Bobby went to perch on his knee again, wrapping her arms around his neck. ‘Like what?’
‘Why does it bother me so much?’ He rubbed his eyes. ‘I didn’t meet many airmen who truly hated the enemy when I was in the RAF. Yes, you’d get the odd one who muttered darkly that the only good German was a dead German – those who’d made it personal. But for most, it was just the job. They were doing a job when they flew out to drop their bombs, and they recognised that the Luftwaffe men were doing a job when they tried to shoot them down. They told themselves that there was nothing more important than stopping Hitler, so they put feelings aside and got on with it. Yet it seemed that no matter how often I told myself the same thing, I couldn’t detach myself the way they could.’ He hid his face in her shoulder and choked on a sob. ‘I never should have passed the aircrew selection process.’
‘You’re that way because you’re you,’ Bobby said softly. ‘You can’t help feeling because it’s the person you are.’
‘I don’t have a monopoly on feeling, do I? I met a lot of good men in the RAF, but being good men didn’t stop them doing their duty.’
‘Compassion combined with imagination is your curse. You visualise too much, Charlie. You’re right, they never should have passed you as suitable for aircrew.’
‘No.’ He closed his eyes. ‘Still, I loved flying. I was good at it, and I did want to use that to help win this thing. I wish I’d been stronger.’
‘You are strong. It’s just a different kind of strength.’ She stroked his hair. ‘You know that whatever decision you make,I’ll support you. But just remember that they’re not offering you the DFC for killing Germans. They’re offering it to you for saving lives.’
‘Why should I deserve it? Every man who’s still flying deserves it more, because they kept going when I failed. They’re risking their lives while I’m keeping house like a woman with a discharge certificate that says “wounded in the course of duty” where it should say “cowardice in the face of the enemy”. I might have saved the men who flew with me on that op, but two others are dead because I made the wrong call on another one.’
‘I know you feel guilty, Charlie. I know it’s complicated, but you do deserve it.’ She kissed him. ‘But like I said, it’s up to you.’
Chapter 9
Later, Bobby and Charlie walked to the Golden Hart to meet Lilian and Tony. They found the Scotts already there, although not together. Tony was at the bar talking to Pete Dixon, while Lilian sat by herself with her knitting and a glass of sherry.
The Hart had an almost cosmopolitan flavour these days compared to the staid, old-fashioned place it had been when Bobby had first entered it. It had been a man’s domain then, its only female patron being eccentric Maimie Hobbes, Topsy’s former nanny. The regulars had evinced a certain wariness when this girl from the city had first appeared in their midst.
It was true that in appearance, the Hart had changed little. The floor was still bare stone flags, the air thick with smoke. High-backed wooden settles still lined the walls. The clientele was decidedly more varied than the cloth-capped farmers who had been the sole patrons two years earlier, however. There were several women in here now. A couple of Land Girls laughed as they leaned against the bar. Mabs Jessop was in one of the settles with her fiancé Gil Capstick, who whispered sweet nothings to his blushing bride-to-be.
And here and there was a flash of blue or khaki: soldiers home on leave, off-duty Home Guard troops, airmen billeted locally. There was even the odd hospital uniform as some of the wounded men recuperating at Sumner House found their way into the village for a drink. It was the slate blue of the regular Air Force uniforms that drew Bobby’s eye, however, making her wistful for her days in the WAAF.
She had been granted compassionate discharge by the Air Force with the idea that she would be needed to make a home for her injured husband. Bobby couldn’t help feeling guilty thatin their reversed roles, it was actually Charlie who was making a home for her.
It made her wonder if she’d have been better off remaining in the WAAF, where there were higher wages to be had, and sending money home until Charlie was able to find work. Except that Marmaduke would have made staying in the services impossible before long, of course.
Bobby hoped something would turn up for Charlie soon, but it worried her what this was likely to be. The jobs in their farming community were all active, and his injuries meant he was no longer fit for prolonged outdoor work. Nevertheless, he had a private education and a good brain. That had to count for something, even if he needed to travel for work.
He could be a clerk in an office, perhaps, where his injuries wouldn’t be such an issue. True, the pay was likely to be lower than he was used to, but work was work. It would still be more than Bobby earned onThe Tyke.She’d miss the little mag, but working for it was never going to make her rich.
Bobby watched Charlie’s hands tremble as he lit a cigarette and suppressed a sigh. He had been so good with his hands, before. She remembered the wonderful dolls’ house he had carved and painted for the Parry girls last Christmas. Now, he would struggle even to grip the paintbrush.
It reminded her that there was one injury which might always pose a problem, and that was the one in Charlie’s brain. His handwriting was often barely legible thanks to the tremor in his hands. That could mean even work as a clerk would be impossible.
This bloody war, that chewed men up and spat them out with never a care for how they would survive in civilian life! Lilian was right: Bobby should be angry. It made her sick that people who had given everything for their country should be forced tosuffer for it. But what was there to be done, when men were no longer fit to work?
‘You go and join Lil if you want,’ Charlie said. ‘I’ll buy drinks and play at happy families with Tony. I just hope he’s not too well-oiled. It always brings out the worst in him.’
‘All right, I’ll have the same as our Lil. You’d better offer Tony a pint, since I told him I’d be buying.’
Charlie flushed. ‘Have you, um, got any money? I don’t want to spend the housekeeping.’
‘Oh. Yes, of course.’ Bobby surreptitiously pressed a note into his hand, knowing how humiliated he would feel if the other men saw her giving him what looked like pocket money. ‘See you in a minute, love.’
When she joined Lilian, Bobby found her sister’s knitting needles frozen in mid-stitch as she watched Tony talking to Pete. Lil’s eyes had an odd, feverish sparkle to them.
‘Are you all right?’ Bobby asked, sitting down opposite. ‘You look a world away.’
Lilian roused herself. ‘Sorry. Just hoping that old rogue isn’t trying to get my other half into trouble.’
Bobby frowned. Lil’s words were clear enough, but her pronunciation seemed slow and deliberate, as if she was having to focus to enunciate.
‘How long have you been here?’ Bobby asked, glancing at Lil’s sherry.
