Joanna held her breath until the processional party moved past the front pew where they were sitting. The choir divided and took their places on either side of the aisle and she got her first view of their new vicar – the Reverend Cedric Evans.
Her eyes widened. The man facing the congregation was very tall, balding, wore horn-rimmed spectacles and must be at least twenty years older than his pretty young wife. Even Elizabeth was sitting up and taking an interest.
There was a ripple of hushed chatter spreading around the church and she was certain everybody else was as surprised as she was by the new vicar. Why had Jennifer Evans married him? Then he smiled and cleared his throat.
‘Good morning, everybody. I apologise sincerely for my tardy arrival in your lovely village. I’m delighted to be here at last and hope that I’ll get to know you all very soon. You’ll be relieved to know that my sermon is never longer than fifteen minutes and that my wife will be holding Sunday school in the church hall whilst I conduct the service.’
Now he had all the parents’ attention. The previous incumbent had insisted that children attended morning service, were silent throughout, and returned for Sunday school in the afternoon.
The vicar continued – he had a pleasant speaking voice and, despite his rather unappealing appearance, Joanna was warming to him. ‘If the children old enough to attend would like to join Mrs Evans, who is waiting at the vestry door, that would be absolutely splendid. The little ones now have an area at the rear of the church with a box of toys and books. They are free to wander back and forth throughout the service and, of course, any mother who wishes to accompany her little one can do so.’
There was a general kerfuffle whilst children and mothers, delighted with this extraordinary suggestion, reorganised themselves.
‘Shall I go to the back, my lady, and help out with the tots?’ Liza asked eagerly.
‘That’s so kind of you, my dear, if you’re sure – it will be appreciated by the vicar and the mothers.’
The organ had continued to wheeze and play an almost recognisable tune during the hiatus. The atmosphere in the church, which had been sombre, was now more relaxed. It was always stressful for those with small children to keep them quiet and well-behaved during a service that could sometimes go on for almost two hours.
He kept his word and his sermon today wasn’t on any religious tract. He mentioned each person who had lost their lives at Dunkirk by name, mentioned their families and offered his deepest condolences. He then went on to talk about the sacrifice these men had made for their King and country, how strong everyone must be over the next few months and possibly years, and how everybody should support each other in their hour of need.
The Sunday school contingent returned at the end of the service, before the last hymn and the final blessing, and stood at the front, holding hands, and obviously much happier than they would have been if they’d had to sit in the church for over an hour.
The vicar was outside to shake hands and thank everybody for attending but gave no more attention to Joanna and Elizabeth than he did to anybody else. Joe had slipped out when the children had come in and the gig was ready to leave as soon as its passenger was safely inside.
On the walk home, Liza was full of praise for the new arrangements. ‘He’s not much to look at, and ever so old compared to Mrs Evans, but I reckon he’s a really nice bloke. Fancy allowing the little ones to play at the back of the church – that made things a lot better for the mums.’
‘It certainly did. Like you, I was a bit taken aback when I saw him but think he will make an excellent replacement. He’s a vast improvement on the last one. No doubt there will be some in the village who disapprove of having toys available during a service, but I believe it’s inspired.’
They moved to the grass verge as the gig rattled past and then continued their conversation. Having Liza to speak to, as well as Elizabeth, was making it so much easier for Joanna to be without her beloved daughter.
‘I didn’t see nothing but smiling faces, even the old folk seemed happy enough. I liked hearing all the names of their men who died – very respectful. Will this new bloke be doing the memorial service?’
‘I hope so – I was impressed that he’d taken the time and trouble to learn all the names of the bereaved families and of the men who died.’
They stepped aside at the sound of a motorbike approaching from behind them. However, instead of sailing past, it stopped.
‘Excuse me, I’m looking for Goodwill House. Am I heading in the right direction?’ The young RAF officer astride the bike smiled hopefully.
‘I’m Lady Harcourt, and as I live there, I’m exactly the right person to give you directions. It’s half a mile ahead, on the left.’
‘I’m Flight Lieutenant Freddie Hanover.’ He pulled off his gauntlet and offered his hand, which she took. ‘I’m going to see Di, with your permission, my lady.’
‘Flight Lieutenant, you don’t need my permission to speak to anybody living under my roof. As far as I know, Di is at home, but whether she’s feeling up to visitors I’ve no idea.’
His smile was charming – he was yet another very attractive young man. Were there no plain, unprepossessing officers at Manston?
‘She’s expecting me, my lady.’ He nodded, smiled and roared off down the road, leaving a cloud of black smoke and a strong smell of petrol behind him.
‘Blimey, I hope Star don’t take exception to that bike when it goes past.’
