The Way Ahead (32 page)

‘We’ll still be seasick all the way,’ said an American commander.

Montgomery, perky, intimated that seasick men would be off their landing-craft like bats out of hell, and who could ask for more?

If Field Marshal Rommel suspected an imminent invasion attempt, he was confident it could be broken and beaten.

He advised the German High Command accordingly.

‘The main defence zone on the coast is strongly fortified and defended. There are large tactical and operational reserves in the rear areas. Thousands of pieces of artillery, anti-tank guns, rocket projectiles and flame throwers await the enemy. Millions of mines under water and on land lie in wait for him. In spite of the enemy’s great air superiority, we can face coming events with the greatest confidence.’

It was a fact, however, that this enormous defensive concentration was aimed at smashing Allied landings on the Pas de Calais coast, the German High Command having been convinced by subtle Allied machinations that that was the selected area.

It was another fact that the landings were to take place on the coast of Normandy, in an area well over one hundred and fifty miles south-east of Calais.

To 30 Corps and all other units under his direct command, Montgomery sent a personal message of
special
encouragement. He ended with this famous military quotation:

‘He either fears his fate too much,

Or his deserts are small,

Who dare not put to the touch,

To win or lose it all.’

Earlier that day, a letter dropped lightly on the mat of a house on Denmark Hill. Mrs Vi Adams picked it up. It was addressed to
Miss Adams
. Vi gave it to Alice.

‘It must be for you, love.’

‘There’s no address or stamp,’ said Alice.

‘It must have come by hand,’ said Vi.

Alice opened it.

Dear Miss Adams
,

I think I’d like to say sorry for pulling your leg when we ran into each other. Yes, there you are, sorry. I thought I’d drop you a line to apologize and to mention that if you’d like to change your mind about a visit to the Lyceum Ballroom any Saturday evening, I’d be willing to call for you. Or do you prefer the cinema?

Yours sincerely
,

Fergus MacAllister

‘Well, of all the nerve,’ said Alice, ‘look at that, Mum.’

She passed the letter to her mother, and Vi read it.

‘Alice, who’s Fergus MacAllister?’ she asked.

‘You know, that man from the Gas Board who fitted a new joint to the airing cupboard pipe,’ said Alice. ‘The man Dad said he knew about.’

‘Oh, that one,’ said Vi. ‘The one you didn’t like.’

‘Yes, and I met the gentleman near the library yesterday,’ said Alice.

‘What, by arrangement?’ said Vi, wondering if her daughter liked the man, after all, and had actually found an interest outside her studying.

‘Arrangement?’ Alice looked offended. ‘I should say not. I bumped into him by accident, worse luck, and as for going dancing with him, even if I had time for social activities of a recreational kind, I wouldn’t wish to share them with Mr MacAllister. He’s short of personal graces.’

Social activities of a recreational kind? Personal graces? Bless the girl, thought Vi, I hope all this studying isn’t making her old before her time.

‘Still, his letter has got a bit of grace to it,’ she said. ‘Alice, isn’t he the young man your dad said was wounded near Dunkirk and has got some shrapnel left in him?’

‘Yes, and I’m sorry about that, but I wasn’t given a chance to say so,’ complained Alice. ‘He said I talked like a sixteen-year-old girl training to be a preacher. Can you believe anyone could be so rude?’

Lord, what an odd thing to say to a girl, thought Vi. Mind, Alice was a bit formal at times, and didn’t have much in common with her cousins Annabelle and Emma, who’d both been happy to leave school at seventeen and sort of dance into the excitements of life.

‘Alice, I can’t believe the young man dislikes you if he wants to take you dancing,’ said Vi. ‘Still, you can decide for yourself, love, and let him know when you reply.’

‘I’m not going to reply,’ said Alice, ‘I’m simply going to ignore his letter.’

Vi, the most gentle of women and the most affectionate of mothers, for once felt a lack of sympathy with her daughter.

‘Now, Alice, if he was rude to you he’s been gracious enough to say he’s sorry,’ she said, ‘and I think you should be gracious enough to reply. And if you want to turn his invitation down, you can be gracious about that too. I won’t have you going about with your nose in the air.’

Alice stared at her mum. The rebuke, spoken so firmly, astonished her. Neither of her cockney parents had ever dressed her down like that.

‘Well, all right,’ she said, ‘I’ll write to him, then.’

‘Do it now, love,’ said Vi, and stood by while Alice composed a reply.

