The Fleethaven Trilogy

by Margaret Dickinson

  So Kate was obliged to reply to Danny’s letter explaining the situation. She finished off on a hopeful note. ‘I’ll do my best though – perhaps I could even ask the CO when he comes back on Tuesday.’

  That night as they lay in bed after lights out, Kate was still trying to work out how she was going to wangle some leave to coincide with Danny’s. She lay in her narrow bed, feeling the ridges of the three-section ‘biscuit’ mattress beneath her and staring up with sleepless eyes into the blackness of the rafters. She listened to the steady breathing of the other girls; a cough here, a gentle snore, a murmur there.

  Then, above her head she heard a scuffling noise. A noise that was familiar to her and reminded her sharply of home.

  In the darkness, Kate smiled.

  She didn’t remember falling asleep, but she awoke with a start to a piercing scream.

  Immediately, pandemonium broke out.

  ‘What’s the matter?’

  ‘Is it an air-raid?’

  ‘There’s a feller in here – must be!’

  The door opened and the corporal flashed her torch around the hut. Isobel was standing on her bed shrieking, clutching her nightdress to her.

  ‘Cartwright. Stop that noise at once.’

  But the noise did not stop, if anything, the pitch heightened. Isobel was clearly genuinely terrified.

  Kate swung her legs out of bed. On bare feet she padded across the wooden floor. Calmly she said, ‘May I borrow your torch a mo, Corp?’

  Handing it over, the officer said, ‘Do you know what’s the matter with her, Hilton?’

  ‘I’ve a good idea.’

  Kate left the room for a moment to delve in the cupboard outside the corporal’s room. Now some of the other girls were getting decidedly nervous. ‘Kate, bring the light back.’

  ‘Won’t be a minute. Hang on. Ah, here it is.’

  She returned brandishing a broom. ‘Now then, mester, let’s be ’aving ya.’

  ‘Heavens! Is it a man?’ Mavis’s voice broke in comically. ‘I was only joking – at least I thought I was!’

  ‘Let’s just say it’s an unwelcome visitor.’

  ‘Something – fell – on my bed and,’ Isobel stuttered ‘and – ran across my legs!’

  Kate turned the torch beam to the roof and ran the beam of light along the rafters. ‘Ah,’ she smiled her triumph. ‘There you are, Mester Rat!’

  The whole room erupted in screams. All the girls were now standing on their beds, pressing themselves back against the wall, staring with horrified eyes at the little creature crouching on one of the rafters, its bright eyes shining in the light from the torch. To Kate’s amusement, even the corporal took a flying leap on to the nearest bed, nearly knocking the occupant off the other side.

  Kate marched towards it and banged the rafter with the broom. The rat scuttled along the beam to the edge of the room, and the girl on the bed beneath squealed, jumped to the floor and leapt on to her neighbour’s where bed they clung together, turning frightened eyes upwards.

  ‘He’s far more frightened of us than we are of him,’ Kate said.

  Mavis snorted. ‘Wouldn’t bank on that, Kate. Get rid of the bloody thing.’

  Kate grinned. Mavis rarely swore. In fact few of the girls ever used bad language; the use of it now showed just how terrified they were.

  The rat dropped to the floor and ran under the nearest bed. Kate pushed her broom underneath and the animal ran out the other side. Then it ran the full length of the hut.

  ‘Open the door, Corp. It’ll run out.’

  ‘Not likely. I’m staying here.’

  ‘Well, if I come down there,’ Kate said reasonably, ‘it’ll run back this way.’

  ‘Well, where is it now?’ the corporal asked quaveringly.

  ‘Under the bed opposite where you are.’

  ‘But it might come out when I get on the floor.’

  ‘It won’t come for you. They don’t come for you unless they’re really cornered.’

  ‘Well, for heaven’s sake don’t corner the bloody thing!’ put in Mavis.

  The corporal was stepping gingerly off the bed, clutching her nightclothes closely to her. ‘J-just bring that broom up here, Hilton.’

  ‘I’ve told you, if I come any nearer it’ll start to run again. Look, Corp, just do it, will you?’

  On bare feet the corporal tiptoed towards the door, her eyes fixed on the point where the rat might emerge from under the bed. The occupant of the bed was standing on it, peering with terrified eyes over the edge, convinced the animal would take a flying leap at her.

