Wings of the Morning

by Beryl Matthews

  Thankfully the hut was empty and Annie sat on her bunk and allowed the tears to flow unchecked. Perhaps she should have married Paul at the beginning of the war and given him a short time of happiness? But it was useless to agonize over that now – he was dead and nothing could change that. She pulled his photograph out of her bag, clutched it to her and wept.

  After about an hour Annie blew her nose and splashed cold water on her face, once more back in control. She had work to do and her sorrow would have to be controlled, then she would write a letter to Paul’s parents. They must be devastated.

  She sat on the edge of the bed again, giving herself a few more moments before returning to the ops room. So that had been Reid, the arrogant devil. And that wasn’t the first time she had seen him. He had been the airman she’d seen during the evacuation of Dunkirk. She hadn’t been sure until she’d got close enough to see the scar on his forehead, and that had confirmed he was the same man.

  Annie remembered how she had seen him looking hurt and slightly bewildered on the quay, and had wanted to go and help him, but now she was glad she hadn’t.

  The objectionable man didn’t deserve any help or sympathy.

  16

  Annie dropped a golden rose on to the coffin as it was being lowered and said a silent, heartbreaking farewell to Paul. It was almost impossible to grasp that she wouldn’t see him again. She was going to miss him dreadfully. She felt so guilty that she hadn’t been able to love him in the way he’d wanted.

  Annie shivered; it was early October and felt more like the middle of winter, with overcast skies and a nasty wind whipping around the graveside. It seemed to have changed from summer to winter in one week, almost as if the weather was as angry and distressed as she felt at the terrible waste of young lives. Paul had loved life …

  His mother touched her arm. ‘Will you come back to the house with us?’

  ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Lascells, but I have to get back and my train leaves in an hour.’

  The woman smiled sadly. ‘I understand, but thank you for coming, and for the lovely letter you sent us. We drew great comfort from it.’

  Annie was relieved to hear that because it had been the most difficult thing she had ever tried to write. It had taken four attempts before she’d felt able to post it, and even then it had seemed so inadequate.

  ‘Yes, we did.’ Mr Lascells kissed her on the cheek. ‘If you can’t stay then let me drive you to the station.’

  ‘No, you have a lot of people to ferry back to the house, and I can walk.’ She dredged up a smile. ‘The exercise will do me good.’

  Paul’s mother seemed reluctant to let her go. ‘You will come and see us now and again, won’t you, Annie?’

  ‘Of course.’ She shook hands with everyone she knew and then stopped in front of Reid. ‘Goodbye, Squadron Leader.’ She didn’t offer her hand or look into his eyes, she just turned and walked out of the churchyard making it clear that she never wanted to see him again. It was puzzling why he should have hurt her so much. She would normally have put such conduct down to grief, but his rudeness and sarcasm had cut deep. It had been totally unwarranted and she didn’t know why he’d acted like that towards her. She could understand the anger he must have been feeling caused by the death of his brother, but where had his compassion been for her sorrow? Was he incapable of seeing past his own loss? But no, that didn’t sound like the man Paul had loved and respected. Reid Lascells was a fighter pilot and, therefore, no stranger to death and grief. However, his hostile attitude towards her was puzzling. What had she ever done to hurt him?

  She hadn’t been walking for more than fifteen minutes when it started to rain, that heavy kind of drizzle that can soak you to the skin in no time at all. Blast, she thought as she turned up her collar, a rotten end to an upsetting day.

  A car came along beside her and the passenger door was thrown open.

  ‘Get in.’

  After glaring at Reid, she put her head down and ignored him.

  ‘You’re going to get drowned,’ he told her sharply. ‘It’s another mile to the station.’

  She walked up to the car and slammed the passenger door with a thud, then continued walking. If he thought she was going to get into a car with him, he was very much mistaken. She’d been on the receiving end of his sharp tongue before, and had no intention of repeating the experience. Her emotions were too fragile at the moment and she would either hit him or sob uncontrollably. It was better to be wet than to have to endure another moment of his company.

