Just One More Day

by Jessica Blair

Genres: Sagas; Historical Romance

Synopsis

When Britain declares war on Germany in 1939, Carolyn Maddison is still a schoolgirl. Her elder brother Alastair wastes no time in joining the RAF as a flying officer, and Carolyn decides that when she is eighteen she will follow him into the service by joining the Women's Auxiliary Air Force.

While reporting to the Air Ministry in London she meets a good-looking, charismatic pilot, Charlie Wade, currently employed in propaganda work. He believes that with her calm demeanor and resilience, Carolyn should work as an Intelligence officer, and suggests she serve on an active bombing station. At her side throughout the courses and postings that follow is Lucy Gaston, naturally quick-witted and sparky, a perfect foil for her friend.

The young WAAFs both obtain prestigious postings in 5 Group Bomber Command, where they perform the vital tasks of briefing and debriefing aircrew returning from operations over Germany. Lucy, an incorrigible optimist, falls head over heels for a member of a Lancaster bomber crew while Carolyn resists her feelings for its dashing pilot. She decides it's not worth the risk of loving a man in wartime. . . only to wonder if she has done the right thing when a new WAAF on the station sets her cap at him.

For Lucy and Carolyn, life on a WWII bombing station brings drama, heartbreak and suspense in this touching love story.

Release date: February 5, 2015

Publisher: Little, Brown Book Group

Print pages: 384

Sample

Seventeen-year-old Carolyn Maddison glanced at the clock on her bedroom wall. Ten minutes to eleven. She put down her copy of Daphne du Maurier’s Rebecca, rose from her chair and stood looking out of the window.

The garden of the detached house in the tiny village of Nunthorpe on the outskirts of Middlesbrough, where her father practised as a solicitor, looked pristine under the care of their gardener. Carolyn loved the view from her bedroom; especially when the summer colours were beginning to acquire the tints of autumn. The seasonal cycle seemed to her a sign of permanency, something which would always be there for her. But even as that thought occurred to her, she realized that in a few minutes’ time she might hear that her world was to be turned upside down and her future become uncertain.

Up to now she, her brother Alastair and their mother Sally had lived very comfortably. Her father’s solicitor’s practice did well and besides that Guy Maddison’s great-aunt Maud, with no children of her own, had left the bulk of her fortune to him. Carolyn’s father had invested it wisely after consultation with his wife, and when the time came there had been money to pay boarding fees for their son Alastair at Ampleforth and for Carolyn at the Bar Convent in York, where her mother had been educated.

When he was eighteen next month Alastair would be making a new life for himself away from home and already his mother was beginning to feel the loss. Still, she would have Carolyn for another year before her daughter too took her first steps into the wide world beyond.

But in a few minutes all that could be changed.

Carolyn gazed for a moment longer at the garden. Was she trying to impress the tranquil scene on her mind for ever?

She stepped out on to the landing. Almost at the same moment Alastair appeared from his room.

‘Is this it?’ she asked her brother.

His answering grimace told her he felt sure it would be.

‘What will you do?’ she asked.

‘If it happens, I’ll volunteer for pilot training in the RAF.’

They walked down the wide curving staircase side by side and crossed the hall to the sitting room. Alastair opened the door for his sister and followed her in. Their mother gave them a nervous smile. Their father turned away from the wireless, which he had just switched on.

Carolyn went to her mother, kissed her on the cheek and pressed her hand reassuringly, then joined her brother on the settee.

The hands of the clock on the mantelpiece neared 11.15 a.m.

Silence seemed to hang heavily in the room even though the wireless was on. The family felt helpless to influence the announcement they were about to hear – yet still they hoped it would be not what they feared.

‘… This morning, the British Ambassador in Berlin handed the German government a final note, stating that unless the British government heard from them by eleven o’clock that they were prepared to withdraw their troops from Poland, a state of war would exist between us. I have to tell you now no such understanding has been received, and that consequently this country is at war with Germany…’ 

When the Prime Minister finished his announcement, Guy rose from his chair without a word and switched off the wireless.

The date 3 September 1939 was one they would always remember.

‘The poor man,’ said Sally quietly with a catch in her voice.

‘Well, that’s that. We’re at war,’ said Guy.

‘I’m going to volunteer for flying duties with the RAF,’ said Alastair firmly, believing it was best to announce his decision now. He registered his parents’ stunned silence and added, ‘Please don’t try and stop me. I’d rather do this now and have a choice how I serve than wait and be conscripted and sent anywhere.’

