flock of women of all ages, keen to see what she had written. There was laughter and suppressed howls of outrage. John, Harry and Mrs Gooding began to read the judge’s comments.
These are the worst scones I have ever tasted. 0/10
Texture fine, but too dry. 3/10
Sickly. 4/10
Lardy. 1/10
A fine balance of sweet and tart. 8/10
‘I’ll have that one, before someone else has it,’ said Mrs Gooding, pointing to the plum cake that had met with the judge’s approval.
‘Now, why don’t you both come home and help me eat the cake with a nice cup of tea?’
Mrs Gooding lived in a small white house close to the church hall and sat them down in her garden on a couple of deckchairs. She brought them tea and two generous slices of plum cake.
The cake was quite as delicious as the judge’s comments had suggested and reminded Harry of the cakes you could buy at the deli at the end of his street. He felt a stab of homesickness. John was beginning to doze off in the early afternoon sun, so Harry carried their cups and plates back inside and kept Mrs Gooding company while she peeled potatoes for her evening meal.
‘Grandma, there’s a strange man in the garden! Have you been rounding up American airmen again?’
Harry turned around, startled. The voice belonged to a petite girl now standing in the kitchen doorway.
‘Here’s another one!’ She gave him a winning smile, and put out a hand for him to shake. ‘Tilly Tait,’ she announced, and gave a little curtsy.
Harry guessed she was somewhere in her late teens. She had a shock of wavy blonde hair and a delicate pink complexion, and Harry thought she was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen.
For the second time that afternoon he was lost for words, and to his horror he began to blush.
‘Let me guess,’ she said. ‘You’re a new arrival at Kirkstead.’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ he managed to say, and gave her an awkward salute. ‘Sergeant Harry Friedman, United States Army Air Force.’ Then his mind went completely blank. He wanted to tell her how much he liked her green dress, but he thought that would be too corny.
Mrs Gooding came to the rescue. ‘Tilly is my granddaughter, as I’m sure you’ve guessed. She’s staying with me.’
‘Our house has been requisitioned for some of your top bods at the base,’ Tilly said. ‘Mum’s working in London, Dad’s off in the navy, so I’m here.’
John picked that moment to come in. Despite the fact he had only just woken up, John was a lot more self-assured, introducing himself and making small talk with an easy charm Harry envied.
‘The cake was delicious, Mrs Goulding, thank you,’ hesaid. Harry felt pleased he’d got her name wrong. He didn’t want Tilly to like him instead.
John spoke again. ‘Come on, Harry. We’ve got to get back to the base.’
They said their goodbyes and Tilly gave John what Harry hoped was a polite but indifferent nod. Turning to him, she lit up with a bright smile. ‘Goodbye, Harry. See you again.’
The sun still shone brightly in the sky, and they walked back down the country lanes in high spirits. ‘She’s a peach,’ said John, ‘and she likes you, you lucky son of a bitch!’
Harry could feel himself blushing again. He wasn’t going to tell John, but he didn’t know a great deal about girls.
The sound of aero-engines reached their ears. ‘They’re back,’ said Harry, grateful for the opportunity to change the subject.
In moments the sky filled with the sound of returning bombers. No one crashed as they landed and they could see no flares from approaching aircraft indicating seriously wounded men in need of urgent treatment.
Ten had taken off that morning and a quick tally of the planes as they weaved round to take their positions in landing formation revealed all of them had returned.
John Hill squeezed Harry’s elbow. ‘Look at that! All of them made it back. Maybe we’ll survive after all.’
CHAPTER 4
September 8th, 1943
As August turned to September,
These are the worst scones I have ever tasted. 0/10
Texture fine, but too dry. 3/10
Sickly. 4/10
Lardy. 1/10
A fine balance of sweet and tart. 8/10
‘I’ll have that one, before someone else has it,’ said Mrs Gooding, pointing to the plum cake that had met with the judge’s approval.
‘Now, why don’t you both come home and help me eat the cake with a nice cup of tea?’
Mrs Gooding lived in a small white house close to the church hall and sat them down in her garden on a couple of deckchairs. She brought them tea and two generous slices of plum cake.
The cake was quite as delicious as the judge’s comments had suggested and reminded Harry of the cakes you could buy at the deli at the end of his street. He felt a stab of homesickness. John was beginning to doze off in the early afternoon sun, so Harry carried their cups and plates back inside and kept Mrs Gooding company while she peeled potatoes for her evening meal.
‘Grandma, there’s a strange man in the garden! Have you been rounding up American airmen again?’
Harry turned around, startled. The voice belonged to a petite girl now standing in the kitchen doorway.
‘Here’s another one!’ She gave him a winning smile, and put out a hand for him to shake. ‘Tilly Tait,’ she announced, and gave a little curtsy.
Harry guessed she was somewhere in her late teens. She had a shock of wavy blonde hair and a delicate pink complexion, and Harry thought she was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen.
For the second time that afternoon he was lost for words, and to his horror he began to blush.
‘Let me guess,’ she said. ‘You’re a new arrival at Kirkstead.’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ he managed to say, and gave her an awkward salute. ‘Sergeant Harry Friedman, United States Army Air Force.’ Then his mind went completely blank. He wanted to tell her how much he liked her green dress, but he thought that would be too corny.
Mrs Gooding came to the rescue. ‘Tilly is my granddaughter, as I’m sure you’ve guessed. She’s staying with me.’
‘Our house has been requisitioned for some of your top bods at the base,’ Tilly said. ‘Mum’s working in London, Dad’s off in the navy, so I’m here.’
John picked that moment to come in. Despite the fact he had only just woken up, John was a lot more self-assured, introducing himself and making small talk with an easy charm Harry envied.
‘The cake was delicious, Mrs Goulding, thank you,’ hesaid. Harry felt pleased he’d got her name wrong. He didn’t want Tilly to like him instead.
John spoke again. ‘Come on, Harry. We’ve got to get back to the base.’
They said their goodbyes and Tilly gave John what Harry hoped was a polite but indifferent nod. Turning to him, she lit up with a bright smile. ‘Goodbye, Harry. See you again.’
The sun still shone brightly in the sky, and they walked back down the country lanes in high spirits. ‘She’s a peach,’ said John, ‘and she likes you, you lucky son of a bitch!’
Harry could feel himself blushing again. He wasn’t going to tell John, but he didn’t know a great deal about girls.
The sound of aero-engines reached their ears. ‘They’re back,’ said Harry, grateful for the opportunity to change the subject.
In moments the sky filled with the sound of returning bombers. No one crashed as they landed and they could see no flares from approaching aircraft indicating seriously wounded men in need of urgent treatment.
Ten had taken off that morning and a quick tally of the planes as they weaved round to take their positions in landing formation revealed all of them had returned.
John Hill squeezed Harry’s elbow. ‘Look at that! All of them made it back. Maybe we’ll survive after all.’
CHAPTER 4
September 8th, 1943
As August turned to September,
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