CHAPTER SEVEN

WHEN they came to the dodgems she insisted on their taking a car each so that they could bash each other. Once behind the wheel, she laid into him with a will. But he gave as good as he got and when they joined up again afterwards they agreed that honours were even.

But in one thing he beat her hollow-on the rifle range his aim was perfect. He scored bullseyes with ease and was offered his pick of the prizes on display. He chose a small fluffy teddy bear and solemnly presented it to her.

She fell in love with it at once. The face was slightly lopsided, giving it an air of cheeky humour that she instantly recognised.

‘He’s you,’ she said.

‘Me?’ he asked, startled.

‘Well, he’s rather better-looking than you, of course,’ she said, considering. ‘But that cocky air is exactly you. My bruin.’

‘Bruin?’

‘It’s an old word for bear. This isn’t just an ordinary bear. He’s my bear. He’s a real bruin.’ She dropped a kiss on the furry little fellow’s snout.

‘I’m jealous,’ Mark said.

‘How can you be jealous of yourself?’ she demanded, tucking the toy safely into her bag.

‘I’ll think about that.’

He bought two ice creams and they wandered through the fair, hand in hand. Dee thought she’d never known such a happy evening.

‘Will you take me on the roller coaster again?’ she asked.

‘Am I allowed to say no?’

‘Not a chance.’

Suddenly a yell came out of the darkness.

‘Look at that!’ someone breathed, pointing upward, horrified and admiring at the same time.

High above them stretched what looked like a hollow pole made of metal latticework. A string of lights went up the middle, gleaming against the metal strips and illuminating the man who was climbing to the top.

‘He shouldn’t be doing that!’

‘He’s crazy!’

‘Yes, but what a climber!’

The shouts filled the air, but the climbing man seemed oblivious to the sensation he was creating. Up, up he moved, never looking down, untroubled by the height, although the pole was beginning to sway.

‘Is he going right to the top?’

‘He won’t dare. It isn’t safe.’

It seemed that the man agreed, because he stopped and made a dramatic gesture to the crowd below, signifying the end of the performance. Cheers erupted as he began to descend and applause filled the air.

‘What’s that for?’ Mark demanded indignantly. ‘He got nowhere near the top.’

‘He got pretty high, though,’ Dee pointed out.

‘Anybody can settle for second best. It’s reaching the top that matters.’

‘Yes, if you want to risk your neck for nothing,’ she said.

As soon as the words were out she knew they were a mistake and the look on Mark’s face confirmed it. To him, the risk alone was worth it. The more danger, the more fun; those had been his words.

‘Mark-wait!’ she cried as he turned away, resolution written in every line of his body.

He ignored her, if he even heard her. Terrified now, she seized his arm and at last he turned.

‘Take your hands off me,’ he said softly.

‘Mark, please-’

‘Let go, now!

She’d never heard such a tone from him before, or seen such a look in his eyes. Where was the sweet-tempered joker that she loved? Gone, and in his place this hard-faced man who would brook no interference in his wishes.

‘I told you to let me go,’ he repeated coldly.

Appalled, she stepped back, her hands falling away from him as the strength drained out of them.

He was a stranger, a man she’d never met before and never wanted to meet again. In her heart she’d always known something like this was waiting for them, a moment when she would look down the road ahead and shiver.

Mark saw her withdrawn expression and misunderstood it.

‘It’s all right,’ he said, speaking more gently. ‘I know what I’m doing.’

He was gone before she could reply, striding towards the terrifying pole, leaping onto the bottom rung and climbing fast before anyone could stop him. Now there were more cheers, mingled with screams.

Dee’s heart almost stopped. It was unbearable to watch him, yet impossible to look away. He was approaching the point where the first man had given up. If only he would be satisfied with going a little further and claiming victory! Surely that would be enough for him!

‘Please, please,’ she whispered. ‘Make him stop-let him be satisfied without going to the top.’

But he wouldn’t be satisfied with less, she knew that. It had to be all or nothing. That was how he was made.

The crowd roared as he reached the crucial point and climbed beyond it. On the ground, the other climber groaned and swore. ‘Show-off,’ he growled.

‘And what were you?’ Dee turned on him.

‘All right, I’m a show-off too, but I knew when to stop. The metal’s much thinner up there. It won’t support him.’

Right on cue, a metal strut bent under Mark’s foot. He hesitated, clinging on, looking down, then looking up.

‘Come down,’ yelled someone. ‘Be sensible.’

Fatal. Be sensible! Like a red rag to a bull, Dee thought frantically.