‘Alastair, you don’t know what you’re saying!’ his mother protested, with tears coming to her eyes.

‘I do, Mother. I’ve been giving it some thought ever since I learned war had become inevitable.’

‘But you’re only…’ The words caught in her throat.

Her husband came to kneel beside Sally and take her in his arms. He whispered for only her to hear, ‘Give him your love. Support him.’

She gave a little nod and held out her arms to her son. As she held him she said, ‘I’ll always be here for all of you. Whatever lies ahead we’ll get through. You have my blessing, Alastair. God go with you.’

The next day he headed for London.

Carolyn stretched out in bed and flung her arms wide to embrace the new April day hoping it would be warm and sunny. She had a fortnight’s holiday remaining before she must return to York for her last term at the Bar Convent.

She had promised herself that when that time came she would volunteer for service in the WAAFs. Although she had already hinted to her parents that this was what she wanted to do, they were withholding their approval, at least for the time being: ‘Wait and see if you still feel the same when you finish at the Convent.’ But she was certain she would not deviate from her desire to join the Women’s Auxiliary Air Force and emulate her brother’s success in the RAF. Alastair’s natural flying ability had brought him praise and his pilot’s Wings in short order. He was swiftly commissioned as a pilot officer. Though his parents were proud of his achievements they were anxious when they learned he would be moving south from Acklington to join a front-line squadron flying Spitfires, and were reluctant to sanction Carolyn’s desire to emulate him by entering the women’s branch of the service.

She swung out of bed and prepared herself for the day ahead, turning over various ideas. She had only herself to please; her mother and father were in Newcastle visiting her mother’s sister and would not be back for a couple of days.

She enjoyed her breakfast while sitting by the window overlooking the garden. Judging the weather to be settled, Carolyn decided she would enjoy a bike ride into Middlesbrough to visit her gran. On being widowed, Guy Maddison’s mother Mary Jane had worked hard to give her son a good education. He had appreciated that and had rewarded her many sacrifices by qualifying as a solicitor. Though he and his wife had wanted Mary Jane to live with them when they moved to the village of Nunthorpe, she had refused their offer: ‘You have your own lives. You are near enough if ever I want you. My friends are all around me here and I have my niece Irene next door. She’ll keep her eye on me. I’ll be all right.’

She’d kept to that policy even after the outbreak of war and remained undaunted even at night. Whenever the sirens wailed across Middlesbrough her niece would go in to ask her: ‘Are you coming to the shelter tonight, Aunt?’

‘Nay, lass. If them Germans want to kill me, they can kill me in my own bed.’

 

Carolyn washed her breakfast plates and a few minutes later was pedalling away from Nunthorpe. She had been woken during the night but the bombing had sounded so distant she had ignored it, telling herself the bombs would be aimed at the industrial complexes and shipping towards the mouth of the River Tees. She hoped the bombers had been unsuccessful in finding their targets and that no one had been killed.

She hummed happily as she enjoyed the ride, but fell silent when she turned into the street where her grandmother lived. Mary Jane’s house and those of her neighbours were no longer there, replaced instead by a chaotic mountain of bricks and stones through which twisted metal reared dark against the sky.

Gran! The name rang through Carolyn’s mind. She knew her grandmother’s policy of staying out of the public shelter. But maybe last night… Eyes filled with concern and hope, Carolyn scanned the busy scene. People in dungarees, overalls and steel helmets were working busily everywhere she looked. Two lorries and a fire-engine, their jobs done, were parked close by a huge hole in the road. Around it were piles of broken bricks shrouded in a melancholy deposit of grey dust. The front wall of a nearby house had been blasted away. Patterned bed-sheets flapped in the breeze beside a wardrobe hanging precariously from what remained of the floor. Furniture smashed by the bomb blast lay scattered on the ground, a pathetic reminder of what had once been a comfortable, treasured home.

Carolyn jumped off her bike, pushed it to one side and rushed forward. ‘Gran!’ She must find her! Please God, let her be safe!

‘Sorry, miss, you can’t go through there,’ said a policeman standing by a tape drawn across the road.

‘It’s my grandmother! She lives there!’ cried Carolyn, on the verge of tears, not wanting her worst suspicions to be true.

Moved by her anguish the policeman asked gently, ‘Is that her, over there?’

Carolyn glanced across the scene of devastation, hope sending her heart soaring. A fireman who had obscured her view moved, and relief coursed through Carolyn. Her beloved gran was alive! But how could she have survived this devastation?

