Authors: Ellie Dean
‘Oh, Ruby, he’s hurting, love.’
‘Yeah,’ she sniffed, ‘but so am I, and ’e don’t seem to care. I run out of that hospital crying like a baby, and then I ’ad to walk most of the way home ’cos I missed the blooming bus,’ she sobbed.
Peggy dug a handkerchief from her apron pocket and put her arm round the slender shoulders until the storm of tears began to ebb. Life was unfair, and now both these young people were hurting so badly that they were in danger of losing something very special. And yet Peggy felt helpless, for what words could she say to make things better between them? How to make them both see this terrible twist of fate didn’t have to be the end of such promise?
‘I dunno wot to do,’ said Ruby eventually. ‘Me mum says I should forget about ’im and get on with me life, ’cos it weren’t ever supposed to be – and that I went through enough with Ray, without saddling meself with a blind man.’
Peggy felt a sharp stab of annoyance. Ethel should mind her tongue – even if she did only have Ruby’s best interests at heart – for her words had been unnecessarily cruel and very unhelpful.
Ruby looked at Peggy, her eyes bright with fresh tears. ‘But I can’t leave him, Auntie Peg. He needs me now more than ever.’
‘Ruby, love,’ said Peggy hesitantly. ‘You have to think very carefully about this. Are you staying with him because you’d feel disloyal if you left? Or are you staying because you really love him and can see a future with him regardless of his injuries?’
Ruby’s expression softened. ‘It’s ’cos I loves him, Auntie Peg.’
‘Have you spoken to the doctor or one of the nurses that are looking after Mike?’
Ruby nodded as she mangled Peggy’s handkerchief. ‘Sister Bennett says it’s quite usual for blokes like Mike to be nasty to those they loves ’cos they don’t want to be a burden. She said I gotta ignore what ’e says, and just keep visiting.’
‘That sounds like good advice, Ruby.’ Peggy watched the girl dry her eyes and then sip her cooling tea. ‘Is there some reason you’re wary of taking it?’
‘Yeah,’ she admitted softly. ‘Wot if he
really
don’t want me no more? Or, wot if he does and ’e’s sent back to Canada? I can’t go with ’im, can I?’
This was the problem Peggy had foreseen long ago, but she said nothing as she lit a cigarette.
Ruby was making a heroic effort to remain calm, but her voice was unsteady as she continued. ‘When he first got injured, he were hoping that if his eye weren’t right, the army would give him an admin job over here. Now he won’t even talk about the possibility, ’cos he reckons he ain’t worth nothing and the army won’t want him no more.’
‘Oh, Ruby,’ sighed Peggy. ‘The poor boy has a great many changes to deal with, and I’m afraid you’re just going to have to be patient and supportive. From what I know about him, he’s always been fit and strong and used to being in charge of his destiny. He was a Mountie before the war, remember? And the loss of sight, even in one eye, will be devastating to him and his career.’
‘I know,’ sniffed Ruby as the tears began to roll once more down her cheeks. ‘But ’e keeps pushing me away, and I’m beginning to think he really don’t love me no more.’
This was going round in circles, and Peggy realised it was time for some straight talking. ‘Then sit down and talk to him, quietly and calmly, and ask him straight out how he feels. Tell him how hurt you are by his pushing you away, and make it clear to him that his injury makes absolutely no difference to how you feel.’
Peggy sighed and smoothed her hand over Ruby’s shining hair. ‘I’m certain from all you’ve said that you’ll both find a way to overcome this. But it won’t be easy, Ruby. A man’s pride is at stake, and he doesn’t want you to see him as anything less than perfect.’
Ruby shot her a watery smile. ‘Ain’t no one perfect in my book,’ she said. ‘Not even Mike. Men are right idiots, aren’t they?’
Peggy laughed. ‘They certainly can be, but we women are willing to gloss over that when we’re in love with them.’ She picked up the teapot. ‘Let’s have a fresh cuppa while you relax and think things through. Life is never black and white, Ruby, and you’re only just learning that falling in love can bring far more complications than we could ever dream about.’
She smiled down at her. ‘But if your heart is true, then you’ll find a way.’
KITTY’S THIGH WAS
still a bit sore from the penicillin injection Dr Thorne had given her to help fight any infection that might be lurking, but he’d been cheerful and optimistic, and she’d left the clinic feeling a little more hopeful.
Roger was his usual teasing self once he knew she was feeling easier about things, and he’d driven out of town and up and over the hills to a tiny village where a rough chalk track wound its way from the narrow lane to the brow of the hill.
