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Into The Unknown

Page 17

by Lorna Peel


  Kate winced, hearing the hope in her mother’s voice. “He did, Mummy. There won’t be. I’m sorry.”

  “Oh.” There was a crack in Mrs Sheridan’s voice.

  “After breakfast, we’ll show you the tree we planted in the garden for them. It’s a lovely copper beech.”

  “Helen loved trees, was always climbing them when she was little. Oh, Kate, I can’t believe they’re all gone.”

  “I know.” Kate stroked her mother’s hair as Mrs Sheridan began to cry.

  Chapter Fourteen

  In the living room, Charlie and Kate’s father stood uneasily in front of the fireplace. Clive and Toby had retreated to their bedroom, and he couldn’t blame them. He glanced sideways at Mr Sheridan. What an awful man. Kate’s father then glanced sideways at him and Charlie coloured. What now?

  “You’ve known my daughter for over a year?” Mr Sheridan asked.

  “That’s right.”

  “Who was it that persuaded her to enlist? You or Bob?”

  Charlie shrugged. “She decided herself.”

  “But Bob signed her in?”

  “Kate can be quite persuasive,” he replied and immediately regretted it.

  “I’m very disappointed in her. In Ireland, nice girls can manage to wait until their wedding night.”

  “It was that way here too, Mr Sheridan. But the war… can you understand?”

  “The war,” Kate’s father cried. “Everything is put down to the bloody war. You hurt my daughter, Butler, and I’ll kill you with my bare hands. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Perfectly,” Charlie replied.

  “There won’t be any funerals, will there?”

  Charlie swallowed, hating having to think of it. “No. The houses were gutted. Everything in them was burnt and the shelters in the gardens were completely destroyed,” he explained and the older man nodded.

  “I see.”

  “About Toby, Mr Sheridan. I am in the process of making myself his guardian, as well as Clive. Kate isn’t old enough.”

  He waited, wondering what the other man would say or do. To his surprise, Kate’s father nodded again.

  “You’re right, Charlie. Can I call you Charlie?”

  “Please do,” he said.

  “What are you going to do about school? As I remember, they were at an expensive one.”

  “I spoke with the headmaster and the boys have been awarded bursaries. It’s a great relief; I didn’t want to have to move them.”

  “Quite right.”

  “Breakfast’s ready,” Kate announced, standing in the doorway. “Come and have some tea, Daddy.”

  “Come here, Kate.” Mr Sheridan turned to her and Charlie watched as she did as she was told. “I’m sorry for shouting.”

  “I’m not a child anymore, Daddy.”

  “I know.” He kissed her forehead. “But when you left home, you were my little girl. Now.” He looked up at Charlie, who remained as impassive as he could. “Now you’re a woman and I’m just your silly old father. Will you give him a hug?”

  Kate smiled and hugged him while Charlie looked down at his feet. He had no father to hug anymore and it hurt like hell.

  “Charlie?” she whispered and he raised his head. “You can always hug me?”

  He swallowed the lump in his throat. He so wanted to. But with her father there..?

  Kate’s father smiled for the first time and patted his shoulder. “Go on, hug her.”

  He nodded and held Kate in his arms. When he released her, Mr Sheridan was holding out a hand.

  “I’ve seen all the proof I need, lad.”

  Stunned, Charlie shook it and watched as he left the room. God Almighty, one minute the man was threatening him, the next he was giving him his blessing.

  “I’m sorry,” Kate murmured. “He’s always been a bit unpredictable.”

  After breakfast, they took Kate’s parents out to the garden to see the tree. Mrs Sheridan burst into tears and Charlie peered around in alarm for Mrs Hodges, then remembered with relief that she would be at church.

  “How long are you staying?” Kate asked the question he desperately wanted the answer to as they went back inside.

  “I’ve taken a week off work,” her father replied. “So another three or four days, if you can put up with us?”

  “Daddy.” She laughed.

  “Your leave finishes at the end of July. What are Toby and Clive going to do until they go back to school in September?”