‘Come on, lass, I’ll take you over to her.’ The policeman lifted the tape and, as Carolyn slipped under it, signalled to another officer to take his place.

‘Careful how you tread,’ he warned. ‘There’s glass everywhere.’ He led the way through heaps of bricks and mortar. ‘Mind this wood, lass, it’s lethal,’ he added, indicating the jagged pieces as he inched past a waist-high pile.

‘Missus, your granddaughter’s here.’

Mary Jane was gazing down at a framed photograph clutched in her hand. Tears streaked her cheeks. ‘Carolyn!’ The relief she felt on seeing her granddaughter was touching.

Carolyn took her in her arms. ‘Everything’s going to be all right, Gran.’

‘But look, those Germans tried to destroy my photograph,’ sobbed Mary Jane. ‘It’s that nice one of you with your Granddad.’

Carolyn glanced at it and recalled seeing it standing on the mantelpiece in her granny’s ‘best room’. They had been in the garden at Nunthorpe when the photograph had been taken; she remembered being asked to give her gran a special smile.

‘Give it to me, missus,’ said the policeman, gently taking it from her hand. ‘I’ll be back in a few minutes.’ He looked at Carolyn. ‘Your grandmother has been checked out. Can you take her home with you?’

‘Yes,’ replied the girl firmly.

‘Good. I’ll get some transport for you.’ He called to a nurse and in a few moments they had an ambulance organized.

‘Thank you,’ said Carolyn. ‘What happened to the people who lived next door?’

The policeman drew her to one side while the nurse came over to her gran. ‘They and the other people in the shelter are being checked out. No serious casualties, thank God. Your grandmother was dealt with first because of her age. She insisted on coming back here to see the damage. She’s done very well. The nurse will have a word with you. Now for that photograph.’ He smiled and went off.

The nurse introduced herself and started to note down where Carolyn’s grandmother would be living for the present.

When this had been done the nurse concluded, ‘Your granny is a tough lady, but there could be a reaction when what has happened starts to sink in. Will you be on your own with her?’

‘Today and tomorrow. My parents are in Newcastle, due home the day after tomorrow.’

‘Good. I don’t think there is any need to worry them now. I will give you details of where to contact me and visit on the evening of your parents’ return, if that is convenient?’

‘Of course.’

‘The ambulance will be here shortly. There’ll be two orderlies to see you home, and they’ll put your bike in the back.’

‘Thank you.’

As the nurse hurried away to instruct the orderlies, the policeman returned.

‘There you are, missus.’ He held out the photograph, neatly restored to its frame.

‘Oh, thank you.’ Tears of relief at having her beloved photograph returned to her streamed down Mary Jane’s face.

‘There’s plenty of glass about, missus,’ said the man with a sympathetic smile. He leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. ‘You take care and do as your lovely granddaughter tells you.’

Within ten minutes the ambulance was on its way to Nunthorpe. Mary Jane clutched her photograph in one hand and Carolyn held the other.

‘Gran, what happened when the sirens went? Were you not at home?’ Carolyn’s curiosity could not be restrained any longer. She had to know how her grandmother had survived the bomb.

‘No, I was there. Irene came in as usual to ask me to go to the shelter. I was on the point of saying I’d stay in bed, but something made me change my mind.’ She thought about this and added, ‘I think God didn’t want those Germans to kill me. Maybe He still has a purpose for me to fulfil.’

 

Two days later Carolyn and her grandmother were enjoying a cup of tea while sitting in the lounge with the French windows open to the sun. Carolyn was pleased with the way her gran had coped with the shock of the bombing and losing her home, but had no doubt that the experience would have left its mark. Her thoughts were interrupted by the opening of the front door.

‘We’re home!’

‘Mum… Dad. They’re here, Gran!’ Carolyn jumped to her feet and rushed into the hall. ‘Welcome back,’ she cried, and hugged and kissed them both. Then she linked arms with her parents, saying, ‘Come with me, I’ve something to show you.’ She guided them towards the door to the lounge. ‘Someone’s here to see you.’

Guy and Sally gasped at the unexpected sight of Mary Jane.

‘Gran will be staying with us a little while,’ explained Carolyn as her parents and grandmother said how delighted they were to see each other.

‘What’s happened?’ asked Sally, a little suspiciously. Although she knew her mother-in-law liked to visit them, she usually gave them advance warning. ‘Are you ill?’

