A Rose and a Promise, page 10
‘You do surprise me. I’d have thought Cadi would want to be in the heart of the city.’
Jez shrugged. ‘She doesn’t want to bring kids up in the city centre – too busy. She’d prefer to be on the outskirts, so that they’d get the best of both worlds, and the pub would provide a living for us both, of course.’ He arched his shoulders as a shiver ran down his spine.
‘What’s up? Someone walk over your grave?’
‘I hope not! It makes you think, though. Here we are talking about our futures, yet we don’t even know if we’re going to make it to the finishing line.’
Aled looked out of the window as a plane roared past. ‘Course we will – we’ve made it this far, haven’t we?’
Remembering that Aled was in a far more dangerous position than himself, Jez nodded fervently, holding up his glass. ‘To making it to the finishing line.’
Aled clinked his glass against Jez’s. ‘Hear, hear.’
Chapter Four
Cadi bade goodbye to Officer Harris, then headed for the cookhouse. On every base the kitchen was the bed of all gossip, and one of the cooks was bound to know if it was Micky that she’d seen.
When she reached the front of the queue she ordered the cottage pie, and while the cook was ladling it on to a plate she asked, ‘I wonder if you could help me? As I was driving out of here yesterday, I could have sworn I saw a man who looked very much like someone I’ve seen before, who goes by the name of Micky Finnegan. Have you heard of him?’
The cook pulled a face as she mulled this over, before nudging one of her workmates. ‘I haven’t; have you heard of a Micky Finnegan, Tessa?’
Tessa pulled a face, whilst shaking her head. ‘Unless he’s new?’
‘I suppose he could be,’ mused Cadi, before quickly dismissing the idea. ‘I was driving Officer Harris at the time, and he seemed to know him, but he said he was called O’Connell.’
A knowing smile crossed the cook’s face. ‘We all know Kieran O’Connell – I shouldn’t imagine you could get him mixed up with anyone else.’
‘Sounds intriguing,’ said Cadi.
The cook shot Cadi a meaningful glance. ‘He’s a bit of a hit with the ladies – if you know what I mean.’
Tessa began plating pie and mash for the next person in line. ‘Not so popular with the fellers, though.’
The cook tutted beneath her breath. ‘They’re only jealous, cos our Kieran’s got the gift of the gab when it comes to the ladies.’
‘More likely cos he’s a sulky git what’s never done a day’s work since joinin’ up,’ said the man who had ordered the pie and mash.
The cook handed Cadi her plate, whilst glancing in the direction of the man who was walking away with his pie and mash. ‘See what I mean? Jealous.’
The man overheard the cook’s words and turned on the spot. ‘Jealous my eye! Stuff started to go missin’ as soon as he arrived, and we never had that problem before.’ He walked away stiffly, shaking his head.
‘Whatever the weather, he’s not the same feller,’ said Cadi, adding in the privacy of her own mind and a good job too as she walked away. Settling down to eat her lunch, she relaxed in the knowledge that wherever the Finnegans were, it wasn’t in the RAF.
‘Friday means fish and chips,’ said Daphne, as she and Kieran moved up the queue for their lunch.
‘Best day of the week,’ said Kieran. He winked at the cook who was doling the food on to their plates. ‘Made even better when Irene’s in charge of portion control.’
Irene rolled her eyes. ‘A silver-tongued devil, that’s what you are Kieran O’Connell.’
Tessa watched Irene shovel more chips on to one of the plates. ‘We were only talking about you the other day.’
He shot them a glance full of Irish charm. ‘Should I be blushing?’
‘Some woman was in here asking after you – or rather someone she’d mistaken you for.’
He pulled a mischievous face. ‘Two men as handsome as me? Surely not!’
The cook put the fish on to the plates, handing Kieran the one with the larger portion of chips. ‘She seemed pretty convinced, despite Harris telling her she’d got it wrong.’
He clicked his fingers. ‘She must’ve been looking for Prince Charming; it’s an easy mistake to make.’
The cook laughed raucously. ‘Close, but not quite.’ She fell silent for a moment or two whilst she tried to recall the name. ‘From what I remember she was after a man by the name of Micky …’ Her voice trailed off as she saw a look of utter shock cross Kieran’s features. She shot him an enquiring glance. ‘Do you know him?’
