Millie liked Ted but she wasn’t ready to have a boyfriend and all that might involve. What if she fell in love with him and then he was killed? No, better to keep him as a friend and avoid possible heartbreak.
‘It’s not a date, Ted, I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t your official driver today. I’d much prefer to be just friends and not complicate things.’ She hardly dared to look at him in case he was upset, but her refusal hadn’t bothered him.
‘That’s fine. You can’t blame a chap for asking. Having the prettiest girl on the base as my girlfriend would do no end of good to my kudos.’
‘If you wait another few weeks, there’ll be loads of women at Manston and all of us will be living there as well. I’m quite sure you’ll have the pick of the bunch.’
‘Are you suggesting that I’m the most eligible officer there?’
‘I wasn’t thinking about your eligibility, Ted, but the fact that you’re the first to shoot down an enemy and then manage to return when mortally wounded. Until somebody else does something equally heroic, you’ll be the one all the girls want to be seen with.’
‘Actually, I’m not the first, but certainly the most recent.’
They heard air-raid sirens go off in the distance but there seemed little point in stopping as there was probably nowhere any safer than the road they were on.
‘Pull over, Millie, please and I’ll have a quick deco just to make sure it’s safe to continue. We’d be an easy target if a German fighter did get through.’
She was about to tell him that she’d check, but he was out of the car as if there was nothing wrong with his shoulder, so maybe she was worrying unnecessarily. He was back almost immediately and grinned across at her.
‘False alarm, Millie, so let’s continue to Dover. I shouldn’t go into the town itself, it’ll be too busy – there’s a crossroads at the top of St Margaret’s Bay where you can look down over the cliffs and see everything that’s going on in the Channel.’
There were several other vehicles doing the same thing and they were all military of some sort. She parked and they walked to the edge. The sea was calm but, instead of being empty, it was full of small ships moving in all directions.
‘Isn’t the Channel full of mines?’
He nodded. ‘It is, but you’ll notice there are dozens of small, fast Royal Navy vessels moving in and out of them, keeping them safe. They must be going to Dunkirk to attempt to rescue the BEF soldiers trapped on the beaches.’
‘What’s the date today? We should remember it, as I think this is going to be a day nobody forgets.’
‘I think it’s the twenty-seventh – I’ve rather lost track of time since my accident.’ He flinched as fighters flew overhead, heading for the beaches.
Millie touched his arm gently. ‘You look a bit poorly, Ted, I think coming out was a bit much for you. Let’s postpone our lunch for another time and I’ll take you home.’
He didn’t argue, as his head was spinning slightly and his legs no longer seemed to belong to him. She put her arm around his waist and together they managed to get him safely into the front seat of the Hillman.
She lifted his feet in for him and slammed the door shut.
Ted must have either passed out or fallen asleep because when he opened his eyes they were pulling up outside an enormous house – a stately home – the biggest he’d ever seen.
‘How do you feel? Do you think I have to take you back to hospital?’
‘I’m sorry I gave you a scare. Stupid of me to want to go out for a jaunt when I was told by the medic to go straight to bed when I got here. I feel okay now – but you didn’t tell me you were billeted in a palace.’
‘Goodwill House is centuries old and has been in the Harcourt family ever since it was built. Joanna, Lady Harcourt, told me it was called something else originally, but the family changed the name when Oliver Cromwell became Lord Protector. The family were secret royalists but, in order to keep their land and possessions, they pretended to be puritans.’
Ted pushed open the door and got out, relieved his legs were working correctly now. ‘It would be a really handsome place if it wasn’t for that Victorian monstrosity on the right. I’m surprised the current Lord Harcourt hasn’t knocked it down.’
‘It’s unoccupied and separated from the main parts of the house by a couple of blankets nailed to the ceiling and walls.’ She pointed to the left-hand side. ‘That’s where we’re billeted – it’s incredibly ancient, loads of beams and things, but it has indoor plumbing. Your accommodation is in the main part of the house – where Joanna and her mother-in-law live – that way you won’t be bothered by eager young ladies.’
‘Leave my kitbag where it is – I’ll get it when I’m feeling better.’
‘Nonsense, Joe can manage it. You’ll need your belongings. Do you feel strong enough to make your way inside?’
He nodded. ‘It looks as if someone’s coming – would this be the Joe you mentioned?’ A youth, probably about fourteen or fifteen, was heading towards the car, a lolloping grey puppy at his feet.
‘Lady Harcourt sent me round to bring your things in, sir. I’m to stay and help you in any way you might want.’ The boy grinned. ‘Help you to the privy and that, I reckon she meant.’
Ted liked this young man. ‘Thank you, your offer is much appreciated but I’m pretty sure I can manage to get to the WC without your help.’
The boy pulled the kitbag out and tossed it over his shoulder and Ted was impressed as the bag was damned heavy.
‘Follow me, then, sir, I’ll take you up. I reckon Miss Millie has important things to do what with her being promoted and all that.’
‘I’ll head back to Manston, Ted, if that’s all right with you. I know Sarge wanted some parts picked up from RAF Hawkinge and I said I’d collect them sometime today.’
