"Well, thanks again.” He rose as he excused himself. “I must go now. I promised to help my father with some paperwork. Good-bye, Sarah." He smiled at his new acquaintance. “Perhaps we can meet again sometime?”
Sarah smiled politely in return. "Yes, I think I’d like that. Good-bye, Tony."
As Sarah watched the young man walk back across the lawns, her smile deepened. Somehow she knew they would be friends.
12
Sarah arrived in Coventry on the nine o'clock train. It was dark and the blackout caused some difficulties for her, but she knew that she would soon get used to it. There were very few vehicles on the road. The inability to use headlights and the shortage of fuel kept most people at home, or if they had to go out they went on foot. Sarah walked along the edge of the pavement where every other kerbstone had been painted white, and used these as a guide through the streets to her home. It seemed strange walking up to the door of a house where no light peeped out from behind the curtains. As a child she had always thought of the lights as a loving welcome home but now the house seemed dark and eerie. Sarah knocked at the door and, after a few moments, heard the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. They stopped on the other side of the door.
"Who is it?"
Sarah smiled at the sound of the familiar voice. No matter that the house was dark, this was home.
"It's me, Mum."
"Sarah! Hold on a minute!"
There was the sound of a heavy curtain being drawn back and a bolt pulled, then the door opened.
"Come in love, I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow!"
Sarah went in and her mother closed the door behind her, shutting out the night. She drew the blackout curtain again and switched on the light.
"Hello, Mum."
Sarah smiled at her mother. Alice Porter was plump, and exuded a feeling of love and warmth to all around her. Since the death of her husband in late 1918, only six months after their wedding and four months before the birth of Sarah, she had provided for herself and her child by any number of jobs, usually cleaning. Although she had had to work long hours to make ends meet, Sarah had wanted for nothing and knew the kind of loving home which many people would envy. Sarah reached out and hugged her mother.
"I managed to get a train as soon as I got off duty, and didn't want to waste any more of my leave than I needed on travelling. Besides, I couldn't wait to see you."
Alice laughed. "You mean you couldn't wait to see Joe! He’d have been at the station to meet you if he’d known you were coming today. At least tomorrow is Sunday, so he'll be able to spend the whole day with you. It's his only day off, you know."
Sarah nodded as she put down her small case and took off her coat.
"You don't seem to have brought much with you love, how long are you staying?"
"I have to go back on Friday."
Alice led the way down the narrow hall into the familiar kitchen, and put the kettle on as she listened to her daughter talk. As they sat at the old wooden table and drank their tea, Sarah told her mother all about her work at Heronfield House, of the wounded and dispirited soldiers she had seen after Dunkirk and her fears for the future. Alice took her daughter's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.
"Don't worry, love. The Germans didn't get to England last time and I'm sure we can keep them out now. The worst they can do is drop a few bombs and we're well prepared for that." She indicated the gas mask which Sarah had placed on the kitchen table when she sat down. "Apart from those infernal contraptions which we have to carry at all times, we now have an air raid shelter."
"How did you manage to get one?" Sarah asked. "I thought they were being given to people with large families first?"
Alice nodded. "True, but I agreed that if I had an Anderson shelter in the garden I would share it with the neighbours, so old Mr. and Mrs. Cook from number 27, and Mary Norman and her two children from number 31 will be using it too. We've decided to work as a team and do our bit for the war. Both of their gardens, and what’s left of ours after that huge corrugated iron monstrosity was put in, have been dug over and planted with vegetables. It's been hard work, but worth it. We'll be able to provide ourselves with at least half of the vegetables we’ll need, so we’ll be able to use our ration coupons for other things."
"I’m impressed, Mum." Sarah took her empty cup to the sink and washed it. "You know," she said as she turned off the tap, "it seems strange to stand here at the sink and only see the blackout curtain. I'm so used to looking at the garden."
"You won't recognise it now, love. There's a lump in what used to be the lawn, where the Anderson shelter is, and the rest is all vegetables." She sighed. "I had to dig up my roses."
Sarah laid a comforting hand on her mother’s shoulder.
"Surely not everything has changed?"
Alice laughed.
"No, not everything! Joe is still the same! He often calls to see how I am, which is really kind of him. You've got a good man there, Sarah."
Sarah nodded, barely able to suppress her excitement at the thought of seeing Joe again.
"Yes, I know."
Sunday morning dawned bright and clear, and Sarah was up early to be ready when Joe came round. It was just before ten o'clock when he called to ask Alice if she knew which train Sarah would be on, only to be greeted at the door by the one he had missed so much.
"Sarah!"
Sarah laughed, a gay abandoned laugh, and threw herself into the arms of the young man at the door. She kissed him happily and ran her fingers through his silky fair hair.
"Oh Joe! It's so good to see you again!"
"Really? I'd never have guessed!" He laughed, but made no effort to extricate himself from her arms.
"Come on." Sarah pulled away and took him by the hand. "Let's go for a walk. I've got heaps to tell you."
So they walked and talked in the warm summer sunshine, Sarah relating all that had happened in the twelve weeks since she had last seen Joe, and he describing his work at the aircraft factory.
