The Way Ahead (27 page)

‘Never heard of anyone with a name like that.’

‘Well,’ said Alice, ‘let me tell you—’

‘Oh, wait, d’you mean Mac the Bandit?’

‘What?’

‘MacAllister, yes, of course, so sorry, only no-one, even the Super, calls him anything but Mac, or Mac the Bandit, and I’m a bit new here, anyway. D’you have a query we can help you with, Miss Adams?’

‘No, never mind,’ said Alice. ‘No, wait. Why do you call him Mac the Bandit?’

‘Oh, I can’t discuss personal matters, madam.’

‘No, of course not, goodbye,’ said Alice, and put the phone down. She put two and two together, and decided the man had been given the nickname by his workmates because he looked like a Mexican of the bandit kind.

When her mother came home later, she told her of the man’s call, what he had said about the leak,
what
he had done and what he was going to do. Vi said that was all right, then, as long as he brought the new joint tomorrow. Alice kept quiet about the suspicions she had had of him.

The villainous-looking Scotsman reappeared during the afternoon of the following day, a wet and windy one, and Alice considered it bad luck that she was alone again, her mother out shopping. For all that the Gas Board had confirmed him to be genuine, Alice simply did not think him incapable of quietly lifting an object or two.

However, he brought the necessary T-joint, addressed her with cheerful politeness, put his head into the airing cupboard again, and did his work whistling ‘Lili Mariene’. Alice watched him. He broke off his whistling to ask her why she was at home.

‘I don’t think that is any business of yours,’ she said.

‘Curiosity, y’ken,’ he said, still working away.

‘It killed the cat,’ said Alice. ‘Is yours a reserved occupation, by the way?’

‘Come again?’ he said, and blew on the newly fixed joint.

‘Well, you aren’t in uniform, are you?’ she said.

He turned his head and looked up at her, a strange expression on his face, and Alice knew she had committed an error that now discomfited her.

‘Nor you, Miss Adams,’ said Fergus, and finished his work.

‘I’m sorry, that was unfair of me,’ she said.

‘Och, dinna mind yoursel’,’ he said, ‘ye’re young
yet
.’ He came to his feet, picked up his toolbox, and put his empty pipe between his teeth. He took it out again to say, ‘I’ll turn on the main.’

‘Thank you,’ said Alice, ‘and thanks for fixing everything.’

‘Nae bother,’ he said, and she followed him down the stairs. He eyed her when he reached the front door, his twinkle back. ‘The war’s a serious business for all of us, I don’t doubt, but d’ye go dancing at the Lyceum a time or two?’

‘I do not,’ said Alice.

‘Will you come with me sometime?’

‘Certainly not,’ she said, ‘I don’t care for that at all.’

‘Ye’re a sad lassie,’ he said, and left.

Alice closed the door sharply on him.

She spoke to her dad about him that evening. Tommy shook his head at her.

‘Alice, you asked him why he wasn’t in uniform and turned down his invitation to go dancing?’

‘I apologized for the one thing, I considered I’d given him no encouragement with the other,’ said Alice.

‘Alice, me love,’ said Tommy, ‘you talk sometimes like a young lady professor, and you’re not at university yet, nor seen much of life.’

‘Dad, I know you left school at fourteen and began to see life from then on,’ said Alice. ‘I’ll begin to see it in a different way when I start at university.’

‘Of course you will, love,’ said Vi.

‘And good luck,’ said Tommy. ‘But I know the bloke. Well, I know about him from a bloke who knows him, and talked about him at the pub.’
Denmark
Hill boasted its own pub. ‘He was in uniform once, he was in the battles that led to Dunkirk. He was with that Highland Division that tried to hold back Rommel’s army and got surrounded, most of the survivors ending up as prisoners. He was lucky enough to be stretchered out of the battle before the Jerries cut the division off. He’d been badly wounded. Full of shrapnel. They took a lot out, but ’ad to leave some in. Some of what’s still there pops out through his skin every so often. What’s still left in, well, it’s a problem, I suppose. He had to leave the Army, of course. They invalided him out, so it must be a problem. Mind, I was told he never looks as if he’s carrying some lead weights, and the Gas Board didn’t argue about giving ’im a job. Pity you didn’t act a bit more gracious, Alice.’

‘Tommy, Alice didn’t know any of that, and come to that, nor did I,’ protested Vi.

‘Well, that’s true,’ said Tommy. ‘Yup, true enough. Live and learn, I suppose, eh? Eh, Alice?’

‘Yes, live and learn, Dad,’ said Alice, feeling about five inches tall.

She bit her lip.

