23

Lily placed the telephone receiver down on Rose’s desk before going out into the Margate teashop to speak to Joyce. ‘Rose has told us to clock off early. We are to go to Sea View; she has some information about Alexsy’s whereabouts and wants as many of us as possible to help.’

Joyce stopped wiping down the counter and put her hands on her hips. ‘That is good news; at last we can do something to find the poor mite. Give me a shout when you’re ready to go. It has been a long day and I will look forward to escaping.’

‘And what are you fine ladies up to? Have I caught you chatting while you should be working?’ Peter asked as he entered the shop and swung Lily around in his arms.

She bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself laughing out loud. ‘For heaven’s sake, you will shock the customers,’ she said as Joyce gave him a disapproving glare.

‘Behave, Peter,’ Stew said. ‘You’ll get the ladies in trouble with their boss if you aren’t careful. I do apologize,’ he said to Joyce. ‘We are just off duty, and it means some of my fellow pilots like to let off steam. We’re here to see if you and your friends would like to come out with us?’

Lily straightened her uniform and pulled a sad face. ‘Me and Joyce are finishing work early to go to Sea View and help in the search for Alexsy. Rose has been on the phone; they seem to have a lead on someone who may have taken him.’

Stew gave a broad smile. ‘That is very good news. What have the police told you?’ he asked in his broad Scottish accent.

Lily looked embarrassed. ‘The police haven’t done much; it was someone at the other teashop who came up with the information of where they thought this woman lived. We’re knocking off early and going to help Flora and Rose.’

‘Then we will help as well,’ Peter said, rolling up his sleeves. ‘There may be some fisticuffs involved; you will need the strong arm of the RAF.’

‘Now look here,’ his fellow officer said. ‘I don’t think we should go rushing in with all guns blazing. This is a job for the police.’

‘By the time they get their backsides into gear, this woman could have disappeared with Alexsy,’ Lily hit back.

‘Lily is right,’ Joyce joined in. ‘We must act now before it is too late. Of course we will get the police involved, once the lad is safe and we have the woman.’

‘And Tom White,’ Lily spat out. ‘He won’t get away with this if I’ve got anything to do with it.’

‘What if there are other people involved, rather than just this couple?’ Stew asked her. ‘You could find yourself in trouble if you come face to face with a group of people hell bent on kidnapping children; it could endanger the young lad’s life. I’m just trying to imagine what I’d want to do if it was my own son who’d been taken. Of course, I would feel like stringing up the culprits; but the law must be obeyed, and that also means not endangering yourselves.’

‘Stew is right,’ Peter agreed. ‘We need backup, and I know just the chaps. May I use your telephone?’

‘Well, I don’t know; our area manager might walk in at any moment.’

‘There’s a telephone box over the road,’ Joyce suggested.

‘I’ll be back in five minutes. Order us some toasted teacakes and tea,’ Peter said to Stew before hurrying out the door.

‘I’ll find you a table,’ Lily smiled as she led Stew to a window seat. She liked the affable Scottish airman who had visited Captain’s Cottage many times along with Peter. She had the impression he missed his children, as he often spoke of them and was quick to show photographs and news sent by his wife. She wondered if his wife knew about the women who lived in their cottage . . . ‘I’ll get your tea ordered,’ she told him, writing down the order before hurrying away.

A short time later, Peter came back into the teashop with a confident smile on his face that made several of the lady diners smile in return. Lily, who’d been keeping an eye out for him, collected their order and returned to the table. Even though Rose wasn’t on duty, Lily didn’t want word to get back that she had been shirking and chatting with male customers. God forbid, especially, that Miss Butterworth should hear; that woman had never liked her, and had used the word ‘flighty’ when mentioning her name on more than one occasion. Lily had annoyed her all the more by smiling sweetly and speaking in a posh accent.

‘Here you are, boys,’ she grinned as she placed their order on the table. ‘Will there be anything else?’

‘Apart from your company to go dancing later on, I can’t think of anything,’ Peter laughed as he bit into a teacake.

She shook her head in disbelief. ‘It’s only ten minutes since you agreed to help us look for Alexsy, or have you forgotten already?’

He leant back in his seat, wiping the butter from his lips. ‘All sorted. I’ve called up a few chums I know in the army to help us. They are good blokes.’ He looked at his watch. ‘We’d best be making tracks or they will be at Sea View long before we are, and Mrs Neville will wonder why half the army is on her doorstep.’

‘What?’ was all Lily could say before calling Joyce and hurrying to the staffroom to change into her outdoor clothes.

‘How ever will we all squeeze into that?’ Joyce asked, as the two airmen led them outside the teashop to where their lorry was parked.

‘If the two of you can fit into the passenger seat, I’ll climb into the back,’ Stew offered as he helped them up into the cab. From the teashop window, two Sallys who were working behind the counter laughed at the women’s discomfort.

