The Soldier's Daughter

The Soldier's Daughter by Rosie Goodwin Page A

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Authors: Rosie Goodwin
Tags: Fiction, Sagas
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as if I’m being smothered. I reckon they’d cut me food up for me if I’d let ’em. At the end o’ the day it’s only me leg that’s broke, ain’t it? It’s not as if I’m helpless.’
    Briony giggled. ‘Oh, how
awful
for you, being waited on hand and foot and having your every need pandered to,’ she teased.
    Snatching the cushion from behind his back he threw it at her and as she caught it she laughed.
    But then he became serious and asked quietly, ‘Did you give any more thought to what I asked you before I went away, Briony? About you bein’ my girl, I mean.’
    She lowered her eyes as she replied. ‘Things have to stay as they are, Ernie, for more than one reason. For a start-off you know how Ruth feels about you, and she’s my best friend. She’d think I’d betrayed her if anything happened between you and me. And anyway, like I said before, there’s always the chance that I’ll get shipped off to Cornwall with the kids if things get any worse here, and then we may never see each other again.’
    ‘Don’t say that!’ His eyes were beseeching her but she was saved from having to say more when Mrs Brindley walked in and dropped her shopping bag on the table.
    ‘Hello, pet,’ she greeted her. ‘Ooh, my feet are killin’ me after trailin’ round the shops all mornin’. I did manage to get us a nice bit o’ brisket fer us Sunday lunch though, which is somethin’, I suppose. I was beginnin’ to forget what beef tasted like. Now I’ll go an’ put the kettle on, shall I? Oh, an’ by the way, your little Alfie is howlin’ his head off, bless him. He just slipped over an’ grazed his knees while he were playin’ wi’ his marbles in the street. I’ve sent him in fer yer mam to clean him up.’
    ‘I’d better get round there then. I don’t think Mum is even up yet,’ Briony said anxiously as she headed for the door.
    When she’d gone, Mrs Brindley tutted. ‘That ruddy mother of hers is useless at times,’ she stated. ‘If it weren’t fer Briony, God alone knows what state them two little kids would be in. And Lois neglects herself too, these days. Before now I’ve hardly ever seen her wi’out her bein’ made up to the nines and wi’ not a hair out o’ place, but then I suppose it takes all sorts.’ And with that she set about putting the shopping away as Ernie watched.
    The plaster cast was taken off Ernie’s leg early in July and the doctor told him that he could return to his RAF base the following week. Mrs Brindley accepted this news with mixed emotions; part of her was thankful that her son’s leg had healed but the other part of her was fearful at the thought of him flying again. Only the day before they had heard on the wireless that the Luftwaffe had launched their first large-scale attack on Britain, when seventy aircraft attacked the dock facilities at Swansea and the Royal Ordnance factory at Pembrey in Wales. Portsmouth, along with many other coastal shipping convoys and shipping centres, had also been the target of aerial attacks by the Luftwaffe. It was the largest and most sustained aerial bombing campaign to date and it was called the Battle of Britain.
    ‘It’ll only be a matter o’ time now till they target the aircraft factories and the RAF airfields, you just mark my words,’ Ernie forecast grimly.
    Her mother shuddered. Now, more than at any other time, Ernie would be in the thick of the fighting, but there was not a single thing that she could do about it. Never in her whole life had she felt so helpless – and yet she also felt a sense of pride. Her lad was brave – there was no one could say differently.
    On the morning that Ernie left, Ruth and Briony pinched a couple of hours off work and accompanied him to the station.
    As they stood on the platform, none of them knew quite what to say, and it was a relief when the train chugged in.
    ‘Right, this is it then. You two take good care o’ yourselves now,’ Ernie said in a choked voice as he

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