She paused and pointed to the door. ‘It’s through there. It has an underground passage that leads into the grounds so in the unlikely event that the house takes a direct hit we’d still be able to get out.’

  18

  Angus was fed up to the back teeth with builders, subordinates and generally being in charge of Manston. He was a young, active member of the RAF and shouldn’t be tied to a desk job. A squadron of Hurries screamed overhead as they did their daily patrol of Canterbury and in that moment he decided to put in for a transfer.

  There must be dozens of older men who could no longer fly who would be better equipped to take over. Tony hadn’t been up to the task but he was certain there were others who would be. Every pilot was going to be needed soon. The poor buggers who’d volunteered last September were going to be thrown into combat with sod all hours in their logbooks. A flyer of his experience would be essential to lead these new blokes.

  His promotion to squadron leader was dependent on him being CO at Manston but he would happily return to being a flight lieutenant if it meant he was stationed somewhere he could lead every sortie and do what he was trained for.

  Manston was part of Fighter Command Group 11 and orders came from there, but being the closest base to the coast they were going to be targeted by the Luftwaffe. Any bomber that was driven off by fighters and failed to reach their targets inland – like Hornchurch, Debden or Kenley – would drop their bombs on Manston on the way back.

  They had dozens of anti-aircraft positions surrounding the base, numerous ditches into which flyers could dive if they couldn’t reach a shelter, but ground crew and anyone working in the huddle of buildings would be sitting ducks.

  He swallowed a nasty taste in his mouth as he thought that his request for a transfer might be considered as cowardice – that he lacked moral fibre – but the reverse was true. He was far more likely to go for a burton in the air than he would be footling around telling others what to do.

  Leaving the woman he loved would be a wrench, but there was a war on and all men had to put duty first.

  The man from the Air Ministry had arrived in a taxi Anson and stayed for an hour before flying off to inspect somewhere else. Manston was now fully operational as far as the bigwigs were concerned and they were to expect an influx of personnel over the next week or two.

  He completed his transfer request and put it in the pouch of letters and documents to be taken directly to Bentley Priory, the gloomy headquarters of fighter command. He’d commandeered the Hillman to take Sarah to the social that evening.

  He felt a jab of guilt that he’d not even spoken to her on the telephone during the past week. He had good news for her about the horses. His sister had found a home for them and was sending a horsebox to collect them as soon as it could be arranged.

  Some of the chaps had fiancées, wives even, but the majority of the men were just out to have a good time. As long as they made sure they took French letters with them, he wasn’t going to interfere.

  Much as he’d like to make love to Sarah, he wasn’t going to seduce her into bed. He loved her and hoped that one day they would marry but their lives were on separate paths at the moment and their relationship must remain more or less platonic.

  The mood amongst the chaps was buoyant as it had been reported in the paper that three hundred British prisoners of war had been rescued in a daring raid on a German tanker hiding in a Norwegian fjord. These poor blighters had been captured from ships sunk by the Graf Spee. On balance, he and Jimmy had decided they’d rather be shot out of the sky than drowned in the sea.

  He pulled up outside Goodwill House, hoping his passengers would be on the porch waiting for him. They weren’t. He knocked and shouted but the only response he got was from the puppy yapping somewhere.

  Where the hell were they? After several fruitless minutes banging and shouting he was forced to accept that they’d gone without him. This didn’t improve his temper, which was already frayed because he’d had to deal with several annoying administrative problems which had delayed him.

  He knew where the village hall was and it would only take him ten minutes to get there. He was tempted to abandon the evening and return to base but thought that would be childish.

  The battered lorry from the base was parked outside the hall, which he’d expected, but there was also a large saloon car, which he hadn’t.

  This event, as all were nowadays, was being held late afternoon so at least the guests could arrive in daylight even if they would have to depart in the blackout. The laughter and music coming from inside lifted his spirits a little. It was amazing how people were able to forget there was a war on and enjoy themselves at something as simple as a village social.

  The blackouts were already drawn, which was a wise precaution. He pushed open the door and the racket made him smile. The doors leading into the hall were open and he could see some sort of silly game in progress which was causing a great deal of hilarity. He wasn’t sure children’s games were quite his thing but he was prepared to join in if Sarah wanted him to.

  There was a trestle table behind which sat two smiling village women. ‘Good afternoon, squadron leader, your young lady was somewhat put out by your tardiness. Please put your sixpence in the tin and take a peg and raffle tickets from the bowl.’

  How in God’s name did they know about Sarah?

  He did as asked, but was mystified by this request. The other lady pointed to a pencil securely tied with string to a nail hammered into the trestle. ‘Write your name on one side of the raffle ticket. Then attach it to your overcoat and hand it in to the two boys over there. Then, when you give them the other half of the ticket on your departure they’ll be able to find it for you without difficulty.’

  He grinned and nodded. ‘Ingenious. Thank you. How did Lady Harcourt and her daughter get here? I hope they didn’t walk.’

  ‘No, they have a charming French gentleman and his family staying with them and he drove them here.’ The speaker exchanged a smile with her friend before continuing. ‘I think they are quite puzzled by what’s happening here this afternoon. I don’t think they have anything similar in France.’

