‘To finish our training. It seems this recruitment camp is bursting at the seams and we’re being shipped off to Harrogate.’
‘Wonderful!’ said a voice heavy with sarcasm. ‘It’s a spa town, for heaven’s sakes. All the smart folks go there. There are some bee-oo-tiful hotels. Can you imagine us lot red-faced and sweating running along the streets of Harrogate in our passion-killers and gym-shoes?’
‘Well, there’s a war on,’ Mavis countered stoutly. ‘They’ll have to put up with us.’
‘Old biddies tut-tutting and dirty old men leering at us in our WAAF issue underwear.’
‘It won’t be like that, w-will it?’ one girl asked nervously.
‘You’ll see,’ said Winifred, the self-appointed Job’s comforter.
It wasn’t so bad after all, Kate thought. It was quite a laugh doing drill in the Valley Gardens and learning to march in neat formation up one of the steepest hills. It reminded her of the hill in Lincoln, she mused, leading up to the cathedral. She had run up that one, and now, out of all of them, only Kate Hilton arrived at the top with enough breath to say, ‘Race you back to the billet . . .’
She and Mavis were lucky in their landlady, who fussed over them like a mother hen. Others could be a bit grim, from the accounts of some of the girls.
Kate smiled as she thought of Winifred’s dire warnings. They did have to run along the streets jacketless and in gym-shoes with their lisle stockings rolled down to the ankles, and it caused a bit of a stir among the locals, but their waving was friendly and the children running alongside were joining in rather than mocking.
But on a Sunday, for Church Parade, well, there was a real sense of pride in being seen marching smartly along the wide roads, each wing vying with the others to be the best turned out.
‘It’s all lectures, drill and PT,’ Kate wrote in her letter to Danny. ‘Then more lectures, drill and PT. Sometimes there’s gas mask drill, clothing parades and then more lectures, PT and more drill! Is it the same for you?’ she wanted to know.
‘Yesterday we had a second inoculation and more than half the girls fainted. I have to admit I felt a bit sick but managed not to be.’ Thank goodness, she thought to herself as she wrote the words. She didn’t want to give anyone the chance to bestow that awful nickname on her again.
A few days before they were due to leave Harrogate, Kate received a much-delayed letter from home. It was from her stepfather telling her that his father, the kindly Mr Godfrey, had died suddenly in his sleep. ‘The funeral is in Lincoln on Friday. Would you be able to come . . .?’ Oh, poor Mrs Godfrey – and Peggy! Her heart went out to them. Friday, her stepfather wrote. Today was Thursday. Could she . . .? She turned the letter over again to read the date at the top and saw that it was dated over ten days earlier. The funeral must have taken place on the previous Friday. Kate immediately sat down to write letters to her stepfather and to Mrs Godfrey and Peggy. Then, with an hour of free time left before tea, she went out to post them.
Needing to be alone, she walked to the edge of the town overlooking the Stray, a vast expanse of smooth parkland. She missed the beach and the sea but the expanse of green before her was a comfort. She sat down on the grass, her chin resting on her knees drawn up to her chest, her arms wrapped around her legs, and watched two children running and chasing each other. They reminded her sharply of herself and Danny at the same age.
The news in her stepfather’s letter had saddened her, and suddenly she felt incredibly homesick. It washed over her in waves. She longed for the bite of the east wind off the North Sea, the flat landscape behind, the cries of gulls overhead. Back home they’d be threshing now; the scene was so vivid she could almost smell the dusty chaff and hear the steady throb of the steam engine. Her stepfather would be finding solace up to his elbows in oil and grease, whilst her mother would be teasing him gently, helping to ease his recent loss; ‘Great noisy, lumbering thing!’ she’d be saying of the engines Jonathan loved.
Oh, why aren’t I there, Kate thought suddenly, with Danny feeding the drum and me holding the sacks ready at the other end for the corn . . . ?’
She heard footsteps close by and Mavis’s cheerful voice. ‘There you are.’
Kate sighed, her moment of solitude – so hard to snatch these days – gone. She stood up, shook the bits of grass from her skirt and smiled at Mavis coming towards her. The plump girl was so extrovert and friendly, never taking offence. It was impossible to feel irritated with Mavis for many minutes.
