Sisters at War Read online

  ‘Of course it’s not, sweetheart. If it was you who needed to be flown home, I’d come. So you must understand why I need to do this.’

  Cissie cocked her head. ‘That doesn’t sound real, it sounds pretend.’

  Anne took her. ‘I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about, but if you’re taking off, get Percy to swing the propeller. He’s cleaning our windows, and then he said he was heading for the Lodge to do yours.’

  Final problem solved. ‘Can you get him to come to the landing strip straightaway. I’m going ahead to the hangar to fuel and do the preflight.’

  Within half an hour she was flying over the Devon coast heading for Jersey, waggling her wings above the ack-ack. She held her breath. No one fired. The flight with the wind behind her would take just over an hour. It was a warm day, but at this height it was cold, and the wind dried her skin and lips. Before long she had reached Jersey, and followed the road to the farm. All the time she scanned the skies, ever alert, not knowing what she’d do if she saw a German aircraft. Her hands were sweating. Well, she was sweating all over.

  In short order she was coming in to land. She saw her mother and Hannah, and Uncle Thomas. Good, he could swing the propeller, but there were two others. Had they come to see them off? She throttled back, down, down, glad of something to concentrate on instead of the accusatory reaction of the inhabitants of Combe Lodge when next she saw them. Thankfully, Adam and Eric were still in Portsmouth, and Eddie away, so they might never know.

  She switched off, watching the elderly couple standing with her mother. Bryony waved Hannah and her mother across, calling, ‘Hurry up, I don’t want to wait a moment more than I have to.’

  Her mother came to the aeroplane, and called up, ‘Mr and Mrs Sobell need to come instead of Hannah. Mrs Sobell must go to Southampton, where there’s a good hospital. I feel ashamed I wouldn’t take the evacuees, Bee. Uncle Thomas told me. I’m so proud that you have, in my place.’

  ‘But your health, Mum? I thought you were worried and wanted to see your own doctor?’

  ‘I’m the same as always. Jersey suits me, it always has. I don’t know where you got that idea.’

  Hannah was standing with her arms crossed, her brow furrowed, her eyes red. Uncle Thomas came to stand with her mother, who said to Hannah, ‘Bryony will come back for you tomorrow, or the next day, won’t you, Bee? You can see we have to do this, Hannah. Mrs Sobell is not at all well.’

  Uncle Thomas now helped Mrs Sobell into the passenger cockpit just in front of Bryony, and then the old man into the third seat, ‘Quick as you like, please, Mr Sobell. Bee needs to hurry. Who knows . . . Oh, well, let’s just hurry.’

  ‘I’ll try to come back,’ she said. ‘But Adam hasn’t nearly got the Sunflower finished so please, Hannah, try to book on a boat first, because we might not be able to get her going and . . . Oh, never mind, just try. Mrs Sobell, tie your scarf around your head. It will be breezy. Mr Sobell, I’d remove your hat if you want it when we land.’ Uncle Thomas was checking their straps.

  Hannah glowered. ‘Just fly in again, for heaven’s sake. You could do it today, if you tried.’

  There was no way Bryony was going to say in the hearing of Mr and Mrs Sobell that Eddie had quite rightly embargoed any flying.

  She just said, ‘Take it or leave it, Hannah. If I come at all, I’ll come by boat.’ Her hand itched to shake this selfish little besom.

  Uncle Thomas leaned into her cockpit, whispering harshly. ‘For God’s sake, you shouldn’t have come, you know damned well you shouldn’t. Blasted girl, you shouldn’t let her manipulate you. I bet she’s spun you some story.’ He put up his hand. ‘I know, I know, your father said to look after them, but I don’t want to hear that again.’

  She asked, ‘Is Mum really just the same?’

  Uncle Thomas just looked at her. ‘The doc says she’s doing well. He’s pleased with her. Why?’

  Bryony looked past him to Hannah, who met her gaze with tear-filled eyes, before turning away. ‘Peter’s gone,’ she shouted. ‘It’s not damn well fair.’

  Uncle Thomas nodded. ‘Yes, and he didn’t have the grace to tell her. Bad do, but she will always make such a scene, which is probably why. Doesn’t alter the fact that you shouldn’t have come, it’s dangerous.’

