‘Maybe one day, but not now. I want to enjoy life and be my own person. Not be shackled to the sink and up to my elbows in dirty nappies.’
‘Good for you,’ said Marjorie. ‘But I’m sure you’ll meet someone one day who will make you think completely differently.’
Fitz wasn’t sure her friend was right, and for now she was happy as she was, doing the things she enjoyed. The only downside was it came at the expense of being at war. She was very much aware that, as an ATA ferry pilot, her experience of war was extremely different to the men fighting it out on the ground in Europe and Africa. It was very sobering to hear of people she knew from Badcombe who had been killed fightingfor their country – such young men with so much of their lives ahead of them, tragically cut short. It made her all the more determined to enjoy and savour every minute of her life, despite the awful circumstances. Life could be snatched away at any moment, she knew that from bitter experience having lost her mother, so Fitz wasn’t going to waste a second of her life.
‘Post for you, Fitz,’ said Marjorie one afternoon after they had been out flying on what was the last week of training. She dropped the two letters into Fitz’s lap.
Fitz looked at the handwriting. ‘One from Pa and one from Michael,’ she said, choosing to open Michael’s first.
Master Michael Fitz-Herbert
Badcombe House
Little Badcombe
Cambridgeshire
13th May, 1941
Dear Geraldine
How are you? Are you flying lots of aeroplanes? Every time one goes over the house, I always look out of the window and wonder whether it’s you up there. I’ve been keeping a log of all the planes that fly over, the time and what type they are. Have you been over Badcombe? If you do go over the house next time can you tip the wings or dive down, just so I know it’s you?
Are you coming home on leave soon? I asked Pa if I could come and see you but he said hedidn’t think that was possible because you don’t get many days off and you could be anywhere in the country depending on what planes you were delivering and where.
You should see the garden! It’s all been dug up to grow vegetables. Mummy said everyone must do their bit. There are posters in the village saying Dig for Victory. We have so many potatoes, I’ve been cycling down to the shop and leaving them there so people in the village can have some. We have a lot of carrots, too.
We are going to have some children from London to stay with us. Mummy said we will have two children who are brother and sister, like you and me. The boy is a year younger than me and the girl is two years younger so I’ll be the oldest for once. I heard Cook say to Annie that Mummy lost a little girl but I don’t know what she meant by that. Do you know anything about a little girl? I asked Cook and she said I shouldn’t have been listening to grown-up talk and I wasn’t to repeat a word of it. So I still have no idea what they meant. Maybe you can tell me?
I should go now. It’s teatime and Cook wants me to help Annie pick some fruit to make a pie.
I really hope you can come and visit soon. It’s awfully lonely in the house now you’ve gone. Pa said I wasn’t to make you feel homesick by telling you that I miss you, so I had better not say anything.
With love from your brother
Michael
Fitz stumbled at the part where Michael had overheard Cook and Annie talking. Of course, Fitz knew exactly what they meant but she had no idea that Camilla had lost a child. Was it a miscarriage or a stillborn? If it had been after Michael was born, then how had Fitz not known her stepmother was expecting another baby, or more to the point, how had she not known Camilla had suffered a loss? Fitz cast her mind back over the years since Michael had been born. She couldn’t remember Camilla ever being ill or bedridden or taken to hospital. When had this happened? And how didn’t she know?
Fitz felt awful. Camilla had gone through a terrible experience and Fitz had been totally oblivious. Could she have done something to help her? Oh, God, even worse, had she done something to cause more anxiety? An unexpected pang of guilt shot through Fitz – an emotion she wasn’t used to experiencing where her stepmother was concerned. She felt ghastly.
She wasn’t quite sure how to respond.
‘Everything all right?’ asked Marjorie from over the top of the letter she was reading.
‘Yes, fine,’ said Fitz quickly. She wasn’t ready to unpick the implications of Michael’s letter. She needed time to think about it.
She opened her father’s letter, hoping for some more uplifting news.
Edward Fitz-Herbert
Badcombe House
Little Badcombe
Cambridgeshire
20th May, 1941