Kieran laughed sarcastically. ‘Does an Irishman know a man by the name of Micky?’
Thinking that she must have misread his expression, she shrugged it off. ‘I suppose it is a fairly common name.’
‘Did she not give you a surname?’
‘Fagan,’ said Tessa promptly, ‘because I remember thinking of Oliver Twist.’
The cook shook her head. ‘Not Fagin. Finnegan, that was it.’
Daphne narrowed her eyes. ‘This woman, was she blonde with a slight Scouse accent by any chance?’
‘She was indeed a blonde, and I suppose she did have a bit of an accent, yes.’
Daphne folded her arms across her chest. ‘Did she mention me?’
Tessa shook her head. ‘Just this Micky Fagan, or Finnegan, or whatever.’
‘Did she say what she was doing here?’
The cook nodded as she doled chips on to another plate. ‘She’d taken Harris somewhere the day before.’
Daphne was about to turn away with her tray when another thought sprang to mind. ‘Was she a sergeant?’
‘You know her, then?’ said the cook, as she held the plate towards the next person in the queue.
‘Yes, I flamin’ well do,’ snapped Daphne, ‘and she’s nowt but a troublemaker.’ She turned to Kieran. ‘I bet you anything you like it’s that Cadi, the one I told you about.’
Kieran followed Daphne over to a table. ‘Why on earth would she be asking after this Micky feller?’
‘She must’ve seen us together, so did some digging to find out who you were – she didn’t know your name so she made one up, knowing that the cook would set her straight!’ She paused momentarily before adding, ‘What’s the matter with that woman? Why can’t she leave me alone?’
Kieran placed his tray down as Daphne continued wittering about Cadi. Could it be possible that one of the women who’d turned up at Hillcrest was this Cadi? He’d like to think not, but what were the chances of two blonde Waafs, both with slight Scouse accents, knowing him by name as well as knowing Daphne.
He pushed his peas around the plate. ‘What’s your beef with this Cadi?’
‘She’s always wanted what I’ve had,’ said Daphne irritably. ‘First Aled, now you.’
‘Well, she can’t have me.’
‘That’s what I thought about Aled,’ said Daphne sullenly. ‘Didn’t stop her from trying though.’
‘So that’s the reason why the two of you fell out,’ said Kieran. ‘Because of this Aled?’
Daphne nodded. ‘She’ll never admit it, but she wanted him for herself despite the fact she already had a feller of her own.’
‘Is Aled a Scouser?’ He pushed the prongs of his fork into some of the peas. If Aled had a strong Scouse accent, the same as the lad who’d come to take Raquel, then he’d know for certain who the blonde Waaf was.
‘No. He’s from a little village called Rhos, somewhere in North Wales.’
Kieran breathed a sigh of relief. It couldn’t be the same woman, although there was a niggling doubt in the back of his mind. ‘If Cadi got Aled, why would she be after me?’
‘That’s the stupid part,’ said Daphne. ‘She married someone else – now he’s a Scouser.’
Kieran felt his stomach drop into his boots. It had to be the same one. ‘Do you think she’ll come back?’
‘I flamin’ well hope not,’ snorted Daphne, ‘but if she does I shall tell her to keep her nose out of my business for the last time.’ She was momentarily silent, before mumbling, ‘I’m sure this could count as harassment.’
Kieran sliced a piece off the end of his fish. The Finnegans were talented at easily identifying women who were down on their luck, and as soon as he’d laid eyes on Daphne he’d realised that she fell into this category. He had taken her to the cinema, where they had chatted at length about the many acres her father farmed. Kieran knew little about farming, save to say that farmers had to be considerably wealthy to own their own land. He quite fancied the idea of being a landowner himself, and if this Daphne woman was stupid enough to fall for his charms, he would marry the land from under her. A devilish smile formed on his face as he imagined himself as the lord of the manor.
Daphne cut across his thoughts. ‘What are you grinning about?’
He placed his hand over hers. ‘Just thinking how wonderful our life is going to be once we’re married.’
