Deeply moved by the woman’s understanding, Kate bent and kissed the wrinkled cheek. ‘Oh, you’re so good to me!’
The old lady flapped her hand and shooed Kate back to her sewing, but the pink tinge on her face told Kate she was touched by the younger woman’s display of affection.
She was standing, huddled into her thick coat, on the draughty station at Grantham staring up the track – just waiting.
‘Wouldn’t you be better in the waiting room, Miss?’ a porter – only a young boy – asked.
‘What? Oh, no – no thanks. His . . . The train should be here in a minute. I don’t want to miss it.’
The young boy nodded knowingly. ‘Your feller coming home on leave, is he, Miss?’
She nodded. She didn’t want to go into explanations.
‘We get a lot of reunions and partin’s on this station. Breaks ya heart sometimes, miss. Specially when they’re leavin’. Might never come back again, see.’
Kate swallowed the lump in her throat as she remembered the last time she had seen Danny; she had not thought then that it might be the last time she would see him. Yet when she had left Philip on this very platform only a few weeks ago, she had been only too aware that they could be parting for ever. She should have trusted him, she castigated herself, she should have had more faith in his love for her.
‘When’s the next train due in from the north?’ she asked.
The boy shrugged his shoulders. ‘Difficult to say. There should be one in about an hour. Why don’t you wait in the waiting room, Miss. It’d be warmer in there.’
‘I’m fine – really. To tell you the truth, I can’t settle to sit down.’
A train came drew in from the south and passengers spilled on to the opposite platform. Kate hardly glanced across the tracks, her gaze intent on the empty track curving northwards out of the station. Behind her there came the clatter of footsteps as passengers from the train made their way over the tracks and on to the platform where she was waiting and towards the main exit. There was laughter and chatter as people greeted each other. Then, with a great deal of hissing and puthering smoke, the train pulled out of the station again to continue its journey. The noises faded and there was silence once more.
She heard her name spoken softly. ‘Kate?’ and again, ‘Katie.’
For a fleeting moment, she felt devastated; that was not Philip’s voice. He had not come.
But in the next instant her heart soared. She knew that voice – oh, how well she knew that voice! Hardly daring to believe it, she turned around slowly to stare at the man limping towards her, muffled in an RAF greatcoat; a short, stocky man, his black hair ruffled by the breeze . . .
As tears filled her eyes, his image blurred and wavered like a mirage so that for a moment she didn’t know if what she was seeing was real. She reached out and felt him grasp her hands in his and then – she knew he was real.
‘Danny!’ she gasped, and the tears spilled down her cheeks. ‘Oh, thank God you’re safe!’
Their questions were tumbling over each other until he said, ‘Come on, let’s find somewhere warm and a cup o’ tea.’
Once in the tea-room, sitting opposite each other over the small table, cocooned from the other travellers in their own little space, they began to talk.
‘Are you really all right? Why are you limping? What happened?’ her questions came again.
Danny winked at her and grinned widely. ‘I’m fine, honest. Oh, me leg’s bad though, but that’s all. That’s why I’ve been repatriated.’
‘Repatriated? Were – were you captured then?’
‘We’d reached the target, dropped our bombs and were banking away when we were hit. The pilot nursed the kite for several miles but I think we all knew we couldn’t make it back home. Anyway, he was doin’ his best to get as near to the coast as he could when one of the engines caught fire. He kept flying to give us all time to bale out, but I couldn’t get to me ’chute . . .’
Kate felt herself going hot at the thought; she well knew that the rear-gunner could not wear his parachute in the confines of his turret.
‘Well, there I was swivelling the turret so I could get out and take me chances by jumping just before the ‘plane crashed. And do you know what happened? The whole rear turret fell off! And guess what?’
Wordlessly, Kate shook her head.
‘It landed in a tree! I smashed me leg up badly, and because I tried to evade capture for two days, I didn’t get proper medical attention. It’ll never be right again.’
‘But you’re alive,’ Kate said.
Danny pulled a face. ‘If that tree hadn’t been there, I wouldn’t be.’
‘Then thank goodness it was.’
They sat in silence for a moment, then she asked, ‘How come they’ve let you go?’
‘The leg won’t mend properly. They know I’ll be no good for any more fighting so . . . here I am. Mind you, I made ’em think me leg was a lot worse than it is. Reckon I deserve a medal for me acting!’
