Today's Reading
Once she understood the ropes and overcame her doubts, this had turned out to be the best job she'd had in her life. Everything she knew about Leeds, the people she'd met as a copper, it had all come in useful. And she'd learned more than she believed possible. The days raced by so fast that they blurred at the edges. Faulkner had been right; never a moment for boredom.
By the Shaftesbury cinema Cathy pulled the cord to alert the tram driver, and stepped down to the pavement. Dan was right behind her. The rain had passed, leaving a cold, clear sky. Moonlight reflected off the silver barrage balloons, platoons of them bobbing over Leeds. The city had been very lucky so far: only a few small hit-and-run raids since the one at the beginning of September that had catapulted the city into the conflict. Before that, all the danger and destruction had happened elsewhere. London, Liverpool, Hull.
When they watched it play out on newsreels, read about it in the papers and heard the reports on the wireless, it didn't feel quite real.
Then it arrived. They heard the sirens, and the sound of the anti-aircraft guns and searchlights cutting across the sky made it all very real indeed.
Under it all, the relentless deep drone of the German planes and the thick, terrifying explosions of bombs that seemed to go on forever had brought the war all the way to their doors.
Cathy had been on duty the next morning, still shaken to her core from the raid, scarcely a wink of sleep after the all-clear. In the daylight she'd seen the damage. Marsh Lane goods station a ruin, with locomotives and wagons upended like a toddler's tantrum. Houses destroyed. Lives and businesses shattered. So much rubble. And everywhere, clinging in the air, the stench of destruction. Cordite and burnt wood. Scorched papers blowing around.
Since then, the sirens had wailed regularly, and their howling had become part of the fabric of life. They'd learned a routine: dressing quickly, bustling down to the Anderson shelter in the back garden and trying to stay warm in the bitter nights. Waiting, waiting. Holding her breath and sending up prayers. Relief at the all-clear. Everyone knew Leeds was due another big raid soon, the only question was when. Each face she saw was scared. But they were helpless. This was what war was like on the home front.
Cathy walked a hundred yards along Harehills Lane and turned down the ginnel that led into the Gipton estate. She'd done it so often she felt she could manage it blindfolded.
'All this still seems strange to me,' Dan said. 'Like a maze.'
'Hardly surprising, is it? You'd scarpered to London before we moved here.' She and her parents had been rehoused from a damp, mouldy slum on Quarry Hill out to where the air was free of smoke and soot. Seven years ago, she realized. It felt so much longer, yet it also felt like yesterday.
They'd been one of the first families to arrive. The builders were still working on most of the estate when all their possessions were fumigated in the bug van and they were handed the keys. A brand-new house. Clean and dry. Fresh paint. An indoor toilet, no sharing. Hot water. A garden. Cathy had loved the place from the moment she walked through the front door.
Her mother thought they'd stepped into paradise. She'd walked around, touching everything, needing to make certain it wasn't a dream. Even now, with the huge estate complete, Cathy felt they were living on the edge of the countryside. Sometimes at night she'd hear owls hunting and the bark of dog foxes. Her little piece of heaven.
They crossed the street, and halfway down Brander Road she stopped with her hand on the front gate. Cathy looked at her brother. No expression on his face, mouth a thin line. Not an ounce of joy in his eyes.
'Welcome home,' she said.
'Is that you, Catherine?' her mother shouted from the kitchen. The same routine every day.
'No, Ma, it's Mr Churchill dropped by for a cuppa and your advice on the war.' She glanced at her brother. He was standing in the hall, looking uncertain. 'Come and see what I brought home with me.'
Mrs Marsden bustled through, wiping her hands on her pinafore. She stopped as soon as she saw her son, eyes wide.
'Henry,' she called over her shoulder. 'Come here. See who's turned up.' She looked Dan up and down. 'Oh my, luv. This is a real treat.'
Cathy slipped away up the stairs. Let them enjoy the reunion.
This excerpt is from the eBook edition.
Monday we begin the book No One Was Supposed to Die at This Wedding by Catherine Mack.
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