I’m pleased to have award-winning author Linda Stewart Henley as a guest today on Birds, Books, and Banter. Her latest historical mystery, Kate’s War, has just been released. It’s a heartwarming, beautifully written story of survival and sacrifice.
CHAPTER 1
Sunday, September 3, 1939
The day broke gently, misty and still, but promised nothing gentle for Kate. The plans she would announce to the family that morning would not please them, especially her mother. She lingered in bed for a few more minutes while the morning sun struggled to emerge, piercing the crack between the curtains. Then she got up and tore the window coverings open, squinting at the familiar gleam of railway tracks as they disappeared around the curve towards London. She would miss the sight, but not the sound, of trains hurtling past just a stone’s throw from the house. Kate straightened her shoulders: she would go, even though leaving would unsettle her parents, deplete her paycheck, and demolish her savings. Her heart quickened at the thrill of the adventure ahead. Now she had only to let go of her doubts, fling them outside, and allow them to evaporate like steam from the passing trains.
She turned her attention to the Red Admiral butterfly perched on the windowsill. It drew its wings together, hiding their brilliant colours, then flexed and flared into the sky. Its beauty brought memories of the nickname her sister Clare had teasingly given her when they were children. Caterpillar. Because, despite her dearest wishes, Kate couldn’t fly.
But now she could. The time had come to leave her Carshalton home, take a flat closer to London with her friend Sybil, and wing into her own life. All it takes is courage, she said to herself. She took a deep breath and with a quick gesture tidied her unruly hair. She would tell her parents this very day. This very minute. She pulled on a dressing gown and sped downstairs.
She found her family clustered in the living room, surprising at this time of day. Her mother still wore her grey church-going dress and shoes. Ryan, lounging in his striped football jersey, looked sleepy. How would they react when she told them her news? She opened her mouth to speak but her father Sean held up a finger to silence her while he switched on the wireless. It crackled into life, and moments later the broadcast began. Neville Chamberlain made the announcement in his halting old-man voice.
“This country is at war with Germany.”
Kate collapsed into the nearest chair. What she most feared was happening. War. In her lifetime.
“Oh Sean!” her mother gasped, reaching for her husband’s arm. “Not again—”
“Hush, Mary Grace,” he said, turning up the volume.
The Prime Minister continued, urging parents to save their children from harm in vulnerable cities by participating in an evacuation plan called Operation Pied Piper. He ended the broadcast, saying more information would be forthcoming about this and how to prepare.
Kate’s thoughts whirled while the family remained huddled around the wireless, listening to the news without moving a muscle. Even though it was not a surprise, it was sobering to face the certainty of war. A few seconds later, Ryan stretched his legs, and Kate caught his eye.
“Thank God you’re too young to be a soldier,” she said, breaking the silence. Then, looking at her father, she asked, “Will you have to serve, Dad?”
“Probably not at first, anyway,” Sean said. “We’ll learn more soon. The king’s address comes on at six.”
Dread gripped Kate’s heart. But many young men will fight and die.
“I’ll make a pot of tea and some sandwiches,” Mary Grace said, her thin voice breaking, eyes brimming with tears. Kate rose to help.
Each member of the family sat quietly eating their lunch, engrossed in their own thoughts. They resorted to various activities to pass the time until the king’s speech. Kate went for a long walk while Mary Grace cleaned the kitchen and Sean and Ryan left to play football. With each footstep, Kate became more certain that this was not the time to announce her departure from home.
At six o’clock, the family gathered again in the living room to listen to King George. Kate moved closer to the wireless to hear.
“In this grave hour,” the king began, “perhaps the most fateful in our history . . .”
Is this really happening? Fateful? Now? When I’ve laid such careful plans? Kate thought with horror.
“. . . for the second time in the lives of most of us, we are at war.”
Kate’s attention wandered as she tried to absorb the full meaning of the words. The king spoke slowly, with hesitation. It was common knowledge that he suffered from a speech impediment, and Kate was well aware of the difficult task before him. She related to this, and held her breath in sympathy. As the king continued, his voice strengthened with confidence, and she relaxed. She appreciated his efforts to inspire courage in a jittery nation. She listened more intently.
“. . . For the sake of all that we ourselves hold dear, and of the world order and peace, it is unthinkable that we should refuse to meet the challenge.”
Kate groaned inwardly as she understood the implications for herself. I must give up my own challenge in the interest of world order and peace. She scrutinised the long faces of her family. Everyone sat transfixed, unblinking. There was no way she could leave home just now. Her spirits plummeted.
“. . . with God’s help, we shall prevail.”
Sean reached over and flicked off the wireless.
“Let’s hope so,” he said glumly.
Kate groped for something to say. “For a stutterer, I’d say it was a good speech,” she said at last. As she uttered the words, the ghost of an idea flitted through her head. Perhaps there was hope for her yet.
Mary Grace glared at her. “That’s not the point. That it’s a good speech isn’t important. We’re at war again. Don’t you know what that means?” She wrung her hands, her face stricken. “We must all stay together to get through it.”
Thinking that as usual her mother lacked sensitivity to a long-standing problem, Kate wanted to defend herself, to explain that she understood only too well her mother’s fears about the war, but the sudden blare of air raid sirens drowned her out. She clapped her ears in fright and squeezed her eyes shut as the unearthly sounds wailed up and down the scale. When the noise ceased, Sean cautiously opened the front door. Neighbours leaned from windows, and shouts of “Blimey, are the blighters bombing us already?” and “Bloody hell!” erupted along the street. Kate attempted to push past her father, but he caught her arm.
“Don’t go out. We don’t know what’s happening yet. We should stay inside and wait for instructions.”
Kate reluctantly withdrew as the reality of the situation gripped her. Her country was at war, and her dreams and ambitions could be dashed to a million pieces. The devastation, the utter hopelessness and cruelty of war, would be here, in England. The all-clear siren sounded, one long, sustained note signaling the end of the air raid alarm. She clapped her hands to her ears again, knowing that it signaled the beginning of a new and inescapable kind of alarm. However would she adjust, as adjust she must?
Bio
Linda Stewart Henley is an English-born American. She moved to the United States with her family when she was sixteen. She is the author of two award-winning novels Waterbury Winter and Estelle. She now lives in Anacortes, Washington with her husband.
Blurb of Kate’s War: “Kate’s War, the story of a quiet English girl living a quiet life just outside London in the late 1930s, becomes the story of a life made larger and deeper in the run-up to the beginning of WWII. As in Henley’s two previous novels, the creative life of main characters battles with the demands of daily life, and Kate’s singing and teaching of music acts as a foil against the trauma of persecution and war. Henley’s rich creation of pre-war England and the resilience of ordinary people called to become extraordinary make this well-written novel a wonderful read.”–Barbara Stark-Neman, author of Even in Darkness and Hard Cider.
Links: https://[http://www.facebook.com:lindahenley]www.facebook.com:lindahenley
www.lindastewarthenleyauthor.com