‘Oh Danny.’ She laughed and then wanted to know, ‘How did you get back?’
‘Through Sweden.’
There was another pause while they just sat looking at each other across the table, drinking in the sight of each other.
Then he asked gently. ‘How’ve you been, Kate? Why aren’t you in uniform? Aren’t you in the WAAFs any more?’
She circled the cup with her hands and glanced down at it. She shook her head. ‘No. I – had to leave.’
‘
Had
to leave? Why?’
‘I – got pregnant.’
‘Pregnant!’ he burst out, so loudly that one or two people nearby looked across. Some smiled, thinking that a young husband was hearing the joyous news for the first time; others curious in case there was a shotgun wedding about to be arranged.
‘Sssh,’ she hissed.
‘Shush be damned! Who is it? I’ll bloody kill him!’
‘Danny – don’t. It’s not like that. Just calm down – and listen.’
‘Well,’ he said, but his tone was not encouraging, ‘I’m listening.’
‘I’ve grown up a lot since – well – since I last saw you . . .’
His mouth was tight as if he would like to refute that particular statement, but he held back any retort and let her continue. ‘There was someone on our station – don’t ask me who ’cos I’m not going to tell you. We had an affair. I loved him, Danny. Not in the same way I once loved you, but . . .’
She saw his eyes soften as if the memory of their young, innocent love still hurt him too.
‘ . . . but I did love him – I still do.’
‘Why don’t you get married then?’
‘He – he’d already gone when I found I was pregnant.’
‘Gone? Do you mean – he was killed?’ Danny asked gently now and reached across the table to take her hand.
Kate shook her head. ‘No – no, he’s already married.’
‘Oh, Kate.’ There was reproach and yet sympathy too in his tone.
Her head jerked up. ‘I know you must think badly of me. But I’m not sorry. I have a beautiful baby girl whom I love dearly and things – well – they’re working out.’
‘But you’re not living at home, are you?’
‘No – and that reminds me; was it you sent that telegram?’
“Course it was. Who did you think it was from?’
She smiled. ‘I – I thought it was from – Ella’s father. You didn’t put a name on it.’
Now he looked suddenly boyishly self-conscious. ‘I thought you’d know who it was from. ’Course I didn’t know about the other bloke in your life, now did I?’ He was teasing her now and the brief anger had gone. ‘I sent one to – to Rosie too, so they’ll know I’m on me way home.’ His embarrassment deepened. ‘But I wanted to see you first. After all, Rosie’s got me for the rest of me life . . .’ His voice was a hoarse whisper and Kate knew then that deep down, he still felt about her as he always had, but knew also that life had to go on. They could not cling morbidly to the past and their smashed childhood dreams. He squeezed her hand tightly and she returned the gesture. They sat holding hands across the table.
‘So – how did you find out where I was?’ she prompted.
‘Mavis. As soon as I landed in England, I rang Suddaby. Some stuck-up woman on the switchboard said you weren’t there anymore, but that’s all she would say. So I rang back again a bit later and got hold of Mavis. She told me you were staying with the Godfreys.’ He grinned. ‘But that’s all
she
would tell me. You’ve got some very loyal friends.’
‘Good old Mavis,’ Kate murmured and inside she was bubbling with laughter to think just how confused Mavis would be feeling now.
‘Why aren’t you at home, then?’
‘Me mam won’t have anything to do with me now – because of the baby.’
‘Huh!’ Danny grunted expressively. ‘I might have known.’
Kate sighed. ‘Oh, it’s not that simple. Me grandad explained a lot of things to me. I’ll tell you all about it sometime. Not now, but sometime.’
‘But you’re all right with the Godfreys? You’re happy there?’ She nodded, but he was not convinced. ‘You sure? I can’t imagine you living in a city for ever.’
‘Oh, I’m getting more used to it. I take the baby out in the pram to the Arboretum and up the hill to the cathedral.’ She smiled. ‘I love that cathedral – I really do. And sometimes we get right out of the city into the countryside. Besides, I’m so lucky to be able to work from Mrs Godfrey’s front room. What I’d have done without her and Peg, I don’t know.’
He nodded and was thoughtful for a moment. Then he looked up. ‘What do you call her?’