  ‘Where is it?’ she quavered.

  ‘Keep quiet,’ Kate ordered, ‘else you’ll frighten it.’

  Mavis smothered an hysterical giggle. ‘We’ll frighten it! That’s a laugh.’

  ‘Ssh!’ The rest of the girls hissed.

  The door was open and the corporal had never moved so fast in her life back to the safety of the nearest bed.

  ‘And the outer one, Corp.’

  ‘Oh, I can’t, Hilton,’ she wailed. ‘Really I can’t.’

  Kate sighed. ‘Is the door to your room open?’

  ‘Oh Lor’!’ the corporal squeaked. ‘Yes. I left it open when I came flying in here to find out what all the racket was about.’

  ‘That’s why I want you to open the outer door,’ Kate said reasonably. ‘Oh, never mind, I’ll do it myself.’

  But as she moved down the room the rat ran out from under the bed. It came to the middle of the floor, stopped and turned wicked eyes upon Kate. It was a huge, brown mangy-looking creature. The frightened girls were whimpering, but clapping their hands over their mouths to keep from screaming out loud. Out of the corner of her eye, Kate saw Isobel slither down the wall on to her bed. ‘Mavis – see to Cartwright. She’s about to pass out,’ Kate said in a matter-of-fact tone.

  The rat was on the move again.

  It ran first to the right, then to the left, and then seemed to become aware of the open door and went towards it.

  ‘It’s gone into your room, Corp. I thought it would.’

  There was another wail from the corporal.

  ‘It’s all right, we’ll soon have him out now.’

  And she did. Having opened the outer door, it was a comparatively simple task to shoo the offending animal out into the night.

  It took some time for them all to settle back to try to sleep, for they all insisted that Kate should scour the hut with her torch light to ensure there were no more unwelcome visitors.

  By morning Isobel had regained her composure and was on the defensive. ‘You enjoyed that last night, Hilton, didn’t you? You actually enjoyed seeing us all squirm.’

  Slowly Kate straightened up from bending over to make her bed to meet Isobel’s resentful gaze. She was standing at the foot of the bed glaring at Kate.

  Time seemed to take a tilt and, for a fleeting moment, Kate was once more the child in the cold, unfriendly dormitory facing the scathing expression of Isobel Cartwright.

  Not this time, you don’t, Kate thought. ‘Yes, Cartwright,’ she said quietly. ‘There are people in this world who enjoy teasing others, seeing them squirm, as you put it.’ As she was speaking, Kate opened the top drawer of her locker at the side of the bed and reached in. Her fingers closed over the wrinkled roundness of the whelk shell. Without taking her eyes off Isobel’s face, she lifted it out and placed it in full view on top of the locker. ‘Normally,’ she went on softly, ‘I’m not one of them.’

  Kate saw Isobel’s glance flicker towards the shell and become fixed upon it. She watched as a deep red flush crept up the girl’s neck and suffused her face.

  Isobel’s voice was a strangled whisper. ‘It is you!’ They stared at each other, then Isobel said slowly. ‘You said you’d get your own back one day, didn’t you?’

  Kate nodded, her gaze holding the other girl’s relentlessly.

  ‘Do . . .’ Isobel began and then bit her lip. They were both aware that their conv
ersation was being listened to with interest now by one or two of the others. ‘ . . . I mean . . .’ Isobel was still struggling, but Kate waited, saying nothing. She was not a vindictive girl, but Isobel’s taunts had cut deeply all those years ago and in the few days they’d been together again, Kate could see that Isobel had hardly changed. Her unkind attitude towards poor Edith had proved that.

  She saw Isobel take in a deep breath. ‘Would you agree to call it quits and – and make a fresh start . . .’ Again she hesitated and then added, deliberately, ‘ . . . Kate?’

  Kate picked up the shell, put it back in its place and closed the drawer. ‘Suits me . . . Isobel.’

  She guessed that Isobel found it hard to apologize or even to admit she had been in the wrong, but the expression in the girl’s eyes and her muttered ‘Thanks,’ were enough for Kate. For her, one of the ghosts from the past had been confronted and laid to rest.

  Two days later, Mavis said, ‘D’you know, Kate, I think m’Lady Isobel is really starting to get the hang of things. She’s really trying.’

