We'll Meet Again (4 page)

They parted company and Marcus walked home alone, musing on the problem. Having told the men they must not say anything to their wives, he could not break his own rules and tell Chloe. But how often could he say ‘Careless talk costs lives’ before she exploded in anger?

His family was everything to him and their safety was of paramount importance. Gilbert was in the army and would have to take his chances with that, but what of Chloe and Prudence? How could he make sure they were safe? He had considered sending them to Canada – he had cousins there – but Chloe would not
hear of going without him. ‘If the Queen can stay with the King, then I can surely stay with you,’ she had said. As for Prue, being young and beautiful, she would be especially vulnerable. Thinking about it made his blood run cold. It was why he had agreed to set up this local resistance unit. If there were enough of them scattered about the country they might do some good.

He found Gilbert in the gun room. There were several pairs of Wellington boots and walking shoes arranged in rows beneath pegs on which hung coats and mackintoshes. On a shelf above them were a couple of deer stalker caps, some riding hats and a tin hat. A cupboard housed their sporting guns and a few boxes of cartridges for the pheasant season, but these had been augmented with a couple of army-issue rifles, boxes of ammunition and grenades stacked in a corner.

‘Hallo,’ he said. ‘Spot of leave?’

‘Long weekend. You’ve got a fair arsenal here.’

‘A lot of it is Home Guard stuff. The men have taken their rifles home, but I’ve got the ammunition here, couldn’t risk children getting hold of it.’

‘No, but it could make quite a bang here.’

‘It’s safe enough. We are going to build somewhere to store it.’

‘Secure, I hope.’

Marcus laughed and tapped the side of his nose. ‘So secret no one will have an inkling it’s there.’

Gilbert laughed too. ‘In a village like this, you must be joking.’

‘Then I’ll just have to trust everyone to keep their mouths shut, won’t I?’

‘Did you know Prue is anxious to do something for the war effort?’

‘Yes, she’s been nagging me about it.’

‘Are you going to let her go?’

‘I can’t really stop her, can I? She’ll be twenty-one next month. I can only try to influence her decision.’ He paused. ‘Come on, let’s go and change for dinner.’

‘Tim Mortimer is coming. Prue has gone to meet his train.’

‘Oh. Don’t know what to make of that. Is it serious, do you think?’

Gilbert shrugged. ‘Only they know that. Seems a nice enough chap.’

Prue parked the little red MG on the road near the station and ran up the slope onto the platform just as the train drew in. There were several workers from the airfield waiting to board it, but Tim was the only one to alight. ‘Hallo, gorgeous,’ he said, bending to kiss her cheek.

She smiled at the flattery. ‘Hello yourself. Did you have a good journey?’

‘Not bad, at least the train was on time.’

‘You are looking tired.’ They began to walk down the platform towards the level crossing gates as the train continued on its way to London.

‘I’m OK. All the better for seeing you. I hope your parents didn’t mind me asking to come, but I couldn’t go on leave without seeing you.’

‘No, of course they didn’t mind.’

‘And you?’

‘Need you ask? It seems ages since I saw you last.’

‘All of three months,’ he said.

‘Well, it seems longer than that. I’ve been bored. Everyone seems to be getting into uniform.’ She turned to look at him as they reached the car. ‘You look very dashing in yours. I bet you are driving all the WAAFs wild.’

Laughing, he settled himself in the passenger seat. ‘If you are fishing for reassurance that I wouldn’t give any of them a second glance, then you have it.’

‘I believe you, thousands wouldn’t.’ She started the car up, did a competent three-point turn and set off for the hall.

‘Gillie is home on leave,’ she said. ‘Please don’t ask him about Dunkirk, not in front of Mama, anyway.’

‘I won’t. I know how awful it was. From the air we could see all those troops on the beach, completely exposed and long lines of them stretching into the sea. We were trying to harass the enemy, to help our chaps get away, but we couldn’t do much except go after the airfields and shipping. It was a miracle they got so many off.’

‘So Gillie said. He was in a dreadful state when he came home and worried Mama to death. He seems all right again now, though maybe that’s put on for our benefit.’

She turned in at the gates of the hall and drove slowly up the drive to the front door and stopped. ‘Here we are.’

