by Carol Rivers
She kissed Lucky’s blond head as she stood in the evening sunlight outside the house. She didn’t want to go in. Spring had arrived. The nightly bombing had ceased after nine long months of continuous raids. A neighbour from down the road, Mrs Baines, and her two children strolled by. They called out hello and Mr Haskins from number ninety-one passed, raising his cap. Groups of young children played hopscotch again.
A young man walked towards her whistling. He was tall and dark, like Vic. As he grew closer she saw it was Ben Shutler, from six doors up.
‘All right, Con?’ he cried, and she smiled.
‘And you, Ben?’
‘Got me call-up at last,’ he said, pausing briefly at the gate. ‘Can’t wait to get going.’
‘Your mum will miss you,’ Connie said sadly.
‘Yeah, but when I come home on leave it’ll be a pat on the back,’ Ben joked as he walked on, ‘instead of a flea in me ear for being a dirty stopout.’
Connie watched him saunter off. Ben had been a handful to his mum and dad and was known as being a bit of spiv by the local residents. But he didn’t lack courage and had been waiting eagerly for his call-up papers. Watching him swagger down the road, Connie’s heart tugged. So many young men sent to war, including her Vic. Oh, when would she see him again?
The evening was quiet and skies remained clear except for the barrage balloons swaying above like huge metallic clouds. The residents of Kettle Street gossiped on doorsteps and the kids dared to stay out longer.
Connie went indoors. The house was empty. She knew that her parents had gone for a walk to Island Gardens. Billy spent his evenings in Taffy’s shed for what he called his fitness instruction. By day he helped Taffy on the roofs. He won more of his fights than he lost and had kept his promise to stay out of trouble. The nights when they were cooped up in the Anderson seemed a long way away.
Much later, when Lucky was asleep, Connie went out into the yard. She sat down on the bench that she and Billy had spent so many hours sitting on in the Blitz. Dad had filled in the hole with the debris from the shelter and laid earth on top. A few brave weeds were working their way up to the light.
A soft wind blew her hair lightly around her shoulders. The smell of the river was back again, unpolluted by the odour of cordite. The evening stretched long and lonely before her. Kevin and Sylvie had asked her to go to the pictures. Mum and Dad would have looked after Lucky, but she didn’t want to play gooseberry. Connie envied Sylvie not having to worry about Kevin going in the forces. His engineering job at the factory making components for radar was a reserved occupation.
If only Vic would come home. She would marry him tomorrow! Not having a big wedding didn’t matter. She just wanted to be his wife. Five months apart had made her realize how much she loved him.
She looked up at the beautiful spring sky now going dusky. The gulls were screeching over clouds tinged with a delicate, rosy hue. It was a true English evening. There was even a blackbird on the soil, digging away with its yellow beak. Connie lifted her face to the warm breeze and sighed.
Suddenly a pair of hands slipped over her eyes. ‘Guess who?’
She couldn’t breathe or speak.
‘Blow me down, that’s the quietest I’ve ever heard my girl.’
Then Connie was in his arms, her heart beating so wildly she was afraid it would burst. Tears of joy trickled down her cheeks and sobs of delight filled her throat.
‘Oh, Vic! Oh, Vic, I don’t believe it.’
‘You’d better.’ He kissed her passionately. ‘There, does that help?’
She nodded. ‘I was thinking of you and you appeared . . .’
‘Oh, sweetheart, I’ve missed you so much!’
She pressed her lips hard against his. ‘Say that again.’
‘I’ve missed you so much—’
‘No.’ She lifted her mouth, whispering softly, ‘just say sweetheart.’
He held her face between his hands. ‘Sweetheart,’ he whispered huskily, ‘my own dear sweetheart.’
She trembled in his arms. ‘I nearly faint when you call me that.’
A twinkle came into his eyes. ‘That’s what all damsels do just before getting saved. They faint into a pair of strong arms and get taken off on horseback.’
She was laughing and wiping away the tears. ‘Oh, just look at your uniform!’ She inspected the slim-fitting dark blue tunic and flared trousers that moulded his body. He looked taller than ever and, yes, a little older, though she couldn’t quite see why. His lovely dark eyes had a new expression that made her feel both proud and sad at the same time.
