A Wartime Christmas (17 page)

‘You don’t have to go because I’m at work.’

Bob lifted the suitcase. ‘Well, if we want to catch our taxi and not break our necks on the icy pavement, we’d better be off. Give us a kiss, Kay.’

Kay kissed her father and mother as Vi and Alfie appeared. Alfie gave them a picture he’d been colouring.

‘Oh, ta, my love,’ said Lil, giving her grandson a hug. ‘Just look at how smart you look this morning in that nice coat Aunty Doris bought you. She said you’d fit into it
by Christmas and she was right.’

‘Now, watch your step out there, Lil, the pavements will be icy,’ interrupted Bob, grabbing hold of Vi and plonking a kiss on her cheek. ‘It’s been nice seeing you again,
love.’

As Kay opened the door a cold wind blew in. On it was the salt-tar smell of the docks and another wintry smell of bitter cold that overpowered everything else. The black taxi that her dad had
ordered was pulling up in the road.

‘I wouldn’t like to be here next month,’ called Lil over her shoulder as she stepped out cautiously, holding on to Bob’s arm. ‘It’ll be like the frozen wastes
of Sibera.’

Kay waved them off as Vi took Alfie back into the warm front room.

Kay exhaled a long, unbroken sigh; the holiday had ended without cross words, though at times Kay was certain that without Vi’s help, she would have been perilously near to changing that
state of affairs. She closed the door and went in, where even the freezing cold passage seemed welcoming.

As Lil predicted, 1942 had begun with snowstorms across the country. Kay listened to the wireless reports of Germany’s aerial attacks on Britain and the exploits of small
numbers of enemy aircraft that flew across the country. But the lull over London had continued.

‘Listen to this,’ said Vi one freezing January morning as they sat huddled round the fire. Vi had been given yesterday’s newspaper by Jenny Edwards who always passed on
Tom’s reading; Saturday’s headlines described the battles raging in other parts of the world. ‘The German Panzers are racing forward to confront the English Eighth Army in the
Western Desert, whilst the Russians are stopping the German invaders near Moscow,’ read out Vi. ‘The terrible weather is responsible for turning the pursuers into the pursued.’
She looked up from the newspaper. ‘Alan’s mind will be put at rest that the enemy isn’t having it all their own way. Though it don’t sound too good for our boys in the
desert.’

‘I hope Alan’s not there.’ Kay sat with Alfie who had spread out his train set over the floor. The fire had been going since early, although they were getting low on coke. She
would have to break into the twenty pounds soon. ‘I thought Alan might give me a clue in that Christmas card that came late. But I should have known better. The army don’t let their men
give out any information.’

Alfie rolled a carriage along the track. ‘Daddy an’ Alfie go down the river.’

‘When he comes home,’ Kay agreed, smiling. Her mind went over the memories of them all together on Alan’s leave. November seemed a long time ago now.

Alfie looked up at Kay with his big, brown eyes. He was such a handsome boy with all that dark hair and beautiful olive skin.

‘Daddy comin’ home?’

‘He will one day.’ Kay stroked his silky locks. ‘And then we’ll go down to the river like we used to.’

Alfie jumped to his feet. Kay and Vi laughed. ‘We can’t go yet, it’s freezing.’

Alfie ran across the room to climb on a chair beside the window. He pointed out to the street. ‘It’s freezin’!’

Kay was still chuckling as she went to join him. He was putting short sentences together and for a three-year-old had a wide vocabulary. She knew playing with Gill and Tim next door had brought
out the best in him.

But Kay’s smile faded when she looked outside. The street was deserted. Except for one figure who stood quite still on the opposite side of the road. He was tall and wore a trilby hat and
dark coat. ‘Vi, come quickly!’ Kay called, her breath lodged in her throat.

‘What’s the matter, flower?’

Kay swung round. ‘Quickly, it’s him! That man I told you about. The one I saw from the bus and again at market.’

But when Kay looked back at the street, it was empty. And by the time Vi reached the window, the snow had begun to fall on the deserted pavements in tiny white flakes.

‘At ease.’

The Company Commander of Alan’s unit, Major Campbell, didn’t look up from his desk. He kept his sandy-coloured head bent and his back ramrod straight under his spotless uniform as he
studied the documents before him. Alan relaxed enough to take in a breath and exit the salute he had just made.

