The Soldier's Daughter (35 page)

Briony didn’t much care. Sebastian was spending even more time away from home now and that suited her just fine.

It was a clear cold night as Mrs Brindley crossed the yard to check on Lois. The air raids had had them scuttling to the safety of the shelter more nights than she cared to remember recently, although there wasn’t the same urgency about getting in there now as there had been. Now Mrs Brindley would fill a Thermos flask with tea and make herself a hot-water bottle before she’d even think of leaving the house. ‘An’ if the buggers wanna bomb me afore I get there, then they can bloody well bomb me,’ she was often heard to say.

There were many nights when Lois didn’t join her as amazingly, she too had joined the WVS and often spent the nights when the area was raided in some church hall or another, helping those who had been injured or made homeless. Since receiving the news about Sarah, Lois seemed to be staying off the bottle more and more, a fact for which Martha Brindley was thankful. She was still gravely concerned about her friend though. There was barely any meat on her bones from what she could see of it. But then Mrs Brindley thought that was hardly surprising as she ate barely enough to keep a sparrow alive. To make matters worse, Lois had visited the doctor following the death of her father and he had prescribed sleeping tablets to help her sleep. Mrs Brindley didn’t approve of them at all. In fact, the way she saw it they were downright dangerous. Lois would pop them in like sweeties and Mrs Brindley had a fear of her overdosing on them. Now, after pushing Lois’s door open, she entered the kitchen to find her neighbour sitting at the table staring morosely at some photographs of James and the children. It was clear that she had been crying, and Mrs Brindley sighed. If the raids started again tonight she was going to have a rare old time of it trying to get Lois into the shelter.

‘Yer can put those away,’ she said with authority. ‘No use sittin’ blubbin’ over what was. We ’ave to get on wi’ things as best we can an’ thank the good Lord for what we still ’ave!’

’Sorry.’ Lois looked at her guiltily as Mrs Brindley shuffled the photos into a pile and shoved them into the sideboard drawer.

‘Now then – what ’ave you ’ad to eat today?’

When Lois lowered her head Mrs Brindley sighed again and moving towards the bread bin she said sternly, ‘I’m goin’ to make yer a sandwich. It’ll ’ave to be Spam but I ain’t leavin’ till you’ve eaten it. Do yer ’ear me?’ She scraped some margarine thinly on the bread, and unbidden her mind slipped back to a time when she had been able to dollop lashings of real butter on as thickly as she liked. It seemed an awfully long while ago now.

Lois grimaced when Martha placed the food in front of her, but she gamely tried to eat it. Mrs Brindley could be a tough old bird at times but for all that, Lois didn’t know how she would have got through the last terrible months without her. The loss of her beloved James was like a gnawing pain constantly eating away at her, and that added to the worry of how Sarah was and missing Briony and Alfie made it seem barely worthwhile getting out of bed most days. The tablets the doctor had given her had helped, however, although on a few occasions she had accidentally taken more than she should have and had slept the clock round. She didn’t mind. Sleep was her best friend now. When she was asleep, the pain and the constant worry went away and sometimes she just wished that she could sleep forever. She had only just finished forcing the food down her throat when the all too familiar sound of the air-raid siren roared into life.

‘Oh lawdy,’ Mrs Brindley grumbled. ‘’Ere we go again. You get yerself into the shelter and take some extra blankets, pet. It’s enough to cut yer in two out there. I’ll join yer just as soon as I’ve made us a flask an’ some hot-water bottles. We’re goin’ to need ’em tonight.’

Lois raised her chin and stared back at her defiantly. ‘Actually, I think I’ll get off up to the church hall in case there are any casualties, if it’s all the same to you, Martha.’

‘But it’s dangerous to be out walkin’ the streets when there’s a raid on, pet,’ the other woman blustered. She was secretly proud of what Lois was doing, but that didn’t stop her worrying about her all the same.

‘Well, someone has to do it,’ Lois shot back, and then her voice softening, she added. ‘I know you mean well but I’ll be fine. I don’t think about my own problems when I’m helping someone else. You go and get yourself into the shelter and I’ll see you in the morning. Goodnight.’

