Flo
What a Difference a Day Makes
The wind wrapped Flo’s hair around her face, and the salty air tingled her tongue and cheeks. Simon held her hand as they walked along the crowded promenade.
A small hut came in sight, and alongside it a boat. As they neared it, they were assailed by the strong smell of fish.
Flo wrinkled her nose. ‘By, some poor souls must still risk their lives to fish.’
‘They’re not fish; they’re cockles and mussels and whelks. Southend is famous for them, and those who gather them don’t have to go out to sea, at least not far. It’s more wading in to gather them, though they may use their boats to make a large haul just off the coast. Shall we try some?’
They were near the stall now and Flo’s stomach turned at the thought of eating what she saw. ‘Naw, ta. They look like snails – ugh! I’d heave me heart out.’
‘Well, I’d love some. Come on, let’s go over.’
The crowds bumped into Flo as Simon pulled her along. Uniformed young men stationed at the local training camp wolf-whistled at her and called out remarks that made her laugh: ‘Going for some cockles, Miss? You can be my cockle any day,’ and similar harmless banter. Children squealed their delight at this and that, as they were pushed in prams, while older ones ran after seagulls. Sadly, most only had their mothers with them. The elderly walked with heads bent, their walking sticks tapping the pavement as they went. It all created an atmosphere of life carrying on, despite the rubble being cleared from the bombed-out chapel they’d passed, the piles of sandbags, and the rolls of barbed wire and warnings of mines along the beach. Such was the resilience of folk all over the British Isles, and Flo felt pride in her fellow countrymen.
These musings left her as Simon tried to force her to eat a slimy-looking thing that he’d stuck a wooden stick into. ‘Naw . . . Naw, give over.’
‘Please, Flo, close your eyes and just taste it. You don’t know what you’re missing.’
‘Eeh, don’t make me. Buy me some fried fish. I’d love that.’
Droplets of vinegar dripped down her chin as the steaming-hot fish Simon had bought her from another stall melted in her mouth. Flo thought she’d never tasted anything so delicious. ‘Let’s sit a mo, Simon. Me fish is sticking to the newspaper, and I can’t tackle it walking along at this pace.’
‘You look lovely, Flo. Your lips are all greasy, your cheeks flushed with the wind. It’s been a grand day, as you would say.’
‘It has. Ta ever so much for bringing me. I wish the day would go on forever.’
‘Me too, but we’d better make tracks when you’ve finished eating, or we won’t get back till after dark. I want to stop at a market garden on the way and try to get the rose bush you suggested for Lucinda . . . She’d have loved today. She liked coming to the seaside. We used to have picnics on the beach.’
Flo wiped her hands and face on her hanky, then took his hand. ‘Memories are a good thing, Simon. Let them in whenever you can.’
His smile didn’t touch his eyes, and she was reminded of his pain and her own.
With the light fading, the house had a forlorn look about it when they arrived home. Flo felt a similar feeling descend on her. How she wished Lucinda would fling open the door and greet them. She could hear, in Simon’s tone, that he was feeling the same. ‘I’ll lay the rose bush in the garden. We’ll attend to it tomorrow – there’s plenty of soil around the roots. Let’s get inside.’ Words that dealt with the practicalities, not the pain. It was how they carried on and got through each hurdle.
The sudden shadowy appearance of a man, from behind the bushes that grew just inside the iron railings of the garden, startled Flo out of her thoughts. She swallowed hard. The man stared back at them. In the fast-descending gloom, Flo could make out the towering height of him, but not much else. Simon stiffened, and his arm came across her in a protective gesture. His voice held authority as he challenged the man as to who he was and why he was in the garden.
‘Je m’appelle Aldric. I – I mean, I . . .’
‘You’re French! What is this – what’s going on?’
Flo’s heart pounded with the fear of her knowledge of the true nationality of the stranger. She felt sick as she listened to his soft, charming French accent.
‘I knew Lucinda. I came to pay my respects. I know you are her brother – she showed me pictures of you. Lucinda was my . . . We met at university.’
‘Oh, my dear chap, you were her friend? Come on in. Have you come far? Do you live in England?’
‘No, I came over from France. I won’t come in, thank you, I haven’t much time. I – I was given a short pass – a press pass. I’m a journalist.’
Flo knew the game was up. Faced with knowing Aldric’s true nationality and his deception in cleverly covering it up, she could no longer lie to Simon to protect Lucinda’s memory. Aldric was an enemy of her country. She had to stop him from roaming England freely under the guise of being a Frenchman. She had to reveal his German nationality.
