The Uncertain Years (7 page)

‘When are you off duty?’

Becky started at the sound of Major Brent’s voice. She’d been so intent on making this car shine that she hadn’t heard him approaching.

Spinning round, she saluted. ‘Tomorrow afternoon, sir.’

‘Mr and Mrs Hammond were pleased to see your brother’s letter, and they would like you to visit them. I’ll tell them you’ll be there around three o’clock.’

It took her a few moments to recover, not sure from his tone if that was a request or an order. ‘They want to see me?’

‘They want to thank you personally for sending the news about their son.’

‘Oh, but that isn’t necessary. I was pleased to do it.’

Major Brent studied the girl in front of him, and, as if he could read her mind, said, ‘They are very kind people, and you will be doing them a great favour by visiting them.’

‘Of course, sir.’ Still surprised that they had invited her to their home, she took a deep breath. ‘Where do they live?’

‘Locally.’ He handed her the address. ‘You’ll be able to get the bus right outside the gates.’

Becky took the paper from him. ‘Thank you, sir. Er … should I take something – flowers, or something?’

‘Just take yourself.’ He actually smiled. ‘Wash off the grease before you go.’

‘Cheeky devil,’ she muttered when he was well out of earshot.

They’ll live in a big posh house
, Becky thought as she polished buttons, shoes, and anything else that needed shining. She never wore make-up, but today called for a touch of lipstick. She gave a final check to see that all the grease had been removed from her nails, and then headed for the bus stop.

It was only a short journey to Frimley, or so it seemed. She was rather nervous about meeting David’s parents. He’d obviously had a good education, and came from a well-to-do family, but she’d never felt intimidated by him. She hoped his parents were easy-going like him.

Once off the bus she consulted the map she’d brought with her and started walking. It soon became clear that she was now in an affluent part of town, but that was only what she had expected. Any fool could tell from his accent and bearing that he wasn’t from a working-class family. It was a puzzle why he had ever taken an interest in her, but she was glad he had. He was such a lovely man, and she prayed daily that he was alive and well somewhere.

Ah, this must be it. Pausing at the gate she gazed up the drive at the house. House! It was more like a mansion. The thought crossed her mind that she might have to curtsy, and giggled quietly to herself, feeling apprehensive.

This was ridiculous, she told herself sternly. They were only people, and she had always been able to get along with everybody. They were like so many parents grieving for the son they feared was lost to them. They had asked to see her, and she hoped she could bring a little comfort into their lives by talking about their son.

That settled her and the nerves fled. Head up, she marched up the drive and knocked firmly on the door.

A maid opened the door, and she said, ‘I’ve come to see Mr and Mrs Hammond. My name’s Rebecca Adams, and they are expecting me.’

‘They are in the sitting room, Miss. Follow me, please.’

The couple waiting to greet her were smiling as she entered. Mrs Hammond was around the same height as Becky – five feet six, or thereabouts. She was dressed simply in a well-cut linen frock of navy blue, and her only jewellery was a string of pearls. Mr Hammond was tall and straight, as if he had a military background, and the resemblance to his son was remarkable. David would look just like this when he was older. The only indication of the stress they were under showed in the dark circles under their tired eyes.

‘Rebecca.’ Mrs Hammond stepped forward and shook her hand. ‘Thank you so much for coming, and allowing us to read your brother’s letter.’

‘Yes, indeed.’ Mr Hammond smiled. ‘It was a comfort
to know someone had seen our son during the evacuation.’

‘I wanted you to know that, and to read my brother’s account for yourselves. You can keep it if you like. Just ignore the chatter about family and friends.’

‘That is very kind of you,’ Mr Hammond told her, obviously pleased to be able to hold on to the precious letter. ‘Your brother has given a vivid account of what it was like at Dunkirk, and we will treasure it.’

‘My brother’s always been good with words. He’s going to be a war correspondent.’

‘I’m sure he’ll make an excellent one.’ Mrs Hammond indicated a chair. ‘Sit down, Rebecca. We hope you can stay for a while?’

‘I’m not on duty until tomorrow morning.’ Becky sat in one of the large armchairs, and glanced admiringly around the elegant room. ‘You have a beautiful home, Mrs Hammond.’

‘Thank you. It has been in the Hammond family for four generations.’ Mrs Hammond turned her attention to the maid who had just wheeled in a trolley of refreshments.

‘Will you tell us how you met David?’ Mr Hammond asked.

Becky took the cup of tea being offered her and placed it on a small table beside the chair, then feeling quite at ease she began to tell them about the day she had gone to enlist. Then the trick he had played on her with the car, smiling as she told them about the posh restaurant he’d taken her to by way of an apology.

‘And what was the food like?’ Mr Hammond asked, the same amused glint in his eyes as his son’s.

