Rising Summer (20 page)

He vanished and I put the eggs in a safe place. I heard the sound of an approaching car. I could have been caught napping with so much on my mind, but Jim’s warning had alerted me. I planted myself in the path of the vehicle as it reached the open gates. Its masked headlights were reduced to narrow wartime slits. But I knew it. It was Major Moffat’s Hillman. He’d have me shot if I didn’t challenge him.

‘Halt!’ I ordered loudly. The car stopped with my rifle nosing its radiator. I went round to the driver’s window which was open and asked for identification.

‘Major Moffat and Sergeant Masters,’ said the Major. So her overtime had been conducted in the Hillman, had it? I went prickly.

‘Recognize you, sir. Can’t recognize your passenger, sir. Can’t see her.’

I saw the gleam of his teeth. ‘Too bloody dark for your failing eyesight, is it?’ he hissed.

‘Sorry, sir, but must ask your passenger to present herself.’

‘Try going round and taking a look.’

I went round and pointed my rifle at the window
of
the passenger door. ‘Alight and be recognized!’ I hollered.

The window wound down and a face appeared beneath an American Wac cap. I switched on my torch. Kit looked up at me.

‘Yes, it’s me,’ she said. Then, in a whisper, ‘You big ape, you’re showing off.’

I glimpsed movement in the back of the car. ‘Sir,’ I called, ‘there’s another passenger.’

‘It’s Jupiter,’ said Kit. ‘Don’t shout at him or he’ll make a late night hamburger of you.’

The great retarded canine lump dribbled and growled.

‘Pass, friends and a dog,’ I said, getting out of the way and I thought the Major was actually grinning as he drove in. It did nothing for my depression. Life was giving me a hiding at the moment. On top of everything else, the female sergeant I fancied was getting thick with Major Moffat, who was making his own rules. He was ignoring the fact that it was seriously
verboten
for officers to socialize with other ranks, including sergeants. I ought to write an anonymous letter to Brigade Headquarters about him.

But did it matter?

Yes, it did. I’d got to stand up and fight.

It occurred to me then that I needed to talk to young Wally Ricketts.

The following afternoon, one rumour turned into fact with the official news that our American mates were definitely leaving us. On Saturday. At the end of my day’s work I went out of bounds by slipping into Kit’s
office.
I didn’t knock. Anything like the sound of a knock on an out-of-bounds door could alert all the wrong kind of people.

Only Kit was present. She was standing on a chair and unloading files from shelves. Her legs looked first-class. She glanced down at me.

‘You’re out of bounds,’ she said, ‘so at least close the door.’

I closed it. She continued pulling out files and dropping them into a large tea chest. Each time she reached her military stocking seams lengthened.

‘I’d offer to help,’ I said, ‘but I’d just as soon watch.’

‘Don’t overdo things, honey,’ she said.

‘Can I help it if I like your Wac stockings?’

More files dropped into the chest. ‘Be my guest,’ said Kit, ‘but don’t stand on your head to improve your view, it’s not decent, old buddy.’

‘You’re missing out on being human,’ I said.

‘Take that,’ said Kit and hit me over the head with a file.

‘Thanks. Where are Cecily and Cass?’

‘Cecily’s having a breakdown because we’re leaving tomorrow and Cassidy’s gone to ask Claud to do something about it. I’m tidying up.’

‘Well, you’re good at that. Did you enjoy yourself with Major Moffat last night?’

‘Yes, I met a Suffolk squire and his wife. We had dinner with them.’

‘Cute, was it?’ I asked.

‘Entertaining,’ said Kit and came down from the chair.

‘Exactly where are you moving to?’

‘To the new base at Chackford,’ she said.

‘That’s not far, about seventeen miles. All the same, it’s a blow.’

‘I guess it is, Tim.’ Kit smiled. ‘It’s been fun. I’ll miss our bike rides to Mary’s. Give her my love next time you see her. Tell her I’ll write. She’s a sweetie.’

‘Will I be getting a letter or two?’ I asked.

Kit regarded me quite affectionately. ‘Tim, you’re not trying to say you’re getting serious about me, are you?’

‘Well, I happen to be human. You don’t mind that, do you?’

‘I’m flattered,’ said Kit. ‘It really has been fun knowing you, but don’t get serious, honey. I honestly don’t think we’re made for each other.’

‘We could give it a bit of a go,’ I said.

‘Let’s just be good friends, mmm?’ said Kit.

‘That’s death,’ I said.

‘Buck up, old buddy. You should have taken a shine to Cassidy. She’s a real sweetie and she likes you.’

‘Oh, well, san fairy, too late now,’ I said.

