Into The Unknown

by Lorna Peel

  “Yes.” He handed it over. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so truthful about myself.”

  “Well, that’s good. I’ll send the letter and we’ll give her some time to read and digest it. I’m going to telephone her next week to see how she is and I’ll mention your letter.”

  Charlie waited a nerve-wracking week before Dr Eliot asked him to come to his office. The psychologist looked both encouraging and sympathetic.

  “Kate received your letter yesterday. She says thank you for being so truthful about yourself and what happened. But,” Dr Eliot clasped his hands on the desk in front of him, “she says she can’t see you again. She says she can’t trust herself or you now.”

  Charlie sat motionless. He should have expected it but there had always been hope. He nodded. “I understand.” That was it, then.

  The following Friday afternoon, he went on a walk around and around the lawns to strengthen his leg. He couldn’t bring himself to go into the maze anymore. He had just sat down on his usual bench with a cigarette when he heard voices, familiar voices.

  “Charlie?”

  He looked up. Bloody hell, it was himself as an eighteen-year-old and a much younger Bob. Clive and Toby, in their RAF uniforms, stopped in front of him and smiled.

  “How are you?” Clive asked. He was looking closely, even though Charlie saw that he tried not to, at the prosthetic eye.

  “Better for seeing you two.” He struggled to his feet, ignoring a painful twinge from his bad leg, and clasped the two of them to him. “God, I’ve missed the two of you.” He sniffed, he was crying, and he wiped the tears on his left cheek away. “Let’s have a look at the uniforms. Very swish. Sit down, unless you don’t want to crease them?”

  They laughed and sat down on either side of him.

  “We had a free afternoon, so we decided to surprise you.” Toby grinned.

  “Thanks.” He managed, just, to smile back. “You don’t know what this means to me.”

  The two moved uncomfortably but he pressed on. “I know I was ill but I was a bloody idiot, too, for refusing to see you.” He pointed to the false eye. “I can take it out and polish it, you know? Don’t worry, I won’t,” he added quickly, seeing an expression of horror cross Toby’s face. “I’m sorry. I can’t say it enough to you all.”

  “All?” echoed Clive. “You’ve seen Kate?”

  Charlie sighed. He couldn’t lie anymore. “Yes, she was here.”

  “And?”

  “I apologised to her…” He tailed off and gritted his teeth. You coward, he cursed himself.

  “She was so worried about you,” Toby said. “But you’re better now, yes?”

  “I don’t know.” He hesitated then ploughed on. “I don’t think Kate and I are going to see each other anymore.”

  Both boys stared at him in silence but Clive recovered first and laid a hand on his arm.

  “You didn’t send her away, did you?”

  “No.” Tears welled up. “I drove her away. I more or less raped her. In there.” He pointed to the maze in disgust and both boys immediately moved away from him.

  “Why?” Clive asked.

  “Because.” He closed his eyes. “Because I’m a fool.”

  “Where is she?”

  “At her Sector Station. I wrote to her to apologise and Dr Eliot rang her to make sure she was all right.”

  “To apologise?” Toby found his voice. “Christ, Charlie.”

  “Don’t say it, I know.”

  “Have you any change?” Toby asked Clive while searching his pockets. “I suppose you haven’t tried to telephone her yourself?” he snapped. “Charlie?”

  He shook his head and Toby gasped in disgust, snatched the coins Clive held out to him and ran over the lawn towards the house.

  Clive sat rigidly on the bench. “You’ve done some bloody stupid things in your time, Charlie, but this? It was Kate. Didn’t you realise or..?”

  “Or am I still mad?” He threw his cigarette away. “No, I’m not still mad. But I was then,” he added in a whisper.

  “I just…” Clive shook his head. “I just can’t believe it. I thought you loved her?”

  “I do. Maybe too much.”

  He saw Clive shrug, unable to understand, and they lapsed into a silence only broken when Toby returned a few minutes later.

  “Did you speak to her?” Charlie asked.

  “Yes.”

  “How is she?”

  “Fine.”

  “And?” He fought to control his temper. Christ, was he going to have to drag everything out of him?

