She smiled. “It was uphill most of the way.”
They sat opposite each other, both nervous, unsure.
He said, “I know. I nearly fell off when two chaps saluted me and I tried to return the compliment. “
She laughed. It was a delightful sound, Allenby thought, and it made things easier.
The proprietor came to the table and regarded them curiously. She seemed satisfied and said, “I’ll bring your tea now.” She turned her head and added, “Cream too.”
Allenby said, “You look smashing.” He faltered. Too quick. Too clumsy. “Sorry. I’m not used to this.”
She smiled and watched him sadly. “You’re doing fine. I just can’t help thinking of the way I spoke to you, and now you’re back I feel ashamed.”
Impetuously he reached across the table and took her wrist.
“We’re not going to talk about that. Once I thought I might never see you again. That worried me more than anything.”
The tea arrived, and the little old lady unloaded her tray with great care so that Allenby would not have to release the girl’s wrist.
Allenby said, “I must see you again after this. If you can bear it. I need to.”
She studied his face, the lines around his mouth. He was like a lost, desperate boy.
She said, “I was speaking to my family after you rang me.” She stirred her tea and did not look up. “I have a week’s leave. My people would love to meet you.”
Allenby watched her, the way her lashes covered her eyes. Her hair was black, much darker than he had realized. He also noticed how her spoon was still turning. It had never occurred to him that she might be as unsure as he was.
“But you know about-“
She lifted her eyes again. “Yes. It won’t be for a few days yet. It’ll be easy. My home is just on the `frontier’ in Devon. We can go there together. The supply officer has a van that can drop us almost at the front door. Daddy can arrange a car for you if you get a recall.” She watched him steadily. “I’d like that.”
He squeezed her wrist. “So would I. Very much.”
She said quietly, “They may ask you about Tim. You know. “
Allenby had expected that. “I’ll try to explain-” He could not continue.
Instead he asked, “What does your father do?”
She replied, “Daddy’s a soldier.” She left it at that.
They talked quietly until the road outside was completely dark. Allenby realized that the two women had gone. He had not even heard the bell above the door ring.
Her hand was in his now, very still and warm. He could not believe it was happening.
But it was real. The mysterious mission, the X-Craft, Prothero’s plan, they were without substance. .
Then it was time to go. She had the first watch and needed to have a bath. She smiled as she said it. “Baths are rationed at the Wrennery! You’d never get one otherwise with some of the girls down there!”
They stood up and Allenby said, “I’ll escort you back there, if I may?”
She picked up her shoulder bag. “Thanks.”
The old lady came to the table and as Allenby took out his wallet she said, “No. Not this time, son.” She glanced at his George Cross. “Come again.”
What was it, Allenby wondered. Had she lost someone in the navy? Had the decoration sparked off some memory?
The old woman watched them leave and then said to the tearooms at large, “Just right for each other.”
They pedalled downhill until a secluded building with a naval patrolman at the entrance loomed out of the darkness. They stood self-consciously with their bicycles between them.
Then Allenby said, “I’d very much like to kiss you.” That he had said it was even harder to believe.
She leaned over the bicycle and he kissed her on the cheek.
He could not see her expression as she said, “That was nice. “
The tea or the kiss he was not quite sure. Then she mounted her bicycle and rode through the gates.
Allenby pushed his own cycle and turned towards the river. He did not want to get back too soon. He needed this moment to last.
13
A PLACE IN THE COUNTRY
THE SUPPLY OFFICER’S van gathered speed and left Allenby with the girl at the roadside. There was nothing else there but a great pair of gates and a long, curving drive lined by trees.
She said, “Come on.” Together they walked through the gates and Allenby saw several army ambulances parked near the house and outbuildings. There were people too. Men in blue coats like dressing gowns, some on crutches, others being pushed in wheelchairs.
It must have been a fine country house, Allenby thought. Now it was a military hospital.
He glanced at her anxiously. “Is your father one of those poor chaps?”
She stopped and looked at him, her eyes warm. “I never thought you might think that.” She seized his arm and squeezed it. “No this is my home, or part of it at the moment.”
She saw his astonishment and added, “Don’t be nervous. They’re just people. “
But when they reached the house and the door was opened by a maidservant Allenby began to realize the extent of his mistake.
“Why, Miss Joanna, how lovely to see you again!”
It was just like a film, he thought.
A door opened across the hallway and an imposing khaki figure strode over to greet them.
Allenby’s heart sank. The soldier as she had called him was some sort of general.
He shook hands while the girl removed her hat and tossed out her hair as she watched them.
“Good of you to invite me, sir.”
The girl’s father eyed him and then the decoration on his jacket. In those seconds Allenby was able to recognize the rank on his shoulders; he was a brigadier.
“Come into the study for a moment, eh?” He beckoned to the maid. “Take his bag up to his room, Lucy, there’s a good girl. “
He was not at all what Allenby had been expecting nor was he much like Joanna or her dead brother. You would have known him to be a military man no matter what he wore. Neat gray hair and clipped moustache, a man who moved and spoke with every confidence. Used to being obeyed.