At last he tightened his grip, raised his head to the sky and began to climb again. The pole swayed but this time the crowd didn’t scream. Instead, there was silence, as though the universe had stopped until they knew what would happen.

Four more rungs, then three-two-one-and finally-

The roar was deafening as Mark reached the summit and threw up one arm in victory, waving down at them as the applause streamed up to him in waves.

‘Did you see that?’

‘What a hero that man must be!’

‘He’s not afraid of anything.’

Gradually he descended while everyone in the crowd crossed their fingers, willing him to succeed, until at last he vanished into their open arms and the roar exploded again.

‘Hey, aren’t you with him?’

Dee opened her eyes to see a young couple.

‘We saw you talking,’ the boy said. ‘Are you his girlfriend?’

‘I…er…yes.’

‘You must be so proud of him,’ the girl sighed. To her companion she said, ‘You never do things like that.’

‘Then you’re very lucky,’ Dee said with a tartness that even took herself by surprise and moved away quickly.

Mark saw her coming and threw up his arms, his eyes alight. Everything in his manner said, How about that?

‘Are you all right?’ she asked.

‘Of course I’m all right. It was nothing.’

‘It was reckless and stupid,’ said a man who’d appeared behind him. He was middle-aged and heavily built. ‘I’m the owner of this fair and I’ve a good mind to hand you over to the police for damage to my property.’

There were cries of indignation. ‘You can’t do that-we’re gonna need fellows like him soon-’

‘I didn’t say I was going to,’ the owner defended himself. ‘I’ve never seen anything like it.’ He shook Mark’s hand. ‘Just don’t do it again.’

Roars of laughter. More applause. Congratulations. Dee watched, wondering why she couldn’t join in the general delight, but she didn’t want to spoil it for him so she tried to smile brightly as she approached, playing the role of the woman proud to bursting point of her man.

Clearly it was what he was expecting, for he flung his arms around her and drew her close in an exuberant embrace. The crowd loved that, clapping their hands, laughing and hooting.

She never heard them. The feel of his lips on hers almost deprived her of her senses. It wasn’t the kiss she longed for, intimate, loving, personal. It was a kiss for show, but it was the best she could hope for and she would relish every moment. She kissed him back, putting her heart into it, wondering if he could ever recognise that she even had a heart.

The crowd’s applause brought her back down to earth. Embarrassed, she drew back and began to walk away.

‘You’re very quiet,’ he said as he caught up with her. ‘Are you annoyed with me?’

‘You’re an idiot!’ she told him.

‘No question!’ He rested his hands on her shoulders. ‘I know I’m a fool, but you’ll forgive me, won’t you? It’s just me, it’s the way I am. Once a fool, always a fool.’

She pulled the toy bear out of her bag and held him up so that they could look at each other, face to face.

‘You hear that?’ she said. ‘He admitted he’s a fool. I suppose you’re on his side. Mad bruins, both of you.’

He chuckled. ‘Mad Bruin. I like it.’

She knew a little flare of anger at his lack of understanding. She’d suffered a thousand agonies watching him, but that had never occurred to him. He’d seen only what he wanted to do and the satisfaction it gave him. Now he was up in the clouds, bursting with delight, and no thought for her.

But then, she thought, why should he think of her? He didn’t know that she was in love with him. It probably hadn’t occurred to him that she suffered.

Stop complaining, she told herself. You chose to become engaged to a man who’s not in love with you. Live with it!

‘Wait here,’ she said, rising suddenly and darting away.

In a few moments she was back at the stall where he’d won the little bear.

‘He’s lonely,’ she said, holding Bruin up. ‘He wants his mate. How much to buy her?’

‘You’re supposed to win her,’ the stall-holder protested.

‘With my aim, we’ll be here all night. How much?’

He haggled briefly but gave in and sold her the little toy, identical to the other except for a frilly skirt. Then she raced back to Mark and thrust her trophy into his hand.

‘There you are! Now we both have one.’

‘You won this? I’m impressed.’

Briefly she was torn by temptation, but wisdom prevailed. ‘No, I persuaded him to sell her to me.’

‘How much?’

She grimaced. ‘One shilling and sixpence.’

How much? That’s a fortune. You could buy several pints of beer for that.’

‘I buy only the best,’ she assured him. ‘This is female Bruin, and she’s going to keep an eye on you for me.’

‘Going to nag me, eh?’

‘Definitely. And spy on you, and report back to me if you get up to mischief.’ But then she added in a quieter voice, ‘And look after you.’

‘Stop me doing stupid things?’

‘Something like that.’

