When Pips called for Harry on the Wednesday morning, Peggy greeted her outside the cottage.
‘Oh Miss Pips,’ she said, clasping her hand. There were tears in Peggy’s eyes, but they were tears of gratitude. ‘We don’t know how to thank you. We didn’t know how to deal with him – how to reach him. We’re all following your lead now and trying to be a bit firmer with him. It seems to be working.’
‘Peggy, dear, I took a bit of a risk, I know, talking to him so bluntly, but sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind, as they say. I’m just thankful it worked. Now, we’d better be off. Is he ready?’
‘Yes, I’ve packed his suitcase. When Betty brought the message from you yesterday that he could go, she said he might have to stay a while.’
Pips nodded. ‘Yes, they haven’t said how long. I expect at this stage they perhaps don’t know themselves.’
‘As long as he gets his leg and gets back on his feet, I don’t care how long it takes.’
It took two weeks for his leg to fitted and adjusted to be comfortable and for Harry to prove to them that he could do everything they required him to do before they let him come home, complete with new leg.
‘Oh Harry, you look normal,’ Peggy exclaimed, as he walked into the cottage wearing proper shoes and socks and his half-empty trouser leg no longer flapping.
Then swiftly, she added, ‘I’m sorry, that sounds awful.’
Harry chuckled. ‘It’s the best thing you could have said, Mam.’
By nightfall, the whole village, including everyone at the hall, knew Harry was home, complete with artificial leg.
‘He’s got a bit of a limp,’ Bess told everyone proudly, ‘but you wouldn’t guess he’d got a false leg if you didn’t know.’ But all Len Dawson said when he saw him was, ‘When are you coming back to work now all this stupidity is over? I could use an experienced pair of hands.’
‘I haven’t been officially demobbed yet. I’ve to report back next week and see what they say.’
Len grunted. ‘Well, don’t do anything damned silly like wanting to stay on in the RAF.’
By the third evening he was back home, Harry said, ‘Where’s Kitty? She hasn’t been to see me since I got back.’
Peggy avoided his gaze. ‘Oh – um – I expect she’s busy. There’s always a lot to do on the farm.’
Harry frowned. ‘But she’s not working in the evenings, surely. Why hasn’t she called in?’
‘I really couldn’t say,’ Peggy said off-handedly.
‘Then I’d better go and find out.’
He walked the short distance between where he lived and the Pages’ cottage, smiling and waving to anyone who saw him. Kitty opened the door and gasped to see him standing there on two feet and so smart in his RAF uniform. Her gaze swept him up and down.
‘Oh Harry, you look wonderful.’
‘So, why haven’t you been to see me?’
‘I – I didn’t know you’d come back.’
‘Yes, you did, Kitty. Everybody knows. And are you going to keep me standing on the doorstep? It’s still a bit painful to stand in one place for long.’
‘Sorry – yes – come in.’
He walked through their scullery and into the kitchen where her mother and father were sitting at the table finishing their evening meal.
‘Harry,’ Ted Page stood up and held out his hand, ‘it’s good to see you. Sit down. Mother – a cup of tea for the lad.’
Lottie Page bustled about the kitchen and after a few moments set a cup of tea and a buttered scone in front of him.
‘Thank you, Mrs Page,’ he said, but then he turned to Kitty and asked again, ‘So, why haven’t you been to see me?’
Kitty blushed and glanced down at her fingers twisting in her lap. ‘I – I thought – after I saw you last time and – and then once you were better, all the girls . . .’ She gulped and fell silent.
‘There’s still this.’ He touched the scar that still cut deeply into the side of his face, running jaggedly from temple to chin.
‘But you can have an operation to make that a lot better, can’t you? Your mother told me.’
‘Maybe I don’t want to,’ Harry laughed. ‘It’s my badge of honour. And it gives me a rather raffish look, don’t you think?’ He paused and then asked softly, ‘Does it make a difference to you, Kitty?’
‘You know it doesn’t.’
‘Perhaps we’d better leave these youngsters to it, Mother,’ Ted said, making as if to get up.
‘No need, Mr Page. What I have to say to Kitty can be said in front of you both.’ He grinned suddenly. ‘In fact, perhaps it ought to be.’ He turned back to Kitty. ‘Before the war, I was a bit of a flirt, I know that – just having a bit of fun, I suppose. And then the war came and I became a bomber pilot. I could have been killed at any time – an awful lot of my mates were – and it didn’t seem fair to get serious about anyone then, but now that I’ve survived – well, almost . . .’ He took her hand and gently put his fingers under her chin to make her look at him. ‘I’m ready to settle down. I’m ready to get married and have a family right here in Doddington and there’s no one else I’d rather do that with than you. So – forgive me if I don’t get down on one knee – but Kitty Page, will you marry me?’
Kitty blushed furiously and glanced at her mother and father, who both burst out laughing. ‘Go on, lass. For goodness’ sake tell him “yes” afore he changes his mind. It’s what you’ve allus wanted when all’s said and done.’
‘So, there’s going to be another wedding,’ Bess told anyone who was willing to listen. She counted them off on her fingers. ‘There’s Daisy and Johnny’s already being planned for when the war’s over, then there’ll be Luke and Gill, and now’ – she waited a moment, keeping her listeners in suspense before saying dramatically – ‘Harry and little Kitty have got engaged.’
‘And about time too,’ was the consensus in the village. ‘He’s kept that poor lass waiting long enough.’
It was arranged that as soon as he was released from the RAF, Harry would take up his work with Len Dawson again.
‘I don’t think I’ll be able to shoe horses, Mr Dawson, but I reckon I could tackle most other things.’
‘Aye, well, we can work round that,’ Len said and almost smiled. ‘The young evacuee lad, Bernard, he’s shaping up nicely and working here full time now he’s left school, though I expect he’ll be back off home soon. I’m surprised he hasn’t gone already, and I can’t see Luke coming back here. He’ll want to become a farmer in Yorkshire, I reckon.’
‘He’s saying nothing at the moment,’ Harry told Len. ‘Even we don’t know what his plans are.’
‘More fool him,’ was all Len would say.