Into The Unknown

by Lorna Peel

  Putting both arms around her, he held her as close to him as Bump would allow, and they moved slowly around the floor. All too soon, the band halted for the countdown to the New Year and Charlie found himself and Kate next to John and Lucy and Billy and Jean.

  “Happy New Year,” John roared and began kissing every woman who would let him, taking a few by surprise, and shook every male hand. “1944. Peace this year, I hope.” He began singing Auld Lang Syne, quickly followed by the band.

  “I hope so, too.” Kate kissed Charlie’s lips. “Happy New Year. Oh, I’m nervous now. I felt safe saying the baby wasn’t due until next year. But.” She gripped his hands. “Now it is next year and it’s due next month.”

  “I’ll be there for you to swear at,” he assured her and was relieved when she laughed and hugged him.

  The month and a half passed quickly. They went on a shopping expedition to London to spend Mr Sheridan’s money, buying a cot, a pram and a camera.

  Kate was nervous, and he hated having to leave her every morning. Luckily, Lucy promised she would keep an eye on her. On the afternoon of the fourteenth of February, he was sitting in the Officers’ Mess with a cup of tea, watching Billy struggling with a crossword when the door opened and Jim hurried across the room to them.

  “Charlie, Kate’s just telephoned. Contractions are ten minutes apart and closing in fast. She doesn’t think the baby is going to be long. Lucy is driving her to the hospital. Kate’s got everything except you. Off you go and good luck.”

  Charlie jumped to his feet, clutching his head in panic.

  “Charlie?” Billy shook him. “Keys, car, drive, hospital. Come on.”

  They ran to his office, Charlie grabbing his cap, overcoat and keys before running outside to his car.

  “Ring when it’s arrived,” Billy yelled after him as he roared away.

  At the hospital, Charlie stared at the signs. Where the hell was the maternity ward? Third floor, bloody typical. Hobbling up the nearest stairs, he rushed along endless corridors until he saw Lucy getting to her feet.

  “Charlie, everything’s fine. Kate’s just been taken into the delivery room, the baby doesn’t seem to want to wait.”

  “Right.” He set off again, hearing Lucy running after him.

  “Charlie, wait.”

  “What?” he asked angrily, stopping and turning back to face her.

  “You can’t go in there.”

  “Why not?”

  That stumped her for a moment. “Because… fathers, well, they don’t…”

  “Well, this father does. I told Kate I’d be with her.”

  Lucy grimaced as a nurse approached them. “See what this nurse says.”

  “Are you Charlie Butler?” the nurse asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Come with me.” She brought him into a small room which stank of disinfectant. Take your overcoat and cap off and put these on.” She handed him a gown and a contraption for his head. He struggled with them before following the nurse into the delivery room.

  “Charlie?” Kate called. “The head’s coming.”

  “Already?”

  The midwife looked up briefly from between Kate’s legs. “This little person won’t wait. You got here just in time.” She bent down again. “Now, come on Kate. Encourage her,” she commanded Charlie.

  “Here, take my hand,” he told her and Kate gripped it hard, her face contorting.

  “Push now,” the midwife called. “Come on, Kate, push. I can see the head.”

  Kate screamed and Charlie winced as her nails dug into his palm. Christ. In all the sneaked reads he’d had of his father’s medical textbooks, he’d never expected childbirth to be anything like this.

  “Good, good,” he cried, wondering if he was saying the right thing.

  “Excellent, Kate, the head is out.” The midwife smiled at her. “One more good push.”

  “Come on, Kate,” Charlie cried, never having felt so inadequate before.

  “Nearly done,” she panted and he nodded, hoping he wasn’t going to faint.

  Kate screamed and pushed and there was fevered activity, then a squeal.

  Charlie watched, caressing Kate’s hand, his heart in his mouth.

  “A girl, Kate and Charlie, and she’s perfect.”

  “A girl.” He bent down and kissed Kate’s forehead. “Oh, look!”

  The nurse wrapped the baby up in a towel and handed her to Kate. Charlie leant over; the baby was waving her arms and legs about in the air.

  “Still kicking.” Kate smiled. “Isn’t she beautiful?”