‘How long have you got?’
‘Till the end of the week.’
‘Is that all?’
‘I’m lucky to have got that.’ He lifted her chin. ‘There’s so much I’ve got to tell you and so much I want to know.’
‘Come inside. Are you hungry?’
‘Not for food.’ He kissed her again and her head swam with joy.
‘Have you seen Gran yet?’ she asked as he took her hand and they walked into the house.
‘No. I came straight here. Where is everyone?’
‘Out, making the most of the quiet. We haven’t had a raid recently, though the last one was terrible. A lot of the city was demolished, even the House of Commons was hit. But with the news about Russia, people are saying it might be the end of the Blitz.’ She pulled him along to the front room. They gazed into Lucky’s cot. ‘Do you think he’s grown?’ she whispered, watching Vic’s face as he gazed at the sleeping child.
‘You know, he looks the spit of you.’
‘Yes, he does,’ Connie admitted, a little embarrassed. ‘Let’s sit down and talk.’
In hushed whispers and holding hands, they tried to catch up on the news. Vic traced the shape of her ring with his finger.
‘Anything about Lucky?’ he asked.
‘No.’ She wasn’t going to mention Gilbert Tucker. She didn’t want to spoil a lovely evening.
‘Let me look at you.’ He took her face between his hands and kissed her long and hard. ‘You’re more beautiful than ever.’
Connie didn’t want the kissing or the loving to stop. Her body cried out for him. She felt as though she had been starved for a year.
‘We’re home!’ Olive’s call made them jump apart. Connie sighed. Whenever would they find time to themselves?
Her parents followed by Kevin and Sylvie tumbled into the room and swept Vic into their warm embrace.
The next day Connie asked Mr Burns if she could take time off. In view of the circumstances, he agreed. When the hooter went at five thirty, she flew down the stairs and hurried towards the gates, Ada running beside her. Vic was waiting in his uniform. All the girls were staring at him. Connie felt very proud.
Ada nudged her arm. ‘What an eyeful he makes, Con.’
‘I can’t believe he’s home.’
‘I’d never have come to work today if it was me.’
‘I didn’t want to let Mr Burns down. He’s very good to let me go at such short notice. And now I’ve got Lucky I need my job.’
‘Hello, Ada.’ Vic bent to kiss her cheek.
‘How’s the navy, Vic?’
He grinned. ‘I’ve got to find a ship first.’
Connie looked up at her handsome fiancé. He was so good looking! She wanted to hug and kiss him all the time.
‘Right, we’d better be off,’ he said, grabbing Connie’s hand. ‘I don’t have the car any more, so it’s Shanks’s pony I’m afraid.’
Ada winked. ‘Enjoy yourselves.’
‘We will.’
They walked hand in hand and Connie felt she could burst with pride. People they passed looked in admiration at the tall young man beside her.
‘What would you like to do?’ he asked as they made their way home. ‘We could push Lucky out in the pram. Don’t think there’s any chance of a raid, do you?’
‘Hope not,’ Connie agreed as she felt the exhilaration flow through her veins. ‘It would b
e nice to be by ourselves.’ She felt her cheeks go pink.
Vic looked down at her, his gaze intense. ‘I was hoping you’d say that.’
‘I could ask Mum and Dad to babysit.’
He nodded thoughtfully. ‘Gran’s staying the night at Pat’s. The house is empty.’
Connie looked into his eyes. They didn’t need words. They could read each other’s minds.
At Nan’s, Lucky was in the tin bath. Vic pushed a toy boat on the surface. They all shrieked with laughter as Lucky’s fat hands hit the water and splashed them. After supper it was Nan who suggested they leave him with her for the evening.
‘He’ll go off in the pram with a bit of rocking. Why don’t you two go to the cinema or somewhere nice? In fact, if it’s late, you can collect him in the morning.’
An hour later they found themselves in Gran’s parlour. Lying on cushions in front of a blazing fire, Vic kissed her again and again. Connie kissed him back, needing his hands to touch her, arouse her.
