Dead to Me

  ‘Hey! You girls look gorgeous,’ Luke exclaimed as he came out into the garden to see the girls and Wilby enjoying a gin and tonic.

  Brian had opened the front door to Luke and Bevan, and in a few seconds had managed to tell them it was roast lamb for dinner tomorrow and that he could jitterbug now. Only then did he lead them to the garden.

  Ruby was wearing a green and white striped dress made by Verity from some material Wilby had stashed away. With a green ribbon in her hair she really did look gorgeous.

  Verity was wearing a pink dress she’d had for years, but she’d revamped it with a white lace ruffle around the neckline.

  Ruby leapt to her feet to greet Luke with a kiss, and Verity smiled shyly at Bevan.

  ‘How are things with you?’ Bevan said, coming right over to her chair and crouching down in front of her. ‘I’ve missed you.’

  Verity really liked the way he had of making the person he was speaking to feel they were the most important person in the world. He looked leaner, and his face was no longer very red and shiny the way it had been when they first met.

  ‘Very good now,’ she said. ‘It was all a bit nightmarish, but that’s all over now. I’m back up telegraph poles, and trying to learn to jitterbug. Ruby is brilliant at it, as are Colin and Brian, I’m sure Brian told you that! I’m lagging well behind.’

  ‘Brian did tell me, along with the menu for tomorrow. But I’m a disaster at the jitterbug too,’ he laughed. ‘Give me a waltz any day.’

  Wilby asked if the boys would like a gin and tonic or a beer. They plumped for beer.

  ‘What a lovely evening it is,’ Wilby said as she brought the beers out from the kitchen. ‘Usually in late May it tends to be very chilly. Certainly not sitting in the garden after seven o’clock weather. Now where are you young people off to tonight?’

  ‘We thought we’d take the girls to the town hall dance. The Star Lights are playing, a really good swing band,’ Luke said.

  Verity nudged Bevan. ‘Look at Ruby’s face. If he’d said we were going to sit on rusty barbed wire all evening, she’d be just as happy.’

  Bevan smiled. ‘Those two have got it bad. He talks about her all the time back at the base.’

  ‘Ruby’s the same,’ Verity said. ‘Anyway, to change the subject, how is Bristol?’

  ‘We like being stationed there more than East Anglia. As far as Luke’s concerned that’s because it’s closer to here. But it’s near home too, so I get to see my folks every couple of weeks. I really hope we get to stay there.’

  Half an hour later they left the house to catch the bus into Torquay. Almost every man on the bus was in uniform, and there was a lot of friendly rivalry between the different forces, which resulted in them taking the rise out of one another.

  Ruby and Verity were content to be entertained by it, and it suddenly occurred to Verity that she felt really happy and glad to be out for the evening.

  She had tended to blush every time she thought back to the conversation with Ruby that night after they’d got a bit drunk. She still found it hard to believe she’d actually spoken of what Archie had done to her. But she was glad she had, for it had laid a ghost, and she’d felt much easier in her mind since.

  What amazed her most, though, was how much she had been looking forward to seeing Bevan again. He had taken her hand as they walked to the bus stop, and it felt good. He’d always been easy to be with, quick, funny and never intense about things. It was so good not to feel she needed to run away and hide.

  As the band broke into the last number of the evening, Glenn Miller’s ‘That Old Black Magic’, and the lights were lowered, everyone in the town hall got on to the dance floor. It had been perhaps the best night Verity ever remembered, with great music, a wonderful atmosphere and a fun partner who had made her laugh more than was good for her. When she looked over Bevan’s shoulder, she saw Luke and Ruby wrapped in each other’s arms, looking so sublimely happy it made her feel quite emotional.

  But Bevan was holding her tightly too, his cheek against hers, and it felt right.

  ‘Happy?’ he murmured. ‘It’s been such a lovely evening. I don’t want it to end.’

  ‘Nor me,’ Verity sighed. ‘But it’s a long walk home, uphill all the way. So I might be glad when that’s over.’

  ‘You seem different tonight,’ he said. ‘I can’t quite put my finger on what the difference is, but there’s something.’

