Life for Dana began to improve with every week that passed, except, of course, that she now worried over Hank’s safety as she still worried, in her heart, over Con’s. But Hank’s loving admiration was balm to her wounded spirit and Vera remarked how much happier her friend had become since meeting the Canadian.
Dana agreed that this was so, but kept to herself one reason for allowing Hank to get close in a way which no one but Con had ever achieved. It was because, a week after the dance at which they had met, she had learned why the young pilot with the scarred face had not been present. His Wellington had been hit as it delivered its
bombs to the target, and though others in the flight had seen two parachutes loom and begin to descend earthwards, they thought that both airmen had been deliberately fired upon by the ground forces. Since no word had come of their capture it was taken for granted that the entire crew was dead, and Dana felt miserably guilty. She could have been nicer to the scarred young man; he had only wanted friendship, after all, but she had denied him even that, and now it was too late. So she gave Hank the warmth and affection which the scarred young pilot had never received, or not from Dana at any rate. She said no word of this to anyone, and very soon such a confession was unnecessary. She liked Hank for himself, and when he talked of taking her home to Canada after the war she went along with it. Why not? A new life in a new country was not such a bad idea, after all.
Chapter Seventeen
A YEAR PASSED
: Hank and his crew were posted to Cumbria and Dana and he exchanged letters and phone calls, as did Dana and Polly, though the two girls did not meet, since Polly was now stationed in Scotland. Polly had a week’s leave over the Christmas of 1943 which she hoped to spend in Liverpool with Ernie, but this proved impossible. Two days before her leave started the
Sarah Jane
and the rest of the convoy would set out across the Atlantic Ocean, heading for America to pick up the supplies, so desperately needed, which would be available to them as soon as they docked in the United States. Polly told Dana exactly how things stood.
‘I’ve got a week’s leave and there’s no point in going back to Liverpool, even though air attacks are rarer than they were,’ she said. ‘Any chance of me coming to you? If one of the other land girls is going home for Christmas couldn’t I sleep in her bed? And the air force will give me a ration card which I can pass on to the farmer and his wife, if that would make me more acceptable as a guest.’
Dana, who had had to walk through a snowstorm to reach the telephone box in the village, gnawed her lip. ‘Don’t worry about the ration card; the old devil always
manages to put food on the table, and now that there are five of us she has five extra ration books. The trouble is, Poll, she absolutely hates me – well, she hates us all, but she hates me most – and that means she’d say you couldn’t come out of sheer spite. But there’s a pub in the village – it’s called the King’s Arms – and they do take folk in from time to time on what they call a bed and breakfast deal. I could book you in there for half a dozen nights, and we could split the cost. The only thing is, what would you do with yourself all day?’
Polly was beginning to reply, optimistically, that she was sure she could find something to occupy her when she had a bright idea. ‘I remember you saying last year, Dee, that at Christmas the farm was pretty well dead, with very little work to do,’ she pointed out. ‘Why don’t you take a week’s leave, the same as me? If you could find us a cheap hotel or boarding house in Norwich we could have a grand time. We could explore the city, go to the cinema and the theatre, visit museums and art galleries; oh, we could do all sorts! And so far as I can recall, you’ve not had a day’s leave since you started there in the summer of ’forty-one.’
‘Gracious, you’re right,’ Dana said, much struck. ‘I keep thinking I’ll wait until things are quiet and then try to get across to Ireland. Just for a few days, you know, because I’m missing all my little brother’s childhood and of course it would be heavenly to see Castletara, Mammy and Johnny Devlin once again.’
‘And there’s always the chance that Con might be there,’ Polly said, highly daring, but Dana demurred.
‘No, I told you that he was no longer a part of my life, and I meant it. If we met we’d be polite, but after all this
time we’d be strangers to one another; he might not even recognise me! I’d like to take Hank back to Castletara with me, introduce him to Feena and Johnny and the little lad, but it would be rather dodgy since he’s a Canadian as well as a flight lieutenant. Ireland
is
a foreign country no matter how you look at it, and he can’t afford to get wrong with either our authorities or his own, so I’ve more or less put a return visit for myself on hold.’ She lowered her voice. ‘There’s rumours round here about an invasion …’
Polly cut across her at once. ‘Perishin’ walls have perishin’ ears, careless talk costs lives, be like Dad, keep Mum …’
‘All right, all right, I get the message,’ Dana said, giggling. ‘We’ll talk when we meet. Oh, Polly, it will be grand to see you again after so long!’
