Far From Home

by Anne Bennett

  ‘And Nick too,’ Susie said. ‘And you’re right. Things like that do happen. David could find himself tainted just because he is Lawrence’s brother.’

  ‘Exactly, so that’s why we are keeping it to ourselves,’ Kate said. ‘So don’t say anything to the others.’

  ‘You know I can keep things close to my chest if I have to,’ Susie said. ‘But you have nothing to be ashamed about.’

  ‘I know, but I don’t even want to be related by marriage to someone so cowardly,’ Kate said.

  Susie said nothing for minute or two because she knew how Kate felt. She couldn’t blame her because she knew she would feel much the same. Finally, she burst out, ‘I know what you’re saying, Kate, but I think it’s not flipping well fair.’

  Kate shrugged. ‘Don’t suppose it is, but no one ever promised us a fair deal and this war might not be fair to many people, I wouldn’t have thought. But let’s not bother talking about Lawrence Burton any more – he’s not worth wasting our breath on.

  That last week sped by and Kate often wished she had the power to stop time so that she could enjoy the company of her new husband a little longer. Susie felt the same way about Nick, and what made it worse was that there was little to take their minds off what lay ahead because the cinemas, theatres and dance halls remained closed. Not that these would have been easy to go out to with the blackout as intense as it was. It was no pleasure going anywhere much. Getting home from work was usually enough of an ordeal and people tended to stay put in the evenings.

  Never had Kate been more grateful that they had the wireless. She loved cuddling up to David on the sofa, enjoying the plays and comedy programmes and concerts. There was also news on the hour, which they both listened to avidly. Kate began to wonder how she had managed so long without such a source of entertainment and information. She now always brought a paper home and David would devour this each evening and read her out snippets from it as she prepared the evening meal. It wasn’t hard to read it all so quickly given that, since war had been declared, in an effort to save paper, the newspapers were only about four sheets of extremely small print, so the more in-depth news on the wireless was even more important.

  Many of the women and girls Kate and Susie worked with were also worried about their men folk. The initial call-up of lads aged twenty and twenty-one that had begun in April meant more than a few of the girls had boyfriends in the Forces like Sally had, and others had husbands, sons or brothers, either awaiting their own call-up, or who had enlisted on the declaration of war. It was only a matter of time, everyone knew, until they were all conscripted. Kate thought that Birmingham would be a very strange place when, along with other cities, it would be denuded of all their young, fit men.

  ‘Good job we have a job of work to go to, that’s all I can say,’ Kate said to Susie as they sat on the tram on their way home through the deepening dusk. It was the Friday before David and Nick had to report to the aerodrome. ‘I’d go mad in the flat all day, especially after David leaves tomorrow.’

  ‘Oh, I’ll say,’ Susie said. ‘I’d like to think if they both make it as pilots, they can look out for each other.’

  Kate shook her head. ‘It would be lovely to imagine that might happen,’ she said. ‘But I really think that when they are in those planes it’s every man for himself.’

  ‘I suppose,’ Susie agreed. ‘And I do wish that Mom and Dad had let Nick and I get married. I know now why you two did, because before he goes to face God-alone-knows-what, I really want to love Nick properly, you know?’

  Oh, Kate knew all right. She and David were both aware of the short time they had together, and so their passion rose quickly and their lovemaking was even better. And after the rapturous loving was over, she would feel blissfully satiated and utterly, utterly content. Remembering it now she was glad the dark morning hid the crimson flush on her cheeks. ‘Last night we nearly … Well, you know what I mean?’ Susie went on. ‘It isn’t always easy to say no, especially when you don’t want to.’

  ‘I know that only too well.’

  ‘In the end, I got scared,’ Susie said. ‘What if I was to get pregnant? I couldn’t do that to Mom and Dad, but God it was hard.’

  Kate felt sorry for her friend, but she had done the right thing – for an unmarried girl to become pregnant was a terrible disgrace. Maybe people’s attitudes in Birmingham were not as bad as those in Ireland, but they were still bad enough, and the shame of it impinged on the whole family. ‘If you feel that strongly you ought to stand up to your parents,’ she said.

