The Bomb Girls (27 page)

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Authors: Daisy Styles

BOOK: The Bomb Girls
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‘And Daphne?' he asked.

‘Daf's like a golden star that landed in our orbit. She's brilliant and exciting but I think we're going to lose her. I suspect Rodders will want her by his side in London, and whatever Flight Lieutenant Rodney Harston-Binge wants Flight Lieutenant Rodney Harston-Binge gets!' she concluded with a knowing smile.

Across the crowded ballroom, Flight Lieutenant Rodney Harston-Binge was rather drunkenly dancing the foxtrot with Emily, who looked radiant in her blue silk gown and pretty floral headdress.

‘I really should apologize for behaving like a cad and a bounder,' he said as he held her close and swirled her around the room.

‘Don't be daft!' laughed Emily. ‘It's more my fault for leading you on when we met in London.'

‘Well, you were pretty irresistible,' he said a little too intimately. ‘What's a red-blooded man to do but jump in the car and chase after the prey!' He laughed his over-loud snorting laugh. ‘But there you go. And if it wasn't for chasing after your skirt I would never have met my wonderful wife. All's well that ends well, as Shakespeare would say,' he said with another snort.

As the next Joe Loss number swung into a waltz, Emily, clasped ever tighter in Rodney's arms, dared to enquire about Alice and Robin.

‘Last time I asked you said they were in training,' she reminded him. ‘Do you know where they might be now?'

With his tongue well loosened by alcohol, Rodney bent to whisper thickly in her ear.

‘It's all supposed to be hush-hush but for those in the know,' he winked meaningfully as if he was privy to
top-secret information. ‘It wouldn't surprise me if they were behind enemy lines as we speak.'

Emily, overcome at the very idea of this, bolted out of the room and into the Ladies, where she burst into tears.

‘Oh, Alice, Alice,' she sobbed into her tiny lace handkerchief.

She jumped when the door opened, then smiled with relief when she saw Elsie standing in the doorway.

‘I saw you rush off,' she said with her characteristic bluntness. ‘What's wrong, like?'

Though Emily longed to pour her heart out to Elsie, who she trusted implicitly, she knew it wouldn't be fair to Alice and Robin.

‘Nothing,' she said.

‘Dun't look much like nothing to me,' Elsie said knowingly.

‘It's just this wedding … It makes me miss Bill,' Emily lied.

‘Aye, well, that makes sense, pet,' said Elsie as she laid an arm around Emily's shoulders. ‘Now come on, let's have another dance to Mr Joe Loss then get ourselves to bed. We've a long journey back tomorrow.'

Just after dawn the next morning, Stan had no choice but to kiss his wife and daughter goodbye.

‘Come with us, Daddy,' Esther begged.

His heart melted. How he wished he could. ‘I'll join you just as soon as the doctor allows me to leave Cambridge,' Stan replied as he gave his daughter a big kiss.

The journey home was long but the girls were all so tired they slept most of the way. When the train stopped
at Clitheroe station Elsie skipped out and smiled at the moors surrounding the town.

‘Eeh, but it's grand to be home, like,' she exclaimed joyfully.

Back at the Phoenix, Agnes found a letter in her pigeonhole. It was from the Keswick hospital, recalling Esther for treatment. Agnes had known all along that this day would come; how could it ever have been otherwise? Her daughter was sick, and it was an undisputed fact that she needed hospital attention, but somehow, with all the recent events and the buzz and excitement of Daphne's glitzy wedding, Agnes had managed to blank out the prospect of Esther leaving her again. She'd drifted into a make-believe world in which Esther would grow up with baby Jonty in a happy environment where she could see her at least once, if not twice, a day.

The bubble's popped, thought Agnes as she bit back tears and screwed the letter into a hard ball.

Her daughter's happy, carefree days in Pendle were drawing to a close.

CHAPTER
28
Parachute Drop

Autumn in Cornwall was soft and golden, like a final caress of a summer that seemed reluctant to leave. As the Italians surrendered to the Allies and the Soviets valiantly recaptured Kiev in the Ukraine, the Special Ops were sent on an overnight recce into unknown territory where, in a raging storm, they were instructed to transmit at all costs.

‘I don't think I've ever been as sodding wet in my whole life,' Gwynne said as they arrived back at Helford House at dawn, drenched to the skin.

‘That tutor was dead right about stormy atmospheric conditions,' Iris said as she stripped off her wet clothes. ‘I got nothing but a series of bloody hisses all night long.'

After removing her clothes, Gladys snuggled up under her eiderdown in an attempt to get warm.

‘I had a disaster with the aerial. I tied it to an overhead branch, which snapped and landed on top of my radio set – bang went three valves and any chance of me getting top marks for code-breaking,' she said with a rueful laugh.

‘Come on,' urged Alice, who was the first to change her clothes and was heading out of the door, hungry for her breakfast. ‘Back to work!'

When they worked together Alice's and Robin's combined skills made them an effective team, so much so that
the commanding officer called them into his study for a word.