‘Then I’d better look after her,’ he said. He made as if to tuck the toy into his jacket but held her up at the last minute.

‘She says it’s getting late and we ought to go home,’ he said.

‘And she’s always right.’

Hand in hand, they strolled out of the fair.

She remembered that evening long afterwards, for it was the last one of its kind. Soon after that, the lights of London went out one night, leaving the city in darkness and people groping their way home.

‘It’s only a trial,’ Joe reassured them, holding up a candle. ‘When the war starts, London will have to be blacked out for its own safety every night. This is to warn us to get ready.’

Sure enough, the lights eventually returned, but the sudden darkness had brought the truth home as nothing else could have done. Now it was real. Mark was no longer an Auxiliary but a part of the official Air Force, his skills honed to a fine edge, waiting for the formal declaration of war, and at last it came.

Now nothing would ever be the same again.

Mark managed a brief visit. Helen treated him as an honoured guest, preparing a special supper and leaving Dee only a few moments alone with him before he had to leave for the airfield where he would always be on call. As she watched him walk away, she wondered when or if she would see him again.


All around her the world was changing. Children were evacuated out of London to distant farms, men joined up or were conscripted, young women also joined up or went to work in factories or on farms, replacing the men. Dee briefly considered joining the Women’s Auxiliary Air Force, an ambition that Mr Royce crushed without hesitation.

‘You’re a nurse-or you will be when you’ve passed your exams, very soon. I expect you to do well, and you’ll be far more use to your country exercising your medical skills.’

It was the closest anyone had heard him come to a compliment.

By now, everyone knew that war would be declared any day, and when it finally happened on 3rd September there was almost a sense of relief in the air. Now they could get on with things. Some of the patients even cheered.

Dee kept smiling, but when she was alone she slipped away into the hospital chapel and sat there, thinking of Mark, wondering what the future held.

Her exams came and went. Later, she could barely remember taking them, but she passed well and was offered a permanent job at the hospital.

Congratulations abounded. Matron told her she’d always known it would happen. Mr Royce, no longer a distant figure of authority, approached her in the canteen and insisted on buying her a cup of tea ‘to celebrate’.

Mark managed to make it back for a small family celebration, but most of the day was spent building the Anderson shelter. These shelters were made of sheets of corrugated iron, bolted together at the top, with steel plates at either end. They were set up in the garden, sunk as far as possible in the earth, for greater safety.

‘I’m not sleeping in that thing,’ Helen declared. ‘We’ll be better off in the house.’

‘Not if they start to bomb this part of London,’ Mark murmured.

He was reticent on the subject of his own sorties. Hitler was invading Europe, the British army had advanced in return and the Air Force was deployed to assist them. These bare facts were common knowledge, and beyond them he would say little.

The closest he came to revealing his feelings was as they were walking to the bus stop in the late afternoon. Nearby was a church, from which a couple was just emerging. The groom wore an army uniform. Instead of a wedding gown the bride wore a modest functional dress, only the flower on her shoulder suggesting that today was special.

‘Is something the matter?’ Mark asked, seeing her frown with concentration.

‘No, I’m just trying to remember where I’ve seen her before. Ah, yes, she works in the bakery three streets away.’

The bride saw her and waved. Dee waved back.

‘He’s probably just home on leave for a few days and they won’t have a honeymoon,’ she reflected. ‘There are so many of these quick weddings happening now.’

She didn’t press it further, leaving it up to Mark whether he seized the point and pressed for a wedding of their own. He was silent for a moment and she crossed her fingers.

‘Too many,’ he said at last.

‘What…what did you say?’

‘There are too many of these mad weddings. He’ll go away tomorrow and she may never see him again. If she does, he’ll be changed, maybe disfigured.’

‘But if she loved him she wouldn’t be put off by his disfigurement.’

‘She thinks she wouldn’t. They all say that, but they don’t know what they’re talking about. The other day I met a man who was a pilot in the last war. His face had been destroyed by fire.’

Through her hand tucked under his arm, Dee felt the faint shudder that went through him.

‘He hadn’t seen his wife in years,’ Mark continued. ‘He didn’t blame her. He said you couldn’t expect a woman to endure looking at him day after day.’

‘But he was still the same man inside,’ Dee said, almost pleading.

‘But he wasn’t. How could he be? How could you face that fire and be the same inside?’

Again there was the shudder, stronger now, and her hand tightened in sympathy. These days she seemed to understand him better with every moment that passed, and she knew that he would die rather than admit to being afraid.