‘Look, it has been special to me, the fun we’ve had, Tim. Don’t think I don’t appreciate that.’

‘Me too,’ I said. ‘Just good friends, then.’

‘See you,’ smiled Kit. ‘Anytime you’re near Chackford. And look me up in Boston when the war’s over.’

‘I’ll come for a weekend,’ I said.

Perhaps it was as well she hadn’t fallen into my arms. If I’d proposed and she’d said yes, what on earth could I have said to her if we’d found Minnie on the church steps with a baby in her arms?

There was a farewell party for the three Wacs in the pub that evening. On my way there, I knocked on the door of Mrs Lottie Ford’s cottage. She gave me a very nice smile.

‘Well, fancy you, Tim, I were just thinkin’ about where you might have got to just lately.’

‘Yes, nice bit of thinking, Lottie,’ I said. Lottie fussed with her hair. ‘Is young Wally around?’

A yell from the interior answered my question. A little girl’s yell.

‘That boy,’ said Lottie, shaking her head, ‘always treatin’ my Clara like she were a football.’

‘You could drown him I suppose and get a friend to say it was an accident. I’m a friend. I’ll stand by you.’ I raised my voice. ‘Wally! Come here!’

Out he came, his jersey rumpled, his hair all over the place, a grin on his face. ‘’Ello, Tim,’ he said. ‘Tim’s me mate,’ he said to Lottie.

‘Come here, mate,’ I said and took him down the street. ‘Now listen, monkey, you said you saw me with Minnie Beavers on rising summer night. Right?’

‘’Ere, I wasn’t lookin’ on purpose, yer know,’ he said. ‘I just seen yer, like.’

‘Yes, and exactly what did you see?’

‘Kissin’. Cor, ain’t yer well orf, Tim, kissin’ Minnie? Ain’t she pretty? I wouldn’t mind givin’ ’er some smackers meself.’

‘I bet you wouldn’t. Come on, what else did you see besides kissing? Own up, or I’ll slice you in half.’

‘Could yer let go me ear, Tim?’

‘Not yet. Let’s hear everything first.’

‘What d’yer mean, everything?’ he asked. ‘I just seen yer kissin’, then yer did a slide, then some Yank give me ’is boot.’

‘Gave you what?’ I asked.

‘Yer, so ’e did, the bleeder booted me up the bum. It didn’t ’arf ’urt. Then ’e told me to scoot, so I did. I wish I’d ’ad me ’ammer wiv me, then I’d ’ave ‘it ’im back.’

‘That’s the truth, Wally, is it?’

‘Course it is. Tim, d’yer want some more rabbits?’

‘Yes, in a week or so.’ I was due for leave again soon. On home service, leave came along four times a year. ‘All right, Wally, here’s a tuppence. I’ll let you know about the rabbits. Now scoot again, back home and stop chucking little Clara about.’

‘’Ere, she bites me ears, yer know,’ said Wally.

‘Glad to hear it. Buzz off now.’

‘Ta for the tuppence, Tim, I dunno I ever ’ad a mate good as you.’

Off he went and I walked on to the pub, still not sure what had happened after I’d slid to the ground that night.

The pub was packed with squaddies and GIs. The squaddies did a strong piece of work in keeping the GIs from making off with our Wacs, for the GIs were masters of social manoeuvres. Any girl was fair game to them, even if she was in the protective custody of her mum and dad. They could whip her away in record time.

However, we all stood our ground around Kit, Cassidy and Cecily, and Bombardier Wilkins had the honour of giving each of them a present we’d all subscribed to. English pottery. They were touched. Cassidy’s eyes, always bright with friendliness, turned quite moist. Top
Sergeant
Dawson and the two American officers had already departed, so Cassidy was able to hand out kisses of thanks to the nearest squaddies.

Kit was in a smiling mood, but Cecily looked a lot like I felt, as if there was no point in going on. Frisby kept dropping crumbs of comfort, but I thought that what Cecily wanted was the whole loaf. The uncertain twit was still worrying about whether or not he was the right kind of bloke for an American girl. Cecily actually liked England. Well, she liked Suffolk. She wasn’t a big-town girl. She was a natural for making Frisby a loving wife, not a bossy one. I thought that deep down she wanted a marriage of love and kindness, the opposite of what her parents had had.

She touched my arm. She had a gin and tonic in her hand, the same one she’d had all the time and she’d only drunk half of it.

‘Hello, Ciss.’

‘Hi, Tim.’ She grimaced. ‘I feel sick.’

‘What kind of sick?’

‘Oh, you know, I guess. Tim, do the guys like me?’

‘What a question. Of course they do. Look at them, can’t you see we’re all going to miss you? You’re one of us, you’re our mate, except you’re better-looking than we are.’