Thinking quickly through the implications of her options, she decided to try and get Aldric inside the house. If she blurted her fears out here, then Aldric might make a run for it.
Her heart dropped at the disloyalty that she would have to show Lucinda.
‘Eeh, you two. I’m freezing me lugs off out here. Come inside for a mo, Aldric. We’ll not keep you long, as we know you’re in a hurry, but we can’t send you off without offering you sommat to drink to warm your insides.’
She walked towards him, effectively blocking Aldric from escaping through the gate. In the dim light Flo saw a look of fear cross his face. For a moment she thought she’d blown her chance. Did Lucinda tell Aldric about me, and how she’d confided in me? Me voice seemed to upset him, so maybe she joked about me accent?
It was a relief when Simon stopped any further protest from Aldric. ‘Yes, come inside. It would be insulting to Lucinda’s memory if we let you go without making you welcome.’
‘Thank you. I brought flowers. I was just placing them on the ground when you came.’
‘How kind. I wondered why you were crouching down when we arrived.’ Opening the door and bending to pick up some letters from the carpet, Simon asked Aldric, ‘Do you want to bring them inside? Before we leave in the morning I’ll pop them into the church down the road. She loved attending the services there. She sang in the choir.’
‘She had a lovely voice.’ There was a catch in Aldric’s voice. For a moment Flo felt sorry for him, but the feeling passed as she focused on what his real reason for being in London might be.
Simon’s easy manner had relaxed Aldric. Flo sought to capitalize on this. ‘Eeh, I’m glad you’re staying, even if it’s just for a little while. It’d be good to get to know one of Lucinda’s friends. She told us she had a great time at university, though she didn’t tell us the names of her friends. It’d be grand to hear of her antics. She often hinted that she had a whale of a time.’
‘Merci. I would like.’
Aldric’s smile told of his fear having left him. Flo smiled back.
Inside, she hung back, fixing the blackouts in the hall, so to allow Simon to direct Aldric through to the front room.
Looking up the stairs, to where Lucinda’s flat was, tore at Flo’s heart. Forgive me, Lucinda. I have to do this.
‘Come on, old thing, we men need a cup of tea . . .’ Crossing the hall towards her, Simon called back through to the front room as he hung up his own coat and Aldric’s, ‘That is, if you drink tea, Aldric?’
‘Normally café, but I did drink tea during my days at university and got quite used to it, so it will be fine.’
At a loss as to how to approach the subject of Aldric being German, without causing a problem that might get out of hand, Flo went through to the kitchen. The sound of the water hitting the bottom of the kettle resounded around her, and the gas ring lit with a greater burst of flame than usual. Her nerves were on edge. Aldric wouldn’t just surrender without a fight.
Once the noise level settled to the gentle hissing of drops of water from the side of the kettle hitting the flames, Flo felt better able to think.
There was a phone upstairs. She needed an excuse to go up there, then she could call the police. Walking at a normal pace and with her mind made up, she came to the door of the front room, which although still open didn’t give her sight of the two men. She could hear the sounds of Simon lighting the fire and of them chatting. Their conversation sounded normal, friendly and uninhibited. If only Simon knew!
‘I’ve got the kettle on. I’m just going to pop up to the flat upstairs. I need to fix the blackouts, in case the light from downstairs reflects up there.’
‘Oh, would you like to go upstairs, Aldric? You can see where Lucinda lived.’ Flo caught her breath at these words from Simon, but then released it as Aldric refused, saying it would be too painful just now.
As she turned back towards the stairs, a thought occurred to Flo. She crossed the hall and turned the key in the door. She knew this would hinder the police entering the house, but felt it better that Aldric didn’t have a means of escape. Once she came down, she would remove the key from the already-locked back door, which led from the kitchen.
After making sure all the blackouts were in place, Flo went into the bedroom, feeling grateful that Lucinda had had the telephone installed in there, rather than on the landing. She’d probably tried to avoid her conversations being heard downstairs, as she must have telephoned Aldric on many occasions. Oh, Lucinda. Lucinda . . .
Flo’s hand shook as she lifted the receiver. The ding it made had her standing stock-still. She listened for any sign that the men downstairs had heard it. Dialling zero, she waited for what seemed an eternity for the operator to answer. ‘Telephone exchange: what number, please?’
‘The police.’
Footsteps hurrying up the stairs had Flo reciting the address as fast as she could and saying, ‘Hurry’, before putting the receiver down.
