Authors: Lily Baxter
‘Hell and damnation. Look where you’re going.’
‘I’m sorry.’ Brushing the hair back from her face, Miranda squinted up at the tall figure of a man silhouetted against the sunshine.
Chapter Four
MIRANDA SCRAMBLED TO
her feet and found herself looking into the irate face of Raif Carstairs. ‘Oh, it’s you.’
He stared at her for a second and his angry expression melted into a grin. ‘I thought I’d deposited you and your friend safely on the other side of town. You are a traffic hazard, Miss Beddoes.’
‘I said I’m sorry, and anyway you weren’t looking where you were going either.’ She bent down to help him retrieve the boxes, most of which had remained intact, except for one which had burst open spilling its contents onto the pavement.
‘Shoes,’ he said, picking up a pair of high-heeled court shoes and replacing them in their box. ‘Not mine I assure you. My mother buys everything by the dozen or half dozen. No half measures. I was collecting them for her. She’s convinced that clothes and footwear will be rationed before long, hence the panic to buy out almost the entire stock.’
She piled the last box on top of the ones he was already holding. ‘Sorry again. I hope they’re not damaged.’
‘No harm done, but why the hurry? You came
round
that corner as if the devil himself was on your heels.’
‘I’ve got to find transport for some evacuees. My grandmother has decided to take them in. She’s like that.’
‘I see. I’m afraid I’ve only got my two-seater or I’d offer to help.’
‘Yes, of course.’ Miranda backed away, hoping that he had not noticed that she was blushing furiously. Of all the people in the town she had to bump into it was the person who already thought of her as a silly young girl, and the fact that he was a dashing RAF pilot made it even worse. Her one aim now was to put as much distance between them as humanly possible. ‘Got to go, sorry.’
‘Stop apologising. Anyway, you’ll never find any form of transport on a day like this, but I might be able to help.’
‘You can?’
‘I have a pal who owns a removal firm. If we’re lucky he might have a van in the garage. We can but ask.’
‘Thanks, but you needn’t put yourself out for me.’
‘I’m not. This is for the war effort. We’ve all got to do our bit, even collecting shoes for women who have enough pairs in their wardrobe to last a lifetime. Follow me, Miranda.’ He strode off along the street clutching the shoe boxes in his arms. ‘Hurry up,’ he called over his shoulder. ‘I’ve only got a twenty-four-hour pass, and so far today I’ve
done
nothing but run errands for my mother. Anyway, we’d better get there before they close or your grandmother’s guests will have to walk to Highcliffe.’
Miranda hurried after him, but she could not help wondering if she was doing the right thing. Granny’s reaction at the mention of Raif’s name and her overt disapproval of someone she professed not to know was quite baffling. She realised with a start that she had almost lost sight of him in the crowd, and she had to run to catch up. Perhaps if her grandmother were to meet Raif she might change her mind, as it was his family she seemed to dislike and not him personally. Anyway, he seemed determined to help and she had the feeling that once he had made up his mind to something it would be very hard to persuade him otherwise.
She followed him to the inner harbour where he had parked his car. He tossed the shoe boxes into the boot, locked it and strode off without waiting to check that she was following. In fact her patience was being stretched to the limit and she was rapidly growing resentful of his cavalier treatment. She was planning to tell him so if she ever caught up with him, but then he stopped suddenly and ushered her into a yard filled with commercial vans. ‘Wait here.’ He went to the office and disappeared inside, emerging moments later and brandishing a set of keys. ‘The only vehicle free is an open truck, but it’s better than nothing.’ He crossed the yard to where
an
ageing and slightly dilapidated lorry was parked, and opened the cab door. ‘Hop in. You can ride shotgun.’
She eyed the truck doubtfully, wondering whether it would be suitable, but as there did not seem to be any alterative she walked across the yard with as much dignity as she could muster and climbed into the passenger seat. ‘This is very good of you, Flight Lieutenant Carstairs.’
He gave her a quizzical look as he leapt into the driver’s seat. ‘That’s very formal, Miss Beddoes. How did you know my rank?’
‘You introduced yourself to us this morning, and I know what two stripes on your cuff means. I’m not a child, Lieutenant.’
He was suddenly serious. ‘I can see that, Miranda. You’re a very enterprising young lady.’
‘Now you’re being patronising. Have you got any sisters?’
‘Yes, as a matter of fact I have a younger sister.’
