Because of the twinkle in his eye, she didn’t understand if he was teasing her or not.
“Miss, you are safe with me.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” she responded in her stern nursing voice. She used it when a patient had to do something unpleasant, but important to their care. At eighteen, she understood her manner didn’t carry the weight of the matrons in the ward, but she did her best.
He gave her a dimpled smile. “Are on your way to work?”
“I’m going to have a bite of supper first.”
“Is that your food?” He pointed to a box carried on a shoulder strap.
“That’s my gas mask. This is my dinner.” She patted the canvas bag she held.
“You carry a mask every day?”
“It pays to be ready in case of an attack. I must be able to help the patients.”
“Brave.”
Was he making fun of her? A flyer who’d probably been in dogfights against the enemy wouldn’t think her courageous.
“I mean it.” He seemed to understand her skepticism of his statement concerning her bravery.
“Thank you.” Harriet paused. “It is only a few more blocks, but the next one is rather difficult with all the rubble. An ordnance exploded a while ago.”
“You say that so calmly.”
She shrugged. “Part of the times.” Her voice sounded cool but, inside, her stomach turned every time she passed the ruined flats where people had died. She found herself walking faster.
They had just crossed the street when an air-raid alarm wailed.
“We better go to the underground.” She glanced at him to see if he was following. “The tube is at the end of the street.”
People came out of the nearby structures and followed them, moving quickly toward cover.
Just before they descended, he hesitated as if deciding to go in or not. The alarm blared again and he moved forward.
While being jostled by people carrying children, bedding and supplies, they descended the flights of stairs. In the tube, the air was dank and the lights were dim.
“There’s a good spot by the wall.” She took his hand and led him, reaching the empty area before anyone else. She let go of him and pulled a plaid blanket from the bag and spread it on the floor. “We’ll be out of the foot traffic, less likely to be stepped on. Sit down.”
A surprised expression appeared on his face then instantly disappeared replaced with an indifferent one.
“Please join me—if you wish.” What was she thinking telling him what to do? He wasn’t her patient and he might not want to stay with her. They’d only met by accident. Used to caring for and giving orders to patients, she assumed he needed her help too. But he might dislike having a girl talking to him in a rude manner.
He sat cross-legged on the blanket and stared at her.
She blushed. “I didn’t mean to be bossy.” She pressed her back to the cool wall. “Mum says it comes with being a nurse.”
“No problem, shows you’re a natural leader. I admire a woman who can take charge.” He leaned against the wall next to her. “Well equipped too, what I mean to say is with the gas mask, food, and blanket.”
He looked at her and they both laughed.
“What else do you have in your magical bag?” He chuckled, a warm, deep sound that rumbled in his throat.
“Just bits and bobs.” She wasn’t about to tell him about the compact, brush, and lipstick.
A family holding an infant and toddler in their arms nodded and seated themselves nearby.
The tube was becoming crowded and the noise level increased. Somewhere, a baby cried and a child whined about leaving his dinner on the kitchen table.
Music from a harmonica blended with the other sounds and the aroma of cooked cabbage and the smell of stale air mingled.
On a serviette, Harriet put out sliced rye bread and chunks of cheddar cheese and set a thermos flask down. “Eat with me. I always bring extra to share. Tea?” She poured it into a cup taken from the top of the flask and handed it to him.
“What about you, Miss?”
“I’ll drink from the thermos.” She took a sip. “Since there are no friends or family to introduce us, may I say my name is Harriet Marion Davis?”
“I am pleased to meet you, Miss Davis. I am Royal Canadian Air Force pilot Alan Kenneth Barlow.”
“Happy to make your acquaintance, Mr. Barlow.”
He sat up. His eyes darted from place to place, his foot tapping out an unknown rhythm. Restless, she recognized this behavior in men of action forced to be out of the fight through no fault of their own.
“I’d like to be in the battle.” He glanced toward the ceiling. “I didn’t come to Britain to sit on my rump.” He startled. “No disrespect to your company intended.”
“None taken.”
“My plane is out of commission for a few days. So, I’m grounded. That’s why I got time to visit my friend.”
“We can leave when the all clear sounds, but that could be hours.”
He leaned back again. “Not good below ground. Prefer to be in the open.”
“Tell me about Canada.” She hoped to distract him. “I’m told it is big.”
“You have no idea.” A gleam showed in his blue eyes, the color of a sunny sky. “Big doesn’t begin to describe it. When I was a kid, my father piled us into our old car and we drove from the western sea, to the mountain, prairies, to out east. It took weeks. Papa was in no hurry. I think he wanted to view our Dominion more than we did. My twin brother and I were most excited about camping all the way.”
“Was your mum with you?”
“She was pregnant with my little sister at the time. But she never complained, and she was the best darned cook in the campgrounds.”
“You don’t say. An amazing woman.”
“She is. If you met her I think you would like my mother.”
What an odd thing to say. They weren’t going to even be in the same country. “I’m sure I would.” She smiled. “You have a twin brother. There are twins in our family too.”
“Yes, Albert. I am without a nickname otherwise we would both be Al.”