‘Very nice.’ She pulled a comical face. ‘I let David choose everything because I couldn’t read the menu. It was an experience and I enjoyed every minute of the meal. He left immediately after, and we’ve been writing to each other regularly.’

‘And is that all there is to your relationship?’ Mrs Hammond asked gently.

‘Oh yes. I must seem like a child to him, but he’s been so kind to me, and I’m very fond of him.’ She didn’t mind admitting her affection for him, and there was no reason to take offence that they had asked. It was only natural they would wonder.

At that moment the door was pushed open and a little girl of around three years old came in. She was looking sleepy and clutching a rag doll.

‘Hello, darling.’ Mrs Hammond held out her hand. ‘Did you have a nice sleep?’

‘Yes, Grandma. I’m thirsty. Can I have a drink, please?’

‘Of course. Tea, milk or orange juice?’

‘Milky tea, please.’ The girl’s attention turned to Becky and she studied her with interest.

‘Say hello to our guest first, Sara. This is Rebecca.’

Becky leant forward and smiled. ‘I’m pleased to meet you, Sara. That’s a lovely dolly you have there.’

The girl nodded. ‘Grandma made it for me. You’re in the army like my daddy.’ Her bottom lip trembled. ‘Why hasn’t my daddy come home? He should have. Grandpa said the soldiers were brought home in boats.’

Startled, Becky shot Mr Hammond a questioning glance.

‘Sara is David’s daughter,’ he explained, speaking quietly. ‘Her mother died soon after the birth.’

After giving a slight nod, Becky slid off the chair and knelt down by Sara. She was a pretty thing, with curly blonde hair and large, troubled, blue eyes. ‘Your daddy was helping his men get to the boats and wouldn’t leave until they were all safe. He’s a good officer, and you can be proud of him. He’ll come home when he’s found them all, but it might take some time.’

Sending up a silent prayer that she wasn’t lying about him coming home one day, she gave Mrs Hammond a worried look, and breathed a sigh of relief when she nodded agreement.

‘That’s right, Sara. Rebecca knows because her brother saw him, and he’s written a letter to tell us.’ Mr Hammond took the letter from his pocket. ‘See, here it is.’

‘Oh.’ Sara smiled at Becky then, obviously relieved to know someone had seen him. ‘Daddy gave me a present before he went away. Would you like to see it?’

‘I’d love to.’ Becky stood up, pleased to see the distress no longer showing on the girl’s face. She’d reached out to comfort and had spoken without thinking. There was no way she could tell this lovely little girl that her daddy might never come home.

Sara took hold of Becky’s hand. ‘Come on, it’s in the kitchen, but we must be quiet.’

She allowed herself to be towed along a passage towards the back of the house. Then Sara placed a finger over her lips to indicate that they mustn’t speak, and slowly pushed open the door.

The kitchen was large and the door to the garden was open, letting in a cooling breeze. Becky was wondering what the gift could possibly be when the girl pointed towards a round basket in the corner. Inside was a bundle of chocolate brown fur.

‘It’s a Labrador,’ Sara whispered, ‘but she’s only a baby and needs her sleep.’

A small face appeared and the puppy opened its eyes. A tail thumped with pleasure when she saw Sara.

‘Ah, she’s awake. We don’t have to whisper now.’

‘She’s beautiful,’ Becky said.

The girl sat on the floor, laughing, as a wriggling little animal clambered all over her in an effort to lick her face.

Joining them on the floor and receiving an equally enthusiastic greeting, Becky asked, ‘What’s her name?’

‘Daddy said we have to call her Becky, because she’s pretty and will probably get into lots of mischief.’

‘Oh did he!’ There was a smothered laugh behind her, and Becky turned to see Mr and Mrs Hammond standing in the doorway. Their son certainly had a wicked sense of humour, and it looked as if his parents shared that trait.

‘Give Becky a drink, Sara, and then we can all go into the garden.’

Deciding to have some fun with them, Becky said innocently, ‘I’m not thirsty, Mrs Hammond.’

‘Not you,’ Sara giggled. ‘Grandma’s talking about my puppy.’

‘Is she? It’s confusing because Becky’s my name as well. In my home we have to call my brother Will, because if we
shout for Bill, my father and brother both come. So, if you call Becky I’ll answer as well.’

The little girl looked puzzled as she gave the puppy a drink. ‘But your name’s Rebecca.’

‘I know, but all my friends call me Becky.’

‘Oh, I see. But I’ll have to call you Rebecca, otherwise I’ll get in a muddle. Why did my daddy give the puppy your name?’

‘I have no idea.’

As they all walked into the garden, Becky said dryly to David’s parents, ‘Just you wait until I see your son. I’ll have a few words with him. I never get into mischief!’

As they all laughed, Becky realised they were no longer assuming that David might have died in France. He would come back. He had to.

