Far From Home. Anne Bennett

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      Anne Bennett

      Far from Home

      Dedication

      This book is dedicated to my lovely husband Denis in

       recognition for the way he battled lung cancer with such courage and determination and also for the way he kept upbeat throughout.

      Contents

      Title Page

      Dedication

      One

      Kate Munroe’s feet dragged as she reached the house. After…

      Two

      The next morning, Sally woke with a jerk; she lay…

      Three

      By the time the three girls reached High Street and…

      Four

      The following morning, as Susie settled herself in the tram…

      Five

      Kate knew that if this antagonism her mother had for…

      Six

      The next morning, Kate got up in a really good…

      Seven

      Kate and Sally went to town first thing the next…

      Eight

      Kate was interested in where David’s family lived. He had…

      Nine

      Kate told Susie all about what had happened at the…

      Ten

      Phillip Reynard and all young men of a similar age…

      Eleven

      By the time Kate and David came back from their…

      Twelve

      Kate told David that he owed it to his family…

      Thirteen

      David arrived around midday on Sunday 24 December. When Kate…

      Fourteen

      New Year’s Eve 1939, the first New Year of the…

      Fifteen

      After Nick and David returned, Kate made a decision to…

      Sixteen

      Just a few mornings later, Kate was at work when…

      Seventeen

      Before they were able to find anything out about ARP…

      Eighteen

      Over the next weeks, as the summer took hold of…

      Nineteen

      November was only a few days old when Kate got…

      Twenty

      Four days after David and Nick went back, German bombers,…

      Twenty-One

      The citizens of Birmingham were not told of the fracturing…

      Twenty-Two

      The German planes returned the next night but in far…

      Twenty-Three

      Kate awoke from her drugged sleep some hours later. Her…

      Twenty-Four

      ‘Mammy asks me in every letter when I am going…

      Twenty-Five

      Kate was unable to go to work until her stitches…

      Twenty-Six

      The short tram journey home was taken in virtual silence,…

      Twenty-Seven

      As they travelled to Ireland the following day, Helen wondered…

      Twenty-Eight

      Only two hours after the three women had left the…

      Acknowledgements

      About the Author

      Other Books by Anne Bennett

      Copyright

      About the Publisher

      ONE

      Kate Munroe’s feet dragged as she reached the house. After a week’s work in the radiator factory she was always tired by Friday and the cold and dank late October evening didn’t help her mood. She was glad of the big, thick, navy coat, the light blue hat pulled on over her dark brown curls, and the matching gloves encasing her hands, which she had saved for weeks to buy.

      She sighed with relief as she let herself into the entrance hall out of the biting wind, but it was very dark as she closed the door behind her because there was no light in the hall. ‘I haven’t bothered with the expense of having an electric light installed in here when the gas lamps were taken out,’ the landlady had told her when she moved in. ‘There’s a streetlight just outside, so I thought it would probably be light enough.’

      Kate thought that was all very well, but the door into the house was almost solid, so the only light came from a half-moon window right at the top. The house was converted into flats and so the postman would leave any letters there on the hall table for people to help themselves and sometimes in these dark, autumnal days, it was hard to read who the letters were for in such dim light. It was the same that night, and Kate was shifting through the pile of envelopes, scrutinizing them carefully, when suddenly there was a scraping noise from the space under the stairwell and she called out a little nervously, ‘Who’s there?’

      There was no answer and, gathering all her courage, Kate called out again, ‘Come on. Come out and show yourself.’

      Through the shadowy dimness, she saw a figure emerge and move towards her. She relaxed a little: it was obvious from the outline that the figure was female and slight, but it was not until she got up close that Kate gasped in recognition. Her dark brown eyes were looking straight into the anxious blue ones of her young sister.

      ‘Sally,’ she cried. ‘What are you doing here?’

      ‘I came to see you.’

      ‘Don’t be daft,’ Kate said shortly, but suddenly her blood ran like ice in her body and she asked almost fearfully, ‘Are you in some sort of trouble?’

      Sally blushed, even in the half-light Kate saw her cheeks darken, but she answered decidedly enough: ‘Not that kind of trouble. Not what you’re thinking.’

      In relief, Kate let out the breath she hadn’t even been aware she was holding. ‘Tell you the truth, Sally, I don’t know what to think,’ she said in exasperation. ‘Let’s get this straight. Is anything wrong at home?’

      Sally hung her head and twisted her feet on the floor, as Kate knew she did when she was troubled about something, and mumbled, ‘No, not really.’

      ‘Well, how “not really”?’ Kate said, feeling that she wanted to shake her younger sister. And then another thought struck her and she said, ‘I suppose Mammy and Daddy know you’re here?’

      Sally lifted her head and Kate got her answer by the stricken look in her sister’s face, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. ‘Good God, they don’t, do they?’ she cried. ‘They know nothing about this?’

      Sally shook her head and Kate sighed as she snapped, ‘Well, this can’t be gone into in the entrance hall. You’d better come up to the flat. Have you anything with you?’

      Sally nodded. ‘The old brown case with the broken lock. It was all there was – I had to wrap a belt around it to keep it shut.’