She laughed. “Alan and Albert. I can see Al might be confusing at the supper table.”
He grinned and put his hands behind his head and crossed his legs at the ankles. “My mother is a teacher and so is my father. Are you from London?”
“More cheddar?” she said nonsensically, surprised by the change of subject.
He brushed her arms as he reached for a chunk of cheese.
It sent an unexpected chill down her spine. She fiddled with her drink before she answered him. “I live in Wales. Though my mum is English, my father is from Cardiff. I came to London to study at a nursing college.”
“You’re not wearing a cap. I noticed all the nurses have caps on.”
“It’s in my bag. I will put it on at work.”
“Of course.”
The tube was bustling now and the noise had increased once again. He moved closer, presumably to hear her better.
“You prefer open spaces. Guess being a miner wouldn’t be your cup of tea,” she said.
“There is a fair bit of mining in our area. But not for me. Flying is the thing. In the west, the sky is wide open and the intense colour of blue is indescribable, with clouds so big and puffy I could reach up a grab one for a pillow.” He fluffed the imaginary cushion. “Rest my head, watch the birds dive then be brought back up on the wind currents.” He paused as if remembering. “The air is completely clean. If you fill your lungs, you might almost fly like the bald eagle.” He grinned. “Soar out over the cedar and spruce and continue above the lakes to the mountains.”
“I wish I could be there.”
“Maybe someday you will.”
He must have noticed her astonishment because he added, “Canada needs nurses.”
They sat together in silence. The children in the tube settled down and someone sang a Scottish folk song as a
lullaby.
In low voices, so as not to disturb anyone sleeping, they continued their conversation.
She often found casual discussions with men difficult, but Alan was different. His kind demeanor made him the exception. Her words flowed and he listened without judgment when she offered her stories or opinions. She shared upcoming plans and even admitted the war sometimes caused a sense of hopelessness.
Alan told her of his life in rural Canada and of the day he fell out of the tree in his front yard and broke his arm. He and his brother had a race to get to the highest branch. “I got to the top first. Then I then fell.” He laughed. “Papa made climbing trees off limits afterward.”
Not stingy with words, he continued, then ceased abruptly. “I can be boring and it’s been so long since I’ve talked freely. Stop me when I reach your limit to endure more.” He appeared serious. However, he winked and then smiled.
“Please continue.” She sipped her now cold tea and relaxed. “Hearing the whole world isn’t falling apart is reassuring.”
CHAPTER THREE
The all clear boomed as morning dawned. What would they find on the streets of her adopted city?
After climbing the stairs, they finally peeked out of the underground. She sighed with relief. Though there was rubble in the street, the structures stood and there were no fires.
Dear God, don’t let the hospital be destroyed.
Avoiding the debris strewn in their path, they rushed toward the emergency facility. The edifice had suffered hits with V1 and V2 rockets in July 1944 and February 1945. Now in early March, maybe the rockets had struck again.
“No damage,” she cried as they turned a corner and saw the hospital.
She wiped a tear from her cheek. “Let’s find your friend.”
After he visited his buddy, Alan would go back to his life never to be seen again. A stranger, still she had connected with him and was reluctant to sever the tie. For him, the evening was only a way to pass the time in the underground. By now, the private information she shared was most likely forgotten.
In order to be the first to break away, she said goodbye after pointing him to the room where his friend waited. A look of surprise spread across his face. “Miss Davis, thank you for your help.” He hesitated. “I believe we share values in common that make it reasonable for us to meet again. I hold a three-day pass. It would be my pleasure to allow you to show me the city.” He paused as another nurse walked by in the hallway. “If you have the inclination and time, of course.”
Suddenly shy, Harriet looked down the hallway. “Today is my day off. I often work nights. I should have been on duty yesterday.”
“Might I hope you will take me up on my suggestion?”
“Let me ask Sister. If she doesn’t need my help, I would be happy to show you London.”
An hour later, she took Alan to her small flat nearby, which she shared with three other nurses. In the lounge, decorated with furniture from the local charity shop, she offered him a seat in a club chair upholstered in faded chintz.
She didn’t realize his size until he sat in the feminine armchair. “Maybe the sofa would suit you better.” She smiled then introduced her flat mate, Peggy.
He stood to greet her and then sat on the chesterfield as suggested.
Peggy entertained him while she went to take a quick bath and change her clothes.
In the toilet, Hattie took a nearly dry slip from the clothesline over the tub and pulled it on. Then she brushed out her shoulder-length curls securing them with a white ribbon tied around her head with a bow at the top. She scooted as fast as possible to the bedroom she shared with Peggy, and drew on a white cotton blouse and navy wool skirt. Silk stockings were unavailable because of the war. She stepped into black pumps and grabbed her purse and gabardine coat.
Her flat mate met her in the hall. “He is handsome. Where did you meet him?”
Harriet told her and watched a shocked expression spread over her friend’s face. “Is he American?”
“Canadian.”
“Well, you be careful and watch your ps and qs. Those North Americans’ reputation is for fast moves.” She started to leave but came back. “Do you need cab fare? I will lend it to you.”
