A Girl Can Dream (39 page)

‘Blimey,’ said the driver, and he had a big grin on his face as he eyed Meg up appreciatively as he got back in the cab. ‘No wonder you were in a hurry to get home.’ And then he turned to Meg and said, ‘Good day to you, miss. Look after him well; one of Britain’s heroes, he is.’

The driver gave a wave of his hand as he set off, and Meg put her arm through Stephen’s and they began their staggering walk down the lane, with the dogs running in front of them.

‘I am so glad that you’re safe,’ she said. ‘You have no idea … Your parents will be over the moon. Why did you tell no one you were coming?’

‘Because I’m not supposed to be here,’ Stephen said.

‘What d’you mean?’ Meg said uncertainly.

‘The doctors said I wasn’t well enough to travel.’

‘Won’t they come looking for you?’ she asked anxiously.

‘I doubt it,’ Stephen said. ‘It’s not like going AWOL from the regiment. I escaped from a military hospital. And it was a nice enough place but I thought I had been there long enough. I wanted to come home and so I sneaked out.’

‘But how did you get here?’

‘Well, I got a train as far as Wolverhampton and just outside the station got talking to a fellow soldier,’ Stephen said. ‘He’d been sent to meet the train to get supplies for the camp at Flaxley Green, just outside Rugeley. I couldn’t believe my luck, and when I told him where I lived he went out of his way to take me as far as the head of the lane. And by the way,’ he added, drawing Meg to her stop and kissing her lips gently, ‘it’s just so lovely to see you again.’

‘And you,’ Meg said. ‘Oh, Stephen, I’m all of a quiver inside.’

‘I’d forgotten just how beautiful you are’ Stephen said, ‘and just how compelling those dark eyes are.’

‘Stephen!’ Meg said in embarrassment. ‘I bet you say something similar to all the girls.’

‘All the girls,’ Stephen repeated. ‘Are you kidding? There have been no girls in my life but you. Unless,’ he added with a grin, ‘you count the nurses. Some of them were very cute, but there was this god-awful matron who would bawl you out if you even looked wrong at them, never mind throw in a bit of flirting.’

‘Hmm, well, I would say the god-awful matron was needed,’ Meg said. ‘Especially if the wards were full of young men like you. Now here you are home, can you manage the step?’

‘’Course I can,’ Stephen said. ‘Don’t start fussing me. I can’t stand that.’

‘I don’t call asking someone a civil question fussing,’ Meg said a little testily.

‘No,’ Stephen said. ‘I’m sorry. I’m a bit tired.’

‘And sore, I’d warrant,’ Meg said, seeing the lines of pain creasing Stephen’s face. ‘Which is probably why the hospital said you weren’t recovered enough to come home. Still, you’re here now, so you go and sit down and I’ll put the kettle on and make us some tea.’

And when they had the tea before them, Meg told him, ‘Your parents don’t know whether you’re even alive or dead. I wouldn’t be surprised if your mother doesn’t have a heart attack when she comes in and sees you.’

‘I’d hoped they might have heard something.’ Stephen said. ‘I was out of it when I arrived at the hospital first. I’d been in the water for hours and I was raving with fever, and had lost my dog tag and everything. They didn’t think I would survive. One of the doctors told me that my leg was shot to blazes. Under this plaster cast it’s one hell of a mess. By the way, where’s Joy?’

‘Her parents were told that her brother was alive but injured and in hospital, so she’s managed to get off to see him.’

‘Her parents were lucky,’ Stephen agreed. ‘And I’m sorry no word has got through to Mum and Dad and you. You must have all been worried sick, but even if I had my dog tag intact, or could tell them who I was, the army are going to find it difficult to locate everyone, because we were coming back in dribs and drabs, on little fishing boats or on those naval ships not bombed out of the water. Then some were severely injured and some weren’t going to make it and though they were rescuing men till two days ago, I would hazard a guess there were still plenty left on the beaches; others just disappeared. How do they account for all those men and send the appropriate telegrams? It will take a long time for some to be informed, that’s for sure.’

‘Of those left,’ Meg said, thinking of her own father, ‘would they be taken to a POW camp?’

Stephen shrugged. ‘They should be,’ he said, ‘but I don’t know. People said they weren’t taking prisoners. But if they were, that would cause a further delay in informing the army and relatives.’

‘I can see it must be very difficult to try and account for everybody,’ Meg said. ‘But it’s awful just waiting and waiting and hearing nothing but bad and then worse news on the wireless.’