  After handing in his greatcoat and other belongings to the spotty youths in charge of the cloakroom, he headed for the party. He paused in the doorway, scanning the crowd for Sarah and her mother, and this mysterious French family.

  ‘Angus, I’m sorry I didn’t wait for you but Monsieur Ducray offered to bring us and it would have seemed impolite not to accept.’ Sarah appeared at his side, looking beautiful in a floral frock that fitted closely over the bosom and flared out in a full skirt. It suited her admirably.

  ‘I should have called and told you I was going to be late. This looks fun – what exactly’s going on?’

  ‘Have you never played musical chairs? What a miserable childhood you must have had.’ Her smile made him regret his decision to keep his distance. ‘Mind you, I’ve only ever played this once and that was last year when I came to my first social.’

  ‘I thought these sorts of games were for the children but there are as many adults involved as little ones.’

  ‘You’ll note that the grown-ups let the children sit down first before fighting for the remining empty chairs. It’s all very silly, but terrific fun. Would you prefer to join the more sedate group playing whist at the far end of the hall?’

  She was standing so close to him he was able to speak directly to her without anyone else overhearing. ‘What I’d prefer to do, sweetheart, is kiss you but I think I’d better not.’

  Something flashed in her eyes and then her arms were around his neck and he couldn’t resist. He kissed her thoroughly, barely managing to remain within the bounds of decency. Why had she decided to announce their involvement so publicly?

  Joanna was enjoying her conversation with Mrs Thomas, who was being remarkably polite this afternoon. They had managed to talk for fifteen minutes without either of them getting irritated with each other.

  ‘My word, I thought better of your daughter, Lady Harcourt. Even the village girls don’t behave so inappropriately in public.’

  She turned and saw her daughter in the arms of her squadron leader whilst he kissed her and they were attracting a great deal of attention. This was hardly surprising, as not only were they the most attractive couple in the hall, he could be considered the most eligible bachelor and she the most eligible young lady.

  What had possessed Sarah to display her partiality so publicly?

  ‘As everybody is well aware they are serious about each other, I can see no harm in them exchanging a kiss here or anywhere else. If you look carefully, Mrs Thomas, you will see that there’s not a single disapproving face in here apart from yours.’

  She made her way through the riotous game players – the only ones not watching this embrace – and arrived at her daughter’s side just as they came up for air.

  ‘I take it that congratulations are in order? I hardly think, Squadron Leader Trent, that you would behave as you have in full view of the entire village if you had not just become engaged.’

  She knew perfectly well they hadn’t but thought it would no harm for them to be forced to explain their inappropriate behaviour.

  ‘My lady, if I thought Sarah would accept my proposal then I would go down on one knee here and now.’

  ‘How do you know what I will say if you don’t ask the question?’

  Her daughter was calling his bluff. He rose to the occasion and with a blinding smile dropped dramatically to one knee and spoke in a voice loud enough to be heard from one end of the hall to the other.

  ‘Miss Harcourt, would you do me the honour of becoming my wife? Will you make me the happiest of men?’

  Whether she or Sarah was more astonished by his behaviour it would be hard to say. Sarah replied quietly.

  ‘I’ll give your offer suitable consideration and you will have my answer in a day or two. Now, kindly get up and stop making a complete fool of yourself.’

  He was on his feet as smoothly as he descended. ‘Then I shall wait with bated breath. Lady Harcourt, please keep your congratulations in hand until I have my answer.’

  ‘Good heavens, young man, I didn’t expect you to actually propose. Sarah’s going to be a doctor or a nurse and certainly doesn’t need a fiancé as well.’

  ‘Mummy, Angus knows that perfectly well. He was just playing to the crowd. Good – musical chairs has finally reached its conclusion and Betty said there would be dancing next. I’m hoping I can do better than I did last time.’

  ‘I’d better go and speak to everybody and say – well, what shall I say? Everybody heard the proposal, but they didn’t hear your answer as you didn’t speak as if on a parade ground as he did.’

  ‘Tell them that we’re going out. Anything else is not their concern.’

  Sarah was enjoying the social, although the constant comments from the other revellers about her relationship with Angus were annoying. A couple of the girls from the village said they would be only too happy to take him on if she wasn’t going to marry him.

  There were more men in blue and khaki than there were in civilian clothes. Those that weren’t in uniform were mostly older men, some of whom would never be called up, while others were still waiting. The British Army was in France at the moment and they didn’t really need more conscripts.

  ‘I notice most of the men are popping out for a drink at the pub. I’m quite happy with tea and orange squash but feel free to get a beer if that’s what you want.’

  ‘I’m not a big beer drinker myself. I’m a whisky man if given a choice, but not even much of that.’

  ‘My father drinks whisky and there’s a decanter in his study, as well as two bottles in his desk drawer. Next time you come I’ll make sure you get a glass.’

  ‘That Frenchman is heading this way with his family in tow. Are you going to introduce me?’

  ‘Monsieur and Madame Ducray, allow me to introduce you to my boyfriend, Squadron Leader Trent.’

