The Fleethaven Trilogy (98 page)

It was exactly what Kate wanted, although she felt a little guilty at deliberately trying to turn away suspicion from Philip and back on to Danny.

Later, in the privacy of her bedroom, Kate read Philip’s letter. It was carefully worded so that to the uninformed eye, it would be a friendly letter from a superior officer to his one-time driver for whom he had an affectionate regard. But to Kate there were hidden references that told her his feelings had not changed.

‘ . . .
I expect Lincolnshire is looking a little wintry at the moment – no fields of rippling ripe corn . . .
My current driver is not nearly so efficient at changing a wheel in the dark
. . .’

He remembered everything that had happened and between the lines, Kate could detect his longing for her. There was a paragraph in which there was more than a hint of anxiety. ‘
I
have written twice before, but have not had a reply from you. Perhaps you did not get the letters?’
No, she had not received his letters and had begun to think his silence meant the end of their affair. And then came his final words.

‘ . . .
Kate, we must meet. I shall be attending a big meeting in Grantham the week after next. If you’re still the new CO’s driver, you should be bringing him
. . .’

Kate closed her eyes and groaned. She had dreaded something like this happening. Now he was going to find out she had left the WAAFs and, most probably, why! But if he had to know, then he should hear it from her, and not from any other garbled source.

‘ . . .
We could meet on the Wednesday about four, at the station, if you could manage it?
Philip suggested.

‘Heavens!’ Kate murmured, as she turned over his letter and re-read the date. ‘That’s only the day after tomorrow.’

Her mind worked feverishly. She’d have to find a way to go and meet him. Now she knew he wanted to see her again, she would have to tell him about his baby daughter. ‘Oh dear,’ she agonized. ‘I hope I’m doing the right thing.’

Luckily for Kate, Wednesday was the day when Peggy, on her half-day off from work, took complete charge of Ella. ‘Much as you love her,’ Peggy had told Kate from the very first week, ‘you need a break. Besides,’ she had smiled down tenderly at the infant, ‘I want her to myself for just a few hours . . .’

So on Wednesdays, Kate was free to wander into town, to shop, to go to the cinema, or even to go home to Fleethaven Point if she had wanted. Thank goodness Philip had suggested a Wednesday, she thought; she didn’t even need to tell Mrs Godfrey or Peggy where she was going . . .

The biting February wind whipped along the platform as she waited for him, pulling her coat around her. Then suddenly there he was, striding towards her, and she felt tears prickle her eyes at the sight of his tall, lean figure. He grasped her hands in his, enveloping her cold hands in his huge warm grasp. ‘Kate . . .’ he whispered. ‘Oh my dear, don’t cry.’

She tried to laugh through the tears she could no longer hide. How could she explain, so quickly, that she was still a little emotional after the birth of her daughter?
Their
daughter.

Philip tucked her hand through his arm. ‘Come on – let’s see if we can find the famous British Restaurant,’ he said, trying to make her laugh. ‘How have you been? How are things at the station? I want to hear everything that’s been going on since I left.’

Kate swallowed nervously, realizing what a shock for him her news was going to be. As they walked, she glanced up at him. His face seemed thinner and there were dark shadows beneath his eyes. He looks desperately tired, she thought. Even his voice sounded weary as if he were having to force himself to speak cheerfully. ‘I’ve only just realized what’s different about you,’ he said as he sat down opposite her in a secluded corner of the restaurant. ‘You’re not in uniform.’

Kate drew in a deep breath. ‘Oh – er – no. I’ll explain – in a minute . . .’ She bit her lip. Before she told him anything, there was something she must know first. Leaning forward across the table, she said softly, ‘Philip, how are things with you? I mean – with Lizzie?’

The look of pain that was suddenly in his eyes shocked her in its intensity. ‘Oh, Kate. That’s partly why I asked you to meet me. I wanted to see you, of course. You’ll never know how desperately I’ve missed you all these weeks and months . . .’

And I you, she thought, but for the moment she remained silent.

‘But . . .’ He was strangely, unnervingly hesitant now, and Kate found she was holding her breath. Intuitively, she knew suddenly that she did not really want to hear what Philip was about to say.

He reached across the table and took her hands in his. ‘My daughter died three weeks ago. She suffered greatly during the final weeks and it has been a dreadful time for the whole family. Grace is distraught and needs me to be with her . . .’