‘We’ll soon be in Ramsgate,’ Peter shouted above the din of the noisy engine as he started it up.

‘Thank goodness for that,’ Joyce exclaimed, grabbing on to Lily for dear life.

‘I don’t know how to thank you all,’ Flora said as she and Miss Tibbs handed out mugs of tea to the men who had joined them in the kitchen of Sea View. Peter had exaggerated a little about the number of soldiers he’d called, but the six who had arrived were warmly welcomed. Rose was amazed to find that one of the soldiers knew Ben, and had even attended their wedding.

‘In my book that makes you almost family,’ she’d grinned before helping Flora to fill in all the details of what had happened when little Alexsy was snatched from the pram.

‘Can you repeat the suspect’s name?’ one of the men asked. Lily quickly answered, explaining more about Tom White working for Lyons before joining the army.

‘May I use your telephone?’ the sergeant in charge asked Flora. She led him to the hall and showed him where it was before returning to the kitchen and closing the door to give him privacy.

‘What exactly is your plan?’ Rose asked Flora.

‘Oh goodness, I’d not really thought about it. Young Jennie here was told the name of the street and approximately where the house is, and . . . well, I thought it would be a case of turning up and taking Alexsy back.’

Lily laughed, but then her expression became serious. ‘We need a better plan than that. What if it is the wrong house? Or the woman hasn’t taken Alexsy after all, and has her own child in the house? It wouldn’t only be a matter of looking foolish; we could be in trouble with the police for bothering her, and for not giving them all the details of what we think we know.’

‘Can they arrest us for holding back information?’ Katie asked, looking worried. Stew assured her that this was highly unlikely, but that they’d all get their knuckles rapped and the men would probably be reported to their commanding officers.

‘I can’t have that. Perhaps you should leave this to us,’ Flora said, giving the men an apologetic look.

‘But we have the transport,’ one of the soldiers told her. ‘We can’t have you ladies walking the streets alone.’ This made Miss Tibbs give a girlish laugh.

The army sergeant came back into the room just as Rose started to speak. ‘I intend to go and look for Alexsy regardless of who else is going to join me. I also want to have a word with Tom White before we call the police. I’m unhappy that he treated Mum like he did and I’ll make it clear to him I will be informing the police; just perhaps, that will be enough to have him scarper and never come back to Thanet again.’

‘I’ll help you,’ Lily said, ‘as it was my Mary he was after.’

The rest of the women in the room agreed.

The sergeant cleared his throat to get everyone’s attention. ‘We will be accompanying you; it seems that our Tom White is absent without leave and we need to apprehend him. No doubt the police will have a say in this as well, so we will be working together. Let’s drink our tea and decide what is going to happen.’

The women all grinned at each other.

‘Well, I never,’ Miss Tibbs exclaimed.

‘Let’s hope he’s nabbed and locked up before the day is out,’ Flora sighed. ‘I just want life to get back to normal. To think he lied to me about his health and his reasons for coming back – and all along he had absconded from the army. What a rotter!’

‘It couldn’t happen to a nicer chap,’ Lily smiled as she raised her teacup to Peter, who grinned back.

Anya held out her hand to Mildred, pulling her to her feet. ‘You look tired; would you like to rest a little more?’

‘No, we need to keep going or we will be late for our rendezvous; then what will happen?’ Mildred muttered, wincing as she took a few steps. ‘These shoes are killing me.’

Anya tutted. ‘You are not used to wearing shoes.’

‘I’d have looked daft wearing my wellington boots with this dress,’ Mildred said, looking down at the crumpled floral cotton that had seen better days.

Anya had to agree as she looked at her friend in her unusual garb. ‘You should have dressed as a man like you usually do; then you’d have been comfortable during our trek and your feet would not be aching as much.’

Mildred ignored Anya’s comment, not wishing to explain that if they’d met German soldiers during their journey, a woman dressed as a man would not have been looked upon favourably. ‘I’ll cope,’ she said. ‘At least I refused to wear a corset under this disgusting frock.’

Anya laughed out loud, with Mildred joining in moments later. ‘Look,’ Anya said, ‘there is a footpath over there that must lead down to the sea. Why don’t we take a rest, and you can dip your feet in the water to soothe them? It will be better for you than sitting at the edge of the road while being vigilant.’

Mildred agreed. Since being dropped off they had followed the map scribbled on a scrap of paper by Alphonse, sticking close to a road that followed the shoreline towards Lion-sur-Mer, all the time listening out for traffic and being prepared to hide behind a hedge at the slightest sound of approaching potential enemy vehicles. Or indeed collaborators. There had been very few farms or houses, which they were grateful for, although Alphonse had whispered to Mildred that they would have to be extremely careful as a German battalion had recently been spotted in the area. They’d thought it best not to inform Anya of the dangers, with him suggesting they lie low through the night and venture past the buildings where the enemy would be camped out just after dawn, when there would be fewer people about. It would look as though they were on their way to work, but even so, they had to be vigilant. Travelling at night, they might well have been stopped and questioned if there was a local curfew in place.