Mrs Brindley hovered uncertainly for a moment but then she shrugged and hurried across the yard. You could only help them that would help theirselves, an’ if Lois wanted to be difficult an’ take risks then that was up to her. On her own head be it; she could only do what she could do at the end o’ the day!

In The Heights at that time, Briony was staring critically into her bedroom mirror. Mrs Dower had persuaded her to go to a dance at the village hall with Howel and Talwyn. Social events had been a rare occurrence since the start of the war, but a band from Truro had been booked to play and almost all the young folk from the area were expected to turn out for it. It was a foregone conclusion that there would be far more young women there than men, as most of the boys had joined up. Even so, everyone was looking forward to it – especially Talwyn, who rarely got out to be with young people her own age.

Mrs Dower had altered one of Talwyn’s dresses to fit Briony especially for the occasion. It was a simple style in a deep blue colour, made of heavy cotton and with a sweetheart neckline, short sleeves and a soft flared skirt that swirled about her knees as she moved. Briony had put a wide black belt about her waist but wondered if she didn’t look somewhat overdressed. It had been so long since she’d had occasion to dress up that she felt a little strange. She had chosen to wear her black patent high heels with it and brushed her long black hair till it shone and had even applied a little make-up for the first time in months. Now she sighed. There was nothing else she could do so she might as well just go and make the best of it, even if she wasn’t in the mood.

Talwyn and Howel were downstairs waiting for her when she entered the kitchen and she flushed slightly as she saw Howel eye her up and down approvingly. He was looking very handsome in a dark suit and a crisp white shirt, and with his hair slicked to his head with Brylcreem she thought how different he looked.

Mrs Dower was fussing over the children and seeing Briony, she exclaimed, ‘Why, you look as pretty as a picture! Now get off with you and have a good time. And don’t worry about these two tinkers. They’ll be good as gold with me.’

Briony put her warm coat on and after giving Mabel and Alfie a quick kiss the three set off. The mist was rolling in from the sea and somewhere far out on the waves a ship’s foghorn sounded mournfully in the darkness.

Howel made Talwyn and Briony tuck their arms into his to prevent them from slipping, and in no time at all they arrived at Poldak village hall. As they entered, Briony saw the band tuning up on a small stage at the end of the room. A number of young people were already assembled there, and she saw one girl in particular glaring at Howel; she guessed instantly that this must be Megan, his former girlfriend. She was very pretty – fair-haired with big blue eyes – and Briony wondered why he had ended their relationship. Megan certainly looked nice enough. She took Talwyn to a small cloakroom where they hung up their coats and tidied their hair, and when they got back, Howel had found them a table and got them a drink. He had bought a pint of ale for himself from a small bar, and a shandy for her and Talwyn.

The blackout curtains were firmly in place across the windows and eventually the lights inside dimmed and the band began to play. A young woman who turned out to be the singer took centre stage and began to belt out ‘You Are My Sunshine’ – one of Briony’s particular favourites. Soon Briony was tapping her feet in time to the music and slowly she started to enjoy herself. The dance floor was already full, and when the singer began to croon ‘They Can’t Take That Away from Me’ Howel bowed and held his hand out. As they whirled past Megan, Briony saw the girl’s eyes follow Howel hungrily and she couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. Even so, she decided that it wouldn’t hurt to let her hair down for a change. The only thing that stopped it from being perfect was the fact that she was dancing with Howel and not Ernie – but she tried not to think of that.

Every so often, she dragged Talwyn onto the dance floor. She didn’t want the girl to feel left out and she was surprised at what a good dancer she was. Talwyn had a natural rhythm and grace and she was so pretty that every young man in the room watched her as she moved.

The time passed in a flash, and soon it was approaching the end of the evening. When Howel was about to drag her onto the dance floor again, Briony laughed and rubbed at her ankles, saying, ‘These damn shoes are killing me! Why not take Talwyn on for a dance? I need to nip to the ladies’.’ He obligingly did as he was told and Briony grinned as she noticed that his thick hair had now sprung out from his head again and he had taken his tie off.

When she came out of the lavatory and went to wash her hands, she found herself face to face with Megan, who was combing her hair in the small mirror above the basin.

