Some Lucky Day (20 page)

When she woke to the sound of the food trolley being wheeled in, she discovered that she was hungry for once, and could only hope it wasn’t fish again. As the NAAFI girl put the plate on the bed-table, she eyed the slivers of chicken and crisp salad with pleasure and anticipation, and wished the nurse would hurry up and help her to eat it.

The nurse came eventually, and after Kitty had managed to eat every last morsel, she tucked into the jelly. ‘Aaah,’ she sighed as she rested back against the pillows. ‘That’s better. Thanks, Nurse.’

‘It’s good to see you’ve got your appetite back,’ she replied with a smile. She dug into the pocket of her apron. ‘These should perk you up no end as well,’ she said as she pulled out two letters and a couple of postcards. ‘I’ll just open the letters for you and then leave you to enjoy them.’

Kitty waited impatiently and then greedily reached for the first of the thin blue airmails that had come all the way from Argentina. Her mother’s familiar looped writing blurred as Kitty read the single page.

Darling girl,

My heart aches with longing to be with you, to hold and reassure you, and to chase away the terrors which I know must beset you at this terrible time. We can only imagine what you are going through, but your father and I know our dearest girl, and we draw some comfort in the knowledge that you possess a formidable inner strength which will help you to overcome the injuries you have suffered, and find a way ahead.

My brave, brave girl, I’m so proud of you that my heart is full to bursting, and I think of you in my every waking moment, and pray that we can soon all be together again. I feel so helpless being so far away from you, and the house seems so empty and lifeless without you and Freddy here. And yet the memories linger in every corner, and sometimes I think I can hear you and your friends laughing and playing in the pool, and although it saddens me, it is a memory to cling to while we’re all apart.

Freddy wrote a beautiful letter to tell me what had happened, and although your father and I wept at the news, and were tormented by the fact that we couldn’t rush to your side, we knew you would not be alone. Freddy might seem to be devil-may-care, but when it comes to his little sister, he takes his responsibilities very seriously – and I am certain that dear Roger and Charlotte will also be stalwart in their comfort, for they are good, loyal friends who have only your best interest at heart.

We were delighted to hear that Freddy and Charlotte are planning a Christmas wedding, but once again we mourn the fact that we cannot be there. It seems that all the while this terrible war persists, your father and I will be forced to follow your lives through letters, but our thoughts and prayers are with you every step of the way.

Señor Fernandez and everyone here send their love, and their very best wishes. Your ponies are being exercised a bit more after putting on winter condition, and Juan Carlos told me to tell you that he will look after Sabre for you until you return.

I kiss you, darling, and hold you tight, just as I did when you were a tiny little girl. Never forget that you’re loved and that even in the darkest of days I will be with you in spirit.

Mother

Kitty let the thin blue paper drift to the bed and sniffed back her tears. Her mother’s gentle voice could be heard in every word of that letter, and the longing to be with her deepened.

She thought of the house and the beautiful landscape of the pampas, of seeing her father relaxing in his chair with a glass of good red wine after a hard day in the stables, and of her mother happily planning yet another luncheon party. Juan Carlos, Señor Fernandez’ son, would certainly look after Sabre, but she felt a stab of jealousy when she thought of him racing about the polo field on her pony – for she doubted she’d ever get on a horse again.

Determined not to let these depressing thoughts get her down, she swiftly read the second letter, which was lighter in tone, but just as loving. Her mother had clearly decided she needed cheering up, for there were snippets of gossip and a few light-hearted descriptions of various happenings around the stud and scattered neighbourhood.

Kitty felt a little more cheered, and so turned to the postcards. They were both from Charlotte, and were the naughty seaside variety, with very fat women in swimsuits being ogled by small, bumptious men. She gave a giggle and read the short message on the back.

‘I’m glad to see they made you smile.’

Kitty looked up with surprise and pleasure. ‘Charlotte,’ she yelped. ‘Oh, Charlotte. How lovely to see you.’

Charlotte grinned as she dumped several brown paper packages on the bedside chair and carefully gave Kitty a hug. ‘Freddy said you were feeling a lot better,’ she said, drawing back from the embrace and stuffing her uniform cap in her jacket pocket. ‘It’s so good to see you awake and cheerful. I was terribly worried about you the last time I came.’

