It was dark by the time Alfie left the King’s Head. He wasn’t sure how late it was but it didn’t matter. He’d make his way back home, pick up the car and then take it round to Empire Street and go to see Kitty. He didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of this before. All he had to do was present himself at her house and she’d be his. To his confused and seething brain, this tangled logic made complete sense.
The walk back to his house seemed far longer than the walk out, but that must be because of the dark. Everything felt as if it lasted longer at night-time, he assured himself. It was nothing to do with his by now somewhat unsteady steps. There was hardly anybody around. It occurred to him that he really had been in the pub for a long time.
Finally he reached his street. There, parked alongside the pavement, was his car. For a moment he wondered if he should go into the house and change into something smarter – Kitty might appreciate a gesture like that. Then he decided against it, as he was bound to bump into his mother and she’d only start interfering. Kitty knew him well enough to take him as he was. He didn’t need to impress her with fancy clothes or nonsense like that.
Luckily his car keys were still in his coat pocket. He had the sudden worrying thought that the battery might be dead after so long without starting it up, but the car didn’t let him down, sputtering to life after only a few attempts. Alfie sighed with pleasure as he put it into gear and released the handbrake. He’d missed being behind the wheel. He was glad he wasn’t one of those people who was affected by drink. He’d be perfectly safe; he’d only had a few pints. He hadn’t even had any whisky today – that proved how sensible he was. Anyway, there were no other vehicles about to get in the way.
After hitting the kerb only a few times, he drew up at the junction to Empire Street. His sense of self-preservation told him not to turn on to the street itself. Not many people owned cars here; his would be easily recognised. Better to park it on the main road and walk the last few yards on foot. It would be easier to get away without having to turn or reverse as well.
He eased himself out of the driver’s seat and left the car unlocked. What he wanted to do wouldn’t take long. He’d be back here with Kitty in no time. He walked unsteadily to her front door and paused. Should he knock? There was no sign of life inside. It was later than he’d planned, and she’d have most likely gone to bed. He tried the handle but the door didn’t budge.
He thought of the times he’d visited Danny here, back in the days before he’d let him down so badly. They always sat in the kitchen, he remembered, and his family and friends often went in and out of the back door. He could make his way around and try that. He didn’t want to cause unnecessary noise, as that might draw Pop out on to the street, the last person he wanted to see.
He stumbled his way around to the alley at the back and found the gate to the Callaghans’ yard. It was bolted, but he soon worked out how to open it. He realised he was making a bit of a noise as he shoved the gate hard, but didn’t think it would be enough to wake anyone. There wasn’t much light but he could make out the shape of a bicycle against the inner wall – that would be Tommy’s. He’d got the correct place all right.
He crept cautiously across the yard and reached the back door. It too was locked. Still, there was nobody to see what he was doing. His usual caution left well behind, he gave the door an almighty shove and the old lock gave way. He pushed it wide open and paused, alert for any noises inside the house, but there were none. He tried to remember what Danny had said over the years about who slept where. He was pretty sure Tommy had the smallest room, facing the back. So that narrowed down where Kitty would be. He knew the layout of the place and navigated his way around the kitchen furniture and into the hall. Silent as a thief, he slowly headed upstairs.
He could just about make out that the door to the back bedroom was closed. He turned in the narrow corridor and traced his way along the wall till he came to the door that he was sure belonged to Kitty’s room. He opened it carefully, and could immediately pick up the sound of somebody’s deep, regular breathing inside. So he was right; she had gone to bed and was asleep.
He waited until his eyes were fully accustomed to the dim light. All he could really see were vague outlines, but that was enough to work out where the bed was. He could hardly believe it – he was finally in Kitty’s bedroom and that shape under the blankets was her. Any moment now she would be his. Swiftly he moved across the room and shook her shoulder. ‘Kitty, wake up, come with me,’ he muttered, not quite able to keep his voice as soft and persuasive as he’d planned. He shook her more strongly. ‘Wake up, I said. You’re coming with me.’ Now he was growing frustrated at her lack of obedience. ‘Come on, stop fooling around, get your things, I’m here to take you away.’
The shape groaned and shifted under his grip. Alfie lost his patience and threw back the bedcovers, grabbing wildly underneath them. The shape screamed and half sat up.
‘Shut up, Kitty. Come with me and look sharp about it. I can’t wait all bloody night.’
