"Yes, we've been lucky so far. We've had a few planes over, but no big raids. I wonder how long we'll escape them?"
"Don't be a pessimist, Mum." Sarah finished her tea and began to set the table for dinner. "They might not bother us here."
Alice shrugged.
"Maybe. But Joe seems to think that we're bound to get a raid sooner or later, with all the war industry."
"Is he coming round tonight?"
Alice glanced across at her daughter and smiled. She had tried to sound unconcerned but Alice knew how much she longed to see Joe again.
"I'm afraid not love. He's on duty tonight and working at the factory tomorrow. But he'll be free tomorrow night. He’ll come round to see you then." Alice laughed. "Don't look so glum! It's not the end of the world!"
Sarah laughed too, "Sorry Mum, it's just that I was really looking forward to seeing him again."
"Well, waiting one more day won't do you any harm. Now come and get your dinner."
Alice was right. Waiting another day did Sarah no harm at all, in fact it merely increased her anticipation of the coming meeting. Joe duly arrived the following evening, muffled against the cold November air. He took a radiant Sarah in his arms.
“It's good to see you again, my love."
Sarah smiled happily, needing no words to express how she felt at seeing Joe once again.
"How's life in the country?"
Sarah shrugged as she took his coat and hung it up. "All right, I suppose. We get quite a few pilots in at the moment, but it's nothing like as bad as after Dunkirk. At least our present patients are over the worst. They’re only coming to us to convalesce." Sarah shivered. "Getting them straight off the boats from Dunkirk was awful. I hope I never have to go through anything like that again."
Joe took her hand gently. They settled on the sofa in front of the roaring fire.
"I think it's going to be a long war, love. We have a lot to do before we can go back into France, but I doubt whether anything like that will happen again – we’re too prepared now."
"I hope so."
Sarah gazed into the fire, watching the dancing flames as they ate the logs, listening to the crackle and feeling warm in the gentle yellow glow. She sighed.
"Why does it have to be like this Joe? Why do men have to fight?"
"That's a question women have never stopped asking."
Alice's voice came from the doorway and the two young people turned to see her struggling into her overcoat.
"I'm just popping next door for a cup of tea."
Sarah smiled gratefully, sensing that her mother remembered the precious stolen moments she had shared with Sarah’s father during the last war. “Thanks, Mum. We'll see you later."
Alice left the room, then they heard the front door slam behind her.
"You've got a very thoughtful mother, Sarah. Not many women in her position would leave their daughter alone in the house with a young man!"
Sarah laughed. "You're right! But she realises how little time we have together, and how precious that time is to us." She snuggled close. "Will I be able to see you tomorrow?"
Joe shrugged. "I doubt it. I'm at work all day and on duty all night."
Sarah pouted
"Some leave this is going to be! Don't you have any free time at all?"
"Well, I have an hour or two after work before I begin spotting, but I have to eat then."
"Why not come and join us for dinner?”
"Won't your mother mind?"
"What do you think?"
Joe laughed. "I suppose it will be all right. Don't let me forget to give her my ration coupons though. I can't expect her to feed me on hers."
Sarah snuggled closer.
"Have there been many raids here?"
Joe shook his head. "No. The odd plane has been over, but I wouldn't be surprised if they were lost. There have been no mass raids so far. But I don't suppose we can escape them forever."
"It all seems so heartless, bombing innocent civilians like they are in London. Do you really think they'll do that here?"
"I'm sure of it. Remember, it's not only innocent civilians in Coventry. We have aircraft factories and other war industries. The Germans would be mad not to bomb us."
"Don't say that!" Sarah was appalled at the thought and pulled away to look him in the eye. "You're talking of them bombing our homes and families! How can you be so matter of fact about it?"
"Because it's bound to happen. I don't want it to happen and I'm frightened of how I'll react when it does, but I know it will. I just try to hide my feelings and face facts."