Despite Dana’s fears that the Tullimores would try to prevent her from taking a week off to see her friend, this did not prove to be the case. Young Reggie Tullimore announced that not only was he coming home for Christmas, but he would be bringing a couple of pals, and the Tullimores promptly decided that life would be easier if all the girls took that week off. Delighted, everyone made their plans, and on
23
December a chattering, laughing little group descended from the platform at Thorpe station to go their various ways. Dana was secretly delighted as she stood by the doors which led to the buffet to see Polly give her a quick indifferent glance and then walk straight past her; in fact she had to grab Polly’s arm before her friend recognised her.
The two girls laughed and clung, then went into the
buffet for watery coffee and a ham and pickle sandwich, for their lodgings were on Riverside Road, a very short walk indeed from the station, and the landlady worked at a munitions factory on day shift so would not be home to let them in until after five o’clock.
Outside the station buffet snow began to fall, and inside it grew colder every time a would-be customer pushed open the door. The two girls stuck it for a while but then Dana picked up her kitbag, slung it over her shoulder, and beckoned Polly to follow her. ‘It’s stopped snowing, and the river has willow trees and a path alongside the water,’ she told her friend. ‘If you can put up with the cold, at least we can talk there without fear of being overheard. And I’m longing to know what you’ve heard about you know what.’
Polly laughed but got to her feet at once. ‘It can’t be much colder out there than it is in here, every time the door opens,’ she observed. ‘Lead the way, Miss McBride!’
And presently they were on the towpath, and were at last able to speak freely. ‘Everyone’s talking about an invasion, just like they did at the beginning of the war, only this time it’s us invading them and not vice versa,’ Dana said. ‘Remember how we were told to “keep an eye on the sky”, where we would see paratroopers dressed as nuns floating down to earth? I used to keep an old kitchen knife in my pocket whenever I went out walking, but whether I should have been strong enough – or wicked enough, I’m not sure which – to plunge it into the heart of a descending German I rather doubt. I’ve heard the air force chaps talking in the King’s Arms but there’s been no talk of invasion from the sky this time; this time it’s—’
Polly’s hand shot out and cut Dana’s words off in midstream.
‘You aren’t supposed to know anything about it, and nor am I,’ she said reproachfully. ‘Tell me about Hank – I take it he’s a flyer? I know he’s Canadian, and a great many of his fellow Canadians are over here at the moment. We meet ’em all over; grand chaps for the most part.’
For ten minutes or so the two girls walked briskly along the towpath, their eyes on the fast-flowing Wensum and the willows on the opposite bank, leaning over the water as though to admire their reflections. Dana guessed from her friend’s demeanour that she had something to say which was too important to be hurried, so she asked no questions but bided her time. Knowing Polly as she did she guessed she would not have to wait for very long, and sure enough Polly gave her a quick glance and was just beginning to speak when the snow started once more. It wasn’t much at first but it soon became clear that this time it did not intend to stop. Furthermore, a nasty wind got up, and with one accord the girls turned back and began to hurry towards Foundry Bridge.
‘It’s no use trying to talk,’ Polly shouted. ‘Oh, damn it, we were better off in the buffet, but you know Norwich better than I do. Isn’t there a quiet little café where we could talk without being overheard? I was posted pretty near here just before you joined the Land Army, but we only came into Norwich twice and then the gharries left us on Castle Meadow, which is nowhere near the station.’
‘There’s a fish and chip shop not far from here,’ Dana began, and then inspiration struck. ‘I know! There’s a sort of shack place about a hundred yards or so from
Foundry Bridge. It’s quite near the river and they do a pretty good pot of tea and slices of buttered toast for one and six, and in this weather it’ll probably be deserted.’ She grinned at her friend through the now fast-falling flakes. ‘Will that suit your majesty?’
Polly confirmed that it would be fine and ten minutes later the two of them were shaking the snow off their coats and hats – Dana’s hat had caught enough in its wide brim to make at least two good snowballs – and settling themselves at one of the small tables. The place was empty save for a large woman who leaned her elbows on the counter and addressed them in a jovial tone.
