The Returning Tide by Liz Fenwick

Author:Liz Fenwick [Fenwick, Liz]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Orion Publishing Group
Published: 2017-02-25T22:00:00+00:00

Weymouth, Dorset

15 April 1944

‘Congratulations, Leading Wren Seaton.’ Bobby was waiting slightly apart from the others when I stepped off the liberty boat.

‘Thank you.’ I glanced at my sleeve. It was still a surprise to see the anchor. ‘Not used to it.’

He laughed. ‘From what I hear, you’re the top telegraphist.’

I frowned. I knew I was fast, and most importantly accurate, but how did he know?

‘Don’t look so concerned. I heard from Commander Rowse.’ He slipped my arm into his. ‘He thinks very highly of you.’

‘This secondment to your side says that.’ I stopped walking. ‘Did you have anything to do with it?’

He bent down and whispered, ‘No, I have nothing to do with the Navy. I’m just a messenger. But the commander has seen us together so it came up in polite conversation.’ He chuckled. ‘Or maybe not so polite. He told me to behave myself and – in short – that you were not that type of girl.’

I pulled back, trying to read the expression on Bobby’s face. I’m not sure what I was more shocked by, the commander’s comments or Bobby’s.

‘I told him that I would take very good care of you.’

‘Thank you.’ I moved closer to him again and breathed in the scent of soap and mint. His warmth travelled through the fabric of our uniforms.

‘You’ve gone quiet.’

I nodded. It felt strange to be heading to the dance hall in daylight. When I’d arrived in December the journey had been in darkness, but now I could see the boarded-up shopfronts and blacked-out houses. I didn’t have to navigate by sound but could see the way. In the twilight the effects of the war were visible. In front of a bombsite, daffodils bloomed in a pot as if in defiance, a splash of cheerful colour in the landscape. But war wasn’t normal. We’d been at war for so long, I wondered if I remembered what normal was. ‘Do you think this war will ever end?’

‘Yes, I do.’ He stopped walking, letting the others move further away from us. ‘I have to believe that we will win and all that everyone has given their lives for will return.’

‘I hope you’re right.’

‘Have faith.’ He pulled me into his arms and I rested my head against his shoulder.

‘I try, but sometimes it’s so difficult.’

‘That’s true of all of us.’

‘Come on, you two.’ Pat and her American had emerged out of a side street and gestured to us. I frowned at her, but we walked with them to the dance hall. I’d come to love and loathe the Saturday dances. If Bobby was here then it was magic to be in his arms, dancing to anything. If he was away, which happened more and more, then they were a trial. I didn’t want to dance with other men. Time was too precious.

‘Fools Rush In (Where Angels Fear to Tread)’ was playing as we entered. Bobby took me onto the dance floor and sang along to the words. Dot was right – I was in love.

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