Wish Me Luck (12 page)

‘Coo-ee, it’s only me,’ a voice shouted as the back door was thrown open and Ruth appeared like a whirlwind. ‘Why didn’t you wait for me—?’ she began as she stepped into the kitchen, but she stopped short as she saw the two young men. She’d met Robbie during the evening at the local pub, but her eyes widened as she spotted Kenny. Her mouth twitched with amusement as she said with mock severity, ‘Well, I can see why now. Wanted to keep this handsome pair to yourself, did you? I call that greedy, don’t you, Mrs Jackson?’ She stuck out her hand towards Kenny. ‘Hello. I’m Ruth. Fleur’s very
best
friend.’

Kenny scrambled up, the colour rising in his face. ‘H-hello. I’m Kenny. Fleur’s brother.’

Fleur watched with mixed feelings as her little brother – not so little now, she noticed with a pang, for he towered over Ruth – took the girl’s hand in his, his gaze fastened on her pretty face. Ruth smiled, the dimples in her round cheeks deepening. She took off her cap and shook her wayward curls. ‘Nice to meet you, Kenny.’

She let go of his hand and turned towards the table. ‘Any tea in the pot? I’m parched.’

Kenny sank back down into the chair, but his gaze never left Ruth as she busied herself freshening the pot and pouring herself a cup. She sat in a chair near the table, crossed her shapely legs and smiled round at everyone.

They sat chatting for several minutes until a knock came at the back door, which then opened. ‘You there, lass?’ came Harry’s voice. ‘I saw you come in. I’ve brought you the scythe round.’ He reared the implement against the wall and stepped into the house. ‘Oh, sorry. Didn’t realize you had company.’

The old rascal, Fleur thought. If he saw me come home then he must have seen the lads with me. He’s just come round to see what’s going on. Then, remembering how lonely the old boy must be, she introduced him to Robbie and her brother.

Harry nodded at them in turn. ‘How do?’

‘How d’you do?’ Robbie said, getting up. ‘You must be Mr Chambers. Fleur has told me about you.’

‘Call me ‘Arry, young feller. Everybody does.’

‘Well then, pleased to meet you, Harry.’

‘Well,’ Fleur gave an exaggerated sigh. ‘I’d best get me head down for a couple of hours and then into me gardening clothes. You’re a hard taskmaster, Harry, an’ no mistake.’

‘No, no, lass, if you’ve got company, I’ll take the scythe back again.’

‘It’s OK,’ Kenny said at once. ‘I’ll have a go while Fleur has a sleep. I’ll do all the grass under the fruit trees and bushes at the bottom of the garden. Have you got a sickle I could use as well, Mr Chambers?’

‘I have, lad, and I’ll fetch it round for ya, but only if you call me “Harry”.’

‘And I’ll be back this afternoon,’ Robbie promised. ‘And we’ll all do a spot of digging.’

Kenny, red to the roots of his hair, said, ‘You know I could bike over now and again and lend a hand, if you like, Sis.’ But she noticed that his eyes went to Ruth as he made the offer.

Struggling to keep a straight face, Fleur said, That’d be great.’

‘Well, young feller,’ Harry put in, ‘if you’re as handy with me scythe as your sister, you should get that grass cut by the end of the morning.’

‘You’re on, Harry.’ Kenny grinned.

That afternoon, Robbie returned. As he took off his jacket and hung it on a nail in the shed, he glanced down the garden to where Kenny was mowing the last patch of long grass, with Ruth sitting on the bench under the old apple tree, watching him.

‘You know,’ he said softly to Fleur, ‘I think your little brother is smitten with Ruth.’

‘Mmm, I noticed. But he’s not so little now, is he?’ she added wistfully and felt a shudder of apprehension at the thought that in the short space of a year her beloved Kenny would be old enough to enlist. ‘Come on,’ she said, determined not to let thoughts of the war spoil this sunny afternoon. ‘Let’s go and help.’

‘What do you want me to do?’

Fleur grinned at him. ‘How are you at digging?’

It was a happy afternoon. Robbie and Kenny tackled the digging – a tough job, for the ground was hard and the grass and weeds had taken a firm hold – whilst Fleur finished the last bit of scything.

Harry sat in the house, chatting to Mary Jackson in between making little forays into the garden to see how the work was progressing, whilst Ruth kept everyone supplied with tea.

