The Soldier's Daughter (10 page)

Suddenly, what everyone had termed the ‘phoney war’ was well and truly over; it was now all too frighteningly real.

Ruth’s mother answered the door to Briony that evening, and holding aside the heavy blackout curtain, she ushered her inside with a warm smile. The nights were drawing out now but Mrs Teagles didn’t want to take the chance of a fine from the wardens if there was any light showing, so she had got into the habit of closing the curtains the instant she put the lamps on.

‘Hello, love,’ she said. ‘Our Ruth is upstairs in her room if you want to go up to her. She’s just washed her hair an’ I think she was plannin’ on havin’ an early night, but I’m sure she’ll be pleased to see yer.’

‘Thanks, Mrs Teagles.’ Briony climbed the steep narrow staircase and rapped on Ruth’s bedroom door, ‘Are you decent? Your mum told me to come up.’

‘Come in,’ Ruth invited, sounding genuinely pleased to see her. She was sitting at her dressing table rubbing her wet hair vigorously with a towel. Already it was springing into curls and she looked at Briony’s hair enviously. ‘I wish my hair was straight,’ she sighed. ‘If I don’t keep attacking mine with the brush and sugar and water before it properly dries, I end up with ringlets and look like Shirley Temple.’

‘Waves are fashionable,’ Briony commented, perching herself on the end of the bed. ‘It’s me that’s out of fashion.’

‘Huh, out of fashion or not I’d swap with you
any
day. But what brings you round here tonight? There’s nothing wrong at home, is there?’

‘Oh no. Far from it,’ Briony assured her quickly. ‘In fact, it’s just the opposite and I have some good news that I thought you’d want to hear.’

Ruth started to tug at her hair with a stiff wooden hairbrush. ‘Well, come on then – out with it,’ she said. ‘Don’t keep me in suspenders.’

Briony took a deep breath. ‘It’s Ernie. He was injured in the Battle of Dunkirk – his plane was shot down – so they’ve sent him home to recuperate until he’s well enough to join his base again.’

Ruth’s mouth dropped open. ‘How badly injured?’ The question came out on a breath.

‘He’s broken his leg and he’s lost a lot of weight. Other than that he’s going to be fine.’

‘Oh.’ Ruth sat there as a mixture of emotions flitted across her face. And then suddenly she was laughing and crying all at once as she grabbed Briony and hugged her tightly. ‘That’s
wonderful!
I don’t mean that it’s wonderful that he’s injured . . . I mean it’s wonderful that he’s home and alive. I don’t know what I would have done if anything had happened to him. I told him before he went away that I’d wait for him, you know, but he said it wouldn’t be fair because he didn’t know what was going to happen to him. But now that he’s back I’ll make him see that I don’t care. There’ll never be anyone else for me. I must see him.’

She was suddenly scooting about the room snatching up the first clothes that came to hand and throwing off her dressing gown, and Briony’s heart sank as she saw the look of pure joy on her friend’s face. Now more than ever she realised just how much Ernie meant to Ruth, and she knew that she could never spoil it for her.

‘I’m not so sure if you ought to go round there tonight,’ she said tentatively. ‘He’s only just found out that his father has been killed and he looked worn out. Perhaps it would be better if you went to see him tomorrow?’

‘What – and miss spending a precious minute with him?’ Ruth snorted as she pulled a pale-blue jumper over her head. ‘Not on your nelly! No, I’m going round there right now. I know he’ll be pleased to see me. I’ve got to make him realise how much I love him, Briony.’

Briony twisted her fingers together and chewed on her lips as Ruth finished getting dressed in an amazingly short time.

Ruth glanced in the mirror and grimaced. ‘What did I tell you – look! Ringlets! And they’ll be even worse if I go out with my hair damp, but I don’t care. Come on, let’s be off.’ She thrust her feet into a pair of shoes that she managed to drag from under the bed, then without a backward glance she raced towards the door, leaving Briony no option but to follow her.

They made the journey to Ernie’s house in record time and Briony wondered if Ruth even remembered that she was there, she was in such a dither.

‘Do I look all right?’ the girl asked nervously as they hovered outside Mrs Brindley’s back door. ‘And are you coming in with me?’

‘You look just fine and no, I’d better get in home and help Mum put the children to bed.’

‘Right you are then. See you tomorrow.’ And with that Ruth tapped on the door and disappeared inside, leaving Briony feeling as if the bottom had dropped out of her world.

‘So how was Ernie?’ Briony asked as they walked to work together the next morning.