PATSY WAS TICKLED
at the way Daniel and his family set about Sunday tea, everyone seated around the dining-room table laid with a snowy white cloth. She hadn’t imagined anything so formal, with Daniel’s mother and grandma obviously in their best Sunday outfits, Paula and Phoebe in Sunday frocks, Daniel in a suit, and his father and grandpa likewise. Not that they all sat up stiff and stuffy, no, everyone talked and reached and passed things and ate, while Granny, with a huge teapot in front of her, addressed the guest hospitably from time to time.

‘Another slice of bread and butter, Miss Kirk?’

Miss Kirk, would you believe, what a cute old lady.

‘More shrimps, Miss Kirk? I must say my son Sammy has managed to get hold of some nice ones.’

I’m fascinated, thought Patsy, I never knew people as old-fashioned as this were still living.

‘More tea, Miss Kirk?’

I’ll drown in it.

‘Is the cake to your liking, Miss Kirk? I must admit it don’t have the kind of ingredients I’m used to
when
baking, but that’s what comes of being at war. I knew that man Hitler would lead us into it, I can’t remember how many times I said so to my husband and my only oldest son Boots, but of course no-one took any notice, and look what’s happened.’

Boots? Was there someone called that in this family?

‘Might I ask what you have for Sunday teas in America, Miss Kirk?’

‘Oh, I guess we don’t celebrate Sundays like this, Granny, and we mostly crisp-fry our shrimps, which come a bit bigger.’

‘They’re prawns?’ said Mr Finch.

‘Excuse me?’ said Patsy, wearing a sweater and skirt, which looked fetching enough, but casual compared to Sunday frocks.

‘We call big shrimps prawns,’ said Daniel.

‘What’s them?’ asked Phoebe of Paula.

‘Prawns,’ said Paula.

‘Yes, but what’s them?’ asked Phoebe.

‘What’s prawns, Grandpa?’ asked Paula.

‘Oh, let’s say adult shrimps,’ said Mr Finch.

‘Crikey,’ whispered Phoebe, ‘what’s them?’

‘Grown-up shrimps, I expect,’ said Paula, ‘like Patsy has in America.’

‘Have another slice of cake,’ said Daniel to Patsy, and pushed the stand towards her.

‘Well, gee whiz, thanks, I will,’ said Patsy, and took a slice. It was great. ‘Excuse me, Granny, could I—’

‘Oh, more tea?’ offered Chinese Lady.

‘No more tea, thanks,’ said Patsy, ‘I’d just like to have the recipe for the cake.’

‘Well, bless me,’ said Chinese Lady, ‘d’you do baking, then?’

‘Sure I do, for my Pa,’ said Patsy.

‘Then I must say I’m very admiring of you,’ said Chinese Lady.

‘I shop, cook, bake and do housework for me and Pa,’ said Patsy.

‘Well, I never,’ said Chinese Lady.

‘I’m an also-ran,’ said Daniel, ‘I only plant potatoes.’

‘We’re happily awaiting results, Daniel,’ said Mr Finch.

‘I’m impressed, Daniel, believe me,’ said Sammy, ‘and so I am with Patsy as her dad’s daily help.’

Well, thought Chinese Lady, well, I don’t know that Daniel hasn’t found himself a proper young lady, already useful around a house, and at a time when too many other girls were acting very flighty. It wouldn’t do for Daniel to take up with that kind. She warmed to Patsy.

‘About the recipe, Miss Kirk, it’s only one of our wartime recipes they print in magazines,’ she said.

‘Oh, sure,’ said Patsy, ‘but I’d like to have it.’

‘I’ll write it down for you when we’ve finished tea, Miss Kirk,’ said Chinese Lady.

‘That’s sweet,’ said the proper young lady. ‘Excuse me again, Granny, but I’d care for it if you called me Patsy.’

‘I’d be pleasured,’ said Chinese Lady, and thought about how to encourage Daniel to take up serious with this respectable and domesticated girl. Otherwise, one of them flighty wartime girls might take up with him.

After tea, when the table had been cleared and the washing-up done, everyone repaired to the parlour, where Paula, a promising pupil, played the piano, and all the others sat around. I’m dreaming again, thought Patsy, this is out of Dickens, and it’s only the clothes that are different. I’ve seen illustrations in his books.

But the music and the family tableau didn’t last long. Paula did only a brief stint on the piano, then scampered out of the room and returned with a bagatelle board.

‘Let’s play, can we, Mummy?’

‘I’ll get unpopular if I say no,’ smiled Susie, and Patsy watched as the bagatelle was placed on the carpet. Immediately, it was surrounded by kids and grown-ups on their knees. Paula, Phoebe, Daniel, Susie and Sammy were all there.