‘I should have warned him to slow down.’
Thank goodness she had sensible shoes on. Liza had raced off and Joanna ran flat out behind her for the first time since she’d played hockey at school.
Ted had to drive past Goodwill House on his way back and automatically slowed down as he approached the drive. Even though Millie wasn’t there at the moment, he wanted to get a glimpse of the magnificent house.
He was a hundred yards from the entrance when Freddie approached from the opposite direction on his bike. He looked sideways and saw that the gig had just turned into the drive. Then, to his horror, Freddie skidded into a left-hand turn and went the same way.
He put his foot down and followed the bike, praying that the horse wouldn’t bolt and the carriage didn’t overturn. Millie had told him that the older Lady Harcourt travelled to church in the gig. If she was thrown out, it was unlikely she would survive.
Freddie came around the corner too fast to be able to brake without going over the handlebars but he swerved violently to the left and vanished through the trees. His disappearance was followed by the sound of timber breaking and then an ominous silence.
The horse reared up, stuck its nose out and took off at a gallop. Joe had been taken unawares and let the reins slip through his fingers as he tumbled backwards on the seat. Lady Harcourt was still in situ and hanging on for grim death.
Should he see if Freddie was seriously hurt or try to stop the bolting horse? His instincts made the decision for him and he drove the car into the field of potatoes that now bordered the drive and prayed it didn’t get stuck.
He put his foot down and the car responded better than he’d hoped. It lurched and jumped through the unfortunate vegetables and, as he was taking a straight route and the drive swung round, he was able to get in front. He put the car across the end of the drive, switched off the engine and just had time to hurl himself out and race around to the passenger side.
The gig was approaching, the mare still out of control but, thank god, now cantering. He only had a split second to act. He leapt sideways and grabbed the flapping reins.
He was lifted off his feet but flung his weight backwards and dug his heels into the gravel. Joe had recovered his balance and was calling the mare’s name soothingly and the combination of calming words and the tug on the reins was enough to stop the animal.
Ted was covered in dust, his injured shoulder was agony, his shoes were ruined, his hands were raw, but the gig was stationary and the occupants relatively unharmed.
‘I say, young man, that was courageous. I believe you might have saved my life,’ the older Lady Harcourt said.
‘My pleasure, my lady. Please excuse me, I need to see if Freddie’s injured. He’s the idiot who caused the accident.’
Joe was now at the horse’s head, patting her sweating neck whilst checking she’d come to no harm.
‘Run along, Flying Officer Thorrington, we can manage from here. I do hope your car isn’t damaged by its excursion through the potato field.’ The old lady hopped nimbly down from the gig and waved him away.
Ted spat out a mouthful of dust, wiped his hand across his filthy face and grinned. ‘I think it might have come off better than the spuds, my lady.’
This entire incident had been over in minutes – but he felt as if he’d been running a marathon up a steep hill in leaden boots. As he turned to jog back to the skid marks in the grass where the motorbike had disappeared, the other Lady Harcourt and Liza raced towards him.
‘Disaster averted, my lady, but I need to check on Freddie, who’s somewhere in the meadow on your left.’
‘I’m unhurt, old bean, pity I can’t say the same for my trusty steed. It’s totally buggered,’ Freddie called from the bushes.
Ted was about to apologise for the bad language, but Lady Harcourt laughed. ‘As long as you’re not, Flight Lieutenant Hanover, then all is well. Both of you come to the house and get cleaned up and then Joe can help you push the car from the field.’
Freddie emerged, covered in twigs and dirt, several scratches on his face, his uniform in a worse state than Ted’s, but otherwise unscathed.
Lady Harcourt and Liza had hurried off to escort the older lady into the house and he walked more slowly alongside his squadron leader. ‘That was a close call, Freddie, you could have killed yourself but, more importantly, killed the older Lady Harcourt.’
‘Bloody good job I didn’t. Let’s get ourselves sorted out as we’ve got to be back at the base or we’ll be AWOL.’
When Ted eventually emerged from the downstairs cloakroom, more or less clean and tidy, it was to discover Freddie deep in conversation with Millie’s friend, Di. He smiled to himself. If his immediate superior was dating Di, then that would make things much easier for himself and Millie.
He paused at the drawing room doors. ‘Thank you for the use of your cloakroom, my ladies. I’m going to try to get the car out of the potatoes and back on the drive. We’re both due back on base in twenty minutes.’
‘Both Joe and Liza can help. If Joe gets behind the wheel and then the three of you push, you should be able to move it,’ the younger Lady Harcourt said.
‘Let’s hope so. Otherwise, we’ll have to run across the fields and climb over the fence – not something I’m inclined to do if possible.’
