‘She does. But I don’t want to forget how to cook and bake altogether. Besides, I quite like doing it now and again. I find it restful.’
When Emily’s pie was in the oven and they were both seated, Lizzie couldn’t put the moment off any longer. She took a deep breath. ‘I just wanted to tell you about seeing Josh again when I went to Riversdale.’ She paused and expected an outburst from Emily, but none came. She was silent, watching Lizzie’s face and waiting for her to explain.
‘I – I realized that I no longer think I’m in love with him, Emily. It was a girlish infatuation. I see that now. Do you remember that film that was all the rage not long after the war started? Everyone was talking about it.’
‘Oh, I remember. Gone with the Wind, you mean?’
Lizzie nodded. ‘Do you remember Scarlett’s passion for Ashley Wilkes and how it blinded her to the man she should have loved? Rhett?’
Emily nodded.
‘Well, that was me. I was infatuated with Josh and, if at the beginning he’d liked me too, then I think we might have ended up together, but he was always in love with Amy, wasn’t he? Just like Ashley Wilkes was always in love with Melanie.’
‘My word, you have remembered the story and the names,’ Emily laughed.
But Lizzie was very serious. ‘I didn’t get to see the film – I wish I had – but I was so intrigued by what the girls were saying at work – always quoting what Rhett Butler said as he left her at the end of the film – that I got the book and read it. In fact, I read it twice. Well, I’m luckier than Scarlett. The man I should love isn’t going to walk away from me like Rhett did at the end of the book. Billy does give a “damn” about me – a lot more than a “damn” – and now I know that I love him. Oh Emily, if only he comes home safely, I vow I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it to him.’
Emily covered Lizzie’s hand with her own. ‘He will, I’m sure of it. And I’m so glad you told me all this. Thank you, Lizzie. It can’t have been easy for you.’
As 1944 dawned, a feeling of optimism pervaded the country. It was as if something very exciting, though very hush-hush, was going to happen.
‘I think they’re preparing to get a foothold back in Europe,’ said Trip, who not only read all the newspapers avidly and listened to the wireless every night, but was also adept at ‘reading between the lines’. He seemed to have an uncanny feel for what was happening.
‘Mm,’ Emily said, her head bent over her mending, her mind not really concentrating on what Trip was saying.
He switched off the wireless, put down his paper and leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. ‘Come on, Emily Trippet. Out with it.’
She looked up, a pensive smile on her mouth. ‘Out with what?’
‘I know you too well, my darling. Something’s bothering you. Tell me what it is. Maybe I can help.’
She lay down her sewing on her lap and her voice trembled a little as she said, ‘Lewis will be eighteen in May. I know we persuaded him to stay on into the sixth form at school with the hope that he might go to university . . . we really thought the war would be over by now, didn’t we?’
‘We certainly hoped it would be, yes.’
‘If he does well and applies to go to university and is accepted, do you think his call up would be deferred?’
‘I really can’t say, but even if it was, I wouldn’t be surprised at him wanting to volunteer.’
Emily stared at him, then she sighed and said flatly, ‘I thought that too. What about Philip? He’s still working on the land, so he should be all right, shouldn’t he? I couldn’t bear it if Josh and Amy had another son to worry about.’
‘He’s worked on the land since he was fourteen, so, yes, I think he’ll be in a reserved occupation.’
‘Thank goodness for that. But what about Lewis?’
Trip’s face was solemn. That was a question he could not answer.
‘Hartley – Hartley, ah, there you are.’
The CO, Nigel Price, came in through the office doorway like a whirlwind. Michael Hartley stood up from putting another log on the fire in the outer office where he had his desk and did all the paperwork for the station’s CO.
‘Word’s just come through that Harry Ryan is alive. He’s a prisoner of war. I don’t know why on earth we haven’t heard before this, but never mind. I want you to write a letter to his family immediately. It isn’t often we can send such good news. Type it up and I will sign it.’
When Price had disappeared into his office, Michael, grim faced, inserted a sheet of paper and began to type. He wrote the bare minimum of words and, when he handed it across Price’s desk for signature, his superior said, ‘That’s a bit bald, Hartley. Show a little more enthusiasm for the fact that he’s survived. It’ll mean the world to his family.’