  “She’s all right. Well, she says she is. I asked her did you rape her and she said no, that it just went far too far, but she won’t be coming to see you again, Charlie.”

  “I know,” he replied.

  “Christ, Charlie, you stupid bloody—”

  “Toby,” Clive warned and Toby turned his back on them with his hands on his hips. “Charlie?” Clive hesitantly touched his arm. “Can I come back and see you again? Do you know how much longer you’ll be here?”

  “Not much longer, I think.” He clutched his brother’s hands. “Come and see me, please? I’ll let you know when I’m back at Rose Cottage.” Clive nodded and Charlie looked up at Toby’s back. “Toby, look at me?”

  He turned and glared at him. “What?”

  “I’ve apologised to Kate, now I’ll apologise to you. I’m sorry.”

  Toby nodded. “The first opportunity I get, I’ll be going to see how she is – how she really is.”

  “Then you’ll tell me?” he asked and Toby stared back silently. “Please, Toby?”

  “We will,” Clive assured him.

  He waited a week for news. There was nothing. Another week. Nothing. On the Tuesday of the third week, Dr Eliot asked to see him.

  “Charlie, I’ve decided to discharge you, although I want you to come back for a chat every week or so for the next few months. We’ll let it go a bit longer after each visit and see how things go. All right?”

  “You’ll make sure I don’t do it again?”

  “You haven’t heard anything from Clive and Toby?”

  “No. Toby was supposed to be seeing Kate then telling me how she is.”

  “I think I can trust you to keep away from her, Charlie. She doesn’t want to see you – respect that – but I think I can trust you.” Dr Eliot smiled kindly.

  “Don’t worry,” Charlie replied. “I won’t go near her.”

  “Good. I’ll see you next week, then, Charlie.”

  “Thank you.” Charlie got up and shook the doctor’s hand. “Thanks for everything.”

  Charlie refused a lift back to Market Kirby and, as he stood at the bus stop, he could feel a small boy staring at him. The boy had been watching his slow progress down the street then had stared in unmistakable fascination at his eye. Charlie turned away, pulling his cap down lower over his face. He heaved himself and his suitcase onto the bus and sat down with a sigh. He’d better get used to people staring at him as if he were a freak show. He was.

  “Oh, no.” He groaned as he opened the garden gate at Rose Cottage. John was hurrying along the pavement towards him.

  “Charlie.” The vicar smiled and they shook hands. “I thought I saw you getting off the bus. Can I take your suitcase?”

  “No.” He held onto it. “Thanks, but I have to build up my strength again. Come in.”

  The cottage was warm, thanks to the summer sun streaming in through the windows. Charlie threw the suitcase onto the bed in their – no – his bedroom now, took off his cap and overcoat and joined John in the living room.

  “Glad to be home, I’ll bet?” John asked.

  “Yes,” he replied. “How are you and Lucy?”

  “Oh, same as always. How’s Kate?”

  Charlie froze. “I, er, we—” He hesitated. “We aren’t together anymore, actually, John.”

  The vicar’s eyes widened and for once he clearly didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry
to hear that,” he said. “These things happen, I suppose.”

  No, they don’t, Charlie thought. Not what I did to her, but he smiled weakly to placate John.

  He filled his days to the appointment with Dr Eliot by walking as much as he could and digging in the garden. The copper beech tree was still alive and well and he watered it every now and again to help it during the hot weather. One afternoon, he went to the river and spent hours just swimming up and down.

  His chat with Dr Eliot was pretty uneventful. The psychologist was pleased with his appearance and his determination to lose weight. They chatted about mundane subjects before Dr Eliot mentioned Kate.

  “I’ve heard nothing at all,” Charlie replied. “From any of them.”

  Dr Eliot frowned. “I thought Clive and Toby would have got in touch with you.”

  “It’s funny.” Charlie sighed. “A year ago I wanted this – to be told nothing. Now…”

  To his relief, a letter was on the mat the next morning from Clive and Toby. They had seen Kate, she really was fine, and that was it.

