We'll Meet Again. Patricia Burns
hesitated. He knew what he wanted to do. Then he took a breath and swooped forward, planting a kiss on her cheek.
‘See you tomorrow!’ he said, and jumped on his bike.
All the way back to the youth hostel, he felt as if he could conquer the world.
All the next morning, Annie was bursting with energy, despite the fact that she had slept very little the night before. Whatever her father asked her to do, she breezed through it with ease. His bad temper just slid off her. The only problem was appearing as if everything was just the same as normal when the whole world was glowing with possibilities. She caught herself singing as she washed her hands for dinner, despite the fact that her father was scowling and growling behind her. Her mother shot her a puzzled look.
‘You’re cheerful,’ she whispered, when Walter was in the scullery.
‘Oh, well … it’s a nice sunny day,’ Annie said.
She sucked in her smiles and helped her mother bring the food to the table. During the meal she kept her eyes on her plate and concentrated on eating. But it was hard, when what she wanted to do was to dance round the room.
Through the long afternoon, she wondered what Tom was doing. Was he all right? Was he lonely? It wasn’t as if Wittlesham was much of a resort any more. At least it was nice weather, and he could be outside.
The evening chores had never seemed so lengthy. Annie seethed with impatience as her father checked that she had done everything right. As usual, he took issue with her over details and she had to do things again, but at last she was free.
‘I think I’ll just go for a walk down to the water,’ she said, as offhand as she could manage.
‘Waste of energy,’ Walter growled. ‘What about your ma? She want anything doing?’
‘No, no. I asked her and she said not.’
‘You sure?’
‘Yes. Completely sure.’
‘Go and check.’
Annie swallowed down her howl of frustration. If she let him see how much it meant to her, he would invent something for her to do, or even simply forbid her to go.
‘All right,’ she agreed, and went to see her mother.
At last she was released. At lightning speed, she washed, changed, ran a comb through her hair and smoothed on some of the new lipstick. And then she was off, running across the fields towards Silver Sands as if her life depended upon it.
And there was Tom, waiting for her by the gate.
‘Seems funny to see the old place all shut up,’ he said after they had gone over their news of the day.
They were sitting on the sea wall, but not in their old place, the sea side. This time they were on the landward side, overlooking Silver Sands.
Annie lay back on the long dry grass. It was lovely to rest after the day’s work, to feel the last of the sun on her face, to have a soul mate to talk to.
‘It’s been shut ever since your family left. I was so mad when my dad didn’t buy it from Mr Sutton. I don’t even know who owns it now but, whoever it is, they haven’t done anything to it. I suppose they’re just waiting for the war to end before they can let it again.’
‘Might have a bit of a wait, then,’ Tom said.
‘Yes,’ Annie sighed. ‘Nearly two years now.’
‘At least we weren’t invaded. Remember last year, when the Germans were just over the North Sea?’
‘And the Battle of Britain was going on in the sky?’
‘We won that.’
‘We did. Good old RAF.’
‘I’m going to join the RAF.’
‘You said that last year.’
‘I know. I meant it then, but it seemed a long way away. Now it’s just over four months.’
‘What?’
Fear jolted through Annie. She sat up and stared at Tom. He was still looking at the chalet, a long piece of grass between his teeth.
‘Four months,’ he repeated. ‘Till I’m eighteen.’
Something seemed to be squeezing her chest, making it difficult to breathe.
‘But … but … you’re still at school,’ she said.
‘So?’ Tom threw the grass stalk away and selected another. ‘All the more reason to join up. Do something real. What’s the point of studying if the country might be conquered? I want to get out there and do my bit.’
Annie cast about desperately in her mind for an argument.
‘Well, of course you do,’ she said, ‘but—you don’t have to go yet. I know there’s talk of the call-up coming down to eighteen, but it hasn’t yet. Why not wait? You’re so lucky to be able to stay at school.’
‘For heaven’s sake! You sound just like my dad. I don’t want to stay at school. What I’m doing there is irrelevant. There are people out there defending our country and what am I doing? Studying stuff that has nothing to do with real life. Look at you—you’re doing your bit, you’re doing a man’s work on the farm, putting up milk production and helping feed the country. It just makes me feel useless.’
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