He grabbed again, connecting with what might have been a nightdress, gripping the flesh beneath it, pulling her further out of the bed. She screamed again, resisting him, twisting away, and he lashed out, furious now that she wasn’t agreeing with him fast enough. Didn’t she realise this was her way to a better life; that he could give her all the things she wanted, if only she’d do as he told her? He hit out again and felt something bony. Maybe her nose. His hand came away wet – he’d drawn blood. He put out his hand to check and felt her hair, long and straight.
Even in his befuddled state, he realised something wasn’t right. Kitty had curly hair, in a short bob. It was one of the reasons he liked her so much, her pretty dark hair. Had she changed it somehow? Had he made a mistake? Had he actually hurt her, when he hadn’t meant to do that at all? What sort of pickle had he got himself into now? Or was this an imposter? That might be even worse. Nothing was going to plan and it didn’t make any sense. Blind rage took over.
‘What have you done with Kitty, you bloody bitch?’ he shouted, lashing out.
Whoever it was made a gulping noise as if it was in pain and couldn’t scream any more. Angrily he shoved his victim back against the bed and aimed another punch at her to shut her up. Then he plunged back towards the corridor, ignoring the low moaning from behind him. A shaft of moonlight lit up the narrow hall as the door to the back bedroom swung open.
A small figure came out. ‘Aunty Sarah?’ It was a little boy. ‘Aunty Sarah, I woke up. There were strange noises and I didn’t like it. Can I have a drink?’
Alfie was nonplussed for a moment. Kitty didn’t have a kid. What was this boy doing here? Then he decided it didn’t matter. In his confused state, all he wanted was to punish her for not being here, for thwarting his intentions, which had all been for her own good. But she’d rejected him, by not being here. Whoever this kid was, he must be important to her and therefore she’d want him back. And he had to make the kid shut up, or else he might start kicking up a fuss and waking the neighbours. Whatever else happened, he didn’t want to alert Pop.
‘I’m not your bloody Aunty Sarah,’ he snarled. ‘But you’re coming with me. I’ll give you a drink all right.’ He swept forwards, grabbed the child, slamming his palm over his mouth, and raced down the stairs, out of the back door and through the yard, not thinking any further than getting the boy bundled into the car and far away from here. He’d work out the rest as he went. The child managed to squirm away from his hand and screamed piercingly into his ear, but he shut it out, concentrating on running, putting as much distance between himself and the house as he could before whoever it was who’d pretended to be Kitty woke up the entire street.
‘Kitty.’
It was barely there but she was certain it was her name. It had to be Frank. The rubble distorted the voice but it had to be him.
‘Frank, is that you?’ she shouted.
‘Kitty!’ It was him. She couldn’t tell how close he was. ‘Kitty, are you hurt?’
She almost sobbed again in relief and the sheer delight that he was alive. ‘I’m stuck under rubble,’ she called, ‘and one arm is painful, but otherwise not too bad.’ She forced herself to sound cheerful. She didn’t want him to worry about her. ‘What about you?’
‘Not too bad either.’ He coughed. ‘I’m caught under some stones but I can move one arm. Hold on.’ There was a scrabbling noise and then the sound of something moving over to her left. Suddenly she could hear him much more clearly. ‘Is that better? I’ve managed to shift a brick or something like that.’
‘Frank, that’s much better. I can hear you properly now.’ She breathed out slowly. ‘Are you really not hurt? Can you see anything?’
‘Only a patch of light coming from behind somewhere. I can’t twist around to see any more, though. Not because I’m injured, more because I’m pinned down and don’t want to move any more stones in case I set off a rock fall.’
‘I’m the same. I hope it’s daylight but I don’t know. How long have we been in here, do you think?’
‘I’ve no idea,’ Frank said. ‘I must have passed out for a bit. I only came to when I heard you calling.’
‘Me too,’ said Kitty. ‘It was like I woke up in a dark fog. I’m getting used to it now though. It’s not so bad, is it? It could be worse.’
‘That’s the spirit,’ Frank said at once. ‘And we’re bound to be rescued soon, you know.’
‘I thought that too,’ said Kitty immediately, trying to believe it. ‘They’ll be out there now, won’t they, working out how best to clear the rubble and everything.’
‘We’ll be out of here in a jiffy.’ He sounded so sure of it. Kitty prayed he was right. She didn’t know how long the air would last in here or if there were more falls to come.