  She put her hand gently on his cheek. ‘Things becoming resolved perhaps? Feeling I’ve shrugged off a burden. I don’t know what’s different either, but I like how I feel.’

  ‘One day we’ll sit down and talk about what you went through, because I’d like to understand fully,’ he said. ‘But it’s not a subject for a night like this, not when I’m burning to kiss you.’

  His lips touched hers as lightly as a butterfly’s wing and the delicacy of it sparked something inside her. His lips were so soft and warm, playing with hers, the tip of his tongue darting into her mouth and sending little tremors down her spine.

  Kissing him had never been like this before, she’d always wanted to break away, and she’d never felt that strange and wonderful tugging sensation in her belly before.

  ‘Hmmm,’ Bevan said as the big lights came on and the MC was reminding them to take care going home. ‘So much for the old black magic, it kind of disappears when the lights come on.’

  ‘I don’t know about that,’ she said, nuzzling her lips against his cheek. ‘It still feels pretty magical to me.’

  Verity woke early on Saturday morning, stretched and smiled to herself as she remembered the events of the night before. Her lips felt a little tender from all the kissing on the way home, and she was excited about Luke and Bevan coming to lunch today.

  The last thing Ruby had said before they both fell asleep was that Luke had asked her to marry him, so if they were intending to tell Wilby today, it would turn into a celebration.

  ‘This looks scrumptious,’ Bevan said as Verity and Ruby carried the vegetable dishes into the dining room.

  ‘The new potatoes and carrots are straight from the garden,’ Verity said. ‘But we thought you’d like some roast potatoes too, Wilby’s are just the best.’

  The table looked very pretty with Wilby’s best glasses and the silver cutlery, two small flower arrangements with white daisies and pink rosebuds, and pale pink and white napkins.

  Wilby blushed a little at the praise for her roast potatoes, although she would probably have claimed her flushed face was just the heat from the oven, and she proceeded to carve the lamb.

  ‘I can’t believe you actually got a whole leg of lamb,’ Ruby said in wonder. ‘How?’

  ‘Friends in high places,’ Wilby said, tapping her nose and laughing. ‘Actually, he’s a friend in a low place, this lamb got injured and so it had to be put down.’

  ‘Sounds like a tall story!’ Luke said. ‘But even if you claimed it had flown into your garden asking to be cooked, I’d believe it, because I haven’t seen that much meat since before the war.’

  Wilby started to carve the meat, and Luke stood up. ‘I’ve got an announcement to make,’ he said. ‘Last night I asked Ruby to marry me and she accepted. I hope that meets with your approval, Wilby?’

  ‘Oh, Luke, how wonderful!’ Wilby said, clapping her hands and pretending total surprise. ‘It certainly does meet with my approval.’ She beamed at him and Ruby, who was sitting next to him. ‘I suggest we all raise our glasses to toast the happy couple.’

  The wine was Wilby’s home-made raspberry wine, which had a kick like a mule, and needed to be diluted a little. But for once even Brian and Colin were allowed a tiny amount, topped up with lemonade.

  ‘Will the wedding be this summer?’ Brian asked. ‘You get extra rations to make a wedding cake, I think.’

  Everyone laughed. Brian’s love of cake was legendary.

  ‘I hope it will be soon,’ Wilby said. ‘A summer wedding with the reception in the garden would
be lovely. You could wear my wedding dress, I’m sure Verity could alter it to fit you properly.’

  Ruby looked as if she could burst with happiness. ‘We aren’t sure when it can be. It depends on when, and if, Luke can arrange leave.’

  ‘I’m going to speak to the CO when we get back to base tonight,’ Luke said. ‘And Bevan, will you be my best man?’

  ‘I thought you’d never ask,’ Bevan said.

  As they ate the meal the conversation was all about the wedding: who would be invited; where Luke’s parents and siblings would stay. Ruby said she wanted only one bridesmaid and that, of course, would be Verity.

  Weddings in wartime meant there could be no extravagance, with so many foodstuffs unavailable or rationed. Most brides settled for a tiny cake, perched on a false one made of cardboard. But Wilby assured them she had a few items tucked away to make sure they had a good spread.

  After the wonderful lunch they went for a walk along the Downs before the men had to return to Bristol.