  Charlie exchanged a frown with Kate. They hadn’t thought that far forward yet.

  “We’ll be fine here by ourselves,” Toby replied. “I don’t think we need babysitting anymore.”

  “Oh?” Charlie’s eyebrows shot up. “Are you sure?”

  “Positive. I’m sure we’ll have Mrs Hodges popping round every five minutes anyway.”

  “Mrs Hodges lives next door,” Kate explained.

  “Charlie’s convinced she’s a witch.” Clive grinned. “I don’t know how many times he’s nearly called her one.”

  Even though he was glad Kate had seen her parents, Charlie was more than thankful when they waved them off on Wednesday. The previous day, Mr and Mrs Sheridan had gone into London to see what remained of Dunstan Street and had returned to Market Kirby shocked and stunned. Kate’s mother was a lovely woman, reminding him so much of Helen at times it was disconcerting.

  Kate’s father on the other hand, well, Charlie didn’t know what to make of him. Mr Sheridan never repeated his threat and was polite, but Charlie knew it would only take something very small to provoke him again. When Saturday evening came it was all he could do not to push Clive and Toby out of the house to table tennis. Clive clearly knew what was wrong and gave him a knowing wink before leaving.

  “We’ll try and be as long as possible.”

  Charlie closed the front door after them and grinned. He was beginning to think he was far too easy to read, especially when he found Kate in bed waiting for him.

  “I think,” she said softly, as they lay entwined after making love. “You kept expecting my father to walk in.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry.” He groaned; he hadn’t found it very satisfying either. “I just couldn’t help but think about a lot of what your father said.”

  “Like what?”

  “When he said you should have gone to America.”

  “I’m glad Mummy got her way and I came to England. Anyway,” she raised herself onto an elbow, “how dare you think about America when you’re making love to me.”

  “Well, I won’t this time.” He grabbed her and she squealed with laughter.

  It was a relaxing summer with swimming trips, welcome visits from first Billy and then Jean, picnics, and making love – crazy, unbelievable love – to Kate on Saturday nights. The days and weeks rushed by, and as another Saturday night came to an end, Charlie realised with a shock that it was their last.

  It was the end of July. He and Kate had to report back for duty the following Wednesday. Back in April, the weeks and months had stretched out ahead of him. He hadn’t known how they were going to fill them, but now he felt like a schoolboy having to go back to school. Thinking of school, he sat the two boys down on the last evening.

  “It’s your final year. Any idea what you want to do?”

  Clive and Toby exchanged an I-knew-this-was-coming glance and smiled.

  “We’re going to join the RAF,” Toby told him.

  Charlie nodded. He should have expected it. “Well, you’ve got a year to fully make your minds up. Decide, too, if you want to make a career out of it, or if there’s something else you want to do when the war’s over.”

  “Whenever that’ll be,” Clive muttered. “No, we want to make careers in the RAF. If you can do it…”

  Charlie’s mouth fell open and Kate roared with laughter at them.

  “That’s charming,” he retorted but laughed. “Well, I won’t mind if you want to change your minds.”

  “We won’t,” Toby repl
ied.

  “You have telephone numbers and addresses for my base and Kate’s Sector Station. If there’s anything, telephone or write.”

  “We will.” Clive smiled. “When we came here, the world might as well have ended. Thank you – and you, Kate.”

  “We all helped each other,” Charlie said simply as Kate nodded. “Thank you, too.”

  He was to drive Kate back to her Sector Station before going on to his base and Clive and Toby were up early to see them off.

  “Keep out of the old witch’s way, but no doubt she’ll come nosing around,” Charlie told them. “John’s promised to keep an eye out for you, too. Give them hell at table tennis.” He hugged them both tightly then made way for Kate.

  “If there’s anything,” she repeated.

  “We know.” Toby hugged and kissed her.

  “Please take Charlie away.” Clive laughed and waved them off.

  Passing through the gates of the Sector Station, Kate was quiet and he didn’t want to let her go.

  “If there’s anything, Kate,” he whispered. “Telephone.”

