Heartwarming and emotional story of one girl's courage in WW2, Fenella Miller [best pdf ebook reader for android TXT] 📗

eyed from the night watch two days later when she was waylaid. ‘ACW1 Simpson, you are to report immediately to the CO.’

Her heart sunk. She could think of only one reason why she’d been summoned. With both her brothers, her fiancé and Jack in the RAF she’d been dreading getting this call. Mary had been on edge since the evacuation started and still didn’t know if her brother was safe.

As soon as she stepped into the office she knew the news was going to be the worst possible. Someone she loved had died. She saluted and remained at attention ignoring the suggestion that she be seated.

‘My dear, I have the sad task of informing you that your brother Flight Lieutenant Neil Simpson died yesterday. His aircraft was so badly damaged that he couldn’t land it safely. He was unable to bail out for some reason.’

Ellie heard the words but they didn’t make sense. Her beloved older brother couldn’t be dead. She stared at her CO unable to respond coherently.

‘You have been given a week’s compassionate leave, Simpson. You may collect your travel docket from my secretary. I have arranged for you to get a lift to the station.’

Ellie nodded, dry eyed, saluted a second time and marched out having not spoken a word. She ran to her quarters relieved the hut was empty as the girls would be getting their breakfast. After tossing all her belongings into her kit bag she raced off, praying she wouldn’t meet anyone and need to explain where she was going.

If she didn’t say the words, then maybe it wouldn’t be true. The thought that she would never hear Neil call her his little sister again was too awful to accept. A staff car was waiting and she scrambled into the back, not wishing to sit beside the driver and be obliged to talk.

The journey to Glebe Farm passed in a blur. She remained sunk in her misery, unable to cry in public, torn apart by guilt that she was glad it wasn’t Greg who had died. When she emerged on the station at Romford she realised she should have let her dad know she was coming. She wouldn’t be able to get a taxi so late – none of them liked to work in the blackout.

She slung her bag over her shoulder and decided to walk. There was sufficient moonlight to be able to find her way safely and it shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours. Despite having spent so much of her time huddled in front of a screen these past few months she was still fit and strong.

It was two o’clock when she trudged down the drive. Only then did she think about the problems of getting into the house. She would have to wake Mabel and get her to open the back door.

She was still half a mile away when the dogs arrived at her feet whining and barking with excitement. She’d forgotten the animals were left out overnight to protect the birds.

‘Good boys, I’m glad to see you too. Stop jumping, you’ll have me over. How did you know I was coming?’ Somehow it made things a little easier talking to the dogs as though they understood.

She was a hundred yards away from the dark bulk of the farmhouse when a tall figure appeared from the darkness. He didn’t have to speak, she recognised Greg’s outline immediately.

Dropping her bag, she ran towards him and threw herself sobbing into his arms.

‘Sweetheart, I thought it would be you coming when the dogs shot off. I’m so sorry. Neil was a good chap.’ He held her close and his strength was enough to comfort her.

She gulped and snuffled, wiped her eyes and nose and was finally able to speak. ‘How’s Dad? He must be devastated.’

‘He’s taking it as well as can be expected in the circumstances. The funeral is the day after tomorrow. George and Jack have got leave to attend.’

‘I hadn’t seen him since Christmas – but we wrote to each other most weeks.’

‘Actually, I saw him a couple of weeks ago.’

Greg explained how this happened and told her that he’d got a transfer and was joining Neil’s squadron after the funeral.

‘The next few weeks are going to be difficult for all of you. I think almost two hundred planes were lost and God knows how many soldiers were killed on the beaches. We won’t be the only family mourning the loss of a loved one this week.’

‘I hope you didn’t wake anyone when you came out. Did the dogs bark?’

‘I haven’t been to bed yet. I’ve been wandering about out here. Which reminds me, darling, why didn’t you ring? Nobody would have minded being woken up and I could have come and got you.’ He still had his arm around her waist and turned to guide her towards the house.

‘Hang on, I dropped my bag. I better collect it; in case it rains.’

‘No, I’ll get it.’ She stood, numb, whilst he raced off and fetched it. ‘I’ll chuck it on the porch and then we can sit in the garden for a bit and talk.’ He kept his arm firmly around her waist and guided her towards the house. The kitbag thumped nosily on the porch and the dogs barked in excitement.

‘Shut up, you two, you’ll wake everyone up,’ Greg said and they slunk off.

She was so tired she could hardly see straight and would be better off in bed but didn’t want to be alone, not tonight. Greg guided her towards the rose arbor. She stumbled and he swore. Next thing she knew she was in his arms being carried and she felt safe and comforted by his love and strength.

He didn’t continue to the garden but returned to the house and shouldered his way in and took her to the sitting room. He sat on the sofa with her in his arms and then let her cry. She woke later in the morning still in his arms