‘He didn’t seem too bad,’ Ruth answered, disgruntled, ‘but I didn’t get a chance to talk to him on his own. His mam stayed in the room with us the
whole
time. She was fussing over him like a mother hen.’

‘I dare say that’s to be expected. After all, now that she’s lost her husband she’s bound to want to spend as much time with Ernie as she can before he has to go back,’ Briony said fairly.

‘I suppose so.’ Ruth kicked at a stone in her path but then brightened. After all, Ernie was going to be at home for some weeks yet whilst his leg healed, and his mother couldn’t be with him every second of the day, could she?

Surprisingly, Lois seemed to have returned to some sort of normality since Ernie had returned and was sober as a judge over the next few nights. Her daughter wondered if it was due to Ernie or the fact that alcohol was becoming hard to get hold of now. Everything was becoming scarcer and the shelves in Woolworths were half empty.

‘I’m fed up with customers’ havin’ a go at me ’cos we ain’t got what they want,’ Ruth grumbled one day. ‘Anyone would think that I was personally responsible for stocks bein’ low.’

‘Well, I suppose they have to have someone to vent their feelings on,’ Briony said stoically and Ruth grudgingly agreed.

Since Ernie had been home, Ruth had spent every night round at his house, and as yet Briony had not managed to have any time alone with him herself. But then she supposed it was no bad thing. Even with Ruth and Mrs Brindley in the room with them, she felt as if a current of electricity were running between them – and she sensed that Ernie felt it too. And then on the second Saturday after he had returned she went round early in the morning to find that his mother had gone off to do some shopping. Ernie was sitting by the open window staring out at the Anderson shelter and strumming his fingers impatiently on the windowsill with his leg propped up on a stool.

When she entered, his face lit up. ‘A lovely day, ain’t it?’ he said. ‘It’s just a pity I can’t get out and about. I’m going mad, stuck in here all the time.’ As he stared at her trim figure and her mane of black hair, his heart did a little flutter. Briony had always been a pretty girl, although he hadn’t taken much notice back then, but now she was turning into a beautiful young woman.

Surprised to find that Ruth wasn’t already there, Briony smiled pleasantly and said, ‘I dare say I could put a chair out in the yard for you and help you get out there if you fancy a bit of sun on your face?’

‘Huh! There ain’t much left to look at out there, is there, apart from that ugly bloody shelter,’ he grumped. Briony could understand his frustration. The last few months must have been a whirl of activity for him, so he would naturally resent having to be so confined and helpless.

‘That’s true, it is a bit of an eyesore,’ she agreed. ‘But with the way the war is going we might be glad of it in the not-too-distant future. It said on the wireless last night that Hitler is massing boats and landing crafts ready for invasion. Do you think it’s true?’

Ernie shrugged. ‘Who knows with that nutcase? The bloke wants to rule the world, but he won’t if it’s left to chaps like me! Thank God the factories in Coventry are working around the clock to make the planes. As long as we’ve got them we’ll give that kraut bastard a run for his money.’

Briony shivered involuntarily, only too aware that Ernie was speaking the truth. She glanced around then and asked, ‘So where is Ruth today? I thought she would have been here by now.’

‘Had to go shopping with her mum apparently, and between you and me it’s nice to have a break from her. I know she means well, but what with her and me mam I feel as if I’m being smothered. I reckon they’d cut me food up for me if I’d let ’em. At the end o’ the day it’s only me leg that’s broke, ain’t it? It’s not as if I’m helpless.’

Briony giggled. ‘Oh, how
awful
for you, being waited on hand and foot and having your every need pandered to,’ she teased.

Snatching the cushion from behind his back he threw it at her and as she caught it she laughed.

But then he became serious and asked quietly, ‘Did you give any more thought to what I asked you before I went away, Briony? About you bein’ my girl, I mean.’

She lowered her eyes as she replied. ‘Things have to stay as they are, Ernie, for more than one reason. For a start-off you know how Ruth feels about you, and she’s my best friend. She’d think I’d betrayed her if anything happened between you and me. And anyway, like I said before, there’s always the chance that I’ll get shipped off to Cornwall with the kids if things get any worse here, and then we may never see each other again.’

‘Don’t say that!’ His eyes were beseeching her but she was saved from having to say more when Mrs Brindley walked in and dropped her shopping bag on the table.

