When Emily arrived to pick her up the following morning because it was raining heavily, Lizzie said, ‘Tomorrow, Emily, if it’s fine, I’ll walk to work. And –’ she smiled – ‘I won’t even wear a veil, though Mrs Bayes has kindly given me the pink hat I wore yesterday to use when I go somewhere amongst strangers who might stare.’
Emily blinked and then smiled. ‘So – the visit to Riversdale helped, did it?’
Lizzie nodded. ‘Enormously. They’ve not only made me realize that I needn’t hide myself away, but they’ve given me hope that something can be done to make it look – if not perfect – then a whole lot better.’ And she went on to tell Emily about Archie McIndoe, ending, ‘Constance has been so kind. She’s offered to help me in any way I need. Even financially.’
‘She’s a wonderful woman and I give thanks every day that she’s found happiness. No one deserves it more than she does.’
‘William – one of the airmen at Riversdale – said he would write to him. There were three of them there who’d been treated by Mr McIndoe, so they feel they know him. But Mrs Bayes has said she’s going to get in touch with him too. I’m no good at writing that sort of letter.’
Constance did everything she could. When she heard that the surgeon was willing to see Lizzie, she took her to East Grinstead and offered to pay whatever fee he charged.
The kindly surgeon smiled at Lizzie. ‘We’ll soon have that little blemish looking a whole lot better and you’ll have your pretty face back. Trust me.’
And, along with the members of the Guinea Pig Club – the airmen who had been so badly damaged in their burning aircraft – Lizzie did trust him implicitly.
Her trust was well founded. After two operations there was only slight scarring that Mr McIndoe told her she would be able to cover with cosmetics once the wound was fully healed. So, after a few weeks of recuperation, Lizzie returned to work in the shop alongside her mother-in-law full-time and, bravely, she now faced all the customers.
It took a long time for Lizzie to pluck up the courage to talk to Emily about the other matter, which she had discussed with Constance, but one evening in April when she knew Trip was out, she walked the short distance to Emily’s home and knocked on the door.
Emily smiled a welcome, but Lizzie was still hesitant. ‘If you’re busy, I can come back another time.’ She almost hoped Emily would say ‘Yes’.
‘No, no, come in. I’ll be glad of the company. If you don’t mind staying in the kitchen. I’m just doing a bit of baking, though I’m not much good at it. Not like your mam – or mine. You make us both a cup of tea while I finish making this vegetable pie.’
‘I thought Mam baked for you?’
‘She does. But I don’t want to forget how to cook and bake altogether. Besides, I quite like doing it now and again. I find it restful.’
When Emily’s pie was in the oven and they were both seated, Lizzie couldn’t put the moment off any longer. She took a deep breath. ‘I just wanted to tell you about seeing Josh again when I went to Riversdale.’ She paused and expected an outburst from Emily, but none came. She was silent, watching Lizzie’s face and waiting for her to explain.
‘I – I realized that I no longer think I’m in love with him, Emily. It was a girlish infatuation. I see that now. Do you remember that film that was all the rage not long after the war started? Everyone was talking about it.’
‘Oh, I remember. Gone with the Wind, you mean?’
Lizzie nodded. ‘Do you remember Scarlett’s passion for Ashley Wilkes and how it blinded her to the man she should have loved? Rhett?’
Emily nodded.
‘Well, that was me. I was infatuated with Josh and, if at the beginning he’d liked me too, then I think we might have ended up together, but he was always in love with Amy, wasn’t he? Just like Ashley Wilkes was always in love with Melanie.’
‘My word, you have remembered the story and the names,’ Emily laughed.
But Lizzie was very serious. ‘I didn’t get to see the film – I wish I had – but I was so intrigued by what the girls were saying at work – always quoting what Rhett Butler said as he left her at the end of the film – that I got the book and read it. In fact, I read it twice. Well, I’m luckier than Scarlett. The man I should love isn’t going to walk away from me like Rhett did at the end of the book. Billy does give a “damn” about me – a lot more than a “damn” – and now I know that I love him. Oh Emily, if only he comes home safely, I vow I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it to him.’
Emily covered Lizzie’s hand with her own. ‘He will, I’m sure of it. And I’m so glad you told me all this. Thank you, Lizzie. It can’t have been easy for you.’
As 1944 dawned, a feeling of optimism pervaded the country. It was as if something very exciting, though very hush-hush, was going to happen.
‘I think they’re preparing to get a foothold back in Europe,’ said Trip, who not only read all the newspapers avidly and listened to the wireless every night, but was also adept at ‘reading between the lines’. He seemed to have an uncanny feel for what was happening.
‘Mm,’ Emily said, her head bent over her mending, her mind not really concentrating on what Trip was saying.
He switched off the wireless, put down his paper and leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. ‘Come on, Emily Trippet. Out with it.’
She looked up, a pensive smile on her mouth. ‘Out with what?’
‘I know you too well, my darling. Something’s bothering you. Tell me what it is. Maybe I can help.’
