Pilot
Officer Ronald Carrington and Land Army girl Fiona Blake met twice on the
journey from their home towns when they were traveling to Mornington, once on
the train between Nettlefield and Purplemere and again on the bus as they
crossed the Finchbottom Vale.
And by the
time they reached the quaint picturesque chocolate box idyll, with its Manor House, 12th
Century Church, Coaching Inn, Windmills, an Old Forge, Schoolhouse, a River and
a Mere, they had fallen in love.
As a result
they made a date for the following Saturday which culminated with a good night kiss
by the gate of Manor Farm.
After that
first date at the Old Mill Inn they saw each other as often as her work on the
farm and his sorties with the RAF permitted but at the end of April his
squadron were notified that they were on the move to an undisclosed
destination.
When he met
Fiona that evening he was wearing a grave expression
“What’s
wrong?” she asked with concern
“I have
just received some bad news” he informed her
“Why what’s
happened?” she asked even more concerned
“The
squadron has been posted” he said
“Where to?”
“We don’t
know” he replied “We won’t know until the day we leave”
“When is
that?” she asked flatly
“In two
days” Ronald replied
“Oh God so
soon” she exclaimed
“But no one
is allowed off base after ten o’clock tonight” he said
“So tonight
is your last night” Fiona said sadly
“I’m afraid
so, but I will come back to you” he assured her and she threw herself into his
arms
“I love you
so much” he said
“I love you
too”
“I will
write to you every day” he promised “but you might not get them as often, and
they might be out of sequence when you receive them depending on where they’re
posted from”
“I’ll write
everyday too” she said and then she began to cry
And he
suspect there would be more tears, after all they wouldn’t be seeing each other
again for goodness knew how long.
When she
had dried her eyes she said
“Let’s not
go to the pub, I don’t want to share you with anyone else on our last night
together”
So they
walked slowly around the village just like they did on their first date.
And
afterwards they walked back to the farm hand in hand and as he expected there
were more tears by the gate and when she was composed enough to say a proper
goodbye they kissed and she walked straight into the farmhouse without looking
back.
He kept his
word and wrote to her everyday even though it was difficult with the amount of
training missions they were flying in what was the preparation for D-Day, but
he promised her he would so he did and posted them whenever he could.
It became
more difficult once they crossed the channel and her letters to him, which arrived
as regular as clockwork, became more sporadic once he reached France and by
October they had stopped altogether.
Despite her
letters drying up he continued to write but only once a week, then one a month
and by February of 45 he stopped.
He returned
to Mornington in August of 1945 as a Squadron Leader and his first port of call
was to Manor Farm to see Fiona but Mrs. Hargrave told him that she had left the
farm and the Land Army twelve months earlier after her father was killed in an
air raid and she went home to look after her mother.
He asked if
she had left a forwarding address, but she hadn’t, and the lady of the house
said she had a box full of unread letters and he recognized them as his.
He had spent
the three weeks since he learned of his posting, hoping he could reconnect with
Fiona and get to the bottom of why she stopped writing.
But after
going to the farm he was faced with the fact that he would never see her again.
After 3
months in Mornington he was sent on temporary secondment to RAF Millmoor which
was a promotion of sorts because at Millmoor he would be flying jets.
After a
month at Millmoor he got a call from one of his old Squadron who was going to
be in Nettlefield a few days before Christmas.
“We get in
on Saturday morning” William said “so we could have lunch maybe, you me and Crispin”
“Ok great” Ronald
replied
So on
Saturday morning, a week later, he caught the train at Millmoor station.
He had
planned to meet up with William and Crispin in Nettlefield at a restaurant
called “The Boars Head” at half past twelve on Saturday, and he had left the
base five minutes later than he intended and thought he was going to miss his
train but for some unknown reason he not only caught the train, but he arrived
in Nettlefield half an hour early.
So he stood
outside the station staring at his watch and scratching his head trying to
figure out where he had gone wrong with his calculations.
But it was
snowing hard and he was feeling the cold so he decided to have a beer at the
nearest watering hole, which happened to be “The Grey Friar Inn”.
As it was almost
Christmas the pub was bedecked with the best that post war Downshire could
conjure up, namely paper chains, holly and balloons.
It was a
very welcoming pub despite the understated festive décor, there was a roaring
fire in the grate, and a middle aged man was playing Christmas songs on the
piano and there was Mornington ale on tap.
He ordered
a pint and sat at the nearest table to the fire and smiled at the tableaux
before him of the mixed clientele of Christmas shoppers and workers at lunch.
The music
was good, but then he thought you couldn’t go wrong with Christmas music, and
the pianist was good.
It was when
he was halfway down his pint that he spotted a familiar face and he had to do a
double take.
