Sam was tempted to retire without speaking to his parents but he couldn’t leave them thinking he was to blame.
‘Mum, Dad, we need to talk about this.’
Mum dropped a teaspoon on the quarry tiles and the tinkle was loud in the silence. Dad was the first to recover.
‘You shouldn’t have heard that, son, we don’t really blame you. My dad was a timebomb waiting to explode and God help us, it might have been so much worse. Now we know what’s what and can deal with it.’
‘What about you, Mum? Do you agree with Dad?’
She wiped her eyes on the corner of her pinny and hurried across to embrace him. ‘Of course I do, love. We’re just shocked, that’s all. You have to admit, you being here started things off…’
‘That’s enough, Alice, Sam being here’s the best thing that’s happened for years. Neither of us knew how bad things were with my dad, and Nan was slowly starving to death until Sam thought to feed her.’
His parents never argued and them doing so was down to him. He’d always thought his mum was biased towards him, but he’d obviously got that wrong. Like a lot of things lately.
‘Look, my being here has stirred things up. You’ll be better off without me causing problems and making extra work. I’ll find somewhere else to recuperate. There are places for us soldiers, I’ll make enquiries tomorrow.’
He waited hopefully for one or other of them to disagree, to ask him to stay, but they didn’t. Sadly, he hopped off to Nan’s room and closed the door quietly behind him. He couldn’t leave until he’d heard from Ruth, and it would almost certainly take a day or two to organise his transfer to a convalescent home.
Dispirited, he flopped onto the armchair and closed his eyes. He was jerked from his sombre thoughts when the door flew open and both his parents burst in.
‘We’re ever so sorry, love, we shouldn’t have let you go off thinking we don’t want you here,’ Mum said, her eyes red. He hated that she’d been crying again.
Dad bundled in behind her and looked equally upset. ‘We want you to stay, of course we do, son. It’s been a difficult day, but none of it’s your doing. We should have acted years ago, then things wouldn’t have got so bad.’
‘Thanks for telling me. I still think that I’ll not stay for more than another week. I promise I’ll not leave it so long to visit. I’m stationed on a base near Lincoln, bit of a trek, but I could be moved a bit closer, you never know.’
‘You do as you think’s right, son, this is your home, same as it is ours,’ Dad said. ‘Your ration book’s going to be chasing you all over the shop if you don’t wait for it to come.’
Sam was surprised that his dad even knew about the missing ration book. ‘Good point, Dad, I’ll definitely stay until I’ve heard from Ruth and I’ve got my ration book.’
They said their goodnights and left him to remove his one boot, his outer garments and then drop onto the vacant bed and pull over the candlewick bedspread and eiderdown. His mind was made up – he wasn’t going to be here when his grandfather returned.
The next morning, an official-looking brown envelope dropped onto the mat just as he was making his way to the kitchen. He was getting better at balancing with his crutches and leaned down easily to pick it up. The letter was addressed to him.
‘Was that the post, love?’
‘Yes, Mum, it was – I think it’s my ration book.’
She appeared in the door. ‘I expect they’d already sent it and your letters crossed. Your dad’s already busy in the workshop and Ada’s two lads turned up ever so early and were very keen to work.’
‘With any luck, Dad can show them what they have to do and leave them to it whilst he goes off to do his paying jobs.’ Sam took his usual seat at the table. ‘Do you mind if I open this before I have my porridge?’
‘You go ahead, love, porridge will keep.’
Sam carefully opened the envelope and pulled out the contents. His ration book was in the envelope and he smiled and didn’t immediately read the letter that accompanied it. ‘Here you are, you were right, Mum. Don’t hand it in as I won’t be here that long, but you can use my coupons until I go.’
She took it from his hand and then nodded at the other papers. ‘What’s all that then? Seems a lot of official-looking writing just to send you a ration book.’
Sam frowned. She was right. He picked up the papers and his eyes widened. The letters danced in front of his eyes and it took him a few minutes to understand what he was seeing.
