The Girls in Blue (28 page)

‘And you wanted to get your own back.’

‘Nothing so crass.’ He turned away to look out of the window. ‘It’s stopped raining. Perhaps you should go and find your grandmother. I think we’re finished here, Miranda.’

She picked up her handbag and gas mask case, pausing at the door to give him a pitying look. ‘I feel quite sorry for you, Raif. You’ve allowed your father’s mistakes to blight your life, and that’s very sad. Don’t ruin Izzie’s chances of happiness.’ She opened the door and stepped outside, taking a deep breath of the moist air and wrinkling her nose. The rich scent of damp earth was tainted with the smell of high octane petrol and engine oil that still lingered, even though the mighty Spitfires and Hurricanes were idling on the tarmac. She jumped as the frantic ringing of a bell from one of the huts
sent
aircrews racing towards their machines. Raif emerged from the building and hurried off towards the control tower. She stood for a moment, feeling very small and lost in the roar of the engines and the scramble of the crews to be airborne. It must have been just such a scene as this when Gil took off on his last fatal mission. She realised suddenly that she was crying.

Someone grabbed her by the arm. ‘Manda, old Elzevir’s turned up. Your gran says you’re to come right away.’

She dashed the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand. ‘Okay, I’m coming.’

‘What’s up?’ Rita demanded as she fell into step at her side. ‘What did that bugger say to upset you?’

‘Nothing really. I just saw him for what he is and realised what a silly fool I’d been.’

‘Don’t be so hard on yourself, ducks. He’s a bit of all right, but that’s just window dressing. He’s a cold fish when it comes down to it.’

‘How come you’re so wise suddenly, Rita Platt?’

‘Maybe I’ve just had a bit more experience of the world than you, love. You need to get out there and meet other blokes. Have a bit of fun. Life’s too short to bother about chaps like Raif. Give me Jack any time.’

Miranda stopped for a moment, staring at her in surprise. ‘Jack? You fancy my uncle?’

‘It was just a manner of speaking, Manda. Jack’s top notch, but he’s not for the likes of me.’

‘Don’t say things like that. You’re as good as any of us; better than most.’

‘But I’m not posh like Isabel Carstairs.’ Rita hooked her arm around Miranda’s shoulders. ‘I’m a dandelion to Izzie’s delicate rose; she’s a lady and I’m a common girl from the East End. It’s the way of the world.’

‘Then perhaps this war will change all that. Maybe something good will come out of this damned awful mess.’

They had reached the perimeter gates. Miranda could see her grandmother pacing up and down outside while Elzevir sat on the driver’s seat with a pipe stuck between his teeth. Jack was talking to the corporal but he broke off when he saw Miranda. ‘I hope you told Carstairs where to get off,’ he said angrily. ‘You shouldn’t have had anything to do with him.’

‘Leave her alone, Jack.’ Rita squared up to him, bristling. ‘It’s got nothing to do with you.’

‘It has everything to do with me if she told him about Izzie.’

‘I did tell him, Jack.’ Miranda met his angry gaze with a sudden sense of calm. She knew she had done the right thing. ‘There’s no use you speaking to him. He’s never going to change his mind. You’ll just have to go ahead and marry Izzie whether her family agree or not.’

Jack nodded to the corporal. ‘Open the gate, please. My niece is just leaving.’

‘Cheerio, Rita,’ Miranda said, giving her a hug. ‘See you soon, I hope.’

‘You can bet on it.’ Rita sent a warning look to Jack. ‘She’s right and you know it.’

His angry expression melted into a sheepish grin. ‘Trust you to keep me on the straight and narrow, young Rita.’ He leaned over to kiss Miranda on the forehead. ‘I’m going to get a special licence. If Izzie agrees to marry me we’ll tie the knot as soon as possible.’

‘Good for you, Jack.’ With a last grateful glance in Rita’s direction, Miranda hurried through the gate. Elzevir climbed down to help Maggie up onto the seat.

‘About time too, Miranda,’ Maggie said irritably. ‘You shouldn’t have gone off with that fellow. He’s so different from his father that I can hardly believe he’s Max’s son.’

Miranda swung herself onto the cart to sit beside her. ‘I didn’t want them to have a row in public, Granny. It might have turned nasty.’

‘They’re grown men, my dear. It’s not your problem.’

Elzevir encouraged his horse forward with a flick of his whip. ‘What shall us do if there’s an air raid warning, ladies?’

