‘I’m trying to get to Castle Archdale. My husband’s there.’
‘Well, you’d better come on board then. Can’t leave an airman’s missus on the side of the road, can we?’ He jumped down and took her case, nodding for her to follow him to the back of the lorry. ‘Right you lot, shove up,’ he shouted. ‘We’ve got an extra passenger here – a young lady – so mind your Ps and Qs.’
And then there were hands reaching down and pulling her up into the back of the lorry and, as her eyes adjusted to the dim interior, she saw that there were as many as twenty men sitting on the floor. They made room for her and one of the men took off his greatcoat and draped it round her shoulders. At that moment someone began to sing ‘Silent Night’ and, as lorry moved off, the entire contingent joined in.
At the base, the driver dropped off the men and took Irene to the headquarters in the castle, where she waited in the entrance hall while the driver went in search of someone who could help. He returned with an officer who wrote down Sandy’s name, rank and squadron.
‘Can I see him now?’ asked Irene.
‘That might not be possible,’ said the officer. ‘He could be anywhere on the base and if he’s currently on duty he’ll have to remain at his post.’
‘I understand. It’s just that I’ve come from Belfast and I need to see him.’ Irene’s voice cracked with emotion.
The officer stared at her, weighing up her clothes and the battered suitcase. ‘Wait here,’ he said.
He returned five minutes later with a nurse. She was smiling and spoke quietly to Irene.
‘Hello, I’m Ethel, what’s your name?’ she said.
‘Irene, but I’m fine, I don’t need a nurse. I just want to see my husband.’ Irene struggled to keep her voice steady.
‘I know, and someone has been sent to find him. Come on, you can wait with me upstairs in the sick bay.’ As she followed the nurse, the elation Irene had felt when she arrived at Castle Archdale began to seep away to be replaced by an anxiety that made her heart thump. She was cold, too, and by the time they arrived at the sick bay, her teeth were chattering.
‘Goodness,’ said the nurse, ‘how long were you out in the cold?’
‘I don’t know exactly. I got off the bus in Enniskillen about dinnertime and then I started walking—’
‘You walked from Enniskillen!’
‘Not all the way – maybe five miles – then the lorry came by and gave me a lift.’
‘Heavens above, you must be freezing. And you’re expecting, I see. When’s the baby due?’
There was just enough time to say ‘March’ before the nurse put a thermometer into Irene’s mouth. Then she filled a kettle and set it on the little stove in the corner. ‘First things first – we’ll get you a hot drink and into bed with a hot water bottle. Raise your body temperature. I’m sure you’ll want something to eat as well.’
All Irene could do was nod.
In no time at all she was in her night clothes and lying between crisp white sheets with one hot water bottle at her feet and another by her side. The scrambled egg, toast and tea was the best she had tasted in a long time. ‘I’ll check your temperature again in half an hour and maybe Sandy will be here by then too. Now why don’t you just have a wee doze.’
And Irene thought it would heaven to just close her eyes for a while.
It was the noise outside the door that woke her; someone calling her name then raised voices. She was awake immediately and already climbing out of bed when Sandy burst through the door. If she had expected a romantic reunion with her husband after all these months, she was to be disappointed – she could see from his face that he was far from pleased.
‘What are you doing here?’ he said.
‘I’ve come to see you …’ She sounded pathetic.
‘Why didn’t you tell me you were coming, instead of showing up here in the back of a lorry?’
‘They gave me a lift—’
‘They found you on the side of the road in a snowstorm!’
‘I just wanted to see you … I, I needed to …’
Ethel had followed Sandy into the room. Now she stepped between them. ‘Irene get back in bed, please.’ Then she caught Sandy’s arm and said softly, ‘Why don’t you sit down and talk to Irene and I’m sure she’ll explain why she’s here.’
Sandy took a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry, I was told to come to the sick bay. I didn’t know what to expect.’ He turned to Irene. ‘I thought something had happened to you.’
Ethel set a chair next to the bed. ‘Sit down, Sandy. Irene, you should explain how you came to be here. I’ll be outside the door if you need me.’