Freddie said his farewells to Di and they headed for the car. Joe was only too happy to hop inside and said he’d driven a tractor so thought he’d be all right steering a car.
‘I’m happy to push, sir, I reckon I’m as strong as me brother, anyway,’ Liza said. She now had on gum boots and some sort of all-enveloping apron.
Ted checked the handbrake was off and the car in gear and then nipped around to the passenger side. His left shoulder – the one that had been injured when he was shot up – was painful and he didn’t want Freddie to know. He wasn’t going to be grounded and that might well happen if the scar had torn or he’d damaged something internally when he’d been dragged along by the horse.
After a good deal of swearing and shoving, the car was back on the gravel. Now all he had to do was see if it still worked. Joe hopped out.
‘Thank you both for your able assistance. Would I be insulting you if I gave you each half a crown?’ Freddie dipped his hand into his trouser pocket and gave them both considerably more than that. The twins ran off, delighted with the exchange.
‘Least I could do, old boy. Now, see if it turns over. Is there a starting handle as it might need to be done manually?’
‘Haven’t the foggiest, Freddie. Keep everything crossed it’s not knackered.’
It wasn’t and they drove through the gates of Manston with five minutes to spare. Neither of them was on duty but Ted had only been given a couple of hours off base. He now intended to go in search of Millie, who was working until eight o’clock.
He wasn’t quite sure how she’d take the information that they were getting married at Manston on Friday.
Millie was busy until the end of her duty, conveying things from the stores to the hut. Two erks were assigned to her and if they didn’t mind being given orders by a woman then she wasn’t going to worry either.
As the girls had chosen where they wished to sleep, she was able to have the men put the three biscuits – hard mattress squares – and the necessary bedding in the correct places. It looked bare and uninviting but as soon as there were personal items around, photographs and posters on the walls, it would look more homely.
Next, she had to check that everything was in place in the recreation room and the kitchen. The two girls who were currently working in the Officers’ Mess would now be responsible for the catering for the WAAFs. Presumably more senior and better trained catering staff would arrive when the next contingent was in place.
The officers’ and senior NCOs’ accommodation was unfinished, as were the offices, sickbay and half the ablution block. At least there was hot water in the three showers and two baths that did work.
An hour before she finished for the day, she heard the rattle of a bicycle approaching at speed. She recognised that sound – it was Ted. She’d finished everything she had to do at the new billet and, therefore, could give herself permission to spend time with the man she was going to marry – if that could be arranged before he was transferred.
He appeared at the door of the block, saw her waiting and rushed in and, quite uncharacteristically, swept her from her feet before kissing her with more passion than was seemly when they were both on duty.
‘Friday, darling girl, we get married here this Friday. If you’re not sure and don’t want to go ahead with it, I’ll understand – it is all a bit of a rush.’
‘I do want to marry, Ted, but how did you get the padre to agree when we don’t have written permission from our parents?’
‘He just pointed out that if anybody made a complaint then the marriage would be invalid but thought we were both quite old enough to know our own minds so was happy to proceed.’
‘I don’t really know much about marital relations, but I do know that I’m really looking forward to finding out with you,’ said Millie. ‘My only worry is that I might get pregnant and I really don’t want a baby – not because I don’t love children – but because I’d have to leave the WAAF and goodness knows where I’d live or how I’d support myself and an infant.’
‘I’ve made discreet enquiries and there’s something I can use to prevent pregnancy. I’ve not yet acquired the necessary items but promise you I’ll have them by Friday.’ He reached out and stroked her face. ‘I’m not wealthy but do have a small private income. More than enough to support you and a baby if needed.’
She couldn’t prevent a nervous laugh. ‘Goodness, how are we going to… going to be able to spend the night together when we don’t have married accommodation or even know if we’ll be given any time off?’
‘I’ve spoken to the adjutant and, unless there’s a flap, I’ve got a twenty-four pass. You can give yourself one as well. There’s a decent hotel in Ramsgate – I rather thought we could spend the night there.’
‘Can we afford it? Wouldn’t we be better in a B&B or a guest house?’
‘No, we only get one night and I want it to be special. I’ve booked a room with a private bathroom and sea view. We’ll also have dinner and breakfast there.’
She leaned against him – they were perched on the edge of one of the baths – and his arm closed tighter. ‘Then that’s tickety-boo. I’d better get going as I’ve got to return the lorry to the motor pool and then we have to walk back tonight.’
When they were outside, where it was brighter, she noticed that there was mud on his trousers. He told her how he’d acquired it and soon she was laughing with him. ‘You seem determined to be the hero of Manston, Ted. Remember, you’ll soon have a wife and mustn’t take unnecessary risks any more.’