‘It's been pointed out that you two work well together in the field,' he said to the young couple standing before him. ‘Miss Massey's French is practically flawless and her handling of explosives is first rate. Your wireless and messaging skills, sir, are highly commendable,' he said to Robin. ‘Therefore it's been decided that when the time comes for active service you two will remain together.'

‘Thank you, sir,' said Robin as he gave a smart salute.

‘You'll be dropped behind enemy lines in France in the very near future. That will be all. Thank you.'

As Alice turned to walk out of the room, her face lit up with happiness; from now on, whatever happened, she'd always be with the man she loved.

Soon afterwards, on one of their precious short leaves, Alice and Robin pooled their precious petrol coupons and drove around Cornwall in Robin's old Austin. As they rattled and bounced over narrow, unmanaged roads, Robin lit two cigarettes, one of which he handed to Alice.

‘So you think our training's coming to an end?' he asked.

‘The Brigadier's dropped enough hints,' she replied. ‘Plus, we can't stay here for ever, much as I'd love to,' she sighed as she gazed across the wild moors and out to sea.

Robin took a thoughtful deep drag on his cigarette.

‘So far we've been taught how to parachute, drive a locomotive, use a pistol, receive and transmit Morse, decode messages, make invisible ink and how to kill ourselves,' he laughed bleakly. ‘Think we're probably ready.'

‘But are we really?' Alice asked quietly. ‘Are
you
?'

‘Yes!' Robin answered robustly. ‘I want this, Alice. I've never wanted all that ghastly military rigmarole; I've always preferred independence and the freedom to fight a personal war at close quarters. It might sound unpatriotic but I want to be master of my own destiny rather than a pawn in somebody else's grand battle plan.'

‘I think your principles are far finer than mine,' Alice answered.

‘Alice, my darling, whatever your motives you're without question the best bomb-assembler on the course and you're a mean shot with an A.45 pistol.'

‘Oh, Robin,' Alice said as she leaned her head on his shoulder. ‘Don't you ever feel scared?'

‘Of course! It's sensible to be scared, like an actor getting stage fright just before the curtain goes up. It's good to keep the adrenalin high; it keeps one focused.'

‘Oh, I love you!' she laughed as he answered with his usual characteristic honesty and fervour. ‘Let's not think about the war tonight, let's just think about us.'

Changing gear, Robin put a hand over hers.

‘No cracking tonight, young lady!' he chuckled.

The road led them to Lamorna, a tiny hamlet near Mousehole fishing harbour, where they were forced to stop because of the sea mist rolling in and totally obscuring the narrow road. Luckily they found accommodation in an ancient inn, in a room with a crackling fire and an old four-poster bed. When the mist lifted towards the end of the day they walked hand in hand along the cliff tops and looked out over the wide English Channel towards France. With the wind whipping their cheeks and sea
birds wheeling around them, it was impossible to imagine anything other than being in love in a beautiful part of England. They climbed steep iron steps down to the tiny cove, pleased to find they had it all to themselves. Sheltered by large slabs of rock, they watched the autumn sun sink over the metal-grey sea, which churned relentlessly against the pebble shore. All too soon the sun dipped quickly over the horizon, and the sea, briefly coloured a shimmering lavender, faded, in a blink, to grey.

‘I don't want this moment to end,' Alice said as she snuggled her hands underneath Robin's great coat and felt his flesh, soft and warm, beneath.

Robin ran a line of kisses down her delicate neck and into her soft cleavage.

‘Sorry, darling, but I need supper and then I need to get you into that warm four-poster bed!'

Supper was a real treat: local lamb roasted with potatoes, plus delicious sprouts and leeks grown by the landlady on her own allotment. They washed it down with cider, then made their way to bed, where Alice had no guilt or inhibitions about making love to Robin.

The pressures of war and their dangerous work only added to their determination to share and give as much as they could to each other. Their lovemaking not only strengthened them but it focused them on their mission too; both of them were committed to their work as Special Ops and both of them knew full well that they might die fighting to keep the Britain they loved a free country. Those few golden days driving around Cornwall on petrol coupons were memories they would cherish and take to the grave.

Back at the training centre, the Brigadier told the senior Special Ops that their next assignment was a night-time training exercise.

‘Choose suitable clothes for an evening sortie, black up and return here at 2000 hours with your revolvers.'

Returning to their dorm, Gwynne sprawled out on her bunk.

‘Well, that gives us the day off,' she yawned. ‘I think I might sleep till 2000 hours.'

‘You must be joking!' Alice laughed as she rummaged through her clothes trying to find something to wear for their assignment.

‘Hey, don't forget a hat and gloves,' said Gladys as she stood in the middle of the dorm wearing her bra and knickers, a black beret and a pair of woolly gloves.

‘Oh, dear, it's good that we can laugh,' sighed Iris. ‘I have to admit I'm pretty terrified of wandering about in the dark waiting to feel a gun in my back.'

‘It'll be fine,' said Alice confidently. ‘Better we learn these things on our own patch than behind enemy lines.'