‘God, I wish I could stay,’ she said. ‘The base at Chackford is lousy with concrete and stacked to its roofs with a million uniforms.’

‘You’ll survive, Ciss, you’re a new woman and you’re nice as well. And Claud’11 come and see you, won’t he?’

‘God, he’d better,’ said Cecily.

‘The food will be an improvement, won’t it?’

‘Who’s hungry?’

‘You’re right, Ciss, the food here can ruin your appetite as well as your stomach. Still, you should get some good coffee and hamburgers at Chackford. That’ll lick your appetite back into shape.’

‘Sure, cheer me up,’ said Cecily. I put an arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze.

Cassidy turned up. ‘Who’s getting all the buckshee hugs?’ she asked, so I gave her a comradely squeeze too. Kit was enjoying laughs with Bombardier Wilkins and some ATS girls who had arrived to swell the party. The latter were soon collared by GIs and were lost to view for the rest of the evening.

‘Tim’s a nice guy,’ said Cecily.

‘Sure, I’m rooting for him too,’ said Cass.

Frisby pushed his way through. ‘Anyone seen Cecily?’ he asked. ‘I’ve lost her.’

‘This is me,’ said Cecily.

‘Well, d’you know, I was just thinking who’s that lovely Wac over here – good on you, Cecily, you’ll end up in Hollywood.’

‘Over my dead body I will,’ said Cecily.

The drink swam about. The squaddies began to sing ‘The Long And The Short And The Tall.’ The Wacs joined in. Frisby and I were sitting down at this stage, with Cecily perched on his knee and good old friendly Cass on mine. Kit, singing, gave me an encouraging smile.

The GIs came in next with ‘She’ll Be Coming Round the Mountain.’ And so it went on.

It was a good evening. We all had late passes and didn’t leave until the pub closed. Kit had an escort of ten squaddies. Cecily walked with Frisby and Cass walked with me, her arm tucked in mine. I think she was trying to make up for Kit being a disappointment to me and I think Kit was letting me see that Cass might be willing to be my American pen pal. I asked myself the same question. Did it matter?

Yes, it did. I was still alive and Minnie’s condition might be only a bad dream.

When we got to BHQ, I kissed Cass good night. She was very co-operative.

‘Who’s a kissing guy, then?’ she said. ‘I liked that.’

‘Mutual,’ I said.

‘You bet,’ said Cass.

‘See you off tomorrow,’ I said.

‘That’s my buddy,’ said Cass.

Along with several other squaddies and some ATS girls, I was there when the American girls were ready for the off the following morning. Major Moffat was also there, standing at the rear of the forecourt, hands behind his back, his dog squatting beside him. He didn’t interfere, nor did he order the gunners back to their work. He simply watched. Cass was handing out more kisses. The three Wacs were to be driven to Chackford in a jeep. Cecily refused to climb aboard. She seemed on the verge of dementia. Frisby was absent.

‘Where is he, Tim?’ she asked. ‘Oh, the lousy loser, he’s running out on me.’

‘No, I think Sergeant Johnson’s got him pinned down,’ I said.

‘Private Peterson!’ Kit was shouting from the jeep. She’d said her friendly goodbye to me. ‘Move yourself!’

Proper sergeant she was at this moment. But Cecily was deaf to her. ‘Oh, I can’t believe my guy could do this to me,’ she said.

Frisby, flushed with the shame of a soldier who had meant to duck it, suddenly materialized. Cecily’s mood improved dramatically and Kit conceded her a little extra time to say farewell. She pounced. Frisby quivered as she talked to him. She seemed agitated, he seemed to be saying nothing. But his mouth opened eventually and he delivered a few words. Cecily went dumb, stared at him, then flung her arms around him and in full view of various gunners and ATS girls and Major Moffat as well, glued her mouth to her doctor.

When that was over, Frisby said coherently, ‘Now don’t go off your rocker, scout.’

‘Oh, you cream cookie,’ said Cecily. ‘Can we live here, in Suffolk?’

‘No, Reigate,’ said Frisby. She didn’t argue. She was happy.

‘Wrap it up, Private Peterson,’ called Kit, ‘mount up.’

Cecily mounted the jeep with such reckless abandon that she was a treat to every manly eye. Frisby looked shocked at her leg show, but gave her a forgiving and fatherly nod when she blew him kisses. Without ever realizing what it would do to him, he’d done a first-class job on mixed-up Cecily.

Off they went. They waved. We waved. I felt the end
of
a chapter had arrived. Kit had said to drop in anytime I was near enough to the base, but I couldn’t see much point in that.