Birmingham Blitz (39 page)

‘I am.’ She pushed the last piece of biscuit into her mouth and got up. ‘The pictures with Laurie. Won’t be late.’ She nodded at me. ‘Cheerio, Genie, nice to meet you.’

Marjorie drifted off as well, leaving the four of us sat round on their coffee-coloured furniture. They didn’t make me feel awkward and I liked the way Joe and his dad talked to each other, man to man. Joe often turned to smile at me as we talked. I was still reeling from him coming home, didn’t care where I was or what we did as long as I could be with him. Mrs Broadbent asked me about my family and later she made drinks of Bournvita.

As it grew late Mr B said, ‘Are you going to run Genie home?’

‘Can you drive?’ I was impressed with that. No one else we knew had a car except the doctor.

‘I’ll give you a demonstration, shall I?’ Joe took my hand to pull me up.

When we’d climbed into his father’s Austin, me looking round the inside in amazement, he said, ‘It’s good to be home, but I’ve been dying to have you to myself.’

We waited while his dad gave us a wave and closed the front door, then Joe took me in his arms and I rested against him, smelling his familiar smell mixed with the leather of the seats. Our lips found each other’s.

‘I thought so much about what it would have been like if you hadn’t come back,’ I said, looking up at him. ‘It felt as if anything good in my life had ended.’

Joe stroked my head against his chest. ‘I thought about it too – about losing you. You’ve had raids here already, haven’t you? And there’ll be more if London’s anything to go by.’

‘Didn’t you think about yourself – what danger you were in?’

‘Only when I let myself. You can’t too much. Hardly ever at Tangmere – otherwise I wouldn’t be able to do the job. You don’t think about dying. You get through every day, somehow. You have to be nearly as much of a machine as the planes.’

I didn’t want to press Joe too much on the subject. Wasn’t even sure how much I wanted to know anyhow. He’d said he was in an air crew at Tangmere and that towards the end of it all, Tangmere and Kenley had been the only sector airfields left to handle the defence.

‘It’s over anyway, that part,’ Joe said. ‘Let’s think about the future.’

He started the car and drove across to the Stratford Road.

‘How d’you fancy a day out tomorrow?’

‘With you? Nah, don’t think so.’ I grinned at him as we pulled up outside our house.

‘Cheeky hoyden!’ He leaned over and tickled me until I was begging him to stop. ‘Dad might lend us the car.’

‘The car!’ I sat up straight. A car to drive anywhere we wanted! ‘Pick me up as early as you can,’ I ordered him. ‘I don’t want to miss a single moment.’

Apart from the Lickey Hills, which just about counted, I’d never been out of Birmingham before. Joe drove us out to Kenilworth, me in a state of high excitement.

‘There’s a castle,’ Joe told me as I was bouncing up and down on the seat next to him. ‘And lots of country round to walk in. That’s if the car’s still in one piece to get us there by the time you’ve finished.’

‘I can’t believe this, Joe,’ I kept saying as we drove out along the Coventry Road, and Joe laughed again at my fidgety happiness as the edges of Brum faded behind us.

‘It’s not a very marvellous day,’ he said, leaning forward to look up through the windscreen. ‘Doesn’t look as if it’ll rain though.’

‘I don’t care if it does.’ We laughed. Laughed a lot that day.

Now we were out of town I was full of exclamations about the fields, the fresh smell of the air, old cottages in the villages, cows and sheep, and the fresh hay bales spilling out of barns. All of it was exciting to me, like travelling into a story book.

‘Oh Joe, I want to live in the country,’ I said, overcome by all I could see and how lovely it all looked, even under a cloudy sky. ‘I know it seems strange, no pavements and chimneys and shops and that, but I wouldn’t miss them. Not if I could have all this.’

Warwickshire seemed at least as good as heaven that day.

Joe parked up the car in a narrow side street in Kenilworth and we walked through the little town with its pretty houses and generous green space in the middle. In the gardens there were still roses, beds of marigolds, golden rod.

‘It all looks so small, doesn’t it?’ Joe said.