  Bryony was searching the sky and called Hannah over. She raised her voice over the engine. ‘Tell me the truth,’ she said. ‘Mum’s all right, isn’t she, so it’s about Peter? If you come back will you promise hand on heart to go to college and stop all of this nonsense. It’s time you grew up. I’ve spoilt you for too long.’

  When Hannah shouted back, her tone was different. It was sad, bewildered. She said, ‘Why couldn’t Peter tell me? I loved him, and he made a fool of me.’

  Bryony didn’t answer, for there was real pain in her sister’s voice and she felt defeated knowing she had helped to create this person that Hannah now was.

  ‘I want to come home, Bee, where I belong. I promise I’ll go to college, and do well, if you promise to come back tomorrow, if not tonight. The boats are full, and you can’t take a lot of stuff anyway, and I have all my paintings. Dad said you’d always be here for me.’

  Her uncle was working his way round to the front, waiting for Bryony’s signal. She called to Hannah. ‘Be at the cove, we’ll come in that way, if not tomorrow, the next day, even the next, if at all possible, or wait at the house. I’ll find you. Remember those words, “if at all possible”. She gave her uncle the signal. He swung the propeller, the engine caught.

  She taxied round and into the wind, waved, and built up her speed, then was up in the air. Once up high, she circled, waggled her wings, leaned over and waved. Her mother and Uncle Thomas looked so small, and Hannah too. She flew over the farmhouse, and the potato fields. She waggled her wings at it all.

  She flew home.

  Hannah watched her go, then walked off, leaving her mother and Uncle Thomas to follow. Slowly she began to feel better because soon she’d be in England. If she found out where Peter was from his parents, it would be easy to track him down once she was on the mainland. She could paint wherever she was, so she wouldn’t really be breaking her promise about college, and if she lived with a soldier, it would make her grow up, which, after all, was what everyone was going on about.

  Chapter Eight

  Bryony approached Combe Lodge landing strip, riding the wind that was buffeting the little biplane. She peered over the edge of the cockpit, and down below saw Adam waiting by the gate leading into the landing area. His arms were akimbo, the tilt of his head indicative of rage. Her hands tightened on the controls. Well, what did she expect? She looked instead at the hangar. Yes, the camouflage had done its job and now it pretty much blended into the trees that edged up to the rear and both sides. She snatched another look at Adam as she came round into the wind.

  He still stood at the gate, watching. She forced herself to concentrate on the business in hand, reducing speed, steady, slow, slow. She didn’t need to check the instruments, she had grown up with the sounds of the engine, the wind, and knew it as well as she knew herself. Soon, and as always, the ground seemed to be coming up to meet them, rather than the aircraft coming to it, as she touched down.

  She bounced, once. Then the Tiger Moth settled. She cursed. It was the hardest thing in the world to bounce a Tiger. She gritted her teeth as she slowed, then turned, trundling over the grass towards the hangar, taking a wide sweep so she could turn again to face away from the opening. She could then shove it backwards into the hangar. Would Adam help her? If not, who?

  She stopped. Switched off. Undid her straps, removed her helmet, shook out her hair. The sun was hot, the wind which had roared against her at height was a pussycat of a breeze down here. She did not look anywhere but ahead, because Adam was walking away without a backward glance.

  The Sobells unstrapped themselves, and she helped each of them down. Mr Sobell rammed on his hat, put down his small case and hugged her tightly. ‘Y
ou have probably saved my wife’s life, you and your family. How can I ever thank you all?’

  Bryony smiled and patted his back. ‘Perhaps by letting me go, I’m not sure I can breathe.’ They all laughed. She said, ‘Now, we have to get you both to Southampton, and I’m not sure how.’

  She led them from the field, taking the hundred-yard path to the Lodge. They traipsed through the trees on the cinder path which became claggy in the wet, but today was just crisp. She often wondered if it wouldn’t be better to lay gravel instead, but never did anything about it. It was where they had always spread the fire and range ash at her father’s suggestion, and so it would always be. It was this she explained to her passengers, anything other than think of Adam. They came out into the wild flower garden, which was at its best, then on past the herbaceous beds. Usually the walk back to the house grounded her, and gave her time to lift a few weeds, and deadhead. But today she had forgotten her secateurs in her haste to head for Jersey.

