The Way Ahead (35 page)

D-Day.

Daniel dashed from the kitchen to find that Patsy was still hanging on.

‘You took a long time to crawl out of bed on a day like this,’ she said.

‘Patsy, you beauty,’ said Daniel.

‘You sure you mean that?’ she said. ‘After all, I’m not eighteen yet—’

‘And not quite seventeen, either,’ said Daniel.

‘And genuine beauty doesn’t clothe a woman until she’s at least twenty-one, according to artists,’ said Patsy.

‘Don’t they paint them in no clothes?’ said Daniel. ‘Anyway, don’t talk yourself out of it, count yourself an exception. You’re worth framing for phoning the news. Patsy, the invasion, they’ve done it, the Second Front’s been opened up.’

‘Daniel, it’s exciting, really exciting, isn’t it?’ said Patsy. ‘And I’m proud, aren’t you, your guys and my guys hitting Hitler’s pitchers out of the stadium?’

‘You’ve lost me there,’ said Daniel. ‘Now if you’d said knocked ’em for six down the Old Kent Road, I’d be with you.’

‘We’re losing each other,’ said Patsy.

‘Come and join the family tonight,’ said Daniel.

‘Could I do that, Daniel, could I come round and listen to your radio with you?’

‘You bet,’ said Daniel, ‘and bring your legs with you.’

‘Daniel, I guess they’ll just come with me kind of naturally.’

‘Good-oh,’ said Daniel, ‘I like ’em.’

‘You’re kinky,’ said Patsy, but she was laughing as she hung up. No way was she going to let her Pa divorce her from Daniel and his old-fashioned English family.

It was D-Day 2, and follow-up landing-craft were swarming over the waters of the still heaving Channel, where the wind was beginning to lessen a little. The Americans and British were consolidating their footholds, reinforcements pouring onto the beaches, and the sounds of war crashed on the ears. The Germans, desperate to break the footholds, were up against men trained for months for just this kind of battle, and they were, moreover, relentlessly attacked by air forces that never stopped coming at them.

The British 30 Corps, Montgomery’s crack troops, forged ahead, smashing into the opposition with tanks and guns, and from the established headquarters Boots and the rest of the staff could barely keep up with the reports detailing progress.

The Commando teams, behind the German forward lines, were engaged with enemy reserve formations. Colonel Lucas was in his element, and Tim was a hundred per cent supportive. They had known the humiliation that had driven the BEF, beaten and disorganized, to the beaches of Dunkirk. Now they were back in France, something Colonel Lucas had promised himself the moment he stepped off a fishing-boat at Ramsgate and
picked
out Eloise Adams of the ATS as the young lady most likely to give him the help he was set on at the time.

At this moment, Eloise, on liaison duty at the London headquarters of the Free French, was beside herself with exultation. He was over there, husband Luke, he was at the commencement of the bruising journey to Berlin with the invasion army. On reaching Berlin, he would, she was sure, be the one to drag Hitler the monster from his lair and hang him for all the misery and torment he had inflicted on the people of Europe.

Eloise had enjoyed many imaginative moments in picturing her barnstorming husband as the people’s avenger. Her imagination was preposterous, her French temperament volatile, her little conceits absurd, which all in all made Luke regard her as irresistible, such was the weakness of strong men hopelessly in love.

Eloise was sure her half-brother Tim was with the invading Commandos, and sure too that her father was over there, her English father, the man her French mother had known for only a few weeks, but who had loved him very much.

A French officer, Captain Debret, entered the room she used as a makeshift office. He was forty, handsome, moustached and amorous. He had a bottle of wine in his hand, and was slightly flushed. Eloise was seated on a small settee, reading a Free French circular relating to the Normandy landings. It had just been issued.

‘Ah, my beautiful Eloise—’

‘
Mon Capitaine
, I am not your beautiful Eloise.’

‘But why not? It could be achieved easily. We only need to make love.’

‘You’re drunk,’ said Eloise.

‘Of course.’ Captain Debret eyed her khaki-clad legs. Pointedly, Eloise gave her skirt a tug. ‘France will be ours again. I am—’ An involuntary hiccup emerged. ‘I am celebrating.’

‘One can celebrate, but it’s disgusting to be drunk at ten in the morning,’ said Eloise.

‘Not on a morning like this. Drink wine with me, angel of France.’