"I don't mind the work,” he concluded. "I just wish I could take a more active part in things."
Sarah squeezed his hand.
"I know how you must feel, but your job’s as important as any soldiers. Without the armaments from the factories there’d be no chance of us winning this war. And now the army has had to get out of France, I’d think that the planes you’re helping to build will be our main defense against invasion." She smiled lovingly at Joe. “You’re doing as much for the country as any man in uniform.”
Their steps had brought them to the beautiful cathedral in the centre of Coventry. The sun shone brightly on the yellow stone spires and the sound of voices raised in praise to God drifted out to them on the breeze.
"Isn't it beautiful." Sarah's voice was almost a whisper as she stood quietly absorbing the atmosphere. "I've always loved this place."
Joe nodded.
"So have I. I'd hate of think of the Germans invading, walking down our streets and worshipping in our cathedral. That’s why I’ve done something about it."
Sarah turned towards him in surprise.
"What have you done, Joe?"
"Joined up."
Sarah frowned.
"But they found you unfit. Didn't they give you another medical?"
Joe shook his head.
"I didn't need one." He led her to a grassy bank dotted with daisies and buttercups. "Sit down and I'll tell you."
Sarah sat, curious to know what Joe had been up to. He sat too, facing her so that he blocked out her view of the cathedral.
"Did you hear Mr. Eden, the new War Secretary, on the radio a few weeks ago?"
"You mean when he warned about the danger of German paratroopers?"
Joe nodded.
"Well, he also talked about something called the Local Defence Volunteers. He wanted men who are not in the forces to join the Volunteers to prepare to push back an invasion, or spot enemy planes, or any number of jobs like that. It's part-time, s
o those who do join up don't have to give up their jobs; we don't get paid to be in the Volunteers either." He smiled. “The best part of it is that I don’t need a medical. Any lads like me with a slight heart murmur or something else that keeps them out of the regular forces can join up, and feel as though we’re doing our bit.”
"And so you volunteered?"
Joe nodded. "Yes. I've got a uniform but no gun as yet, there aren't enough arms to go round. My duty is aircraft spotting three nights a week." He paused and looked at Sarah. "You don't mind, do you?"
Sarah smiled. "Of course not, Joe. I'm glad you can feel involved in the war effort. If only all men were so patriotic." She put her arms around him and hugged him tight. "I'm so proud of you."
"And I'm proud of you, Sarah." He kissed her gently and held her close, murmuring softly against her hair. "I hope this war will be over soon. I miss you so much when you're away."
They kissed again, and the peace and beauty of their surroundings faded into insignificance as Sarah clung tightly to the man she loved.
Sarah's leave passed quickly. Time spent with Joe seemed short, for his work at the factory and with the LDV could not be put aside for her, but it did give her more time to spend with her mother. Alice always seemed to exude confidence. For her there was no doubt as to the eventual outcome of this war. No matter that the British Army had suffered a grave defeat, they, and the civilians who had rescued them, had shown themselves to be courageous and resourceful, and Alice lived with the conviction that Hitler's Germany would eventually be defeated. Sarah was never to forget the afternoon they sat together listening to the radio and hearing an inspired Churchill speaking to a people rocked by defeat but not bowed down. The two women, like everyone who heard those words, listened in silence to the man who was to lead their country into battle. His praise for the men who had fought with the British Expeditionary Forces was uplifting, and his thanks to the civilian sailors left people in no doubt that all men and women in the country could play their part in the conflict which lay ahead.
"We shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender."
Sarah reached across the table and took her mother’s hand in her own.
"Is this what it was like in the last war? Did you prepare to stop an invasion too?"
Alice shook her head.
"No love, it never came to that. Our men, and theirs, were bogged down in northern France." Her eyes had a distant look, remembering the man she had loved and who never returned from the fields of death and destruction. "This war is different", she continued. "It's so unpredictable. But with a man like that leading us, how can we fail to win? His words are an inspiration to us all."
Sarah nodded. Yes, Churchill could thrill and uplift with his words. She thanked God that He seemed to have placed the right man in a position of power just when he was needed most.
13
The sun flooded the drawing room with its yellow morning light, as the family sat in quiet preoccupation after breakfast, each deep in their own thoughts and barely conscious of those around them. Chantrelle de Thierry gazed into the distance as though her eyes could see nothing but the destruction of her beloved homeland; Louise was reading the papers and trying to glean any information that she could about what was happening on the continent, while Tony gazed out of the window of the lodge towards the imposing façade of Heronfield House. It seemed strange to be so close to his home yet not living there, especially when he thought of Sarah being there and treating it like home. He wondered when he would see her again, and if she was looking forward to their next meeting as much as he was. Probably not. After all, she still had this ‘Joe’ who seemed to be so important in her life. He sighed. Life seemed so frustrating at the moment. He wanted to get to know Sarah better, but that seemed impossible: and he wanted to get back to France and fight; the need to do something seemed to burn in his heart like the flames he had seen surrounding the beaches of Dunkirk.