  The car disappeared from her sight and she breathed a sigh of relief; he’d got the message at last. But her satisfaction was short-lived. A door closed and footsteps crunched on the gravel road behind her, then Reid caught her up, shoved his hands in his pockets and started to walk with her, not saying a word.

  Annie endured this for some ten minutes and then couldn’t stand it any longer. She stopped and spun to face him. ‘What the blazes do you think you’re doing?’

  ‘I’m walking to the station with you,’ he replied mildly.

  ‘What on earth for?’

  ‘Well, this is a very lonely road, so I’m going to make sure you’re safe.’

  She was incensed. How dare he play the gallant knight after his heartless treatment! ‘I’m perfectly safe. I’ve been trained in unarmed combat, and if you don’t go away it will give me a great deal of pleasure to show you just how proficient I am.’

  ‘Now come on, Annie Webster, you don’t expect me to believe that, do you? Why would the RAF teach a fragile little thing like you to kill with her bare hands?’

  ‘Believe what you like.’ She realized that she shouldn’t have given him that piece of information, but he made her fighting mad. He hadn’t taken it seriously so it was all right. Anyway, she’d only had one week of intensive training, so she’d have been hard pushed to make good her claim if he challenged her. He was a tall, well-built man and she would have had to take him completely by surprise if she’d wanted to throw him. But, by heavens, she’d like to try!

  She started to step out again, and still he came with her. ‘Will you please go away?’

  He shook his head and the water ran down his face. ‘Can’t do that. I promised I’d look after you.’

  ‘Are you taking the bloody rise out of me?’ Her voice had risen now, and if he wasn’t very careful she really would belt him one. At the funeral she’d watched the coffin being lowered and felt as if Paul’s death was all her fault. But, of course, that was ridiculous …

  ‘Such language from a well-educated girl.’ He gave her a disapproving look, but the corner of his mouth twitched.

  ‘Oh, I know a lot worse than that, mate. I grew up in the roughest street in Bermondsey.’

  ‘Well, well, you learn something new every day, don’t you? Paul never told me that.’ There was softness to his voice as he spoke his brother’s name.

  At the mention of Paul she stopped again. Her anger melted, leaving a lingering sadness. She pleaded, ‘Will you leave me alone?’

  ‘Can’t do that.’ Reid glanced at his watch. ‘And if you don’t keep moving you’re going to miss your train.’

  He was right, damn him. The only thing to do was ignore him.

  They walked in silence until the station came in sight, then he stopped and turned her to face him. ‘I want to apologize for the way I treated you when we first met. I was hurting badly from losing Paul, but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.’

  ‘No, you shouldn’t, but I forgive you. Now will you leave me alone?’

  ‘I’ll see you on the train.’

  Annie tried to wipe the rain away from her face with her sleeve. It was like a soggy sponge; she was going to have a devil of a job getting it dry, and she was in for an uncomfortable journey back to Cheadle. Reid was in the same state. ‘Why did you come with me? You could have stayed in the car and kept dry.’

  He shrugged. ‘I guess I can be as bloody-minded as you.’

  A fleeting grin
crossed her face. ‘That I can believe.’

  The train was delayed, which was nothing unusual. Annie was regretting her stubbornness; she was soaked to the skin.

  ‘Ah, there’s a mobile canteen over there.’ Reid steered her over to it, and as they were both in uniform got them two cups of steaming hot tea.

  ‘You know,’ he said as he sipped his drink, ‘you don’t look a bit like the immaculate WAAF I met for the first time. You resemble a cat who’s just been thrown in the river.’

  ‘Thanks! You don’t look any better yourself.’ She put her head on one side and studied the scar on his temple. ‘Anyway, we’ve seen each other before.’

  He frowned and looked at her for a few moments, then shook his head. ‘No, I’d have remembered.’

  ‘It was when Dunkirk was being evacuated,’ Annie said. ‘I saw you on the dock and I was just going to come over and see if I could help you when a very pretty nurse led you away.’

  ‘You were there?’ he asked in disbelief.