Tight-lipped, Hartley retyped the letter. ‘That’s better.’ Price smiled and signed it with a flourish. ‘See that it catches today’s post, will you? And now I must be on my way. A big meeting at Area HQ. I’ve no idea what time I’ll be back – probably not until tomorrow.’
As Hartley listened for the engine of the CO’s car to start up and move away from its parking bay beneath the office window, he smiled grimly to himself. He rose from his chair, crossed the room towards the fire that was burning brightly now and tossed the letter, which he had just written and which Price had signed, into the flames.
‘I’ll be damned if I let them know he’s safe,’ he muttered. ‘Let them suffer.’
Lewis was called up in the summer of 1944, when the country was in a state of high excitement after the victories of the D-Day landings. In a combined effort of American and British forces, troops had landed on the beaches of Normandy and had begun to drive the enemy back. But the celebrations were tempered by the V-1 flying bombs being unleashed on London and the South of England.
‘Those poor folks. As if they haven’t been through enough at the start of the war. And where else will they send them – the bombs, I mean?’
‘I think their range might only reach to the south,’ Trip said, scouring the paper for news. But a shroud of secrecy surrounded the new weapons and the newspapers were not allowed to reveal the exact locations where the bombs had fallen.
‘They are saying that anti-aircraft guns are virtually useless against them, and the RAF are trying to find new methods of interception.’
‘I expect Harry would have been—’ Emily began and then stopped as thoughts of her nephew threatened to choke her.
‘I know, love,’ Trip said solemnly.
‘And where is Lewis? I know he’s still training, but will he be sent down there or – or across the Channel? I’m glad he went into the army and not the RAF, but he could still be in danger, couldn’t he?’
Trip nodded and folded his newspaper. ‘I see they’re evacuating children from London again with these wretched doodlebugs, as they’re being called.’
Emily sighed. ‘I’d offer to have some of them here, but Sheffield might not be much safer.’
‘Tell you what. Let’s go to the pictures tonight. Get our mind off things.’
Emily pulled a face then smiled. ‘All right. It’ll be fine – until the newsreels come on!’
Although the Allies were back on French soil, there was still a long way to go. The Russians advanced on Poland and by August, the French regained Paris. But the bitter fighting continued and whilst the Nazis were being driven back, there was still fierce resistance and it wasn’t until March the following year that the Allies finally crossed the Rhine and only at the end of April, when Mussolini was shot and Hitler committed suicide, that people could really begin to believe that the war might soon be over.
‘But there’ll be someone to take his place, won’t there?’ Emily asked worriedly.
‘I expect so, but with him gone, maybe they’ll come to their senses,’ Trip said. He was far more optimistic now. With the many allied victories, he could see the Third Reich crumbling and the picture of the Russians and Americans meeting u
p in Berlin seemed to herald the end.
‘There’s one good thing,’ Emily said, her mind, as always, on those close to her, ‘Lewis is still in this country. Maybe it’ll all be over before he has to go abroad.’
And though she didn’t voice it aloud, her thoughts, as they always did, turned to her brother and the rest of the family in Ashford. Perhaps, once it was all over, they might find out what had happened to Harry. At least it would be a comfort to know.
Soon, Emily hoped, the war would be over and they could all begin to rebuild their lives. There had been more bombing raids, but none so severe as the Sheffield Blitz, as it came to be known, of December 1940. That industry had not been more severely damaged was a miracle to all those who lived and worked in the city.
Fifty-Nine
The back door to the smithy flew open and Lucy called out even before she’d stepped over the threshold.
‘Aunty Amy – Aunty Amy!’ When she’d first got to know the Ryans as a young girl, they’d been Lucy’s ‘adopted’ aunty and uncle. Her nurse’s cap was awry, her hair flying free, her eyes wide. ‘He’s come back. He’s here. He’s home.’