  Billy visited a few weeks later. Charlie was in the garden watering the tree again. It was clear from his friend’s face that he knew.

  “Kate wrote and told me. Charlie, it’s through sheer bloody willpower I’m here and I’m not about to bash you senseless.”

  “How is she?”

  “Fine.”

  Charlie sighed. Fine. That was all he was ever told. Bloody fine.

  “I had an afternoon free,” Billy continued. “So I went to see her, and we went to the NAAFI for a cup of coffee and a chat. She told me to send you her regards.”

  “Her regards?”

  “Well, what the hell else did you expect?” Billy snapped. “It’s a wonder she isn’t on her way to a lovely convalescent home every week to have chats with a psychologist.”

  “I know.”

  Billy rolled his eyes, kicked out at the watering can, and dented it. “Sorry.”

  “It’s all right. I miss her like hell, you know?”

  Billy nodded. “I can’t say if she misses you. I think she’s still shocked. Nobody at her Sector Station knows what happened. Not even her friend Jean. We went for a walk after the coffee and she cried.” A lump sprang into Charlie’s throat. “I think it did her good, though. What about you?” Billy asked suddenly. “How are you?”

  “I’m all right. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. I’m going to go back to the RAF. I’ll never fly again and it was tough coming to terms with that, considering it was the main reason I joined, but I don’t care now. I’ll take anything they throw at me.”

  “It could be anything, you know?”

  “I don’t care. I have to do something. Can you stay long?”

  “For a bit. I’m on my way home in a roundabout way.”

  “Good.” Charlie gave him a relieved smile. “Come inside, I put the kettle on before I came out here. It should be boiling.”

  Walking into the kitchen, Billy chuckled. “Very neat and tidy. You used to be such a messy sod.”

  “I used to be a lot of things.” Charlie put two mugs on the table and returned to the dresser for the tea caddy and teapot. “I’ve changed a lot, even though I say it myself.”

  Billy nodded sympathetically. “I think we all have. Any nice girls around here?” he asked and Charlie banged the teapot and caddy down on the table, glared at him and Billy quickly raised his hands in defence. “For me! A girl who doesn’t think the Yanks are a gift from God.”

  “I don’t know.” Charlie went to the hob for the kettle, warmed the teapot then added two spoonfuls of tea. “I haven’t exactly been looking. No girl would look at me now, anyway. Well, not unless it’s a look of horror. The looks I got from everyone here the first week I was back. It was awful. Mothers telling their children to stop staring at the ‘funny man’.” He sighed, filled the teapot with boiling water, and left it to brew.

  “Looks like I’ll have to fight my way through the Yanks, then. Oh.” Billy thumped a fist down on the table. “Your medal, can I see it?”

  Charlie went to his bedroom, retrieved the box from a drawer, and returned to the kitchen.

  Billy opened it and whistled. “Don’t take this the wrong way but, congratulations, Flight Lieutenant Charles Butler DFC.”

  “A medal for daydreaming and crashing into a wood.” Charlie took the box back, snapping it shut.

  “Christ, Charlie, and the rest. Six kills. You’ve been one of the most popular flight commanders the base has ever had.”

  “Thanks,” Charlie replied. He didn’t quite know how to take flattery anymore but knew Billy meant well. “It’s just that I’d give anything to have Kate back. To not have…” He tailed off and poured the tea. It was useless to say it now.

  Life took on a dull routine for the rest of the summer. Get up, have breakfast. Walk up to Feathertown every second day for milk and eggs, too, if needed. Walk home through the village, stopping only to buy bits and pieces of shopping and a newspaper. Potter about until lunch, then potter about again until dinner. Listen to the radiogram in the evenings and read the paper. God, how he hated it.

  His visits to Dr Eliot were becoming less frequent as time went on. At the end of September, he was going to Kent only every second month and Charlie was expecting to be told not to come back very soon. And, at last, his flabby stomach and double chin were more or less gone.

  All of it was shattered in late October. He had just washed up after his evening meal when he heard a fist hammering on the front door. Opening it, he saw Clive, who darted inside.

  “Hat, overcoat, keys.” He thrust them into Charlie’s hands. “Come on, into the car.”