These were his discharge papers. With growing incredulity, he read the letter. He was now considered unfit for duty and was being medically discharged with a pension.
‘What’s wrong, love? You’ve gone white as a sheet.’
‘I’ve been chucked out of the army, Mum, they say I’m no longer able to do my job, which is absolute bollocks…’
‘Sam! Don’t use language like that in my house.’
‘I’m sorry, but I’m upset and angry and don’t understand. I’ve got a cracked ankle, I’ve not had my leg amputated. There’s something else going on here.’
He had a horrible suspicion this something was connected to that Arthur bloke, that one of his influential friends was involved. He slumped against the table, dropped his head in his hands, and closed his eyes.
What the hell was he going to do now? He didn’t want to stay here and couldn’t go to an army convalescent home. The pension was just enough to scrape by on and he had a few pounds in his post office book. Money wasn’t the problem – being thrown on the scrapheap, being considered useless by the army, was.
Slowly his head cleared and he began to see a way forward. ‘Don’t look so worried, Mum, I’m all right now. It was just a bit of a shock. As soon as I’m out of this plaster, I’ll re-enlist – I’m not keen on the sea, so I’ll try the boys in blue.’
‘Oh, love, don’t do that. You’ve got a trade, you’ve done your bit, when you’re better you can help your dad. After all, the business will be yours and your brother’s eventually anyway.’
He was going to tell her that wasn’t an option, that as long as his grandfather was alive he couldn’t live here or work with his dad, but thought there’d been enough shocks for one day.
‘I’m not rushing into anything, I’ll just make a few enquiries. I don’t have the education to be a pilot. As far as I know, it’s only public-school and grammar-school boys but maybe they aren’t so fussy now.’
‘There’s two families I know that have lost sons in the RAF. Mary Forrester has lost both her boys.’
‘And I’m sure there were more families that lost sons and fathers at Dunkirk, Mum. Folk die in a war and a lot of them are civilians.’
Sam finished his breakfast and wanted time to himself. The sitting room was vacant but he thought he’d venture outside. He was a dab hand with his crutches and thought he could make his way through the neighbourhood without falling on his face.
He was pleasantly surprised that so many of his neighbours were pleased to see him – of course the boys he’d gone to school with were away fighting – but there were plenty of others ready to spend five minutes chatting about how his leg came to be in plaster.
By late morning, his leg ached and he was more than ready to return home. As he paused to open the front gate, he heard running footsteps and somebody calling his name.
He turned so fast he lost his balance and was about to fall into the hedge.
* * *
Ruth just managed to grab Sam’s arm and keep him upright. ‘I didn’t mean to scare you to death, my love, but I can’t tell you how pleased I am to see you.’
His smile was blinding. He reached out a tentative hand as if he couldn’t quite believe she was real. ‘I’ve had the most bloody awful news but now I don’t care. You’re here, we can work it out together.’
She stepped into his waiting arms and they kissed. They were both breathless and pink-cheeked when they finally drew apart.
‘I’m sorry to arrive unannounced. I can find a B & B somewhere if there’s no room here.’
‘You’re not going anywhere. I’m not letting you out of my sight. I’ve got so much to tell you but first there’s something I’ve got to give you.’
He leaned against the gate and removed a small leather box from an inside pocket. ‘This belonged to my grandmother on my mum’s side. It was her dying wish that it be given to me for my fiancée.’
He flipped the lid back and she stared, scarcely able to believe what she was looking at. ‘This is beautiful, but it’s far too valuable for me to wear even around my neck on a chain.’ She held out her hand. ‘I’ll wear it when we’re together, but will you keep it safe for me when we’re not?’
He slipped it over her knuckle and it fitted perfectly as if made for her. ‘I love it and I love you. Don’t you want to know what I’m doing here?’