  She nodded. “You, too.”

  “I hated leaving them.”

  “I know, but we can trust John to look out for them and tell us what they’re up to.”

  “I hate leaving you,” he croaked, hoping he wasn’t going to cry.

  “Oh, Charlie.” She leaned over and kissed him. “I’ll write as often as I can. You write, too.”

  “I will.” He kissed her, then watched as she got out of the car and retrieved her suitcase.

  “I love you,” she whispered.

  “I love you,” he replied and, with a knot in his stomach, watched her walk away towards a cluster of huts. “Christ.” He swore as he drove out of the gates, feeling tears on his cheeks. “You’re bloody crying again.”

  Seconds after Charlie put his suitcase down on his bed, Billy burst into the room.

  “I saw your car,” he said and held out a hand. “How are you?”

  “Oh.” Charlie shook it, then shrugged. “I’m all right. Well, I was. Kate and I had to leave the boys in Market Kirby. I hated having to leave her, too.”

  “How is she?”

  “She feels the same. We’ve got used to it now. Had to really, but…” He tailed off and took off his cap. “How are things here? I tried to keep up with things in the papers, but you know what they’re like.”

  Billy nodded. “Squadron Leader wants to see you for a briefing.”

  “Now?” Charlie groaned.

  “Afraid so.”

  Bombers were being sent over the English Channel supported by fighters, and Charlie was put in charge of A Flight Hurricane Squadron.

  Since the invasion of Russia in June, Luftwaffe commander-in-chief Hermann Goering had been forced to move more and more fighters back to France to meet the sweeps being made.

  According to Squadron Leader Clarke, RAF fighters were being met by packs of around forty Luftwaffe planes. But the numbers were looking good. RAF planes were destroying three Luftwaffe planes to their two. RAF bombers were generally surviving, too.

  Charlie was told that the CO wanted to see him as well and stood outside his office lost in thoughts, plans and ideas before being called in.

  “Charlie.” The CO got up from the chair behind the desk as Charlie saluted him and shook his hand warmly. “How are you?”

  “Very well, thank you, sir. Thank you for all your help.”

  “Not at all, it was a terrible time for you.”

  “Yes, it was,” Charlie replied.

  “How are your brother and his friend, and, don’t – let me think of her name – Kate Sheridan?”

  “They’re very well, too, thank you, sir.”

  “Been briefed?” the CO added.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Mmm, escorting bombers. Your lads can’t wait to meet you. They’re good boys.”

  Charlie just stopped himself from grimacing. Boys. Probably no more than eighteen and nineteen years old.

  “A few days practice and you’ll be fine. You’re a good pilot and commander, Charlie; the boys will look up to you.”

  “Thank you, sir,” he replied, his heart sinking.

  A Hurricane squadron full of boys. Bloody hell! He groaned as he went into the Officers’ Mess. The room was foggy with cigarette smoke, the wireless was turned up far too loud, and they were singing along to some awful George Formby song. He watched them all for a moment before they noticed him. One pilot officer caught sight of him leaning back against the door and nudges were passed on. The wireless was quickly switched off and they all stood up, saluted, then stared at him.

  Charlie stared back. No doubt Billy had filled them in with all the details. Their Flight Commander was a granddad – almost thirty – had lost his parents in a bombing raid and had the most beautiful girl in the WAAF for a girlfriend. Here he was, back after three months leave, was he still up to it? He was silent for so long they all began to shuffle.

  “I’m Charlie Butler,” he announced, “and I hate…” He tailed off and they all stared at him in alarm. “I hate bloody George Formby. Don’t you have any jazz?” A grin spread across his face and within seconds everyone was roaring with laughter and he held up his hands to quieten them. “Now, I don’t know what Billy’s been telling you all – I have had a rough time of it – but I’m back and I’m going to keep you all busy.”

  They all laughed again and he was rewarded with a wink from Billy. The ice was broken.