Tony could hardly believe that he had been home for three weeks already. He was feeling physically rested after his experiences in France, but found that his emotions were still in turmoil and he could not relax. At any moment of the day or night his mind would fill with images of the refugees, the tanks, the Stukas, the beaches. As he reflected on his experiences, he knew that he could not sit at home while the rest of the country prepared for war. He was restless and eager to fight, keen to join up at the earliest possible moment. Yet he had promised Jim that he would wait to hear from him before he joined up, and now that promise weighed heavily on him. What was taking so long? He remembered their last conversation together as they said goodbye in Portsmouth. He replayed the words again and again in his mind. Jim had definitely said that he would call, and that there would be a job he could do. What was taking so long? He wanted to join up now, to pay the Germans back for the dead boy on the road, the wounded and dead soldiers he had seen, the beaches of Dunkirk. He frowned deeply in frustration. What was taking Jim so long?
Sir Michael put down the letter he was reading and turned towards his son.
"That was a letter from David. It seems that my two sons both had their first taste of action at Dunkirk."
"David was at Dunkirk?" Tony turned towards his father in surprise. Just the name conjured up the feelings of tiredness, hunger, fear, hopelessness and dread which had been his all-encompassing experience of Dunkirk. He heard the sound of the Stukas again, the chattering of their machine guns and the thud of their bombs as they fell among the crowds of humanity thronging the beaches. Somehow he had not been aware, amidst all the chaos, of any British planes involved in the evacuation. He shivered as he remembered the horror he had experienced on the beaches, and hoped he would never have to face anything like that again. "You know, Dad, we saw very few of our aircraft there. The sky seemed to be full of Stukas. They kept bombing and strafing us, but we saw hardly any fights between British and German planes. It was as though they had complete control of the skies, and our boys were nowhere in sight."
Sir Michael nodded. "I can understand how you might have got that impression. From what David says in his letter they flew high and engaged the fighters above the clouds, sometimes above the beaches and sometimes inland, trying to stop the enemy planes reaching the evacuation point. He says that they couldn't see anything of what was going on on the beaches under the clouds of smoke."
"How is David?"
"He's fine. He survived Dunkirk with no injuries, just like you." Sir Michael gazed thoughtfully at his younger son. "He asks in his letter if you’ve joined up yet and, frankly, I've been wondering about that myself. You know more about what’s going on in France than most people. I thought you’d have joined up by now, instead of waiting to be called up."
Tony frowned across at his father. "I hope you're not implying that I'm trying to avoid joining up, Dad. I want to get out there and fight after what I saw. You’re no more eager for me to join up than I am myself! I was going to join up as soon as I got back, but something stopped me. The fact is, a young lieutenant I met in France thinks that a new unit he's been posted to might be able to use me. I'm not sure what it's all about, but I promised not to join up for a month or so, to give him time to make enquiries." The young man turned to look out of the window again. "You didn't see those Germans killing civilians like I did. Nor the chaos on the beaches. Now Paris has fallen, and more than half of France is under German control. I mean to get out there, free Grandmother’s home and drive the Nazis back to the holes they came from. If I haven't heard from Jim Briggs in a couple of weeks I shall be joining up anyway, and if his unit wants me they'll just have to arrange a transfer."
Sir Michael walked across to his son and laid a hand on his shoulder.
"I'm sorry son, I didn't mean to suggest that you’re a coward. I just thought that a young man like you would have joined up sooner. Now you've told me about this lieutenant I quite understand. Let's review the s
ituation in a couple of weeks, shall we?”
Tony turned and smiled at his father.
"Yes. And thanks for being so understanding."
The two weeks were almost up when Tony finally heard from Jim Briggs.
JULY 1940
14
The phone call was brief and to the point.
"Tony? It's Jim here."
Tony relaxed at the sound of the voice. Although he had not been aware of feeling such tension, its easing was almost visible to the naked eye.
"Jim! At last! I was beginning to think you weren't going to call. How are you?"
"I'm fine, Tony. It didn’t take them long to get me back in harness, and we’re working hard to get ready for the next confrontation with Jerry.” There was a brief pause. “Have you joined up yet?"
Tony smiled grimly.
"No, and I have to admit it's been difficult not to. Apart from wanting to join up myself, I've been under quite a lot of pressure from my father. He seems to think I've been putting it off because I’m afraid to fight after what happened in France, but my feelings are exactly the opposite; I can’t wait to get out there and do something to put things right. I have to join up soon, or I’ll go mad. Do you have any news for me about joining your unit? If not, I'll go and join up tomorrow. I want to be ready to fight when the invasion finally comes, not stuck in some barracks doing basic training."
Tony’s eagerness was transmitted down the telephone line so that Jim smiled on the other end. "As it happens, I do have some news. A Mr. Jones wants to see you the day after tomorrow at 10.30, in Room 34 at the Northumberland Hotel in London. Do you know it?"
"Yes, we often use it. But why a hotel?"
"We don't want people to know who you are seeing and why, so a hotel is the best place."
Tony smiled. "It sounds intriguing."
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