‘Be careful – Hawkinge’s where everything’s being coordinated for the evacuation.’
‘I’ll be fine. Go to bed and I’ll see you tomorrow sometime.’
He followed Joe up the marble steps, under the portico and into a vast hall. It was going to take him a week to find his way about a house this size.
A lovely woman with bright blonde hair and a charming smile approached him. ‘Welcome to Goodwill House, Flying Officer Thorrington. I’m Joanna, Lady Harcourt. I hope your stay here will be pleasant.’
‘Thank you for allowing me to come, my lady. Forgive me, I’m not as fit as I thought I was and need to lie down for a bit.’
‘Of course you do, you were critically ill a few days ago. I don’t expect you to come down again today – Joe will act as your orderly until you’re back on your feet.’
It took a supreme effort of will to ascend the staircase he was taken to, situated somewhere at the back of the house. He clung onto the banister like a drowning man to a lifebelt and just made it to the bed.
‘You sit there, sir, I’ll get you sorted. You’re a blooming hero and it’s an honour to take care of you. I’m going to be a fighter pilot like what you are when I’m old enough to volunteer.’
Ted raised and lowered his arms when instructed and no longer cared that he was being undressed by this boy. As soon as his head touched the pillow, a welcome blackness overtook him.
Millie regretted the waste of fuel, but she’d had no option but to bring Ted back. She really shouldn’t have agreed to take him anywhere, despite the fact that she’d been his designated driver for the day.
She showed her credentials to the guard at Hawkinge and was waved through. ‘You’ll want the stores. It’s the big building the other side of the base.’
She was halfway there when she was waved down by a corporal. She wound down the window and waited politely to be told what he wanted her to do.
‘Can you spare us a couple of hours, LACW 342? Bit of a flap on and we need extra hands.’
‘Of course, Corp, I’m actually more or less off duty so can stay as long as you want.’
He pointed to MT yard. ‘Park the car in there. Pity you’re not in overalls but I expect you’ll manage.’ He opened the passenger door and jumped in.
There was no further explanation as to what exactly she was going to be doing. She parked neatly against the wall as she’d been taught and jumped out.
‘Hey, Sarge, found another driver for you.’
The sergeant beamed and gestured towards a lorry similar to the ones she’d been driving every day. ‘Just in time, young lady. Get yourself inside and follow the other two – they’re about to leave.’
Very mysterious – but one didn’t argue when given a direct order. Millie hitched up her skirt and scrambled into the cab. There wasn’t time to do the usual checks as the two lorries she was to follow were already moving.
They drove a few miles down a narrow country lane – so narrow the trees brushed the roof of her vehicle and there was the clatter of branches banging against the sides. Where on earth were they going?
The first truck in the small convoy turned left onto a farm track. A few minutes later, all three vehicles were parked outside an enormous Dutch barn half-full of hay. There were a couple of farm labourers waiting with pitchforks.
For some reason, they’d been sent to fetch horse fodder, but she was quite happy to do her bit despite the fact that forking hay wasn’t ideal when dressed the way she was. An hour later, the back of her lorry was full and the barn was empty.
There was a great deal of gear crashing and no doubt a lot of rude words said – although not by her – before the three lorries managed to extricate themselves from the yard and get back onto the lane. On their return to the base, they were directed to a cluster of empty huts.
There were a group of lowly airmen waiting to unload, so Millie didn’t have to help this time. She still didn’t know what was going on and was determined to find out before she left.
After returning the lorry, she retrieved her car and set out for the stores. She was thirsty, hot and dirty and hoped to find a NAAFI van or canteen before she left.
The WAAF behind the counter had the boxes of spares waiting and was happy to help load them onto the back seat.
‘Do you know why I’ve been transporting hay to those huts?’
‘I do – it’s for the poor buggers saved from the Dunkirk beaches. They’ll spend the night here, get something to eat and then be taken to the station when there’s room for them. Doesn’t seem right putting them on hay instead of mattresses, but I don’t expect they’ll mind – they’ll just be happy to be alive.’
The girl had been obliged to shout, as the noise of aircraft landing and taking off made normal speech impossible even inside the stores. Knowing that the brave soldiers would only have a hangar for protection and hay to sleep on was a sobering thought. Families of those trapped on the beaches must be frantic with worry. Millie hoped Lord Harcourt would return safely too.
She signed the necessary papers. ‘Is there a NAAFI on the base? I really need something to eat and drink before I drive back to Manston.’
‘There is. It’s where we all go – food’s much better there than in our mess.’ She pointed to the far side of the base, where Millie could see a collection of buildings. ‘It’s at the back of those – you can’t miss it. You can park ever so easily right in front.’
Joanna was about to join her mother-in-law in the drawing room when the telephone jangled noisily. Liza was busy elsewhere, so she picked it up herself. She listened to the agitated person on the other end of the line.
‘I’ll get things organised at once. What an absolutely appalling situation – the WVS will do what they can to help.’