  ‘Very trying, I should think,’ Kate laughed.

  As they stacked their beds ready for kit inspection, Mavis asked, ‘Er, what was all that about the other morning between you and her?’

  ‘Oh, just a – a misunderstanding we had a while back. Best forgotten now.’

  At that moment, saving Kate from having to answer more awkward questions, the door opened and the subject of their conversation came in, rubbing her hands together. ‘Does this awful place have to be so cold? It must be freezing point in these huts.’

  She walked the length of the hut, flapping her arms around herself, and came to stand close to the stove. ‘How you can bear to sleep under that window, Kate, beats me.’

  ‘I always liked to be able to see out,’ Kate murmured, remembering the high, barred windows of the school dormitory. She glanced at Isobel, but the girl was touching the grey stove. ‘It’s cold!’ she accused. ‘Isn’t it even lit?’

  ‘Nope,’ Mavis said. ‘Not allowed to light it till five o’clock tonight.’

  Isobel clicked her tongue against her teeth in exasperation and wrapped her arms around herself, tucking her hands under her armpits.

  ‘We could go out and drill,’ Mavis suggested impishly.

  ‘No thanks,’ Isobel replied shortly. She seemed about to move away and then hesitated and stopped. Her head dropped forward, her eyes downcast, she traced an imaginary pattern on the floor with the toe of her shoe. Without looking up and in a tone quite unlike her normal complaining voice, Isobel said, ‘Mavis, I’m very grateful for your help in the Control Room.’

  ‘Eh?” Mavis gawped at the bent head.

  ‘Don’t make me repeat it,’ Isobel snapped, her tone returning to normal almost immediately. ‘It’s embarrassing enough for me to say it once!’

  ‘Oh – er – yes.’ Mavis was floundering, her plump cheeks turning pink. ‘Well – you don’t need to say anything, Isobel. We all help each other.’

  ‘Well,’ Isobel said, slightly mollified. ‘I just wanted you to know I appreciate it, that’s all.’

  Kate listened to the interchange in amazement. Was Isobel Cartwright actually beginning to behave like a human being?

  Mavis, still embarrassed, glanced towards the door as it opened and several girls came in, Edith amongst them. With relief at being given the chance to change the subject, Mavis called, ‘What’s the weather like, Edith? Is this fog going to lift?’

  Edith came towards them, shaking her head. ‘No. It looks like it’s here for a couple of days at least. All aircraft are grounded. There won’t be any operations and,’ she smiled and Kate thought immediately how pretty Edith was when she lost her frightened-mouse look, ‘ . . . there shouldn’t be any air-raids from the other side either.’

  ‘Oh, Edith – you clever old thing!’ Kate clapped her hands. Edith’s cheeks were pink with pleasure as if she were being given the credit for having personally arranged the blanket of fog that lay over the strangely silent airfield. During the last few weeks, the girl had blossomed. Her short hair now gleamed glossily and curled prettily around her face which was not so white and pinched. She was still shy, but thanks to the efforts of Kate and Mavis, she was now included in all the activities and the humiliation surrounding her arrival was forgotten.

  ‘She’s not the only one to get nits!’ Mavis had said in her blunt, matter-of-fact manner. ‘My mother travelled home from London once in a filthy railway carriage and somehow, she got ’em. She nearly went mad! You should have seen us – she had us washing our hair every day for a fortnight – the whole family. Me dad threatened to shave his all off, if she carried on.’ Mavis guffawed at the memory.

  Isobel had said nothing, but even she made no more sarcastic remarks to Edith, and whilst she made no effort to befriend the girl, she made no objections when Mavis and Kate included Edith in what was fast becoming a foursome.

  ‘So are we all getting a forty-eight-hour?’ Isobel drawled now at the news.

  ‘No – but almost as good as.’ Mavis’s eyes sparkled.

  ‘Come on, Mave,’ Kate said, ‘we can see you’re dying to tell us something.’

  ‘The lads said if the fog didn’t lift, they’d put on a dance in the Officers’ Mess tomorrow night and we’re all invited.’

  There were whoops of delight and even Isobel’s eyes gleamed.

  ‘Back to earth, girls,’ someone shouted from the end of the hut near the door. ‘Stand by your beds. They’re coming – kit inspection!’