Kitty noticed how her friend studiously kept her gaze from the stump of bandaged thigh that rested on top of the sheet. ‘Well, you’ve no need to worry about me,’ she said firmly. ‘I got out of bed today for the first time
and
won thirty Swan Vestas at five-card brag. Which rather proves I haven’t lost my mind as well as half my leg.’

‘Oh, Kitty.’ Charlotte’s brown eyes glistened with tears. ‘I can’t believe this has happened to you. I do so wish . . .’

‘Please don’t get sentimental on me, Charley,’ she broke in. ‘I’ve just read a letter from home, and I’m already feeling soppy enough.’ She looked down at her stump. ‘There are people in this place who are far worse off than me, so I’ve decided to follow Doreen’s example and make the best of it.’

‘Doreen?’

Kitty explained about Doreen and the garter. ‘I don’t think I’d go as far as that,’ she said hastily as Charlotte frowned, ‘but I’m not cut out to be a shrinking violet, so I’d like a really pretty dress to wear at your wedding – preferably scarlet, with a matching hat.’

Charlotte giggled. ‘That’s a bit of a tall order, and I was thinking of pink for my bridesmaid, but I’ll do what I can. Mummy’s got hat boxes and trunks full of clothes from when she and Daddy used to go to Ascot. When I go home next I’ll have a look in the attic, but I doubt there’ll be anything in scarlet – Mummy’s more a cream and pastel sort of woman.’

‘As long as it’s something bright and eye-catching,’ said Kitty. ‘I don’t look good in pink, neither do I plan on wearing beige or navy blue, like some maiden aunt.’ She smiled as her friend dared to shoot an anxious glance at her thigh. ‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘I’ll have a new leg by then, so I’ll be able to carry your train and do my bridesmaid’s duties without showing you up or falling over.’

‘I never for one minute thought anything of the sort,’ said Charlotte, who’d visibly relaxed now the thorny subject of amputation was done and dusted. ‘By the way, Mummy and Daddy send their love and asked me to tell you that Granny’s lift has been serviced and your bedroom is all ready for you when you’re released from this place. Mummy says that as you spent so much time there during school breaks, you’ll feel much more at home than in some rehabilitation hospital.’

Charlotte’s parents were endlessly kind and their home had been a haven during her school holidays when time didn’t allow her to make the long journey back to Argentina. It was the only private home she’d ever been in that had a lift, but the idea of burdening them with the sort of problems she no doubt faced in the future was unthinkable.

‘That’s very sweet of them,’ Kitty murmured, ‘and I do appreciate their kindness, but I’m better off here, Charlotte, really I am.’

‘Well, don’t worry about it now,’ said Charlotte. ‘You may feel differently once you’ve been here a while.’

She picked up the little packages. ‘Mummy and I thought you might appreciate a few treats,’ she said. ‘This one’s from Freddy, though where on earth he managed to get them I daren’t ask.’

‘You’ve seen him? How is he?’

‘I wangled it so I delivered a Spitfire to Cliffe early this morning, and we managed to have breakfast together before he went on ops. He’s looking very much more cheerful now he knows you’re on the mend.’ Charlotte gave a deep sigh. ‘The poor man was beside himself with worry, you know, and Commander Black had to ground him for a while after he nearly went into the side of the cliffs.’

‘Yes, Freddy told me. His Commander seems to be a very understanding man. Freddy’s lucky to have him.’ She looked down at the packages that were now strewn across the bed. ‘You’ll have to open these for me, Charley. It’s a bit tricky with all this blasted plaster on my arms.’

Charlotte undid the string and folded back the paper on each little gift. There was a heart-shaped box of chocolates with a fancy pink ribbon round it from Freddy; a lovely bar of scented soap from Roger, and a pretty nightdress with lace at the neck and hem from Charlotte’s parents; the latest Agatha Christie novel; two packets of Players’ cigarettes and the latest copy of the
Picture Post
.

‘Oh, Charlotte, you must thank your mother for me. The nightdress is gorgeous, so do tell her I’ll write when I’ve had the plaster casts off.’ She eyed the box of chocolates. ‘As for this, where on earth did Freddy manage to find such a luxurious thing?’

Charlotte grinned. ‘He
said
he won it in an arm-wrestling contest with one of the American pilots, though where he
really
got them is anyone’s guess.’ She shrugged as she sat down next to Kitty’s bed. ‘As long as they taste as good as that fancy box promises, it doesn’t really matter, does it?’