  ‘Bit late now.’

  ‘No, it isn’t,’ Kate insisted. ‘Nick and David will both have leave when their training is finished and you can arrange special licences to get married quick. You can’t have the big church wedding though. There won’t be time.’

  ‘That will upset my mother,’ Susie said. ‘And then, as I told you, she is very anti wartime marriages.’

  Kate saw her friend biting on her bottom lip as she did when she was disturbed about something or other and she said gently, ‘I am very fond of your parents; I wouldn’t hurt them for the world and I know you feel the same way. Your mother is only saying this about wartime marriages because she wants to save you from heartache. And most parents, and brides if asked, will say that ideally they would like the big white wedding. But we are adults now, and no one can protect us from sorrow and loss. It isn’t ever an ideal world and now we are at war as well, normal rules don’t apply.’

  ‘You think we should just do it, don’t you?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter what I think,’ Kate said. ‘This doesn’t concern me and all I want you to do is follow your heart. And remember that this is your life and to live as an independent person or couple means that sometimes you might have to go against what your parents want and ignore their advice.’

  Susie didn’t speak for a moment and then she said, ‘And when are you going to tell your parents about your marriage, Kate?’

  ‘I dread doing that, to be honest,’ Kate said. ‘But now David has enlisted I can say that, though we wanted to get married in the normal way, he was called up and we were married by that special licence I told you about, because there was no time to do anything else. And I will promise my mother that we will have the marriage blessed in church when we can.’

  ‘Will she be all right about that?’

  Kate shrugged. ‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘Probably not, but it’s the best I can do. Maybe then I can start going back to church.’

  ‘Don’t you go now then?’

  ‘No,’ Kate said. ‘I told Sally I went to an earlier Mass, since we always used to go together, but now she knows that’s not true because Father Patterson collared her last week and asked her if I was sick.’

  ‘What did she say?’

  ‘She’s a quick thinker, Sally,’ Kate said. ‘And she would never knowingly drop me in it, so she said I had a really bad cold, but then she came round on the way home to find out what was wrong. I promised I would start to go again – that will be easier when David is away. I was enjoying our Sunday morning cuddles too much to get up and scurry along to Mass. I valued our time together because I knew it was limited.’

  ‘Anyone would understand that.’

  ‘Yes, anyone but a Catholic priest.’

  ‘Yeah, they do seem to be a law unto themselves,’ Susie said. ‘And often have a set of values at variance with everyone else’s.’

  The tram pulled up at their stop and they had alighted before Kate said, ‘There was another reason, too, why I felt awkward going to church after getting married in the register office. I mean, he won’t recognize my marriage, will he?’

  ‘Does he have to know?’

  ‘I’d say so,’ Kate said. ‘You can’t keep a secret of a thing like that. I shan’t rush to tell him, though, but when David has leave he will be living with me – and what if I was to have a child?’

  ‘Oh. I hadn’t thought that far ahead,’ Susie said. ‘Do y
ou want a child? I mean, when we are at war and everything?’

  ‘It isn’t a case of wanting or not wanting, is it?’ Kate said. ‘Not when you’re a Catholic. You know that. I suppose if a baby comes then it comes.’

  ‘But do you want one?’

  ‘Not really,’ Kate admitted. ‘Not yet, anyway, but in the meantime I’ll keep Father Patterson sweet by turning up at church on Sunday mornings.’

  ‘You will take care, won’t you?’ Kate asked David anxiously the following morning as she watched him buttoning up his top coat. Then she gave a wry smile as she went on, ‘What nonsense we speak at times. You’re not joining up to keep safe, are you?’

  David gave a shake of his head, ‘No, not really.’

  ‘I suppose what I mean is, don’t be a hero or anything.’

  ‘I’ll do my level best to come back to you safe and sound,’ David said. ‘Will that do?’