‘Where are you, Flo? Are you all right? The kettle’s whistling away.’
Men! ‘Eeh, Simon, you’re not incapable. Why didn’t you switch it off or, better still, make a pot of tea with it?’
‘Sorry, did I scare you? I was worried that you were taking so long up here and might need some help.’
‘I do, but not for the reasons you think. Look, don’t ask questions – just act normal. I’ll explain later. I’ve rung for the police. Aldric is German, not French. He is a war correspondent. At least that’s his cover. I think he may be a spy.’
‘Good God!’
‘I know. Come on now, let’s go down.’
‘But . . .’
Flo hurried away from Simon, but, remembering her cardigan as she reached the top of the stairs, she turned and collided with him. Mouthing that she was sorry, she dashed back into the bedroom and grabbed a bright-blue cardigan that she’d left hanging over a chair and wrapped it around herself. Not the best colour to go with her ruby-red blouse and grey calf-length skirt, but it had to do.
‘He’s gone!’
‘Gone? Where? How? Eeh, Simon, the back door! I was going to take the key out when I came down.’
‘I’ll go after him; he can’t have got far, as there’s the high wall to scale. He must have heard us and taken off.’
Unable to speak, Flo held her hands clasped in front of her. Her heart pounded fear around her body, and her mouth dried. If Aldric’s a spy, he could have a weapon. Maybe many of them, hidden about his person.
A banging on the front door brought Flo to her senses. Letting the three policemen in, she told them why she had called them and what had happened since.
The sergeant turned to one of his men. ‘Get back to the ARP depot and get them all engaged in this; we need more manpower than we have.’ Turning back to Flo, he asked, ‘Can you give us a description of your friend, as well as the man you suspect could be a spy?’
Being as precise as she could, Flo told him Aldric’s height and what he was wearing, before giving a brief outline of the same details for Simon. The sergeant went into action once more, barking out orders. The three piercing blasts from the whistle that he blew sent shivers through Flo. Her worry intensified with the terrifying thought that, apart from setting his men to start putting his plan into action, he was giving a clear warning to Aldric that the police were onto him.
Before he left, the sergeant said, ‘We’ll get him, he has nowhere to hide.’
Nowhere to hide! Flo had been given a briefing on the capabilities of spies, during her training, and to her the whole area presented a labyrinth of hiding places, with all the ruins and the out-of-bounds, broken buildings.
Left alone and in a quandary of fear, she paced the floor. Prayers tumbled from her, asking God to keep Simon safe. She felt useless, for what could she do to help? But with no ideas presenting themselves, she decided that at least she could prepare something for them to eat and make up a flask for the eventuality of an air raid, something that was becoming routine.
As she made sandwiches, using the loaf they’d queued for before they left this morning, and cut thin slices from the ham bone that Mrs Leary had insisted she brought with her, Flo’s thoughts remained with Simon. She wouldn’t be able to bear it if anything happened to him.
The whistling kettle cut into Flo’s thoughts. Steam blurred her vision as she mixed the cocoa she had ready in a jug. The liquid pouring into the flask echoed around the room as if it were a waterfall, but once it was done and the cap screwed firmly in place, the silence that fell oppressed her and increased her feelings of trepidation. For a moment she considered going into the front room and putting the wireless on, but that seemed like a betrayal, as if she could just relax and not care that the man she loved could at this very moment be fighting for his life against a determined German spy!
Deciding to stay in the kitchen, she sat down at the table and placed her head in her hands. Prayers tumbled from her once more, until a noise outside made her sit up and listen. Simon?
Even though she was alert, the knock on the door made her jump.
‘It’s me, Flo. Let me in, old girl.’
‘Oh, Simon.’
There was a deep comfort in his arms. His body melted into hers, giving her the sensation of being held by a man who desired her. Her response was instant. She lifted her head. Simon’s lips came near to hers, and his breath wafted over her face. But in a sudden action he jerked his head away. She could sense the control he’d had to call upon. His eyes were fraught with a look that almost shouted his horror.
To cover the embarrassment and the strange feeling that had seized her, Flo took herself from his arms. ‘Eeh, I could kiss you, and nearly did. I’ve been scared out of me wits.’
‘And I nearly kissed you, Flo. I – I . . .’ His stance showed his discomfort. She could only look at him and wait as shyness held her in its grip. But what he said next lifted her heart. ‘It felt so right.’ On the verge of going back into his arms, she was stopped by Simon turning his head away. ‘I – I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Please forgive me, Flo.’