When Ethel had gone, Irene said simply, ‘I just wanted to be with you. I don’t want to be at home any more.’
Sandy folded his arms and sat back in the chair. ‘Well, you’ve changed your tune. You’ve never wanted to leave Belfast before.’
‘Yes I have – I went to live with you at the Ballyhalbert base, didn’t I?’
‘And how long did that last? Three months? Then when I was posted to England you went straight back home.’
‘I wasn’t going to go to England.’
‘So you didn’t want to be with me then. And I’ve been at this base six months and you made it clear you didn’t want to come here either.’
‘But you said not to come because you were working all the hours God sends.’
‘That’s true, I am, and I’ve to be on duty in half an hour.’ Sandy leaned forward. ‘Irene, if it was possible for you to be here, I would have moved hell and high water to have you with me. But it’s not practical. Even if I could find somewhere for you to stay off-base, I couldn’t look after you properly.’ He stood up. ‘But you know what really upsets me? You just turning up now out of the blue. You didn’t even tell me you were coming. Instead you set off in the middle of winter and ended up at the side of the road. What would have happened if that lorry hadn’t come past?’ He raised his arms in exasperation. ‘God, Irene, you’re five months pregnant. What were you thinking of?’
And the realisation of what she had done and what could have happened struck Irene like a slap on the face. She had been rash beyond comprehension and she shuddered at her recklessness in putting herself and, more importantly, the baby in danger. There was no way to undo what she’d done, but the worst of it was that Sandy didn’t want her either. She turned her face from him. There was nothing more to say.
Martha didn’t often have a lie-in, but that morning after the Christmas night get-together she allowed herself the luxury of turning over in bed to steal an extra hour of sleep. The girls would no doubt linger much longer in their beds knowing that, by the time they got up, their mother would have a good fire going and that Boxing Day breakfast would be an Ulster fry – a rare treat.
Two hours later, Pat came into the kitchen to find her mother sitting at the table, deep in thought. She glanced at the unwashed dishes and the dead fire. ‘Are you all right, Mammy?’ she said.
It was a moment before her mother answered. ‘Hardly,’ was all she said.
‘What do you mean hardly? Are you not well?’
Martha held out the letter. ‘Irene’s gone.’
‘Gone where?’ Pat took the letter and scanned it quickly. ‘Oh, she’s gone to Sandy.’
‘Why on earth would she do that, do you think? How many times has she said she wouldn’t live in the back of beyond on an Air Force base? And now when she’s expecting and needs to be here with her family, she sets off on a dark winter’s morning to travel to the other side of the country. Answer me that.’
‘It’s simple,’ said Pat. ‘She wants to be with her husband.’
‘But to leave now?’
‘Can you not see, Mammy?’
‘See what?’
‘That there’s nothing here for her. Soon she won’t be able to work and, worse, she won’t be singing again for a long time, if at all. Right now, Sandy is what she needs.’
‘No, yo
u’re wrong, Pat. She needs us to take care of her now and once the baby’s born I’ll be able to help her. You need family to bring up a child.’ Martha stood up. ‘I’ve been sitting here thinking about what to do and I’ve decided. I’ll get my things together and go to Enniskillen to make sure she’s safe and to tell her she’s to come home with me.’
‘No, you will not,’ said Pat firmly. Martha opened her mouth to protest, but Pat held up her hand. ‘You will not interfere between Irene and her husband. She’s nearly twenty-five and she can make her own decisions.’
‘But it’s not the right decision. I have to talk to her.’
Martha was close to tears and her daughter’s voice softened. ‘Mammy, let her be. It’s time now to let go.’
And Martha pressed her fingers against her eyelids to stop the tears from falling as she realised that Irene had slipped away, not only from her home, but beyond her mother’s reach.
Chapter 8
Irene slept soundly and woke up around nine when it was just coming light. Her first thought was of all the trouble she had caused and the angry look on Sandy’s face when they had argued the previous night. The thought of making the journey back to Belfast filled her with dread, but there was no way she could stay at Castle Archdale.