‘The old dears have fallen asleep,’ Ruth said about the middle of the afternoon. ‘Harry’s snoring with his mouth wide open. But they look so sweet,’ she added fondly. ‘You’d think they were an old married couple instead of just neighbours.’

Kenny, his face red from exertion, took a breather leaning on his fork. ‘Thanks,’ he said, the colour on his face deepening as he took the mug of tea from Ruth.

Hands on her hips, Ruth surveyed their work. ‘Well, I feel like a spare part. But I wouldn’t know where to start.’

Fleur rested on the scythe for a moment. ‘You could rake this grass up if you like, but mind you don’t get near me.’

‘Huh! Not likely when you’re wielding that thing.’

‘Well, you’re doing a great job keeping us supplied with tea for today. It’s thirsty work.’

‘I’ll stick to that then. Mind you, I suppose I could do a bit of raking. Seems easy enough.’ She was about to move away to rummage in the conglomeration of Mrs Jackson’s shed to find a rake when she turned back and eyed Fleur suspiciously. ‘What did you mean “for today”? Sounds as if you’ve got something else lined up for me. I told you, I’m a city girl.’

‘I know – but how are you at housework?’

Ruth’s eyes lit up. ‘Oh, I’m a dab hand at that. I like everything spick and span.’

‘I know,’ Fleur said ruefully. ‘I’ve seen your bedroom.’ She was having a hard time keeping her own room as neat and tidy as her fellow WAAF’s.

‘We live in a council house back home,’ Ruth went on. ‘And me mum keeps it like a little palace.’ She frowned. ‘But Mrs Jackson’s cottage is spotless. I don’t see—’

‘I wasn’t thinking of here.’ She paused, leant towards Ruth and lowered her voice. ‘Have you seen Harry’s place?’

Ruth stared at her and shook her head. ‘Harry’s place?’ she repeated. ‘No, I’ve never been inside.’

Fleur laughed. ‘Well, take my word for it. It’s a tip.’

‘But – but he keeps his garden immaculate.’

Fleur nodded. ‘I know, but I reckon that was his domain and the house was his wife’s, and since she’s gone …’

‘Oh, I get you. Not much of a housewife, is he?’

‘That’s an understatement, love,’ Fleur said wryly.

‘But – but how can I offer to help? I mean, I don’t want to hurt the old boy’s feelings. He’s a pet.’

‘Go back into the house and say you feel a bit – well – a bit useless out here.’

‘Oh, thanks!’

‘You know what I mean. You’ve got to lay it on with a trowel.’

‘I told you – I’m no good with trowels.’

They laughed, sparring with each other, until Ruth nodded and said, ‘I’ll go in and ask Mrs Jackson if there’s anything she wants doing. I know she’ll say “no”’cos I’ve asked her before and there’s only so many times I can clean my bedroom from top to bottom. And then I’ll turn to Harry and ask him if he wants any ironing doing or the washing up. That’d be all right, d’you think?’

‘Perfect,’ Fleur grinned.

‘Right.’ Ruth took a deep breath. ‘Here we go, then.’

The grass forgotten, Ruth headed for the cottage and a few moments later she emerged, her arm linked through Harry’s. Behind his back she gave Fleur the ‘thumbs up’ sign and called, ‘Mrs Jackson’s taking over tea-making duties. Let her know when you want another.’

At the sound of her voice, Kenny looked up. ‘Where’s Ruth going?’

‘Just next door. Give Harry a bit of a hand. She’s not one for the outdoor life, it seems.’

‘Oh.’ His disappointment was clear to see. ‘Will she be back before I have to go?’

‘I expect so, but if not, you can nip next door and say ”cheerio”.’

The grin was back on his face as he attacked the solid ground with his fork. Unseen by Kenny, Robbie winked at Fleur just as Mrs Jackson appeared in the back doorway with a plate of scones in her hand to go with the tea Ruth had brought out.

As they stood leaning against the outer wall of the cottage, drinking tea and eating scones, Robbie declared, ‘D’you know, I’m a townie like Ruth, but I have to say I’m enjoying a bit of physical work.’

‘You’ll suffer for it tomorrow.’ Fleur grinned. ‘You’ll ache in muscles you didn’t know you’d got.’

Robbie pulled a face. ‘Quite likely, but it’ll be worth it. It’s good to get away from camp and to concentrate on something other than what we’ve got to do at night. And that reminds me.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘I’ll have to go in about half an hour. There’s a final briefing in an hour’s time and even though I’m pretty sure our crew’s not flying tonight, I’d better be on hand just in case.’

