Into The Unknown

by Lorna Peel

  “Do you want to do that later? Kate and I are going to walk to a farm Mrs Hodges told us about and see if we can buy some eggs and milk.” He held up a half-gallon milk can Kate had found in the larder. “Come with us and we’ll be able to see more of the village.”

  “Yes, all right.” Toby put a record on top of the stack and both boys went for their coats.

  Reaching the village shop, Charlie went inside and bought a newspaper. He stood and read a little before going outside again. The air-raid was described as the worst raid yet made on any place in Britain. Between four hundred and fifty and five hundred Luftwaffe planes took part, dropping over one hundred thousand firebombs. The report went on patriotically saying how the civil defence battled heroically and that Mr Churchill and his wife toured the damaged areas.

  Charlie sighed, closed the newspaper and caught Mr Gibson giving him a sympathetic glance. He smiled weakly and went outside, not wanting to hear any more niceties, well-meant though they may be.

  Kate was in the post office posting the letter to her parents. Please don’t let her awful father throw a tantrum and order her back to Ireland, Charlie begged silently. He needed her now more than ever. They all needed each other. If they were to be separated now…

  When she came out, he couldn’t help himself. He kissed her passionately with Mr Gibson, Mr Duke – and whatever the postmaster’s name was – along with numerous shoppers all looking on in astonishment. Toby and Clive began to squirm with embarrassment but he took no notice.

  “I’m sorry, but I love you so much,” he told her and she smiled.

  “There’s no need to be sorry. I’m not.”

  “Did you have to do that?” Clive asked. “Everyone was watching.”

  “I love her,” Charlie replied simply.

  “Yes, but in the street..?”

  “Oh, come on—” he began and stopped. He had been about to say, “You sound just like Mother.”

  “I’m sorry if we embarrassed you,” Kate said.

  “I thought it was nice.” Toby grinned and dug Clive in the ribs.

  “I suppose so,” he conceded with a shrug.

  They walked on to Feathertown and made themselves known to Mrs Rowlands, who was feeding hens in the farmyard.

  “Eggs and milk? Of course.” She took the milk can from Charlie. “From London, are you?”

  “That’s right,” Charlie replied. “Clive and I are nephews of Winnie Cottle.”

  “Winnie?” she exclaimed and clapped a hand to her cheek. “Then you’re… oh, I’m sorry.”

  “Mrs Hodges?” Charlie asked and Mrs Rowlands nodded.

  “She’s an awful gossip. I may as well tell you that the whole village probably knows about you by now. I’m sorry.”

  Kate scowled, Clive and Toby were silent and he pressed his lips together. The bloody woman. Still, he reflected, at least she had saved him the torture of having to tell everyone, and he found himself feeling strangely grateful to her.

  “Well, we’ll be here for three months,” he told Mrs Rowlands. “We’ll need some firewood, too.”

  “Your auntie got her wood from us. We’ll bring you down a trailer load later. It’s ash, and well-seasoned.”

  “Thank you.” He watched her go into the farmhouse and return with a large box of eggs and the milk can, which she handed to Toby, and he quickly counted. “A dozen eggs, half a gallon of milk and the firewood. “How much do I owe you?”

  “Oh.” She tossed her head dismissively. “You’re in the RAF and the WAAF, aren’t you? You were in the battle last summer?”

  “Yes.” Both he and Kate answered at the same time.

  “Well, let’s call it two shillings the lot.”

  “Two?” Charlie’s jaw dropped. Two shillings was a ridiculously small amount to pay.

  “I’ll hear no arguments.” Mrs Rowlands was adamant. “Let’s just call it a thank you for what you did last summer, a help to you in this terrible time, and a sorry that you’re living next door to Mrs Hodges.”

  Charlie shook her hand. “It’s very generous of you. Thank you.”

  “I know what you’re going through.” Her voice shook suddenly. “My Len and I lost our youngest boy at Dunkirk.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I was in France myself.”

  “You were? You were lucky to come back.”

  “I know I was. Thank you, Mrs Rowlands.”

  “Poor woman,” Kate commented as they walked back to the village.

