The Shadow of War

by Jack Murray

  The price of survival was guilt.

  -

  Two days later the forge had a visitor. Lord Henry Cavendish walked in through the open door. Danny was back at work; he wouldn’t have it any other way. Nor would Stan, to be fair.

  Henry looked at Danny for a moment. Danny seemed to have changed physically. His wide frame had now filled out a little with muscle. There was also something else. It wasn’t physical. Danny had never lacked for confidence even with the Cavendish family. Now there was an air about him. If Henry had been forced to put a name to it, he would have called it responsibility. The attractive impudence remained, but this was now allied to, even supported by, a sense of duty. Henry was surprised by how unsurprised he was by this. Already he could see how inevitable it was that he would be promoted again and again. He had an air of leadership. He always had. Henry smiled at Danny and felt a strange emptiness at the thought of what this young man, he had watched grow, would soon be asked to face.

  ‘Lord Cavendish,’ said Danny, stumped as to what else to say.

  ‘Hello, Danny. They told me you were back. Sorry I wasn’t around the last couple of days. Had to go to the factory.’

  ‘I saw Mr Curtis yesterday. He told me you’d gone to Lincoln. I hope everything’s all right?’

  ‘It is, thank you. The government have made some special requests of me. Apparently one of my plants can be converted to help the war effort. I can’t say much more but I had to oversee the changes with a man from the Ministry. Anyway, I wanted to see if your family could spare you for an evening. We’d love you to dine with us up at the Hall. Could you come in your uniform, Danny?’

  Danny smiled and replied, ‘Yes, sir.’

  Henry left the forge. Danny looked at his father. Stan removed his pipe and said, ‘You’re going nowhere until you’ve finished those damn horseshoes.’

  Danny rolled his eyes, picked up the hammer and said sardonically, ‘Yes, sir.’

  -

  Jane Cavendish met Danny in the entrance hall, her eyes crinkling in a smile when she saw the uniform. A tear, also. ‘It’s wonderful to see you again. You look so handsome.’

  ‘I always did, sure,’ replied Danny, causing Jane to burst out into laughter.

  ‘Lost none of your cheek, I see.’

  ‘The army will never take that,’ grinned Danny.

  ‘I’m sure your family and friends will be happy to know that. Proud, too, I imagine.’

  In fact, Danny’s remaining friends in the village had all been delighted by his return and had indicated this in the good-natured abuse hurled in his direction.

  Jane led Danny into the drawing room, where he found Henry Cavendish along with Bob and Beth Owen. This was the first time he’d seen Beth since their departure and the evidence of motherhood was all too clear.

  ‘Beth,’ exclaimed Danny and immediately went to hug her. ‘What happened to you?’

  ‘You have your friend to blame,’ replied Beth, much to everyone’s amusement.

  Henry then shook Danny’s hand warmly and handed him a drink. It looked like it would be the five of them. Danny felt a twinge of disappointment. It would have been nice to see Robert and Sarah.

  ‘I’m afraid Robert’s still at school. He’ll be pretty miffed at missing you all. He talks of nothing else when he’s back. A proper little general.’

  ‘I hope it’s all over by the time he leaves,’ commented Danny.

  ‘I couldn’t agree more,’ replied Jane. ‘I’m just sorry so many of you will have such a dreadful weight to carry.’

  The impact of the war was obvious on the dinner. No longer was it the banquet of times past. However, Elsie still managed to excel herself with a meat pie and honeyed vegetables. The conversation was mainly of the impending arrival of baby Owen. The topic of war was avoided for the most part, a tacit pact among the men. However, the subject could not be avoided for a whole evening. At the end of the meal, Beth was driven back to her cottage just outside the village and the men retired to the drawing room for a night cap.

  As Henry poured the drinks, he asked, ‘I have to admit, chaps, I’m under strict instructions from Robert to find out as much as possible about your training. I hope you don’t mind.’

  ‘Of course not,’ laughed Danny. For the next twenty minutes, Danny happily took Henry through the events and activities of the previous few months. Bob said little but managed to make a few gentle jokes at Danny’s expense, which amused the target as much as Henry.