  He was busy for the next week in practice. The boys were all good pilots and their first escort mission was uneventful, which disappointed Charlie. He more than made up for it some weeks later when he shot down a Messerschmitt 109, which had dared to try and intercept them. As he and Billy walked from their planes to be debriefed, he caught his friend glancing at him.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” Billy replied. “Well, it’s just that you got a bit carried away when you shot down that 109.”

  “It was my fifth, I think I could afford to.”

  “Charlie.” Billy grimaced. “You were screaming at it as it went down.”

  “Was I?”

  “Yes, you were going on about your parents, too.”

  “Oh?” He couldn’t remember and Billy gave him a sympathetic smile.

  “We’ll have a chat later, yes?”

  “All right.”

  He caught some of the boys staring at him as he made his way to his room later on with Billy following. They congratulated him on his fifth kill, but most seemed taken aback. Bloody hell, what had he said?

  “Charlie,” Billy began, closing the door. “I can understand you might want to get revenge on what happened in Dunstan Street but—”

  “But what?” he demanded, throwing his cap onto the bed.

  “It was clear to us that you’d got the 109, but you just kept on firing and screaming until it had gone down into the sea, you’d run out of ammunition – and things to say.”

  “I needed to get the anger out.”

  “And have you?”

  Charlie bit his nails and raised his eyebrows. “Some of it,” he muttered with a sigh and Billy shrugged.

  “You got post today. Anything from Kate?”

  “Yes. And from Toby and Clive. They’re back at school, having extra classes to catch up, and loving every minute of it.”

  “And Kate?”

  “She seems well. She says she misses me.” He smiled, reaching for a packet of cigarettes and a box of matches on top of his bedside locker, and offering Billy one. “I must try to get out and buy her a birthday present soon. She’ll be twenty-one.”

  “Twenty-one.” Billy grinned, taking a cigarette. “Do you remember the combined party we had – you, me, and Jack – for our twenty-firsts?”

  “No,” Charlie replied, selecting a cigarette and putting it between his lips before lighting it then Billy’s. “I was so drunk I couldn’t even remember my name,” he added and they
laughed.

  “What will you get Kate?” Billy asked. “No, don’t tell me – an engagement ring. Make an honest woman of her?”

  Charlie glared at him. “No,” he snapped.

  “No?” Billy’s mouth fell open. “Don’t you want to marry her?”

  “Of course I want to bloody marry her and I told that to her bloody father. I just don’t want to leave her a widow.”

  “Oh, well, if you’re going to think like that…”

  “I said no,” Charlie told him adamantly.

  “All right.” Billy pursed his lips and Charlie could tell he was puzzled. “What’s her father really like?”

  “A gorilla,” he replied and drew on the cigarette.

  “Because?” Billy prompted.

  “He and Kate’s mother arrived while we were still in bed. I got up to answer the front door and he didn’t have to be too clever to work it out. The bastard went mad. We nearly had a fight in the hall.”

  “Bloody hell.”

  “He threatened me, then he was all nicey-nice. God, I don’t know… no wonder you think I’ve got odd.”

  “No, I don’t,” Billy stressed. “It’s just, well, talk… you’ve got very quiet. Pretend I’m Kate.”

  Charlie shook his head and spluttered a laugh. “No, thanks.”

  “What I mean is, talking will help you to sort out the things in your head.”

  “All right, doctor. So,” he sat down on the bed, “you think I can’t handle all this?”

  “Of course I do, but talk to me like I’m your best friend, not just one of the boys.”

  “They were looking at me pretty strangely,” he admitted, beginning to feel embarrassed and a little scared. God Almighty, was he losing it?

  “That’s because we all heard you. Let your hair down a bit, have a drink with us, maybe pay Doris a visit?”

  Doris. He’d only seen her a couple of times since he’d come back. She’d been with a man, naturally, and had waved at him before dragging the poor sod off to sample her ample delights.

  “No. Not after Kate. But I’ll come to the Mess later and we’ll have a sing-song.” He gave Billy a determined nod.

  He managed to put the boys at ease as well as enjoying himself for the first time in… he couldn’t remember how long.

 

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