Dear Mr MacAllister
,

Thank you for your kind letter and for your apology, and I have no hard feelings. However, I really don’t have time for dancing or the cinema as I’m terribly busy studying the subject of English Literature. But thank you for asking me
.

Yours sincerely
,

Alice Adams

‘Yes, that’s gracious,’ said Vi, having read it.

Fergus MacAllister had given his address in Grove
Lane
, Camberwell, not far from Denmark Hill.

Vi posted the letter when she went shopping. Conditions were better for young people who did want to go dancing or to enjoy other forms of entertainment. Apart from the recent air raid, which had been very brief, London was being left alone by the Germans. Cinemas, theatres and dance halls were crowded most evenings, and trains, trams and buses carried people to and from the West End without having to worry about bombs.

Nor was the German High Command thinking in terms of orthodox assaults from the air. From Calais to Cherbourg, sites for the launching of rocket-powered bombs had been built, all pointing in the direction of London. These sites were being periodically attacked by the Allied Air Forces.

The Allied High Command knew something the people didn’t. The hope and prayer were that by dint of deadly accurate bombing, the people wouldn’t have that knowledge carried to them in a brutally practical way.

‘
HELLO THERE, HELLO
,’ breezed Mr Meredith Kirk, Patsy’s Pa, on Saturday afternoon. ‘I’m delighted to meet you, Daniel.’

‘Same here, Mr Kirk,’ said Daniel. The meeting was taking place in the living-room of the apartment, its double windows letting in the grey light of another cloudy and blustery day. June was playing up as if it had taken on a fit of stormy vexation. ‘I’ve heard a lot about you from Miss Kirk, your daughter.’

‘Miss Kirk?’ said Pa Kirk.

‘Patsy,’ said Daniel, ‘I just thought I ought to show good manners.’

‘That’s good manners, calling me Miss Kirk?’ said Patsy.

‘I’m not against it,’ said Pa Kirk.

‘It’s a hoot,’ said Patsy, ‘but Daniel’s like that sometimes. Kind of eccentric. Well, most times, actually. Don’t take too much notice, Pa.’

‘Eccentric?’ said Pa Kirk, a handsome man of forty-five with a deep baritone. ‘In the way of the English?’

‘In the way of Daniel Adams,’ said Patsy, ‘but I don’t let it bother me. I’m a good-natured girl guy.’

Pa Kirk smiled.

‘Is that how you find Patsy, Daniel?’ he asked. ‘A good-natured girl guy?’

‘Well, to be frank, Mr Kirk,’ said Daniel, ‘your daughter’s got funny ideas about who sits on the carrier when we’re riding her bike. I’ve told her that in this country, fellers sit on the saddle, girls on the carrier, otherwise one of our old native customs goes to pot.’

Patsy shrieked.

‘Told you, Pa, didn’t I tell you? He’s a kook, and an old-fashioned one.’

‘Let’s discuss it,’ said Pa Kirk genially. ‘Take a seat, Daniel, and if Patsy would serve us coffee, I guess we could kick a few British and American customs around, and then I’d like to hear what you think about the war generally. I’d be interested in a young man’s point of view and include it in my newscast tonight.’

Daniel spent a couple of very entertaining hours with Patsy’s gregarious dad and Patsy herself, and he delivered himself of his opinions on the war, which he eventually said would never have come about if his paternal grandma could have had half an hour alone with Hitler as far back as the time of Munich. She was a good old rousing London cockney, and wouldn’t have thought twice about knocking Hitler off his mountain balcony once he started to bawl at her. Pa Kirk wanted to know more about this redoubtable cockney lady, and Daniel supplied the works, along with
anecdotal
asides concerning what she thought about his dad’s pre-war rag trade involvement with the manufacture and sale of ladies’ underwear. Namely, decidedly improper, which made Patsy fall about.

Pa Kirk had to leave at five-thirty for his evening commitments in town. He said goodbye to Daniel and hoped he’d see more of him. Patsy went down to the front door with him.

‘So what d’you think of my fun guy, Pa?’ she asked.

‘Clean as a whistle, Patsy, a fine young man, and amusing,’ said Pa Kirk.

‘I think I’m getting a crush,’ said Patsy.

‘Well, don’t fight it, honey,’ said Pa Kirk. ‘You can take it from me, you could do a hell of a lot worse for your first boyfriend at this time in your life.’

‘Thanks, Pa,’ said Patsy.

She and Daniel went to the cinema in the evening, while clouds tumbled about in the sky, the Channel waters tossed, and landing craft were brought to loading points.