There were very few telephones in the village but the post office had one. She got connected. ‘Mrs Trenchard, I need your help.’ The postmistress, a widow of long standing, was a practical lady and would do what was necessary to round up the members. She replaced the receiver and immediately rang Mrs Thomas.
‘I’ll get our ladies mobilised. We could use the butcher’s van to transport what we’ve got. I’m sure Mr Endean will be happy to help in the circumstances. There’s the Ramsgate bus arriving in an hour – we ladies can travel in that.’
‘Thank you, Mrs Thomas, today we’re going to prove how invaluable our services are to the war effort.’ She turned to find she wasn’t alone in the hall.
‘Is there anything I can do to help? Something catastrophic is obviously going on,’ her mother-in-law said.
‘They’ve started a massive evacuation of troops from the beaches of Dunkirk. Men will start arriving at Ramsgate very soon and we’ve been asked to provide them with hot food and drink and find somewhere for them to rest until sufficient transport has been laid on for them.’
There was no need for either of them to mention David – they just had to pray that he would be one of the lucky ones and manage to escape the carnage that was obviously taking place in France.
‘Why don’t you get the girls who are off duty to help you?’
‘That’s a really good idea. I’ll do that now.’
Joanna knocked on the door of the room the girls used for a sitting room, but no one invited her in. There were at least three girls in there. She raised her hand to knock more forcefully when it swung open.
‘Lady Harcourt, is there something wrong?’ It was Phyllis, one of the older, less amiable women residing here.
‘Yes, I need the three of you to come with me immediately and assist the WVS and WI in welcoming the rescued soldiers who will be arriving in Ramsgate imminently.’ She half-expected the woman to shake her head and close the door in her face. She got a totally unexpected reaction.
‘My word, of course we’ll help. We’ll be doing something really useful, not like the mundane office work Pamela and I are doing now.’
Joanna couldn’t remember the name of the third young woman, as she was quite unremarkable. ‘Thank you, we’re taking the gig and the bicycles. If a couple of you could come with me now to the attics, I’m pretty sure there are quite a lot of useful items lurking up there.’
Less than half an hour after the telephone call, the three girls were on the bicycles, while Betty, Liza and herself – along with an enormous pile of miscellaneous blankets and rugs – were being driven at a spanking pace in the gig. Joe was handling the reins like the expert he was, she was so engrossed in what was happening, she didn’t have time to be nervous.
The bus had just pulled in and was already half-full of villagers eager to help – not just members of the WI or WVS but a random collection of others, old and young, male and female. Everybody was clutching something they thought would be of use.
‘Joe, I know you’d like to come too, but I need you to keep an eye on Lady Harcourt for me. If you’d be kind enough to make her a sandwich and a cup of tea at lunchtime, that would be splendid.’
‘Be happy to, my lady, she is a grand old bird once you get to know her.’
Hardly a respectful thing to say, but Joanna was warmed by the thought that her difficult relative was finally finding herself a place in the household.
When they arrived at the beach, the first of the men were coming ashore. The larger navy vessels were obviously unable to dock, so local fishermen and those who owned pleasure boats were unloading the men and bringing them in.
The Ramsgate branches of the WI and WVS had already set up trestle tables upon which tea urns were bubbling. Piles of sandwiches, buns and cake were waiting to be handed out.
‘Where do you want us?’ Joanna asked the woman in charge.
‘Over there, my lady, where the other trestles are. Excellent, I see you’ve brought blankets and rugs. The soldiers will be wet and cold and these will be much appreciated. They’ll come to us first for tea and food and then come across to you for blankets and so on.’
The men were going to be using mugs and these would need to be recovered, re-washed and reused for the next arrivals. The food was being offered without plates, so that wouldn’t be a problem.
People from all over Ramsgate arrived at intervals to replace the blankets, food and drink as it was being consumed and taken by the dispirited and exhausted soldiers who staggered past all day. Some of them managed a smile, a thank you, but most of them barely had the energy to accept what was offered and stumble into the waiting lorries that would take them somewhere to rest until more trains could be laid on.
‘There’s a bus waiting to take us back, my lady, I think we’ve done our bit for today. We can come again tomorrow,’ Phyllis said.
‘You’re right, we’ve been here for hours. Those poor men, what they must have suffered.’
Phyllis had been rushing backwards and forwards collecting empty mugs, taking them to the washing-up station set up close by, and then returning them to be recycled again and again.
Joanna turned to call her ladies in but realised she was the only one from Stodham still working. She’d scanned every face in the hope it might be David – or somebody from the village – but despite there having been hundreds of soldiers going past her table, she’d not recognised any of them.
There was little conversation on the bus – everyone was too exhausted and too overwhelmed by what they’d seen to chatter as they’d done on the way down. All day, there’d been the constant sound of heavy artillery from across the Channel, the screaming of aircraft overhead as they flew to intercept the Luftwaffe attacking the men stranded at Dunkirk, but she’d tried to ignore it.
The thought of what those terrified soldiers had been enduring these past few days didn’t bear thinking about – she also didn’t want to dwell on what might be happening to her husband and the husbands and sons of those she knew in the village.