Heartwarming and emotional story of one girl's courage in WW2

by Fenella J Miller

  The detective and his entourage slunk out and the three of them went outside and watched them drive away. He turned to Greg.

  ‘Thank goodness Ellie kept Fred out of this. The shock might have given him another funny turn.’

  Greg nodded. ‘Mrs B will have seen everything. What are you going to tell her?’

  ‘That it was a mistake?’

  ‘That won’t wash. She will have heard you throw them out. Remember she was here when Sir Reginald kicked up a stink a few weeks ago – perhaps we can say it was something to do with him.’

  ‘That’s a good idea. I’ll tell her that fascist said we are communists or something and they were looking for evidence.’

  ‘As Russia is now allied to Germany, that would make sense.

  Ellie joined them and had been listening to the conversation. ‘I told Dad to go outside until the police had gone. Jack, do you mind speaking to Mrs B? Greg and I have so much to catch up on.’

  ‘Right. You go off. I’ll take care of this.’

  Greg put his arm around her shoulders. ‘Shall we go for a walk, Ellie?’

  They wandered off hand in hand leaving Jack to sort things out. As the whole bloody mess was caused by his uncle this was only fair. Mrs B accepted his explanation with a shrug. Fred had vanished somewhere.

  ‘He might be someone important but he was a nasty bit of work, if you want my opinion.’

  ‘I’ve got to go down to the airfield for a bit, but I’ll be back in time for lunch.’

  The other two had obviously forgotten that the office had been searched. The lock was probably smashed and the place ransacked. Good thing the RAF bloke took their paperwork home with him.

  Sure enough the door to the office hung drunkenly from its hinges and inside lived up to his worst expectations. Even the safe had been opened – presumably Joe had given them the necessary numbers. The bookshelf, with the piles of newspapers where the envelope had once been hidden, had been tipped face first onto the floor.

  If Uncle Joe had told them the numbers to open the safe then surely he would have said the envelope was in the newspapers? Jack hadn’t been able to speak to his uncle or aunt since he’d been shot. He’d tried ringing a few times but the number was now disconnected. He could only think that his aunt had moved away. He had been reluctant to contact the police in case it drew attention to himself.

  Today everything had changed. He no longer felt guilty about not passing on the incriminating list to the proper authorities. If they behaved like this then they were as bad as the fascists.

  It took him a couple of hours to repair the damage. He dumped the old newspapers in the back of his car. Mrs B could use them to light the fires when winter came. Paper of any sort was going to be in short supply pretty soon.

  He was disgusted to see that the petty cash tin had been emptied. This was another thing to go on the long list of complaints he intended to send to the Chief Constable of Essex. He knew exactly how much had been in the tin as Gladys kept impeccable records. He couldn’t prove one of the constables had filched it. No doubt he would be told that an opportunist could have stolen it. However, if they hadn’t left the safe door open then nobody else could have taken it. So whichever way you looked at it, they were culpable.

  The door was fully functioning and he doubted Gladys would even notice what had happened. It certainly looked a lot tidier now the piles of newspapers had gone. Satisfied he’d done everything necessary, he locked the office and drove back to the farm.

  He was just in time to pull on his overalls and go out and feed the pigs. From the sound of it Greg and Ellie were helping out with the milking.

  *

  Neil arrived the following day just as Mrs B was laying the table for the evening meal. Ellie rushed over and threw her arms around him.

  ‘Thank goodness you’re here, I was beginning to worry you weren’t coming after all.’

  He returned her hug, lifting her off her feet as he’d always used to when she was little. ‘I would have stopped at a telephone box and given you a call if there was a problem. I had to wait until the chap who lent me this car got back. As Greg and Jack are here before me, does that mean I’m sharing with one of them?’

  ‘You’ve got George’s room. Everyone’s changed tonight, including Dad. I don’t suppose you noticed how smart I’m looking?’

  ‘I can’t remember the last time I saw your legs, little sister, but very pretty they are. You should wear a frock more often.’ He lowered his voice. ‘I take it that you and Greg are now officially going out together?’

