CHAPTER 19
I gave my hair a last quick comb, and buffed up the toe caps of my shoes on the backs of my trousers. Why had I bought flowers? They weren’t good ones, but they weren’t roses. Mam had said that flowers all said things, all had different messages and places and times they were each right for, and roses were making a very clear statement best not said right at the start. It wasn’t really the start, of course, for we had been dancing the blushing two-step for months. Mithering, her mam had called it. Sod it, couldn’t I just be back outside that bloody airfield again?

I thought of all the men I had watched die that day, and realised how stupid and childish that thought was, and knocked.

He was at the door first, her dad, in a vest, his hands damp, and he looked me up and down as if trying to see under my skin.

“You’ll be that Gerald Barker, then. Edna told me all about you”

Suddenly he grinned, and he was a different man. “Come in, son, and be right welcome. You didn’t have to buy me flowers, though. Cup of tea?”

“Um, they were for Patricia, Mr Hardy”

“I know, son, and it’s Cyril, aye? Come into front room, Edna’s got china out. Pardon the vest, I were just cleaning up. PATRICIA! LAD’S HERE!”

That last was shouted up the stairs and answered by a clatter of heels on wood that became more muted as they hit the stair runner. A very, very short while later a flushed young woman entered the parlour, as Mrs Hardy was calling it, and pulled up short. I could feel myself blushing.

“These are for you, Tricia”

“They’re lovely, Gerald. Thank you… Mam?”

“Aye, lass. Use the shepherdess vase, aye?”

Flowers in water, tea before us, I sat at the best table with Cyril, Edna and a stammering but smiling and very pretty girl. ‘Big in the backside’? Absolutely not, not to my eyes, and I had looked every chance I had been given. I realised Cyril had been speaking.

“Gerald? You were miles away. I were asking where you were in war, like”

Hell. That was one word for it, Cyril. “I were with tanks, Cyril. On reconnaissance. Went in couple of days after the invasion, finished up in Denmark, near as could be. Wasn’t all bad”

A giggling Belgian girl, legs in the air and skirt up: no, not the thing to mention just then.

He was nodding. “I knew your Dad, back then. I mean, in last do. Son… I understand, that’s all. Now, how are you getting to pub?”

“I were going to take bus over, and then, well, I got some money together to pay for a taxi for Tricia to get her back”

“No”

That was a flat statement from her mam. I looked at Edna, slightly puzzled, and she nodded to her husband.

“Cyril will be there at ten with van. If you are not staying with your friends, you can ride back here in back of van. We are not letting our daughter stay up too late, and she is not riding back in a taxi with or without a man. That is the way reputations are ruined, and we have brought up a decent girl. That right, our Tricia?”

“Yes, Mam”

“So no arguments, lad. Cyril will be there at ten. Now, off with you, and no hanky-panky!”

Cyril showed us both to the door, and as we left shook my hand, then winked. “I’ll be there at ten, lad, but happen I might want a couple of pints when I get there, so you just look after my little girl and make sure she has a good evening. One lesson I were taught in eighteen were to take things when they were given. I don’t mean take liberties with my Tricia, just don’t waste time when you don’t have to. Nice to meet you, son”

The door closed, and I stepped out to the path where Tricia was waiting, looking lovely in a blanket coat and navy and white polka dot dress. She linked arms, and we were off down the street, me, Gerald Barker, Ginge, with a pretty girl on my arm and the world at my feet. Could life be any better?

We rode the bus in the traditional way, in the front seat at the top. Years later there would be a song from a Geordie band, where they sang “Me and you, sitting on a bus, in the front seat at the top; nobody paying us any attention and riding way past our stop”, and that song brought it all back, every time I heard it. We got off at our stop, though, which was by the newly extended war memorial, fifty yards from the King’s Head, and by that time we had gone from arm-in-arm to hand-in-hand. At the pub door, Tricia looked down, blushed again, and transferred her hand to the crook of my elbow. We entered, and I nearly fell over as Bob turned from the bar with a grin and a fresh pint.

