The Fleethaven Trilogy

by Margaret Dickinson

  ‘Just stand back – and watch!’

  In what seemed an incredibly short space of time, Kate had whipped off the huge wheel and replaced it with the spare.

  ‘Well, well,’ Philip grinned as they got back into the car. ‘You really are a young lady full of surprises. Mind you, if I’d stopped to think for a moment, I should have realized it would have been part of your training,’ and he added with endearing honesty, ‘I suppose part of me can’t get used to the idea of a woman being able to change a huge wheel like that a darn sight quicker than I could.’

  As they bounced over the rough track through the trees back towards the road, Kate giggled as he muttered, ‘But thank goodness you could, else we might have had some awkward explaining to do.’

  When they drove through the gates into the station, with Philip sitting circumspectly in the back seat, she could feel him taking on the mantle of Commanding Officer once more. He seemed to be two people; the serious, dedicated Group Captain who carried the awesome responsibility for the station with strength and yet compassion. And then there was the man she knew when they were alone; the man who loved her and needed her to love him.

  Two days later, he called her into his office. ‘Come in – close the door.’

  She stood before his desk. His face was tired, the lines of weariness etched deeply. ‘I’ve done all I can to find out about Danny.’ He shook his head sadly. ‘But there’s nothing. His plane hasn’t been found and there’s no report of him being a prisoner.’

  ‘Is there anything about any other member of the same crew? Something that might give a clue as to what happened to their plane?’

  Philip shook his head. ‘Nothing. It’s as if they’ve disappeared completely. Still, at least there’s hope. Usually when this happens, it’s that their aircraft has crashed in enemy territory and they’re hiding out with resistance workers. I don’t want you to build up false hopes, though, and I’d advise you not to say anything to his family. Living amongst it, I know you understand better.’

  Kate nodded. ‘Yes, you’re right. And I hope you’re right about Danny too.’

  Philip looked at her solemnly. ‘So do I, Kate. So do I.’

  They spent every possible moment they could together, but it became more difficult as Philip’s responsibilities increased. Now he had three squadrons under his overall command on a station purpose-built for two. Although it was only a temporary measure that one of the East Markham squadrons be housed at Suddaby, nevertheless it threw a strain on the smaller station. Frequently, Philip slept in the little room behind his office, rather than go to his official quarters. He was so committed, Kate thought. He was there at every takeoff and waiting through the long night until every aircraft was back, or at least until those who had not returned were posted ‘missing’. And then he would hunch his shoulders into his coat and return alone to his office to write those awful letters to the families of the missing crews.

  ‘We have a free afternoon off, Kate,’ he whispered from the back seat of the car as they drove out of the gate one morning for a routine visit to Group HQ. ‘A whole four hours with nothing to do. Where shall we go?’

  ‘I don’t know. Where do you want to go?’

  ‘How about you take me to your home? I’d love to see where you live.’

  Kate gasped. ‘Home! But – but do you think we should?’

  Philip shrugged. ‘Why not? We’ll be careful. I won’t hug and kiss you in front of them, though I’d like to.’

  She laughed. ‘But it’s not quite the thing for the Commanding Officer to spend the afternoon with his driver, is it?’

  ‘No, I suppose not.’ He was thoughtful for a moment. ‘Isn’t Fleethaven Point a restricted area?’

  ‘Ye-es. The Army’s got men posted at the Point. There’s a gun emplacement there.’

  ‘Well, then, that’s it. I’ve come to inspect the site officially. Something to do with balloons, if anyone asks. Yes, that’s it.’ The decision made, he sat back in his seat, a self-satisfied look on his face.

  The rule-book out the window once more, Kate thought, and laughing, told him, ‘You’re impossible!’

  In the rear-view mirror she saw him grinning at her.

  ‘Mam, Dad – this is Group Captain Trent. He’s the CO.’

  Philip held out his hand. ‘Pleased to meet you, Mrs Godfrey – Mr Godfrey. Please call me Philip. When we’re away from camp, Kate and I call each other by our Christian names, but we have to be very official on duty.’