She linked her arm through Kate’s as they walked back towards the town. ‘Pay Parade tomorrow and Posting Parade the day after. What have you put in for?’
‘Motor Transport.’ Kate grinned inwardly remembering her tongue-in-cheek lie when she had been asked if she could drive, especially recalling that the only time she had been behind a wheel she had ended up driving the Squire’s motor car into the dyke and had nearly cost Danny his job.
‘What about you?’
‘R/T operator on an operational station,’ the girl replied promptly.
Kate nodded. ‘You’ll be good at that. A friendly voice over the airwaves is just what the pilots need when they’re up there.’
The two friends were lucky; they were posted for further training to the same place, but they had to part from all the other girls they had come to know.
‘We might never see any of them again, you know,’ Mavis said, unusually sober as they stood together in the train. It was crowded with soldiers and the carriages were stuffy and smoke-filled. The two girls didn’t even bother to try to find a seat.
Kate said nothing. Her thoughts were once more with Danny. With all this moving about to different camps to complete her training, she had heard nothing from him, and even anxious letters home to Beth Eland had brought no reply.
The weeks that followed were exhausting but Kate enjoyed the intensive Motor Transport training. She found the lessons in the mornings when they had to learn theory hard – it reminded her too much of school; but in the practical sessions – the driving, the maintenance work and even learning to do minor repairs – Kate was in her element. She became the instructor’s star pupil and passed out with the highest marks in all the practical tests. During one of the final tests – driving a convoy at night through the country side where the signposts had been removed and with headlamps dimmed to only a slit of light – Kate was placed at the head of the column of huge lorries.
‘You’ve got three hours,’ their instructor told her. ‘If you’re not back to camp by dawn, we’ll send out a spotter plane!’ He was grinning as he said it and she knew he was pinning his hopes, and possibly his reputation, on his recruits being first back to the camp. ‘Don’t forget, only you and the last vehicle have their lights on, everyone else follows the diff-light.’
Kate nodded. At the rear of the vehicles a small light had been fitted to shine down on to the white-painted differential. All the following vehicles would follow her lead. If she went wrong . . .
‘Don’t forget – I’m relying on you.’
Kate glanced at the clear night sky. She was in luck! Every star shone bright and true for her. Smiling, she revved the noisy engine and pressed her foot down on to the clutch-pedal. She had memorized the route from the map and she set off at a steady speed, glancing frequently into the wing mirror to check that the following vehicles were still there.
In the darkness, she grinned to herself. Oh, Danny, I wish you could see me now driving this great lorry. I wouldn’t drive the Squire’s new motor into the dyke now!
Two hours and forty-three minutes later, Kate pulled up at the guard-house, every lorry in her convoy following suit.
‘Halt! Who goes there?’ came the routine inquiry.
‘WAAE’ Kate smiled in the darkness.
‘Good Lord!’ The guard on duty peered at her. ‘You back already? We didn’t expect you back till first light.’ He grinned, stood back and waved them all through. As Kate pulled to a halt in the MT yard, the instruct
or appeared as she jumped down from the cab.
‘Well done! You’re first back.’ He said no more but the man who had shouted at them, bullied them, despaired of them over the past few weeks, finally put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it.
That was better than a medal, Kate thought. Later she was to find that the instructor had specially recommended her for promotion and she was immediately upgraded to Aircraftswoman First Class.
Mavis was not so fortunate.
‘They keep telling me that I’m too friendly over the radio. That I get too excited when there’s a flap on,’ she moaned to Kate. ‘They say I’ve got to be calm and efficient at all times. I know they’re right. A pilot in trouble doesn’t want to hear some hysterical female on the other end of his radio link . . .’ She sighed. ‘But it’s awfully difficult not to yell at a pilot to get out of his burning aircraft instead of trying to find out objectively if it’s feasible for him to bring it in to land.’
‘You’ll get the hang of it, Mave,’ Kate encouraged. ‘I still think you’re just the right sort of person. It’s no good having some cold fish who doesn’t give a damn.’
‘Mmm,’ Mavis said doubtfully.
But in the end, Mavis too passed out, not quite at the top of the class like Kate, but well enough to make her ecstatic at becoming a fully-fledged Aircraftswoman Second Class.