Patsy sat with her knee touching Daniel’s knee, and felt remarkably happy. On the upper deck of the darkened bus going home, she whispered a comment.

‘Pa says he doesn’t mind you’re English.’

‘I don’t mind, either,’ said Daniel. ‘Well, I was born that way, and a feller’s got to honour his birthright.’

‘D’you know how loopy you sound sometimes?’

‘I don’t mind that, either,’ said Daniel. ‘My
cousin
Emma told me once that our Uncle Boots is convinced that everyone’s a bit barmy, and she thought that sort of reassuring. Well, at the time she was a bit potty herself.’

‘Potty? Potty?’

‘Dotty,’ said Daniel. ‘About a Sussex bloke. She married him later. She said if she didn’t, she’d end up being certified.’

Patsy linked arms with him, and whispered again.

‘Daniel, I like you, I really do.’

‘Well, I like you too, Patsy.’

‘Really like me?’

‘On my oath,’ said Daniel.

‘On your oath? That’s wacky,’ murmured Patsy. ‘Oh, well, can’t be helped, and next time we ride my bike together, you can sit on the saddle and I’ll sit on the carrier.’

‘You sure?’ said Daniel.

‘Sure I’m sure,’ said Patsy, ‘I’ve decided I don’t mind observing one of your old and quaint English customs. Help,’ she added, ‘I hope it won’t turn me old and quaint myself.’

‘Who cares, as long as the war’s over by Christmas?’ said Daniel.

The bus dropped them off, and he walked her to her front door in the light of a half-sized moon. There he told her he’d enjoyed meeting her good old Pa and taking her to the cinema. Patsy said she’d invite him up, only it was late and she knew her Pa wouldn’t like her to be alone with a guy at this time of night. Daniel asked what kind of a guy.

‘What kind?’ said Patsy. ‘Your kind. I bet I’d have to yell for help.’

Daniel laughed.

‘Goodnight, Patsy,’ he said, ‘see you again.’

‘Hey, wait a moment, don’t I get a kiss?’ demanded Patsy.

‘Oh, nearly forgot,’ said Daniel, and kissed her. Somehow, it was a new kind of kiss, and Patsy experienced exciting little vibrations unknown before.

‘Daniel – oh, I never liked anything as much as that,’ she said.

‘Same here, me too,’ said Daniel, ‘we’ll do it again next time I see you home. You’re sweet. So long, Patsy.’

‘No, wait,’ said Patsy. ‘Daniel, d’you mean this is the beginning of a long and faithful friendship?’

‘That’s it,’ said Daniel, ‘be faithful and keep other fellers off your doorstep.’

‘I will, I really will,’ said Patsy. ‘Goodnight, Daniel.’

‘Goodnight, Patsy.’

Daniel walked home through the moonlight. The surging clouds had gone, although the night was still blustery. At SHAEF in London, the word ‘Go’ was still the operative one for when midnight had passed and the sixth of June had begun.

Of all things, earnest Miss Alice Adams, whose mind constantly dwelt on the fulfilling years of university life to come, dreamt that she was nowhere near any seat of learning. She was running in panic through endless woods, her limbs leaden, her running reduced to slow motion. Behind her loomed a dark figure, and each time she turned her head, the villainous face of a pirate grinned at her, white
teeth
huge. Thorns reached to rip and shred her dress, and an evil chuckling voice reached for her ears.

‘Hold there, me young beauty, hold there and come aboard, won’t ye?’

‘Never! Never!’

Her legs could hardly carry her, his hot breath fanned the back of her neck, and her shredded dress fell off. In front of her loomed a black pit. She tumbled into it and found herself sitting at a table writing a letter. She looked up and there he was, in a kilt this time. She screamed and woke up. She was hot all over, but she breathed in deep relief.

Oh, you wait, Fergus MacAllister, next time I see you I’ll push your rotten face in.

That was drastic for Alice.

Fergus, asleep in his lodgings in Grove Road, Camberwell, woke up himself, a dull ache in his ribcage.

Aye, that’s the bloody shrapnel getting a wee bit restless again, he thought. Then he wondered why he had an oddly compulsive interest in a young lady so serious that she never smiled. A challenge? Perhaps.

There had been two brief letters for him during the day. One was from his father in Aberdeen.

Come home, Fergus. You belong up here, not down there. What are you doing, for God’s sake, working as a maintenance mechanic for a gas company? There’s a position for you in our sheet metal company as manager, you know that. Come home
.