The study was comfortable and lined with books. There was a big desk with silver oddments scattered on it to act as paperweights. Pieces of army memorabilia, of the brigadier’s career.
The girl sat in a deep leather chair, kicked off her shoes and drew her knees up to her chin. In spite of her father’s intimidating presence Allenby had to look at her. She had discarded her coat, and he saw the curve of her body which no regulation white shirt could hide.
The brigadier said, “Your mother’s in the village, Joanna. Arranging for tonight’s dinner I have no doubt. We shall have a few friends along too.” He eyed Allenby questioningly. “All settled in?”
“Yes, sir. I-I know this part of the world quite well. Before the war-” His voice trailed away.
“Really? Which hotels did you use? I’m afraid most of them are billets for my licentious soldiery nowadays.”
Allenby looked round the room. He felt trapped and yet so conscious of the girl watching him. He was making a fool of himself. Hotels. If only the brigadier knew. At best they had managed to stay in a boarding house, or some bed-andbreakfast cottage in those far-off days.
“One was the White Horse, I think.”
“Can’t say I know it.” He turned as boots thudded on the terrace outside the windows. “I must tell the MO not to allow those damned orderlies to use this for a short cut!”
He sat down and offered Allenby a silver cigarette box. It had a regimental crest on the lid.
Allenby shook his head and wondered what the brigadier thought about having two children in the Senior Service.
The brigadier crossed his legs and blew smoke towards a lively fire.
“Tell me about my son Timothy. Anything you can remember.
Allenby knew that the girl had a
nother brother, the oldest one, who was a captain in the Coldstream Guards somewhere in Italy.
Allenby began to talk. It was easier than he had expected.
As if he was describing somebody else.
Once or twice the brigadier stopped him to clarify a point.
But otherwise he listened intently.
Allenby saw the girl watching his face, and as a log on the fire blazed up suddenly he saw that her eyes were wet. But she smiled at him. Protective, as if to encourage him.
He said, “And that’s just about all I can remember, sir.” “He was on the other side of the door, you say?”
“Yes.” Allenby could see it, the room, the obscene parachute mine, as if it had been yesterday.
“By the time I was dug out and sent to hospital, it was all over, sir. I was going to write to you, but-but I didn’t.” The girl looked at her father. “That was my fault, Daddy.” “Perhaps.” The brigadier seemed to be far away. “And you shouted a warning?”
Allenby looked down at his hands. They were gripped together although he did not recall doing it.
“I’m not sure, sir. It’s all blank. Lost. I’m sorry. We were friends.”
She said quietly, “Tim wouldn’t have felt anything.” She looked directly at Allenby. It was a question.
He shook his head. “No.”
The brigadier consulted a clock. “I must go now.” He studied Allenby and then his daughter. “I shall see you for a drink before dinner. ” He strode out calling for his driver. They both sat in silence for several minutes and then the girl got up and crossed to his chair. Allenby could not see her face because she stood just behind his shoulder.
She said, “Don’t mind him. I know he can be a bit forbidding. “
Allenby stopped trying to remember. It was hopeless. All he could think of was that the brigadier had not hugged or kissed his daughter. Not the thing, perhaps.
Her father was in charge of transport. He would be up to his eyes in it with plans for the invasion looming every day. That probably explained his abrupt manner. His only daughter was working in Special Operations, and his dead son, who had not even been an officer, had died doing a vital job. His other son was on active service at the front, while he, who had given his life to the army, was involved only with transport.
She said, “Thank you for telling us. I often wondered about it. He wrote in his letters how fond he was of you, of the way you looked after him. Tim would have been a brilliant scholar so I was amazed that he went for something like mine disposal.”
“He was very brave. It would be nearer the truth to say that he looked after me, not the other way around.”
She touched his hair with her fingers and when he turned to look up at her he saw that she was smiling but her cheeks were wet. He put his arm around her waist. “I’m in love with you. You know that, don’t you?”
She did not move or speak and he could see the movement of her breasts against her shirt which made a lie of her composure.
“You mustn’t say that, Richard. You hardly know me.”
“I can’t help it.” He tried to smile. “Call me Dick. Everyone else does.” He thought of his mother. The one exception. He said wretchedly, “I’m a fool. I don’t know what’s got into me. We both know what may happen.”
He made to get up but she shook her head and then put her arms around his neck and pulled his face to her breast.
“Don’t speak like that. You mustn’t. I care what happens to you. When I got your letter I felt something. Something that was different. It frightened me. It still does a bit. But love? How can you know that?”
He pulled her closer and heard the beat of her heart, felt her nearness, her warmth.
“I just do.”
Somewhere a door slammed and an ambulance drove slowly down the drive towards the gates. But its mission, even the war itself, was held at bay.
“I’ll take you to your room.” She laughed shakily. “They’ve given you one about a mile from mine!”
Allenby stood up and held her, her hair touching his mouth. “I wish we could be alone somewhere.”
She prised herself from his grip. “You be good, sir.” She stepped away but her eyes were bright, excited.
“Mummy will be here any minute.”