After what seemed an eternity, the big man sat back and stared at Alan with an unwavering gaze. ‘Your training is over, Lewis. And you’ve squared up to expectations. But now you are
to begin a more specialized assignment,’ the CC intoned in his Scottish burr, which was not surprising as it was in the heart of the Scottish Highlands that Alan had found himself, flown
overnight by Special Operations from the base in Barnet.

‘Yes, sir.’ Alan didn’t meet his superior’s eyes, even though he was not standing to attention. Instead, he kept his gaze level with the window and the parade ground
outside. In the freezing snow, he could see a sergeant giving two soldiers a dressing down. Alan recognized his mates who had been on jankers. The sergeant had singled them out as the laziest dogs
he had ever come across. Now their weighted backpacks were to be carried around the camp at a fierce trot. Alan smothered a smile. The sergeant was right. They were lazy so-and-so’s and
deserved their punishment. But they were also damn good soldiers, and the army knew it.

‘You’ve had experience of Spain?’

Alan swallowed and nodded. ‘Yes, sir.’

‘You’re acquainted with the German raids on Guernica?’

Again Alan confirmed what his superior had said.

The CC paused before he said sharply, ‘Which is why we’re flying you back in.’

Alan made the mistake of catching the major’s narrowed gaze. He saw in the man’s eyes all he didn’t want to see. From his youthful indiscretions in his teens to the moment when
Alan had been stopped at the borders of Spain and France in his bid to escape for a new life. It was all there in the dossier before him, as thick as a loaf of bread. If Army Intelligence decided
they needed you, then resistance was useless.

‘Franco insists Spain is neutral, but we are convinced he is sympathetic to Nazi Germany and Fascist Italy. But then, Lewis, I believe you had full grasp of this situation in
thirty-seven.’

Again Alan remained silent. He guessed an answer wasn’t required. The army had got what they wanted – him. Major Campbell was reminding him of the power the army wielded; the odds
were stacked heavily against a man escaping a second time from the might of the British government. And, just like the sergeant outside, he was attempting to extinguish any remaining resistance
that Alan might secretly harbour.

Major Campbell expanded his barrel chest under his uniform. ‘In approximately one month’s time you will be flown to the borders of occupied France and Spain. There you will be joined
by the French Resistance who will provide you with the false information that you are to plant in Spain. Is that understood?’

‘Yes, sir.’

The officer studied him carefully. ‘I cannot impress on you enough how vitally important this is to us, Lewis. I’m not at liberty to fully explain our tactics to you, but our Allied
convoys are at risk to the U-boat patrols. At whatever cost, we must distract their submarine forces. Have I made that quite clear?’

As crystal, thought Alan, well aware of the officer’s meaning.

‘And Lewis?’

‘Sir?’

‘Until this war is over, your family will be told nothing of your past. Either of thirty-seven or the years before. But should you . . .’ Again the big man’s eyes flashed
threateningly, ‘. . . should you give us one moment’s cause for concern, the whole damn lot will come out. Whether you are alive or dead, it will be your wife and family who will live
with the consequences. Carry out your mission successfully and you will rejoin your family.’

Alan felt the sweat bead on his brow. His shirt clung to him. His uniform felt like the weight of the world on his shoulders.

‘That’s all.’

Alan saluted and swivelled on his heel. He marched out of the room and past the two guards. He had a vivid picture in his mind of what might happen in the future – Kay’s face, her
shock and disappointment – if the army exposed him for the man he had once been. If only he’d had the guts to tell her when they’d first met. But he’d wanted her more than
anything he’d ever wanted in his life before and he hadn’t been prepared to lose her.

When he reached the parade ground, the sergeant was still bawling his head off. His pals were running at speed, covered in the driving snow. The burden of their wet backpacks would soon be
crippling.

Just like the secrets Alan carried inside him. Secrets the army used to manipulate men like him.

‘Alan’s letter arrived this morning,’ said Kay. She was sitting with Vi and Babs in the kitchen one Saturday afternoon in the middle of March. The kids were
playing in the yard for the first time in weeks. Like January, February had been a miserably cold month but now it felt that at last winter was on the wane.

‘What does he have to say?’ Babs squashed the butt of the cigarette she had been smoking into the stained glass ashtray. It wasn’t long before Vi did the same, blowing the last
lungful of cloudy air into the space above them.

‘Not very much.’