The girl obligingly moved aside to allow Briony to rinse her hands before saying, ‘You must be Briony. Hello, I’m Megan Brown.’

‘It’s nice to meet you,’ Briony said politely, feeling slightly uncomfortable.

‘So how long have you and Howel been seeing each other then?’ the girl asked next.

Briony’s mouth gaped before she stuttered, ‘Oh . . . we’re not seeing each other. I mean, not in that way. Howel and I are just friends.’

Megan said sadly, ‘You might think of him as a friend, but I don’t think Howel thinks of you that way. I can’t remember a time when he looked at me as he looks at you now.’

‘Please . . . you’ve got it all wrong. I have a young man back at home,’ Briony spluttered then added hastily, ‘Well, he’s not back at home at the moment. He’s in the RAF.’

Megan stared at her for a moment, then shaking her head, she walked out of the cloakroom without another word. Briony felt confused. Whatever has given her that idea? she thought. Howel has never been anything other than a perfect gentleman to me. She went back to their table hoping that Megan had believed her.

The singer was having fun with the Andrews Sisters hit ‘Oh Johnny, Oh Johnny, Oh!’ Briony noticed that Megan had left and as she watched Howel twirling Talwyn around, she felt as if she was seeing him for the first time. He
was
very handsome, not in the classic style like Clark Gable, one of her favourites actors, but in a rugged sort of way. And he
was
undoubtedly kind and dependable. In fact, she wasn’t sure how she would have got through these last awful weeks without him. But she was in love with Ernie – wasn’t she? Admittedly, they hadn’t openly agreed to become a couple, but since his visit they both knew that once the war was over they would be. It was an unspoken agreement. She shook herself mentally and looked away. She had enough complications in her life without adding to them. So why, she wondered, did her eyes keep straying back to him?

Once Mrs Brindley had gone, Lois crossed to the sink and fetched out the bottle of cheap sherry she had hidden behind the packet of washing soda. The temptation to take a swig was great, but summoning every ounce of willpower she had, she resolutely poured it away. She would be no good to her children if she allowed herself to become a sot, and she wanted to be there for them when they came home. Her mind drifted back to happier times, and just for a few moments the pain inside subsided and she could pretend to herself that all was well with the world. Any minute now, James would walk through the door and he would take her to bed and she would snuggle into his warm firm body. But first she would peep in on the children and see them all tucked up snug and warm and fast asleep with not a care in the world . . . But then the sound of an explosion close by jerked her back to reality and she shuddered. Her mind was now torturing her with images of Sarah lying in an iron lung, an empty crippled shell of the pretty little girl she had once been, and James dying on the battlefield in thick cloying mud as he called out for her with his last breath. She pushed the images away as she raced towards the front door, snatching up her coat, gas mask and handbag on the way. Some poor sods had copped it already, if she was any judge, so no doubt they would need as many helping hands as they could get up at the church hall.

As she pelted along the road, the sky overhead became black with enemy planes, which blocked out the light of the ‘bomber’s moon’. And then suddenly there was a whistling sound and before Lois could take in what was happening she was tossed into the road like a rag doll. Stunned, and deafened by the blast, she lay there for a moment, but then lifting her head, she saw the front of a house at the side of her collapse as if it was nothing more than a pack of playing cards. Screams rent the air as a woman, covered from head to foot in thick dust, staggered from the wreckage clutching a small baby in a shawl tightly to her.

‘My little girl is still in there,’ she cried hoarsely as Lois struggled to her feet. She could hear people running up the hill behind her, but because she was the closest to the woman, she went to her. The fact that the poor shocked woman was close to hysteria didn’t make things any easier, and the baby, was wailing loudly.

‘My Sarah is still in there,’ the woman whimpered, waving a trembling finger towards the house.

Sarah!
Lois gulped, then throwing down her bag and her gas mask, she scrambled across the rubble towards the back of the house, which was leaning drunkenly, without even thinking about what she was doing. She soon found herself in what had clearly been the kitchen. By then, her hands and knees were scraped and bleeding, and lumps of plaster were falling all about her but she was oblivious to the pain – and then she spotted a little girl huddling beside an overturned chair. The child was covered in dust and she was clearly terrified.