‘Frank …’ she said hesitantly. ‘Frank, I meant to say.’ She gulped. Somehow it was easier to talk here, in the dark, when he couldn’t see her face. She was ashamed of how she’d felt over the past few days and couldn’t bear for him to blame her. She knew that given the circumstances it should be the least thing on her mind, but her feelings seemed magnified down here somehow and it helped to think about something else other than the tons of rubble above and around them. ‘I’m sorry. I was offhand with you yesterday and I was being silly. I was just upset that you’d wanted someone else to come on the trip with you; that you didn’t think I was good enough.’
There was a moment’s pause before Frank asked, ‘What do you mean?’
Kitty swallowed hard. ‘That, you know, you wanted my superior officer to represent the Derby House Wrens at the meeting, not me.’
Frank paused again. ‘I don’t know what you mean. I asked for you because you’re the best when it comes to telephone communications and training. I know your boss has been doing it for longer, but she doesn’t understand the day-to-day difficulties or how fast things have changed. I definitely asked for you.’
‘Oh.’ Kitty was caught off guard. ‘But I thought—’
‘How on earth did you come by such an idea?’
‘Well, after that meeting with Commander Stephens, Moira Butcher told me I was the second choice. She seemed to know what she was talking about, and so I believed her.’
‘That’s not true.’ Frank sighed. ‘It’s probably because she’s friends with Sylvia. She’s being protective – not that she has any need to be. After all, it was Sylvia who called a halt to things, not the other way around.’
‘What?’ Now it was Kitty’s turn to sound astonished. ‘I didn’t realise. I thought you were still courting her. When did that happen?’
‘Between Christmas and New Year.’ Frank cleared his throat, his voice seeming to fade a little. ‘I didn’t exactly make a song and dance about it. Not the sort of thing to spread around, really.’
‘Frank, I’m sorry.’ Kitty knew the two of them had been seeing each other quite regularly. ‘You’ve been putting a brave face on it all that time. We didn’t know.’
‘No need to be sorry.’ Frank paused again, then his voice changed, became stronger again. ‘She probably did me a favour, to be honest. She said … she said there was always a barrier between us. As if there was somebody else there.’
Kitty wasn’t sure how to take that. ‘But you wouldn’t have two-timed her.’
‘Of course not. That wasn’t what she meant. She had a point, though.’
‘Did she?’
‘Yes, she did … Kitty, you must know what I’m talking about.’
Kitty knew what she wanted him to be talking about, but she wasn’t at all sure that was what he meant. She’d jumped to too many wrong conclusions on this trip already. She paused for a moment, not daring to indulge any of her hopes, and then said, ‘No, I … I’m not sure.’
There was no reply. Had she offended him somehow?
‘Frank, are you still there? Are you all right?’ There was a lengthening silence. She couldn’t tell how long it went on for.
‘Frank? Speak to me, Frank.’ She tried to keep the growing anxiety from her voice.
After what seemed to be an eternity, he finally spoke. ‘Kitty … sorry. Might have blacked out again for a moment there.’
‘Are you all right? I was worried,’ Kitty said.
‘Don’t be worried, I’m here Kitty and not going anywhere, tell you what. Can you give us a song? That’ll keep me awake. Something to rouse our spirits.’ He didn’t sound right, but it was better than the dreadful silence.
‘All right,’ said Kitty. ‘If you’re sure it will help?’
‘It will.’
Hesitantly at first, but then with more spirit, Kitty began ‘Pack Up Your Troubles’, not too loud, but with as much hope and energy as she could muster. Frank joined in quietly – she could just about hear him. She had to keep him awake if she could, to know he was safe. She absolutely could not lose him.
‘What next?’ she asked when she reached the end of the song.
‘What was it we danced to at Christmas?’
She shut out the thought that she might never see Pop and all the others again. ‘“The Nearness of You”, wasn’t it?’
‘Sing that one for me, Kitty.’
Kitty bit her lip at the memory and then, knowing it was to keep him alert, and possibly anyone else who was trapped down here with them, she sang the song, the one that meant something to both of them, wishing that she could be close to Frank now, holding his hand. Gloria would have been proud of the performance, she thought as she came to the final chorus. ‘How was that, Frank?’
But he didn’t answer.
Sarah slowly dragged herself downstairs to the kitchen sink and turned on the tap. She must have passed out briefly and she was disorientated. Her head was pounding and her nose felt swollen. Filled with dread, she carefully lit the gas lamp and glanced in the old mirror. She gasped in horror at the sight of her face covered in blood. She knew she had to clean herself up before Tommy or Georgie saw her. Drawing on all her training, she carefully dabbed at the mess, careful not to press too hard, swearing to replace the tea towel with a clean one when she had the chance. Kitty wouldn’t mind, she knew. It was silly to worry about a little thing like that, but somehow it helped deal with the pain.