‘Who?’
‘Ya baby?’
‘Oh,’ Now it was Kate’s turn to be embarrassed. ‘I hope you don’t mind – I called her Danielle.’
He stared at her for a moment and then threw back his head and laughed. ‘You little devil! That’ll set the tongues wagging again.’
‘You’re not angry, are you?’
‘No, ’course I’m not. I’m tickled pink. I’ll come over and see her as soon as I can . . .’ He seemed reluctant to speak of his home, of Rosie and their child. But then she realized, he would think they were still enemies.
People were beginning to leave the tea-room and Danny glanced up at the clock. ‘Me train’ll be leaving in a minute. Come to the platform with me, will ya? How are you getting back to Lincoln?’
‘I can get a train in about half an hour, I think.’
On the platform, he kissed her cheek. ‘Thanks for coming – even if you did think it was some other feller!’
‘I’m so very thankful it was you.’ If fate could only allow one of the men in her life to come back, she thought, then it had to be Danny. She touched his face gently with her fingertips. ‘Go home, Danny. Go home to Rosie – and your son.’
The astonished look on his face was almost comical. She nodded in answer to his unspoken question. ‘When you were missing – we helped each other, supported each other. I was there when Robbie was born. Rosie and I, we – got close again.’
He put his arms around her, pulling her close and resting his cheek against her hair. ‘Thank you,’ he said simply.
They stood, just holding each other, then he asked softly, ‘What’s he like, this son of mine?’
‘He’s got brown eyes and black hair, just like his father.’ Her voice broke a little as she added, ‘He’ll break a few hearts too . . .’
His arms tightened about her momentarily and then a whistle sounded shrilly, reverberating down the platform. There was a sudden flurry of activity all around them. Last-minute travellers dashed on to the platform and jumped aboard. Lovers tore themselves apart, reaching out with extended fingers, touching until the very last moment.
Reluctantly, Danny drew back and held her from him at arm’s length. For a long moment he looked deep into her eyes. ‘Take care of yourself, Katie Hilton. And your little lass. If you ever – ever need me, you know where I am.’
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. His words from their childhood echoed down the years: ‘I’ll always care for you, Katie Hilton, dun’t ever forget that’.
His arms came fiercely around her once more and for a timeless moment, she clung to him. Then he turned away and climbed aboard the train, pulling the door to behind him with a thud. He pushed down the window and leaned out. As the train pulled away, he was still waving.
‘God bless and keep you,’ she whispered, as his face became smaller and smaller until she could no longer see it through the blur of her tears. She watched until the train was out of sight and then turned and walked across the empty platform, her footsteps echoing eerily in the stillness.
Hunching her shoulders and hugging her coat around her, she plunged her hands deep into her pockets and, once more, she felt the wrinkled surface of the whelk shell.
And remembering, she smiled.
On 19 September, 1964, the marriage between Robert
Eland and Danielle Hilton took place in the local church,
the bride walking proudly down the aisle on the arm of her
father. As the bridal party came out of the church into the
blustery sunlight, the two grandmothers, Esther and Beth,
walked side by side, their arms linked, beaming proudly.
The bride paused as she walked down the path and, lifting
her long white gown, she moved amongst the gravestones
to lay her bouquet on the grave of her mother, Kate. Then
she stooped and from the bouquet she plucked a single red
rose and laid it on the grave of Matthew Hilton, the grandfather
both she and her new husband shared.
Mr Arthur Marshall, still the owner of the Grange and
all the surrounding farmland, save that belonging to Esther
Godfrey and Brumbys’ Farm, was delighted to sell the
crumbling, derelict house that had once been his family’s
home to the young Mr and Mrs Eland, and though he still
retained the ownership of the land surrounding it, he
granted them the tenancy to farm the land too.
So Rob and Ella painted and decorated and rebuilt their
new home and moved into the Grange where Rob had
always vowed he would one day live.
Two years later, Ella was able to say, ‘And now we’re a
family,’ as she laid Rob’s son in his arms, the two old
ladies hovering impatiently in the background for a sight
of their first great-grandchild.
Two more boys were born to Ella and Rob and then a
little girl with bright red curls and a smile like the sun
appearing after storm clouds; a little girl they named Esther
Elizabeth.