‘I don’t deny I’m angelic, but now is not the time to get drunk,’ said Eloise. Captain Debret seated himself, a little gratefully on account of a generous amount of tipple, and a little happily on account of placing himself close to her. ‘You must know there’s a public relations meeting with representatives of the Free French newspaper and a BBC interviewer in half an hour,’ said Eloise, ‘when you will be one of the officers expected to give the Free French view of the Normandy landings.’

‘Ah, half an hour,’ murmured the enamoured captain. ‘In that time, we could accomplish much.’ He put a hand on her knee. ‘First, some wine.’

‘If you insist,’ said Eloise. She took the bottle from him and poured some over his head. ‘It is an offence to touch the person of a lady officer, but I shan’t report you. Not on a morning like this. Yes, how wonderful to know France will belong again to those who truly love her.
Mon Capitaine
, I think you need a towel. Here is one. It’s only a hand towel, but it will do, I think.’

‘Rosie!’ An excited Polly was on the line. ‘You’ve heard, of course.’

‘Over and over,’ said Rosie, ‘we’re simply letting our radio run on and on. Felicity’s given in to compulsive listening, she’s got Emily on her lap and Giles sitting on the floor at her feet. She’s hoping Giles is understanding just a little of what D-Day represents. It’s all passing over his head, of course, but Felicity says that one day he might tell his grandchildren he was indirectly present at the battle for Normandy.’

‘I can’t settle,’ said Polly. ‘I listen, I walk about, I listen, I go and look at my vegetables, I listen again, and the twins think I’ve got my knickers in a twist.’

‘Do they think that?’ asked Rosie.

‘My dear, Gemma asked if I was wearing something that didn’t fit. Can you believe an infant of two and a half capable of coming to that kind of conclusion?’

‘I can believe anything of yours and mine,’ said Rosie, ‘they’re infant marvels. Of course, yours are my brother and sister.’

‘Yes, I still realize they’re all related, Rosie old sport,’ said Polly. ‘Put any complaints in writing.’

‘Complaints?’ Rosie laughed. ‘One day I’m going to send you a certificate of merit for producing them.’

‘Rosie, I can’t settle here today,’ said Polly, ‘I’m driving over with the twins to spend the day with you and yours and Felicity. Any objections?’

‘None!’ said Rosie. ‘All of us and our talking wireless would love to have you, and you are, as well, Felicity’s favourite mother-in-law.’

‘Rosie, you stinker,’ said Polly, ‘I don’t want to be known as anyone’s mother-in-law. It’s not my style.’

‘Come over,’ said Rosie.

Neither of them had mentioned Boots, Tim or Colonel Lucas. It was as if they were keeping their fingers crossed, and that any mention would break the spell. Nor had Rosie mentioned that Felicity thought she might be pregnant. Felicity, naturally, didn’t want anything said about it until the doctor had confirmed it. The test might prove negative. She would know tomorrow.

30 Corps, pressing on, were worrying the Germans, and the Americans, badly mauled during their D-Day landing, had recovered, won their beachheads, and were massing for a forward charge. Back-up units were wallowing across the Channel in fully-laden landing-craft, and supply ships were riding in. The beaches were swarming with men, stores, tanks, guns, ambulances and everything else necessary to sustain the impetus of yesterday’s landings and 30 Corps’s battering advance. Again, the skies were patterned with Allied warplanes swooping in to target German defence positions. Naval guns pounded away, and shells from German guns caused the sea to erupt around the ships. Men worked feverishly amid the hell of the back-up of D-Day 2. It reflected a courage and effort that could never have been put down on the most detailed of plans. True, plans asked for such endeavours, but only when the time came could commanders expect answers.

Cassie, her children at the re-opened church school, was shopping in Walworth Road when she met Mrs Hobday. Cassie walked in the lively way of her kind. Bulky Mrs Hobday had a kind of cheerful waddle.

‘Hello, ducks, nice to see yer,’ said the neighbourly fat lady, ‘ain’t it good news we’re gettin’? Me old man brought me ’ome a bottle of Guinness last night when he come rolling in from the pub, like he knew about the landings when nobody else did. Well, he’s always saying he’s prophetic.’

‘I feel all excited,’ said Cassie. ‘I mean, it really does look as if the Army’s done the Germans in the eye.’

‘Yes, and ain’t they givin’ it to them Japs in Burma as well?’ said Mrs Hobday. ‘I dunno where Burma is meself – here, love, didn’t you tell me your hubby’s there?’