‘Naw, there’s no need for sorry. I – it’s fine. It were just a moment that caught us off-guard. Friends in a frightening situation, that’s all.’ Not feeling that she was finding the right words, Flo changed the subject. ‘Did they get him?’
‘Yes. Though one poor bloke, an ARP, was shot.’
‘Oh God! Is he—’
‘It hit him in the leg. Aldric was being held and was struggling, when his gun went off. They’ve taken the poor chap to hospital.’
‘And Aldric, what will happen to him?’
‘He’ll face interrogation, which doesn’t bear thinking about. But we – you – did the right thing, Flo. What I can’t understand is why? What was Lucinda doing, remaining friends with him? What was she thinking? And how did you know her friend was German and not French? I have so many questions.’
Shame washed over Flo at the secrets she held and the disloyalty she would now have to show towards Lucinda. ‘They will want to question me, won’t they? I – I kept a confidence. One that could have put our country in danger. Oh, Simon.’
‘Look, tell me all about it first. It may not be as bad as it sounds. You didn’t know he would come here, did you?’
‘No, of course not. I—’
The wail of the siren saved her.
‘Grab your coat, Flo. I’ll get blankets.’
‘I’ve everything ready in that bag on the chair: flask, cups and, as we haven’t eaten, some sandwiches.’
‘Good girl. That’s the spirit. It’s freezing out there. I’ll take them down to the shelter and then come back. I’ll take a flask of whisky as well, and we could do with filling a couple of hot-water bottles.’
‘Aye, I’ll see to that. I left the kettle simmering.’
Mundane things they both knew how to do automatically, but talking about them filled the gulf of awkwardness that had opened up again, with their fear.
Once they were settled in the Anderson shelter, wrapped in blankets and snuggled together, some of the fear left Flo. She would always feel safe when she was this close to Simon.
‘You know, Flo, it made me think of Roland, when that ARP was shot. I hadn’t considered the danger he could be in, but now I realize there are a hundred and one situations that could pose a risk to his life.’
‘Eeh, don’t worry – he’ll not be chasing German spies in Leeds. There’s nowt up there for them to spy on.’
‘Oh yes, there is. There’s munitions factories and the Blackburn Aircraft company. And factories producing uniforms. All prime sites for bombing, to hinder our war effort.’
Flo couldn’t speak. She hadn’t thought of the possibility of bombing raids there, and of her beloved Kathy and Mrs Leary being in any danger. Now she realized that no one was safe. As if to confirm this, the drone of hundreds of aircraft filled the space around them, quickly followed by the sound of gunfire and swooping planes. ‘The RAF are engaging, and it sounds as though it’s right above us. I’ll take a look.’
As Simon stood, the sound of an out-of-control engine whining its descent got him outside in seconds. Terror held Flo stock-still as the noise got louder and drowned out the rest of the activity above them.
‘It’s one of theirs. Well done, our boys! They—’
His words merged into a crashing explosion that rocked the earth beneath them. Debris hit the sides of the Anderson shelter. Flo held her head, screaming to Simon to come back inside, just as more explosions boomed out their terrifying destruction.
‘Christ, Flo, London’s on fire!’
Flo’s heart jolted with the deep fear that took her. She lowered her head and held her ears. This, then, was the way they were being paid back for the ceasefire over Christmas. Oh God, we’re all going to die.
Simon shouted something else, but Flo couldn’t hear what he was saying, for the deafening noise of planes diving, guns shooting and direct hits, added to the screaming sound of spiralling planes as they headed for the ground and erupted into flames. As he came back in, they clung together. The trembling of Simon’s body increased Flo’s fear. The world was coming to an end.
At last the noise began to fade. Simon looked outside once more. ‘Christ, the world is blazing. Oh God, London must be all but destroyed. But our boys are chasing them – look, they’re headed north-east.’
‘Eeh, Simon, please come back inside. We’re not out of danger. They could swirl back; they have done so afore. Wait for the all-clear.’
When he came back into the shelter, he sat down on the opposite bench to her. ‘Tell me, Flo. Tell me how it came about that a spy was in my house tonight.’
It was the last thing she’d expected him to say, or that she wanted to do. But she could see, as she shone her torch on him, that it had been on his mind and he needed to know. With her voice shaking, it was difficult to form the words, but as the background noise lessened she told him what she knew. She didn’t say anything about the baby Lucinda had been expecting. She thought that was a step too far for him to cope with, and it wasn’t necessary that he should know.
‘Lucinda was going to Aldric’s aunt? She wasn’t going to take up the position of war correspondent? But why? She wouldn’t have seen much of him, if he was working from Germany. How could she have done this? How?’