‘I want you so much,’ she groaned as he undid the buttons of her blouse. His lips covered her in tiny kisses only stopping when he looked into her eyes. ‘Connie, if we go on—’
‘I don’t want you to stop.’
‘Are you sure?’
She nodded, placing his hands on her naked breasts. ‘Feel what you’re doing to me.’
‘I want you, my darling, so much.’
‘And I want you. Make love to me. Make me remember this evening for ever.’
He took her into his arms and adored her; she had never imagined such bliss could fill a human heart.
‘Connie, I’ve something to tell you.’ The firelight flickered on their naked bodies. The smoke from his cigarette curled up into the air as his fingers played lightly on her skin.
She rolled against him, nestling her head on his shoulder. ‘I don’t want to know it.’
He smiled as he rubbed his chin against her forehead. ‘I’ve been posted to Chatham.’
‘What’s that?’
‘It’s a big naval barracks. From there we’ll be sent to our ships.’
She sat up. ‘When will I see you again?’
He pulled her against him, his hand brushing the soft blond curls from her eyes. ‘I can’t tell you that, I’m afraid.’
‘But how will I know where you are?’
‘Or that either. Everything is secret. Even we don’t know what’s ahead of us.’
Connie looked into his eyes, frightened now. How could she bear the sacrifice they had to make for their country? ‘I hate this war,’ she said fiercely. ‘I hate it with all my heart.’
‘We’re fighting for freedom, darling.’
‘I know. But it’s such a heavy price to pay.’
‘I promise I’ll come back.’
She knew he was trying to reassure her and she wanted to believe him. ‘Make love to me,’ she whispered. ‘I don’t want to think about tomorrow. I just want you – now – this moment.’
Taking her in his arms, he kissed her, and sinking back into the cushions they shut out the world and all the worries of tomorrow.
Connie’s memories of the two short days they spent together were the happiest of her life. The Blitz really did appear to be over, but in another corner of the world the Russians had been caught unprepared by the German onslaught. There was also news of another ferocious Atlantic battle. The British naval fleet had avenged HMS Hood by sinking Bismarck. Germany’s pride had been destroyed with a vengeance that had even the British people gasping aloud. Pursued relentlessly by every available British ship and aircraft, she had been cornered and sunk, so avenging the death of Hood.
‘Were there any survivors?’ Olive asked the night before Vic was due to return to Chatham. Ebbie was reading from the newspaper and Vic and Connie were sitting side by side on the couch, listening solemnly to the report.
Ebbie shook his head, his eyes not lifting. ‘A thousand plus crew there were. Most of them are presumed to have perished, sent to the bottom with their ship.’
‘She was a doomed vessel,’ Vic said quietly. ‘Even if she was Germany’s newest and fastest, it didn’t make any difference to our High Command. The morale of our fleet depended upon a kill.’
‘It’s terrible.’ Connie shuddered, thinking of the wives and mothers who, like those of the Hood’s crew, would never see their men again. ‘All those lives lost on both sides.’
Olive put down her knitting and stared at the cot where Lucky was asleep. ‘It’s for his future and all our children’s future that we’re fighting. Even I can see the sense in that.’
‘And we’d do well to keep the fact in mind.’ Ebbie nodded as he lowered the newspaper to his lap. ‘The Luftwaffe has a sting in its tail. They might have let up on us a bit but they’re bombing other towns now, going through the bloody Baedeker guidebook, if you please! Who would have ever thought of that?’
The room went silent. Connie felt Vic squeeze her hand. It was their last night together and she wanted to have him all to herself, to be made love to. She didn’t want to talk about war and all the killing. But, despite her need to distance herself from grim realities, it seemed only right they share some time with the two families.
Vic stretched his long legs. ‘Well, I won’t keep you all up too late.’
Again silence as Ebbie rose and came forward to take hold of his hand. He pressed it hard in a firm grip. ‘It won’t be long before we see you again, son, I’m sure. Until then, good luck and keep out of trouble.’
Vic grinned. ‘You bet I will.’
‘Look after yourself now, Victor.’ Olive embraced the young man, lifting her hand to pat his cheek.