Mary Jane gave a little chuckle. ‘No, I’m fit as a fiddle, but that stupid man Hitler tried to kill me!’

For a moment there was a stunned silence then Guy said quietly, ‘What did you say?’

‘Gran was bombed out.’ Carolyn explained.

‘What?

‘Two nights ago,’ added Carolyn. ‘A direct hit on her house.’

Knowing her mother-in-law’s attitude to air raids, Sally was astounded. ‘Weren’t you in bed?’

‘When Irene came in as usual, I decided to go with her to the shelter.’

Sally sank back into a chair, staring in disbelief at her mother-in-law. ‘Thank goodness you did.’

‘A miracle,’ agreed Guy. ‘It’s a miracle. Someone was certainly looking after you, Mother.’ He sat down, saying, ‘Now tell us everything.’

‘A cup of tea for you first?’ Carolyn enquired.

‘No,’ said Sally. ‘We can’t wait, tell us what happened.’

Between them Gran and Carolyn explained.

When they had finished, Sally said, ‘Thank goodness Carolyn was here.’

‘She’s been a gem,’ her gran agreed with an appreciative smile. ‘Now I’ll get that cup of tea for you. Then, while you two get unpacked, Carolyn and I will prepare a meal.’

Sally started to protest but her mother-in-law interrupted. ‘I’m not going to sit around like an invalid. Let me be useful.’

Knowing it was Mary Jane’s habit to always keep busy, and judging it would be good for her to keep occupied, Sally agreed. She went to kiss her mother-in-law then. ‘You do know you are welcome to come here and live with us, don’t you?’

Mary Jane patted her hand. ‘Thank you, Sally, I appreciate that. We’ll see.’

 

The bombing was mentioned again over the meal.

‘You really should come and live here permanently, Mother,’ said Guy. ‘Things are not going well for us in Europe; the Army is having little success. If things get worse, goodness knows what will happen.’

‘I know what I want to do,’ put in Carolyn. ‘What happened to Gran has made me even more determined to join the WAAFs. I’m going to volunteer as soon as I finish school.’

‘Not now, Carolyn,’ said Sally. ‘We agreed this subject would be left until then.’

‘Mother, my mind is made up. That is what I want to do and will do, as soon as I’m finished at the convent. I’ll be old enough then.’

Sally tensed, recognizing that Carolyn saying ‘Mother’ instead of ‘Mum’ showed that her daughter was determined to have her way.

‘But, Carolyn, so much can happen in a few months,’ put in her father. ‘Let’s wait till the summer.’

‘It’s already happened,’ she replied. ‘Gran’s been bombed out and Alastair is serving with a fighter squadron. That’s sufficient motivation for me.’

There was a moment’s silence. Gran seized her chance to speak.

‘Please don’t think I am interfering with what I am about to say, but it is my firm belief that if parents support their child in what he or she wants to do, then the child is more likely to succeed and be a credit to them. And, more importantly, they will always keep that child’s love.’

The wisdom of this observation was palpable. Carolyn was tense; she was sure her future hung on how her gran’s words were received. Guy and Sally knew there was a lot of truth in what Mary Jane said. He glanced at his wife. Each read the other’s thoughts the moment their eyes met.

‘All right, Carolyn, your mother and I will support you in what ever you want to do, when the time comes for you to leave school,’ Guy declared.

‘Oh, thank you!’ She jumped up from her chair and was round the table in a flash to kiss them both and then her gran. Recognizing the important part her grandmother had played, Carolyn whispered, ‘Thanks.’

Pleased to see her granddaughter happy, Gran replied quietly, ‘Now I know why God performed that miracle!’

But she began to wonder if He had no miracles left when the news turned blacker in the next few weeks.

‘I have every sympathy for the Prime Minister,’ she commented on hearing of his resignation on the tenth of May.

‘He was a weary man,’ commented Sally.

‘Having to take the country to war overwhelmed him,’ Guy put in. ‘Maybe Churchill can rally everybody. He has a certain tenacity, though he is not popular with some MPs.’

But gloom deepened and spread with the news that the Army was falling back to the beaches of Dunkirk. There was an appeal for every sort of vessel to come to the rescue of the stranded British Expeditionary Force.

‘We need another miracle,’ commented Gran.

‘Indeed we do,’ agreed Sally. ‘Do you think we should bring Carolyn home, Guy?’

‘No. She is so near to finishing school. Let her do so.’

By the time her exams were out of the way the miracle had happened. Many more men were snatched from the beaches of Dunkirk than had been expected, though the figures for the dead, wounded and those taken prisoner were huge.

