‘Dear God,’ she whispered and turned to see the back of the cinema covered in blast holes too. ‘We were awfully close.’
‘Bloody UXBs. Even more dramatic than the damn film,’ Bruce said wryly. ‘Although that postmistress with the axe – the look on her face. Terrifying. Next time let’s make sure we come to see a love story.’
‘Or a comedy,’ she suggested. ‘I don’t think I can take any more shocks. A good laugh is what I need.’
After the drama had faded, Florence focused constantly on the incident that had happened in the library. The thought of what the woman might be spreading abouther haunted her and her life in Devon felt fragile. She hadn’t seen Bruce since that night. He had written to her, twice. Once to say how much he’d enjoyed the film with her despite the dramatic ending to their outing. And then, just before they were due to meet again, he sent her a note saying his mother was ill and between looking after her and his duties at the hospital he wouldn’t be free for a little while. She felt disappointed but wrote back wishing Grace well.
Although she longed for Jack to hold her, to feel his body strong and comforting – which it would be, she knew it would be – she hadn’t shared her worry about whatever gossip Mrs Wicks might be circulating. Instead, she told Gladys, who didn’t know the truth about her father, and Gladys had said not to worry and promised to have a word in the village. Of course, Florence did still worry. How could she not? And the thought of Friedrich and Anton frequently played on her mind too, and she hoped they were safe.
And now, in these days of waiting, she and Jack listened to the wireless in nervous expectation, as the news came fast and furious. On 2 May, when they heard that Berlin had surrendered to the Russian Army, Jack cheered and Florence clapped, and then again two days later, when a section of the German Army surrendered.
‘Jack,’ she asked, ‘how will things be in Germany? For Friedrich and Anton, I mean.’
‘I really don’t know. One thing is certain, their lives won’t be easy. At least not for a while.’
On 7 May, the newsreader on the wireless announcedthat the new German President, Admiral Karl Dönitz, had authorised the unconditional surrender of the armed forces of Nazi Germany. The newsreader added that the very next day would be celebrated throughout Great Britain as Victory in Europe Day.
Florence and Jack gazed at each other with tears in their eyes. So much had happened to them both during this interminable war, it was almost impossible to believe that in Europe, at least, it was over. She closed her eyes for a moment as her thoughts travelled to her sisters in France and to all the people who had suffered so terribly there. And then, unable to stop herself, she wept with Jack holding her in his arms.
CHAPTER 26
8 May 1945, VE Day
The next day Florence wore a blue and white spotted dress with puffed sleeves. She’d added red piping and red buttons to be especially patriotic and was delighted with the result. The weather was overcast but dry and now she, Jack, Gladys and Ronnie were heading to the village in the farm truck. Florence couldn’t help smiling at the idea of what the ‘jollifications’ – as Gladys called them – would be like. After six long years it would need time for everything to fully sink in, but this really was going to be a day to remember, as long as Mrs Wicks hadn’t done too much damage with her gossip-mongering.
Before they parked, Gladys pulled up so they could take a peek at the main street and the scene that met their eyes was exciting. Doorways and windows festooned with boughs of greenery interspersed with spring and earlysummer flowers gave the village a feel of times gone by. People wearing home-made red, white and blue paper hats were setting out trestle tables, carrying chairs on their shoulders, or delivering precariously wobbling piles of crockery. Children in fancy dress – elves, princesses, soldiers – were racing around waving streamers and squealing, while a brass band tested its instruments, and acres of Union Jacks and red, white and blue bunting fluttered overhead. Florence felt a surge of absolute jubilation. The war in Europe really was over.
‘Can’t imagine what they think we’re all going to eat,’ Gladys muttered as they swerved away from the main road and parked down a side street. ‘We’ll share, of course, but I haven’t got enough to feed the entire village.’
‘Everyone will bring something and there’ll be home brew,’ Jack said. ‘Lots of it.’
‘And cider,’ Gladys added.
She and Jack unloaded a small table and four chairs from the back of the truck.
‘I’m guessing a lot a people will be relieving themselves behind the hedges,’ Ronnie muttered.
Oh God, really? Florence thought, but then laughed out loud. In this fantastic dizzying moment it didn’t matter. To hell with it. To hell with the Nazis. To hell with everything. Nothing mattered today but letting your hair down and having fun. They’d waited long enough, hadn’t they? It was a glorious day. A wonderful day. A day to rejoice.
And rejoice they did. First the brass band played ‘Land of Hope and Glory’. Admittedly not terribly well, and Florence suppressed a smile behind her hand, but stillshe clapped and cheered with the rest of them. Then came a parade of the Home Guard, followed by police and local servicemen with old boys from the First World War proudly joining in, their polished medals shining. A dense crowd of jostling villagers and children came next, and the entire motley crew ended up at the parish church where a banner proclaimingGod Save the Kinghung jauntily on the church railings. Nobody gave her funny looks so whatever Gladys had said, it must have put to bed anything mean Mrs Wicks might have been spreading and Florence felt relieved.
Once inside the church it was time for prayers of thanks and hymns.
But there were bittersweet moments, too. Florence heard sobs coming from a woman at the back, because although this was a day of celebration, too many women had lost their fathers, husbands, sweethearts, sons, or brothers. And the fact was that some of the menfolk were still away fighting the Japanese in Malaya and Burma. She heard Churchill’s words ringing in her head. ‘Japan unsubdued … unspeakable cruelties.’
Sitting next to her in the pew, Gladys was clutching a handkerchief and dabbing her eyes and Florence’s heart went out to her. Jack, too, was staring at his lap, clearly thinking of his little boy. Florence put a hand on his arm, and he glanced sideways at her, nodding his acknowledgement. She felt her eyes grow damp at the thought of her sisters in France without her, the little niece she’d never seen, and everything they’d all been through. The vicar told them that while the darkness and danger wereover and it was a day to rejoice, they must never forget the fallen, nor the terrible price that had been paid.
‘As a strong brotherhood of man,’ he added, his voice catching, ‘we must put our faith in God and build the future together.’
When the church service was over, and while the bells were ringing, Florence asked Jack if he was all right. He smiled such a sad smile it almost made her cry again. ‘I’m so sorry, Jack,’ she said.
‘Come on,’ he replied. ‘We can’t dwell on the past. Not today. The only thing to decide now is beer or cider?’
Florence pulled a face at the thought of beer, and soon after was happy to rapidly down a pint of home-made cider. ‘To the future,’ she said and smiled at him. She’d been about to say ‘to us’ but had caught herself just in time.
The cider went straight to her head, as even though Jack had suggested it might be a good idea to eat lunch before the party, she’d been too excited.
The children got up a rowdy tug of war to loud laughter when both sides let go at the same time and they all fell on their bottoms. Then Florence watched in amazement as the vicar’s son wheeled out a piano.