  Kate sensed her mother’s eyes upon her and felt the flush of embarrassment creeping up her neck. ‘Careful,’ Kate’s glance said silently to Philip, ‘me mam’s no fool.’ Aloud, she said, ‘Please sit down, sir – I mean, Philip. I’ll just go and see me grandad. Is he up, Mam?’

  ‘Oh aye, he’s up. Fighting fit, he is. He’ll outlive the lot of us.’ Esther busied herself laying cups and saucers on the table.

  Kate turned to leave the living room to go through to the front room, but at that moment the door opened and Will Benson came in. ‘Ah thought I ’eard voices,’ he said, as Kate kissed the white stubble on his chin.

  The introductions were made again and soon Kate began to relax as Philip chatted comfortably with her stepfather and grandfather.

  ‘Well,’ he said at last, standing up, ‘we’d better take a look at the Point, Kate.’

  ‘Ya’ll spoil yar shoes, young feller, traipsing across the sand. Lend him yar boots, Jonathan.’

  When Philip had squeezed his size nine feet into Jonathan’s size eight boots, and Kate had put on her own pair of Wellingtons, they set off down the lane towards the Point. The moment they were out of sight of the farmhouse, Philip pulled her into his arms.

  ‘No,’ she gasped. ‘Someone might come along the lane . . .’ But she found herself returning his kiss, unable to resist him. Once over the Hump, they walked apart again.

  ‘Oh Kate,’ he murmured. ‘All this secrecy, it’s driving me mad. How I wish . . .’

  ‘Kate – Kate!’

  They both looked up to see Rosie hurrying towards them. ‘Have you heard something about Danny?’

  Kate shook her head. ‘Oh, Rosie, I’m sorry, no. This is my commanding officer. We – he’s here on official business.’

  Rosie’s eyes widened fearfully. ‘Not – about Danny?’

  Philip smiled, reassuring her quickly. ‘No, no. We’ve heard nothing. I’m sorry,’ he added, gently sympathetic.

  Rosie’s mouth quivered, but she tried to smile bravely. ‘Oh well, I suppose no news is good news. Have you time to see the baby, Kate?’

  Kate glanced up at Philip, who nodded. ‘May I come too?’

  Shyly, Rosie nodded and led the way into Beth Eland’s cottage.

  As she held Danny’s son, Kate felt Philip looking at her and glanced up to meet his gaze, There was a strange mixture of emotions on his face, but suddenly his jaw hardened and he turned away. ‘I’m sorry, Kate, we must go. Goodbye, Mrs Eland – Rosie,’ he said, courteous as ever although it was evident he wished to be gone from the cottage.

  Swiftly, Kate placed the baby back in Rosie’s arms, kissed her and Beth and followed Philip.

  He was striding ahead of her and she had to run to catch up with him. He walked fast with long, angry strides so that every so often she was obliged to take a little running step to stay by his side.

  Philip neither glanced at her nor spoke to her.

  Whatever is the matter, Kate thought.

  He stood on the sand-dunes, his gaze scanning the coastline and out to sea, then without a word he marched back towards the Hump. They said a brief goodbye to Esther, Jonathan and her grandfather.

  As always in front of others, she opened the car door for Philip to get into the back seat, but even when they were once more driving through the countryside, he made no suggestion that she should pull over so that he could sit beside her in the front.

  They drove all the way back to camp in silence.

  Thirty-Six


  Later that evening, Kate went to Philip’s office. His strange behaviour towards her had distressed her. What had she done to make him ill-tempered? It was so unlike him. He was serious and preoccupied sometimes, but with all his responsibilities she could understand that. This afternoon had been different.

  There was a strip of light showing under the door. Tentatively she knocked, and when bidden, she entered and closed the door behind her. Coming smartly to attention, she saluted.

  ‘Well?’ he barked.

  Her courage almost failed her. ‘Sir – could we – be off duty for a moment?’

  He glared at her and then suddenly groaned and dropped his face into his hands. ‘Oh, Kate, I’m sorry.’

  She was round the desk and kneeling beside him. ‘Whatever was the matter? I couldn’t understand . . .’