It could be a false hope, but for the moment talking and laughing about him in a natural way had eased the pain of loss a little for all of them.

July arrived without any news of David, and Becky was trying very hard not to give up hope. But it was hard. Also, the direction the war was now taking didn’t help to ease anyone’s worries.

On 30th June, German troops occupied Guernsey, then on 1st July they went into Jersey. And it had just been announced that tea was to be rationed. The allowance was only two ounces per person, per week, and in spite of all the gloomy news, that brought a smile to Becky’s face. The kettle was always on in her house and she wondered how on earth her mother was going to manage. Such a small amount wouldn’t last her for long.

‘Lovely day, isn’t it?’ Alice came and stood beside her.

‘Hmm.’ They both turned their gaze skyward, watching the trails being made by planes weaving and diving. There was a battle going on up there. ‘What does your boyfriend do in the RAF?’

Alice closed her eyes for a moment, then said, ‘I expect he’s up there.’

‘He’s a pilot?’ Becky spun round to face her friend, concerned. Alice had been secretive about her boyfriend, talking only about the things they did on their infrequent dates, but never any personal details. However, she was certain this boy was special to her friend. To find out he was a fighter pilot made Becky sad. They were in the midst of a desperate battle. The Germans were determined to wipe out the air force before invading, and these pilots were equally determined to stop them. Everyone was aware of the great responsibility they had resting on their young shoulders.

Alice said nothing as she fingered a chain around her neck. Then she smiled. ‘I came to see if you were free for lunch?’

Knowing her friend well enough not to pursue the subject, Becky smiled back. ‘Give me five minutes to clean up.’

Only having an hour, they hurried towards the mess.

‘How are the boys?’ Alice asked as they sat down.

‘Fine, as far as I know. If we can get leave at the same time you must come home with me, Alice. We might be lucky and one or more of them will be home at the same time.’

‘Oh, thanks, I’d like that. But wouldn’t your parents object to you bringing home a stranger?’

‘You’re not a stranger,’ Becky laughed. ‘They know all about you. We’re great letter writers in our family.’

‘I see, you’ve been gossiping about me, have you?’ Alice teased.

‘Of course. So, will you come?’

‘I’d love to. We’ll see what we can arrange.’ She gave Becky a sympathetic glance. ‘I’m sorry there hasn’t been any news about your colonel. Have you been to see his family again?’

‘I went last week while you were on leave. Last time I was home I found a beautiful doll I’d been given when I was about Sara’s age, so I gave it to her. It was like new,’ she hastily added. ‘It was even still in the same box. I was more interested in playing with the boys’ toys.’

‘That doesn’t surprise me,’ Alice laughed. ‘Did Sara like the doll?’

‘Yes, she seemed very pleased with it, and was immediately pressing her grandmother to knit more clothes for it. Whoops!’ Becky shot to her feet. ‘I must get back. Are you going out tonight?’

‘Yes, I’m meeting Anthony at the Red Lion – if he can get away.’

‘Have a good time then.’ Becky patted her friend’s shoulder as she walked past, well knowing that it would be an anxious wait for Alice. Pilots didn’t always appear after a day’s flying.

She spent the evening writing letters to her parents, Will, Bob and Jim. She also wrote a chatty letter to David’s parents. Although they hid it well, she knew they were half out of their minds with the lack of news.

Collecting up the pile of letters, she took them to the post room. Then as it was still only nine o’clock she went to the NAFFI to spend an hour or so with some of the other girls.

From a very young age Will had always had a quick mind. He absorbed information easily and retained it. His mother said he had been born knowing what was going on around him, and he now blessed that ability to learn easily. Although he wasn’t going to be part of the fighting forces, he had to be able to take care of himself so he didn’t put anyone else in danger. His job was going to be to report on the war, not make a nuisance of himself. Nevertheless, he couldn’t wait to start doing his job – that was as long as they accepted him, of course. He knew what all this testing was about.

They had to be sure they were choosing the right people for the job, but he wished they’d put him out of his misery and tell him if he had a chance of being given the job.

As if in answer to his thoughts, the officer who had been his instructor in communications came and sat opposite him. ‘You’ve done well, Adams.’

‘Thank you, Captain.’ Will drew in a deep breath. ‘Does that mean I’ll be accepted?’

‘You will be receiving an official letter within the next week, but I can tell you now that you’ve passed the tests with flying colours.’

‘Oh, that’s marvellous!’ Will smiled with relief.

‘Go back to working for your newspaper, but it won’t be long before you’re sent for. You could be asked to cover any kind of operation, so I hope you’re ready for the unexpected.’

‘I am,’ he said confidently. ‘I don’t care what I do or where I go.’