How cruel it was, Kate thought, that Philip believed he had lost his only child, when in truth, he now had another. But she could not tell him now. Enough time when he had grieved for Lizzie and his wife was strong again. Oh yes, Kate promised him silently. One day you’ll know you have an adorable, perfect daughter. One day, when the time is right and you can rejoice whole-heartedly, I will tell you.

‘Poor Grace,’ she heard him saying, dragging her wandering thoughts back to the present, ‘after being so strong all these years while caring for Lizzie, she’s gone to pieces now.’

Now Kate knew what it felt like to be a mother, she spared a compassionate thought for the unknown woman who was Philip’s wife.

She squeezed his hands and whispered, ‘Philip – I’m so sorry.’

‘You do understand.’ His blue eyes, clouded with misery, searched her face. ‘I can’t bear the thought that I might lose you, but I must stay with Grace for a while.’

‘Of course I understand. I told you when you left, I would be waiting. It’s just going to be a little longer, that’s all.’ Her words were brave, but inside her something died. Would he ever come back to her?

As if reading her thoughts, he said urgently, ‘One day, we’ll be together. I promise you, Kate.’

He was a man of honour who was compelled, at this moment, to put duty before his own happiness; yet she knew he would not make such a promise lightly. She knew he truly believed he would be able to keep his pledge.

As they walked back towards the station, he said again, ‘You never did say why you’re not in uniform.’

Kate’s heart hammered. ‘Oh, I – er – thought it might be less conspicuous for you. Me being’, her voice broke a little, ‘a lowly corporal meeting a Group Captain.’ And when he said, ‘That was thoughtful of you, darling,’ she hated her lie all the more.

‘I’ll write to you,’ he said suddenly.

‘Oh er, yes, c-could you send the letters to my relatives in Lincoln? I’ll give you their address.’ She felt her cheeks grow hot as he glanced down at her.

‘Of course, if you’d rather.’

‘Only your letter took several days to reach me and – and I never did get the other two you mentioned. Besides . . .’ I might as well make it convincing now I’ve started, she told herself. ‘There are too many prying eyes at the camp . . .’

‘That’s true. You can write to me, though, at my new station. There’s no problem my end.’

When they parted two hours later on the platform, he said, ‘We’ll try to meet again . . .’

For a moment she clung to him and then, tears blinding her, she turned away and stumbled on to the train. As it pulled away, Kate sat huddled in the corner of the carriage, unable to bring herself to wave goodbye to him.

E
very day, Kate watched for the postman until even Mrs Godfrey remarked upon it. ‘Are you expecting a letter, dear?’

‘No . . . yes . . .’ Kate sighed. ‘Not really.’

‘Still hoping to hear from your mam?’ Mrs Godfrey asked gently.

Kate sighed heavily and forced a wry smile.

Mrs Godfrey shook her head. ‘I really don’t know what the woman can be thinking of. I’m sorry, Kate. I know she’s your mother, but honestly . . .’

Kate shrugged her shoulders in sad agreement. She could not tell even the kindly Mrs Godfrey everything that was locked away in her heart. She seemed to have lost everyone; Danny, Philip, and even her family at Fleethaven Point. If asked, she would have been hard-pressed to say which loss hurt the most.

The following day, they heard footsteps coming down the passage at the side of the house to the back door.

‘Now, who can that be, just as we’re sitting down to dinner?’ Mrs Godfrey grumbled, but without real rancour as she, more than anyone else in the house, loved visitors to call and relieve the monotony of her day.

The latch on the back gate clicked and through the livingroom window which looked out over the back yard, they saw Jonathan and Rosie appear.

Kate gave a squeal of delight and rushed to open the door. ‘Dad – and Rosie!’

There was much hugging and kissing and cooing over the baby before Kate could bring herself to ask the two questions uppermost in her mind. ‘How’s me mam?’ and ‘Is there any news of Danny?’

In answer to the first question, Jonathan pursed his mouth and shook his head, apology in his eyes. ‘Kate dear, I’ve tried everything I can think of, but she won’t budge. I begged her to come today but she refused. Your grandfather would have come, but he’s chesty this winter and travelling is so uncertain just now.’

Kate nodded. ‘I understand. I’ve taken some photographs of Ella with the camera he gave me. I’ll sort out one or two for you to take back.’

‘He’d like that, and maybe if your mother sees a picture of her grand-daughter . . .’

Kate forced a smile. ‘Maybe, Dad, maybe,’ but her tone did not hold much hope.

