Hardcastle's Soldiers by Graham Ison Read Free Book Online Page B

an appearance at home, even on a Saturday.
    â€˜For the moment,’ said Hardcastle, who made a point of never discussing cases with his family. He was still irritated that his enquiries were being held to ransom by the military. ‘Where are the girls?’
    â€˜Kitty’s on duty,’ said Alice. For some time now, Kitty Hardcastle had been working as a bus conductress. Against her father’s wishes, she had taken the job with the London General Omnibus Company ‘to release a man to join the army’, she had said. ‘Maud’s gone out shopping up West, and Walter’s at the post office.’
    â€˜He seems to spend a lot of time there,’ muttered Hardcastle, seating himself in the armchair opposite Alice.
    â€˜Well, of course he does. Being a telegram boy means that he’s always taking those little yellow envelopes to the bereaved. I must say I wouldn’t care for his job. Have you ever noticed how the curtains twitch whenever a telegram boy cycles down the road? They’re all terrified that it’s their man who has been killed. That Mrs Wainwright from across the road has never been the same since her husband was killed on the first day of the Battle of the Somme. And that was over a year ago. And it was Wally who took the telegram. He asked her if there was a reply – which he has to do because it’s the regulations – and she just burst into tears.’
    â€˜I saw an air raid today,’ commented Hardcastle conversationally, deciding to change the subject, albeit slightly.
    â€˜Oh, really?’ said Alice as she resumed her knitting. ‘I thought I heard the maroons go off.’
    â€˜I saw one of those big German Gothas drop a bomb in the river. It didn’t do any damage.’
    â€˜Their eyesight never was much good, Ernie,’ said Alice. ‘Have you noticed how many Germans wear glasses?’
    â€˜And then one of ours came from nowhere and shot it down.’
    â€˜Where did it crash?’
    â€˜On L Division’s ground.’
    â€˜Pah!’ snorted Alice, putting down her knitting again. ‘How d’you expect me to know where that is?’
    â€˜I saw it in the grounds of the Bethlehem Hospital. Still on fire, it was.’
    â€˜You could have said that in the first place, Ernie. I’m not in your precious police force, and I don’t know where L Division is.’
    â€˜L Division is where we live, Alice,’ rejoined Hardcastle, scoring a point. At least, in his own mind. ‘Anyway, it’s that precious police force, as you call it, that pays me enough to put our food on the table, my girl.’
    Alice carefully pushed her knitting needles into the ball of wool she was using, and placed them on a side table. ‘I suppose that’s a heavy hint that you’ll be wanting a cup of tea,’ she exclaimed as she stood up.
    â€˜I’m not too happy about our young Kitty being on the buses,’ said Hardcastle, ignoring his wife’s comment, and returning to their previous conversation. ‘My tram conductor told me that one of their trams got a direct hit the other day. Everyone on it was killed.’
    â€˜Well, you won’t stop Kitty, Ernie. Direct hits on trams or not. She’s got a will of her own, that girl.’ And with that comment, Alice disappeared to the kitchen to make the tea. ‘Just like her father,’ she called over her shoulder.
    I might be a DDI at work
, thought Hardcastle,
but it doesn’t count for much at home.
    Alice returned with a tray of tea things. ‘I was lucky enough to get some of your favourite ginger snaps today, Ernie.’ She poured the tea, and sat down opposite her husband. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if there wasn’t more of those air raids,’ she said. ‘Mr Squires reckons that if there was ever another war, it’d all be with just aeroplanes.’
    â€˜Huh!’ snorted Hardcastle.