By the time Irene had washed and dressed, Ethel had arrived for her shift. ‘How are you feeling today?’ she asked.
‘I’m fine. I’ll get myself ready now and go back to Belfast. What would be the best way to get to Enniskillen to catch the bus?’
‘Now just hold on a minute,’ said Ethel. ‘Don’t you want to stay here?’
‘How can I? Sandy said last night there’d be no quarters for me and anyway he doesn’t want me here.’
‘Ah, but you don’t know what he’s going to say today.’
‘It’ll be no different, I can tell you. He probably won’t want to see me at all.’
‘I think he will,’ said Ethel. ‘I’ve just been talking to him. He’s downstairs waiting for you.’
‘He wants to see me?’
‘Of course he does. You’re not the only one who feels bad about last night. Anyway, he has something to show you. So wrap up warm.’
Sandy was standing in the entrance hall dressed in his Air Force greatcoat talking to an airman; by the flashes on his flying jacket, an American. Irene hesitated and stood a little way off. They were in good humour, laughing and shaking hands, and she felt a rush of pride watching them. Surely with men like these working together, the war would soon be won. What right had she to distract Sandy from the important work of protecting the Atlantic convoys?
The first time she met Sandy on that beach in Stranraer she had thought he was handsome. Seeing him now in his own environment she admired him for his bravery and his honesty and she could not have wished for a better man, or a better father for the child she was carrying. And at that moment she was struck by the depth and intensity of her love. As she watched, the pilot gave Sandy a hearty slap on the shoulder and, with a quick wave, headed for the door. She went to Sandy then and he turned to her, the smile disappearing from his face.
She looked at the floor, overcome with remorse. ‘I’m so sorry for what I’ve done, Sandy, I shouldn’t have come …’
‘Och, Irene, I’m the one who should be sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.’ He put his arms around her and when he spoke his voice was no more than a whisper. ‘It was because I couldn’t bear to think that I might have lost you and the baby.’ He looked down at her, his face full of concern. ‘Tell me you’re all right?’
‘Yes, I’m fine.’
‘Come on, I want to show you something,’ he said. ‘It’s a bit of a walk. Can you manage that?’
Outside the sky was blue and clear and the hardened snow cracked under their feet as they set off from the main buildings and headed down a narrow road bordered by leafless trees. Sandy pointed out the NAAFI and workshops and stores along the way and when they rounded a corner, there in front of them were perhaps twenty planes on a pebbled beach, and beyond them several more bobbing gently in a huge expanse of water that sparkled in the morning sun.
‘What is this place?’ asked Irene.
‘We’re part of Coastal Command. These planes patrol the North Atlantic protecting convoy ships from attack by German U-boats. Without them there would be very few supply ships getting through and we’d have even less food than we do now. That pilot I was talking to just now nearly lost his life last night when there was a problem with his instruments. We guided him down, talked to him and gave directions over the wireless so that he could land in the pitch darkness.’ He pointed to the planes. ‘They’re flying boats – Sunderlands and Catalinas. They take off and land on the lough.’
‘Yes I know,’ said Irene.
‘Of course. Shorts – I should have remembered.’
Irene’s face lit up. ‘The Sunderlands are built in the hangar next to where I work on the Stirling bombers. They’re beautiful, aren’t they?’
‘Yes, but they’re not easy to fly,’ he said, and he took her hand. ‘Come on then, we’ll go down to the jetty, there’ll be a couple taking off soon.’
‘Did you know the Sunderlands are flush-riveted?’ Her eyes lit up. ‘Do you think they’d let me take a look?’ Sandy looked down at her and laughed.
‘You mean that, don’t you?’
‘Of course. It’s my trade.’
‘Know what I think? You’re too pretty to be a riveter.’
As they stood on the jetty, the first of the flying boats lumbered out into the middle of the lough, turned south and roared past them, its engines at full throttle and its fuselage sending out a great plume of spray behind, and Irene watched in awe as it lifted from the water. She had seen them often enough on the ground, but had never imagined what they would look like in action.
