The Spitfire Sisters Read online

  In answer to Pips’s question, Alice wrinkled her nose. ‘Coping, I suppose, is the word, Pips. Just.’

  There was a silence in the room whilst they all remembered the three Dawson brothers, who would never again come home, having been killed on the Somme within days of each other. The pain would never go away, even after over sixteen years. The whole country was still trying to come to terms with the devastating losses. Hardly a family had been untouched and many, like the Dawsons, lost several members of their family; of the young men who had returned, many were still living with the after-effects of life-changing injuries, like Robert.

  ‘Mam,’ Alice said, referring to her mother, Norah, ‘misses Ma dreadfully. Dad does too, though he’d never admit it.’

  Ma Dawson, Len’s mother, had been regarded as the matriarch of the village. Though lacking in a formal education, she had been wise and everyone, young and old, had turned to her in times of trouble.

  ‘We all miss her,’ Pips murmured and her thoughts turned to another member of the Dawson family. ‘And what about William?’

  Alice sighed deeply. ‘No change. Dad won’t have his name spoken. Won’t even allow Mam to have his picture displayed.’

  William was regarded by Len Dawson as the black sheep of the family. When patriotic fervour had gripped the nation at the outbreak of the war, Bernard and Roy had volunteered at once. Even Harold, too young to enlist, had run away to sign up before his family could prevent it. But William had stubbornly refused to join them, insisting that he wanted to save lives, not take them. Instead, he had gone with Robert, Pips and Alice to join the ambulance corps as a stretcher bearer. Len had insisted that the family should disown him, refusing to recognize the young man’s special kind of courage.

  ‘I’ve had a letter from him,’ Pips said. ‘I’ve brought it with me to show to your mother, if I get the chance.’

  Alice nodded. ‘He writes regularly to me and I always share the letters with her, of course, but she’s hungry for any news from him. He can’t write directly to her, as you know.’

  William had not returned to England after the war. He had fallen in love with a Belgian nurse serving with the ambulance corps and had married her. They had lived with Brigitta’s grandparents, who had brought her up. Recently, Pips had heard from William that the old couple had both died during the recent winter and their farm had passed to their granddaughter. William and Brigitta now had two sons, Pascal and Waldo; Norah’s grandsons whom she had never seen.

  ‘I wonder if your father will ever relent,’ Pips murmured.

  Alice said nothing, but merely shook her head sadly. It was Henrietta who spoke up. ‘He’s a very stubborn and foolish man. One day, I fear, he will have cause to regret his bigoted views. He is pinning all his hopes for the future on young Luke and it’s a heavy burden for the boy to carry. Though I shouldn’t call him a “boy” now. He is growing into a fine young man.’

  Alice smiled lovingly as she thought about her nephew. ‘I think he’s taken over Ma’s role of watching out for Mam and how my dad treats her.’

  Luke was the illegitimate son of Harold Dawson, Alice’s youngest brother, who had been killed before he could come home to marry his pregnant sweetheart. Although at first shocked, the whole village, led by Henrietta Maitland, had rallied round and supported the girl. As Henrietta had remarked to Peggy at the time, ‘You’re not the first to have a bairn out of wedlock, and I doubt very much you’ll be the last.’

  Now Peggy Cooper was happily married to Sam Nuttall, one of the few young men to return home virtually unscathed from the war and who now worked for Len Dawson in his small village industry of carpenter, wheelwright and blacksmith.

  ‘Does Luke still come here every Saturday to ride out with Daisy?’

  ‘Oh yes. Never misses.’ Alice chuckled.

  ‘Then I’ll see him tomorrow. We’ll all go riding together.’

  The day was cold and showery, but undeterred, Pips, George, Daisy and Luke set out towards the stables at the rear of the hall.

  ‘No Harry today, Luke?’ Pips asked.

  Harry was Luke’s half-brother, born to Peggy and Sam.

  Luke grinned. ‘Granddad didn’t really want me to come here this early. We’re supposed to work on a Saturday morning and then come riding with you in the afternoon.’ The young man shrugged. ‘But I just told him I was coming, so he insisted that Harry should stay and help him instead.’