  ‘Yes, I was on leave and went with my sister, Rose, to see if we could be of any help.’

  ‘Really?’ He sat on a platform seat and pulled the wet trousers away from his knees with a grimace. ‘What a day that was, I got shot down in France and managed to get on a ship. That captain was bloody brave, in fact all the crew were, but he was a very impressive man. Freeman, his name was.’

  ‘That’s my brother-in-law,’ she told him proudly. ‘He’s married to Rose.’

  ‘Good Lord!’ Reid’s eyes opened wide. ‘Were you the two Captain Freeman hugged when he came ashore?’

  She nodded.

  His gaze was intense. ‘I think I’ve badly misjudged you, Annie Webster.’

  ‘You have, and you hurt me very much,’ Annie said. ‘I was devastated to hear Paul had been killed, and I could have done without a tongue-lashing from you.’

  He tried to take hold of her hand, but she pulled away. ‘Ah, here’s my train, at last. Goodbye, Reid.’

  He closed the carriage door and leant through the window. ‘Can I see you again?’

  ‘I don’t think that would be a good idea.’ Definitely not a good idea, she told herself firmly. There was something about this man she couldn’t fathom. He appeared to be the complete opposite to his brother. Though perhaps he wasn’t as hard and unfeeling as she’d first thought. She’d glimpsed real pain in his eyes during the funeral, and on the way to the station he’d shown a dry sense of humour. She liked that, but one redeeming trait didn’t mean he was someone she wanted to get to know.

  The train pulled away and she gave him one more glance, then shut the window and sat down. She didn’t want any more to do with him, even though she’d had a different view of him today. He was strong, could be aggressive and not the type of man she liked at all. He didn’t appear to have any of his brother’s gentleness.

  When she arrived back at camp it was a relief to get out of her damp clothes, have a bath and put on a dry uniform. She wasn’t due back on duty until six hundred hours tomorrow so she headed for the mess and had something to eat.

  Sam was sitting on his own reading a newspaper, so she joined him. He looked up and smiled when she sat down. ‘How did your day go?’

  ‘Distressing.’ Her voice was husky when she spoke.

  ‘Take the day off tomorrow, Annie,’ Sam ordered. ‘Go for one of those long walks you love so much and clear your head.’

  ‘Thanks, Sam,’ she agreed gratefully. ‘I’ll do that.’

  The sun was shining the next morning and Annie cadged sandwiches from the cook, put them with a bottle of water in her bag and set off. She caught a bus for the short ride to open country where she knew there would be some lovely walks. She needed to be alone and Sam had recognized that as soon as he’d seen her. She would find a quiet place, and while she walked she would ease the sorrow by filling her thoughts with memories of the two men she had lost. Happy memories!

  17

  March 1942

  The last year had been sad for Annie as she’d tried to come to terms with the deaths of Jack and Paul, but slowly the pain was easing. There seemed to be no end to the war in sight, but spring was just around the corner and with the lengthening days the sorrow lifted. She had thrown herself into her work, not wanting to go out or socialize. Jean had despaired of her and had dragged her out to a couple of dances or the local pub whenever they could make it. She had been right not to let her brood, and Annie was grateful for her friendship and understanding. She loved her work, though, and the anticipation of finding messages that might be of use to the war effort never diminished. Three weeks ago she’d had seven days’ leave and had spent it in Wales. Her family were very supportive, without asking questions, and Wally’s quiet love for her had been particularly healing. Her stepfather was not a demonstrative man but he’d always made it clear that he loved them all. She was feeling more like her old self now.

  The mess was in uproar. Annie couldn’t help grinning as she put her hands over her ears. This birthday party was getting out of hand. In fact there had been a few parties over the last few months. Pearl Harbor on 7 December 1941 had been a dreadful affair, but at least the Americans were now in the war and Britain was not alone any more. It was nothing short of a miracle that the country had survived. And a complete mystery why Hitler hadn’t invaded after Dunkirk when the country had been so vulnerable, but he hadn’t, and the brave battle by the RAF had given Britain a chance to regroup. With the Americans now involved, he was going to live to regret that decision.