  ‘I wish we hadn’t got to go back to base,’ Bevan said to Verity.

  ‘We can do it all again next time,’ she said. ‘It was the very best fun.’

  ‘You know what was best for me?’ Bevan said, taking hold of her forearms and turning her to face him.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Seeing you really laugh, happiness coming from inside you. It would be great if it was me that caused it. But I’m not kidding myself with that one. You’ve been through hell and come out the other side, that’s what’s done it. You’ll be fine now.’

  ‘You are a lovely man, Bevan,’ she said, kissing him on the cheek.

  ‘And you, Verity, are a delight,’ he said with a wide grin. ‘We’ve got to go now. But till the next time, keep smiling.’

  Verity was indeed smiling as she waved goodbye to the men. She really did feel she might never stop.

  Shortly after Wilby and Ruby had come back from morning service at church the next morning, the doorbell rang.

  Wilby was just taking her coat and hat off upstairs. ‘Who on earth can that be?’ she called out.

  Verity had stayed behind to get the lunch on, and to look after Brian and Colin. ‘Can you get it, Ruby?’ she shouted out. ‘I’m making the gravy.’

  Verity heard Ruby say she would, and then the sound of the door opening, but she took no interest, assuming it was just a neighbour.

  Suddenly aware someone had come into the kitchen, Verity turned from the kitchen sink, to see Miller.

  ‘Good God!’ she exclaimed.

  ‘No, it’s only me,’ he said. ‘God tends to be busy on Sundays.’

  Verity was astounded. She had thought she’d never see him again, and she had felt very bad about the way things had ended between them.

  Ruby was standing just behind Miller, making silly faces.

  ‘What brings you here?’ Verity asked. ‘Ruby, please go away.’

  ‘Going, going,’ Ruby said, walking backwards into the hall.

  ‘Sorry about that,’ Verity said. ‘She can be a bit of a clown. But what does bring you here?’

  ‘I decided I had to fight for you,’ he said. ‘Well, perhaps “fight” is the wrong word. Perhaps “woo” you?’

  ‘But you said you’d given up on me,’ she said, feeling a little tremor of excitement in her belly. He was wearing a very smart grey suit. She’d never seen him in anything but old tweed or corduroy jackets before. He looked very handsome.

  ‘We all say things sometimes that we don’t actually mean. I did mean it at the time of writing, but then I thought about what you’d been through with Archie, and I decided I’d come down again and see how you are now. You can tell me to go, if nothing’s changed for you.’

  Wilby came downstairs then and greeted Miller warmly, saying he must stay for lunch and asking him where he was staying. Ruby joined in then, as did Colin and Brian who wanted to show him a Hurricane model aeroplane they were making.

  ‘The consensus of opinion seems to be that you are staying for lunch,’ Verity said.

  Miller looked at her and smiled, and she remembered how taken she had been by his lovely duck-egg-blue eyes when they first met.

  Verity was quite glad that they weren’t left alone together, not because she wasn’t pleased to see him – she was – but just because she didn’t know what she should talk to him about. Ruby was talking about Luke and how they were going to get married, Colin and Brian were pestering Miller about the model plane, and Wilby was flitting in and out of the kitchen, busy with laying the dining-room table and checking Verity had the lunch of shepherd’s pie in hand.

  ‘No roast Sunday dinner, I’m afraid,’ Verity told Miller. ‘We had that yesterday while Luke was here.’

  ‘I love shepherd’s pie,’ he shot back, and even though they had spoken over everyone else in the room, it had the oddest feeling of intimacy.

  That feeling continued throughout the final preparations for the lunch, in between Wilby passing on bits of gossip she’d heard after church, the boys telling Miller some convoluted tale about swopping cigarette cards, and Ruby asking him about a place she fancied going in Scotland for her honeymoon.

  ‘This is looking good between you two,’ Ruby whispered to Verity as Wilby asked Miller to open the dining-room window, which was sticking.

  ‘Don’t be silly, nothing’s been said or done,’ Verity shot back.

  Lunch was a very jolly affair, as everyone seemed in the best of spirits, and Verity couldn’t help but remember how much she and Miller used to laugh over meals in the old days.