The girl was
short with a nice little figure, and long straight brown hair and a rather attractive,
if heavily freckled face, lovely hazel eyes, a cute nose and a thin-lipped
smile.
Ronald was halfway
down his pint that he spotted a familiar face and he had to do a double take.
The girl
was short with a nice little figure, and long straight brown hair and a rather attractive,
if heavily freckled face, lovely hazel eyes, a cute nose and a thin-lipped
smile.
She was
dressed differently from the last time they met, her summer dress had been
replaced by a dark green tweed skirt and a brown cable knit sweater, tan coloured
stockings encasing her shapely legs and she had brown brogues on her tiny feet.
He watched
her move from table to table collecting empties and putting them on the bar.
She was an
altogether more confident girl than the shy little mouse he first met on the
train to Purplemere,
But
although he had fallen in love with her, a love that was clearly still alive,
judging by the effect that seeing her had had on him, there was still the
question as to why she had stopped writing to him.
He was
desperate to get up and walk to the bar and speak to her but he feared his legs
might not carry him so instead he called out.
“Fiona? Fiona
Blake?”
“Yes” she
answered and as she turned towards him recognition dawned on her face and she smiled
“Ronald”
she said and walked over towards him.
“Hello” he
said
“Ronald”
she responded
Fiona had
mixed feelings when she saw him, because she still loved him but she was also
still hurt that he hadn’t written back to her after she left Mornington even though she wrote to
him half a dozen times explaining why she left and where she had gone.
Of course
what she didn’t know was that after D-Day there was a back log in the mail
supply to frontline units and it was several weeks before it got on its way,
unfortunately one of the Dakota’s ferrying the sacks across the channel was
shot down and crashed into the sea, and Fiona’s letters along with it.
Wearing
half a smile she walked towards him and asked
“Why didn’t
you write?”
“What?”
“Why didn’t
you answer my letters?”
“I did” he
said “I wrote everyday as I promised, until it became clear that you had
stopped”
“I didn’t
get them all if you did” she pointed out
“Well when
I went to Manor Farm Mrs. Hargrave showed me a box full of my letters, which
were delivered after you left” he explained
“But why?”
she asked “Why didn’t you send it to Heathervale?”
“What’s
Heathervale?”
“That’s
where I live” she snapped “I wrote and told you that”
“I never
got that letter” he said and she went pale and sat down heavily on a chair
“I don’t
know what to say, I thought you had just lost interest in me”
“Never” he
said “Not for an instant”
“I’m sorry”
she said in her soft mousy voice.
“FIONA!
Customers!” the landlord barked
“OK!” she
snapped “I have to get back to work”
“So it
would seem” he said and then looked at his watch “oh God! I have to go”
“What? No,
don’t go” she implored “We need to talk”
“I have to,
I’m meeting William and Crispin, they’re only in Nettlefield for a few hours”
he said drained his glass and stood up
“I’ll come back
later”
“I finish
at seven” Fiona said
“Great I’ll
see you then” He said, smiled and left and Fiona watch him leave with tears
welling in her eyes.
Ronald
reached “The Boars Head” at half past one on the dot only to find the other two
were late, which left him time to dwell on the meeting with Fiona, until the
other two sauntered in fifteen minutes later.
“Sorry
we’re late” Crispin said, “my fault I’m afraid, my train was delayed”
It was a wonderful
reunion and an exceptionally nice meal considering the post war shortages but
it was the company that made it so enjoyable.
Ronald
enjoyed it so much that he didn’t have time to think about Fiona and before he
knew it the afternoon had gone.
When they
left the restaurant it was almost five o’clock as they headed to the station.
It was
snowing heavily and when they got there they found that no trains were running
south, but William and Crispin, who were heading north, managed to get on the
last train running.
After they said
their goodbyes he tried the taxi rank but there were no cabs to be found so
after he had met Fiona again he would be stranded in Nettlefield.
He walked
to the “Grey Friar Inn” and went to the reception and managed to secure their
last vacant room.
It was a
few minutes after five when he was handed the key for room six and as the
rather gruff receptionist returned to the bar a small figure wrapped up against
the cold, came through the door from the noisy lounge bar and stopped dead when
they caught sight of him.
“Ronald”
she said, her voice muffled by her scarf.
“Is that Fiona
under all that?” he asked
She didn’t
speak but nodded.
“Where are
you off to?” he queried
“I’ve got
to get home,” she said
“I thought
we needed to talk” he pointed out
“We do and
I want to but I need to get home” Fiona assisted
“There
aren’t any trains,” he told her
“What? To Heathervale?”
she asked urgently
“To
anywhere” he replied
“And there
are no taxis either”
“Oh damn,” Fiona exclaimed
“I have to
try” she said, “I’d like to stay, but I have to try”
“Ok” he
said “I’ll walk with you”
She nodded
and then they walked out into the snowy night,
They passed
the empty taxi rank on the way and when they reached the station they found it
was closed and Fiona turned towards him and put her face against his chest and
began to cry.