‘It’s beautiful,’ I sighed, and Joe laughed.

‘You’re nice and easy to please.’ He put his hand in the pocket of his jacket, and with his spare one, drew my hand through the crook of his arm. He leaned round and kissed me. I didn’t care that it was in the street where people could see. I was proud to be there on his arm and I didn’t give a monkey’s who was watching.

We walked around, close together and very leisurely all morning, talking and laughing. We had a fish dinner in the Queen and Castle (a big treat), before going to see the real castle, not far away, at the edge of the town.

As we walked round inside the shell of the castle walls, where it felt very quiet suddenly, or set out along a path into the fields, I held my hand in Joe’s, or sometimes slipped it into the pocket of his coat where his change rattled against the silky lining.

‘I don’t even know why you’re wearing a coat this time of year – must be a born pessimist!’

We walked across the fields, climbing stiles, as the sky turned to lead, and watched the cows grazing, wondering when the rain was going to come. It wasn’t long before enormous drops started to fall. Right away everything smelt lovely in the wet.

‘Oh no!’ Joe groaned, getting all bothered like he had over the bikes. ‘Here, Genie. You have my coat.’

‘No, I’m all right. I don’t mind!’ The rain made me feel wildly happy and reckless. It was heavy but warm, and the sound of it was all around us like a loud rustling. I turned my face up and held my arms to the sky, half dancing along the path.

‘It’s raining, it’s pouring, the old man is snoring—’

I didn’t care if I got drenched to the skin. I tore along, feeling it dash on my face and sink into my scalp through my hair.

Seeing me, Joe must have decided there was no point being worried, and he ran behind me and took my hand.

‘Look!’ he called out. ‘Over the other side – we can shelter.’

The field we were running across was pasture for cows. It had clumps of enormous thistles with purple tops and there were cowpats all over the place. I was glad to see the black and white cows were all huddling right at the other end. Joe and I ran together, careful where we put our feet, laughing and whooping as the rain streamed down our faces.

‘Crikey, what a downpour!’ Joe shouted.

He felt very strong and fast but I kept up easily, even though it was all uphill, feeling as if I had an iron body and could have just gone on and on running.

The barn at the border of the fields was almost full. Joe picked me up and lifted me on to the ledge of straw bales which was about up to my chest, then climbed up himself and at last we were under cover. The rain was still coming down like mad, sweeping sideways across the slope of the field. We looked round, then at each other, and laughed again.

It was perfect. The stack was packed like a staircase, the bales at the back and sides piled right to the roof of the barn, but with a wide-stepped gap up the middle presumably designed so you could climb up to reach the ones at the back. It might have been made for us. The light was dim as we climbed further towards the top of the stack and the rain thundered on the roof. We settled down together surrounded by the fresh, prickly bales of straw, water seeping from the ends of our hair.

Still getting my breath back, I lay and looked up at the darkness. ‘This is the most wonderful, exciting thing I’ve ever done.’

Joe turned and smiled at me, shouldering his coat off.

‘I suppose you think that doesn’t say much for the rest of my life? And that’d be about right. But it’s doing this with you. That’s the thing.’

He leaned over and wiped my face with his handkerchief, his own still shiny with water, eyes on mine. ‘Some people would have let it spoil the whole day. Not you though.’ Teasing, he pressed his little finger into my cheek as I smiled. ‘Dimples.’

He mopped his own face, then absent-mindedly opened up the white square and laid it out flat on the other side of him, although there wasn’t much hope of it drying. I think he was looking for something to do. Neither of us spoke for a time.

Things changed in those moments. I went from wild, crazy happiness to feeling solemn suddenly, affected by Joe’s closeness to me. I watched him, wondering what he was thinking.

Joe had never said or done anything to offend me in any way. We’d kissed of course, touched outside our clothes, but he was always considerate and tactful. He’d never pushed me to do anything more than I wanted. I suppose he thought I was more innocent than I actually was, coming from households like ours and Nan’s. I knew promiscuity led to punishment, like it had for my mom. That it was cheap and wrong to think of going with a man before you were married and that he’d probably think so badly of me if he knew what I was thinking . . .