“The money is pinned to my brassiere as always.” She gave Peggy a hug. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”
Nervous, she closed her eyes and took a slow breath. Would people consider this date a pick up? Should she go? Perhaps the right question might be, did she want to? Understanding she did not wish him to disappear from her life, she hurried to the lounge.
“What shall we see first?” he asked when she came into the room.
“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m famished. You must be starving too. Why don’t I make breakfast for us before we leave? You can freshen up. I set out clean towels.”
“Sound good to me.” A smile sent the corners of his mouth tilting upward.
“Food coming up.” She pointed him toward the toilet and left for the kitchen.
Thankful she hadn’t used her ration of one egg for the week, she cracked it into a small bowl and added water and a bit of milk. She whipped the mixture until it was fluffy. With a touch of salt and pepper it would do nicely. Soon, two strips of bacon sizzled in a frying pan. She’d saved the meat from last week’s provisions. Now it was available for Alan.
Though thin, he was a big man; how much would he eat? She guessed. Time to start the oats. With an apron tied to cover her best skirt, she hummed a big band favorite while she cooked. The kettle whistled and she moved it from the burner to make room for the frying pan and the scrambled egg.
She stopped. What if Alan thought she always entertained men in her flat? The idea hit her hard in the stomach. This was the first date who’d been allowed in the home let alone given a meal. Her face heated. He might have the wrong impression.
“Smells good in here,” Alan said as he entered the room.
“Mr. Barlow, I want you to understand I don’t bring men into my house. You are the first to cross the threshold and it was just…” She paused to find the right words. “Because of exceptional circumstances. You mustn’t believe a mistaken notion…” Her voice faded away as she decided how to expresses her concern.
“Miss Davis, I fully comprehend the situation and acknowledge the kindness you have afforded me.” He stood facing her, his eyes intense. “The war creates many a strange occurrence and we all adjust as best we are able. I’m grateful you are willing to make an exception for me,” he said formally but grinned.
“Thank you.” Her shoulders relaxed as she smiled with relief. “Please take a seat.” She pointed to one of the chairs next to a small wooden table.
He pulled it out and sat down. “No eggs for you?”
“I want oats. Gives me energy. Tea?” No need for him to learn of the details of the Ration Book and the choices imposed. Eating on the air force, base he most likely didn’t have to worry about such things. She was aware he lived in a rural valley in Canada, and his family had chickens and a garden filled with fruits and vegetables. That much he had told her last night. How wonderful to have all that was needed and more.
They lingered over a second cup of tea, mapping out the day. First to a museum and a park before going off to shops where he might find souvenirs for his family.
“You’re not married?” she blurted out and then covered her mouth with her hand.
“Never had the time.” He chuckled. “No girl left back home either. What about you, if I may ask?”
“Nursing school and work takes up most of my time.”
“Okay. I’d like to visit the Victoria and Albert Gallery. If you don’t mind.”
“Do you paint?”
“I dabble in watercolour, but not since the war started.” His look of regret passed swiftly. “Wanted to visit the V and A exhibition to look at the Tuner and Constable landscapes. The skies remind me of home. I always told myself someday….” He hesitated. “There may not be
another chance.”
The harsh words hung in the little kitchen, as gray clouds on an otherwise fine day. She shivered at the thought his death in the war might not allow him another opportunity and resisted the need to hold him to her.
“I don’t know a lot about art. Most of my time was spent reading medical books. Still, I’d be happy to go with you.” She’d buy him a small pad of paper and a pencil so he could draw what he saw and record his exploits to take home with him when he returned to Canada—if he survived. The thought struck a nerve and she gasped.
“Are you all right?”
“Just a spot of tea down the wrong pipe,” she fibbed. To show she was, indeed, fine she swallowed another bit of liquid.
“The capital of British Columbia is Victoria. So, I have an affinity for the queen.” He paused. “For lunch, I thought we’d buy fish and chips. Eat out of doors, maybe a park?”
“Hmm, nice weather. Afterward we might shop for your family’s gifts.”
“Perfect. By the way, my buddy is going to recover, but he obviously can’t use his tickets for tonight. He gave them to me. A couple of seats for a comedy at the Stoll Theatre. What do you think?”
“Lovely.”
To keep Peggy happy, she rinsed the dishes before they left.
The weather cooperated and instead of the usual rain, the sun came out mid-morning. She unbuttoned her coat and gazed up at the sky. Alan was smiling when she glanced at him.
“You’re beautiful. I didn’t realize last night in the dim light.”
“You are too,” she said stupidly and then wished she could retract it.
CHAPTER FOUR
March 1945 Okanagan Valley, British Columbia, Canada
The apple trees, planted on the forty-acre spread, bloomed early this year. There might be fruit to pick sooner than planned. Pleased, Mary Barlow smiled as she walked down the dirt road, from the white two-story farmhouse, heading toward the rural mailbox.
Every day she prayed there’d be communication from one or both of her boys. The twins had been gone for some time now. Nonetheless, she didn’t miss them any less than the day they moved out.
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