The full horror of what had happened to her was only now beginning to dawn. A man had come into her bedroom, had groped her under the blankets then beaten her. At first the memory was fuzzy but slowly her mind cleared. He had thought she was Kitty. He had smelled heavily of sour beer. She hadn’t seen more than an outline of him but the voice had sounded familiar.
She was thankful in one way that beating her was all he had done. It could have been so much worse. From her work at the hospital and the Red Cross post, she’d come across horrendous stories: men forcing themselves on women under cover of the blackout, taking advantage of the most vulnerable. She shivered. All the same, her head was ringing with the agony from the punches and she was sure her body would be bruised in the morning. She hadn’t exactly got off lightly.
When she’d done all she could, she rinsed out the ruined tea towel and wrung it tightly, before hiding it under the sink – she didn’t want Georgie to see it in the morning. She hoped he and Tommy had slept through everything, and were safely in their beds. She thought she’d better find her first-aid kit, which she’d brought with her from habit. It would be in her bag, back up in the bedroom. She would check on the boys while she was up there. She stumbled a little as she mounted the stairs, at once weary and yet with no inclination to sleep, shaky with energy from the shock. She had no idea for how long she’d passed out, or been in the kitchen, or what the time was now.
Tommy came out of his room as she reached the top. She angled her torch so he wouldn’t see her face.
‘Sorry, did I wake you? I just needed something from the kitchen.’ She tried to make her voice as normal as she could.
Tommy shook his head. ‘It doesn’t matter,’ he said. ‘I had a bad nightmare. There was crashing and banging and screaming, I didn’t know what was going on. I just woke up. But where’s Georgie?’
Kitty awoke from a doze, confused and thirsty. She could feel pins and needles in her legs and the earthy smell was growing stronger. The air seemed more fetid. She knew she had to stay calm, but the temptation to give in to panic was strong. The tiny glimmer of light had vanished now.
‘Frank?’ she called hesitantly, afraid he still wouldn’t answer. For a moment her heart nearly stopped as there was only silence, and then she heard him give a quiet cough. ‘Sorry, Kitty, must have drifted off there for a moment.’
‘Me too.’ That was an understatement, and she knew he must have been drifting in and out of consciousness for much of their time underground.
‘It won’t be long now.’ He sounded weaker this time, his voice hoarse. ‘They’re bound to be with us soon.’
‘Yes, you’re right,’ she said, hanging on to his words for desperately needed comfort. She had to believe it was true. Anything else was unthinkable. She had to be brave. Many others had suffered worse than this. And yet there was that horrible suspicion at the back of her mind that the air couldn’t last much longer.
‘How’s your arm?’ Frank asked.
‘Still letting me know it’s there,’ she said, forcing herself to make light of the pain.
‘Well, that’s a good thing, shows the nerves are working.’
‘You sound like Rita or Sarah,’ she said, smiling at the thought of his sisters, imagining them in their nurses’ uniforms, and then wincing as a sharper bolt of pain shot along the length of her arm. She gritted her teeth. Better that it hurt than went completely numb.
‘Bet they’d know what to do if they had you in their hospital,’ he went on.
‘Yes, and they’ll have seen far worse than this. We’re lucky, really,’ she replied, trying to convince herself. Her ears caught a distant sound. ‘What’s that noise? Can you hear it, Frank?’
‘Hang on.’ Frank paused for a few seconds. ‘Yes, it’s … well, I could be wrong, but I reckon it might be stones moving around.’
‘Moving around? You mean, more falling on us?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Frank. ‘It’s possible, but of course it could be quite a way away from us. We shouldn’t worry. We’re going to be fine, Kitty.’
‘Yes, of course.’ Again the noise came; it really did seem like more stones falling. She tried to block out the image of being buried in here for ever by the weight of bricks and blocks, slowly running out of air. ‘Frank, are you still there? It’s getting closer, isn’t it?’
‘We don’t know that. Sound does funny things underground. We mustn’t jump to conclusions or panic.’
‘No. No, of course not.’ She closed her eyes again, willing herself to stay in control. Panic wouldn’t help. She had to breathe slowly. She tried to hear Rita’s sensible voice in her head, explaining how a steady breath helped you stay calm. It was hard to concentrate on that while the noise of stone on stone grew louder and closer. ‘Frank, I’m sorry but I’m scared, I’m so scared.’