  Pips threw back her head and laughed. ‘I bet that didn’t suit Harry, but I expect he daren’t stand up to Mr Dawson like you can.’

  ‘It’s high time Granddad retired. He’s over seventy, you know.’

  Pips nodded. ‘He must be, but I’ve no doubt he’s not quite ready to hand his life’s work over to a seventeen-year-old.’

  Luke grimaced. ‘Maybe not, but he’s always telling me it’ll be mine one day. Not Sam’s or Harry’s, though he’s said there’s a job for them there as long as they want it.’

  ‘I’ve no doubt Sam will stay there, but what about Harry? Is it what he wants to do?’

  ‘Not sure. I don’t think he knows himself yet. He is only eleven.’

  ‘I’ll call and see your grandma later.’

  The boy eyed her. He knew all about the letters from his uncle William, which Pips always shared with Norah. In a low voice he said, ‘Best make it later this morning, Aunty Pips, if you can. Granddad will be at home this afternoon and all day tomorrow. He hardly ever works on Saturday afternoons and certainly never on Sundays.’

  Pips nodded and said quietly, ‘Thanks, Luke. We’ll ride round past their cottage on our way back. You can bring my horse back here and I’ll walk home.’

  They entered the stable yard to see that Jake had already saddled up four horses.

  ‘Morning, Miss Pips. All ready for you.’

  ‘Hello, Jake, how are you?’ Pips shook hands with the young man, who had been a member of staff at the hall for many years. Orphaned as a baby, Jake had run away from the boys’ home for pauper children, operated by the Lincoln Union, where he had been brought up, to look for work. Henrietta had found the twelve-year-old sleeping rough and had taken pity on the skinny waif. His loyalty to Henrietta, who had given him employment and a home above the stables, was eternal.

  ‘You ride Samson today, Aunty Pips,’ Daisy said. ‘He’s your horse really.’

  But Pips shook her head. ‘No, Daisy, I want to see you riding him.’

  Daisy’s eyes shone. ‘Can I try a jump, if you’re with me?’

  ‘Certainly not!’ Pips said. ‘What would your father say?’ But unseen by anyone else Pips gave her niece a broad wink.

  As they rode out into the countryside, through the fields belonging to the Maitlands, George breathed in the clear country air. ‘I do miss riding when we’re in London, I have to admit. I must do my best to come home with you more often, Pips.’

  They rode side by side at walking pace, but as they were approaching a low hedge, Daisy suddenly spurred the big horse towards it.

  ‘Oh, Aunty Pips . . .’ From a young boy, Luke had always called her that name and even though he was already taller than she was, the courtesy title had stuck. He was even allowed to call Mrs Maitland ‘Aunty Hetty’, though Edwin was always ‘Dr Maitland’. ‘She shouldn’t be—’ He fell silent as they all watched Daisy heading towards the hedge. She sailed over it and landed on the other side. The other three rode sedately through the gate in the hedge and joined Daisy, who was grinning widely.

  ‘I’m glad you were here, Aunty Pips,’ Luke said wryly. ‘Aunty Alice would have had my guts for garters if she’d fallen off.’

  Pips rode up close to Daisy. ‘Well done, Daisy, but I want you to promise me one thing. And you know in our family we never willingly break a promise.’

  Daisy nodded.

  ‘You must only jump when either your father or Jake is with you. It’s not fair to put such a responsibility on Luke.’

  ‘I don’t think Jake will like it ei
ther and Daddy doesn’t come riding very often.’

  ‘In that case, then, you’ll just have to wait until I come home.’

  The girl pouted but said no more. She knew better than to argue with her aunt.

  They rode back through the lanes until they paused outside the Dawsons’ cottage. Pips slid from her mount and handed the reins to Luke. ‘I won’t be long. I’ll be back in time for lunch.’

  She walked round the side of the cottage, knocked on the back door, opened it and called, ‘Hello, Mrs Dawson. Are you in?’

  A voice called from the kitchen. ‘Come in, Miss Pips.’

  Closing the back door, Pips went through the scullery and into the kitchen where she found Norah sitting at the table, a cup of tea in front of her, whilst next to the range, in the chair that had once been Ma’s, sat Bess Cooper, Luke’s maternal grandmother.