  ‘I suppose we are. I don’t want to get engaged or anything like that, but if we’re still together after the war then I might well marry him.’

  ‘I should bloody well hope so. You can’t keep the poor chap hanging on for years…’

  ‘Don’t say that, Neil, I couldn’t bear to think it might continue for as long as the last one.’ She’d heard quite enough of this depressing talk. ‘As the weather is still so wonderful we’ve been eating outside. Dad and Jack set up one of the trestles that were used for the party. The vicar has lent us half a dozen old chairs from the village hall so we don’t have to keep carrying them in and out every night.’

  She slipped her arm through his and led him out to join the others. Greg stood up to greet his friend but Jack just waved his glass of beer and Dad did the same. Mum, if ever she returned, would be horrified at how her high standards had slipped in her absence.

  ‘Welcome, son, there’s a bottle of beer in that bucket of water waiting for you.’

  Neil removed his jacket and tie and hung them over the back of a chair. ‘I’ll wear something more practical to help out tomorrow, Dad.’ He gestured towards Greg. ‘The uniform might be smart but it’s too hot in this weather.’

  ‘Are you as bored in Wattisham as I am at Hornchurch?’ Neil asked Greg.

  ‘Certainly am. At the moment we can’t even do training flights for reconnaissance as the navigation system is being upgraded.’

  ‘Are you up to strength?’

  ‘Absolutely, what about you? I think fighter pilots are going to be in high demand when this lot gets going.’

  *

  The evening passed pleasantly enough but the men wanted to talk about the progress of the war – or lack of it. She didn’t want to hear about the U-boat going into a bay in Scotland and sinking one of their ships. She tried to change the subject by waving the War Emergency information and instruction booklet that had arrived that morning in the post.

  After attempting to read them a few bits from it about identity labels, evacuation, and so on she was told to find herself a book if she was bored.

  ‘I’m going to help Mrs B with the chickens. We lost a duck last night to a fox and we want to make sure we get all the chickens in before it comes back again.’

  Greg jumped up. ‘I’ll give you a hand. Are we going to try and catch the ducks and put them in the barn as well?’

  Dad laughed. ‘Good luck with that, son, the pond’s four feet deep in the middle.’

  ‘I’m happy to sit up with a shotgun and see if I can shoot it for you,’ Neil offered, but he didn’t look too enthusiastic.

  ‘Don’t worry about it. What we need are a couple of outside dogs – they would keep foxes away.’

  Ellie was surprised but delighted by Dad’s suggestion. ‘I bet there are plenty of strays in London that need good homes, especially with so many families moving out of the city last month. We could go to Battersea tomorrow and find two that come from the same home so will already be friends.’

  ‘I’ll leave it to you then, love, but don’t get anything vicious. But as they can’t come in the house there’s no point in getting soft dogs.’

  She was bubbling with excitement. Having dogs at Glebe Farm would be a welcome distraction from what was going on in the world.

  Most of the chickens were already in the barn and it didn’t take long to shoo the rest in. The ducks were all safely settled on t
he small island in the centre of the pond and should be safe from attack tonight.

  ‘I’ll have to take Dad’s truck to London. I can hardly put them in the back of your MG.’

  ‘It might not be open on Sunday,’ Greg said.

  ‘I’ll give them a ring in the morning. Someone has to be there every day to look after the animals and I bet Sunday is one of their busiest days as most people get the day off from work.’

  ‘Where will they live if they can’t come in the house?’

  She pointed towards the empty stables. ‘In one of those – they’ll be lovely and warm even in winter. Come on, I’ll show you.’

  Although the loose boxes hadn’t been in use since the shires were sold they were still weatherproof and ideal to use as a kennel. She unhooked the top half of the door and hastily closed it again. The sudden scuffling inside had made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

  ‘There are rats in here. Battersea has cats as well – I think I’m also going to bring back two of those. Mum wouldn’t have domestic animals on the premises. I’m pretty sure it was her that insisted the horses went as well. Strange really, coming from her background one would have thought she would want to go out with the hunt, but as far as I know she didn’t ride.’

