‘No, thank you—you enjoy it!’ she replied.
She purposefully absorbed the sights, sounds and smells of freedom for a little longer before climbing back onto her bicycle and continuing through to the other side of the village. In the rows of cottages that she passed, flags were displayed in the windows, but all here was quiet.
She stopped outside Lime Tree Cottage and leant her bicycle against the low stone wall. Walking up the short front path, she checked her hair in the reflection of the front window and knocked at the door.
Moments later, the door was opened and there stood Woody, tilted slightly over on his crutch. He smiled. ‘You look amazing, Elsie. Come on in.’
Elsie stepped inside and pecked him on the lips. ‘Happy VE Day, Englebert.’
He tapped her arm playfully. ‘Happy VE Day, Elsie.’
They kissed again, fervently, passionately.
Epilogue
13th August 2016, Rye, East Sussex
The resplendent building of Rye Town Hall was quiet. Suddenly, from the Doric doorway burst a suited man carrying a camera. He scuttled across the street and began sliding and rotating his camera lens.
Moments later, out stepped the town crier, Rex Swain. Dressed in the full regalia of his office, he clutched at a shiny brass hand-bell. He walked through the central archway of the five that adorned the front of the building and waited solemnly.
Behind him came the sound of multiple footsteps and excited babble.
Then, came the bride and groom. She, in a white, mermaid sleeveless dress and he in a smart fifties-style blue suit.
More people—friends and family—poured from the ancient building and gathered themselves around the grinning couple.
The town crier silenced the assembled crowd by ringing his bell and loudly shouting, ‘Oyez! Oyez! Be it known that Morton and Juliette have been married in Rye Town Hall. His worship the Mayor, his wise council and the citizens of Rye wish them a long and happy life together. May God bless this marriage and may God bless old England and the ancient town of Rye. I give you the new Mr. and Mrs. Farrier.’
The group cheered and confetti was thrown.
Morton—flanked by his best man, Jeremy—squeezed Juliette’s hand and kissed her.
‘God, I hope that photographer is good at Photoshopping,’ Juliette whispered, staring at Morton’s bruised face.
Morton grinned and kissed her again.
A gentle meep-meep sounded, as a burgundy Austin Seven, adorned with white balloons, pulled up outside the Town Hall.
‘Your carriage awaits, Madam,’ Morton said, leading Juliette down the steps to the awaiting vehicle.
The chauffeur opened the door and they climbed in under yet another shower of confetti.
‘Heathrow airport, please,’ Morton said. He turned to face Juliette and grinned. ‘Welcome to the Farrier family.’
Juliette smiled. ‘God help me.’
Historical Information
Much of this book’s content is based on real facts and events. Some characters who appear in the book are also real. I have attempted to make the historical aspects as accurate as possible.
The fledging Y-Service was based at Maypole Cottage in Hawkinge, being staffed mainly by WAAF women with fluency in German. The descriptions of the aerodrome, its function as a forward airbase and the squadrons operating from it, are largely accurate. In mid-late August 1940, after severe attacks on the aerodrome, Flight Lieutenant Budge moved the Y-Service operations to higher and safer ground in West Kingsdown, initially taking over a converted toy factory. It was from here and other such intercept stations around the country that the WAAF women of the Y-Service undertook invaluable work for the war effort; the intelligence they gathered had an immediate operational value to the Royal Navy and the RAF, before being passed on for deeper analysis by the cryptographers at Bletchley Park. The descriptions of the use of the X-Gerät beam and the subsequent raid that unfolded on Coventry are correct. RAF Bentley Priory—now a museum dedicated to its role as the Headquarters of Fighter Command during the war—housed several WAAF women who, from there, helped shape key events such as the Battle of Britain and the D-Day landings. Churchill was a frequent visitor there. Several WAAF officers were also posted abroad, among them was Aileen “Mike” Clayton, who was sent out to advise on improvements to the Y-Service in Malta. Aileen, along with Flight Lieutenant Budge, Jean “Billy” Conan Doyle and Flight Officer Scott-Farnie are all real people and the descriptions of their wartime roles are broadly based in fact.
The writing of this book was inspired (but not based upon) by a real event within my family. On the 24th March 1943, my paternal grandmother gave birth to an illegitimate daughter. My paternal grandfather, serving with the Royal Army Service Corps, was posted to Singapore in January 1942. One month later, following the disastrous Fall of Singapore, he was reported missing in Malaya. My grandmother was notified that he was missing on 14th March 1942. Around the end of June, she met someone—reportedly at a dance—and the result of the liaison was that my grandmother found herself to be pregnant with this man’s baby. She was promptly shipped off by her father to a different county, where she gave birth on the 24th March 1943. Five days later she learnt that my grandfather was alive and in Japanese hands as a prisoner-of-war. Having no choice in the matter, she placed the baby up for adoption, although owing to a mistake on the baby’s birth certificate (my grandmother had declared my then-absent grandfather to be the baby’s father), it took a further eight months for the adoption to go through. My grandfather returned home in 1945 and, as far as anyone in the family is aware, my grandmother never mentioned the baby again, not ever. I discovered that my new aunt existed on the 10th July 2015. Fifteen days later we met for the first time.
The research for this book has been