‘There we are,’ he said as he parked to the side of the track. ‘How about that for a view?’
‘Quite magnificent.’ Kitty got out of the car and looked round. ‘This was an inspired idea, Roger,’ she sighed. ‘It’s as if you read my mind.’
‘I thought you might like to be out in the open after being cooped up between four walls,’ he said solemnly as he took off his uniform jacket and tie, and unfastened the top button of his shirt.
‘It’s exactly what I need,’ said Kitty, breathing in the soft, salty air.
Roger spread out a large tartan blanket across the grass. ‘Good. Now you sit down and I’ll unpack the car.’
She watched as he brought out the hamper and a bright yellow parasol, then fussed about her with numerous cushions and made sure the parasol was tilted just right so the sun didn’t glare in her eyes. She smiled with amusement as he continued to unload everything, for there were linen napkins, proper cutlery and even china plates, as well as a neat little case containing a spirit stove, kettle, silver teapot and milk jug.
‘Where on earth did you find that?’ she asked.
‘It belongs to Father, really,’ he confessed. ‘He uses it when he goes shooting or spends the day at the races, but he doesn’t mind me borrowing it. I did consider bringing the wind-up gramophone,’ he continued as he handed her a straw sunhat with ribbons fluttering from the crown. ‘But I thought that was rather over-egging the pudding.’
‘It would be rather,’ she replied lightly. ‘You should keep the gramophone for when you’re courting some wide-eyed beauty who is more susceptible than me to your undoubted charms,’ she teased.
He gave a dramatic sigh and tried to look as if he’d been wounded to the very core. ‘You mean you’re not susceptible to my charms?’
‘Don’t be daft,’ she teased. ‘I know you too well, Roger Makepeace, and I’m not about to fall for any of your old flannel. Anyway, I’m hardly the romantic heroine, am I? Not with this bally stump getting in the way.’
‘It’s a lovely stump,’ he said gallantly. ‘And you remind me of Cleopatra lying there amongst the cushions.’
‘Then let’s hope there are no asps about,’ she giggled. ‘I understand this is the ideal weather for adders.’
He smiled at her boyishly. ‘If I spot one, I’ll fight it off with my trusty knife and fork,’ he said, waving the cutlery menacingly towards the grass.
Kitty roared with laughter. ‘You are a tonic, Roger.’
‘Jolly good,’ he said bashfully as he went rather red and fumbled about in the hamper. ‘I hope you’re hungry, Kitty, because there are Scotch eggs, a cheese and onion flan, some salad, tomato sandwiches – with real butter on the bread – and a trifle.’
‘It all looks wonderful,’ she replied, her mouth watering. ‘You are clever, Roger. Do you always have such grand picnics?’
‘I just thought you deserved a treat,’ he replied airily. ‘Now, sit back and enjoy the view while I get the spirit stove going to make us some proper tea.’
Kitty found that it wasn’t very comfortable sitting on the ground, for her stump made her unbalanced. Not wanting to spoil things for Roger, who’d clearly planned this picnic with infinite care, she discreetly wriggled about, and with strategically placed cushions, finally found a way to really enjoy the experience.
She looked out over the great sweep of land that ended in the chalk cliffs to the east of Cliffehaven, and watched the gulls hovering over the dazzling water in the Channel. She could hear skylarks, and the soft breath of warm wind rustling the trees, and could smell baked earth and the honey-sweet perfume of the bright yellow gorse and fluffy white cow parsley. It was utterly beautiful, and she gave a deep sigh of contentment.
‘It’s a far cry from the vivid colours of the Argentine pampas, I know,’ said Roger as he knelt by the spirit stove and waited for the little kettle to boil. ‘But there’s nothing lovelier than the English countryside on a summer’s day.’
‘It’s perfect,’ she said as she watched seabirds glide against the blue sky. ‘I’ve been indoors far too much over the past months, and I was only thinking this morning how much I would love to come up here.’ She reached across and lightly touched his hand. ‘Thanks, Roger. You couldn’t have given me a better treat.’
He cleared his throat and busied himself with the small silver teapot. ‘No need for thanks, old thing,’ he said gruffly. ‘Glad to do it.’
Kitty smiled and returned to the panorama spread before her. Spoiled only by several gun emplacements, the grassy hills and valleys dipped and rolled high above the sea. To the west she could see the sun glinting on the many windows in Cliffehaven town; to the north was the Cliffe estate and a scattering of farmhouses and thatched cottages between wide fields where the land army girls toiled to bring in the harvest. To the east, and far in the distance, she could see the jagged line of chalk cliffs which defined this whole coastline.