Yet as I lay looking at him my whole body was full of longing. I found I was trembling with love for him and with need. I knew that at my age I shouldn’t be wanting what I did then, from Joe. And as he turned and lay beside me all this desire and confusion must have shown in my eyes because I couldn’t hide it. He leaned over me and in his eyes I saw the same struggle between thought and emotion, the same overwhelming longing.

I reached up and put my arms round his neck, shaking.

‘Are you cold?’

I shook my head. ‘No. Not cold.’

He understood me and half sat up again. ‘Genie, the way I feel about you, I’d give anything, anything – But you’re so young. I keep forgetting that. I don’t want us – you especially – to do anything we’ll regret.’

I sat up and put my arms round him again. Here he was. Now, in my arms. ‘We could be dead soon. Either of us.’

Joe looked down at me, eyes full of emotion. ‘I didn’t know this feeling could be so strong. Wanting you all the time. I know I couldn’t write, but you were in my mind so much. I kept thinking of you – your body.’

‘And I did. I remember thinking I don’t know you – all of you – what your shoulders are like. Your legs. And you might never come back and I’d never know. It’s like a dream all this, Joe, to me. You’ve got to believe me – nothing anything like as good as this has ever happened to me before.’

Joe held me close. ‘I love you, Genie. More than I can – anything I say never feels enough.’

‘Joe—’ My cheeks were burning suddenly. ‘I’m only afraid of having a babby.’

He blushed then, fiddled with a wisp of straw. ‘I can prevent it. Forces issue.’

‘I want to tell you something.’ Heart beating hard, I spoke all in a rush. ‘Now, so I’m never hiding anything from you. It’s my mom. She’s having a babby and it’s not my dad’s. I need you to know, that’s all. That’s one of the reasons things are difficult at home. I never told you before because I was ashamed and scared of what you’d think.’

He let this sink in. ‘Well, whose . . .? No, it doesn’t matter whose, I suppose.’ He kissed my hair. ‘But it’s not your fault. It’s nothing for you to be ashamed of.’

‘But when it’s your own mom—’

‘Look, you’ve nothing to worry about with me. It’s not for me to judge her.’

‘People will though. They do.’

We lay kissing and touching, both of us trembling, pressed tight together as if we could each slide under the other’s skin. The hard, pummelling downpour had eased but it was still raining steadily and the light came to us as if through cobwebs. I could sense Joe’s excitement and I sat up in our little half-lit funnel between the bales and undid the buttons of his shirt. His shoulders were slim, pale and strong as I’d known they would be. He sat up to pull off the shirt and I put my face to his chest, soft with hairs, and breathed in the smell of him, felt the pulse of his blood.

He undressed me with shaking fingers and his shaking made me love him more. I thought how I would never in a million years let Jimmy do this, see any of me, let alone down there, the private place between my legs, and I felt very shy even with Joe. But I trusted him as he peeled off my blouse, then my damp little camisole, hesitating before touching my tiny bosoms as if he hardly dared.

When we were both fully undressed we touched each other’s bodies. I felt his warm breath on my skin. Our eyes kept finding each other’s, talking with no words. When Joe’s hands moved between my thighs I heard his breath catch and this desire, his need to keep control, made me lift myself to him, legs widening.

We lay there afterwards on the scratchy straw, warming each other. ‘Joe, my Joe,’ I said again and again, my arm tight over him. ‘You’re all I’ve ever wanted.’ The small amount of light cast deep shadows on the dips and hollows of our bodies. Joe pulled the dry side of his coat over us.

‘Has its uses, you see.’ Then he said. ‘My love. My love.’

There was silence, except for the rain.

‘When I was a kid,’ I said, ‘and it was raining outside – at night like – I used to lie there and think of all the people out in it. Not just people. Cats and dogs, anything that had nowhere to go. And I used to wish I could bring them all in, know that everything was safe inside under shelter. I had this doll, Janet. I’ve still got her – she looks pretty rough now – and I’d cuddle Janet and talk to her and pretend we could rescue everyone. We had soup made, the lot, in our game!’