  In a daze, Charlie followed him. Toby was at the wheel. Christ, he didn’t even know Toby could drive.

  “What the hell is it?” he demanded as the car sped down the village street.

  Clive and Toby exchanged glances and he began to feel very cold. Kate.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Kate stood outside the entrance to the doctor’s surgery, feeling lightheaded. No, you can’t faint here she told herself and glanced up and down the village street. Where could she go to sit down? She had to sit down. There were wooden benches on either side of the memorial to those who died in the Great War so she set off unsteadily along the street, sat down on one, and gazed up at the sky in despair.

  “You are pregnant, Miss Sheridan.” The doctor’s disapproving voice, emphasising the “Miss” and confirming her worst fears, echoed around her head and her face crumpled. What was she going to do? Fumbling in her tunic pocket for a handkerchief, she blew her nose. Pull yourself together and think. Think calmly.

  How long could she stay in the WAAF? It would all depend on when her pregnancy started to show and how long she could hide it for. She would have to hide it for as long as she could and save as much of her pay as possible. She would be an unmarried mother, she wouldn’t be able to work, and no-one would employ her anyway. Maybe she could take in washing or sewing – anything to earn some money to rent a room somewhere and provide for her baby.

  In the meantime, don’t tell anyone, not even Jean. Keep your head down, don’t attract any attention to yourself, and save all your pay.

  She looked at her watch and blew out her cheeks to calm herself. It was time to go back to the Sector Station.

  Hearing footsteps, Kate let the pages of the calendar fall into place as Jean closed the hut door. It was October 20th. There could be no more putting it off. It was time her friend knew, too.

  “Kate?” Jean ran to her and loosened her tie. “You’re as white as anything.” She sat Kate down on her bed. “Tell me what’s wrong? Stop saying it’s all right because it isn’t, is it?”

  Jean’s anxious face became blurred by tears and Kate shook her head. “I’m pregnant,” she whispered, and more tears began to fall through sheer relief that her friend knew at last. “Pregnant?” Jean’s eyes widened in shock. “How far gone are you?”

>   “Five months today.”

  “Five.” Jean counted back. “May. Kate, is it Charlie’s?”

  “Yes,” she sobbed. “There’s been no-one else.”

  “Oh, God, Kate.” Jean frowned helplessly. “Five months? You were mending your skirt a few weeks back…”

  “I was altering it.” She wiped her eyes. “I was showing but now I can’t hide it anymore. Look.”

  Standing up, she opened and pulled her skirt down, showing Jean her bulge.

  “Oh, Kate.” Jean stared as she did her skirt up and sat down. “Did you go to a doctor?”

  “Yes, and I’ve just told the MO.” More tears flowed. “I’m having to leave the WAAF.”

  “What will you do?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve tried to save as much of my pay as I could, but it’s not going to be enough.”

  She got up to go outside for some fresh air. Once on her feet, she felt dizzy. Oh, no, she was going to faint. She made a grab for the wall, but it was too late, she was falling…

  The next couple of hours passed in a haze. She heard Jean’s voice explaining what was wrong to someone – God, it sounded like the CO – and an ambulance was called. Was she going to hospital? She’d only fainted. Then she heard a stranger’s voice shouting to the driver.

  “She’s still bleeding. Drive faster.”

  Bleeding? Was she having a miscarriage? She felt wet. Instinctively, she put a hand between her legs, and it came back covered in blood.

  “Oh, God, Jean?” she whispered. “What’s happening to me?”

  “It’s all right.” Jean clasped her hand, despite the blood, and Kate sighed with relief. Thank God Jean was there. “We’re on our way to hospital. Don’t worry, you’re going to be fine.”

  “The baby?”

  “Shush now,” Jean soothed and Kate drifted again.

  Jean’s voice woke her. She wasn’t moving and must be out of the ambulance. Yes, she could see pale green hospital curtains drawn around her bed. The baby…

  “Jean?” Her voice was little more than a croak but the curtain was pulled aside and Jean, a doctor and a nurse came and stood beside her bed.