‘Ronnie, my love, my dearest,’ she cried, tears streaming down her face.
A little voice murmured, ‘Dad,’ as the door at the bottom of the stair creaked open and a small boy leapt in the air. Anthony flung himself into Ronnie’s arms.
‘That’s the first time he’s called me Dad,’ Ronnie said, his depth of emotion showing all over his face.
‘You’re so thin,’ Sarah said. ‘I hardly recognised you.’
‘Albert didn’t recognise me at all,’ Ronnie replied.
Grandpa Jim stood on his ageing, wobbly legs and embraced Ronnie.
‘Welcome home, boy,’ he said, his smile getting broader. ‘We never gave up hope, but there were low times when we thought you were . . .’
‘For the past few years, I might as well have been. It was like a living hell,’ Ronnie replied. ‘I’m so happy to have survived. There were so many of us cut down. So many left maimed for life, hurt beyond repair in their bodies and their minds.’
He wept as he spoke. The trials of the last weeks and months began to catch up with him. The joy in the hearts of his family to see him alive and well, despite being half starved, was too much for his heart to bear. He couldn’t stop the outpouring of grief. It swept over him, washing over his whole being like a release valve on a dam. All that he had seen, all that he had done, the atrocities he had been forced to commit, the lives he was responsible for snuffing out like candles in the wind, surged over him. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t see, he couldn’t speak. He suddenly turned and ran out of the kitchen. He was in the garden looking up at the night sky, heaving sobs taking over his body. Sarah turned to follow him.
‘Not yet, lass. Give him a minute or two,’ Albert said. ‘He needs to remember. He needs to grieve those he has lost. He needs to forgive himself for all he has done, to come to terms with the guilt of living when his friends and comrades did not. He will come back to you, eventually. He will come back to us all, but he needs time. War does that to a man. I know. Give him time.’
Sarah nodded and they all waited patiently until Ronnie felt he could return to join the rest of the family. She settled Anthony back in bed and they all prepared to get ready for sleep.
When he returned to the house, sometime later, after he had walked himself to a happy contentment around the village that had illustrated his dreams while he was away, the house was quiet. He tiptoed up the stairs and climbed into bed next to Sarah and Anthony. She turned and kissed him, and placed an arm around him. He melted into her arms and they entered the world of sleep together, his mind peaceful and relaxed for the first time in months. He was home.
Chapter 37
October 1945
When news of VJ Day reached Tilly and Fliss in Palestine, they hoped that would be the signal for them to go home.Indeed, it was! They were relieved when they were directed to return home immediately. Tilly and Fliss embraced and held each other close for a long time when they both disembarked at Southampton docks. Tilly was reminded of how different their arrival in the Middle East had been and wondered how life could ever be resumed as normal. There was nothing normal about what they had been through together.
‘There have been good times in with the bad, haven’t there, Fliss?’ Tilly said.
‘There certainly have,’ Fliss replied.
‘Life in general will never be quite the same again,’ said Tilly. ‘One thing is for sure, we are going to be hitting the dance floor and heading for good times as soon as we’ve had a decent cup of tea and some good, wholesome, cooked meals.’
‘I’m going to be sleeping for England,’ Fliss agreed. ‘But first, I’m going to have a long, hot bath and do my nails. I’ve never neglected my appearance so much in my life.’
They both laughed and hugged each other one more time. Once they reached the other side of the Solent they parted ways, vowing to stay in touch.
‘Friends for ever,’ Tilly said, with tears in her eyes. They had been through a lot together.
‘You just try shaking me off. It’s not going to happen, my dear friend,’ Fliss said, equally emotional at their parting.
When Tilly opened the door at the School House, a little toddler came running towards her. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Tilly.
‘Don’t you recognise me, Jemima?’ Tilly said. ‘I’m your Aunt Tilly. Your mum’s sister.’
‘She was still only really a baby when you left, my lovely sister,’ Dot said, appearing behind her daughter.
The two sisters held each other tightly and when Amelia joined them from the kitchen, they all huddled together in a family group, their faces glowing with joy, their arms reluctant to let go. That first evening together was magical. They left their questions about Tilly’s experiences until another day and just enjoyed one another’s company, grateful for Tilly’s safe return. Tilly enquired after Ronnie and was so happy and excited to hear that Ronnie had survived his plane crash and landed safely, no bones broken. She couldn’t wait to see him and the rest of the family, but she needed to rest up and recover a little first.
Two days after Tilly’s arrival in Whippingham, a letter arrived in the post for her. It had a London postmark. Tilly was all fingers and thumbs as she scrabbled to open the envelope. Dot and Amelia waited with bated breath while Tilly read the contents. When she had finished, she held the letter to her chest and tears flowed down her cheeks.
‘He’s alive,’ she eventually said. ‘Jed’s alive. He survived Montecassino and came back to England. He’s been working in a London hospital ever since. He wants to come and see me in two weeks’ time. Oh, Dot, Amelia, I’m so happy. So relieved that he escaped what was the worst battle in the entire war. He must have had a guardian angel watching over him. It’s a miracle.’
‘How wonderful for you both,’ said Dot. ‘Of course, he must come. Jemima can sleep in with me and he can have her room. The bed’s a bit small, but he will manage. I’m sure.’
‘More comfortable than a camp bed any day,’ said Tilly. ‘All I need now is to hear that Fliss’s Captain Banks has survived.They exchanged addresses. He only lives in Petersfield. Not far away on the mainland. Closer than Pennsylvania anyway.’