‘Lucy! Whatever’s the matter? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.’ Amy guided the girl to a chair. The usually composed and utterly professional nurse was laughing and crying at the same time. She flopped into the chair near the range opposite to where Bob now spent most of his time. Though his brain was sharp and active, his back caused him a lot of pain. ‘Too much bending and wielding a heavy hammer,’ he would say wryly. ‘But I’m luckier than a lot of folks,’ he would always add, casting a fond glance at Amy.
‘I thought I had, Aunty Amy. But it’s no ghost. It’s him all right.’
For a moment, Amy stared at her and then she whispered, ‘Harry!’
Lucy sat forward, looked up into Amy’s face, grasped both her hands and said, ‘Yes, he’s alive. He’s here at Riversdale. You must come and see him right away.’
The colour drained from Amy’s face and she might have fainted if Lucy hadn’t jumped to her feet and steered Amy to the seat she’d just vacated.
‘I knew it all along. I knew he wasn’t dead,’ Amy murmured and closed her eyes in thankfulness. But then they flew open again as she asked hesitantly, almost afraid to hear the answer, ‘Is he – is he – all right?’
‘He is now, but –’ Lucy sat down on a low stool at Amy’s feet and took her hand, chafing it to bring back the warmth – ‘his leg was broken when he bailed out.’
‘Was he captured?’ Bob asked, his voice husky. He could hardly take in the wonderful news. He’d not had Amy’s faith.
‘Yes. He was in a prisoner-of-war camp for quite a while. He said he was medically well looked after, though, and when he was better, he tried two attempts to escape, both of which failed. So he was transferred from camp to camp, each time the security getting tighter and tighter. But then he tried again and succeeded. He was picked up by the French Resistance and sent down their escape route. And so, here he is in our very own convalescent home. That’s all I know. I wanted to come to tell you straightaway.’
‘Why didn’t he come here?’ Amy asked.
‘The RAF brought him. He’s very thin and undernourished so he needs nursing care for a while.’
‘I could look after him . . .’ Amy began, anxious to have her son back home.
‘Let Lucy care for him, Amy love,’ Bob said gently. ‘You’ll be able to see him whenever you want, but Harry must obey the RAF’s procedures.’
‘Please let me look after him, Aunty Amy,’ Lucy said softly and Amy could see the girl’s love for Harry in her eyes.
‘Of course you can, my dear, but I’m afraid I shall make a nuisance of myself visiting him.’
The two women hugged each other.
‘Eeh, I don’t know when I felt so happy,’ Bob said, grinning. ‘Wait till I tell Walter and Martha. I’ll go right now. I presume Josh knows already?’
‘Yes, it was Josh who met the three new arrivals at the door and saw that Harry was one of them. He wanted to rush home to tell you all, but he had to see that they were comfortable first. I said I’d come instead. Nurse Adams is looking after them. We didn’t want to keep you in the dark a moment longer than we had to.’
‘When can I see him?’ Amy asked.
‘Now – this minute.’
‘We’ll all come,’ Bob declared, the news giving him a new vigour, ‘though we won’t all go in at once,’ he added quickly.
‘It’ll be all right. He’s up and about. You can see him in the patients’ lounge. We only restrict the number of visitors when it’s necessary either for a patient or others around them. No, you all come. He can’t wait to see you, though he’s mystified as to why you’d not heard that he’s alive. That’s what’s upset him more than anything.’
‘You’re sure he wasn’t badly injured?’
Lucy shook her head. ‘He’ll be fine. Though officially,’ she winked and tapped the side of her nose, ‘it’s going to take him a good while to be fully fit enough to return to duty.’
Amy stared at her for a moment and then made a gurgling sound that was somewhere between laughter and tears.
At last it was all over and VE Day brought celebrations throughout the country. Trip and Emily drove to Ashford to celebrate with both sides of their family and – because Billy was not yet home – they invited Lizzie and Bess to go with them. Riversdale was still busy. Casualties had occurred right up until the fighting had stopped and patients were still filtering through from the hospitals.
‘I think we shall be a convalescent home for a while longer,’ Constance said.
Lucy had scheduled herself to be on duty that day. So many of the other members of staff deserved a day off. She would have Harry all to herself that night when everyone else had gone, for he was still a patient there. He was in no hurry to leave, even though his home was only just down the road.