“Ginge! How are you keeping, mate!”

“Bob! I’ll be, I mean, well, ladies present, aye? When did you get home?”

“Got my ticket back, Ginge. I’m off to Catterick. I’m going to be training people rather than…”

He paused for a second, before adding in a much quieter tone, “Rather than seeing them die, like”

I clapped him on the shoulder. “It is great to see you, Sergeant Wainwright!”

He grinned. “Mister Wainwright, Ginge: happen I got my WO2 out there”

“Congratulations! Sorry, I should have made introductions. Bob, this is Tricia Hardy, lass I asked along to dance tonight”

She interrupted. “Lass he’s been mooning over for months, more like, but who’s very happy he finally got round to it!”

“Er, aye. Tricia, this is Bob Wainwright, he were our crew commander in recent unpleasantness, as they call it”

“Pleased to meet you, Mr Wainwright”

“Bob, please”

“Bob. Now, Gerald, I would like to say hello to people whose do this is, and then I’ll be off to powder my nose while you two catch up on rest of news”

“Aye. Er, this is Bill and Mavis Hamilton, Mavis you’ve met, the ones off to Australia, and Bill, Mavis, this is Tricia Hardy, my guest for evening, and you could have told me Bob were coming”

Bill spread his arms. “We didn’t know till yesterday, Ginge. But I’m right made up he’s here; this is all my family together, all of us here tonight, except, well, let’s just remember smiles, aye? I’ve got money behind bar. Pint? Tricia?”

“Could I have a gin and it, please? Mavis, where’s powder room?”

“Over in corner, love”

Tricia walked off, and Mavis turned to me with a smile. “If she can see you need some time for lad’s things, and let you have it, she’s one to keep, Gerald. I’ll just go and make sure she’s all right”

Bob visibly sagged once it was just the three of us, and Bill put a hand to his shoulder.

“Bad?”

“Absolutely, mate. Absolutely. Like something out of Sudan, what they call human waves, aye? Just bloody sight colder. It’s a mess, but new kit’s bloody miles better that Stan was. You know what it reminds me of? Caen, that’s what. Local people are still there, and their eyes, their faces, I could be back in bloody Normandy. You’d think the last lot would have taught folk a lesson, but no, it’s still the same game, just with bigger bangs and different colour skin. I’m right sick of it, lads. I think boss saw, like, so I’m packed off here to train in what they call ‘infantry cooperation’ at Garrison. He said I were getting bomb happy, ready for chop”

Bill handed me a pint. “Not fucking surprising, pal. Right through fucking Africa, Italy, France, Belgium, that fucking place in Germany, and Harry and Wilf, aye? What do they expect?”

He looked at the two of us, face tight. “Ginge, Bob, tell me. Do you dream much? Ah. No need to answer, I can see it in your faces. It’s something I’m hoping for in new country, aye? Might be able to dream without seeing... seeing and hearing and bloody smelling things all the time. I’ve got two boys there, want to see them grow up away from rubbish like we’ve all had. Not too much to ask, is it?”

Mavis was back, and she put an arm around his waist. “No, love. Not too much to ask at all”

She looked at me and Bob. “When you’re wed to somebody, when you… when you share a bed with a man, you know when he dreams and you know when it’s bad. I’d like some quiet nights as well. Now, we want to give a little sort of speech thing, thank everyone for coming, and we’d like you to stand with us while we do, you and rest of family”

And so we did, me and Bob and Ernie, while Bill and Mavis said their thanks and their goodbyes,

It seemed I wasn’t alone in my dreams, but I tried to put that thought away in dancing and Tricia’s smiles. Cyril turned up spot on ten, and winked at me as he made his way to the bar.

“I fancy a couple of pints, son. Happen it’s nice night outside; Tricia might want some fresh air. Here: take my hanky”

“Hanky?”

“Wipe your face with after”

She rode in the front on the way back, while I sat on the floor in the back, but I didn’t mind. I didn’t mind at all.