Eventually, after sharing out their clothes, they all went to supper suitably clothed, then blacked up their faces in readiness for the sortie.

‘We've chosen tonight because there's a full moon,' the Brigadier told the team. ‘It's easier to hide in the shadows when the moon's bright. We've set up targets; shoot fast and straight when you see them.'

They were driven to a forest where they were told to walk on, with revolvers at the ready.

‘Don't bunch up. Split up and go in search of your
targets,' instructed the Brigadier, who was leading the exercise.

With her heart hammering against her ribcage, Alice scanned the trees. Every breath of wind in the treetops brought her out in a sweat; it was as if all her senses were on high alert. Metal targets attached to the trees on hinges suddenly popped out, causing Alice to jump in alarm, but she kept her cool and shot fast and straight. If a target dropped she knew it was a clean hit; if it remained upright she knew that in real life she'd be dead by now. As she crept deeper into the forest, she heard footsteps behind her. With the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end, Alice turned and held her revolver at arm's length, ready to shoot. A soft laugh startled her, then a friendly voice spoke to her in French.

‘
Une boisson, ma belle?
'

Alice could hardly believe her ears; why would somebody ask her if she wanted a drink on a night raid in the middle of a dark forest?

‘
Non!
' she snapped, whilst keeping the revolver trained on the head of the approaching man.

‘I have brandy and it's a cold night,' he added in French.

And then the penny dropped. Of course! This was just another form of cracking: somebody was playing out the part of a friendly French Resistance worker who might or might not be a German spy. When she heard the metallic sound of a bottle being unscrewed she spoke sharply.

‘Identify yourself!'

‘Okay, you've passed the test,' said the man, who, as he neared Alice, she recognized as one of the sergeants in
the Intelligence Corps at Helford House. ‘I'll go and see if I can dupe some other poor bugger,' he said as he slunk off into the forest, leaving Alice feeling quite shaky.

She leaned against a tree until her breath had steadied, panicking that if she was like this on a training exercise on home ground, how would she cope when it was for real?

They got back to Helford House at four in the morning and were up as usual at eight, ready for what turned out to be their final exercise.

‘Thank God it's daylight,' said Iris as they piled into trucks and were driven to the nearby demolition pit for an explosives training session.

‘Let's see how you cope with booby traps,' the commanding officer hollered.

Half a mile down a track, Alice saw a branch of a tree blocking the path. Not taking any chances, she sidestepped it but Gladys gave it a hefty kick and ‘BOOM!' an explosive went off that sent Gladys flying into the undergrowth.

The track ended by a roadside, where the commanding officer told a dozen of the Ops to guard the area.

‘Three men will cross this road twenty yards up,' he said. ‘I guarantee you won't even see them.'

Looking at the empty road with no obstructions in sight, the trainees shook their heads. It was impossible not to see anybody; they had a clear view for miles. As they stood watching and waiting, a big explosion went off behind them, the force of which sent them all flying to the ground. When the smoke cleared and they were back on their feet the commanding officer smiled.

‘Remember the three men?'

He paused as he waited for their response. ‘Well, they all crossed the road whilst you were flat on your bellies, and they're well away by now.'

The Special Ops groaned at their own stupidity.

‘Such a bloody obvious trick,' said Gwynne.

‘We fell for that, hook, line and sinker,' chuckled Gladys.

‘It's instinctive to fall flat if a bomb goes off but in doing so you might miss vital action up ahead; train yourselves to look around, even as you fall.'

‘Easier said than done,' said Robin as he sidled up to Alice for a surreptitious cuddle.

At the end of a very intense week they were given an operational box that contained a tommy gun, a Smith & Wesson automatic, sharp knives and knuckledusters. They also had their own thirty-four-pound radio set, which was the size of a large suitcase.

‘They'll parachute drop the radio in two halves,' Robin told her.

‘And the other stuff – aerials, earth wires, head sets, spare valves?' she asked.

‘They'll be dropped too,' Robin replied.

One by one, sometimes in couples, they were called into the Brigadier's office, where they received instructions on their first drop. When it came to their turn Alice and Robin were surprised to find themselves in the presence of another couple.

‘You four will be dropped on Friday night,' the Brigadier told them all. ‘You will separate on landing, one couple going west, the other going south. Your aim is to
link up with the French Resistance who will take you to separate places of hiding. From there you will infiltrate the community.'

The Brigadier gave them a smart, swift salute. ‘Good luck and God speed.'

Outside in the corridor, Alice and Robin stared at each other.

‘Scared?' he asked softly.

Alice shook her head as she took hold of his hand.

‘Not when I'm with you,' she replied.

After the intense training and all the endless waiting, wondering and worrying, it was almost a relief to be doing something, to be focused.

When Iris entered the dorm and saw Alice packing she knew not to ask questions; she just nodded, gave her the thumbs-up and left the room.

‘Will I ever see her again?' Alice whispered to herself as Iris closed the door behind her.

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