  Brian and Colin had to leave the table a bit early to go to Sunday School in St Mary’s, in nearby St Marychurch.

  ‘You won’t be gone before we get back, will you?’ Brian asked Miller. ‘Cos I really do need help with the model. Verity and Ruby are useless, they put the bits anywhere.’

  Everyone laughed at that, and Miller assured them he’d still be around.

  Ruby and Verity had just finished the washing-up, and Wilby had taken Miller out into the garden to get his advice on the apple tree, which she felt might have some kind of blight. The plan was to have tea in the garden.

  Suddenly the sky seemed full of aeroplanes. In the same instant the air-raid siren went off and they heard ack-ack guns from both Babbacombe Downs and Walls Hill, followed by machine-gun fire and the crump of bombs dropping somewhere close by.

  ‘The cellar!’ Verity shouted, as she was the one most used to air raids.

  As they started to go down the cellar stairs, Wilby shouted out about Brian and Colin being in Sunday School.

  ‘They’ll be fine, the teachers and the vicar will get them into a shelter,’ Ruby said. ‘Go on downstairs.’

  The din above seemed interminable. They sat in silence, Wilby, Verity and Ruby all thinking about the day the bombs had fallen on the RAF hospital and hoping against hope it wasn’t going to be another bad raid like that one.

  When the all-clear rang out, it was quite a surprise to find only ten minutes had passed.

  ‘Another tip and run, I’m sure,’ Wilby said as they went up the stairs. There had been quite a few earlier in the year, but fortunately few casualties. ‘Let’s hope they fell on farmland or in the sea.’

  Verity reached the garden first. She looked up at a billowing plume of smoke rising up behind the garden. It was coming from somewhere up near the Council House in St Marychurch and her instinct, gained from experience in London, told her this was something bad.

  ‘I’m going to find the boys,’ she said, and without stopping for anyone else’s reaction she flew like the wind through the side gate, along the road and on to Babbacombe Road.

  ‘The church has been hit!’ she heard someone shout.

  As she belted up Fore Street she became aware that Miller was close behind her.

  To Verity’s shock St Mary’s had received a direct hit and the church was in ruins, smoke and dust swirling all around the fallen stones. It was one of the worst scenes of devast
ation Verity had seen. She stared at it in horror, almost blinded by tears, knowing that thirty or more children and their teachers would be under that rubble. Amongst them were Brian and Colin.

  The two boys had healed her with their sweetness and thoughtfulness when she first arrived back here so badly hurt. They had made her laugh, kept her company, and she’d loved them like they were her little brothers. The thought that they might be dead under the rubble, or badly injured, was too much to bear.

  ‘We’ll get them out,’ Miller said, touching her shoulder to remind her he was there too, and he promptly pulled off his suit jacket and tie.

  Even before the Civil Defence men and the ambulances arrived, Verity and Miller joined all the other people who had gathered to start shifting rubble and stones to search for the children.

  Verity saw a little girl’s leg sticking out and called for assistance. Miller and two burly men she didn’t know lifted the heavy stones to reveal an upturned pew. The little girl, who was able to tell Verity her name was Susan Wright, was lifted out. She had only a bad cut on her right leg. It transpired she was one of the lucky ones.

  The bomb site soon resembled an ant’s nest. So many people came to help and, one by one, children were brought out. Many were miraculously unharmed but for a few scratches, but their little faces were grey with dust.

  Strangely, none of the rescued children cried or screamed. Maybe it was shock but, whatever the reason, it seemed like bravery.

  Older people who couldn’t clear rubble brought tea and water to the rescuers. Every now and then, everyone would pause what they were doing as a small body was brought out.

  Miller uncovered a girl of about eleven. Verity just happened to turn as he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the road. She wore a blue gingham dress and had long pigtails tied with red ribbons, and they dangled down past Miller’s waist. Verity knew the child was dead, because Miller had tears making clear channels through the grime on his face. His white shirt was almost black with dirt, his hair grey with dust. She had never seen anything quite so moving.

  With each live child brought out there was a bubble of restrained joy, yet even the parents of the saved children contained their relief and delight in deference to the sounds of parental grief and anguish close by.