Winter on the Mersey(11)
As they passed through the streets and headed towards the park, the crowds thinned out, but there was still a sense of bustle and activity. Kitty grinned, relishing being back in a big city. It was where she felt at home, jostling around people, being in the thick of it. Growing up on Merseyside had made her feel that this was normal, and it was where she was comfortable, despite knowing rationally that big cities were more dangerous, being targets for the enemy’s attacks. Yet she couldn’t shake off the sense that this was the sort of place where she belonged, not a quiet country town where everything went silent after dusk.
Green Park loomed ahead, with its avenues of old trees, and as they began to wander down one of its wide paths, Laura turned to face her. ‘All right, Kitty. I know you – you would usually rush straight to Lyons or somewhere like it. What’s up? What do you have to say that’s so secret you can’t tell me where anyone can overhear?’
Kitty laughed ruefully. She should have known there would be no fooling Laura, who might act the dizzy socialite when it suited her, but who underneath was as sharp as a tack. There was no point in beating about the bush.
‘Have you heard from Marjorie recently?’
‘Marjorie?’ Laura stopped to think. ‘I had a letter a few weeks ago; it had taken ages to get to me, and loads of it had been censored anyway. You wouldn’t think signals in Sussex could be that exciting. I was impressed.’
Kitty shrugged. ‘Well, let’s just say if she wrote down what she hinted at to me the other day, then you wouldn’t have had much of a letter at all. It would all have been blacked out.’
‘Now you have got me intrigued,’ Laura said. ‘Tell all, Callaghan. Out with it.’
Hoping that she wasn’t exaggerating, or hadn’t got the wrong end of the stick, Kitty explained what had happened. ‘So you see, she asked me to have a word with you rather than write, as she didn’t think she’d be able to get leave to see you in person,’ she finished, gripping her handkerchief in her jacket pocket in anxiety for her friend. ‘This sounds serious, doesn’t it? Can you imagine it, Marjorie going into enemy territory, probably undercover?’
Laura came to a halt. ‘Well, I don’t know what I expected you to say, but it wasn’t that,’ she admitted. ‘I thought you were going to tell me that she’d finally fallen properly for one of her blond pilots, or she’d been chosen to learn Danish or one of those other language things she gets so worked up about. Golly, Kitty. That’s ever so slightly terrifying, isn’t it? I mean, when we first knew her, she was scared of Leicester Square on a Saturday night.’
‘She’s changed since then,’ Kitty reminded her. ‘She was so certain she was doing the right thing as well. Honestly, Laura, she showed no doubt at all. She knows what she’s getting into and she’s ready for it. I’m afraid for her and yet I’m proud too. That she should be chosen – well, she must be really good at what she does.’
‘She is, I’m sure,’ said Laura with certainty. She held on to Kitty’s arm more forcefully. ‘Look, we mustn’t worry about her. That will do no good and we can’t change what she’s decided to do or what will happen. She will be needed.’ She paused, casting her glance from left to right and back again. ‘No one around, is there? Well, I bet she is going to northern France.’
‘What?’ Kitty leaned closer. ‘What do you mean? What do you know, Laura?’
Laura closed her eyes briefly and then made up her mind to share what she’d heard. ‘All totally hush-hush, of course,’ she said, as if it was even necessary to stress such a thing, ‘but it’s sort of common knowledge in certain circles that something big is going to happen. I don’t know when, and of course not exactly what, but something’s brewing.’
Kitty raised her eyebrows. ‘Has Peter said something?’
Captain Peter Cavendish was Laura’s boyfriend, and very well connected, with an uncle who was an admiral and who had attended meetings of naval top brass ever since they’d known him. At first Laura had called him Captain Killjoy, as their working relationship had begun with hostility on her part and near-silence from his; he’d also shown an uncanny knack of knowing when Laura had planned a night out, always calling her to drive him just when she was getting ready. That had lasted until they’d both been involved in rescuing a baby from a burning building after a bomb had gone off in a north London street. Peter had nearly died, and after that it had become obvious that the two of them were meant for each other.
‘Not as such,’ Laura admitted. ‘You know he’s careful never to breathe a word of what goes on at those interminable conferences of his. But I can tell something’s changed. I mean, it makes sense. Look at all the Allied success of the past year – North Africa, Italy. You’d have to say it would be no surprise if they were thinking of going into France now. Wouldn’t you, if you were in charge?’
Kitty took a step back. ‘I … I don’t know. Seeing as I’m never going to be in charge of something like that, I don’t think about it. I just get on with what I’m asked to do.’
‘Oh, so do I,’ Laura said hastily. ‘I’m just guessing. But it would be the obvious thing to do.’
Kitty glanced at her friend. Of course she would hear conversations like this all the time, even if they weren’t full of detail. But Laura was used to being around discussions at that sort of level. Kitty wasn’t, and she didn’t feel qualified to offer an opinion. Also, even after having been friends for so long, Laura sometimes still had that effect on her: making her feel inadequate, that she was on the outside looking in, while the likes of Laura forged ahead, effortlessly taking charge, knowing they were born to make the key decisions. Then she gave herself a mental shake. Laura didn’t do it deliberately. It was just Kitty’s own habit to feel under-confident in the face of such assurance. But Kitty herself had changed since the early days of training – she had to remember that.