‘Travel on, Elzevir,’ Maggie said firmly. ‘Our boys have just taken off and they’ll sort Jerry out. I want to get home and we’ll work on the principle that a moving target is harder to hit than a stationary one.’

Elzevir reached down into the well of the cart and brought out a familiar-looking bottle. He took the pipe from his mouth and uncorking the bottle with his teeth he took a swig.

‘I hope that isn’t what I think it might be,’ Maggie said suspiciously.

‘One of the last bottles to be found in Dorset, ma’am.’ Elzevir pushed the cork back into the neck of the bottle. ‘Got it in part payment for the logs.’

‘How did your customer get a bottle of that stuff in the first place?’

‘Well, you see, ma’am, it’s like this – sometimes I used to do a bit of trading on the side. In this case I think it was for a pound of blue Vinney. I got a real taste for that cheese and he’s the only farmer round here still making it, thanks to them bleddy Jerries, pardon my language, ma’am.’

Miranda stifled a giggle. Elzevir’s guileless admission came as something of a relief after the tensions of the morning, and her grandmother’s face was a picture of outrage.

‘I certainly hope that was the last one in circulation,’ Maggie said, radiating disapproval. ‘You know what the major said about it, Elzevir.’

‘Aye, ma’am. I most certainly do – the embrocation is for external use only.’ He put his pipe back in his mouth. ‘There goes the siren. Shall us make a run for it then?’

‘Get us home as quickly as your poor old horse can make it,’ Maggie said, holding on to the seat.

They arrived home safely and although the fighter planes were too far away for them to see the dogfights, they could hear the crump of ack-ack guns firing from the ranges along the coast. Maggie allowed Elzevir to help her down from the cart and she opened her handbag, pausing for a moment and meeting his expectant look with a frown. ‘I will pay you for your trouble, but if I discover that you’ve any more bottles hidden away I’ll have to tell my husband.’

Elzevir held out his hand. ‘Thank you, ma’am.’ He closed his fingers over the coins, tipping his cap and winking. ‘But I hardly think as how the major would have me up in court over such a matter. Good day to you both.’ He clambered back onto the cart and drove off, leaving Maggie staring after him.

‘Well, of all the cheek. That sounded suspiciously like blackmail. What do you think, Miranda?’

‘He’d never do anything to hurt you or Grandpa. It was Elzevir’s heavy-handed idea of a joke, and anyway, Annie would give him hell if he stepped out of line. Let’s go indoors. I think it’s going to rain again.’ Glancing up at the gathering clouds, Miranda found herself thinking once again of Gil’s last moments. He had gone up on just such a day as today, just like the young pilots she had seen at Warmwell. How many of them would return, she wondered sadly. When would it all end?

‘Come along, Miranda. I’m dying for a cup of tea.’

Miranda followed her grandmother down the
garden
path to the house. She could hear the telephone ringing even before the front door opened. Maggie hurried to answer it. ‘Hello.’ She paused, listening. ‘I’m sorry, this is a dreadful line. Who did you say was calling?’ She turned to Miranda. ‘Do you know someone called Janice? She says it’s urgent.’

Chapter Sixteen

‘HELLO, JANICE. WHAT’S
up?’

‘I’ve been trying to get hold of you all day, Miranda. It’s good news for a change. Mad Dog did manage to bail out after all. He was picked up by a motor launch that happened to be in the area and taken to hospital in Great Yarmouth.’

Hardly able to believe her ears, Miranda took a deep breath. ‘Was he badly injured?’ She waited, drumming her fingers on the hall table. She could hear Janice speaking to someone in the background. ‘What’s going on?’

‘Nothing, pet. I was just asking Val if she had any more info. She was the radio operator when the news came through. We thought you’d like to know.’

‘Yes, thanks. I’m glad.’ It was an understatement but Miranda was in a state of shock. She had given Gil up for lost, but she knew enough about the injuries he might have received to be cautious.

‘Anyway, got to go. See you in a few days, love.’

‘Goodbye, Janice. Thanks again.’ Miranda replaced the ear piece.

‘Was it bad news, dear?’

Miranda turned slowly to meet her anxious gaze.
‘No
, Granny. At least I don’t think so. I’ve just heard that someone I thought was killed when his plane ditched in the sea has survived.’

‘Well that’s wonderful news, isn’t it? Why the long face?’

‘He’s in hospital.’

‘Why haven’t you mentioned this young man before? He’s obviously more than just a friend.’