Sarah leant her head against his shoulder and snuggled close again. "I'm sorry, Joe. Let's not talk about the war any more tonight. We have so little time together. We really ought to make the most of it."
Joe smiled down at her upturned face and gently brushed back a stray lock of hair that had fallen across her eyes.
"You're right as usual," he whispered softly as he leant forward to kiss her.
His lips were soft and warm against hers, and Sarah reached up to run her fingers through his silky blond hair. It felt so good to be in his arms again. She did not resist as Joe's kiss became stronger, more insistent. As his tongue found its way into her mouth and began to gently caress her own, a low moan escaped from Sarah's lips. Encouraged by her response, Joe’s hand moved up from her waist until it was cupping her left breast through the thin cotton of her blouse. Sarah tensed at the touch, excited yet not sure how to respond. Her breath caught in her throat.
Pulling gently away, Joe gazed down into the face of the woman he loved. A small frown puckered her brow, and there was a questioning look in her eyes. He smiled gently.
"Just relax, Sarah. It will be all right. I promise."
He leant down and began to kiss her again. His lips were slow but sure, and Sarah found herself beginning to respond again. Joe's hand began to move more firmly against her breast and his thumb to stroke the hardened nipple. Sarah felt her head spinning. His touch excited her in a way that she had never experienced before. She wanted it to continue, yet was afraid of the consequences. With an effort of will she pulled away and sat up. Joe's hand slipped from her breast and fell to the sofa between them.
"What's the matter?"
"I...I'm not sure." Sarah's cheeks felt hot, and she knew she must appear flushed. She found it difficult to lift her eyes to Joe’s.
"Didn't you like it?"
Sarah said nothing. How could she tell him of how his touch had made her heart pound and want for more? What would he think of her if she told him that she wished his touch would never end?
"You know I'd never do anything to hurt you, don't you?"
Sarah nodded. "It's just that...I'm not sure what to do. I don't think I'm ready for this."
"Look at me, Sarah."
She lifted her eyes slowly, afraid that she might she rejection in his but found there only love.
"It doesn't matter if you're not ready Sarah. We can wait. We have our whole lives to wait."
Sarah's features relaxed into an answering smile. Joe leant forward and kissed her softly, gently. They had all the time in the world.
For a while the crackling of the logs on the fire was the only sound to be heard.
The evening of November 14th was cold and clear. The bright moonlight lit the streets and Joe hardly noticed the blackout as he made his way to the Porters’ home. It was a lovely evening, and he wished he did not have to go on duty. At least he would be able to spend some time with Sarah.
Sarah answered his knock and led him along to the kitchen, where Alice was busy at the stove.
“Hello, Joe. Just make yourself comfortable. Dinner won't be long."
“Thanks, Mrs. Porter."
Joe took off his scarf and gloves and hung his coat up before sitting at the table where Sarah poured him a cup of tea. He blew the steam gently, cradling the cup in his hands, then took a sip.
“Thanks, Sarah, I needed that. It's
cold out there. The grass is already beginning to whiten with frost."
"And you've got to be out there on duty all night long. Poor Joe."
Joe smiled warmly. "It's not that bad. We work in teams so we each get a break now and then to rest and warm up. Besides, you know I like to feel that I'm doing my bit."
"No one could do more than you." Sarah's intense gaze held his. Slowly, their hands crept across the table to clasp each other.
"Come on, you two!" Alice bustled over to the table. "That's enough of that. Now you let go of his hand, Sarah, he needs both of them to eat his dinner."
Sarah laughed, blushing, and took the plates from her mother.
"That smells good, Mrs. Porter."
"It's only shepherd’s pie I'm afraid, and more vegetable than shepherd at that. But I'm sure it will taste all right."
It certainly did taste good. In what seemed like no time at all the meal was eaten and the plates cleared away.
"I'll wash these for you, Mrs. Porter."
"You'll do no such thing!" Sarah laid a firm hand on Joe's arm as she spoke. "I'll do these after you've gone. Do you want anything else?"