Europe had been overrun by the German war-machine. Only a twenty-mile strip of water lay between Britain and invasion.

‘Alastair!’ Sally gasped when her son walked into the kitchen unannounced. She rushed to him, her embrace expressing all the relief and joy she felt. Still holding his hands she took a step back. ‘Let me look at you.’ His mother’s keen eyes studied him. ‘You’re pale and tired… worn out in fact. I can see it even though you’re trying to hide it.’

He gave a little laugh. ‘Can’t escape a mother’s anxiety, can I?’

‘A mother’s privilege.’ She linked arms with him and led him into the lounge, calling out as they crossed the hall, ‘Gran, Carolyn, there’s a surprise for you.’

Curiosity brought Carolyn hurrying from her bedroom where she had been sorting out some clothes. Her gran followed from her room and together they entered the lounge. They gulped with surprise to see who was awaiting them.

‘Alastair!’ Carolyn screamed with delight and flung herself into her brother’s arms. ‘I can’t believe it! I just can’t.’

He kissed her on the cheek and then stepped forward to greet his gran. ‘You look as radiant as ever. Glad to see Hitler couldn’t break your spirit with his bombs.’

‘It would take more than that,’ she retorted, defiance in her voice.

‘We need more like you, Gran.’

‘How long are you here for?’ asked his mother.

‘Four days,’ Alastair replied, and added teasingly, ‘if you’ll have me?’

‘Hang on,’ called Carolyn. ‘Let’s make a cup of tea and then Alastair can tell us everything.’

Within a few minutes they were all seated with their tea and slices of fruit cake.

‘This is a bit of a luxury, isn’t it?’ commented Alastair, and bit into his slice of cake.

‘Some fruit I had left over from last Christmas, and we scrimped the other ingredients from our rations,’ explained Sally.

‘You manage all right then?’

‘As soon as rationing came in early in the year Gran and I got our heads together to work out the best way of stretching supplies by combining them with things that aren’t rationed. But it’s not easy. A weekly six ounces of butter, eight ounces of sugar, two ounces of tea, three eggs and so on is not a lot to get by on, but we manage. Your father’s contribution is turning some of the flowerbeds into vegetable plots and he’s studying the best varieties of potato to grow. But how goes it with you? How have you managed to get four days’ leave?’

‘The whole squadron has been stood down… we are all a bit weary. We’ve been in the air every day for goodness knows how long. It seems a life time. We gave cover for our troops over France and during the retreat to Dunkirk, and air cover for the beaches during the evacuation. You may hear reports that we weren’t over the beaches, but a lot of the action was taking place miles away to prevent enemy planes even getting there. Inevitably some did, though.’ Alastair took another sip of his tea and savoured it. ‘The best cup I’ve had for a long time, and that cake is out of this world.’

‘How did you get here?’ asked Sally. ‘No, wait, let’s get you settled. Your father said he would be home early today – two o’clock-ish. You can tell us more then.’

‘Good idea, Mum.’

‘Come on. You and I will see if your room is ready for you. And then no doubt you’d like to freshen up?’

‘Yes, I would,’ he agreed.

As they went upstairs together Sally felt worried for her son, though she kept that to herself. He looked so tired. Lines of stress furrowed Alastair’s face; he had lost his youthful glow. It was as if he had lived years in the months he had been away from them.

‘Oh, just as I left it,’ he commented as he walked into his room.

‘Well, more or less. I tidied up a bit,’ said Sally.

‘That bed looks comfortable,’ he said wistfully.

She smiled tentatively. He looked so drained.

He caught the unease behind her expression, came over and hugged her. ‘Don’t worry, Mum. I’m all right, just tired.’

‘Have a lie down until your father gets here.’

‘No, that would mean wasting precious minutes I could spend with you all.’

She was grateful for his thoughtfulness.

When she went downstairs and into the kitchen, Sally found it a hive of activity. ‘You both look busy,’ she commented.

‘Gran suggested she and I should serve up the fatted calf this evening,’ Carolyn explained.

‘And how are you doing?’

‘You’ll see,’ said Gran. ‘When Alastair comes down again, you spend some time with him,’ she went on in a voice that demanded to be obeyed.

When Guy came home shortly before two, he was astonished and delighted to see his son.