  He didn’t answer. He was standing so close she could feel his breath on the back of her neck. A wave of unexpected warmth surged around her. Then his arms encircled her and she forgot all about rats, cats or dogs. His kiss was different this time, harder, more demanding and she responded. She was breathless when he eventually raised his head.

  ‘Ellie, darling, you know I’ve fallen in love with you.’

  She rested her face against his shoulder until her breathing steadied, unable to respond immediately.

  ‘God! I’m sorry. I’m rushing things…’

  ‘No, Greg, you’re not. I think I’m beginning to feel the same.’

  His arms tightened but she raised her hands and pushed against his chest. Instantly he released her. ‘Please don’t rush me, this is all new to me. I’ve never even had a boyfriend before, I need time to get used to these feelings.’

  He dropped a kiss on the top of her head. ‘I’ll wait as long as you want, sweetheart. Now I know I’m in with a chance, that you’re not falling for Jack, I’m happy.’

  ‘Jack? Good grief, I’ve not even considered him in that way. I like him a lot, but he’s just another big brother to me, nothing more.

  Twenty

  Ellie returned from Battersea delighted with the animals she and Greg had chosen. ‘I can’t believe we were able to find two cats and two dogs that had come from the same home.’

  She turned and peered through the grimy window at the back of the cab. The two female cats, both black and white, were curled up with the two long-haired brown mongrels as before.

  ‘We were lucky as the chap in charge said they don’t usually let animals out until they’ve been given a proper check by the vet. As we wanted all of them he made an exception.’ He was driving as Ellie wasn’t confident enough to find her way through London.

  ‘They come from a good home. It’s sad that the family has been split up like this. The children have been evacuated and their dad is with the BEF in France. The mum has taken a job in a factory and doesn’t have time to look after them anymore.’

  ‘The fact that the dogs are called Jack and Jasper might well prove amusing – or possibly confusing. Which reminds me, sweetheart, is Jack Reynolds a permanent fixture in your house? I’m surprised he hasn’t found himself different lodgings now he’s recovered.’

  ‘It’s convenient having him with us. I get lifts and Mrs B has my bicycle. He and my dad are thick as thieves and Jack’s been a godsend since Dad had his stroke.’

  Greg squeezed her knee and she glanced across at him. ‘I’m glad he’s there. He can take care of himself, and you, if the need arises. I don’t think we’ve heard the last from that police inspector. He was a thug and he’ll be back at some point with the proper papers.’

  ‘Jack said they wrecked the office – they’d better not try that in my house. I think the letter we sent to the Chief Constable might put them off for a bit; he should get that tomorrow or the next day and hopefully will reprimand the inspector.’

  ‘I shouldn’t be too sure about that, Ellie, there’s a war on and the normal rules and regulations no longer apply. If they know what was in the envelope, that it contained the names of possible traitors, they’ll tear the place apart trying to find it.’

  A flicker of unease ran through her. ‘I should have realised that. If there’s a black mark against our name for any reason then this could be the end of my brothers’ careers in the RAF.’ She swallowed the lump in her throat as something else occurred to her. ‘Do you think we’ll still be able to work with the RAF?’

  ‘I’ve no idea, but I doubt anything will happen for a few days. You’ll have to talk to Jack.’

  ‘In which case I can think of only one solution. Being raided by the police again might cause Dad to have another stroke.’

  *

  The cats, Sooty and Spot, purred when she lifted them out of the truck. The two dogs bounded after them and immediately ran to the bushes to relieve themselves. She had no need to call them back as they were bouncing around her feet minutes later.

  She dropped the cats in the stable and the dogs dashed in behind their feline friends. She hastily closed the bottom half of the stable door. ‘The man at Battersea said we should keep the cats shut in for several days, but I don’t think they’ll run away as long as the dogs are here.’

  Neil and Jack had heard them arrive and came to inspect the new arrivals. ‘Isn’t Dad coming to see them?’

  ‘He’s asleep, seemed a pity to wake him. Jack and I are going to do the milking tonight. Will you and Greg feed the pigs?’