  Yes,” he croaked, fumbling for a handkerchief. Drying his eye, he kissed Kate again, then the baby.

  “Take your daughter for a few minutes,” the nurse told him. “Kate isn’t quite finished yet.”

  Taking the surprisingly heavy bundle from Kate, he gazed down into the tiny red face. His daughter. He carefully tucked the towel around her and bent to kiss her forehead again.

  Would he be as good a father as his own had been to his two sons? Yes, he would. He would be an even better father. He would cherish every moment he had with his precious daughter.

  Kate crying out again jolted him out of his thoughts.

  “The placenta,” the nurse explained. “All over now.”

  “Only four hours from start to finish,” the midwife commented. “I wish more were like you, Kate.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Yes, thank you,” Charlie added.

  “Butler, isn’t it?” the midwife asked. “Anything to Malcolm?”

  “He was my father.”

  “Tragic. I’m sorry.” She patted Charlie’s arm. “A new life, though. Congratulations.”

  “Thank you.” He turned back to Kate, who was being cleaned by the nurse.

  “Now it’s Baby’s turn.” The nurse took the baby from him, wiped her down, patted her dry and weighed her. “Seven pounds ten ounces. A big girl.”

  “Don’t I know it.” Kate rolled her eyes comically. “Charlie? Will you tell Lucy and thank her for bringing me?”

  “Yes.” He wandered out into the corridor in a daze, finding Lucy at the public telephone. “It’s a girl.”

  “Oh, Charlie, congratulations. How’s Kate?”

  “Fine. Tired. Thanks for bringing her here.”

  “Oh, not at all.” Lucy smiled.

  “And I’m sorry I was rude earlier.”

  “Nonsense. Look, I’ll go now. Tell Kate I’ll come to see her and the baby tomorrow.”

  Walking back to the delivery room, he met the nurse at the door.

  “Why don’t you go and get a bite to eat?” she suggested. “We’ll clean Kate and the baby up properly and get the baby to drink. Come back to the ward, there.” She pointed along the corridor.

  “Thank you,” he said and turned away.

  “Charlie?” the nurse called after him. “The gown and cap..?” He looked down at himself. Idiot. “Leave them in the room across the way. There’s a good café just across the road.”

  “Thanks.” He went into the room, swapping the gown and cap for his overcoat and cap, then went to the telephone. He rang Toby and Clive’s bases first and left messages for them before ringing his Adjutant. “It’s a girl, Jim.”

  “Oh, God, I hope the poor little thing doesn’t look like you.”

  “Sod off, she’s beautiful,” he retorted with a laugh and was frowned at by a passing ward sister.

  “Well done, Charlie, I’ll tell everyone.”

  Returning an hour later, he found Kate in the ward, the curtains pulled around the bed. She was bottle-feeding the baby but looked up at him and smiled.

  “Come and see your daughter now she’s properly cleaned up.”

  He sat down on the edge of the bed watching his dark-haired daughter suck strongly. “She’s going to look like you,” he said, leaning over and kissing her.

  “She’s got your appetite. Oh, finished already.” Kate put the bottle down and held the baby a
gainst her shoulder, rubbing the baby’s back until she burped loudly. “Yes, you are like Daddy.”

  “Thank you,” he said dryly.

  “Do you want to hold her again?”

  He nodded and the baby was placed in his arms. “She’s so perfect.” A tiny hand clutched at his forefinger. “Born on Valentine’s Day, too.”

  “Don’t you dare get any ideas about calling her Valentina.”

  “Grace,” he said suddenly. “Grace Katherine.”

  Kate smiled. “That’s lovely. Grace Katherine, it is.”

  “Hello, Grace,” he whispered, kissing her forehead. “You must be exhausted, Kate.” He put Grace in the cradle beside the bed and covered her. “I’ll leave you both to sleep. I’ll come straight from the base tomorrow. I love you,” he said softly and kissed her lips.

  “I love you, Charlie.”

  “See you both tomorrow. Try not to snore and keep all the other new mothers awake.”

  She laughed in mock-outrage and he left her.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Kate spent most of her first full day of motherhood talking to the other mothers on the ward, showing off Grace, and admiring their babies.