‘Now keep calm,’ Kate teased her. ‘You know what they told you.’
‘I know, but it’s the first time I’ve passed anything!’
‘Me too. First time I’ve ever been good at anything – except perhaps sewing.’
‘Sewing? Crikey – not much difference, is there?’ Mavis laughed.
Kate laughed too and spread her hands, looking down at them. ‘I suppose I’m just practical,’ she murmured, ‘rather than brainy.’ Unbidden, into her mind came a picture of her studious young sister, poring over her school books.
When they heard their postings, she and Mavis were still together.
‘Oh, isn’t that wonderful? By the way, where is Suddaby? I’ve never heard of it, have you?’
Kate nodded. ‘It’s where me grandad used to live before he came to live with us.’
‘Really? Evidently it’s a new station – an operational bomber station – just being built. Oh, I can’t wait! We’ll be there from the beginning.’ Mavis rubbed her hands together, her face wreathed in smiles. ‘Oh, isn’t it exciting? Where’s the nearest hot spot for night life there, then?’
Kate grinned. ‘Suddaby is out in the wilds, miles from anywhere with only birds and the cattle in the fields for company.’
Her friend’s face was a picture until she spotted Kate’s mischievous smile. ‘Oh, you, you’re teasing me.’
‘Well, a bit maybe. There are one or two market towns within easy reach, but it isn’t near a big city.’
‘Is it near where you live?’
‘Yes, it’s about thirteen miles inland from the sea.’
‘Oh goody, I’ve never seen the sea.’
Now it was Kate’s turn for her face to register surprise. ‘Never seen the sea! You’re joking.’
‘Nope. I was born, brought up and lived all my life in Leicester. We never had holidays when I was a kid.’ Her merry face brightened. ‘Why do you think I joined the WAAFs? Thought I’d see the world.’
Kate smiled ruefully on her friend’s behalf. ‘And the nearest you get is Lincolnshire!’
Mavis shrugged philosophically. ‘I don’t mind. I’m loving every minute.’ She paused, then asked again, ‘Well, where is the nearest big city, then?’
‘Lincoln,’ Kate said quietly and saw Mavis looking at her quizzically.
‘You don’t look very pleased,’ Mavis said, linking her arm through Kate’s and pulling her away from the excited chatter of the other girls comparing their postings. ‘I’d have thought you’d have been pleased if it’s nearer your home.’
Kate made an effort to smile. There were so many memories attached to that city, Kate thought; her childhood and then later, when she and Danny . . . Her mind shied away from that dreadful time. ‘Just – a few ghosts, Mave,’ she murmured.
‘Oh, we’ll lay those to rest good and proper, Kate, when we get whooping it up in the town. Poor old Lincoln won’t know what’s hit it when we get there! You mark my words.’
‘See you in Suddaby in a week’s time, then,’ Mavis was shouting, leaning precariously out of the train as it began to move. A cloud of smoke enveloped her and she was obliged to draw her head into the carriage.
Kate smiled. What a character! She’d been lucky to pal up with Mavis, she thought, as she heaved her kit-bag on to her back and made for another platform to catch her connection to Lynthorpe.
Seven whole days, she thought, with Christmas in the middle. And Danny is sure to be getting leave at the same time, she told herself.
She couldn’t wait to get home to see him.
Twenty-Two
‘He’s not here, lovey.’
‘Not – not here? But – he – he must be. He must be getting leave at the end of his training like me, surely? And it’s Christmas too!’
Sadly, Beth shook her head as she pulled open the back door wider, silently inviting Kate in. Although it was warm in the kitchen, Kate pushed her hands deeper still into the pockets of her greatcoat, hunching her shoulders.
Suddenly, she felt very cold.
The train journey home had seemed interminable. Standing on draughty platforms, waiting for connections, and then the train had chugged along at what seemed to Kate an inordinately slow pace.
And now Danny was not here.
‘Do you know when he’s coming?’
Beth shook her head, laying out cups on the table and mashing a pot of tea. ‘All I know is he’s having extra training so he can fly.’
‘Fly! Oh no. He’s not going to be a pilot, is he?’
A frown creased Beth’s brow. ‘No – but he’s going to be part of the crew on – on bombers. He said he was going to be – now, what was it? “A tail-end Charlie”, that was it.’
