One Summer at Deer’s Leap. Elizabeth Elgin
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He really was something, Jeannie.’
‘Oh, Cassie! Can’t we forget your airman, just for a little while?’
I grinned and said of course we could! Any time at all! And if she didn’t mind, I wasn’t in love with him, though he intrigued me – a lot!
In love with someone who, if he’d lived, would have been old enough to be my grandfather? I wasn’t that stupid!
Or was I? Because Jack Hunter would never be old. He was a young man my own age, and that was the way he would stay. And he’d go on thumbing a lift to Deer’s Leap for ever if someone didn’t help him.
‘Look – the sun is trying to get through. There are all sizes of wellies in the utility room. Beth never gets rid of any that are half decent. There’s sure to be some that’ll fit,’ Jeannie smiled. ‘Let’s go and sniff in some nice cool air.’
It was fresh again after the rain and the storm. The sun was shining the raindrops that still clung to everything, and the deep pools of water.
‘Let’s go puddle-jumping,’ I laughed, determined to say no more about the matter that shouldn’t be talked about. And anyway, we wouldn’t see the airman. Jeannie only half believed in him, so her vibes would be very negative. He wouldn’t appear.
‘Shall we take Hector?’
‘No! He’ll get wet through, then shake himself all over us!’
We took him for all that, and sloshed through sodden grass all the way to the end of the paddock, where the land rose. Then we walked on to the top of the adjoining field Jeannie said was called Wolfen Meadow.
‘Over there,’ she pointed. ‘You can’t really miss it, can you?’
Below, to our left lay a huge, flat area. It had no trees nor hedges and was fenced all round, as far as we could see, with wooden railings. And just to confirm our findings, a long, narrowing jut of land pointed in the direction of Deer’s Leap.
‘It’s the same shape as the diagram in the bomber station book. We should have brought it with us,’ I said. ‘Then we could imagine exactly where everything used to be.’
‘Do we want to?’ Jeannie said soberly. ‘I mean, if there really is such a thing as vibrations, then over there must be thick with them.’ She nodded in the direction of where RAF Acton Carey had once been, her face strangely sad.
‘Well, I do believe in vibes, and there would be all kinds if we cared to take them in. Relief, at getting back from a raid, for one. And what if a pilot was trying to make an emergency landing? The air would be white with sheer terror, I shouldn’t wonder.’
‘Do you think that’s how Susan’s pilot was killed, Cassie?’
‘I don’t know. According to the book, it was during the daylight raid on a flying bomb launching site. That was all it said.’
‘Poor Susan,’ she whispered. ‘I wonder how it was for her?’
‘I think,’ I said as I gazed in a kind of trance over that flat piece of land, ‘that she wouldn’t even be told. They weren’t married, so she wouldn’t be his next of kin. The telegram would go to his parents. I read, somewhere, that aircrews used to leave letters behind to be sent to people. Maybe Jack left one addressed to Susan Smith at Deer’s Leap. I’m almost certain the family was still there on 8 June.’
‘Hm. I must have a look at it tonight – take it to bed with me – if you don’t want to read it, that is …’
‘No. Not tonight. You’ll find it interesting, Jeannie.’
‘I think I will.’ She turned abruptly and began to walk towards the stone wall of the paddock. ‘And I’ve had enough of ghosts for one day, if you don’t mind. Let’s get the bikes out and go to the Rose. We could eat there, if you’d like.’
She laughed out loud, almost as if she were trying to shake off the spell of the past, then set off at a run, calling to Hector, her short-cut hair bobbing with every stride.
‘A good idea,’ I panted, when we reached the paddock wall. ‘I want to phone Mum, anyway.’
‘Good, then that’s settled. Let’s have a quick shower and get changed? All of a sudden, I’m hungry!’
I thought as we walked back through the wet grass that maybe Jeannie wasn’t as blasé about vibes and ghosts as she tried to make out. She was interested in the bomber station book and her eyes had been far away as she looked down to where RAF Acton Carey had once stood. I wouldn’t mind betting, I thought as I kicked off my wellies, that if she gave it a bit of effort she’d be quite good at sending out vibes. Maybe I shouldn’t be too sure that Jack Hunter wouldn’t appear if she were with me.
‘Would you be afraid,’ I said, ‘if you were to see the airman? On your own, I mean …?’
‘N-no, I don’t think I would; not after what you’ve told me, Cassie. But I’d be very, very sad, for all that. But let’s get ourselves off! I’m famished!’
The Red Rose was quiet when we walked in at seven o’clock. The darts team, the landlord told us, had an away fixture at Waddington and Bill Jarvis had gone on the mini-bus with them.
‘No grist to the mill tonight,’ I said as we looked at the menu, disappointed that Bill wasn’t there. ‘Look – would you order for me? Scampi and salad; no chips. And get a couple of drinks in, whilst I phone Mum?’ I laid a ten-pound note on the table. ‘Won’t be long.’
‘Cassie?’ Mum answered quickly, as if she had been waiting for my call. ‘I was wanting you to phone, love. Your dad’s just got back from the flower show and he says why don’t we pop up to see you tomorrow?’
‘Of course you can, but I thought he didn’t like the roads at weekends.’
‘Well, he’s changed his mind. If we set out early we should be with you about ten-ish. Is that all right, or shall we leave it till Wednesday?’
‘No! Come tomorrow!’ All at once I wanted to see them both.
‘No problem. I’ve got a chicken in the fridge. I’ll cook it tonight and bring it with me. Shall I bring saladings?’
‘Please, Mum. Lots. I don’t suppose there’d be any parkin …’
‘As a matter of fact there is, and I’ll bring an apple pie.’
‘You’re an angel!’
‘Sounds as if you haven’t been getting enough to eat, our Cassie.’
‘I have, but your cooking tastes so much better! Jeannie’s here. She’ll be pleased to meet you both.’
‘We-e-ll, if you’re sure it’s all right – somebody else’s house, I mean.’
‘Mum! Just come!’
‘In that case, no sense wasting money on the phone. I’ll give you all the news when we arrive. Dad will work out a route.’
‘If you look on the pinboard above my desk, you’ll find one there – very detailed. And warn Dad the dog doesn’t take kindly to strange men. A few cream biscuits in his pocket should do the trick – OK?’
Sunday was going to be a bright, warm day; I knew it the minute I pulled back the curtains. The grass still looked damp, but the flowers stood straight and looked more colourful against the moist black earth.
I thought with a squiggle of delight about ten o’clock and how much I was looking forward to seeing my parents.
‘Pity we didn’t get the grass cut yesterday,’ said Jeannie, who had got up early in their honour. ‘And it’s still too wet to do today,’ she said with relief.
‘I’ll