‘Yes, and I’ll have to report in too. Someone might have gone off sick and I’ll be needed to take their place. Ruth too.’

As she collected the cups and plates, Kenny said, ‘Look, you two go off – for a walk or summat. Have a bit of time to yourselves. I’ll carry on with the digging here. I can stay till you have to go, Sis.’ He glanced at the cottage next door.

‘Right you are, Kenny. Thanks.’ Deliberately casual, she said, ‘And don’t let me forget to give Ruth a shout. We’ll both need time to get back into our uniforms.’

Kenny grinned. ‘No, I won’t forget.’

‘I bet he won’t.’ Robbie laughed softly as they walked, hand in hand, out of the squeaking gate and a little way down the lane to where the houses stopped and the countryside began. They headed for a little copse at the edge of a field that would afford them a bit of privacy. Climbing over the gate, they headed for the shelter of the trees.

Robbie took her in his arms, but Fleur was stiff, afraid to respond. ‘Oh, Robbie,’ she whispered, tears filling her eyes. ‘Did we ought to?’

He sighed heavily and rested his cheek against her hair. His arms were still about her but comforting rather than desirous. ‘Darling, I’ll try to speak to Ma as soon as I can. I promise. Maybe I could wangle a day’s leave on compassionate grounds. I got a letter from her this morning and she says Pops has a very bad cold and it’s gone on his chest. She’s quite worried about him, I think.’

Fleur pulled a face. ‘I doubt you’ll manage it unless the weather gets bad and you can’t fly.’

So much taller than Fleur, Robbie kissed the top of her head. ‘Then we’ll just have to pray for snow.’

Fleur laughed, despite the worry clouding their time together. ‘What? In April?’

‘It’s been known. Pops reckons he remembers it snowing in the middle of May in nineteen hundred.’

‘Really?’

‘So he says.’

They stayed for the half-hour, just happy to be together, and yet they dared not kiss – it felt wrong until they knew for sure.

‘Oh I wish we knew. I wish we knew the truth,’ Fleur moaned as they walked back to Mrs Jackson’s cottage. Robbie squeezed her hand. ‘I’ll find out as soon as I can. I promise.’

The snow that they’d wished for didn’t arrive and there were operations on each of the following three nights. The watching and waiting didn’t get any easier and Fleur breathed a sigh of relief each time D-Doggo landed safely. On the fourth night, however, there was a weather report of bad visibility over the target area that cancelled the mission. All aircrews were stood down and Robbie went at once to see Tommy Laughton.

‘Skip, is it absolutely definite that we won’t be flying? Because, if it is, I could do to nip home for twenty-four hours.’

‘It’s definite, old boy, so it should be OK. Mind you fill in a two-nine-five.’ Tommy reminded him to submit the usual application form. ‘But can you be sure to be back by thirteen hundred tomorrow? If there’s flying tomorrow night, briefing’s likely to be at fourteen hundred.’

Robbie nodded. ‘I’ll hitch if the trains don’t fit up. Folks are very decent about picking up servicemen.’

Tommy stroked his bristly moustache thoughtfully. ‘Tell you what, nip along to MT. They might have a lorry going your way.’

‘Thanks, Skip. I will.’

When he went in search of Fleur, it was to find that she too had been given permission to go home for a brief visit because there was no flying that night. He squeezed her arm. ‘I’ve got a lift all the way to Nottingham. I’ll ask the driver if he can take you too.’

They parted in Newark.

‘Could you drop me outside Castle Station, please?’ Fleur asked. ‘I rang home and my father had to come into Newark anyway today so he said he can pick me up there.’

‘What if he sees me?’ Robbie asked worriedly.

The WAAF driver smiled knowingly, but made no comment as Fleur said cheerfully, ‘I don’t care if he does. You’ve got to meet each other some time.’

The lorry came to a halt and Fleur leant over and kissed Robbie’s cheek before climbing down. As the vehicle pulled away, she turned towards the station to see Jake standing beside his battered Ford. She caught her breath. He must have seen Robbie. When she got closer she was shocked by the look on her father’s face. Even though he was tanned by the outdoor life he led, the colour had drained from his face and his eyes were haunted. He looked as if he had just been dealt a devastating blow. The thought terrified Fleur. Had her father believed he was looking at his own son for the first time?