  ‘I suppose it will have to,’ Kate said.

  ‘Anyway,’ David said, ‘you are getting ahead of yourself. Even if I do pass the medical and the other tests to see if I am pilot material, I will only be training for some time yet.’

  ‘I know,’ Kate said in a soft voice.

  David lifted her head up and felt his heart contract as he saw her eyes full of trepidation, and he wrapped his arms around her as he said gently, ‘You know, I love you more than life itself and what I want is to come home to you when this little lot is over.’

  Tears were trickling down Kate’s cheeks and she was annoyed, for those were the tears that she promised herself she would never shed because it might make things harder for David. She cried brokenly, ‘That’s what I want too.’

  The kiss nearly took her breath away; it was as if a furnace had been lit inside her and she moaned and leaned against David and felt him harden. He pushed her away, saying, ‘We have no time for that alas. Now come no further than the door; I want you waiting for me here when I come home again.’

  ‘I will be,’ Kate said. ‘And for me it can’t come soon enough.’

  ‘I feel the same,’ David said, and he kissed her tenderly on the lips. She watched him clattering down the stairs through a haze of tears.

  As soon as he had gone from view, she ran across to the living-room window to see him striding down the street. Then she sat down and scribbled a note to her mother, explaining her rush to get married as she told Susie she would; then, before all courage deserted her, she posted the letter straight away.

  The boys had been gone just a few days when cinemas, theatres and dance halls opened up again. No bombs had fallen and the government decided that these places of enjoyment were good for the morale of the nation. Everyone was relieved, though there was still the blackout to contend with. ‘Will you try and get your old job back?’ Kate asked Sally, who she was visiting the Saturday after the announcement.

  Sally shook her head. ‘No, I don’t think so.’

  ‘Lure of the money too much for you?’

  ‘It isn’t only the money,’ Sally said. ‘Though two pounds five shillings is not to be sneezed at. But there are downsides. Nothing had prepared me for the noise, and at first I was so tired when I came home, but I am getting more used to that now. There’s loads of dirt and dust, and the stench of the oil makes our clothes pong something awful, even under the overalls; I can even smell it on my skin when I get undressed. And my hair is permanently lank, however much I wash it.’

  ‘It must have been awful for you at first,’ Kate said sympathetically. ‘Factories are very dirty, noisy places. I didn’t think I would stick it at first and I might not have done if I hadn’t known that Susie had spoken up for me and I didn’t want to let her down. After all, she had been there since she was fourteen and coped with it. Anyway, it wouldn’t have been a very sensible thing to do to leave my job, because Britain was in the middle of a massive slump and jobs were much harder to come by then than they are today.’

  ‘Well, I got to thinking about Phil,’ Sally said. ‘He didn’t choose to go in the Army or get a choice in whether he was to be taught to kill people or not.’

  ‘So, you feel you’re doing your bit?’

  ‘Yeah, sort of.’

  ‘I fully understand that,’ Kate said. ‘And while you make mortar bombs, the radiator grilles that we are finishing off in the polishing shop now are for military vehicles, troop trucks and the like. I am proud of that.’

  ‘That’s it,’ Sally said. ‘I mean, when most of the youngish, fit men are drafted into the Forces, there will only be us left to make the ammo and guns and tanks and so on that the Army can’t fight without.’

  Ruby came into the room at that moment and, hearing Sally’s comments, said, ‘And we have to fight and fight to win. Murdering bastards they are, the lot of them. Mark my words, the only good Germans are the dead ones. I’m proud of Phil and all the other young fellows like him. And,’ she added to Sally, ‘talking of Phil, you have a letter, and if it says the same as mine, which I’m sure it will, then you’ll be a very happy girl.’

  Sally took the letter from Ruby and ripped the envelope in her haste to read what Phil had to say. She scanned it quickly and then turned to Kate, her bright eyes shining as she said, ‘He’s coming home, Kate. Phil’s coming home on leave.’