‘Hello, pet,’ she greeted her. ‘Ooh, my feet are killin’ me after trailin’ round the shops all mornin’. I did manage to get us a nice bit o’ brisket fer us Sunday lunch though, which is somethin’, I suppose. I was beginnin’ to forget what beef tasted like. Now I’ll go an’ put the kettle on, shall I? Oh, an’ by the way, your little Alfie is howlin’ his head off, bless him. He just slipped over an’ grazed his knees while he were playin’ wi’ his marbles in the street. I’ve sent him in fer yer mam to clean him up.’

‘I’d better get round there then. I don’t think Mum is even up yet,’ Briony said anxiously as she headed for the door.

When she’d gone, Mrs Brindley tutted. ‘That ruddy mother of hers is useless at times,’ she stated. ‘If it weren’t fer Briony, God alone knows what state them two little kids would be in. And Lois neglects herself too, these days. Before now I’ve hardly ever seen her wi’out her bein’ made up to the nines and wi’ not a hair out o’ place, but then I suppose it takes all sorts.’ And with that she set about putting the shopping away as Ernie watched.

The plaster cast was taken off Ernie’s leg early in July and the doctor told him that he could return to his RAF base the following week. Mrs Brindley accepted this news with mixed emotions; part of her was thankful that her son’s leg had healed but the other part of her was fearful at the thought of him flying again. Only the day before they had heard on the wireless that the Luftwaffe had launched their first large-scale attack on Britain, when seventy aircraft attacked the dock facilities at Swansea and the Royal Ordnance factory at Pembrey in Wales. Portsmouth, along with many other coastal shipping convoys and shipping centres, had also been the target of aerial attacks by the Luftwaffe. It was the largest and most sustained aerial bombing campaign to date and it was called the Battle of Britain.

‘It’ll only be a matter o’ time now till they target the aircraft factories and the RAF airfields, you just mark my words,’ Ernie forecast grimly.

Her mother shuddered. Now, more than at any other time, Ernie would be in the thick of the fighting, but there was not a single thing that she could do about it. Never in her whole life had she felt so helpless – and yet she also felt a sense of pride. Her lad was brave – there was no one could say differently.

On the morning that Ernie left, Ruth and Briony pinched a couple of hours off work and accompanied him to the station.

As they stood on the platform, none of them knew quite what to say, and it was a relief when the train chugged in.

‘Right, this is it then. You two take good care o’ yourselves now,’ Ernie said in a choked voice as he opened a carriage door. There were many other men aboard in uniform, no doubt returning from leave, like Ernie.

‘Don’t you get worrying about us. It’s you who’ll be in the line o’ fire,’ Ruth sobbed as she kissed him tenderly on the cheek. She would have liked to throw her arms about his neck and kiss him soundly on the lips but she sensed that he wouldn’t want that.

‘Oh, I’m like a cat, me,’ he told them with a cheeky grin. ‘I’ve got nine lives.’

‘Well, if that’s the case you only have eight left,’ Briony retorted. ‘So just be careful and don’t get taking any chances. We don’t want a dead hero.’

‘All aboard!’ The guard was striding along the platform slamming the carriage doors shut so Ernie threw his kitbag in front of him and hopped onto the train before leaning out of the window.

‘See you soon,’ he shouted above the noise of the engine. ‘And let’s hope that the next time I come home, it will be for good.’

The train began to move away in a cloud of steam and for a few moments Ruth and Briony ran alongside waving until they felt as if their arms were about to drop off. Ernie waved back – and then the train turned a bend in the track and he was lost to sight.

‘That’s it then. We might as well get back to work,’ Ruth muttered brokenly. Briony linked her arm through her friend’s and the two girls left the station in silence.

The first bombs had been dropped on Coventry in June, and as the Battle of Britain escalated the people of Nuneaton began to wonder when it would be their turn.

‘I’m gettin’ the shelter ready just in case,’ Mrs Brindley told Lois one fine morning in late July. Lois helped her to drag in a couple of worn fireside chairs that had been stored in the shed and Mrs Brindley also took in some tatty old blankets that she didn’t use any more, explaining, ‘It can still be nippy of a night an’ yer never know. Better to be prepared.’

Lois took in some cushions and candles and Mrs Brindley made sure that a large flask was always at hand at the side of the kettle. ‘I couldn’t go all night wi’out me cup o’ tea if the sirens should go off after dark,’ she said stoutly. Lois eyed the reasonably comfortable little sanctuary they had prepared and prayed fervently that they might never need it. Britain was teetering on the edge of defeat as the German army stormed its way across Europe and the Battle of Britain raged in the skies above them.