She lay down her sewing on her lap and her voice trembled a little as she said, ‘Lewis will be eighteen in May. I know we persuaded him to stay on into the sixth form at school with the hope that he might go to university . . . we really thought the war would be over by now, didn’t we?’
‘We certainly hoped it would be, yes.’
‘If he does well and applies to go to university and is accepted, do you think his call up would be deferred?’
‘I really can’t say, but even if it was, I wouldn’t be surprised at him wanting to volunteer.’
Emily stared at him, then she sighed and said flatly, ‘I thought that too. What about Philip? He’s still working on the land, so he should be all right, shouldn’t he? I couldn’t bear it if Josh and Amy had another son to worry about.’
‘He’s worked on the land since he was fourteen, so, yes, I think he’ll be in a reserved occupation.’
‘Thank goodness for that. But what about Lewis?’
Trip’s face was solemn. That was a question he could not answer.
‘Hartley – Hartley, ah, there you are.’
The CO, Nigel Price, came in through the office doorway like a whirlwind. Michael Hartley stood up from putting another log on the fire in the outer office where he had his desk and did all the paperwork for the station’s CO.
‘Word’s just come through that Harry Ryan is alive. He’s a prisoner of war. I don’t know why on earth we haven’t heard before this, but never mind. I want you to write a letter to his family immediately. It isn’t often we can send such good news. Type it up and I will sign it.’
When Price had disappeared into his office, Michael, grim faced, inserted a sheet of paper and began to type. He wrote the bare minimum of words and, when he handed it across Price’s desk for signature, his superior said, ‘That’s a bit bald, Hartley. Show a little more enthusiasm for the fact that he’s survived. It’ll mean the world to his family.’
Tight-lipped, Hartley retyped the letter. ‘That’s better.’ Price smiled and signed it with a flourish. ‘See that it catches today’s post, will you? And now I must be on my way. A big meeting at Area HQ. I’ve no idea what time I’ll be back – probably not until tomorrow.’
As Hartley listened for the engine of the CO’s car to start up and move away from its parking bay beneath the office window, he smiled grimly to himself. He rose from his chair, crossed the room towards the fire that was burning brightly now and tossed the letter, which he had just written and which Price had signed, into the flames.
‘I’ll be damned if I let them know he’s safe,’ he muttered. ‘Let them suffer.’
Lewis was called up in the summer of 1944, when the country was in a state of high excitement after the victories of the D-Day landings. In a combined effort of American and British forces, troops had landed on the beaches of Normandy and had begun to drive the enemy back. But the celebrations were tempered by the V-1 flying bombs being unleashed on London and the South of England.
‘Those poor folks. As if they haven’t been through enough at the start of the war. And where else will they send them – the bombs, I mean?’
‘I think their range might only reach to the south,’ Trip said, scouring the paper for news. But a shroud of secrecy surrounded the new weapons and the newspapers were not allowed to reveal the exact locations where the bombs had fallen.
‘They are saying that anti-aircraft guns are virtually useless against them, and the RAF are trying to find new methods of interception.’
‘I expect Harry would have been—’ Emily began and then stopped as thoughts of her nephew threatened to choke her.
‘I know, love,’ Trip said solemnly.
‘And where is Lewis? I know he’s still training, but will he be sent down there or – or across the Channel? I’m glad he went into the army and not the RAF, but he could still be in danger, couldn’t he?’
Trip nodded and folded his newspaper. ‘I see they’re evacuating children from London again with these wretched doodlebugs, as they’re being called.’
Emily sighed. ‘I’d offer to have some of them here, but Sheffield might not be much safer.’
‘Tell you what. Let’s go to the pictures tonight. Get our mind off things.’
Emily pulled a face then smiled. ‘All right. It’ll be fine – until the newsreels come on!’
Although the Allies were back on French soil, there was still a long way to go. The Russians advanced on Poland and by August, the French regained Paris. But the bitter fighting continued and whilst the Nazis were being driven back, there was still fierce resistance and it wasn’t until March the following year that the Allies finally crossed the Rhine and only at the end of April, when Mussolini was shot and Hitler committed suicide, that people could really begin to believe that the war might soon be over.
‘But there’ll be someone to take his place, won’t there?’ Emily asked worriedly.
‘I expect so, but with him gone, maybe they’ll come to their senses,’ Trip said. He was far more optimistic now. With the many allied victories, he could see the Third Reich crumbling and the picture of the Russians and Americans meeting up in Berlin seemed to herald the end.
‘There’s one good thing,’ Emily said, her mind, as always, on those close to her, ‘Lewis is still in this country. Maybe it’ll all be over before he has to go abroad.’
And though she didn’t voice it aloud, her thoughts, as they always did, turned to her brother and the rest of the family in Ashford. Perhaps, once it was all over, they might find out what had happened to Harry. At least it would be a comfort to know.
Soon, Emily hoped, the war would be over and they could all begin to rebuild their lives. There had been more bombing raids, but none so severe as the Sheffield Blitz, as it came to be known, of December 1940. That industry had not been more severely damaged was a miracle to all those who lived and worked in the city.