‘I can imagine,’ Stephen said. ‘That’s why I wanted to come home. I wanted to come and see them, show them that I am alive when a good few aren’t. The two farm hands, Luke and John …’ He trailed off.

‘Both killed?’ Meg touched his hand.

Stephen nodded. ‘We were wriggling across the beaches together and when we saw the Stukas diving we tried to burrow into the sand, but there was no time. They strafed us with bullets, killed Luke and John outright and peppered my leg. I would have been one of the ones left behind on the beach if fellow soldiers hadn’t risked their lives by carrying and dragging me to one of the pier heads.’

Meg was silent for a time, digesting the full horror of his story. ‘Will used to buy the papers and we saw the pictures,’ she told him, ‘but being there must have been truly terrible,’ and she gazed at him and felt a jolt in her heart at realising how close he had come to death. Their eyes locked and Stephen leaned forward. Meg left her chair and kneeled on the floor in front of him and held his hands . . ‘Can I kiss you?’ Stephen said huskily. ‘It’s what I’ve dreamed of and that has kept me alive.’

How could Meg refuse that? ‘Oh, Stephen,’ she murmured as their lips met and Stephen’s arms encircled her. It was only Meg’s second proper kiss and she never wanted it to end and she let out a moan of desire that surprised her.

‘Meg,’ said Stephen but as they eventually drew apart but Meg lifted her head for she had heard the rumble of the cart over the cobbles in the yard and she got to her feet . .

‘Here are your parents coming home,’ she said, glancing out of the window, ‘so I shall go back to hoeing the turnips.’

‘There’s no need to do that,’ Stephen told her.

‘Oh, I think there is,’ Meg said. ‘They will want you to themselves for a while.’

As she walked towards the door, Enid came through it carrying shopping bags in her hands. Stephen had got to his feet and was holding onto the mantelshelf for support. Meg watched the blood drain from Enid’s face, the bags fell from her hands as her mouth dropped open, and then she let out a shout of pure joy and ran across the room crying, ‘Stephen, my darling, darling boy.’ She held him so tightly and with such enthusiasm as tears spurted from her eyes. Her love for her only son and relief that he was alive was almost tangible, and Meg felt a lump form in her throat. She turned and headed quietly out of the door, her emotions churning.

The following day, Stephen received a letter from the military hospital, demanding his return.

‘Will you go back?’ Meg said, when he read the contents of the letter out at the breakfast table.’

‘Not likely.’

‘Can you just refuse?’ Meg asked. ‘Won’t you get into some awful trouble?’

‘No, I don’t think so,’ Stephen said. ‘Look, there is no point in taking up a hospital bed when I can just as well be treated at Flaxley Green camp, which is no distance at all; they will have medical facilities there.’

‘So will you tell them that?’

‘Yes,’ said Stephen. ‘I’ll tell them that I will recover much quicker in the bosom of my family. And,’ he added with a grin at Meg that caused her heart to give a lurch, ‘that I have my favourite girl in all the world to mop my fevered brow.’

‘Huh,’ Meg said. ‘What did your last servant die of?’

‘Overwork,’ Stephen said sagely and the two fell about laughing. Enid glanced at them and then at Will. She loved to hear Meg laughing. and she was delighted for she already loved Meg like a daughter and there was no one better she could have chosen for her son.

Joy was also aware of the stronger feelings developing between Stephen and Meg as soon as she returned. On her first night home, as they undressed for bed, she said tauntingly, ‘Stephen still just a friend then? ‘Then added, ‘Don’t bother answering because you’re blushing and that answers the question.’

‘It just happened when he came home from Dunkirk,’ Meg attempted to explain. ‘I thought, what if he had died like his two friends he still misses so much, and that sort of opened my eyes to just what he means to me.’

‘You don’t have to justify yourself to me,’ Joy said gently. ‘If I was nasty I could say “I told you so”, but I won’t because I’m so pleased for the pair of you.’

‘Thanks,’ Meg said. ‘Sometimes it feels wrong to be so happy when the war is going so badly.’

‘So will it go better if you go round miserable?’

‘No, but—’

‘Look, Meg, we’re at war,’ Joy said, holding on to her friend’s hands. ‘No one knows what the future holds for any of us so grab happiness where you can. Enjoy your time together and never feel you shouldn’t.’

