The Mersey Daughter (Empire Street #3)(84)

Yet she couldn’t concentrate on what her friends were saying. Marjorie was describing an incident in one of her language classes, but it felt as if it had nothing to do with her. She’d waited so long to see Elliott again, any extra delay was twice as agonising. Every precious minute counted, and she resented those that were being stolen from them.

Marjorie broke off to suggest they all got another cup of tea, which they agreed was a good idea, and it wasn’t until they’d nearly finished their drinks that a fellow Wren came to the common room door and called, ‘Callaghan?’

Kitty looked up, and something in the woman’s expression caused her to spill the last of her tea, narrowly missing the skirt of the beautiful frock.

‘I say, steady on,’ Laura said, but her tone was joking.

Kitty frowned. Well, maybe this was one of the dragons who wasn’t charmed by Elliott. Even he wasn’t infallible, she supposed. She set down her cup and walked as calmly as she could across to the messenger. The other two followed. ‘Might as well come and say hello,’ Laura remarked, ‘seeing as you two lovebirds will want to have the rest of your weekend on your own.’

The messenger nodded to Kitty. ‘There’s a gentleman come to see you, says he’s a doctor.’

Kitty sighed with relief. How silly she had been to be worried. Everything was going to be all right now he was here. What had she been so anxious about – could it be, she wondered, that he might even propose this weekend? How would she feel if he did? Of course if she was to be sensible it was too soon, and they were in the middle of a war. If she added up the hours they had spent together it wasn’t actually very long, not compared to how a courtship would have been in peacetime. Still, she was lucky to have someone like Elliott who felt so strongly about her …

‘Look sharp, Callaghan,’ said the messenger, her face still unremittingly grim. ‘He’s waiting at the front door.’

Kitty nodded. Of course men weren’t allowed in the Wrens’ billet. Heaven knew plenty had tried, but it was a strictly adhered-to rule. She hurried along to the entrance lobby, her feet light at the prospect of being reunited with Elliott at last.

Except it wasn’t Elliott. The man had deep-red hair, not warm-brown. It was Elliott’s friend and former colleague, Bill Smedley. Kitty halted, trying to understand what it could mean. He must have driven to the station in his car to give Elliott a lift, and Elliott would be waiting outside, that was it.

The look on his face told her that wasn’t right, but she held on to the hope even while her heart was full of misgiving.

‘Kitty.’ Dr Smedley stepped towards her. ‘Kitty, I’m so sorry, I’m so desperately sorry.’

Kitty couldn’t form the words to ask what he was talking about. She just stared at him, registering that any of her female friends would have loved to have his hair; that his tie was crooked, that he had lines on his face she didn’t remember seeing before.

‘Sorry about what? Whatever is it?’ Laura, direct as ever, came forward and took her arm. She’d have known Bill from the occasional night out earlier in the summer when he’d met their group for drinks, Kitty recalled. As if it mattered.

‘Kitty …’ He met her gaze and his eyes were full of deep pity. ‘I … I have to tell you that Elliott won’t be coming this weekend. He’s …’ The doctor took a quick breath. ‘Kitty, he’s dead.’

Kitty just stared.

‘What do you mean, he’s dead? He can’t be.’ Laura again asked the question that Kitty couldn’t.

Dr Smedley shut his eyes for a brief moment, collected himself and forced the words out. ‘There was a raid on Bootle on Monday. It was the heaviest since the blitz. Quite a few people were injured; some were killed. I’m so sorry, Kitty. Elliott was one of them.’

‘Monday?’ gasped Laura, almost as if getting the details straight would change the outcome. ‘But that was days ago.’

Dr Smedley didn’t back down in the face of her fierce questioning. ‘Yes, Monday evening. It took a while for them to identify everyone, and then they had to inform the next of kin – Elliott’s parents, of course.’ He glanced at Kitty in apology. ‘They wanted to get hold of you but didn’t know how. They telephoned me to break the news – I’ve known them for years. They asked me if I knew where you were stationed and to come and tell you in person.’

‘How … how …’ Still Kitty couldn’t speak properly. Her mouth wouldn’t let the words come out. It was going at a different speed to her brain. This couldn’t be happening. Elliott was still on a train, it had been held up, he was going to come to see her and introduce her to his parents. He couldn’t be dead – he was full of life, full of energy, full of love. He wasn’t old enough to die. He had so many plans.

‘He was walking home after coming off shift, that’s what they said,’ Bill went on. ‘There were some direct hits on Bootle – he wouldn’t have suffered,’ he assured her. ‘He was right in the middle of it all – he wouldn’t have known. Kitty, if there’s anything I can do …’

Kitty felt her knees go weak and sensed Laura on one side, Marjorie now on the other, holding her up. But the entrance lobby was beginning to swim as her vision grew blurry. She could hear Bill’s voice but it was getting further and further away. She gasped as the truth of it hit her, the finality, and she could stand up no longer. Then she was gripped by a pain in her heart, a sharp, stabbing pain as she took in the news that he was gone for ever. Now she would never know what could be, what would have happened in the future they’d only just begun to talk about, full of possibilities. A future that he had worked so hard to secure, that he would have grasped with both hands. How could someone so loving and kind and full of compassion for the world around him be snatched away like this? And what about her own feelings – was this true love, this grown-up sensation of being so comfortable with someone and knowing you could trust them with absolutely anything? Right now, she couldn’t answer that, but she knew there was a big empty, gaping hole inside her; and one that she wasn’t sure would ever heal. As the awful reality of the war hit home, Kitty knew that things would never be the same again.