‘Same with Eddie,’ said Babs with a shrug. ‘It’s censorship, ain’t it? Eddie’s favourite phrase is “loose lips sinks ships”, – I dunno how
many times he’s written that. All I hope is he’s not put on a merchant ship that’s defenceless against the German subs.’

‘The poor beggars,’ sighed Vi, shaking her head. ‘So you think Alan’s in England still, Kay?’

‘Yes, as he says he’s training.’

‘At least you know he’s safe, then,’ commented Babs.

‘Not like our poor soldiers in Singapore,’ Vi pointed out.

The three women nodded in silence. In February Kay and her friends had listened to the wireless reports as Winston Churchill had broken the news to the nation that the British troops had
surrendered to the Japanese. He’d warned that the consequences of this for the Allies were grave. No one knew what was to be the fate of the British troops who had held out so defiantly in
the Far East.

‘Every time we get news like that,’ complained Babs, ‘it feels like it did last year in the Blitz. You start thinking of what you’d do if that door burst open and someone
rushed in to attack you. Only this time, we ain’t got our men with us to do the fighting.’

‘Singapore is a defeat,’ agreed Vi, beginning to roll another cigarette, ‘but the Japs ain’t won the war, nor has Jerry. So don’t go thinking along those lines. The
enemy would like to put the wind up us in any way they can.’ Vi grinned and stuck out her tongue to lick the thin paper. ‘Like Kay here, thinking she’s being watched all the
time.’

Kay looked at Vi. ‘Not all the time.’

‘Have you seen him again?’ Babs asked curiously.

‘Not since January.’ Kay had told Babs about the man. The trouble was, her two friends regarded the mystery with amusement as the stranger only appeared when no one else was
looking.

‘Perhaps he’s undercover for the Food Office,’ Babs suggested with a smile. ‘Checking up on black-market coupons.’

Kay pulled back her shoulders. ‘Well, in that case he’s got a long wait.’

Leaving her two friends smiling, Kay got up from the table and went to the front room. She looked out of the window. There was no one there. Was it all the government propaganda that was getting
to her and making her nervous? Only the other day she had been sitting on the bus and overheard a conversation behind her. One woman had remarked she’d seen her neighbour talking to a man who
looked just like Hitler. This was impossible, Kay knew, but when she heard the woman’s companion reply that it was best to report it to the police, Kay had been shocked. She didn’t want
to be part of this scaremongering. She would have to pull herself together before she too became part of the country’s paranoia.

‘I’ve made a couple of apple pies for Gill’s birthday tomorrow,’ Vi told Kay a few days later when Alfie had gone to sleep. It was Friday and a party
had been planned for Gill’s ninth birthday the following afternoon. ‘And a jelly and blancmange, though the taste is never the same with dried milk. Me and Alfie made a few crackers
from the newspaper but there’s nothing in ’em. Still, they’ll amuse the kids for a while.’

‘How many children are coming?’ asked Kay as she scraped the last of the nutty slack onto the fire in the lounge. The weather had been so bad, they had used more fuel than normal.
The twenty pounds that Alan had left was now down to fifteen pounds and seventeen shillings. Twenty pounds had seemed a fortune when Alan had given it to her. She had kept it under the mattress for
a long time, not wanting to break into it. But the winter bills had been heavy. Without Alan’s wage coming in and only his army pay together with her reduced hours at the factory, there had
been a big hole in the housekeeping.

‘Two of Gill’s friends and a mate of Tim’s,’ answered Vi. ‘Plus Alfie, that makes five. But don’t forget, Babs has asked the rest of Slater Street. Any excuse
for a knees-up, eh?’

‘Yes,’ agreed Kay, yet feeling guilty about the two pounds that she had extravagantly given to Babs.

‘I think I’ll turn in, love.’ Vi rubbed her eyes. ‘Unless you want to come in and sit by the last of the fire?’

‘No, I’m ready to hit the sack too.’ Vi had looked tired when Kay had got home from work. The winter had been bad for her rheumatics. And Alfie was a live wire these days. As
Gill’s birthday was on a Saturday, Kay would be up early for work and Vi wouldn’t sleep in either.

‘Goodnight then, flower.’ Vi pecked her cheek.

‘I’ll see to the lights.’

A few minutes later Kay flicked the light switch and the house was plunged into darkness. She was about to go upstairs when there was a knock at the front door. Kay stood still. It was almost
ten o’clock. Late for someone to call. She wondered if Vi had heard the knock, but as Vi didn’t poke her head out, Kay assumed she hadn’t.