At first there had been no need to fear. Everything was beginning in sunlight and hope as the planes soared up and over Europe to tackle Hitler’s invasion. But it soon became clear that the enemy had more powerful planes, and the British losses began to mount up. Mark was unscathed, but some of his friends weren’t so lucky.

He hadn’t told her, but she knew of two airmen whose bravery had resulted in the award of Victoria Crosses. But they never saw these tributes. They had died in action.

Now she had sensed the things that he could never put into words, and knew that secretly he dreaded fire more than anything else. More than pain. More than death. Fire.

‘Maybe she won’t be the same inside, either,’ she said. ‘Maybe she’ll just be what he needs her to be.’

He gave a sharp, ironic laugh. ‘If he’s there at all. Suppose he dies and leaves her with a child to rear alone? Suppose she has no family left, and is really alone with a child she-is that the bus I can see in the distance?’

‘Yes,’ she said sadly.

‘Time to go, then. Congratulations again on passing your exams. I’ll be in touch and we’ll try to see each other again soon.’

The bus was there. An arm around her shoulder, a quick kiss on the mouth, and he was gone.

She didn’t return home at once, but walked the streets as the light faded. Now she had her answer. There would be no early marriage, and perhaps no marriage at all. He’d expressed his refusal as consideration for her, and it sounded sensible enough, except that he didn’t love her and needed a good excuse.

But then she remembered the echo from his own past, how he’d started to speak of the woman left alone with a child who she-and then he’d broken off. Who she-what? Couldn’t cope with? Didn’t love? What would he have said if the bus hadn’t appeared at that moment? Would he tell her one day? Or would she be left to wonder all her life?


They managed a brief meeting over Christmas, but then time flashed by and it was 1940. As the months passed the prospect grew darker. Neville Chamberlain, a sick man, resigned in May to be replaced as Prime Minister by Winston Churchill.

Dee’s new job was demanding. She put in as much overtime as she could, preferring to work to exhaustion rather than have too many hours to brood.

‘Working long hours is praiseworthy, of course,’ Mr Royce said, placing a mug of tea in front of her in the canteen. ‘But if you’re too exhausted you’re useless to the patients.’

Dee opened her eyes and regarded him with a sleepy smile. She respected him greatly but her awe had been softened by liking. He was in his late forties, with hair already greying and a pleasant, gentle manner.

‘I know,’ she said, taking the mug thankfully. ‘I’m leaving in a minute.’

‘Do you manage to see much of your fiancé?’

‘Not for a couple of weeks, although I hope he’ll manage to visit us soon. The airfield isn’t so far away, but of course he’s mostly on call. I know I’m one of the lucky ones, because I do get to see him sometimes. The ones I feel sorry for are the women whose men are in the army, stationed in France, because they say Hitler is advancing.’

‘As a matter of fact,’ Mr Royce said casually, ‘I can give you some news of Mark. They say he’s making a name for himself, a brave and skilful pilot. You should be proud of him.’

‘Thank you for telling me,’ Dee said.

She didn’t ask how he knew. It was common knowledge in the hospital that he had friends in high places. One rumour even said he had a cousin in the government, although nobody knew for sure. It briefly occurred to Dee to wonder how his knowledge extended as far as this one airfield, but she was too tired to think much of it.

‘Mark’s very pleased with himself at the moment,’ she said, ‘because when Winston Churchill became Prime Minister he was able to say, “I told you so”.’

‘He actually predicted it?’

‘Not exactly, but he used to say that Churchill was the only one who knew what he was talking about.’

‘That’s true. Now, go home and get some sleep.’

At home she found Helen fuming, as she’d done for several weeks. There was a problem with food stocks, as ships bringing food to Britain were sunk by enemy submarines. To make supplies stretch, further ration books had been issued, directing how much could be eaten in a week.

‘Four ounces of bacon,’ Helen declared in disgust, ‘two ounces of cheese, three pints of milk. And I have to hand over the ration book and they tear out coupons showing I’ve had this week’s allowance and I can’t have any more until I hand over next week’s coupons.’

‘It’s to make sure everyone gets a fair share, Mum,’ Dee explained. ‘Otherwise, the folk with money would buy up the lot.’

‘That’s all very well, but Mark’s coming next weekend. How can we feed him properly?’

‘I think he’ll understand the problem.’

She was counting the minutes until she would see Mark, but the day before he was due to arrive the telephone rang.

‘I can’t come tomorrow,’ he said. ‘All leave has been cancelled.’

‘But why?’

‘I don’t know, and I couldn’t tell you if I did. But something big’s happening, take my word.’

That was the first she heard of Dunkirk.

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