  ‘Couldn’t you?’ He raised his head to look at her, a half-smile on his mouth. ‘Just good old-fashioned jealousy, my darling.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘When you were holding the baby – his baby – you were looking down at it with such love in your eyes, as if – as if you were longing that it was yours . . .’ His voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. ‘Yours – and Danny’s.’

  Kate felt a flood of tenderness for him as she cupped his face in her hands and gently lifted his head to make him look at her. ‘Once, that would have been true. But not now, not since – you. Yes, I love that little baby – as my nephew. I still love Danny – and I always will – but in the way I should have done all along, as my brother!’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Really. And that’s because of you. If I hadn’t known you, I would still be clinging to Danny, hating Rosie and probably bitter against a poor, innocent baby. Oh, there’s a tinge of regret and sadness, I admit. You can’t kill the past, obliterate it as if it had never happened. It did happen; Danny and I fell in love before we knew of our relationship and we were devastated. But time and other people – you and Rosie – have helped to heal the wounds. The scars are still there, probably always will be. But now we can, both Danny and me, go forward. In the last few months, I’ve done a lot of growing up.’ She sighed and added musingly, ‘It might sound daft, but – but it was as if I was locked into being a seventeen-year-old, clinging desperately to what might have been. They all tried to tell me – me mam, Dad and even Danny’s mother, but it wasn’t until I – I found I could love someone else that I began to realize and understand that they were right.’

  She sat back on her heels and said softly, ‘There’s only one thing I’m so sad about.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘I may never get the chance to tell Danny all this.’

  Now it was his turn to reassure her. ‘You will. I know you will.’

  ‘Philip, I do love you. I don’t think you’ll ever really understand how much you’ve helped me, and come to mean to me.’

  ‘Oh my dear – do you realize that’s the first time you’ve actually said it?’

  ‘Is it?’ she said in surprise. ‘I hadn’t realized.’ Then she giggled deliciously. ‘But then I always did believe that actions speak louder than words.’

  ‘You’re wicked. Do you know that? Deliciously, gloriously wicked!’

  She was glad to see he was smiling again and that their easy friendship was restored.

  ‘The Yanks are coming, the Yanks are coming,’ Mavis trilled, dancing up and down the hut. ‘Now we’ll show ’em just who’s going to win this war. With our Lancs and their bombers, we’ll really sock it to ’em!’

  Since the attack on Pearl Harbor a few months earlier, Britain had no longer been alone; now she had a powerful ally and everyone was far more optimistic about the eventual outcome. Even so, they all knew the end of the war was still a long way off.

  The weeks turned into months and still there was no news of Danny. As far as his squadron were concerned he became another statistic. Not forgotten, but gone, and there was no time, not yet, for indulging in mourning. There were too many to mourn.

  For the WAAFs the ghosts of the young men lost still haunted the station. ‘Do you remember Jim or Bill or Nick . . .?’ was often whispered in the darkness of the hut. It kept the memories of the brave young men alive and the girls liked to think that their lost friends would be pleased that someone thought of them still.

  ‘CO wants you and the car at his office now.’ The corporal popped her head round the door of the hut.

  ‘Now?’ Kate echoed in surprise.

  The corporal nodded and shrugged. ‘Must be something important for him to be going somewhere this late. You’d better hop to it.’

  Minutes later, Kate pulled up in the staff car outside Philip’s office and opened the back door for him to climb in. She saluted smartly, but he waved her aside and went round and sat in the front passenger’s seat.

  Kate got back into the car. ‘Sir . . .?’

  He was sitting staring straight in front. ‘It doesn’t matter any more, Kate,’ he said quietly. ‘Just drive into the countryside, darling. I have to talk to you.’

  Fear leaped in her breast as she bent and pressed the starter. As they paused at the gate to register their departure, she couldn’t fail to notice the guard’s glance into the car and the slight raising of his eyebrows. But Philip just sat passively beside her.

  What had he meant – it didn’t matter now? Had their affair been found out? Was there trouble brewing for him – and her too? Was this what he wanted to tell her?

  She drove the few miles to their favourite spot. Her hands were clammy with nervousness on the steering-wheel.