  She had telephoned Ireland early that morning, her mother answering and bursting into tears. Her father hadn’t gone to work yet and cried, too. Her grandmother took the telephone, but she ended up in tears as well. Kate had been forced to tell them she was going to hang up if they didn’t stop crying – the call was costing her a fortune. They did, asking for photographs, her father adding that Grace was a beautiful name. Kate smiled to herself, not telling him Charlie had chosen it.

  Charlie arrived at half past six with a huge bunch of flowers. “How are the two ladies in my life?”

  “We’re fine. The flowers are lovely, thank you.”

  “Billy sends his best and says you’ve got two children to look after now.”

  She laughed. “I’m allowed to go home tomorrow.”

  “You are? I’ll try to be here at six, then. You’re coming home,” he told Grace, picking her up and kissing her.

  When they got back to Rose Cottage, Kate went straight to Clive and Toby’s bedroom, now a nursery of sorts. Placing Grace in the cot, she smiled.

  “Perfect.” Charlie stood behind her and kissed the side of her neck. “Are you hungry?”

  “No, but a cup of tea would be nice.”

  “Coming right up.”

  She switched the light off and, leaving the door ajar, she followed Charlie into the kitchen. “I’m glad it’s all over.”

  “So am I. I’m going to hate leaving you both tomorrow.”

  “I’ll be fine. Lucy will come over and you’ll be home at half-six. Don’t worry, I’ll leave a dirty nappy for you to change.”

  He gave her a grin. “Good. I love you, Kate Sheridan,” he whispered. “And our daughter.”

  They decided to leave the christening until May and later regretted it. On 12 March 1944, Britain banned all travel to and from Ireland in an effort to protect Allied information from leaking to the Germans. Kate’s parents and grandmother wouldn’t be able to come. Kate was bitterly disappointed but luckily, Toby, Clive, Billy and Jean were given passes for the day. Charlie, to Kate’s relief, was granted forty-eight hours leave.

  A large group including Mr and Mrs Rowlands, Mr Gibson and even Dr Eliot gathered in Market Kirby Parish Church for the christening. Lots of photographs were taken, most of which would be sent to Ireland, and when Billy, Jean, Toby and Clive had to leave, Kate waved them off before flopping down at the kitchen table. Charlie kissed her, picked her up and carried her to bed.

  On the afternoon of the fifth of June, the telephone rang as Kate was on her way to the kitchen to start preparing dinner.

  “Kate, it’s Charlie. Have you started dinner yet?”

  “No.” She laughed. He was always thinking of his stomach.

  “Good, it’s just that…” He sounded hesitant and she frowned. “I won’t be home tonight. Something’s come up.”

  “Oh.” She knew better than to ask him what. “I’ll see you tomorrow evening, then.”

  “Yes. I’m sorry, Kate. I love you. Give Grace a kiss for me?”

  “I will. I love you.”

  The news on the radiogram the next morning had her rooted to the spot, Grace in her arms.

  “Under the command of General Eisenhower, Allied naval forces, supported by strong air forces began landing Allied armies this morning on the northern coast of France…”

  Kate had to sit down. Strong air forces. That meant Toby and Clive would be over there. Please let them be all right, she begged, then jumped hearing a hammering on the front door.

  “Kate?” She heard Lucy’s voice and opened it. “Have you heard the news?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, Kate, everyone’s coming to the church and John’s gone AWOL. Could you go over there and tell them that I’ve gone to find him?”

  “Yes, of course, but why?”

  “They want a service. Thanksgiving, and to wish the forces luck. Thanks, Kate.”

  She wrapped Grace up in a shawl – it was a dull overcast day – and left the house. Lucy was right; it seemed as if everyone in the village was en route to the church. Holding Grace against her shoulder, she pushed through them and walked nervously up the aisle and halted at the lectern.

  “I’m sorry that John’s not here,” she announced. “But if you could all be patient, Lucy’s gone to find him. They’ll be here as quickly as they can.”

  “Perhaps a hymn?” the organist suggested. “Onward Christian Soldiers?”

  Kate nodded. It was as good as any, she supposed. She went into the front pew and picked up a hymn book.