‘I know. It is frightening. It’s natural to be scared, but we’re going to get out of this.’
‘Frank … I—’ She couldn’t keep the depth of emotion from her voice. The effort of pretending was too much.
But Frank cut in on her garbled thoughts. ‘Kitty, I’m sorry to interrupt, but I must tell you something. This isn’t exactly how I’d planned to say this, but, well, lying here in the dark makes you realise what’s important, doesn’t it?’ He must have caught her tone and understood it for what it was. ‘And the fact is, you are. You’re the most important person in the world to me, Kitty. I know I’ve had the accident with my leg and I’ll never be the man I used to be, but I have to say this anyway. I can’t go on kidding myself I think of you just as a friend. Sylvia could tell that wasn’t so, even if I wouldn’t admit it. You’re the woman I love, Kitty. You always have been.’
Kitty gasped, in shock and yet in delight that his words echoed exactly what she’d been thinking. The terrifying darkness seemed to recede. ‘Frank, I don’t … I can’t believe it. Really? I thought you looked down on me, like a kid sister or something. I never dared tell you how I felt. I don’t care about your leg. It makes no difference to me. How could you even think it?’
‘Because I was stupid and had my pride,’ he said ruefully. ‘I thought I couldn’t condemn you to spend your life with a disabled man, especially when you’d known me before, in the days when I could dance and box and everything that normal men do. I never looked down on you, ever. Yes, you were like a sister to start with, but then things changed. I always wanted to take care of you, but it’s something different now, you have to believe me.’
‘Frank, you’re the only one for me, I don’t care about anything else,’ Kitty breathed. ‘If we get out of here—’
‘No, when we get out of here,’ said Frank staunchly. ‘They’ll come for us soon. They’re bound to. Then we’ll get your arm sorted, and after that we can make up for lost time. We can be together properly – as long as that’s what you’d like, Kitty.’
‘Of course, it’s what I want more than anything.’ She gave a small laugh. ‘Really? Are you sure? Oh, Frank. We can’t lose each other now. Do you think we would have ever said this if we hadn’t been trapped like this? Would we have gone on misunderstanding one another and being unhappy? Perhaps we should be grateful that fate has done this.’
‘Perhaps.’
‘We’re going to be all right, Frank. Fate couldn’t be so cruel as to harm us any more now we finally know we’re going to be together.’
‘Exactly,’ he said confidently, not allowing any shadow of doubt to colour his voice. ‘They’ll be here in no time. All we have to do is wait. Pretend I can hold your hand. Imagine I’m doing that, and giving it a good squeeze. That’s what I’ll do when we get out of here. I’ll give you a big hug; I’m never going to stop hugging you, protecting you.’
‘I’ll hold you to that. I won’t care about my arm, as long as we get out of here.’
‘We will, Kitty. We’re going to be safe any moment now.’ But she could hear his voice was fading once more. He must be as thirsty and hungry as she was. They hadn’t eaten since the biscuits at the meeting. At least they’d had those. Her mind began to drift again and she could feel her eyelids drooping, the welcome muzziness of sleep – or was it just that she had no strength left? The lack of air was playing with her senses. Time was stretching away from her. Then Frank’s voice came again.
‘Kitty. Can you see it?’
She came out of her stupor, realising his voice was sharp now, stronger once more.
‘See what? I can’t … oh, perhaps, though. There’s something on my left-hand side, a patch of … I don’t know, it’s not quite as dark.’
‘I’m sure it’s a beam of light. It is, Kitty. I’m going to call out. Over here!’ he shouted, his voice croaky but full of force.
‘Hello! Over here!’ Kitty echoed as loudly as she could, tasting dust and dirt as she did so. Now she could make out the light more clearly. It moved around. It must be the beam of a torch.
‘Hello there, miss,’ came a man’s voice. ‘Shout out again so I can tell where you are.’
Kitty could have cried with relief but instead she called to him, ‘We’re over here. There’s two of us – or at least that’s all we know of. There could be more.’
‘Steady on, then. We’ll be with you in a jiffy.’ The man sounded closer, and then there were muffled noises, perhaps as he turned and spoke to the other rescuers. ‘That’s it, that’s it – almost there.’ More stones fell nearby and then, with a grunt of effort, the man and his team rolled back a huge pillar. As the torchlight broke through their prison, Kitty could pick out the markings of the stone, and then the ARP uniforms of the men.
‘Hello, miss,’ said the first man. ‘You’re safe now. We’ll get you out in no time at all.’