  That afternoon, they were cleaning out the garden shed in preparation for the arrival of the firewood when they heard a shout and a tall figure appeared around the side of the cottage.

  “Hello, there.”

  Charlie shielded his eyes against the sun and saw Kate come to the back door before squinting at the stranger. How odd, Charlie thought, walking down the garden to greet the man. He looks like a vicar but he can’t be more than thirty.

  “I’m John Richards, vicar of this parish. Mrs Hodges—”

  “Told you all about us?” Charlie finished, forcing a smile.

  “Am I disturbing you?” The vicar peered past him at the shed.

  “No, we’re all but finished. I’m Charlie Butler,” he said and they shook hands. “Come in.” They went into the living room and sat down. “This is Clive, my brother; his friend, Toby Williams, and,” he smiled at her, “his cousin and my girlfriend, Kate Sheridan.”

  The vicar nodded to them all then turned back to Charlie with a sombre expression. Here we go. Charlie braced himself.

  “Mrs Hodges told me all about you, yes, but only what she thought I would like to hear. It was nothing but gossip, which isn’t surprising. She really is a nosy old bat.”

  Charlie inhaled and began to cough. He shot a glance at Kate but she was laughing, as were Toby and Clive. He grinned at the vicar in relief. “Thank goodness someone else thinks so.”

  “I’ve been here a year and she has been the bane of both my life and my wife’s. Please take no notice of her.”

  “We won’t.”

  “The backbone of what she told me I took for the truth. You have my deepest condolences.”

  “Thank you, Vicar.”

  “Oh.” He waved a hand. “John, please. She told me you weren’t churchgoers. I’m not offended, don’t worry. I’m glad you were blunt. I’d say half my parishioners only attend services to show off their new dress or suit.”

  Charlie pursed his lips. He was probably right.

  “Would you like a cup of tea or coffee?” Kate asked.

  “No, thank you, Kate, I’m not long after my dinner. How long have you and Charlie known each other?”

  “Just over a year,” she replied. “And whatever you were told about our sleeping arrangements is true.”

  Charlie glanced at her and she winked at him. He winked back, then waited to see what John’s reaction was.

  “In a cottage with only two bedrooms, you can hardly be expected to sleep on the sofa.” John smiled in a knowing but not unkind way, showing he didn’t care at all.

  Kate laughed and Charlie warmed to him immediately.

  “What about you two?” John turned to Toby and Clive. “Have you ever had the misfortune to come across a Mrs Hodges-type before?”

  They exchanged smiles. “Yes, one of our teachers at school, our French mistress,” Toby replied. “She’s awful.”

  “You’re off school?”

  “Yes. We’ve been given the rest of the term off.”

  John nodded. “Of course. Now, no obligation to go, boys, but we do have a table tennis club. It’s at eight on Saturday evenings in the church hall, if you felt like getting out and meeting some locals. An added bonus is that Mrs Hodges doesn’t go.”

  They all laughed.

  “We’re in a team at school,” Clive said. “We’ll come. Thank you.”

  “Excellent.” John got up and shook their hands. “Call to the vicarage anytime you’re passing. I can’t promise to be there, but Lucy will
be glad to meet people who aren’t on the Parish Council or in the Women’s Institute.”

  “We will,” Charlie replied and he and Kate saw the vicar out. “Thank you for calling.”

  “Not at all.” John glanced up the street at an approaching tractor pulling a trailer full of wood. “Is this load for you?”

  “It is,” Charlie told him. “It should keep us going for a bit.”

  “It will. I’ll be off, then. Goodbye.”

  “Goodbye.” Charlie put an arm around Kate’s waist as they went out to greet Len Rowlands.

  Len proved to be less talkative than his wife, but greeted them warmly and asked for a wheelbarrow. They spent the next couple of hours carrying and wheeling the blocks of wood from the road, down the garden and piling them beside the shed.

  “You’ve got an axe, I hope?” Len asked.

  “Yes, we do,” Charlie replied. “It’s a bit blunt, though.”