Daphne beamed. ‘It truly is, and I just know you’re going to make the perfect farmer.’
‘You’ve said that you’re an only child. Does that mean it’ll be your father that teaches me to farm?’ He hesitated. ‘Only I’ve got no experience and I wouldn’t like to make a pig’s ear of things. I should imagine that the farm with all its stock is worth a bob or two?’
‘Golly yes, but not to worry: Dad’ll teach you everything from ploughing the land to balancing the books.’
Kieran nodded slowly, deep in thought. Up until now, he had thought his marrying Daphne a done deal, but if this Cadi continued to stick her oar in she could very well scupper his plans before he had a chance to get his feet under the table. He needed to come up with an idea of how to ensure her silence, but how could he do that when he didn’t know where she was based? He thought for a moment. Hadn’t Daphne said that all her troubles had begun in RAF Little Snoring with a woman called Kitty? His face clouded as Daphne’s description of a rotund Scouser with curly hair came back to him. The woman sounded identical to the one who’d set fire to the brothel. A wicked smile tweaked his lips. He might not know where Cadi was, but he could certainly pay Kitty a visit.
Once again, Daphne interrupted his thinking. ‘We keep talking about getting married, but what’s holding us back? It seems silly to wait when we’ve no idea what tomorrow might bring.’
‘I’m not the sort of feller who weds without asking a father’s permission,’ lied Kieran. ‘We can set a date once I’ve spoken to your father in person.’
Daphne smiled, but said nothing. As far as her father was concerned, the potato famine of 1849 told you all you needed to know about Irish farmers. It was utter nonsense, of course, but he was a proud Englishman who’d worked hard to turn the farm into a reasonably profitable business, and she was pretty sure it would be a cold day in hell before he let some Irishman come along and run it into the ground. He’d have accepted a fellow farmer like Aled in a heartbeat, but Kieran? Her best bet was to marry Kieran, then introduce him to her father when it would be too late.
Kieran, on the other hand, wanted to hold back until he’d seen the extent of her father’s farm. He had no intention of marrying a woman he couldn’t stand in order to gain a quarter of an acre.
May 1944
When Cadi arrived in Lincoln, she could hardly contain her excitement as she caught sight of Jez watching out for her from the platform. Gathering her belongings, she rushed to the carriage door and jumped down on to the platform. Jez was hurrying in her direction, and as they came together he took her up in his arms and they sank into a deep kiss, forgetting the world around them.
As their lips parted, Jez was the first to speak. ‘God, it’s good to see you!’
Still holding him close, so that there wasn’t a sliver of light between them, Cadi sank her head against his chest, murmuring softly, ‘I wish I never had to leave, and we could stay like this for ever.’
Jez bent his neck so that he could kiss the top of her head. ‘You say that now, but you’ll be sick at the sight of me after we’ve been living together for a few years.’
She nuzzled her cheek against him. ‘I’ll never get sick of seeing you.’
‘What? Even after you’ve found my underwear on the floor for the millionth time?’
Cadi giggled. Jez always knew how to cheer her up. Leaning back from their embrace, she glanced around her. ‘Where’s Annie? I thought the two of you were joined at the hip.’
‘Still at Finningley. I wanted it to be just the two of us.’
Cadi looked surprised. She had thought Annie far too precious to Jez to be left behind. ‘Who did you leave her with?’
‘Aled’s the only person I trust with Annie,’ said Jez. ‘When we’re on different shifts, one of us will look after her whilst the other’s working. It means that she’s rarely on her own, and she gets plenty of exercise.’
Cadi smiled. ‘It’s nice to know that you don’t have to worry about her.’
They had been walking out of the station as they talked. Approaching the line of cabs, Jez motioned to the drivers, who were standing around smoking and chatting. The driver of the car at the front hastily stubbed his cigarette out with the toe of his boot, and strode towards them. ‘Where to, guv’nor?’ he enquired as he opened the back door of the cab.
‘The Adam and Eve,’ Jez replied, following Cadi on to the back seat as the driver took his place behind the wheel. He turned to Cadi and took her hand. ‘I know we could’ve walked, but I think we deserve a treat. We’ve been married for nigh on five months and we still haven’t had a honeymoon – in fact this is the first break we’ve had on our own since I don’t know when.’