It was then she asked, ‘And Danny? Have you heard anything?’

Rosie’s mouth quivered and her eyes filled with easy tears. ‘Not a word, Kate. He must – be . . .’

‘No!’ The rebuttal came out sharper than she intended. ‘No, Rosie, don’t say that. Don’t even think it!’

Kate picked up the baby. ‘Come upstairs with us, Rosie, while I change her.’

Leaving Jonathan chatting to his mother, Kate and Rosie went upstairs to the large bedroom which Kate shared with her child.

‘Are you really happy here, Kate?’

‘As happy as I can be, Rosie,’ Kate said honestly, ‘in the circumstances. The Godfreys have been wonderful. I don’t know what I’d have done without them.’

Rosie bit her lip. ‘We all feel bad about ya mam’s attitude.’ She giggled. ‘Did ya know Danny’s mam went and had a big row with her? You should have seen ’em, standing toe to toe in the yard of Brumbys’ Farm going at each other hammer and tongs. Just words, like, I don’t mean it got to fisticuffs.’

‘Thank goodness for that,’ Kate said, feeling once more the stinging slap on her cheek. ‘Even so, I’m sorry they had a quarrel over me. I didn’t want to be the cause of more resentment between them. There’s enough already!’

Rosie shrugged. ‘I reckon they both enjoyed it really. Danny’s mam came back her eyes sparkling and her cheeks red. I think they both got a lot of things off their chests they’ve been harbouring for years. Mebbe they’ll start speaking to each other now.’

Kate laughed and said wryly, ‘I shouldn’t hold your breath waiting for that to happen, Rosie!’

Rosie smiled. ‘No, mebbe you’re right.’ Then her smile faded. ‘I seem to spend me life waiting.’

‘I know, love, I know.’

Rosie sat down on Kate’s bed watching the baby kicking in her high-sided cot. ‘Poor Danny. He’s got a son he’s never seen and now a niece he doesn’t even know about.’

Kate sat beside her, putting her arm around the girl. Rosie leaned her head against Kate’s shoulder, drawing strength. Her action reminded Kate sharply of their childhood.

‘You must believe he’s still alive, Rosie. I do,’ she said firmly.

‘I’ll try, Kate. But if he isn’t – I really don’t know how I’m going to live out the rest of my life without him.’

Silently, Kate thought, ‘I know just how you feel, Rosie.’

*

The weeks of winter turned into spring. Despite the deprivations of war, Ella thrived and the little terraced house was a haven for Kate. She received letters frequently from her stepfather with loving messages from her grandfather. But no word came from her mother or from her sister, Lilian.

There was still no news of Danny, and no more letters from Philip either.

Then suddenly, one morning while she was busy sewing, she heard Mrs Godfrey’s voice raised in alarm. ‘Kate, Kate, come quick . . .’

Fearful that something was wrong with either the old lady or Ella, Kate hurried through to the back room to find Mrs Godfrey waving a yellow envelope at her. ‘It’s one of those dreadful telegrams. It’s addressed to you and the lad’s waiting for a reply.’

With trembling fingers, Kate tore open the thin envelope and unfolded the single sheet of paper. There was no name or address of the sender and the message just said, ‘
Meet me Grantham station. Thursday the twenty-fifth.’

Kate gasped. Philip. It must be from Philip. He wanted to see her again. He was trying to keep the promise he had made to her.

‘Well, what is it?’ Mrs Godfrey asked.

‘It’s nothing – I mean, it’s not bad news . . .’ She went to the back door to tell the boy that there was no reply. Closing the back door, her eyes still on the piece of paper in her hand she walked back into the room to stand uncertainly beside Mrs Godfrey’s sofa.

‘Who’s it from, then?’

‘I – it doesn’t say . . .’ Kate hesitated. This time she had no choice but to take Mrs Godfrey partially into her confidence. ‘I – I think it’s from Ella’s father.’

‘Oh!’

‘He – wants me to meet him – in Grantham, the day after tomorrow.’

‘Do you want to go?’

Kate met the older woman’s gaze and nodded, knowing her eyes were shining her answer.

‘Then go, my dear. I can mind Ella until Peg gets home from work. She can put her to bed.’

‘Are you sure?’ Kate asked diffidently.

‘Of course I am. The little one’s taken well to the bottle and it’s time you had a day out and I’m sure . . .’ the older woman wriggled her shoulders as if she too shared Kate’s excitement, ‘ . . . you’d like to see your young man again.’