  ‘Nah then, Miss Pips,’ Bess laughed raucously. ‘O’ course we should call you “Mrs Allender”, but we just can’t get used to it.’

  ‘“Miss Pips” is just fine. How are you both?’ Pips added, sitting down opposite Bess in the chair she knew was Len’s.

  ‘As well as we can be, y’know,’ Bess said with a glance at Norah, who avoided meeting Pips’s eyes. ‘We’ve got two grandbairns each and they keep us going, don’t they, Norah?’ They had a mutual grandson in Luke, but Norah also had Daisy and Bess had Harry.

  At last Norah lifted her head slowly and met Pips’s gaze, guessing why Pips had called in. ‘But I have two more grandchildren, don’t I, Miss Pips?’ Norah, though always energetic, was small and thin, with her grey hair pulled tightly back into a bun. She was only ever seen without her apron at church on Sundays. Her face was deeply etched with lines of sadness and, though she tried to smile, it never reached her eyes.

  Pips nodded and pulled a letter from her pocket. She knew they were safe. She had seen Len at his workshop as they had passed it and she also knew that Bess was Norah’s friend and confidante.

  ‘This came to me in London last week.’

  Norah read it swiftly and then a second time more slowly, drinking in the news of William and his family and committing the words to memory. It would not be safe for her to keep the letter even though she knew Pips would leave it with her if she asked. She passed the letter to Bess for her to read too before it was handed back to Pips.

  ‘D’you know if William is still working in the cemeteries around where he lives?’ Norah asked.

  ‘Oh yes. And his boys help him too. And,’ Pips added gently, ‘he often goes to visit his brothers’ graves.’ She paused and then added, ‘I think it’s high time we had another trip to Belgium to see them. Would you come, Mrs Dawson?’

  Norah’s head shot up. ‘It’s good of you to ask me, but you know I can’t, though . . .’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Luke might like to go. You could make the excuse you’re taking him to see his father’s grave again, like you did a few years back. Len might agree to that.’

  Bess snorted with derision. ‘I doubt it, Norah, duck, but Miss Pips can try.’

  They talked for a while longer, but when she left, Pips turned back towards the workshop, in the opposite direction to her home.

  Len was just packing away his tools for the day. ‘Morning, Miss Pips,’ he said politely, though there was a wariness in his eyes. The young woman from the hall didn’t often seek him out.

  ‘Mr Dawson,’ Pips nodded acknowledgement, ‘I wonder if you’d allow Luke to come to stay with us during the Easter holidays. Daisy will be coming and I thought I might arrange a trip abroad for them both. It’d be nice for Luke to visit his father’s grave again and those of his uncles too.’

  Len glared at her and flung down his heavy hammer. Stiffly, he said, ‘If I thought that’s all you meant to do, then I’d say “yes”, but it isn’t, is it? You’d take them to see – him.’

  Pips stepped closer to him. ‘Mr Dawson, the only lies I have ever told in my life were during the war to ease a soldier’s passing, so I’m not going to start now by deceiving you. Of course I would want to take them to Belgium to see William. In fact, I’d like to take Mrs Dawson if—’

  ‘Never! And you’ll oblige me by not mentioning that coward’s name in my hearing. Oh, I’m not daft. I know Alice brings letters from him for Norah to read and’ – he pointed an accusing finger at her – ‘if I’m not much mistaken, so do you, but her seeing him again or communicating with him ’ersen, I won’t have. You hear me?’

  ‘Loud and clear, Mr Dawson.’

  There was a long pause whilst they glared at one another, both determined not to be the first to glance away.

  ‘So,’ Pips said at last. ‘What about Luke?’

  ‘No, he can’t go either and that’s my final answer, so don’t ask again.’

  ‘Can’t promise you that, Mr Dawson. He’ll soon be old enough to make his own mind up. If he isn’t already. And whilst we’re on the subject of promises, didn’t you say you’d get him a motorcycle when he was sixteen?’

  Now Len looked uncomfortable. ‘What if I did?’

  ‘Well, he’s already seventeen now and I don’t see him riding one.’ She was not about to tell tales on the young man, but it seemed that Len knew more about what went on in the village than they’d all thought.