‘Whass your pleasure, young ladies? Don’t go sayin’ bacon sandwiches, ’cos we’re clear out of bacon, and the fancy cakes what I make when I can get hold of dried fruit went by mid-morning. But of course there’s plenty tea in the urn and there’s toast, or a nice jam sandwich. There’s even one of them there Cornish pasties if you’ve a fancy for suffin’ hot.’
The girls settled for tea and toast, and having provided them with both the woman went back behind her counter, turned up a small wireless set, and got out her knitting. The girls had seated themselves as far from her as possible, and now Dana leaned forward eagerly. ‘Well? Come on, Poll, what is it you’ve got to say? I can tell there’s something.’
Polly put down her toast and leaned forward. ‘Me and Ernie are sick of waiting to get married, so we’ve set a date for this coming June,’ she hissed. ‘I’ve gorra friend in the WAAF – Wendy Burrowes – what got married before the war. She kept her wedding dress in a linen bag all done up with moth balls so’s it wouldn’t be
spoiled, ’cos she has a younger sister and she thought maybe the girl might want to get married herself one day and might need the dress. Only thing is Wendy’s about my size but her sister just growed and growed and now it won’t fit her at all – the wedding dress, I mean – so Wendy’s give it to me.’ She sighed romantically. ‘It’s a dream of a dress, honest to God it is. I showed Ernie – I know it’s supposed to be unlucky but I think that’s only if you’re wearin’ it at the time – anyway I showed it to him and he said we should set a date for our wedding ’cos we were both sick to death of waiting. We decided on the twenty-first of June because that’s Ern’s birthday and he reckons it’s always sunny and bright, besides being the month that strawberries are ripe …’
‘Oh for goodness’ sake get on with it!’ Dana said impatiently. ‘So you’ve settled on a wedding date at last; I really don’t blame you …’
Polly scowled at her. ‘Shurrup and listen, can’t you?’ she said crossly. ‘Only when Ernie told a feller on his ship what knows a thing or two about who will be where and when, he advised Ernie agin it. He said that due to unforeseen circumstances he didn’t think anyone would be granted leave at that particular time and when Ernie pressed him, he said it were all very hush-hush. Everyone’s going to be rare busy was all he’d say, so I asked a few questions too and the general feeling was the same in the WAAF as it was in the merchant navy: that we’d chose a real bad month for to get wed. I suggested to my wingco that maybe we’d best plan on an autumn wedding, and he looked real awkward and said if I’d take his advice I’d forget nineteen forty-four altogether and start planning for nineteen forty-five.’
‘Gosh! Then from what you’ve told me I reckon the folk in the know think the invasion will start this coming summer,’ Dana said, keeping her voice low. ‘Of course I’ve heard rumours – everyone has – but this sounds like the real McCoy.’
‘It is,’ Polly said, nodding. ‘So Ern and I talked it over on the telephone, making sure we didn’t give no secrets away, mind you, and decided we’d be safe enough to get wed the followin’ June; same date as before only a year later. If the war’s over by then – and the chaps in the know seem to think it will be – then everything will be just right. I’ve got me dress so I shan’t have to wear uniform and we’ll find a couple of rooms in Liverpool which will do until we’ve saved up enough money for a real home of our own. But the main reason I wanted to talk to you now, Dee, is because I want you to be my bridesmaid. I had thought to ask you to give me away but my wingco offered – he’s awful kind – so I knew you’d understand that I couldn’t possibly refuse him. He’s going to let us use his cottage in Devon for our honeymoon; ain’t that just wonderful? So if you’ll say you’ll be bridesmaid I’ll be that made up I’ll dance all the way up the aisle.’
Dana chuckled appreciatively. ‘It’s sweet of you, alanna,’ she said. ‘And I’ll be honoured, of course. But unless I’ve been demobbed by then I’ll still be in breeches and my funny hat. Don’t you think that would rather put a damper on the proceedings?’
Polly laughed too. ‘So it might, except that Wendy had a dress made for her chief bridesmaid what’s just about your size. Wendy’s bridesmaid was a tall, skinny girl, just like you – and though the dress was pale pink to
start with, it’s got somewhat faded over the years and is now a sort of magnolia colour. Honest, queen, it will suit you down to the ground. Promise me you’ll be my bridal attendant! I shan’t feel properly married if you won’t.’