“I”
“Cant”
“Get”
“Home” she
said between sobs
Inside his
head he said
“Well I did
tell you that”
But saying
it out loud would not have helped the situation so he just thought it and made
sympathetic noises instead.
“All the
trains are cancelled,” she said
“I know,”
he thought
“And there
are no taxis”
“I told you
that as well,” he thought
After a few
moments he asked
“What’s at
home that you are so desperate to get home for?”
He was
certain it wasn’t a sweetheart and he was right.
“My mum”
she answered
“For God’s
sake” he thought “you’re in your twenties, you’re a big girl now”
Out loud he
just said
“Oh?”
And she
explained that the air raid that killed her father also paralyzed her mother
and Fiona looked after her.
She worked
all day in at the pub in Nettlefield but she was at home mornings and evenings
to tend to her mum.
Ronald felt
bad when he heard her explanation.
“I have to
try and get home” Fiona said
“But it’s
just not possible” he said “is there anyone in the village who could check on
her”
“Yes, Mrs.
Rooney” she replied “But I can’t ask her because she doesn’t have a phone”
“No, but
Warrant Officer Coleman does” Ronald said
“Who?”
“Former WO
Coleman at Mornington Field is now Police Sgt Coleman in the village of
Heathervale” he said “come on let’s find a phone box”
The nearest
phone box was just across the street so they ran hand in hand across the road and
squeezed into it, and Ronald phoned Sgt Coleman and after a minute or two of reminiscence
he explained the reason for the call and the nature of the emergency and the
Sgt promised he would dispatch his PC out into the snow to Mrs. Rooney’s.
“Thanks George”
he said and hung up the phone
“Thank you”
she said and hugged him
“That’s ok”
“What now?”
she asked expectantly
“He’s going
to ring the “Grey Friar” when he has news” he replied
“Why
there?” she asked
“I have a
room” he replied “we can stay there tonight, and we can set off early tomorrow
morning”
“I can’t
spend the night with you” she said with horror
“It’s ok,
you can have the bed” Ronald assured her “There won’t be any impropriety, I
promise”
“Ok” she
said meekly as she gazed up at him and he kissed her.
They got
back to the “Grey Friar” and weren’t able to go straight to the room as the rather
gruff receptionist he’d seen earlier, who was Mrs. Cleary, the Landlords wife, was
behind the counter so they went into the bar and ordered drinks, but they
didn’t stay long as it was very loud and raucous, so they quickly drank up and
as soon as she saw Mrs. Cleary walk into the bar Fiona knew that reception
would be unattended so she discreetly took the key for room six from Ronald, slipped
out of the bar and sneaked up to the room and he followed five minutes later,
but was stopped in his tracks by grumpy Mrs. Cleary.
“Squadron
leader!”
“Yes Mrs.
Cleary” he said
“Telephone”
she snapped
When he got
to room six he found Fiona sitting on the end of the bed still wearing her
outdoor clothes
At first
glance the room was a bit small and dingy but on reflection he thought it was
better than some of the billets in France and Belgium he’d stayed in after D-Day.
Fiona was
looking rather glum but he had some news that would cheer her up, because it
was Sgt Rooney on the phone to say that Mrs. Rooney had been contacted and she
was only too happy to oblige, and to tell Fiona not to worry.
As promised
he let Fiona have the bed and he spent the night in an armchair but neither of
them slept as they talked the night away.
Saying all
the things they had said before in letters that had gone unread.
The next
morning, although physically and mentally they were collectively, a spent
force, they had never felt more alive as they had found each other again, and
the happiness that went along with that reunion.
But as
happy as she was that the man she loved was back in her life she was eager to
get back to Heathervale to see her mum.
The heavy
snow of the day before had given way to rain during the night so they thought
the trains would be running some kind of service, the only problem was getting
her out of his room unseen.
So Ronald
went down the stairs first and distracted Mrs. Cleary while Fiona slipped out
unseen into the street then they walked to the station together.
Although
the station was open and trains were running there was a greatly reduced
service due to the previous day’s cancellations, which was going to result in a
rather lengthy wait on the platform.
He left her
looking at the revised timetable while he went and got the tickets, and when he
returned she said
“There’s a
train going south in ten minutes, but I’ve got a longer wait for a train to
Heathervale”
“That’s ok
because I’m coming with you” Ronald said
“You don’t
have to do that” she said
“I know,
but I’m not letting you get away from me again without knowing where to find
you” he said
“Don’t
worry you’re mine now, forever” Fiona said and they kissed