‘Yes, he’s there,’ said Cassie, and wondered if there was any country farther away than Burma, if any husbands were farther away from their wives than those in Burma. She hadn’t heard from Freddy for ages, but refused to consider the possibility that the Japanese might have got him at last.

In the steamy heat, the British 14th Army was coming to the end of the greatest land battle of the war against Japan, the prolonged and savage battle for Kohima, the gateway to Burma, Mandalay and Rangoon. Freddy and his Chindit comrades had been in the thick of things for months, Freddy twice wounded, patched up and returned to combat duties.

The Japanese were at last in retreat after what they themselves described as one of the greatest battles in history.

As far as Freddy was concerned it had been something he’d be glad to forget.

He longed for home, for Cassie and his kids.

‘Leah, my dear,’ said Mr Isaac Moses, father of Rachel, ‘I’ve been giving much thought to your attachment to Edward Somers. Much thought.’

‘Yes, Granddad, I expect you have,’ said Leah.

‘I’ve left it until now to speak to you,’ said Isaac, ‘but am no more certain in my mind about how to advise you than when your mother first showed me Edward’s letter.’

‘I understand, Granddad,’ said Leah.

‘And do you understand that I wish this attachment had not been formed?’ said Isaac gently. He was not an authoritarian, any more than he was strictly orthodox, but he was faithful to his religion and the people of Israel.

‘Yes, I understand that too,’ said Leah, quite sure that she did not want to hurt her grandfather, or her mother, by adopting a rebellious or precocious stance.

‘There’s to be a year, I believe, before you and Edward make up your minds about whether or not you wish to marry,’ said Isaac.

‘We both think that would be right, Granddad,’ said Leah.

‘In the event that you did marry, would you convert?’ asked Isaac.

‘No, Granddad, I wouldn’t change my religion,’ said Leah.

‘And if you had children?’ said Isaac.

‘Edward and I would have to discuss that,’ said Leah.

‘I think, Leah my dear, I will sit back and wait to see what effect the passing of a year has on the situation,’ said Isaac.

‘Yes, a year might change things,’ said Leah, but she didn’t think it would. ‘Granddad, thanks for being so kind.’

Isaac smiled.

‘No good ever came out of loud voices, Leah,’ he said. ‘Not even the smallest good ever came out of Hitler’s loud voice, except for people like Goering, who has been given the privilege of stealing the treasures of nations.’

‘Is that what has happened, Grandad?’ said Leah.

‘I know it has, my child, and one day the whole world will know it, along with other perfidies,’ said Isaac.

HITLER’S REACTION TO
the Allied invasion was not one of anger or alarm. He actually expressed a kind of satisfaction. He said, in effect, that now the hitherto skulking armies of the warmongers had at last shown themselves, it would avail them nothing, for they had given the Germans the opportunity to confront them face to face and smash them. It was an opportunity he himself had long wanted.

‘My
Fuehrer
,’ said Goebbels, Hitler’s number one yes-man, ‘as you inspire those of us who serve you, so you will inspire our invincible German soldiers.’

Well, he said something like that, being what he was, an acolyte of self-delusion. He was also intellectually superior to the rest of the Nazi hierarchy, and a brilliant propagandist. That, combined with his self-delusion, enabled him in his speeches concerning the war against Russia to make defeats sound like victories.

Stiffening German resistance in Normandy was not affecting the build-up of Allied resources, but it
was
causing casualties, most of which were speedily dealt with by the well-organized medical machinery. They were carried across the Channel in hospital ships to be treated in the United Kingdom.

D-Day 10. Montgomery’s British and Canadian troops had taken Bayeux, and been given a joyful welcome by its people. The seizure of important bridges was effected, and this opened the way for an attack on Caen, heavily defended by German Panzers and infantry. Montgomery’s plan was to draw the bulk of Germany’s divisions to Caen and give the American forces the opportunity for a wholesale breakout elsewhere.

At home, phones were ringing everywhere, such was the need for communication of all kinds at this particular time in the war. Rosie answered hers.

‘Hello, Rosie Chapman here.’

‘What-ho, Rosie Chapman, how’s your famous self and your bundles of chubby joy?’

‘Tim!’

‘Yup, me myself,’ said Tim.

‘Oh, you lovely man for phoning,’ said Rosie, who had always enjoyed a very happy relationship with the son of her adoptive father. ‘It tells me you’re somewhere over here and not over there. Are you?’