  As Isobel moved across to her own bed, she murmured, so that only Kate could hear, ‘Have they got their rulers and scissors at the ready? Should we kneel down, do you think?’

  Kate spluttered with laughter and Isobel gave her a rare, wide smile. Kate was still trying to stifle her giggles as the NCO and corporal entered the hut, but Isobel stood at the end of her bed, cool, calm and in complete control of her features.

  ‘Shut up, Kate,’ Mavis hissed. ‘You’ll get us all on a fizzer and then there’ll be no dance in the Officers’ Mess for any of us!’

  She would never have believed it possible, Kate thought later, that she could have been laughing so uncontrollably over memories of St Mary’s School for Young Ladies! And with – of all people – Isobel Cartwright!

  *

  As the four of them entered the Mess the following evening, Mavis gasped. ‘It’s like Christmas!’

  The large room had been decorated with trimmings and balloons and at one end, on a raised dais, seven officers were setting up their musical instruments.

  Mavis nudged Kate. ‘Dave was telling me about them trying to get a band together. I say, he’s a bit of all right on the drums, isn’t he?’

  ‘Really, Mavis – what about Dave?’

  Mavis smiled. ‘Oh, he’ll do for me all right, but I was thinking about you.’

  ‘Thanks very much – I can find me own fellers, ta!’

  The newly formed band struck up, slightly hesitant at first, and then from the floor a young fair-haired Pilot Officer jumped up on to the dais and began to conduct. With more confidence, the players swung into ‘We’re going to hang out the washing . . .’ The room began to fill and soon couples were moving on to the area cleared as a dance-floor.

  Soon the girls, outnumbered by the men, were never without a partner. Kate found herself dancing with a tall, dark-haired man who danced woodenly round the floor, not speaking and holding her almost at arm’s length. As they danced close to the dais, the fair-haired conductor jumped down and cut in. “Scuse me, mate . . .’ and Kate found herself looking up into his eyes as he took her hand and put his arm around her waist. ‘Hello, there. My name’s Sandy. What’s yours, pretty WAAF?’

  ‘K-Kate,’ she gasped from surprise and now breathlessness too, for they were jigging round the floor at twice the speed of her previous pedestrian partner. ‘What – what about the band?’

  ‘Oh, they’ll survive ten minutes without going to pie
ces completely.’

  ‘Are you their conductor?’

  ‘Not officially. I’ve done a bit in my time and I could see they needed a hand.’ He grinned as he added, ‘Literally!’

  Kate laughed and shook back her hair which tonight she had left long.

  ‘Has anyone ever told you you’ve got the most beautiful hair?’ Sandy said.

  ‘Oh, frequently,’ she responded lightly, and although she did not resist when the band began to play ‘Over the Rainbow’ and Sandy pulled her into his arms again and rested his cheek against her hair, she could not help thinking, ‘If only Danny could hold me like this’.

  Then resolutely she pushed the thought of Danny Eland from her mind. Sandy seemed a nice boy with his open, honest face and laughing eyes. She’d seen him once or twice around camp when he’d given her a cheeky wink. Perhaps he could be the one to help her forget? Deliberately, she snuggled closer into his arms, closed her eyes and tried to let the soft, dreamy music engulf her.

  On Tuesday evening when Kate parked the staff car and went into the station to meet Philip Trent, she found that his train from York had been delayed by an air-raid warning.

  ‘I haven’t a clue when it’ll get here, Miss,’ the ticket-office clerk told her, shrugging indifferently. ‘It’s getting harder and harder to keep to any sort of timetable these days. Trains come and trains go, Miss, that’s all I can promise. But when – now that’s a different matter.’

  Kate pulled a face and then smiled at him. It wasn’t this poor man’s fault that the war was disrupting all his carefully planned timetables. It must be a nightmare for the railway staff at times, she thought. ‘Well, thanks anyway. I’d better hang around. I wouldn’t like to be missing when it does get here.’

  The man pointed. ‘There’s a waiting room there and you might just wangle a cup of tea from the ladies over there.’

  Kate turned to see that a train had just pulled into the station and a tidal wave of khaki was flowing on to the platform as troops spilled off the train. Set against the wall at the rear of the platform was a long trestle-table on which were numerous cups and a huge tea-urn. Behind the table two women in WVS uniform dispensed tea to the soldiers.