‘You wouldn’t think there was a war on, would you?’ she said as he handed her a cup of tea. ‘It’s so peaceful.’
‘We’re lucky to have days like this,’ he said, stretching out his long legs and leaning back on his elbows. ‘It seems a lifetime ago since I last had a picnic with a pretty girl in the sunshine.’
‘Flattery will get you nowhere,’ she teased. ‘Now pass me a sandwich. I’m starving.’ She munched happily on the lovely buttery tomato sandwich and then reached for another. ‘You’d better have something before I eat all of these,’ she warned. ‘You know me and my appetite.’
‘I do indeed,’ he replied with a grin. ‘That’s why I made sure there was plenty for both of us. I’ve never known someone so slight put food away like you do.’
She giggled and finished the second sandwich, then reached for a Scotch egg, which she suspected had spam round a bit of soggy powdered egg, which was usually how Peggy did them. But biting into the breadcrumb coating, she tasted real sausage meat and real hard-boiled egg. ‘Oh, my goodness,’ she murmured. ‘What a treat. You boys are certainly well fed if this is an example of RAF food.’
He patted his stomach and shot her a rueful smile. ‘Rather too good at times,’ he admitted as he took another sandwich. ‘But the amount of energy we use on an op is quite amazing, considering we’re sitting in a cockpit all the time. Everyone’s famished when they get back, but I suppose it’s because of all that adrenaline sloshing about.’
Kitty finished the Scotch egg, and then cut a thin slice of the cheese and onion tart, helped herself to salad and munched thoughtfully as she adjusted the brim of her sunhat and looked out over the sea. ‘You must all be exhausted,’ she said. ‘It’s bad enough flying with the ATA virtually non-stop, but at least we’re unlikely to get shot at – unless it’s by a trigger-happy ack-ack gunner who’s supposed to be on our side.’
‘I can’t deny that we’re all stretched to the limit,’ he said solemnly as he finished his slice of cheese and onion tart. ‘But we sleep when we can, play hard and get on with it.’ He looked across at her and winked. ‘We’re the boys in blue – Churchill’s few – and we’ll keep going until this war’s over.’
‘What about Freddy? Will he go back to flying, do you think?’
He nodded as he reached for a Scotch egg. ‘Inevitable, old thing. Without flying, he feels half a man. It’s the same for us all.’ He looked at her. ‘Surely you can understand that, Kitty?’
‘Oh, yes,’ she said with a sigh as she finished her salad. ‘I can’t wait to get back into the air.’
‘So you can’t really blame Freddy for wanting the same.’ He finished the Scotch egg in three bites and then grinned. ‘Come on, it’s time for trifle. We’re getting far too serious for such a lovely afternoon.’
He spooned out the trifle into china bowls, hunted out spoons, and they tucked in. ‘Jolly good show,’ he murmured appreciatively. ‘This is absolutely spiffing, with real cream and proper custard. I’ll have to find a way to show my appreciation to the cook.’
Kitty was too busy scraping the last of the delicious trifle from the bottom of her bowl to answer him. Licking the spoon clean, she leaned back into the cushions, tipped her sunhat over her eyes and gave a little sigh of contentment. ‘That was marvellous, but now I’m so full, all I want to do is go to sleep.’
‘Go ahead, old thing. I’ll keep watch for adders, never fear.’
She watched him through half-closed lids as he packed away the remains of the food and placed the hamper in the shade of the umbrella, which he’d managed to stick firmly into the rock-hard ground.
He was the nicest, kindest man, she thought as she regarded him sleepily. And, she realised with a jolt of surprise, really rather handsome, with his long-lashed brown eyes, firm chin and flamboyant moustache. His lips were well shaped too, and she wondered suddenly what it would be like if he kissed her.
Horrified she should think such a thing, she flung her arm over her face to hide the deep blush that burned from her throat up. The sun and rich food had to be playing tricks on her mind. Really, she thought crossly, what a thing to think of a friend. He’d be as mortified as she was if he’d had even a hint of what had just passed through her sun-addled mind.
She couldn’t sleep now, so she sat up and prodded the cushions about to give her something to do.
‘Cigarette?’ he asked as he held out the silver case.
She didn’t dare look him in the eye for fear he might see something of her rampant thoughts. ‘Thanks,’ she replied. ‘Is there any more of that tea?’