Dinner was served in the dining room on a table properly laid with a pristine napery and the second-best cutlery and dinner service. Marcus and Gilbert were in dinner jackets but Tim was in uniform, for which he apologised. ‘I didn’t have a dinner jacket on the base,’ he said. ‘There doesn’t seem much call for it.’

‘It doesn’t matter in the least,’ Prue said, sitting beside him. ‘Does it, Mama?’

‘No, of course not,’ her mother said. ‘We are glad you were able to join us. It is wartime after all and the fare is very simple.’

‘It looks delicious,’ he said, as a maid served onion soup.

‘Cook grumbles that it is no better than the farm hands have to eat,’ the Countess went on. ‘But there is was a war on and
rationing affects everyone. We are lucky that we have home-grown produce, vegetables from the kitchen garden and plums from the orchard. Even the chicken is one from the home farm which had ceased to lay.’

The soup was followed by roast chicken and then plum crumble. While they ate, they spoke of generalities, but the conduct of the war inevitably came to the fore. The newspaper report of the latest air raids, while admitting there had been much damage to property, played down the loss of life. According to them, the attacks were failing because of the numbers of enemy aeroplanes shot down and because they had not succeeded in bringing the docks and factories to a standstill. Schools, churches and hospitals had been hit, but the general mood of the people was defiance.

‘I wonder how true that is,’ Prue said.

‘I imagine it has been somewhat edited,’ Tim said. ‘The authorities would not want to spread fear and panic. The real facts will be kept from the general public.’

‘I don’t see how you can keep people in the dark,’ Gillie said. ‘I came through London on my way home and it was pretty grim. There’s bomb damage everywhere, great craters and ruined buildings, but everyone is trying to carry on as normal. I think that’s what the newspapers mean.’

‘It seems to me that this war is making liars of us all,’ Chloe said. ‘We must not say this, we must not say that, we must not be told the truth. We are not children who have to be protected from unpleasantness.’

‘I don’t think it’s that,’ her husband said. ‘We don’t want Hitler to know what we’re up to.’

‘No, nor even your wives,’ she said with some asperity.

‘What have you been up to, Tim?’ Gilbert asked in the embarrassed silence that followed. ‘Operational yet?’

‘Yes, have been since the spring. Our main task at the moment is trying to prevent an invasion. We’ve been targeting German shipping and the Channel ports, anything to stop them moving troops by sea.’

‘There, I told you,’ Gilbert said to his mother. ‘There won’t be an invasion while we’ve got chaps like Tim to prevent it.’

‘That doesn’t mean the threat isn’t very real,’ the Earl said. ‘We still need the Home Guard.’

‘Oh, you and your Home Guard,’ the Countess said.

He was saved having to reply by the sound of the telephone in the hall. They heard the butler answer it. After a moment Hedges came into the room. ‘My lord, there is a telephone call for you. It is Mr Welchman. I told him you were at dinner and he asked if you would ring him back when you have a moment. I have written his number on the pad.’

‘What the devil does he want?’ Marcus said.

‘We have finished our meal, so go and find out,’ Chloe said. ‘I’ll have coffee sent to the drawing room.’

‘Coffee?’ queried Gilbert, as his father disappeared. ‘Have you still got coffee, Mama?’

‘I stocked up last year, but unless I can find a new supply we shall soon run out. We’ll have to drink that dreadful Camp. God knows what that’s made of, but it’s not coffee beans. Let’s go into the drawing room so that Margaret can clear away.’

On the way, they passed the Earl, apparently listening intently to his caller. ‘Can’t you tell me anything about it?’ they heard him say before going out of earshot.

He followed them a few minutes later and accepted a cup of black coffee from his wife. ‘What was that all about?’ she asked him.

‘I don’t know. It’s all very hush-hush. He wants me to take Prue to see him.’

‘Me?’ she queried in astonishment. ‘Whatever for?’

‘He might have a job for you. He wouldn’t tell me what it was except that it is important for the war effort. If you are interested we have to go up to London tomorrow.’

‘What sort of job?’

‘I haven’t the faintest idea.’

‘All these secrets,’ Chloe said. ‘I hate secrets and I hate it when you won’t tell me.’

‘I can’t tell you because I don’t know myself.’

‘Well, I hope it’s not dangerous.’

They smiled at this. Everyone was in some measure of danger, whatever they did. You didn’t have to be in the forces or even in London; in Longfordham with an airfield being built on their doorstep they were also vulnerable. ‘I was assured it was not,’ he said.