‘Come on, Patsy, join in,’ said Daniel, and down Patsy went. A circle of six heads hovered above the board, and Patsy was given first go. Ping went the little hammer, up shot the metal ball, and down it came, striking pins before it plonked itself in a hole scoring ten. Shrieks, yells, cries and complaints became the order of the evening from then on.

‘Mummy, Daddy’s got his elbow in my eye nearly.’

‘Daddy’s got that kind of elbow, Paula.’

‘Someone’s pushing.’

‘Crikey, look, I went and scored a fifty.’

‘How many’s that altogether?’

‘I don’t know, I forgot to count.’

‘Here, when’s my turn?’

‘It’s mine.’

‘No, it’s not.’

‘Someone’s pushing.’

‘Yeah, and I know who. Daniel, I’ll sock you.’

‘Play up, Patsy.’

‘Phoebe, stop yelling in my ear.’

‘Paula, I can’t do yells yet, I fink I have to wait till I’m older.’

‘Your go, Susie.’

‘Well, get your head out of my way, Sammy.’

It all convinced Patsy that Daniel and his family were old-fashioned but fun.

When Daniel took her home later, she gave him a kiss outside the front door.

‘Ta!’ said Daniel, and gave her one in return.

‘Did I say you could?’ she asked.

‘No, but you left your mouth there,’ said Daniel.

‘It goes with my face,’ said Patsy.

‘You left your face there, then,’ said Daniel.

‘Oh, well,’ said Patsy, ‘accidents will happen. Still, you kiss pretty nice, Daniel. I guess you’ve known a lot of girls.’

‘Schoolgirls down in Devon mostly,’ said Daniel.

‘It’s a crime in states like Alabama, kissing underage schoolgirls,’ said Patsy.

‘I didn’t do it in Alabama,’ said Daniel. ‘Down in Devon, didn’t I say so?’

‘Yes, and you need watching. Well, goodnight, Daniel, thanks for a fun evening.’

‘Pa?’ said Patsy, when her dad came in at ten o’clock.

‘You’re going to touch me for an increased allowance?’ said Meredith Kirk, a newscaster with a
voice
built for making a radio deliver exciting vibrations into the ears of lady listeners.

‘Thanks, just an extra ten per cent’ll be OK,’ said Patsy. ‘Actually, I wanted to tell you I’m getting to like this English guy.’

‘It’s always good for the soul, a liking for friends.’

‘That’s profound, I don’t think,’ said Patsy. ‘A friend’s no friend if there’s no liking.’

‘I’d say you’ve got something there, Patsy.’

‘The point is, Pa, I’d like you to meet him,’ said Patsy.

‘Is that so?’

‘Well, I’ve met his Pa,’ said Patsy, ‘and his Ma.’

‘Is something going on?’

‘Is that a loaded question?’ asked Patsy.

‘No, an interested one.’

‘It’s just a friendship,’ said Patsy.

‘Bring him here Saturday afternoon, sometime before four,’ said her Pa, ‘and I’ll do what I can to get the friendship moving along.’

Patsy smiled.

‘It doesn’t need any help, Pa,’ she said.

Prior to their involvement in the war against Germany, American servicemen had known about the events in troublesome old Europe only from what they read in their newspapers or heard on their radios. Enlisted and trained once the USA was a belligerent, American airmen had arrived in the UK to find the conflict in the skies dangerously unhealthy, but in their Flying Fortresses they participated with all the vigour and panache of their
kind
. They took severe losses on the chin with rugged fortitude, even if they thought that daylight bombing raids on Germany were ninety-nine per cent suicidal. Off duty, and along with American infantrymen, they formed friendships with the natives, chatted up the dames, and handed out welcome gifts from their PX stores, including fully-fashioned stockings, canned goods and jars of peanut butter.

Britain was the base not only for Americans, but also for the Free Forces of Norway, Belgium, France and Poland. There were also Czechs, Dutch and other European men and women who had escaped the swarming Germans to continue the fight from the UK. And Canadian soldiers and airmen had been stationed in England and Scotland almost from the beginning of the war.

The Canadians were to join the Americans and British in the attempt to establish the Second Front, and one of de Gaulle’s Free French divisions was to follow on.

The unseasonal weather, blustery, chilly and unfriendly, meant that nerves at SHAEF (Supreme Headquarters of the Allied Expeditionary Force) were at a high pitch, starting with General Eisenhower himself, although Montgomery seemed as perky as a cockerel fresh at dawn. His outlook seemed to be on the lines of, ‘Never mind the weather, let’s get on with it and knock the blighters for six.’ Which meant clout them. The appointed American field commanders still had their own ideas about Monty.