  At the back of the house, Adam waited. He was smiling at Mr and Mrs Sobell. ‘I have ordered a taxi for you which will take you to the station in time for the Southampton train. I gather from Thomas that is the final destination. He managed to reach my mother a short while ago. She sent a message to the boatshed. Is this one bag your luggage?’

  Mr Sobell said, ‘We stay frequently in our holiday home in Jersey, and keep clothes there. My wife has cancer, and we fear . . . Well, we need to see her specialist. Thanks to Hannah and Mrs Miller, we were able to return to England quickly.’ He was grey with worry. Adam was urging them along to the front of the house and not once had he looked at Bryony, who returned to the hangar

  So that’s how they knew. Well, thank you, Uncle Thomas. Now it was Cissie who waited for her hopping from foot to foot at the end of the path. Bryony braced herself for coldness from the child too, but instead Cissie rushed towards her, flinging her arms around her hips, pressing her face into her stomach, saying, as Bryony held her close, ‘They’re so cross wiv you, but that’s because they’re scared. I can see it, because I’m cross and scared too.’ She was crying, pressing herself closer and closer to Bryony. She pulled away, wiping her face with the back of her hand, and then she kicked Bryony, hard on the shin. ‘I hope that hurt, because you hurt us.’

  It did hurt. Bryony looked down at her overalls. They were wet where Cissie had cried, and there was an ash print where she’d kicked her. The child was stalking away, towards the Tiger Moth. Bryony called after her, ‘It did hurt my shin, and I’m sorry I hurt you, Cissie. Sorry I hurt you all. Come back.’

  Cissie reached the Tiger Moth, and kicked one of the wheels. ‘That’s for you too, you bugger.’ She now stood with her arms crossed, shaking her head, her back to Bryony.

  Bryony joined her. ‘You shouldn’t swear.’

  ‘You do.’

  Bryony put her arm around the child’s shoulders. ‘Only when I’m really angry or upset.’

  ‘Well?’

  ‘Look at it another way: this dear old aircraft brought me home safely.’

  Adam’s voice was loud, and he was right behind her. She did wish he’d stop doing that. ‘You were bloody lucky, Bryony, and what’s more, you promised you wouldn’t. You knew you shouldn’t go, but oh no, Hannah crooks her little finger, and because you think you are a knight in shining armour, and no one can look after her but you, you fly to the rescue. You’re a bloody fool, Bryony Miller. Now get the other side of the damned plane so we can shove her back in.’

  Cissie stared up at Adam, then at Bryony. ‘He’s really really cross, and he’s really really ’urt too. Listen to ’im swearing.’

  Adam ruffled her hair. ‘Everything will be all right, you run along and ask April to put the kettle on, there’s a good girl.’

  She did, and together Adam and Bryony pushed in the Tiger Moth, then closed the massive doors. Adam dragged the chain through the handles, and clicked the padlock shut, removing the key. Bryony put out her hand but he shook his head. ‘Even April is furious, and she telephoned Eddie about it. His orders are for me to confiscate the key. You’ve gone too far this time, Bee.’

  They walked back to the house. At least he had called her Bee, but that was the best of it, because in the kitchen April said, ‘You’ve let us down. You could have been killed. What’s more, you betrayed our trust.’ The whole evening the atmosphere was sullen with fury, and shock.

  Bryony telephoned Uncle Thomas, thinking that the cable should route them through automatically, so often were they calling one another. She let him know she was home, and he was cool too. ‘I didn’t know that you were flying behind their backs, and for what? A spoilt child.’

  ‘For my family, Uncle Thomas,’ she cried. ‘It was for Mum, too. Hannah still wants to come home to get her life sorted, and I promised her I would fetch her.’

  ‘Well, ask Adam to come by boat.’ The telephone went dead. He’d hung up. She said into the emptiness, ‘But anyway, I’ve already said it would be by sea, so there.’ She felt about five.

  She put Cissie to bed, and read her a story. When she finished, Cissie said, ‘You can go back to your own room to sleep, Bee, because I don’t want you in here with me.’ The child turned over, and lay with her back to Bryony, who kissed her head, stroking her hair for a moment. ‘Sleep well, and I can stay if you change your mind.’

  Cissie murmured, ‘Nah, I’d keep waking to see if you were still there because you might go in the night, like you did today. So this way I’ll know you’re not there and I won’t check.’

  ‘I’ll come if you call and stay with you,’ Bryony said.