Allenby smiled. “That settles it then.”
Later, when Allenby had shaved and taken a bath in a vastly proportioned room, she led him on a tour of the house. One complete wing had been taken over as a recuperation hospital for wounded officers. Allenby caught occasional glimpses of some of them. They did not appear to speak much and looked lost, totally separate from everything but the fate which had brought them here. Survivors, as Frazer would call them.
It was a great house, he thought. How could he have hoped to impress Joanna?
They met again for drinks and Allenby was introduced’ to Joanna’s mother. She was extremely attractive and very like her daughter. There was the senior medical officer from the hospital, the local magistrate and his wife, a couple of army types from the brigadier’s staff and a close woman friend of the family whose husband had been reported missing in Burma. She was doing her best, but looked closer to tears than to laughter.
Allenby sat down for dinner next to Joanna’s mother and somehow knew that the meal was going to be a trial of strength. The magistrate was extremely boring and kept complaining about the soldiers who were camped everywhere.
Joanna looked up and smiled at him. “But they are our soldiers, surely?”
The brigadier said between courses, “I suppose you were too young to have a job before the war, eh?” He was smiling at Allenby. “At university no doubt; what were you reading?”
Like a cat with a mouse, Allenby thought.
When he had first been commissioned he had sometimes been asked the same question by his new companions, mostly out of idle curiosity. He had usually sidestepped the matter by referring to his previous life as “studying at college.” After all, he had told himself, a technical school was almost a college in its way.
He replied, “I didn’t go to university, sir.”
He hated to lose face in front of Joanna, but to lie to her father would ruin everything. Not that the brigadier would allow him to slip off the hook so easily.
The brigadier’s eyebrows rose slightly. “Surprising.”
The senior medical officer, who looked slightly drunk, exclaimed, “It’s the navy, sir, not the army, what!” and roared with laughter.
Allenby was angry with them, more so with himself for caring so much.
The door opened and the brigadier looked at the maid, “Well, Lucy?”
Allenby saw Joanna’s eyes watching him, anxious for him, defiant, it was hard to tell which.
The maid said, “Beg pardon, sir, but there’s a telephone call. “
The brigadier dabbed his mouth with his napkin. “Duty calls, I suppose.” He looked round the table. “If you’ll excuse me.”
The maid explained.. “No, sir, ‘tis for the naval gentleman.” Allenby stood up, his mind suddenly frozen. Not now. Not so soon.
The maid stood by the open door as he hurried past. But he heard Joanna’s voice as he left the room, as clear as if she had been speaking to him.
“He didn’t go to university, Daddy. But the King gave him the George Cross, and he’s down for the DSC although he doesn’t know about that, or care either, I suspect!” She sounded close to tears.
The room was still quiet when Allenby re-entered. He looked at their faces and mixed expressions. Then he turned to the girl and gave a shrug.
“Recall. I have to go.”
She hurried round the table and seized his arm, oblivious to everything.
“I’m coming with you, Dick!”
He tried to laugh it off. “Probably got it wrong. You stay here and-” His voice trailed away.
The brigadier said, “I’ll get my driver.” For once he seemed at a loss for words.
Allenby said his farewell
s and took his bag from Lucy. And he had not even slept in that fine bed.
They walked out to the car. The sky was full of stars, the air like ice.
She did not put on her cap but clung to Allenby’s arm, her head pressed against his shoulder as the car roared down the drive and onto the main road.
They barely spoke until they were almost at the river. Then she raised her face and tightened her grip on his arm. She whispered, “Kiss me.” When he lowered his face to her cheek she said urgently, “No, Dick, a proper one!”
Their mouths came together, her lips parted as he kissed with the desperation of despair and hunger.
The car swung round a bend and they saw the wire fence and the armed sentry already staring at the approaching staff car.
They broke apart, hearts pounding, eyes slightly wild. He kissed her again, hard on the mouth. “I love you.”
She replied in a small voice, “Come back, Dick. I’ll be waiting.”
The driver opened the door and watched as the lieutenant strode towards the gates.
“Home again, miss?”
She shook her head, barely able to speak. “No. Take me to the Wrens’ quarters, please. I’ll show you the way.”
She looked back but Allenby had been swallowed up in the darkness.
When Allenby awoke from a restless sleep it took a few moments to recall where he was and what was happening. He groped for the curtain which enclosed his bunk and peered into the submarine’s wardroom. A small place lined with bunks and crammed with lockers, a table, even some cases of food which could not find a home elsewhere in the boat.
He licked his lips as he peered at his watch. Four o’clock in the morning. They had been at sea for two days since leaving Falmouth; now the midget submarine X-19 was towing somewhere astern in the hands of her passage crew. What an unnatural existence, he thought. His mouth tasted of diesel, of wet steel.
Like the X-Craft’s crew, he had slept as much as he could, snatching a meal when the watches changed or a sudden alarm brought the crew charging from their sleep.
He listened to the faint purr of the electric motors and toyed with the plan he had to carry out, the orders that he had done his best to memorize.
The Volunteers Page 19