‘I do, but I’ve got other news that can’t wait. There’s a bench in the churchyard just up the road where we can sit and talk. I don’t want to introduce you until we’ve talked as we won’t get a word in edgeways once my mum sees you.’
‘Would it be all right if I dumped my kitbag behind the hedge? Seems silly to keep carrying it if I don’t have to.’
His answer was to pick it up and throw it over one-handed. She laughed and so did he.
* * *
They sat on the bench and she told him how she came to be in St Albans and why she wasn’t still being trained to be an officer in Leicester. Then he told her about what had happened with his grandparents. This was bad enough, but the devastating news he’d just received was even worse.
‘This is something to do with the two people you’ve upset recently. It could be linked to the traffic accident but I think it’s more likely to be to do with Arthur.’
‘The more I think about it, the surer I am that this is his revenge.’ He took her hands and looked at her seriously. Her stomach clenched. Whatever he was about to tell her wasn’t good news and she thought she’d had enough of the bad already.
‘I’m going to see if I can be aircrew. If I can’t be a pilot then I could be a navigator, bomb aimer or rear gunner.’
She couldn’t hide her horror. ‘Please don’t, we both know how many aircrew are being killed every day. People need builders as much as they need pilots. You could be an air-raid warden, a firefighter, join the observation corps, there are plenty of ways you can do your bit for the war effort without joining the RAF.’
‘I’ll think about it, but it’s not as simple as you think. After what’s happened, there’s no way I’m going to work with my dad whilst my grandfather’s alive.’
‘Then come to London with me. You’ll find plenty of work there of one sort or another. It’s just occurred to me that maybe you could join the police force? Does that appeal to you?’
He looked thoughtful. ‘I don’t fancy being a regular bobby, the sort that marches the streets, but I think I’d make a good detective.’
‘Then that’s settled. I’ll stay here tonight and then we can go to London together. Do you have to return your uniform?’
‘It didn’t say anything about that in the letter, but I’m not entitled to wear it so it’s no use to me. God knows if I’ve got any civilian clothes in the wardrobe at home that still fit me.’
‘I don’t care about your clothes, there’s bound to be something you can wear, or something your mother can alter to fit.’
‘Sod the clothes, I want to ask you a question. I haven’t quite made up my mind what I’m going to do next, love, but if I decide not to re-enlist, would you consider getting married immediately?’
‘No, but if you promise me now that you won’t join the RAF then I’ll absolutely marry you as soon as we can get a licence.’
He leaned across and lifted her easily so she was snuggled on his lap – highly unsuitable but she didn’t care. ‘Then it’s no contest. Being your husband trumps being a Brylcreem boy any day of the week.’
‘I don’t have any family but I do have several really good friends. I’d like them to be at the wedding. What about your family?’
‘I’d like them to be there, but my brother and sister are unlikely to get the leave. I’m not sure that my parents would come to anything but a church wedding. I’m assuming that we’re talking about doing it at a registry office?’
‘I don’t want a white dress and all that nonsense. I’ll be married in my uniform. Don’t you think we’d better tell your parents that I’m here and that we’re getting married in London in a few weeks?’
He grinned, kissed her again, and then she scrambled off his lap. ‘It’s all very well talking about getting married but maybe you won’t get the time off.’
‘I think if I’m married I’m allowed to live off site when I’m not on active duty. I don’t suppose things will be any different at Regent’s Park. Also, don’t forget we get thirty-six hours every ten days and an evening off as well. I’m sure we can fit our wedding plans into my schedule.’
He could move smoothly on his crutches and although they couldn’t hold hands, she walked close beside him. She was so lucky to have met this wonderful man and even luckier that she would soon be Mrs Johnson, have a legitimate name, and could finally move on from her unfortunate birth.
‘I love you so much, my darling, and I’m going to be the best wife I possibly can.’
He pulled her close, remaining balanced whilst he did so. He looked down at her, his smile told her everything she needed to know. ‘I love you more, Sergeant Ruth Cox, and whatever happens next, we’ll face it together.’