  “Jack Brown will sharpen it for you. He’s the village handyman and lives next door to the school. He’s caretaker, too.”

  The next morning Charlie had the axe sharpened and he, Clive and Toby set to work splitting the blocks and stacking the pieces in the shed with Mrs Hodges keeping her beady eyes on them as she hung out her washing. Kate was in the kitchen and waved out to them every now and again as she baked more bread and gave them marks out of ten for how many strikes it took them to split the blocks.

  It was his birthday in a few days’ time, but he didn’t feel like celebrating.

  On the day, he and the boys worked on the blocks again until Kate called them inside for dinner. It was dusk, but she hadn’t switched the light on. He stared at the sponge cake on the kitchen table with a single candle in the centre and felt a lump in his throat as she came forward and kissed him.

  “Happy birthday. You didn’t think we’d forget, did you?”

  “I didn’t think you’d have enough ration coupons to bake a cake.”

  “I did. Just about. Only the second day with them, too, but still. Make a wish.”

  He leant over the table and blew out the candle, wishing they would always be safe and happy from then on. He blinked as the light came on and saw everything was blurred by his tears.

  “I’m sorry,” he gasped, pulling out a chair and sitting down. He hadn’t been at home on his birthday for years, but this year there would be no letter, present, or telephone call to his parents.

  He saw Clive biting his lips and Toby quickly turned to Kate but she was already kneeling beside him.

  “I didn’t mean to upset you,” she whispered, kissing his tears away. “I’m sorry.”

  “No.” He shook his head. “I was just remembering the last birthday cake I had at home. Remember?” He looked up at Clive, who nodded. “I was eighteen. Mother, Father – Granny was still alive – Billy and poor Jack were there. Now Clive, Billy, and me are the only ones left. Thank you.” He smiled at Kate. She was very apologetic; he really shouldn’t be crying like this.

  “We got you a couple of presents,” she said, wiping his tears away with her fingers and Toby passed her a small black box. “This is from me, Charlie.” She handed it to him. “I got it in London ages ago.”

  He opened it and smiled at a metallic silver cigarette box with, To Charlie, all my love, Kate and the date inscribed on the lid.

  “It’s perfect, thank you,” he said, hugging and kissing her.

  “This is from us.” Clive passed him a flat, square package and he pulled off the brown wrapping paper revealing a Glenn Miller record.

  “Thanks.” Reaching out, he squeezed their arms gratefully.

  “And this is from the three of us.” Kate straightened up and gestured to Toby, who carried something out of the larder. It was a young copper beech tree. “We said we’d get one. We’ll plant it tomorrow.”

  He ran his fingers over the tree’s leaves then got up and embraced the three of them at once, fighting back more tears. “Thank you,” was all he could manage.

  Clive and Toby left for the table tennis club at a quarter to eight that evening and Kate came to him and sat on his lap.

  “We didn’t mean to make you cry,” she whispered. “But we couldn’t ignore your birthday. Twenty-nine.” She kissed his forehead. “I love you, Charlie.”

  “I love you.” He stroked her hair realising this was the first time they had been alone in the house since their arrival. She moved on his lap to find a more comfortable position and he gazed at her. “I don’t know what I would do without you.” Her white blouse was open at the neck and he glanced down her front, feeling desire for the first time in months. “I love you so much.”

  Would it be too much for him to make love to her? Would she want to? Was it too soon? She slowly unbuttoned his shirt and he swallowed noisily as her hands smoothed over his chest. Go on, he urged her, closing his eyes but, to his dismay, she stopped.

  “I’m sorry, Charlie,” she said and began to slide off his knees.

  “What?” He quickly caught her around the waist. “Kate?”

  “I can’t expect you… no.” She bit her lips. “I’ve upset you again.”

  “Upset me? No, you haven’t. Do you want to?”

  “I thought it might help you, make you forget, even if it’s only for a few minutes.”

  “Do you want to?” he asked again with a frown. She was prepared to hand herself to him on a plate but he couldn’t, only if she wanted to as well. “I want to, but tell me the truth.”