‘Really? What’s her name?’
‘Isabel, but we always call her Izzie.’ He started the engine. ‘And before you ask, she’s nineteen, several years my junior.’
‘I’m not that nosey, Flight Lieutenant.’
He checked the rear view mirror and began to reverse out into the street. ‘Where do we pick up our passengers?’
There was no mockery in his smile and in spite of everything she felt herself warming to him for
the
second time that day. She relaxed into the worn leather seat. ‘Alexandra Gardens. I left them standing on the pavement with their babies and toddlers. Tommy Toop and Rita went off to see if they could get help too.’
‘Let’s go then. Operation Nippers about to commence.’
Forgetting her irritation, Miranda smiled. Perhaps she had misjudged him, she thought, giving him a sideways glance as he concentrated on the road ahead. He was not handsome like Jack, who had the archetypal good looks of a film star, but Raif Carstairs had a strong profile, a determined chin and a twinkle in his dark eyes. He had taken off his peaked cap, revealing a high forehead and wavy brown hair. He seemed to sense that she was staring at him and he took his eyes off the road long enough to give her an encouraging grin. ‘Don’t worry. We’ll get them there, although I have a nasty feeling this contraption is being held together with string and rubber bands.’ He swore softly beneath his breath as he crashed the gears. ‘Sorry. I forgot I had a lady in the cab. I’m not used to driving a truck, but let’s hope it doesn’t conk out before we get you home.’
‘You’ll have plenty of people to get out and push.’ Miranda leaned out of the window as they pulled out on to the Esplanade. ‘There they are.’
He indicated and drew the cumbersome vehicle to a halt at the kerbside. Miranda jumped down to the pavement. ‘This is the best we could do, Granny.’
Maggie did not look too impressed. ‘Is it safe? And who is that man?’ She squinted short-sightedly at Raif as he climbed out of the driver’s seat, pausing for a moment to put on his cap.
‘It’s Flight Lieutenant Carstairs, Granny. He gave Rita and me a lift when the wheel came off Tommy’s cart.’
Maggie’s lips tightened into a thin line of disapproval. ‘So that’s the fellow.’
‘How do you do, Mrs Beddoes?’ Raif tipped his cap, but his smile faded as he met her ice-cool gaze.
‘How do you do?’ She turned to Miranda, lowering her voice. ‘That contraption doesn’t look roadworthy.’
‘It’s probably the last vehicle in town, Granny. I think you ought to thank Mr Carstairs for putting himself out like this.’ Flushing with embarrassment, Miranda shot a sideway glance at Raif but if he had heard he did not seem unduly put out by her grandmother’s ungrateful reaction.
‘I’m glad to be able to help in an emergency,’ he said smoothly. ‘But I think we’d best get the women and children on board as quickly as possible, don’t you?’
Maggie answered with an almost imperceptible nod of her head. ‘I suppose so.’
He moved swiftly to the rear and opened the tailgate. ‘I’m afraid this isn’t exactly the height of luxury, but we should be able to get everyone in.’
Maggie peered into the truck. ‘Whoever used it
last
didn’t bother to clean up after them.’ She beckoned to Tommy who was leaning against the railings with Rita at his side. ‘Make yourself useful. There’s a pile of sacks in the far corner. Climb up and spread them on the floor so that the ladies have something to sit on.’
Tommy scowled at her. ‘I ain’t here for me health, missis. What’s in it for me?’
‘Nothing, but you might get a better character reference when you next come up before Major Beddoes if you do as I ask.’
He sidled across the pavement and climbed into the truck. When he had finished Miranda was quick to observe that Raif slipped him a florin for his pains and Tommy sauntered off to get his cart.
With Raif’s help they managed to get the women and children settled, with Miranda and Rita the last to clamber onto the truck. Maggie sat in the cab with Raif and they set off for Highcliffe with everyone clinging on for dear life.
Halfway along the beach road Rita decided that the older children would benefit from a singsong and after a lot of encouragement she had them carolling ‘Ten Green Bottles’ at the tops of their voices. Miranda had never experienced anything like it and was frankly embarrassed by such loud behaviour in public. She was uncomfortably aware that they were receiving some strange looks from people walking or cycling home from work. By the time Raif pulled up outside Highcliffe they had
started
on ‘Run Rabbit Run’ and somewhat self-consciously Miranda had joined in, but the sight of a telegram boy in his navy-blue uniform sent a chill running down her spine and she held her hand up for silence. Not for nothing were these youngsters known as messengers of death. She jumped down from the truck and stood, frozen to the spot, staring at the fresh-faced boy who clutched a yellow envelope in his hand.