The plane made a slow right turn as it climbed, and they watched as it grew smaller in the western sky. The silence it left behind was profound, and neither of them spoke as they retraced their steps to the NAAFI. Then Sandy said, ‘Let’s go in and get warm.’ The sound of conversation and the smell of bacon greeted them as they came into the warmth and one or two airmen called out to Sandy. He waved at them, but didn’t join them. Instead, he led Irene to a table in the far corner.
‘Are you hungry?’ he asked.
‘Starving.’
They ate bacon, egg, sausages and toast, washed down with mugs of scalding tea, and chatted about the base and its British, American and Canadian squadrons. When they’d finished, Irene tried to tell him that she understood the base was bursting at the seams and that the shifts Sandy worked were long and arduous. ‘I had no idea how important this base was and I understand you’re all working round the clock. I shouldn’t have come, I know that now, but I’m so glad I’ve seen you. I’ll go back to Belfast this afternoon so you don’t need to worry about me.’
Sandy leaned across the table and took her hand. ‘I’m not sorry you came. It made me realise how much I’ve missed you.’ He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. ‘What would you say if I told you there might be a way that you could stay?’
Irene’s eyes widened. ‘How?’
‘There’s a place not too far from here. It would just be for you, I’m afraid. I have to stay on the base, but we’d be able to see each other when I get time off. If you like I could take you there now. That is, if you want to see it?’
‘Oh, yes please.’ Irene felt her spirits lift for the first time in months.
Sandy hesitated. ‘Would you be all right to ride pillion?’
‘Of course. How did you find somewhere for me to live?’
‘I didn’t. Your friend Ethel told me about this place.’
They rode for fifteen minutes down a narrow lane until they came to a house set back from the road. ‘Are they expecting us?’ asked Irene.
Sandy was about to answer when the door opened and a girl of about five, with a shock of ginger curls, ran out and
went straight to Irene and took her hand. ‘Hello, I know who you are,’ she said.
‘Do you?’ Irene smiled.
‘Aye, you’re Irene and my name’s Susan. Are you coming to stay with us?’
At that moment a young woman, wearing a wrap-around apron and with a baby on her hip, came to the door. ‘Now, Susan, don’t you be rushing at people,’ she said, and called to Irene and Sandy: ‘You’re very welcome. Come on in.’
The kitchen was cosy and they were met by the smell of fresh soda bread cooling on a rack. In front of the range there was not one but two wooden clothes horses covered in freshly washed nappies. ‘Sit yourself down,’ said the woman and nodded at the battered horsehair settee. ‘You’ll both take a cup of tea in your hand, won’t you?’ While the kettle boiled she told them that her name was Dorothy and she was Ethel’s sister. Her husband was serving in the Royal Inniskilling Fusiliers. ‘God knows where,’ she added. Then she explained how Ethel had come home after her shift the previous night and talked about Irene and how she would have to go back home because there wasn’t a room to be had anywhere.
‘Well, says I to her, sure haven’t we a spare bed upstairs in your room and a wee bit of money for the board and lodging would come in very handy.’
Irene had to listen carefully to catch what Dorothy said in her strong Fermanagh accent.
‘Says she, “Would you not mind if Irene came to stay with us?” “Mind?” I said, “Why would I mind? It’d be great to have some company while you’re off doing your nursing.” Would you like to see the room?’
Dorothy led the way up the steep stairs and the baby, still on her hip, laughed and gurgled at Irene all the way up. ‘He’s a happy baby, isn’t he?’
‘Aye, our wee Johnny has a lovely nature, so he does.’ As if to prove it, the baby kicked his legs in excitement and gave Irene the biggest smile she’d ever seen.
The room was under the eaves, but there was enough space to move around. Along with the two single beds, covered with patchwork quilts, there was a wardrobe and a dressing table.
‘How much would you charge?’ asked Sandy.
A Song in my Heart Page 7