Cadi smiled as Jez’s fingers curled around hers. ‘I rather like being the one who’s being chauffeured round for a change,’ she said. ‘It makes me feel special.’
Jez twinkled at her. ‘You are special.’
The Adam and Eve was only a short distance from the train station and it wasn’t long before the driver had pulled up outside the inn. Thanking the man, Cadi stepped down on to the pavement whilst Jez paid the fare and collected their bags.
Inside the tavern, Jez informed the young girl who came to greet them that he had made a reservation under the name of Thomas. Taking a key from a board behind the bar, she showed them to their room, informing them that breakfast would be served between seven and nine. She waited until Jez had approved the room before heading back down the stairs, while Cadi went to admire the view of Lincoln Cathedral, just visible from their window. Gazing at the Pottergate arch, she addressed Jez over her shoulder. ‘What do you want to do first?’
The image of his wife’s trim figure silhouetted against the sunlight which was pouring through the glass was too much for Jez. Dropping their bags to the floor, he wasted no time in scooping Cadi into his arms. His lips meeting hers, he carried her over to the bed.
Melting under the warmth of his kisses as they descended her neckline, her heart began to race as she surrendered herself to his caress.
With dusk descending, Kieran flashed his pass at the airman guarding the gate to RAF Little Snoring, and handed him the clipboard beside him. The airman scanned the list before handing it back to Kieran with a nod. ‘Park up on the right, and someone will be with you shortly.’
Kieran did as he had been instructed before descending from the cab of his lorry. Effortlessly rolling a cigarette between his fingers, he glanced around to see if he could spot Kitty anywhere; the last thing he wanted was for her to spy him before he’d had a chance to speak his piece. Leaning against the truck, he lit the cigarette before waving the match out and throwing it to the ground.
He hadn’t been there long when an airman approached with an expectant look on his face. ‘You the feller with the supplies?’
Kieran nodded. ‘Where do you want them?’
The man pointed to another airman who was waiting outside a hut further along. ‘See the chap over there?’
Kieran nodded.
‘He’ll see you right.’
Taking a couple more pulls of his cigarette, Kieran nipped the end between his fingers and placed the remainder behind his ear. He drove the lorry to where the airman was waiting, and it wasn’t long before they had unloaded the contents. Kieran fastened the tailgate as the airman bade him a safe journey back.
‘I was hoping to see a friend of mine before I left,’ Kieran told him. ‘Her name’s Kitty; do you know her?’
The man pointed towards one of the buildings. ‘She works as a cook in the officers’ mess, although I’m not sure whether she’s on shift or not.’
Kieran thanked him, and jogged over to the rear of the hut. He ran his tongue over his bottom lip. If his plan went well, then all to the good, but if Kitty screamed blue murder he’d have to hightail it out of there before anyone could stop him. Taking a deep breath, he knocked a brief tattoo on the kitchen door.
A large woman with floury hands opened the door with one hand whilst using the other to pull the blackout curtain across behind her. ‘Yes?’
Confident that she wouldn’t be able to see his face clearly, he smiled. ‘Can I have a quick word with Kitty, please? I promise I won’t keep her long.’
The cook tutted irritably before yelling for Kitty to come and see to her visitor. As she closed the door behind her, Kieran could hear her telling Kitty that she was to hurry up.
Kieran stepped back into the shadows whilst he waited.
Kitty opened the door and quickly stepped out. Peering into the darkness, she tutted under her breath. ‘Don’t mess about, Dave—’ She gave a small squeal as she felt a hand cover her mouth. Still believing it to be her boyfriend playing a prank, Kitty tried to break free, but it soon became evident that this was no prank when the unknown assailant viciously dug his fingers into her cheeks whilst twisting her arm up her back.
‘One word from you and I’ll snap your bleedin’ neck,’ hissed Kieran. He dragged her to the side of the hut where they would be completely hidden from passers-by and placed his lips next to her ear. ‘Tell Cadi to keep her nose out of my business or I’ll tell everyone what Raquel used to do for a living.’