Outside, the sky was dark blue, crammed with stars and a bright silver moon. Hand in hand they strolled down the deserted street. There was so much she still wanted to say, with no time left to say it in. She knew he felt the same, as they made their steps shorter and slower and her aching heart felt as though it was painfully filling her chest. She tried to brush away the tears surreptitiously, but he saw her and caught her hand. Bringing her against him, they clung together.
After a long time, he whispered, ‘Oh, Connie, I love you so much.’
‘And I love you.’
‘Look after yourself while I’m away.’
‘I hate goodbyes.’
‘I’ll come home. Believe that, won’t you?’
‘I’ll try to.’
He bent his head and kissed her, bringing back in a flash all the wonderful hours she had spent in his arms, memories that would help to sustain her in the lonely days ahead.
‘Be brave, sweetheart.’
‘I don’t want you to go.’
‘Neither do I .’
He took her shoulders and cleared his throat roughly as though he was about to speak. But then he let her go and she watched him stride away, out of her life once more.
Connie felt sick with love and grief. Half of her world was missing. She wouldn’t truly live again until he was safe in her arms once more.
Chapter Twelve
Lucky turned his first approximate ‘birthday’ in June. Connie and Nan made a cake, celebrating what everyone hoped was the end of the nightly bombing. Whilst the all clear persisted, Billy enlisted the help of Taffy to replace the corner of roof that was missing. Tiles and rafters were nailed back and the office at work was once again habitable. Life was getting back to normal, Connie reflected one warm August morning, as she walked to work. Even Ted Jackson, the postman, was looking more cheerful as he hopped off his bike to hand her a letter.
‘One for you, Connie!’
‘Thanks, Ted.’ Her heart turned over as she glanced at the naval postmark.
Tucking the letter in her pocket, she resisted the temptation to open it just yet. She’d wait until she could savour every word and maybe – oh, please God – he’d say when he was coming home again.
It wasn’t until she was sitting on the wharf wall with Ada in their dinner break that Connie found t
ime to read it. ‘I promised myself I wasn’t going to get upset,’ Connie said when she came to the end of the single page, ‘but he doesn’t say when he’s coming home or where he is or anything like that. It’s like eating an ice-cream without any flavour.’
Ada grinned. ‘Yeah, but the lovey dovey bits are nice, ain’t they?’
Connie nodded, but she had been hoping dearly there would be a clue to his whereabouts or a small hint as to his next leave.
‘Wally don’t know one end of a pen from the other,’ Ada continued to grumble. ‘Your Vic’s got a real way with words.’
Connie immediately felt guilty. She had so much to be grateful for. Her family and friends had survived the Blitz and her job at Dalton’s was still safe. She even had her own room back, where she and Lucky could sleep in peace each night. But without knowing when she was going to hold Vic in her arms again, there was a huge gap in her life.
‘The thing is, Wally’s never written me a letter or said anything like Vic says to you.’
‘He might if he went away somewhere.’
‘Sometimes I wish he would.’
‘You don’t mean that.’
Ada didn’t reply, just chewed on her lip. Then suddenly she lifted her hands and slapped them down in her lap. ‘Oh, life is just so boring, Con. We never do anything, just sit in or go out for a walk and that’s only if he’s not tired. What a laugh, eh? Usually it’s the woman who is knackered or has a headache, but oh no, not in Wally’s case. He has more headaches lately than mum ever did and that’s saying something. We used to go to the pictures and sit in the back row, but we don’t even do that now. And the last blooming time we went we had to take bloody Jean with us.’
Connie knew that Wally’s sister had become a nuisance; not only had Ada to share a room with her, but the couple were continually pestered by Jean’s demands to go out with them.
‘Ada, don’t you miss your own family?’
‘Course I do. My sisters especially. Jean is nothing like them. She’s spoiled and selfish and a right little madam.’
‘What about Wally’s mum and dad?’
‘Well, they’re not bad really. Just a bit straight-laced. They go to church on Sundays and I have to go with them to keep the peace. But my heart’s not in it and neither was Wally’s once. As I said, life is just so boring seeing each other every day, doing the same thing over and over again, never getting any time alone. Even when we do – you know – enjoy ourselves, it’s over and done with in seconds.’