  When Danny had finished, Henry said, ‘I won’t ask where you’re likely to be posted but I think I can guess.’

  Danny and Bob exchanged glances. Thankfully Bob seemed to be more in control of his emotions. The fears of the last few months had not been apparent over the evening. The presence of Beth had perhaps acted to reassure and concentrate his mind on the job to be done. At least Danny hoped this was the case. Danny knew there would always be the mask he showed the world. The way he felt would exist, necessarily, one step removed from everyone’s view. The doubts, the fears and the insecurities he felt would always be sublimated. His duty would be a shield. Bob would be the same. He would present to the world a version of himself that the world wanted to see. Danny hoped, both for him and for Bob, that when the time came, this version would win out over the true self.

  ‘I imagine it will be hotter than England,’ said Bob, with an attempt at a smile.

  The evening was drawing to a close. Henry led the two men to the door. They were met there by Jane once more. Offers of a lift back to their houses were respectfully declined.

  They stepped out into the night. The chill of winter was creeping into October through the nights. Walking down the path, Danny turned to look back at Cavendish Hall. He saw Sarah at the window of the library. Danny stopped momentarily. Then he nodded. She waved then, moments later, she was gone.

  Danny turned to walk again but saw Bob looking at him strangely.

  ‘You’re playing a dangerous game there, my lad,’ said Bob softly. For the first time the hunted look was no longer in Bob’s eyes. Instead, Danny saw his friend again. Someone who cared about him, who would fight in his corner, who had his interests at heart.

  Danny shook his head, ‘There’s nothing going on. She’s too young.’

  ‘Be careful, Danny. They’re good people but they’re different.’

  ‘Jane Cavendish was one of us,’ pointed out Danny, more defensively than he would have liked.

  ‘Jane Cavendish was the most beautiful girl in the county apparently. Still is, looking at her tonight.’

  Along with her daughter, thought Danny. Bob, sensing further conversation on the topic of Sarah Cavendish would be unwelcome, wisely began to talk of other matters.

  ‘Do you want to travel down together?’ asked Bob.

  ‘No, Bob, I want to have another night in London. I’ll leave day after tomorrow.’

  They parted at Danny’s with a handshake and a warmth that had had been missing for a number of months.

  5

  London, April 1941

  It was early afternoon. Rather than go to Arthur’s house, Danny had decided to stay at the hotel on Piccadilly. He stepped into the foyer and asked for a single room. A few minutes later he was in a small, sparsely furnished room. It felt like luxury to him. The bed was softer than he was used to. Initially this felt decadent, but he soon realised that he preferred a more spartan arrangement. He rose from the bed after a few minutes to freshen up. The water was cold against his skin and acted as a shock to his system. It woke him up after the early start he’d had in the morning that had begun with a lift from the farmer, George McIver, into Lincoln.

  Piccadilly Circus was anarchy in Danny’s view. So many people, the big red buses, the cars and the horns tooting at pedestrians running across the road. Danny shook his head and laughed. It seemed another world. He looked up at the big signs advertising Bovril, Wrigley’s and Guinness. His heart swelled in pride. The feeling that he had experienced back h
ome with his family in the valley overlooking the village coursed through him now. His thoughts turned to Sarah Cavendish but, hard as he tried, he could not dismiss her image from his mind. His job had become clear to him when it had previously seemed abstract. He realised it was now more than a job. It was his duty.

  With a final brush of his hair, he left the room and bounded down the threadbare stairs to the street. Danny made his way towards the Strand with the intention of returning to Simpson’s. As he walked into the restaurant, he saw Abby. She looked for a moment in confusion at the smiling soldier. Then recognition dawned on her. She smiled and walked over to him.

  ‘Hello, stranger.’

  Danny followed her to a seat near the window. The restaurant was quieter now as luncheon had finished. Danny ordered the same sandwich dish as previously. Abby made frequent visits to him and they chatted for as long as was possible. When he finished his meal and paid, he walked over to Abby who stood at the exit holding his coat.

  ‘Are you still able to teach me how to dance?’

  ‘Yes,’ smiled Abby. ‘What did you have in mind?’