Joe shook his head. "No thanks." He looked up at the clock on the kitchen wall and frowned. "I'm afraid I’ll have to be off in a moment. It's six thirty already, and I have to be on duty by seven."
Sarah sighed. "I really love it out in the countryside. Heronfield is a really nice place to live and work, but I do wish it was nearer to Coventry. I might get to see more of you."
Joe nodded as he slipped his coat on. "I know what you mean. But this war won't go on forever. Then we’ll have all the time in the world."
Sarah smiled wistfully as she wrapped his scarf around his neck and handed him his gloves
"The sooner it’s over the better, as far as I'm concerned. Do you think you'll be busy tonight?"
Joe shrugged. "Who can say?"
"Well, if you find yourself at a loose end you can always think of me."
"I always do." Joe smiled. "I always do."
The love shone clearly in his eyes and was reflected in Sarah's own. With a smile, Sarah handed him his gas mask and led him towards the front door.
"Come on, or you'll be late."
“Goodnight, Mrs. Porter, and thank you for the dinner,” Joe called over his shoulder as he was ushered along the hall. Sarah closed the kitchen door and turned out the light, before drawing back the heavy blackout curtain. She reached up and kissed Joe tenderly on the lips.
"Goodnight my darling. Take care of yourself."
Joe smiled and returned the kiss, a little more forcefully.
"Goodnight. I'll get over to see you tomorrow. Somehow."
Sarah opened the front door and watched the young man make his way out into the cold November night. He turned at the corner to wave, his breath like a plume of smoke in the moonlit air, then he was gone. Sarah closed the door and pulled the blackout curtain back across it before rejoining her mother in the kitchen, rubbing her hands.
"Is it cold out there, love?"
Sarah nodded. “The blackout curtain is of some use after all. It certainly cuts down the draughts!"
Alice laughed. "Every cloud has a silver lining!"
The two women chatted happily as they washed up after their meal. The clatter of plates and saucepans transported them back to the less worrying times they had enjoyed together before the war. The chores done, they retired to the sitting room and settled down for the evening. Alice picked up her knitting and the sound of clicking needles vied with the music coming from the radio. Sarah snuggled down in an armchair to read the paper. She had barely got past the first page when the sirens sounded.
Alice looked at the clock on the mantelpiece as she stood up and placed a guard in front of the fire.
"Ten past seven. Well, at least it should all be over by bedtime." She glanced at Sarah, who had jumped nervously to her feet. "I forgot, this is your first air raid warning, isn't it?"
Sarah nodded.
"Don't worry love, we often get them. They usually only last an hour or so, and there are rarely any bombs dropped. Going to the shelter is no more than a formality really." She inclined her head towards the newspaper. "Bring that with you if you like, it'll give you something to do. I'm going to take my knitting."
They put on their coats and picked up their gas masks before making for the back door, switching off the lights as they went. As they made their way down the path in the cold night air, Alice smiled.
"At least we can see where we're going in this moonlight. I wouldn't like to tell you how many times I've come off the path and landed in the vegetable patch!"
Sarah laughed. They made their way towards the pile of earth covering the Anderson shelter in the centre of the garden. The dark mass of its bulk was silhouetted grotesquely against the star-filled sky, like a beached whale. As they made their way down the steps, the drone of aircraft could be heard above them. Sarah looked up.
"Ours or theirs?"
Alice shrugged.
"I don't know. Come on."
Barely had they entered the shelter when they were joined by Mary Norman from next door, with her children, Tommy aged six and Lucy who was little more than a babe in arms. She smiled in greeting.
“Hello, Sarah. It's good to see you again. Though I wish it was under more pleasant circumstances."
Mary settled her children on the top bunk which ran along the side wall of the shelter as Mr. and Mrs. Cook from the house on the other side of Alice's carefully made their way down the steps. Alice closed the door and lit the kerosene lamp, which threw their features into sharp relief. Mary handed blankets from the lower bunk to the old couple.