‘Try to imagine it as if it were you and Roland, and Roland was German. You’re happy and in love, then your countries go to war. Would you stop loving Roland? Would you be able to stand the fact that he’d have to leave this country, or be imprisoned? If there were some way you could be with him, I reckon you’d do the same as Lucinda did.’
Again Simon was silent. After a while he lifted his head. ‘You’re right, of course. And in a way it is like that for me and Roland, even without a war. Secret meetings, not being able to acknowledge each other. Poor Lucinda. It must have been hell for her. She was a patriotic girl. But what if she was so in love and did suspect Aldric? Do you think that’s a possibility? Do you think she went, thinking she could stop him spying on us?’
‘Naw, I don’t think she suspected him. She saw him as a victim of the party that had taken over his country. She said he was anti-Nazi. Anyroad, we don’t knaw yet as he is a spy, we only have our suspicions.’
‘I’d put money on it. He was armed, for one thing. An innocent visitor doesn’t carry a gun. Aldric even being in this country, under the guise of being French . . . Oh, I know he could hardly come in as a German, but the authorities in France are German and would be unlikely to give a pass to a Frenchman. I can’t understand how I was taken in by that. I didn’t even question it. Whereas you—’
‘I had prior knowledge. Anyroad, Aldric’s in captivity now and I don’t have to carry a lie inside me, and that’s good. But what do you think the police will make of me story?’
‘You couldn’t possibly know that Aldric was a spy, or that he would come here. I don’t think you have anything to worry about. The moment he did show up here, you went into action. I should think you’ll be given a medal for your bravery.’
This made her feel better, but something still niggled at her. ‘We have to tell Roland the truth about his nationality. I lied to him about that. But I was just trying to protect Lucinda’s good name and keep some of the confidence she’d entrusted me with.’
‘He’ll understand.’ Simon shifted to sit next to Flo once more as he said this. ‘Come here. Snuggle up to me again.’
As his arm came round her, part of her felt this was where she was meant to be. If things were different – if Simon was different – she could let her feelings for him have their full rein. Because she loved him dearly. No, it was more than that. She’d already acknowledged to herself that she was in love with him. But it was all so hopeless.
As if her feelings had been spoken aloud, Simon nuzzled her neck. His whisper was of love. Her heart thudded desire around her body – desire she knew would forever remain unrequited. Sighing, she sat up. She had to address their situation before it got out of hand and ruined everything. ‘You’ve to stop being so demonstrative in your loving towards me, Simon. I have feelings for you. I knaw it’s daft. I knaw your situation. But I can’t fight them on me own. And you’re not helping matters, kissing me neck and holding me so close and – well, your words. They make me believe things could be different.’
‘Oh, Flo, there’s times when I’m with you that I believe they can be. I do love you. I love you in a way that I’ve never known before. I even feel aroused by you, which is something I was certain couldn’t ever happen with a woman. But it’s true. I want to make love to you – with you. Oh God, what a mess.’
Flo’s heart sang a joyous song, but only for a moment. Soon it was crying with pain.
It wasn’t easy standing up in the Anderson shelter, but if you moved towards the middle you could. She did that now and stood with her arms folded. ‘I’d not be able to share you. It ain’t in me. I’d have to ask you to choose, and I can’t do that. I knaw the love you have for Roland. It ain’t that I don’t believe it’s not possible to love two people – I do; but I don’t reckon as it’s possible to carry on a relationship with both. This between us has to end now. We have to get over it, and put our friendship back onto a proper footing. I think it may be our grief for Lucinda – and yours in particular – that has made us cling to each other in a physical way, as well as being bound like soulmates. But that will pass. Or at least it’ll get easier, and we won’t be dependent on each other so much. Shall we make a pact?’
‘Yes. We will make a pact. I promise not to show how much I love you ever again. I promise to love and treat you as a dear friend only. I promise . . . Oh, Flo, it’s going to be difficult, very difficult. What’s the matter with me? My life was all cut-and-dried, and now you have turned it upside down.’
A tear ran down Flo’s cheek. Another followed it and dripped off the end of her nose. Just yesterday she’d found a way to cope, but now the future stretched interminably. A future of being near to Simon, of loving him, and of watching him love Roland. She should be jealous of that, but she wasn’t; they were right for each other. She was the one who should bail out, but could she?
The wail of the all-clear siren filled her mind. It seemed to signal not only the end of the air raid, but the end of her dreams.