  ‘I read that Al Bowlly is playing at the Trocadero tonight in Elephant and Castle. Would you like to go there?’

  ‘I’d love to. It’s quite near where I live. I can meet you there. What time?’

  ‘Is eight early enough?’

  -

  Danny spent the next few hours walking around the city. The barrage balloons overhead blocked out what little sun there was. Thankfully, the rain held off. The afternoon grey became a bayonet-black night. The moon was hidden beneath a dark shroud. Danny wondered if this would encourage enemy aircraft. He hadn’t seen any today. Over the last couple of months, the frequency of attacks had decreased. The Battle of Britain long since won. He certainly hoped so.

  An hour later, Danny walked out of the tube station at Elephant and Castle. He headed out onto the street and asked directions to the Trocadero. It was still too early to meet Abby. There was a pub near the station. Perfect place to kill time, thought Danny. He popped in and ordered a half pint. He still wasn’t a big drinker. Quite a few of the lads in the battalion were. He avoided them. It was evens they would end up in a fight when they went out for a night.

  The bar was crowded, noisy and dark. There was a sense of violence about it, too. He regretted his decision to enter but he still had an hour to kill. There were no seats, so he stayed at the bar and nursed his drink. A few people chatted to him. Finally, he drained the rest of his drink and made for the exit.

  Back outside in the cold, he saw that there was still another forty minutes to kill. Just then, a siren began to wail. He looked up. The sky was garnished with white puff balls. Somewhere behind the clouds was the drone of something malevolent. Danny sprinted for the tube station as people streamed out of the pub.

  A human flood poured down the steps of the tube station, headed for the platforms below. There were a few servicemen around also: Army, Navy and RAF. Danny joined a bunch of them on the platform.

  ‘When is the train due?’ he asked with a grin.

  The group laughed and opened up to let him stand with them. The RAF man answered, ‘Blasted things are never on time.’ His accent was definitely not local.

  ‘I haven’t seen one of theirs in a while now,’ said Danny motioning his head upwards. ‘You blokes did a great job.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said the airman. ‘Dick Manning,’ said the airman, holding out his hand.

  ‘Shaw, Danny Shaw.’

  The rest of the servicemen introduced themselves. They spoke in low voices to avoid being heard. Manning was shorter than Danny but well made. He had a casual confidence like Danny that the other boys in the group did not seem to have. In fact, they seemed in awe of the airman.

  It was clear they were all on embarkation leave. Although none would admit as much, they were probably destined to be heading in the same direction. Airmen were increasingly being sent to patrol the Mediterranean as Britain built up its strength for the North African campaign.

  Danny glanced at his watch. It was now after eight. Manning noticed Danny’s frustration.

  ‘On a promise, old fellow?’

  Danny laughed, ‘I wouldn’t go that far. I was meant to meet someone at the Trocadero around eight.’

  ‘Don’t worry, it’ll be over soon. In fact, we should be out any time now. They’re probably just checking there aren’t any afters.’

  Manning’s prediction proved to be accurate and soon they were ascending the stairs. Danny walked up with Manning. He turned to the airman and said, ‘Where are you from. You don’t sound like a Londoner.’

  ‘Nor do you, old chap,’ laughed Manning, which made Danny laugh. ‘In point of fact, I am from London. Just not this part. How about you?’

  ‘Lincolnshire,’ replied Danny. ‘We’re heading out soon. Thought I might make the most of seeing the big city. I hope she shows up. I was looking forward to seeing Al Bowlly Where are you going now?’

  ‘Same as you, old boy. I’m going to see Al Bowlly, too. Not sure I’ll be able to see him for a while.’

  Danny nodded but didn’t enquire further. Instead he said, ‘Maybe you can join us, Dick.’

  ‘I’d love to. My girl is meant to be outside.’

  ‘I hope it isn’t the same one,’ laughed Danny, as they stepped out onto the dark street. The windows were all blacked out and the streetlights had not yet been lit. Danny looked around him and shook his head.

  ‘I don’t know how people have put up with it.’

  ‘No choice. It’ll be a while, too. This isn’t going to be over by Christmas.’