‘Open the box,’ said Kitty eagerly. ‘Let’s try them and see.’

Charlotte opened the box to reveal two layers of glistening heart-shaped chocolates, and they both fell silent as they closed their eyes and let the sweetness slowly melt in their mouths.

‘I’d forgotten how wonderful strawberry creams taste,’ breathed Kitty after the last morsel was gone. ‘Put the lid back on before I devour the lot, and then you’ve got to tell me what plans you’ve made for the wedding.’

With the box closed and tucked away in the bedside cupboard, Charlotte drew the chair closer to Kitty’s bed. ‘We decided we’d get married in our local church back in Berkshire where I was christened. Mummy’s already in a complete lather over the reception, which will be held at home, and is absolutely furious that it isn’t to be a summer wedding because her garden is now in full bloom and will be as dead as a dodo by Christmas.’

‘I’m sure your mother will make the house look beautiful, regardless of the lack of flowers,’ said Kitty, who’d always admired Charlotte’s mother’s flair for decoration. ‘Have you found your dress? Or will you do what most girls do these days and wear your uniform?’

‘Not likely,’ replied Charlotte. ‘Mummy’s lending me her beautiful wedding gown that she had made in Paris before the last war, and Grandma Elizabeth has promised I can use her lace veil and diamond tiara.’ She gave a rueful smile. ‘I’ll have to watch what I eat from now on, because the dress only just fits round my waist.’

As Charlotte happily went on to chatter about the guests, the flowers and the champagne her father had stored in the vast cellar beneath the lovely old Georgian house, Kitty began to have serious doubts about attending. Her presence might put a damper on things – after all, who wanted a cripple on a tin leg clumping about amid all the fine silks and lace of the county set?

And then there was the horror of having to face old school friends and the local girls she’d befriended during the holidays. It was one thing to feel at ease here among the others who were going through the same experience, and quite another to mingle with people who couldn’t possibly have the first inkling of what it was like to be in her situation.

For all her fine words and cheerful bravado, she just knew she couldn’t do it. And yet, as she tuned back into what Charlotte was saying, she also knew she couldn’t say anything today. Charlotte was happy and excited with her plans, and she wasn’t about to spoil it for her.

Peggy was just finishing her two-hour stint at the Town Hall when she saw her friend Dorothy from the billeting office come in. Slim and neat in a blouse and skirt, Dorothy was a bundle of energy, and, with her creamy complexion and rich brown hair, she looked at least ten years younger than her forty-three years.

‘Hello, Dotty,’ she said in delight. ‘I haven’t seen you in ages. How are things?’

‘Chaotic as usual,’ she replied. ‘With Tom away at sea and the kids down in Devon, you’d think I’d have time on my hands, but there are never enough hours in the day.’

‘I know exactly how that feels,’ said Peggy, ‘and I don’t have the added responsibility of trying to find homes for everyone.’

‘Speaking of which,’ said Dorothy with the hint of a smile, ‘we’ve finally caught up with your sister and her two spare bedrooms.’

Peggy chuckled as she took off her apron and headscarf and tucked them into her capacious handbag. ‘She’s not happy about it, I can tell you.’

‘She should be thankful I didn’t inform the police about her,’ said Dorothy. ‘It was in my rights to do so, you know,’ she said defensively. ‘And she could have been given a police record and very heavily fined if I had.’

‘I am grateful,’ said Peggy. ‘I know my sister can be awful, but she’s going through rather a lot at the moment, and that would have been the final straw.’

Dorothy folded her arms. ‘It’s only because you and I have been friends since we were in junior school that I didn’t inform on her,’ she said. ‘And I’m all too aware that you get the flak if something upsets her comfortable little life.’

‘That’s kind of you, Dot,’ murmured Peggy. She could see that Dotty was struggling to keep her anger with Doris under control. There was clearly a lot more she needed to say. ‘I don’t know how Doris managed to evade having evacuees before this,’ she prompted.

Dorothy’s lips thinned. ‘She’s been lying through her teeth about those rooms ever since the war began, you know. First, she said she had her maid living in; then she said a maiden aunt was staying – then her son needed one of the rooms as a study as he was involved in important work for the MOD, which meant that putting an evacuee in the other spare room would break the official secrets act. We didn’t push it, because she does a lot of charity work in the town and has quite influential friends.’