  They were finishing the second verse when John ran up the aisle, smiled his thanks to her, and Lucy joined her a moment later.

  “He was up at Mrs Rowlands’ buying eggs,” she whispered.

  The service was short but heartfelt and when everyone had filed out of the church, John sank down on the cushions surrounding the communion rail.

  “Thanks, Kate. I heard up at the Rowlands’ but I didn’t expect this. Have you heard from Charlie?”

  “He rang yesterday and said he wouldn’t be home, that something had come up.” She laughed then frowned. “I think Toby and Clive are over there.”

  “The air cover.” John nodded. “Oh, I hope this can be the breakthrough.”

  Charlie arrived home at seven o’clock that evening with a newspaper. He looked exhausted.

  “I’m sorry,” he said immediately.

  “Don’t be silly. I was in the WAAF long enough to know all about secrecy.”

  “Well, I can tell you it’s going well so far. Bloody hell.” He sat down at the kitchen table, yawning. “Thousands of ships, God knows how many smaller boats, thousands upon thousands of planes. The mind boggles.”

  “Do you think Toby and Clive..?” she asked, tailing off and Charlie ran a hand over his jaw.

  “Yes, I’d say so. Try not to worry.”

  Toby and Clive rang a few days later “for a chat,” but it was mostly to reassure Kate and Charlie they were safe. Kate eagerly followed the news of the forces’ advance into France, the liberation of Paris, the push into Belgium, and the airborne landings into The Netherlands over the summer and autumn. Was it too much to hope this marked the beginning of the end?

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Charlie smiled as he shrugged off his overcoat and hung it up beside his cap. Kate and Grace were on the living room floor. Grace was standing up, holding on to the sofa, and she was delighted with herself at this feat. It was the fourteenth of February 1945. His daughter was a year old, and he couldn’t quite believe it.

  Kate winked at him as he came into the room, crawled across the floor to Grace, and pointed up at him.

  “Daddy. Daddy’s home for the birthday girl.”

  “Da,” was the delighted squeal and she let go of the sofa, but promptly fell back onto
her behind.

  “Nearly.” Bending down, he picked her up and gave her a noisy kiss. “Whose birthday is it, I wonder? Is it Grace’s birthday?” he asked and grinned as Kate reached behind the sofa. “I think it is. Oh, look at the huge present Mummy has for you.”

  “Oh.” Grace’s eyes bulged and sitting her down on the floor, he and Kate watched as Grace ripped the paper away to reveal the teddy bear.

  “Look at that.” Kate smiled as Grace hugged the bear to her. “Good choice,” she added.

  “You’ll never guess what I have with me,” he said, going back out to the hall. “It’s from Billy and all the lads,” he explained, returning with an enormous doll with blonde hair. “I drove home with it sat on the front seat and we got quite a few funny looks.”

  “Billy bought it?” Kate laughed. “I’m sorry, but I just can’t picture him buying a doll. But it’s very good of him – all of them. Will you thank them for me?”

  “I will.” He sat the doll next to Grace who stared at it in awe and he grabbed the camera, taking a picture to capture the moment. “Perfect.”

  “That came today.” Kate gestured to a parcel on top of the radiogram. “It’s a lovely dress from Jean – more about her later – and five pounds for clothes from Daddy, Mummy and Granny Norah – and ten shillings from Toby and Clive.”

  “They all love this little lady.” Charlie sat on the sofa, lifted Grace onto his knee and kissed her cheek.

  “Oh, and Grace was given this lovely little hat and mittens set from Lucy and John as well.”

  He smiled at the size of the tiny pink mittens, took them from Kate and held them up for Grace to see. “What’s the news about Jean? Has she a new boyfriend?” he asked and Kate roared with laughter.

  “Yes, and his name is Billy,” she said and his jaw dropped.

  “What? Jean and Billy are going out together?”

  She nodded. “I bet Billy never said a word.”

  “No, he didn’t.”

  “They’ve been seeing each other on and off since the dance last Christmas, but more seriously since Grace’s christening. I suppose it was hard, having to see whether their leaves overlapped, that sort of thing.”