‘Why me?’ Prue asked.

‘I don’t know that either, but he mentioned being given your name by Edward Travis.’

‘Who is Edward Travis?’

‘Commander Edward Travis. I knew him years ago. He went into the navy. I haven’t seen him in years.’

‘The answer to your prayers, Sis,’ Gilbert said.

‘I don’t know what it is yet.’

‘What time will you have to leave?’ Tim asked.

‘We’ll go up on the nine o’clock train,’ the Earl told him. ‘But you don’t have to hurry away. Stay as long as you like.’

‘Thank you, but my parents are expecting me, so I’ll catch the eight o’clock to Cambridge. I can get a connection there.’ He reached for Prue’s hand and squeezed it. ‘But it was very good of you to have me.’

‘You are very welcome,’ the Countess said.

‘Let’s go and have a wander in the grounds,’ Prue said, standing up.

The clocks had gone forward two hours in March – they called it double summer time – because the extra daylight helped the farmers who were expected to grow most of the nation’s food. In September it was light until late in the evening and still warm, so they fetched jackets and left the house by a side door and wandered down the drive. She hung onto his arm and put her head on his shoulder. ‘I love this place,’ she said. ‘It’s so peaceful. You’d never know there’s a war on, except all the young, fit men are disappearing one by one.’

‘Let’s pray it always stays peaceful,’ he said. ‘Haven’t you any idea what you are wanted for?’

‘Not a clue.’

‘I hope it won’t mean living in London. I couldn’t bear to think of you being bombed. I need to feel you are safe.’

‘You are being very serious all of a sudden.’

‘War is a serious business. And my feelings for you are serious. You do know that, don’t you?’

‘I was beginning to wonder.’

‘What about you? May I hope?’

‘Of course you may hope.’

‘Oh, Prue.’ He looked back. They were out of sight of the house. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her soundly. ‘I don’t think it’s right to get married at the moment,’ he went on. ‘You never know …’

‘So this isn’t a proposal?’ She looked up at his face. He was watching her intently, scanning her face with his grey-green eyes and she knew she ought not to tease him.

‘Not exactly.’

‘How so, not exactly?’

‘I’m simply giving you due notice that if I survive this war, I shall ask you properly.’

‘Then I hope it doesn’t last too long.’ She reached up and pulled his head down to hers and kissed him hard on the mouth. ‘Let’s go back through the woods.’ She linked her arm in his and they left the path to plunge into the wood. The setting sun, shining through the trees onto leaves already turning colour, gave them a golden luminosity that was magical. She stooped to pick up a few chestnuts that had fallen and put them in her pocket. ‘It’s a pity we have no time to build a fire and roast them,’ she said. ‘But when you come again, that’s what we’ll do.’

‘I shall look forward to that.’ He grinned and stopped to kiss her. ‘And lots of other things besides. This is something on account.’ And he kissed her again. ‘We won’t have the chance to say goodbye properly tomorrow, so I’ll say cheerio now.’ This involved more kissing until she broke away. ‘Tim, you are making me all breathless.’

‘Don’t you like it?’

‘Need you ask.’ She reached up and pecked his cheek. ‘There, that will have to do until we meet again.’

‘Until we meet again,’ he repeated. ‘I’ll hold you to that.’

Arm-in-arm, they turned to go back to the house. She had been brought up to be poised and self-contained, to have a sort of feminine equivalent of the stiff upper lip, and she found it difficult to give her emotions free rein. But they were there, all the same, just below the surface. Perhaps one day she would learn to let go, but now was neither the time nor the place.

She saw Tim at breakfast, but there was no opportunity to do more than say goodbye and good luck, before he was taken off to the station by Stevens to catch his train. Gilbert took her and her father an hour later.

Arriving in London, they took a taxi to the address he had been given in St James’s Park. On the way they passed evidence of the bombing, gaps in the rows of buildings, big craters filled with water, boarded-up windows. ‘It’s horrible, isn’t it?’ she said. ‘All this destruction.’

‘Yes.’

‘What do you think Mr Welchman wants me for? Didn’t he give you any clues?’

‘None, but we’ll soon know.’

He paid off the taxi and they went into the building and were shown up to the fourth floor where they met the gentleman in question. He was not a tall man but he was, in Prue’s eyes, a handsome one with dark wavy hair and a neat moustache.