  ‘So will April, or Adam, or Anne or Catherine, like they all stayed with me this afternoon.’

  In her own room Bryony sat on the bed, staring out at the evening sky, She wanted her father to be alive, so he could look after his family. She wanted to have been here for this troubled child.

  The bed sagged as someone sat beside her. She knew it was Adam. He said nothing, and did nothing.

  She said, ‘I don’t know what’s the right thing to do any more for Hannah. She wants to come home, and she said Mum did too, but Mum doesn’t. I think Hannah will go to college, I think she’ll grow up. I promised her we’d go back for her in the Sunflower.’

  He sighed. ‘For God’s sake, Bee, she can get a place on a boat, and anyway, the Nazis won’t want the Channel Islands, why would they? They’ll come straight for the big peach – us. So why bring her back here, into danger?’

  ‘But we can’t know that, and I repeat, she wants to come home, and she says the boats are full, and anyway, she has so much to bring.’

  ‘That’s what she says but wake up, Bee. She’s always got an answer, whether it’s an honest one or not is another matter.’

  ‘But I promised.’

  He stood up. ‘The Sunflower engine refit isn’t finished.’

  She looked up at him. ‘It could be a test run for it.’

  Hannah couldn’t wait any longer to hear so she telephoned Bryony from the farmhouse at the afternoon on the 28th. She shut the door between the hall and the kitchen, so her aunt and mother wouldn’t hear. Bryony answered, and replied to her question, ‘Hannah, I just don’t know if we can. Please try to get on a passenger boat now, today, leave everything behind. You can produce more paintings, I’ll find other easels. Telephone me to say it’s sorted. To finish the refit Adam has to work through the night or maybe the next two, and he’s just told me he has to report for duty in five days. He’s quite better, he says, but he isn’t. I can still hear him wheezing, and what’s more, the Sunflower is an old girl, the engine has taken a bashing, so who knows if she’ll make it.’

  Hannah felt the irritation rising. She said, ‘You promised. The German planes have been really busy today, flying over, some really low. If you don’t hear from me, you’ll know I’ll be at the cove most of the day tomorrow. If the Sunflower breaks down, then come again. Dad trusted you.’ She put the telephone down. Bryony just had no idea ab
out artists. She couldn’t create more paintings, just like that, and what about her clothes, and her easels which bore smudges of paint, and were hers, through and through. God, she hoped Bee hurried because she’d discovered from Mrs Andrews that Peter was at Aldershot. She’d surprise him once she was on the mainland.

  She hushed Rosie, who was barking as another plane flew over, very low. Its roaring seemed to fill the house. She entered the kitchen. ‘I’ll take her for a walk,’ she told her mother. Her aunt and mother had turned up the volume on the wireless, as they always did to drown out the sound of the planes. They were busy with the jam making and just nodded. Her uncle was down at the harbour so she set off, keeping Rosie on the lead. She cut across fields, thinking of Peter, and the party planned by Sylvia and Cheryl tomorrow. Well, she wouldn’t be here and she didn’t mind, because Cheryl slept around, which was not quite right, though she wasn’t sure if Sylvia did too.

  She strolled along the edge of the fields for an hour and then took the path letting Rosie sniff and explore the verge. There were orchids hidden amongst the grass, and she’d see if there were any on the verge. She clambered over the stile and took to the road. The sky looked thunderous, and clouds blocked out the sun and there was a heaviness as though it might rain.

  She called Rosie to her and was wondering whether to turn back when she heard an explosion, then another, and another, and she searched the countryside, confused. Explosions? What? The earth seemed to tremble. Fear broke over her like a wave. Rosie wrenched at the lead, barking, whining and cringing, then she leapt forward, the hair lifting up along her spine. Hannah screamed, ‘Rosie, stop!’

  She clung to the lead, fighting for balance and now, in the distance, she saw the German planes over the harbour, and there were small black things, falling . . . What? Bombs? Yes, that’s what they must be. She broke into a sweat, not knowing what to do, where to go. A plane roared across the sky above her, then another, and, yes, there were more bombs falling, near the harbour, where Uncle Thomas had gone to unload the lorry full of potatoes. Ahead of her, she saw smoke billowing, and then heard a roaring behind her. She pulled Rosie close, but it was Old Davy taking a lorry to St Helier for Peter’s father.