‘That attitude has gone a long way to convincing
everyone you’re right for the job. But, while you’re waiting for your first assignment, there’s one hell of a battle going on in our own country. The Luftwaffe are determined to destroy our air defences before they launch an invasion fleet. If they don’t they will be slaughtered as they try to cross the Channel. They’ve been attacking shipping, and are now intent on destroying our airfields, so you’ll have plenty to keep you occupied until you’re sent for.’

Will nodded in enthusiasm. Ever since Dunkirk he had been restless. There was so much happening and he didn’t want to sit on the sidelines. When he’d applied to be a war correspondent he’d had no idea if he stood a chance, but he’d managed to show them he was capable of doing the job. He knew that was no mean achievement. ‘Hope they send for me soon.’

‘I know you’re anxious to get involved in the war, but you’ll have your chance.’ The officer’s expression was grim. ‘At the moment we are on the defensive. But eventually the tide will change.’

‘You sound certain, sir.’ Will studied the man in front of him. ‘This country is alone, our shipping is being sunk at an alarming rate, and although the army was snatched off the beaches at Dunkirk, all their equipment was lost. The only thing standing between the Germans and us is our air force. The odds against us are high.’

‘Indeed they are.’ Suddenly the officer’s face lit up. ‘But I believe those very odds are helping. Many countries, including Germany, think we’re finished, and it’s only a matter of time before we’re beaten into submission. They’re wrong. We will never surrender!’

Will burst out laughing. ‘So we’ve all been told by Churchill.’

‘There you are then, it must be true.’ He became serious again. ‘We’re in for a long hard struggle, and keeping the people informed is going to be vital. That’s where you, and others like you, are going to be needed. It isn’t going to be an easy task you’ve chosen, but you already know that.’

‘Yes.’ Will nodded. ‘I saw how dangerous it could be at Dunkirk, but it’s what I want to do.’

‘And I believe it’s something you are suited for.’ He stood up. ‘It’s been a pleasure to meet you, Adams. Don’t be too impatient. You’ll be called upon soon enough.’

When Will arrived home that evening his parents were waiting anxiously for him.

‘How did you get on?’ his father asked as soon as he stepped inside the door.

‘I’ve been accepted, but I’ve got to wait for an official letter.’ Will dropped his bag on the floor, buoyant with a sense of achievement.

‘I knew you’d do it.’ His mother nodded proudly. ‘What happens next?’

‘They said they’d call on me soon, but in the meantime I can go and work on the paper again.’

‘Tell us all about it,’ his father urged, pulling out chairs from the table so they could sit down.

The tea was already made, and Will said, ‘It’s a very meagre tea ration, isn’t it, Mum?’

‘It certainly is. The only way I can make it last is to make the tea weaker.’ Mavis grimaced as she poured them
all a cup. ‘We’ll just have to get used to it.’ She settled down and looked at her son expectantly. ‘Now, we want to hear all your news.’

For the next half an hour Will told them about the different methods of communication he’d been shown, and how they’d been very thorough in testing to make sure he was up to the job. ‘They won’t send anyone out with the troops unless they’re sure they can cope.’

‘I expect your experience at Dunkirk helped to convince them.’

‘I’m sure it did, Dad.’ He drained his cup. ‘Have you heard from Becky? I was wondering if her colonel has been found.’

‘No, sadly, he hasn’t.’ His mother refilled his cup. ‘She came home for a couple of days while you were away.’

‘Oh, damn. We all keep missing each other. How is she?’

‘She’s worried about this man,’ Bill Adams said, ‘but apart from that I think she’s enjoying army life. It seems to suit her.’

‘She went to see his family and gave them your letter. They were very pleased to know someone had seen their son at Dunkirk and Becky let them keep it.’ Mavis had sadness in her eyes as she asked, ‘What do you think his chances are?’

Will closed his eyes for a moment, reliving the scene in his mind, and then he shook his head. ‘He went back to the beach looking for the rest of his men. If no word has been heard from him by now, then I would say he probably died there.’

‘Oh dear, I am sorry. She seems very fond of him.’ Mavis
began clearing the table. ‘So much heartache. Men killed and missing, and those young pilots risking their lives every day. What’s next, I wonder?’

Father and son gave each other a glance that said worse was to come, but neither of them put their fears into words.

‘Anything from Bob and Jim?’ Will changed the subject. It was no good alarming his mother with speculation. No one could predict the next move in this war.

‘They write home when they can,’ Bill said as he lit a cigarette. ‘The last we heard they were fine.’

‘Good.’ Will stood up. ‘Any hot water, Mum? I’d love a bath.’

‘Yes, you go ahead while I make us a meal.’

Picking up his bag, Will headed for the door, stopped, and turned round, his expression pensive. ‘It doesn’t seem long ago when we were all messing around with the bike, and not a care in the world. How things have changed.’