ocean, who’d prayed to a God he barely believed in, and yet, who’d sent an angel to save him. He’d convinced himself she had been all in his head, that he had imagined her. Now he knew different. She had been real.

  But what could he do about it? Ask her? How would he explain to Madge?

  “There’s your drink. Don’t you want it?”

  He turned back. “Sure.” He fished a few coins out of his pocket and placed them on the bar. Then he picked up the glass and eased back to the table where he and Madge had been sitting before the sodden explorers appeared.

  Madge patted Kitty on the knee, then rose and came over to him.

  “She’s soaked to the skin. If we don’t get her out of those wet clothes, she’ll catch pneumonia.”

  “What can I do? I don’t have any extra clothes for her.”

  “Can you call someone? Get us a ride back to the base?”

  “I don’t know. I guess I can try.” The strong drink made his mind sluggish and a little reluctant to do her bidding.

  “Well, see what you can do.” She flashed him one of her brilliant smiles, patted him on the shoulder, then returned to her friend by the fire.

  He sipped his drink, absorbing its warm glow. His gaze roamed the establishment for a telephone. The proprietress appeared behind the bar. He took another sip, rose, and approached the English woman.

  ****

  Ted held the umbrella as Madge helped Kitty across the street to the waiting truck. Kitty still had the blanket wrapped around her, but it wasn’t enough to ward off the chills. She couldn’t remember ever being this cold. Not even when she had tagged along with Milton to play in the snow when she was ten. They’d sledded down every hill, built a snowman in the yard, and battled the neighborhood boys with snowballs. She’d been so excited that the cold had not fazed her. But now, wet from head to toe, her body ached from the lack of heat.

  Her feet were so numb she struggled to walk. Even though she didn’t want to, she allowed Ted to help her up into the truck. He was strong and warm. And he knew. She’d seen it in his face, the recognition, the bewilderment. The same look he’d had that day when she’d first gazed into that handsome face.

  The thoughts caused her head to throb. She wanted to cry. To run and hide and pretend none of it had ever happened. But it had. She’d made a complete fool of herself. Getting drenched in the rain, then Ted recognizing her, the drowned rat.

  Is that what she’d looked like that day on the beach? The thought hadn’t occurred to her before, what she must have looked like. Wet, soaked to the skin from being in the water. Her wet hair blown into an unruly mass by the wind.

  She hated her hair. Hated the curls that wormed their way out of the pins. She wished she could cut it off like men did. But no, girls didn’t do that. Especially not nice girls. So she’d worn it in braids, pulled it back in tight buns, rolled it into a victory do like Veronica Lake. But that spring by the sea she’d let it loose, let herself be free from the ordeal of her hair. Suzanne had objected, sounding just like their mother, but Kitty’s stubbornness had won out.

  The truck bumped along the rutted road leading to the base. Madge scooted closer, and her body heat gave Kitty a measure of relief from the chill.

  “You okay?” Madge asked.

  Kitty could only nod and sniff. She raised the handkerchief to her nose and dabbed at the liquid running out onto her lip. She hadn’t had a cold in ages. “Healthy as a horse” her father had called her. Another comparison to her maternal grandmother who he disliked intensely. She’d never understood why he didn’t get along with his mother-in-law. She was a strong, hardworking woman who’d raised three daughters practically alone.

  Thankfully, Ted sat on the opposite side of the truck bed with Sammy. Both stared out at the road behind them. Ted had been quiet, distant even. And Sammy looked like a forlorn puppy caught in a downpour. Kitty knew he’d never go out with her again. She couldn’t blame him.

  The truck stopped une
xpectedly. Ted half-way stood, bent over so his head wouldn’t hit the canvas top, and looked out.

  Voices came from outside on the road.

  Three soldiers appeared at the back of the truck and clambered aboard.

  “Thank God you came along” one of them exclaimed.

  “Yeah. We’re soaked.”

  Sammy shifted to the girl’s side of the truck and motioned for the three soldiers to take the other side. Ted waited for them to get seated before he took up his post at the entrance.

  One looked up at him, then snapped a salute.

  “Sir, I didn’t realize…”

  Ted returned the man’s salute, then the other two saluted. A sense of unease emanated from the three enlisted men.

  “Relax,” Ted ordered.

  The three sat, eyeing him, and then shifted their gazes to Madge and herself.

  The truck started to move again.

  Kitty held on and tried to avoid looking at the new arrivals.

  Good ol’ Madge tried to break the ice. “You boys been to the village?”

  “Yes ’m,” one muttered. The other two nodded.

  “We didn’t expect it to rain like this,” Madge said brightly. “Looks like you didn’t either.”

  One gave her a wary look. The others shifted in their seats and gazed out the back. Clearly no one wanted to carry on a conversation.

  They reached the gate, and the guard came around to the back of the truck. He saluted Ted and Sammy, then looked the rest over. He disappeared, and the truck started up again. They passed some buildings and other vehicles.

  Soon Kitty saw Nissen huts and knew they had reached the barracks area.

  “Sir, we can get out anywhere along here.”

  “Sit tight,” Ted commanded. “We’re taking the ladies to their quarters first.”

  The man nodded and gave her a questioning look. She stared at the floor, embarrassed at what she must look like.