  Sam came to her table, spun a chair round and straddled it, then he reached out and pulled her hands away from her ears so he could talk to her.

  He said something she couldn’t hear, but at that moment the noise died down as quite a few of them left to go back to their duties, making conversation easier.

  ‘We ought to celebrate the fact that the Americans are in the war with us, and now over here.’

  She laughed. ‘It’s a bit late, Sam, they’ve been here since the end of January.’

  Sam rested his arms on the back of the chair and smiled. ‘I know but we were so busy we hardly noticed 1942 arriving. Would you come out with me tonight?’

  ‘I’d love to,’ she agreed at once. Jean was on leave and she felt like having a good time.

  ‘Good, I’ll borrow some kind of transport and meet you at seven.’ He raised a brow in query. ‘Will that suit you?’

  ‘Perfectly, thanks, Sam.’

  He stood up and swung the chair back into place. ‘We’ll have fun, Annie Webster, and it’s wonderful to hear you laugh again.’

  She watched him walk away and nodded to herself. Last year had been a swine and she had been glad to see the back of it. At one point she had felt so wretched that she’d begged Sam to send her on another mission, but he had refused, and looking back she knew he had been right to veto the idea. He had stayed in the background, watching, waiting, and leaving her to recover in her own time.

  He was a wise man, she realized, and she had come to like and respect him.

  Glancing at her watch she gulped her tea down and headed for the ops room. She was on duty for another two hours but that would leave her plenty of time. A quick bath and change of uniform and she would be ready. She thought wistfully of the pretty dresses and shoes she had in her wardrobe at home and wondered how long it was going to be before she wore them again. Quite some time, she guessed, as this war still had a long way to go. She sighed as she pictured one of her favourite outfits: a turquoise dress and jacket she’d bought on her last holiday with Chantal in France. Those carefree days seemed like a dream now. She pushed the thoughts away.

  Sam had commandeered a truck. When she got to where it was parked outside the mess hall it was full of service men and women. He shrugged and grinned. ‘They all want to come.’

  ‘That’s fine.’ She waved to the boisterous group and climbed in the front with Sam. ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘The Jolly Sailor’s the
nearest pub,’ someone shouted from the back.

  ‘I know the place.’ Sam headed out the gate at a reckless speed.

  Annie grabbed on to the dashboard and gasped. ‘Who taught you to drive?’

  ‘No one.’ He crashed the gears and looked down, muttering under his breath.

  ‘Sam!’ she shouted at him. ‘Have you ever driven one of these before?’

  ‘No’ – he shot her a sideways grin – ‘but I’ll soon get the hang of it.’

  There was another ominous screeching and a head appeared through the gap at the back of them. ‘I say, Sam, it’s not a good idea to engage reverse when you’re going forward.’

  ‘Ah, is that what I was doing?’

  Sam turned round to speak to the man and Annie grabbed the wheel in terror. ‘Will you please keep your eyes on the road.’

  He grinned again, thoroughly enjoying himself, then after some more crashing and pumping with his feet, he settled back. ‘I’ve figured it out now.’

  Annie groaned. ‘Thank God! And I hope this pub isn’t far because I’m going to walk back.’

  Sam tutted. ‘I never had you down for a coward, Annie.’ He squeezed her hand. ‘We’re going to have fun tonight, things are on the turn and France will be liberated now we have the troops to do it.’

  ‘You just missed the pub!’ came a shout from the back.

  Sam jammed on the brakes. ‘Where?’

  The head came through the gap again. ‘You can put her into reverse now, old boy, the Jolly Sailor’s about a hundred yards back.’

  There wasn’t room to turn the big truck around, so he slapped it into the correct gear and shot back, narrowly missing an American car parked in front of the place.

  Annie found that her legs were shaking as they all tumbled into the hostelry. Sam’s driving was almost as bad as jumping out of an aeroplane. She hadn’t realized he had such a reckless streak.