"It's cold tonight. Wrap yourselves in these."
Mrs. Cook, looking every day of her seventy-three years, smiled gratefully.
"Thank you, Mary."
They were soon settled. Alice, Sarah and Mary sat on the lower bunk while Mr. and Mrs. Cook made themselves comfortable in a pair of old, but serviceable, armchairs. Sarah smiled across the small intervening space at the Cooks. They had lived next door all her life and, to her eyes, had always been old. It was comforting to have two such familiar figures in the shelter with her. Mr. Cook smiled.
"Don't worry my dear. The All Clear will sound before you know it."
As though to prove his words a lie, they heard the first bombs begin to fall.
.
33
Joe met up with Bob Dean at seven o’clock. They made their way to the roof of the factory which was their spotting position for the night. Bob rubbed his hands together briskly.
"It's going to be a cold one tonight."
Joe nodded as he picked up the binoculars and slowly scanned the sky for enemy planes. "It's just the sort of night when I'd prefer to be snuggled up close with a pretty girl to keep me warm!"
"And we all know which pretty girl that would be!" Bob laughed.
Joe smiled ruefully. "It wouldn't be so bad if I could see her more often, but she's hardly ever here."
Bob's reply was lost in the wailing of the siren at the other end of the roof. The two men covered their ears with their hands until the deafening sound ceased. Even then their ears still rang, and they felt the echo of the siren roll round inside their heads. Joe shook his head to clear it, then pointed out over the city.
"My God, Bob! Look at that!"
Away to their left the sky was full of planes, like clouds of midges in the air above a still pond on a hot summer’s day. But these midges grew and grew until the shape of the enemy bombers could be see distinctly in the clear, moonlit sky.
"How many do you think there are?" Bob had to raise his voice as the awesome roar of the plane’s engines reached their still smarting ears.
Joe shrugged. "I don't know. At least seventy or eighty, I would think."
In fact there were a hundred, closely followed by three waves of equal number. The two members of the Home Guard watched the leading planes drop flar
es attached to parachutes, to light the targets for those who followed. Then the bombs began to fall.
Joe saw the ack ack open up, sending what looked like little puffs of cotton wool into the air, and the shells seemed to have no more effect than cotton wool on the armada of aircraft above them. The roar and thump of falling bombs was still distant, but as the planes drew closer Joe felt the vulnerability of their position.
"I don't think we'll be much use up here spotting tonight,” he called over his shoulder to Bob, as he ran towards the roof door that led to the stairs. "Let's get down to ground level and see if we can be any help there."
"Don't worry! I'm right behind you!"
Within moments they were running out into the street and away from the tank factory, which must surely be a target for the enemy aircraft. There was a high-pitched screaming sound as a bomb hurtled down close by. The two young men dived into the relative safety of a doorway just as the bomb struck. It destroyed the end house of a terrace and left the adjoining one only half standing. As they left the doorway and ran through the clouds of dust, Bob saw the first flickering flames of fire spread along the fallen roof timbers.
"Quick! Let's put that out before it spreads!"
It was easier said than done. The two men ran to the area of devastation that had once been a kitchen, and began carrying water from a ruptured pipe in two bowls they found lying nearby. It was hard, hot work, running backwards and forwards across the heaps of broken bricks, tables, chairs and pictures. At last they had the flames under control and, finally, they were out. All the time, Joe had been aware of the roar and thunder of the planes, the echoing explosion of bombs, the thump thump thump of the ack ack and the wailing of sirens. Now he stopped for a moment to look around him and stood rigid with horror. The factory where they had been on watch was situated high on a hill, and the whole of Coventry was spread before him like a map. The air was alight with searchlight beams, and full of aircraft raining down bombs in an endless stream. On all sides he could see the yellow glow of fires started by incendiary bombs. He saw that the raid was not confined to Coventry's factories alone. Fires were burning in all areas of the city.
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