  The two men walked along the Old Kent Road towards the theatre, chatting companionably. The Trocadero soon came into view, an enormous red-brick building with long windows streaking the façade like tears down a face. The name of the theatre sat just above the windows. There were still no lights. However, lots of people were milling around outside and some even going in. Danny spied Abby and waved. Another young woman nearby also waved in their direction. If Abby was attractive, this young woman was like a Hollywood star.

  Danny glanced wryly at his new friend.

  ‘In my next life, I’m going to be an airman.’

  Manning laughed good naturedly.

  ‘There are some advantages, I’ll grant you.’ He lit a cigarette and offered one to Danny before they separated to meet their respective dates.

  ‘No thanks, never liked them. See you inside.’

  Danny walked over to Abby and smiled, ‘Thought Adolf was going to put paid to our night.’

  Abby laughed, ‘Take more than a pipsqueak like him.’ She took his arm and they went inside, down a wide staircase with red felt carpet. On first sight there was a large stage but no dance floor. Instead it was a theatre with seats. This was a disappointment.

  He looked at Abby and said, ‘I thought there would be a dance floor, sorry.’

  ‘We’ve got the aisle, haven’t we?’ replied Abby with a smile.

  They were among the first to arrive and Danny picked out seat near the front and on the aisle. They sat down and Danny asked Abby if she wanted a drink. Just then he saw Manning with his date and waved at them. Moments later they were all together.

  ‘Abby, this is Dick Manning, we just met down at the tube station during the air raid.’

  Manning shook hands with Abby and introduced his date, Clare. The two ladies were soon chatting away as they stood by their seats. The sound of the orchestra told them that the show was to begin so they sat down.

  It was a variety show. The first few acts were lucky to be bottom of the bill. A comedian with jokes older than music hall and a juggling unicyclist had Danny’s group rolling their eyes. Finally, the orchestra began to play a series of popular melodies. After a few minutes, a diminutive figure carrying a guitar stepped onto the stage to loud applause.

  Al Bowlly turned to the orchestra and acknowledged them. Danny felt a shiver of excitement. He’d listen
ed to Al Bowlly on the radio for many years. Now, at last, he would get to hear him in the flesh. He was struck by how small he was. However, there was no denying his charisma. Jet black, slicked back hair, intensely dark eyes and a swarthy complexion that was unquestionably romantic, certainly if the reactions of the two ladies were anything to go by.

  The singer put his fingers onto the guitar. He picked a few chords and then struck three oddly discordant notes. The orchestra joined at this point as Bowlly began to sing:

  Goodnight sweetheart,

  All my prayers are for you

  Goodnight sweetheart,

  I’ll be watching on you

  Danny felt a glow as Bowlly’s velvet voice caressed each line. This was one of Danny’s favourite songs. His hand was now holding Abby’s and he felt her grip tighten. The lines of the song were having an effect. The only disappointment for him was he couldn’t take Abby to dance. Popular song followed popular song and Danny’s enjoyment continued to be bittersweet. He glanced from time to time at Abby. She was enjoying the performance every bit as much as he was.

  The second half of the show saw an equally mixed bag of acts but there was no question, everyone was waiting for the return of the South African crooner. His reappearance was greeted rapturously. This time there was no stopping Danny and Abby as well as other like-minded members of the audience. Couples found any available square inch of space they could to dance.

  The show ended with a performance of J’Attendrais, the hit song by Charles Trenet. All too soon, they were back out into the chill night air. It was nearing midnight, too late to go anywhere when Danny and Abby said goodbye to Dick Manning and his date. There was no point in trying to keep in touch. The two men’s parting was wordless, a nod of the head and a sympathetic grin.

  ‘I’ll walk you back,’ offered Danny.

  Abby glanced at him but saw that he was merely being a gentleman. She took his arm and they walked along the street, just one couple amongst dozens. All clinging onto to one another like survivors to the wreckage. The blackness of the night was familiar to Danny, but Abby still hadn’t become used to the lack of light. She was glad Danny was walking alongside her. From time to time she looked up at him. He was younger than her, but he had the looks and build of a young Douglas Fairbanks.