‘Telegram for Mr and Mrs Beddoes.’
Miranda closed her eyes, praying silently.
Don’t let it be my father. Please God, don’t let it be him
.
There was complete silence as Maggie opened the envelope and stared at the telegram. Even the babies had stopped crying and their mothers were staring at her with anxious faces. Then, to Miranda’s amazement, her grandmother threw back her head and laughed. A murmur of consternation rippled round the women. ‘It’s shock,’ one of them whispered. ‘I was like that when our cat got run over.’
Her companion nudged her in the ribs. ‘Shh.’
‘Granny, what is it?’ Miranda’s lips were so dry she could barely frame the words.
‘I’ll kill that son of mine,’ Maggie said, wiping her eyes on a lace-edged hanky. She took a deep breath, tucking the crumpled telegram into her pocket with a rueful smile. ‘I’m so sorry, everyone. I must apologise for the drama caused by my thoughtless son Jack. I’ll have more than a few words to say to him when he gets here.’
Miranda found herself clutching Rita’s hand so tightly that her knuckles stood out beneath her skin. She let go with a murmur of apology.
‘It’s not bad news then, Mrs Beddoes,’ Raif said politely.
‘On the contrary. My errant son says he’s got leave and he’s on his way home. If the Luftwaffe don’t kill him I very well might.’
‘You don’t mean that, Granny.’ Miranda glanced anxiously at Raif, hoping that he did not think that the entire Beddoes family was mad.
‘No, of course I don’t, but I just aged about twenty years. Then that’s my younger son all over. Thoughtless, feckless and utterly charming, just like …’ She broke off, frowning. ‘Never mind.’
The telegram boy cleared his throat in an attempt to attract her attention. ‘Any reply, lady?’
Maggie opened her handbag and took out her purse, handing him a coin. ‘What I have to say to my son would set the paper on fire. No reply, thank you.’ She turned to Raif. ‘Thank you for your help. I’m sure the ladies are very grateful to you, but now I expect you want to get the truck back to its owner.’
If her cool tone came as a surprise after his efforts to help, Raif did not betray his inner feelings. He smiled. ‘It was my pleasure.’ He turned to the women who were attempting to control their overtired and over-excited children. ‘Goodbye, ladies. I hope you find comfortable billets and that you can
return
to your homes in the not too distant future.’ He climbed into the cab and drove off.
With mixed feelings, Miranda watched the vehicle lumber down the hill on its journey back to town. Fate had thrown her quite literally into Raif Carstairs’ path twice that day, but now he was gone and it seemed unlikely that they would meet again. She should have been happy that the message in the telegram was good, but she felt deflated and even a little depressed. She came back to earth as Rita nudged her with a bony elbow. ‘Wake up, sunshine. I think we’re supposed to be helping.’
There was a sudden burst of conversation as her grandmother marshalled the women and children through the garden gate. Miranda was about to follow them but her legs felt like jelly and she was certain that they would give way beneath her if she attempted to take a single step.
‘What’s up with you?’ Rita demanded.
‘Nothing. I’m fine.’
‘You’re as white as a sheet.’
‘I thought the telegram was telling them that my dad had been killed in action.’ Miranda choked on a sob.
‘Yeah, well, it happens. I never knew mine so I wouldn’t know if he was alive or dead. Anyway, yours is okay so stop snivelling and do something useful. If we don’t get in quick we’ll find ourselves dossing down with dozens of snotty kids.’
Rita’s abrasive manner was all that was needed
to
goad Miranda into action. ‘You’re right. I don’t mind sharing my room with you at a push.’
‘Ta, your majesty. That’s very gracious, I’m sure.’ Rita tempered her words with a cheeky wink and a grin. She linked her hand through Miranda’s arm. ‘I’m glad it wasn’t your dad, and I can’t wait to meet Jack. He sounds like a bit of all right.’
‘Rita, you wouldn’t! He’s twenty-seven if he’s a day.’
‘I like older men. They’re much more fun than boys my age and they’ve got more money. Has Jack got a girlfriend?’
‘Lots. You’ll have to join the queue and I don’t fancy your chances.’