‘I’ll have to kick you out if we need your bed, though,’ Lucy teased him.
The number of visitors for each patient was relaxed for this day only and Riversdale heaved with patients and their families. Grace and Mrs Froggatt kept everyone supplied with drinks and snacks.
‘You go and celebrate with your family, Martha,’ Elsie Froggatt declared. ‘We can have any old day off.’
And so the Trippets, the Ryans and the Clarks, and Constance and George were all sitting together in the residents’ lounge. Even Nell and Steve were there too. They had come to take Simon home for the first time in six years. In that time, he had grown from a little boy into a young man of fourteen and no one knew – not even Simon himself – how he was going to settle back into life in the city.
‘Billy’s coming home on leave again next week,’ Lizzie said, ‘but he doesn’t know when he’ll get demobbed.’
‘I expect it will be those who’ve served abroad who’ll get first chance.’
‘No, I think it’s more to do with length of service,’ Trip said. ‘Those who went in first will get home first. There’s a chart somewhere that tells everyone on what date they’ll be demobbed.’
‘I’ll tell Billy. Thanks, Trip. I’m so glad everyone’s coming home safely, well, comparatively safely,’ she said, glancing at Harry. ‘We all had a worrying time when you were posted missing. I still don’t understand why your family didn’t hear that you were a POW. Surely, the authorities must have known?’
A voice spoke from the doorway. ‘Can anyone join the party?’
‘Barney! What are you doing here?’ Harry struggled to his feet and slapped the newcomer on the back. ‘This is Barney Lingard,’ he introduced him. ‘My very good friend from camp. How are you?’
‘In the pink, old boy. How about you? And where, might I ask, is the lovely lady who’s going to be Mrs Ryan? I really must meet her.’ He held up his hand in a mock promise. ‘And I promise not to exert my charm on her. She is here, I presume.’
He glanced round at everyone and his eyes alighte
d on Sarah. ‘Ah, is this . . . ?’
‘That’s my sister,’ Harry laughed. ‘So be careful.’
But Barney was not to be denied the chance to flirt. He took Sarah’s hand and kissed it. ‘I am very glad to meet you, Harry’s pretty sister.’
Sarah, always shy, blushed whilst Harry introduced everyone to his friend.
At that moment, Lucy came into the room wheeling a medicine trolley. ‘Sorry, folks, routine still has to go on, even today.’
Barney caught the look that passed between Harry and Lucy. ‘Aha, now I think I have found the future Mrs Ryan, have I not?’ He stepped towards Lucy and would have kissed her hand too, if Lucy hadn’t chuckled and said, ‘And you must be the infamous Barney. I’ve heard all about you.’
Barney grinned. ‘All dreadful, I hope.’
‘Indeed,’ Lucy said, but she was still smiling.
‘So? When’s the big day?’
It seemed as if the whole family was holding its breath.
‘He hasn’t asked me yet.’
Barney glanced at Harry and winked broadly. ‘Harry, you’re slipping. Haven’t you learned anything from your uncle Barney? Well, I won’t embarrass you any further, old boy. But I should get a move on, if I were you. Just as I suspected, she’s a lovely girl. Some old reprobate like me will steal her away from you, if you’re not careful.’
Lucy picked up two pills and a glass of water and moved to Harry’s side. For a moment, they exchanged a long look that everyone could see, before Lucy said, ‘Not a snowball’s chance in hell – old boy.’
Everyone laughed, Barney the loudest of all.
When Lucy had administered the medication to Harry and to the other two patients in the room, she left and Barney sat down beside Sarah. He glanced round at the family. ‘You must have all been so relieved to receive the letter telling you he was a POW.’ For once Barney was quite serious now. ‘It must have been an anxious time for you all.’
There was a moment’s silence until Josh said, ‘We didn’t get a letter. We didn’t know he was alive until he turned up here at Riversdale.’
‘Didn’t hear?’ The ebullient young man was obviously shocked. ‘But we knew at camp months ago. The CO told us when he heard. He’d told old scarface to write to you.’
Daughters of Courage Page 35