Joy’s words did make Meg feel better, but there was no doubt that the war news was more worrying than ever as German bombers pounded the coastal towns. The newspapers were filled with distressing images of dispossessed and traumatised families sitting in the ruins of their homes, and stories of those left dead or badly injured. Everyone knew invasion was a real and very likely possibility as they read of beaches rendered out of action, laid with anti-tank mines. and coils of barbed wire with pillboxes erected behind them. As France fell, the Battle of Britain began in the air and householders were issued with leaflets entitled:

If the invader comes;

what to do – and how to do it

‘It isn’t much use,’ Enid said, casting her eyes over it when it arrived through their door. Meg had to agree. All it did was tell people to stay where they were till they received further instructions.

This was reinforced by posters appearing telling them, ‘FREEDOM IS IN PERIL – DEFEND IT WITH ALL YOUR MIGHT’, and other useful or not so useful pieces of advice.

People were advised to hide food and maps and disable bicycles not in use. All cars were supposed to be hidden away and immobilised, and all directional signs were painted over both on the roads and at railway stations, which proved thoroughly confusing to ordinary people trying to go about their daily business. The more nervous citizens began to see paratroopers or German spies behind every tree.

In mid-June Aunt Rosie sent a telegram to Meg asking if she could come over and see her on the farm the following Saturday. Meg felt heavy-hearted; she knew that only a matter of great importance would bring her aunt to Penkridge. Enid knew it too, and she sent the boy back with the message that she could come and welcome, and that someone would be there to meet her off the train.

On Saturday morning Meg rattled through her jobs but was totally unable to eat breakfast.

‘Just a wee bit,’ Enid urged, looking at Meg’s white, drawn face.

Meg shook her head. ‘I would be sick if I tried,’ she said. ‘All I want is for the time to speed by until I see my aunt.’

Stephen was quietly watching Meg biting her lip in consternation, and tenderness flowed through him as he saw how she suffered. He wished he had some way of easing things for her.

When the train pulled in and Rosie alighted, Meg gave a sigh and ran towards her. Rosie put her arms around her young niece and Will was glad she looked a kindly sort of person. It eased his mind somewhat. Rosie shook hands with Will as she thanked him for looking after her niece so well. And then she said, ‘How far is the farm from here?’

‘Three miles or so,’ Will told her, wondering why she wanted to know.

‘So we could walk?’

‘You could, but we have the cart outside.’

‘Yes, thank you,’ Rose said. ‘But it will give me a chance to chat to Meg as we go.’

Will took the travel bag that Rose had been carrying and said briskly, ‘Well, I’ll relieve you of that anyway, and when you are ready there will be a welcome and a meal at the farmhouse.’

‘Thank you,’ Rose said, ‘you are so very kind.’

As she watched him walk away, she put her arm through Meg’s and led her from the station. ‘Now, Meg,’ she said as they walked slowly together, ‘I’m afraid I have bad news about your father.’

‘Just tell me, Aunt Rose,’ Meg said. ‘Dad’s dead, isn’t he?’

Rose nodded. ‘Yes, I’m sorry, my dear, he is.’

Meg turned to her aunt and said matter-of-factly, ‘I knew already, really, you know. I faced it when I didn’t hear anything.’

‘How do you feel, my dear?’

‘I feel nothing really,’ Meg said, ‘and yet I remember the great father he was to me for fourteen years. It was after Mom died that I realised what a weak man he was and it was that weakness and loneliness and need that gave someone like Doris such power over him. But now he’s gone anyway.’

‘He was left behind at Dunkirk,’ Rosie said. ‘“Missing presumed dead” was what the telegram read.’

‘Even if he was left alive, he probably wouldn’t have stayed that way for long,’ Meg told her aunt. ‘Stephen, the son of the house, is home from Dunkirk and he heard that the Germans were taking no prisoners.’

‘Yes, and I think if he’d been alive he would have turned up in some POW camp by now. Apparently the telegram came about three weeks ago but Doris didn’t tell me immediately.’

‘Well, that’s not your fault, Aunt Rosie,’ Meg assured her aunt.

Rosie was feeling extremely uncomfortable, but knew that Meg deserved to know it all. ‘Doris might not have wanted us to know the facts about your father, but she was quick enough to tell others.’

‘What others?’

‘The orphanage where Ruth is,’ Rosie said. ‘As soon as she got that letter, she went to there to tell them that Ruth was now technically an orphan because she was no blood relation, but she has grandparents living in Ireland who would probably take her in.’