  She met his eyes and nodded. “I want…” She gasped and sniffed. “I want you to help me forget, too, Charlie.” She burst into tears. “I keep seeing them,” she wept, her hair falling over her face. “I keep seeing the houses on fire and everyone inside. I don’t even know if they were inside.” She sniffed again. “They were probably in the shelters, but I just keep seeing them inside anyway…”

  He held her tightly as she sobbed on his shoulder. What she had seen and gone through. Seeing the houses first, having to tell him, then the boys and then her mother. Having to be a ‘mother’ to them all. Good God, she was only twenty years old…

  “Kate.” Lifting her head, he kissed her wet cheeks. “You’re doing too much. You cook, clean and do the washing. I don’t know what mothers do in Ireland, but you are not our mother and you shouldn’t try to be. I’m going to help more and the boys are, too. I managed the stew the other day and the boys made the porridge. We’re all going to pull our weight. I love you too much and the boys love you too much to see you fall apart.”

  Another tear trickled down her cheek. “Thank you.”

  “No, don’t thank us. I said the first day we were here that we were all going to pull our weight. That seems to have gone by the wayside the last couple of days, but tomorrow we’ll start again.” He finished with a determined nod and, to his relief, she smiled.

  “I love you, Charlie.”

  “Oh, I love you,” he whispered and they exchanged a grin.

  She slid off his knees, went out and he stood the spark guard in front of the fire and turned the light off. He opened the curtains then followed her into their bedroom. He found the box of condoms in the bottom of the wardrobe, a year old now, took one out and gazed at her. She was sitting naked at the dressing table while brushing her hair.

  “Won’t you join me?” she invited.

  He got undressed with her watching him in the mirror. He sat behind her on the stool, took the brush and began to brush her hair.

  Once done, she got up. “My turn.” Sitting behind him with the brush, she guided it through his hair before finishing it off with her fingers. Goose pimples began to break out on his back and shoulders and she laughed. “Cold?”

  “What do you think?” Turning around, he held her gaze until she blushed. Then she laughed and began to kiss him.

  “I think,” she said, raising her eyebrows, “you’re quite warm now.”

  He nodded, hardly able to believe how quickly she had aroused him. She led him to the bed, laid
him down and climbed over him, her hands smoothing all over his body – his face, chest, stomach – moving steadily lower.

  “Oh, Christ, Kate.” His groin was throbbing, he couldn’t wait any longer and he made a grab for her. She slipped out of his grasp and he moaned with a combination of pain and desire. “Bloody hell, Kate.” He began to thrash about. “What are you doing? I have to. Now.”

  “Don’t panic,” she replied with a laugh. “You get so worked up.”

  “Come on.” He tried to grab her again but again he missed. “What the fuck are you doing?”

  “Don’t swear,” she told him lightly, clasping his hands. “Hold on, it’ll be worth the wait.” She kissed them, then let them go.

  He wasn’t in a position to do anything other than do as he was told. He closed his eyes and could hear her with a condom. Christ, he’d never had to wait this long before. The condom in place, he heard her giggling and opened his eyes.

  “Now, if you’d had your way it would be all over by now,” she said, leaning over him. “Say thank you?”

  “Kate.”

  She laughed, taking his hands, and placing them around her waist. “Shush,” she whispered, climbing over him. “It’ll be worth the wait.”

  It was. He was bursting with desire. He had to have her – and now. He thrust up into her as she rocked her hips to meet him, her breasts swaying in the dim light of the bedroom. He had to show her what it was like for it to be uncontrollable, beyond everything – like now. He held her tightly as she writhed against him, feeling the fierce clenching of her muscles tightening around him as she came. The low moans from the back of her throat sent him over the edge. He threw back his head and roared.

  He’d never made love like this before. Christ, she was unbelievable. He held her, safe in the knowledge that for those precious moments all had been forgotten except them.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Kate lay on top of Charlie and smiled. What they had just done… She felt his hands smooth up and down her back. She had wanted him to forget everything apart from them for those few minutes and, judging by his contented smile, he had. She slowly raised herself, leant on her hands, and he opened his eyes.