  Hands were shaken and greetings exchanged. ‘Mademoiselle, although we have found the experience interesting, an hour and a half is sufficient. I assume that you will be returning in order to serve dinner at the correct time.’

  Angus stiffened next to her and she touched his hand. He nodded but his eyes were hard as he stared at the speaker.

  ‘No, I’ll be coming back with Squadron Leader Trent but not for another hour. I explained to madame this morning that, because of the social, dinner would be at eight o’clock tonight and not at six.’

  She deliberately turned away and smiled a warning at Angus. ‘That’s the music for a polka. Shall we dance?’

  He swept her away and they spun around the floor at breakneck speed and almost collided with others doing the same. After just one turn she realised they had to go after all. ‘Has he gone?’

  ‘Yes, they left immediately. You didn’t tell me he was so unpleasant. He speaks perfect English, not a trace of an accent, I wonder how that is?’

  They threaded their way through the crowd and into the comparative peace of the lobby. ‘Would you be kind enough to find my mother and tell her that I’ve got to leave immediately? I know I said we weren’t going for another hour but he can’t get in as the house is locked. I’ll find our coats – do you have your ticket so I can claim yours as well?’

  He handed it over and she rushed to the cloakroom. Scarcely fifteen minutes after the Ducrays had departed, they were in the car and speeding towards home. Mummy had decided to stay and said she would get a lift back from someone when the event ended.

  Angus returned to the theme he’d started earlier. ‘How did he end up in your house?’

  ‘I’m not exactly sure, but somebody from Ramsgate contacted Mummy and asked if she’d put them up until a permanent arrangement could be made. We weren’t told anything about them apart from that they were wealthy.’ She smiled in the darkness of the car interior. ‘I thought he might be a German spy but he’s obviously not as his family’s French. They don’t speak any English and so far the two girls haven’t uttered a word to me and my French is reasonable.’

  ‘France is still unoccupied, as is Belgium, but I don’t blame him for getting out. The writing’s on the wall and it’s only a matter of time before German tanks have overrun the entire continent.’

  ‘What a depressing conversation, and up till now I was having such a good time. Are you going to come in?’

  ‘I’m not leaving you to cook dinner and serve it by yourself. I don’t suppose there’ll be enough over for us? I haven’t had anything since breakfast.’

  ‘There’s plenty – it’s nothing elaborate tonight. Mixed vegetable soup, omelettes and sauté potatoes followed by apple pie and custard. They also have wine which they pay extra for.’

  ‘Sounds perfect to me. If you cook, I’ll serve.’

  ‘In which case you deserve a very large glass of whisky to make the chore seem less onerous.’

  ‘I forgot to tell you. Someone will be coming for the hunters next week. If they prove to be as good as I’ve said then they’ll be happy to buy them.’

  ‘That’s the best news I’ve heard all week. Starlight, my mare, is now content to be driven, so when the land girls finally do arrive then they can use her to get to whatever farm they’re working on.’

  They pulled into the turning circle and the Ducray car was there but it was empty. ‘Where on earth are they? Would you look in the barn and stables? Although heaven knows why they would go there. In fact, that man isn’t stupid, so why didn’t he ask for the key before he left?’

  ‘God knows. I’ll take my torch and have a scout around and see if I can find them.’

  She got out the door key and was about to put it into the lock when she realised the door was already open. ‘Angus, they must be inside. I’m sure we locked up before we left so I don’t know how they managed that.’

  He arrived at her side at a run. ‘Here, sweetheart, let me go in first. There’s something dodgy about all this.’

  She was only too happy to slip behind him. Her palms were clammy, her heart pounding, but she would be safe with him here. He pushed open the door and she expected to find lights on at least in the drawing room but the place was silent and dark. If they were in here, they certainly weren’t making a noise. The puppy wasn’t barking his usual greeting. That was even more disturbing than the lack of human noise.

  There was no need to be told to be quiet – it was the sort of situation where one instinctively kept silent.

  19

  Angus moved into the centre of the grand hall, keeping the feeble beam of his torch pointed towards the parquet floor. Sarah was right to be concerned that the puppy wasn’t barking. It had certainly made enough noise earlier that evening when he’d banged on the door.

  She was standing close behind him and he could feel her tension. Four people couldn’t just vanish into thin air and neither could a puppy. They must all be in the same place.

  ‘Do you think they could be in the cellars? The puppy would have followed them down. That would explain why we can’t hear them.’

  ‘I can’t think of anywhere else they could be, but why would they go down there? If there’d been an air raid that would be different – I’m certain the girls wouldn’t be there willingly as they’re far too nervous.’

  ‘I’m pretty sure this isn’t a burglary…’

  ‘Burglary? I didn’t think of that – could there be robbers creeping about collecting the silver?’

  ‘I just said I’m certain that isn’t the case. The Ducrays didn’t have a key, so how did they open the front door? This is all very mysterious but I’m sure there’s a simple explanation.’

  They were talking quietly but their voices still echoed in the empty space. ‘I’m going to put the lights on. Why don’t you call out? You’ve certainly got a very loud voice.’