  Kate made her way home feeling pleased and happy for her sister – and also for Ruby – as Phil had been away many months. But she was also apprehensive because she knew that Phil’s leave was probably embarkation leave and he would soon be in the thick of it, fighting an army that had goose-stepped its way almost effortlessly through half of Europe, like some sort of unstoppable monster.

  A week later, Phil was home. Any trace of the boy that might have lingered when he left was gone, and in its place was a man with a resolute step and a confident air. But he was as courteous and kindly as ever and had eyes only for Sally. It almost hurt Kate to see such love and she knew that, though they were young, the love they had for one another was the sort that would last a lifetime. She trembled for Sally and Phil and herself and David and all other lovers facing such a fractured future.

  Kate said nothing of her fears in the weekly letter she wrote to David, though she mentioned that Phil had come home for a spot of leave, nor did she make any mention of the censorious letter she had received from her mother. It said more or less what Kate was expecting: that Kate was living in mortal sin and didn’t she care about her immortal soul, destined for Hell’s Flames, or any children of this union that would be bastards? There was more in the same vein, but Kate folded up the letter, pushed it back in the envelope and put it in the box with all her mother’s other letters.

  Once upon a time, such a letter would have greatly upset her, but she found it hardly mattered what her mother thought of her life. She had more than enough to worry about already without adding more to the list. What she did tell David was about her adventures in the blackout.

  She had been part of the army of women that painted a white line down the edge of the road. Dolly and quite a few of the tenants came out to help.

  ‘What good do they think white lines are going to be?’ one woman remarked. ‘My old man says as how white has to have summat to reflect against to do any good at all.’

  ‘Maybe if there was a full moon?’ Dolly ventured, but another woman pooh-poohed that idea. ‘D’you think in these smoky, cloudy skies you would see a helpful moon?’

  ‘I’d say not,’ said another. ‘Nor any twinkling stars either.’

  ‘Well, I don’t know,’ said the first woman. ‘But summat has to be done. I apologized to three pillar boxes, two trees and a telephone box that I bumped into on my way home from work last night.’

  The women laughed heartily, but really it was no laughing matter. People had been injured bashing into things or falling off kerbs, or being run over and even killed by motor vehicles, which were allowed no lights either in darkness that was sometimes as thick as pitch. ‘This blackout is Hitler’s secret weapon,’ Kate said. ‘H
e isn’t going to bother bombing us at all. Just wait till we all kill ourselves bumbling about in the blackout.’

  ‘You could be right at that,’ one woman said.

  ‘Yeah, but in case you’re wrong, maybe we should do what we volunteered for,’ another remarked.

  Grumbling good-naturedly, though realizing the futility of what they were doing, they painted white lines on the kerbs and rings around the odd tree or pillar box. It didn’t help and no one really thought it would and, as the nights drew in, everyone had to take extra care getting to and from work.

  But though in her letters to David she told this in a comical way, she found the inky blackness very depressing. ‘You’re not even safe on the buses,’ she complained one morning. ‘Look at that one yesterday that went straight over an island because he didn’t see it.’

  ‘And it’s so cold and blustery as well,’ Susie said. ‘The constantly grey skies don’t help anyone’s mood and the low clouds mean that it’s dark by early afternoon. That lovely hot summer is just a memory now.’

  ‘I know,’ Kate said. ‘No chance of an Indian summer this year.’

  ‘No, indeed not,’ Susie said.

  And the girls were right because all through October, every day seemed colder than the one before, with an icy nip in the air. In November, rain-driven gale-force winds began battering the coast, and 100,000 Anderson shelters were delivered to Birmingham. Kate did not find this reassuring, she found it terrifying, but Susie had been perplexed when she had said so.

  ‘If the Germans drop bombs from the air, then isn’t it good that people have somewhere to shelter away from them?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes, I suppose,’ Kate said. ‘I mean, yes, of course, but it’s just—’

  ‘You don’t like the thought of aerial bombing,’ Susie said. ‘And neither do I, but we can’t do anything to stop it if it happens.’