  ‘I don’t see the need now,’ Len smirked, ‘seein’ as how he gets to ride Master Robert’s whenever he wants.’

  At the end of February, the newspapers were full of the news of the German Reichstag burning down.

  ‘This puts Hitler in an even stronger position,’ Robert said to Pips on the telephone. ‘I’m sure George will say the same thing, but it seems to me that this fire has been a stroke of luck for the Nazis, who are saying that it’s arson by the Communists.’

  ‘George says very little, but I do know the Nazis have arrested a young man whom they say is a Communist sympathizer.’

  ‘Mm, I wonder. It’s given the Nazis the chance to make more sweeping laws. They say that Goebbels, Hitler’s propaganda chief, has virtually taken control of Germany’s radio, and any newspaper or publication that criticizes Hitler’s regime disappears very quickly.’

  ‘One piece of information George did tell me was that the Nazis raided the Communist Party headquarters, and even though it had been abandoned several weeks before, they’re saying they have found evidence of a plot.’

  ‘Your little corporal is a dangerous man, Pips. I do worry about the grip he is getting on the German people.’

  ‘They idolize him.’

  ‘It’s understandable, in a way; he has given them back their national pride and pulled the country back onto its feet. But I said at the time that the Versailles Treaty was far too stringent – that we’d suffer the consequences of their bitterness.’

  ‘You did. You said we’d have more trouble. I think you were right.’

  Robert sighed heavily. ‘We’ll just have to hope and pray that it doesn’t escalate into another war.’

  ‘Let’s not think about it. I’m looking forward to having Daisy visit at Easter.’

  ‘So is she.’ He chuckled. ‘I think her suitcase is half packed already.’

  ‘Bless her. Give everyone my love. I’ll ring again next week.’

  Three

  ‘I’ll drive up on Thursday,’ Pips told Alice over the telephone, the weekend before Easter. ‘And Daisy and I will travel back on Good Friday. Then we’ll all come up the following weekend to bring her home. Will that be all right?’

  ‘Of course. But there’s just one thing . . .’ There was laughter in Alice’s tone. ‘You’ll have to take Daisy riding on the Friday morning before you set off. She’s been very good keeping her promise to you not to jump Samson when you’re not here.’

  ‘Of course I will.’

  ‘By the way, are you going to Belgium?’

  ‘Not this time. I thought we’d leave it until the summer holidays. We’ll be able to stay longer then.’

  ‘Then count
me in, won’t you? I’d love to see William and his family again and I’m sure Robert won’t mind me going, unless, of course, we can persuade him to go too.’

  Pips chuckled. ‘Then you’d better start working on him now.’

  The sisters-in-law laughed together as they ended the call with loving messages. They had always been very fond of each other even when Alice had been Pips’s lady’s maid. They’d been friends even then rather than mistress and servant.

  ‘Would you go to Belgium with us in the summer?’ Pips asked George as they sat together over dinner.

  ‘If I can get leave, then yes.’

  ‘And will you come with us to Brooklands? I’m planning to take Daisy on Easter Monday.’

  ‘Of course. I wouldn’t dare let you go on your own. Not when Mitch Hammond is likely to be there.’

  ‘Oh George. Can’t you forget all that nonsense? He’s a friend, that’s all.’

  ‘On your side maybe, but you know very well that the guy’s in love with you. Has been, I suspect, ever since you rescued him from his crashed plane in no-man’s-land.’

  They exchanged a glance that was full of shared memories, both happy and sad.

  ‘He’s a playboy, George. He has a string of girlfriends and doesn’t seem to want to settle down with any one of them.’

  She was not about to tell George that Mitch had indeed once declared his love for her. That was one secret she could not share with anyone, not even with her husband. But it seemed that George was even more astute than she gave him credit for.

  ‘That, my darling girl,’ he said softly, ‘is because he can’t have you.’

  ‘Oh phooey,’ Pips muttered as she rose to clear away the dishes and serve the pudding.

  ‘I do wish Granddad Dawson had let Luke come to London with me. I’m sure he’d love flying as much as I do and he’d love to see the racing – cars or motorcycles,’ Daisy said as the three of them travelled from Waterloo to Weybridge Station, which was very close to the Brooklands track.