Kate sat down suddenly as her legs gave way. ‘A rear-gunner – and on bombers!’ Kate whispered, then her voice rose shrilly. ‘He – he’ll be flying over enemy territory. He’ll – he’ll . . .’
The sight of Beth’s white face stilled Kate’s outburst and she swallowed hard. She stood up suddenly and went to the older woman, putting her arms about her. Beth laid her head against Kate’s shoulder. ‘Oh, Kate, I couldn’t bear it if – if . . .’
The two women clung together in their mutual fear for Danny’s safety.
A little later when she left the Elands’ cottage, Kate felt too restless to return home. She set off across the marsh towards the Spit, walking the full length of the promontory of land. She stood at its tip, letting her gaze travel around the expanse of water. The wind whipped across the sea, making the waves choppy, the surface like a huge sheet of corrugated iron. It was grey and cold and so lonely, especially without Danny.
She turned away and retraced her steps towards the beach, wanting to find their hollow in the dunes. But her path was barred by coils of barbed wire, bouncing and rocking in the breeze, stretching along the edge of the dunes. And a huge notice in red lettering proclaimed ‘DANGER – MINES’. Kate gasped. They’d blocked off the beach and mined the sand-dunes too.
Thinking back longingly to the days when she and Danny had run barefoot across the smooth, unspoilt sands, for the first time she felt a spurt of hatred for this war.
Close by the concrete pillbox which the army had built for their observers stationed at the Point, she was about to turn away when she heard the unexpected sound of girlish giggles.
Kate’s mouth set in a grim line as she marched towards the entrance and peered into the gloomy interior. On a groundsheet, wrapped together in a passionate embrace, were a young man in khaki army uniform and a girl with blonde hair and shapely legs.
‘Rosie!’ Kate’s startled gasp escaped her lip
s before she could prevent it.
The couple shot apart, the girl pulling down her dress and scrambling to her feet.
Kate turned and stumbled away through the tufts of thick grass.
‘Kate! Kate! Wait – please!’ There was such desperation in Rosie’s voice that Kate stopped. She did not turn around but stood still until Rosie reached her.
Grasping Kate’s arm, Rosie begged, ‘Please don’t tell me dad, Katie. He’d kill me. But it’s not what you think. Honest. It’s – it’s only a bit of fun.’
‘It looked like it!’ Kate snorted. ‘Danny was right about you . . .’
Rosie’s eyes widened and in them now was a look of sheer terror. ‘Danny? Oh, no – please don’t tell Danny. Please, Kate. I couldn’t bear it if he – if he . . .’
‘If he – what?’ Kate asked quietly.
Rosie’s gaze fell away and her grasp on Kate’s arm loosened. ‘Nothing. I just don’t want you to tell – anyone.’
Kate regarded her thoughtfully. That was understandable she thought reasonably. Yet the thought of Danny knowing of her romping in the sand-dunes had positively terrified Rosie. Kate sighed. ‘All right, I won’t tell anyone, but as long as you promise me you’ll be careful. These lads are lonely and a long way from home, Rosie. They – they might want too much from a pretty girl like you.’
‘It’s only a kiss and a cuddle, Katie, honest,’ Rosie promised.
‘Well – just mind it is.’
As she turned away and left Rosie to go back to her young man, Kate couldn’t help thinking to herself, ‘I sound just like my mother!’
‘Please, Kate,’ Rosie’s plea followed her. ‘Please don’t tell Danny.’
Kate tried to put on a brave front over Christmas for the sake of her family. They were all so pleased to see her – even Lilian hugged her enthusiastically when she opened the page-to-a-day diary Kate had given her as a Christmas gift.
‘It’s lovely, Kate. I always keep a diary and never have enough room to write everything in those little ones . . .’
Kate smiled kindly at her sister; the round, childish glasses gave the young girl an owlish look. Her straight hair was cut short to just below her ears. Lilian would have been the perfect pupil for Miss Denham. Kate couldn’t imagine what Lilian could possibly have to write about that would fill half a page, let alone a whole one. Overcome with a feeling of pity for the lonely young girl, Kate gave her a swift hug.
The Fleethaven Trilogy Page 60