‘How did you get here?’ he queried

‘I was lucky, our squadron leader brought me,’ explained Alastair. ‘He runs an MG. Don’t ask where he gets the petrol but he does. Ask no questions, hear no lies. He’s married; his home is in Corbridge. He offered me a lift and will pick me up on the way back.’

‘He dropped you at our door?’ asked Sally with surprise. ‘You should have asked him in.’

‘I did but he wanted to get home. I’ll get him to say hello when he picks me up.’

‘See that you do,’ said his father.

Chatter flowed throughout the rest of the day, particularly during the meal when Guy produced one of the bottles of wine that he had laid in when hostilities seemed inevitable. Tonight they would celebrate; they were together as a family once more. Who knew when the next similar occasion would be?

Before they retired for the night, Guy sought a chance to have a word with his son when the others were out of earshot. ‘Do you think Hitler is going to invade?’

‘Who knows? I thought he would have done immediately we left Dunkirk, but there are no indications of it. Whatever happens, we in Fighter Command are ready.’

‘But have we sufficient men and planes?’

‘We’ll make the best use of what we have,’ Alastair replied. ‘That’s all I can say, Dad.’

His father knew better than to try and ask more.

 

The next day, when Carolyn got her brother on her own, her questions were far less restrained.

‘I’ll be leaving school at the end of June. I have always said that when I do, I will join the WAAFs. With the situation as it is, do you think I am right in pursuing that idea still?’

‘Have Mum and Dad said yes?’

‘More or less.’

‘Then go ahead. Nobody knows how things will turn out, but I am of the opinion Churchill will be doing all he can to keep this country alive and kicking. Yes, join the WAAFs if that is what you want to do.’ Alastair saw the relief on his sister’s face and knew that he had given the answer she wanted to hear so he went on, ‘If you do, I would advise you to set your stall out and do your very best in your paricular trade – aim at getting a Commission. It will give you something to work for and ensure you of a better life within the RAF – not that that should be your principle aim. Try and serve your country to the best of your ability. I believe that you will best achieve that through taking a Commission.’

Carolyn smiled and kissed her brother on the cheek. ‘Thanks for that. Now my mind is made up, I’ll go ahead.’

 

The squadron leader halted his MG outside the house in Nunthorpe very promptly. Alastair glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. ‘I told you he was a stickler for timekeeping.’

‘Invite him in,’ said Guy.

In a few minutes introductions had been made and the senior officer was relaxing with a cup of tea. Once he had finished it he looked at his watch. ‘This has been very enjoyable and I’m pleased to have met Alastair’s family,’ he said, rising to his feet. ‘He is a credit to the squadron.’

‘You see you look after my grandson,’ said Gran seriously when she shook hands with him.

He smiled. ‘I’ll be sure to do that, Mrs Maddison.’ He kissed her on the cheek, ‘There, that’s a promise.’

‘Sealed with a kiss,’ she chuckled.

As they watched the car drive away Sally was sad to think that soon she would be waving goodbye to her daughter also.

But that did not come about as soon as she had expected. July moved into August, which gave way to the cooler weather of September.

‘I’ve volunteered. I should have been called up before now,’ Carolyn moaned once more at the breakfast table. ‘Don’t they want me to win the war for them?’ she added peevishly.

An hour later she had to withdraw those remarks when the post arrived and she was able to announce with excitement in her voice, ‘I’ve to report to the Air Ministry a week today!’

 

Though the parting had tugged at her heartstrings, Carolyn had fought against shedding a tear. Her mother had put on a brave face and her father had masked his feelings with a forced smile and a wink as the train started to steam out of Middlesbrough station. Her mother reached out. Carolyn, lowering the window in the door, took her hand and squeezed it as she mouthed the words, ‘I’ll be all right, Mum. Love you.’

‘Look out, Carolyn!’ The sharp tone of her father’s voice startled her but she realized why he had warned her when she saw a young RAF officer come running on to the platform and make straight for the nearest door, which was hers. Carolyn stepped back hurriedly. The young man grasped the handle, turned it, hurled himself inside, tumbling into her as he slammed the door behind him.

‘Sorry!’ he gasped as he straightened up and dropped his kit bag.

‘That’s all right,’ replied Carolyn automatically. Then her own politeness struck her as funny and her face lit up in a broad smile. ‘At least you caught the train.’

‘Only just.’ He moved to one side. ‘Come back to the window. You were saying your goodbyes.’

‘Thanks.’ She leaned out and saw the incident had eased the strain of parting. Her parents were as amused as she was by the near miss.

Carolyn waved until they were out of sight then straightened up and str. . .