  ‘Of course. Before we go inside there’s something we have to talk about.’ She led them to the far side of the yard and into the barn that had been used as a bar the last night her mother had been at Glebe Farm.

  ‘I’ve come to a decision and I hope it’s the right thing to do. Neil, our mother abandoned us without a second thought to go and live with a traitor. I don’t think we owe her anything. What’s important is to protect Dad from any unnecessary shocks. Do you agree?’

  ‘I do. I think I can guess what you’re going to suggest but I’ll leave you to tell us in case I’m wrong.’

  ‘I didn’t tell any of you but I made a copy of that list before I hid it. I’m not sure why I did, but I thought it might be important later.’ She looked from one to the other and they were all watching her intently.

  ‘I think we should get in touch with someone in authority and tell them exactly what’s happened. Give them a copy of the names on the list. I know it’s not an ideal solution, and might well have unpleasant repercussions, but it’s the only thing that will protect Dad.’

  Jack looked dubious, not surprisingly, as his family was up to their necks in the conspiracy. Greg moved until he was standing directly behind her; his solidity was a comfort.

  Neil broke the silence. ‘Good God! You can’t do that, Ellie. This could ruin us.’

  ‘It won’t do anything to us financially, and I don’t see why any muck will stick. Nobody around here is aware that we’re related to Sir Reginald; even if it does get in the national papers it shouldn’t make any difference.’

  ‘You’re naive if you think a nosy journalist won’t ferret out that George and I are related to him.’ Her brother’s eyes were hard – he looked like a stranger.

  Instinctively she leaned back and Greg’s arms encircled her waist giving her welcome reassurance. However, it was Jack who stepped in with further bad news.

  ‘I’ve not had the opportunity to tell you that the RAF cadets won’t be coming to us anymore. As of today, Glebe Aero Club is done. It has nothing to do with the other business as far as I know, it’s a directive from the War Office. I’m arranging to sell the aircraft
and I’ve already told the staff. They will be coming in tomorrow to collect their last pay slip and wages.’

  She turned into Greg’s embrace and rested her wet cheek on his shoulder. The dream was over. Civilians couldn’t fly anymore and from now on she would be a farm worker.

  *

  Jack hated seeing Ellie cry, but it wasn’t his responsibility to comfort her. He hadn’t told her the worst – that was his problem not hers. His aunt had written to him saying that his uncle had been charged with blackmail and receiving stolen goods. He’d pleaded guilty and been sentenced to five years. It was unlikely he’d ever hear from either of them again as she’d failed to provide a return address on her letter.

  He didn’t think he could remain at Glebe Farm and he had nowhere else to go. The money from the sale of the aircraft would be sufficient to keep him solvent until he joined the RAF. Although he wasn’t sure the nephew of a convicted criminal would be welcome in the elite branch of the armed forces.

  ‘I’ll move out as soon as I’ve sold the aircraft….’

  She wrenched herself away from Greg and rushed over to him. ‘Please, Jack, you can’t go. Dad needs you to help him on the farm. Won’t you stay until you join the RAF? I heard on the wireless that only reservists, volunteers and men between twenty and twenty-one are needed at the moment. You should be able to stay for another few months.’

  He couldn’t refuse her tearful appeal. ‘I’d love to stay but you and Fred had better decide after you hear the rest of my news.’

  Over a much-needed cuppa he told them and was surprised that they sympathised rather than condemned.

  ‘I don’t care about Joe Cross, lad, as far as I’m concerned you’re one of the family. You stay with us as long as you want to – you’re a natural when it comes to farming and I’d be sorry to see you go.’

  This compliment didn’t go down too well with Neil and Jack didn’t blame him. The inference was that Fred’s sons were somehow lacking and that he favoured a stranger.

  Ellie, who was sitting next to Greg on the sofa, endorsed her father’s remark. ‘There’s no need to look so po-faced, Neil, you know that neither you nor George are at all interested in farming. You’ve made it very clear that you intend to make flying your career. You should be pleased Jack’s taking an interest and is prepared to help out. In case you haven’t noticed we’re already shorthanded, and with more land under cultivation it’s going to get even more difficult.’