  She switched off the engine and half-turned to face him. Slowly he turned to look at her. He seemed to be taking in every tiny detail of her face as if to commit it to memory; as if it was important that he should know every line of it.

  ‘You do know how very much I love you, don’t you, Kate?’ he said at last, his voice deep with emotion.

  Her heart was thumping, beads of sweat standing out on her forehead. ‘Yes,’ she whispered, hoarsely. ‘Whatever is it, Philip? Tell me – please!’

  ‘I – I have to go home . . .’

  ‘Is that all?’ She almost laughed with relief but then it died immediately as she saw him shaking his head.

  ‘I mean – I have to go home – for good.’

  She was silent now, just staring at him in shock.

  He took a deep breath and then let it out slowly in a sigh. ‘Lizzie – my daughter – is critically ill. She – she won’t live longer than a few months.’

  ‘Oh, Philip.’ At once she was all compassion. ‘How dreadful! I’m so sorry.’ The words seemed inadequate, but what else could she say?

  ‘I’m – being posted to a station near home. My-in-laws have pulled strings and got it arranged. I wish they had consulted me first, but I suppose they felt they were helping. For once, Grace really seems to need me . . .’

  She looked into his troubled eyes. With deep intuition she said, ‘And you need to be with her – with Grace – too, don’t you? And with Lizzie?’

  He nodded. ‘But what about you, Kate? I don’t want you to think – I mean I don’t want you to be hurt . . .’ he said, anguished.

  ‘It’s all right,’ Kate said. She heard the words come out of her mouth as if it were someone else speaking; so calm, so understanding. Yet inside, there was a fluttering of panic just below her ribs and her heart was crying out; ‘Not again, oh, not again!’ She wanted to throw herself against him, beg him not to leave her, not to go. But one look at the torment in Philip’s face made her draw on all her reserves of strength for his sake. The poor man was being torn in two. And she did understand what he must be feeling for his daughter. Only a few weeks ago she would not have done so, but to her own amazement, holding Danny’s son in her arms had wrought changes in Kate. There had still been the poignant longing that this child should have been hers – and Danny’s – and yet there had been so much more. So this, she had thought, was what having children
was all about. Holding a tiny, helpless, scrap of humanity in her arms, knowing it was totally dependent on its parents, well, somehow it was sobering and in one moment banished all selfishness.

  And that was what Philip must feel for his child, perhaps even more so for a ‘less than perfect’ mite. She had only ever thought of Grace Trent as a shadowy figure, who, by her devotion to her daughter, had shut Philip out of her life. But now, Kate felt pity for Grace – and pangs of guilt thrust their way through her emotions. She couldn’t let Philip shoulder all the blame or start feeling guilty about her too.

  ‘I knew what I was doing – what I was getting into when we began our affair . . .’ She tried to reassure him.

  She saw him wince. ‘It’s not an “affair”,’ he said harshly. He was angry now and she was surprised how much her words had hurt him. ‘It’s not a sordid affair, Kate.’

  ‘All right, all right.’ She tried to placate him swiftly. ‘I didn’t mean it the way it sounded. Right now, your place is with your wife and little girl. But I’ll wait, Philip. However, long it takes. Just remember I’m here – waiting.’ She touched the back of his hand and he turned it over quickly and grasped her fingers in such a tight grip that it was painful.

  ‘Kate . . .’ he whispered hoarsely. ‘I do love you so very much. Bless you for understanding.’

  ‘I can only guess at what your wife must be going through. You must – be with her.’ Though she was weeping inside, Kate kept her voice strong for Philip’s sake. She wondered if he knew how much it cost her to encourage him to leave.

  ‘Poor Grace,’ he said heavily. ‘It’s not her fault. She’s borne the brunt of looking after Lizzie. Poor little Lizzie. I was so proud and happy the night she was born. I always wanted a daughter . . .’

  ‘It’s no one’s fault, Philip. Please don’t feel so badly.’

  He closed his eyes and groaned deeply. ‘But I do. You’ve been so hurt before and here I am hurting you again.’

  That, Kate thought, she could not deny. ‘You’re hurting too, aren’t you?’ she murmured.