‘It’s complicated, Granny. Do you mind if I don’t talk about it now?’

Maggie patted her on the shoulder. ‘What you need is a good strong cup of tea.’ She took Miranda by the hand and led her unprotesting to the kitchen. ‘Annie, put the kettle on. We need sustenance.’ She pressed Miranda down on the nearest chair. ‘We’ve had quite a day of it.’

‘What’s wrong with you?’ Annie demanded, peering at Miranda. ‘You’re white as a sheet.’

‘She’s had a shock. Now stop being nosey and make us a pot of tea. I’m black and blue from travelling on your brother’s wagon. It’s not the most comfortable form of transport.’

‘It got you there and back, didn’t it?’ Annie put the kettle on the hob. ‘You’ve got spoiled riding in that posh motor. I remember the days when you were happy to travel in the governess cart that belonged to old Mrs Beddoes.’

‘That was a long time ago and I was younger then.’ Maggie opened a cupboard and took out a bottle of brandy. ‘I think we both need a tot,
Miranda
. Purely for medicinal purposes, of course. Would you pass me a couple of glasses, please, Annie? You’re nearest.’

Annie shot her a reproachful glance but she put three wine glasses on the table. ‘You’re not leaving me out, I hope. I’ve been slaving away all day making supper while you two were off gallivanting.’

Miranda could see an argument brewing. She was used to their little spats and she knew that they enjoyed sparring, but she was not in the mood to listen. She stood up and taking the bottle from her grandmother she poured three large measures into the glasses. She passed them round. ‘We’ll drink to Jack and Izzie,’ she said firmly. ‘Bung-ho!’

‘So it’s history repeating itself,’ Annie said, putting the glass to her lips and sipping the brandy. ‘Only this time, with luck, there’ll be a happy ending.’

‘Happy endings,’ Maggie said, tossing back the drink in one mouthful. ‘Now, Miranda, what are we going to do about you and your young man?’

It had been one of those moments in the middle of the night when it was impossible to sleep. Miranda had got out of bed and gone upstairs to Jack’s room where she opened the window and went out onto the widow’s walk. A silver path of moonlight rippled on the surface of the sea and it was hard to believe that just a few hours previously the sky had been filled with men and machines locked in deadly combat. She wrapped her woollen dressing gown a
little
tighter around her body and took deep breaths of the cool night air. She had always found it easier to think up here close to the stars and Gil’s description of flying as kissing the clouds came forcibly to mind, making her smile. If she closed her eyes she could summon up a vision of him when he was clowning around in the bar. He had been so full of life then, and he had been the first person to understand that it was shyness fuelling her outward show of reserve. He had seemed to know her better than she knew herself, and she simply could not bear to think of him lying helpless in a hospital bed. Even though she had doubted his sincerity at the beginning, she had a sneaking suspicion that they had been on the brink of something momentous. She knew exactly what she was going to do.

It was not difficult to find Maddern and Son, Auctioneers. Miranda had taken the train to Southampton and a taxi from the station which dropped her off outside the auction house. She paid the cabby and stood on the pavement for a moment, getting her bearings. The name of the firm was emblazoned above the doorway in gold lettering on a midnight blue background, and as luck would have it she had arrived on the viewing day before the next sale. She followed an elderly couple inside and found several people intent on examining the items set out in the barn of a room. There was an eclectic mixture of furniture from different decades,
paintings
, china and silver with a few piles of books giving off their peculiarly musty smell. There were a couple of porters on duty, and Miranda was just about to ask one of them where she might find Mrs Maddern or her daughter when a young woman emerged from the office. She was wearing the uniform of an ARP warden but Miranda was struck by her resemblance to Gil, and she was in no doubt that this must be one of his sisters. She caught up with her as she was about to leave the building and tapped her on the shoulder. ‘Excuse me, but are you Miss Maddern?’

‘Yes, I’m Felicity Maddern. How can I help you?’

‘Could you spare a minute or two?’ Miranda said urgently. ‘It’s rather personal.’

Felicity glanced at her watch. ‘Okay. I’m not on duty for another ten minutes. Come into the office.’ She retraced her footsteps and showed Miranda into a room furnished with two antique desks, a breakfront bookcase and a pair of Edwardian desk chairs. ‘Do take a seat, Miss er …’

‘Miranda Beddoes. I’m a friend of Gil’s.’

‘Really? I don’t think he’s ever mentioned you.’