‘We could rest and eat some of the food Alphonse gave us,’ Mildred suggested. ‘Let me go first in case there’s someone about, since I can speak the language.’

As it was they had safe passage down to the edge of the sea, where they were out of view of the road, and settled between a few sand dunes that sheltered them from the wind whipping across the water. Mildred rummaged in the canvas bag she had slung over her shoulder, pulling out a paper bag containing part of a loaf of bread as well as a lump of cheese and sausage wrapped in oilcloth. ‘The bread is almost stale, but it will be filling,’ she said, tearing it into four and handing a piece to Anya. Taking a small knife from her bag, she next cut into the sausage and cheese, rewrapping the rest for later. ‘It should give us one more meal if we are frugal,’ she said, before biting into the sausage.

Anya sniffed the meat and wrinkled her nose at its strong garlic odour. Taking Mildred’s knife, she thinly sliced the sausage and cheese and placed them between two halves of her bread. ‘Just edible,’ she said, although Mildred noticed she ate every morsel and licked her fingers afterwards.

Mildred slipped her knife into her pocket, planning to rinse it in the sea, then untied the laces of her shoes and kicked them off with a sigh of relief.

‘Your toes are red raw, and there is a blister on your heel. How are you going to continue the journey with feet like that?’ Anya asked as she peered closer. ‘Go down to the water’s edge and soak them; the salt water may help.’ She placed her hands under the skirt of her dress and wriggled out of a cotton petticoat, ripping strips from the garment. ‘Use this part to dry your feet and then bind them with the bandages I have made. I will come with you to check you do it properly,’ she said, standing up and removing her jacket before rolling up the skirt of her dress and tucking it into the elastic in the legs of her knickers. ‘I don’t wish to get wet,’ she explained, seeing Mildred’s smile.

‘I had a sudden memory of being a child and doing the same when I went paddling in the sea. Come on; let’s run into the waves, as they will be cold,’ she said, holding out her hand to Anya. The two women ran the twenty yards into the crashing waves, shrieking as the cold water splashed around their legs.

‘It is cold but invigorating,’ Anya shouted to Mildred to make herself heard above the sound of the waves.

‘My feet feel better already. Perhaps when we are back home in Ramsgate, we should try to dip our toes in the sea more often,’ Mildred called back.

‘I don’t think so,’ a man said from behind her in a gruff German accent. ‘Put your hands up . . . and turn around slowly.’ They heard the unmistakeable click of a gun.

Anya closed her eyes as she turned. She didn’t want to look into the eyes of the Nazi bastard whose army had destroyed her home and her family in Poland. She felt a surge of anger at the thought that this would be the end of everything for her: she would never see her son or her Henio again, never serve bread as a Sally. Above all, she’d spent the night on a stinking fishing boat being sick in a bucket, only to be killed by the first German they came across. Beside her, she felt Mildred’s elbow nudge her as they stepped forward on the uneven sand. The soldier had stepped behind them and was shouting for them to move forward. Anya opened her eyes just as Mildred stumbled.

‘Mildred,’ she cried. Ignoring the soldier’s shouts, she bent down to help her friend.

Mildred grabbed her arm and pulled her down to her knees while whispering. ‘If this fails, his name is Domino, meet him by the boatyard at the designated time. Now stay there.’

Anya was confused. What the hell was going on? She felt rather than saw the gun as the German soldier moved up behind them and bent over Mildred, aiming directly at her head. Mildred let out an almighty roar, startling him. At the same time, she lunged at him with the knife she’d used to cut up their meal.

‘Take that . . . and that,’ she bellowed as the man staggered, clutching his stomach.

For a moment, Anya’s eyes met his. Clear blue and ice cold. ‘Is this war worth your hate?’ she spat at him as he collapsed in a heap across Mildred’s legs.

She struggled onto her feet and rolled him off Mildred, helping her to her feet.

‘Check he’s dead,’ Mildred said, not taking her eyes off the man, who now lay motionless on his stomach.

Anya put her fingers to his throat. ‘There is no pulse,’ she said in a calm voice. ‘What should we do now?’

Mildred looked around, shielding her eyes against the late afternoon sun. ‘They don’t tend to travel alone. Help me drag him out of view before we’re seen; there must be more of them about.’

Holding an arm each, they tugged and dragged until the soldier’s body was by a sand dune, hidden behind the remains of a wall that lined the road.

‘Take off your jacket and use it to brush over the sand so there’s no trace of what happened,’ Mildred said. She started to go through the German’s pockets and remove anything that might identify him.

‘What now?’ Anya asked as she bent over, hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath.

‘Now we bury him and move on. We have an appointment to keep.’