D for Daisy (The Blind Sleuth Mysteries 1)

D for Daisy Part 5: 1943 - The funeral

Daisy lived in the dark, though she could have argued that a blind person is never in the dark. But at her flat in Tufnell Park, all the windows were blacked out permanently.

Long before the German bombers had appeared in the skies of London, the population had been told to black out every window of every home at night. The first orders to that effect had been issued at the beginning of September 1939, even before the war was officially declared. Streetlights were switched off or dimmed, shops had to install two curtains at the door, one behind the other, to prevent light from escaping as customers arrived or departed. The blackout soon proved to be one of the most inconvenient measures at the outset of the war, disrupting everyday life for everybody before a single bomb had fallen. Another inconvenience was the requirement to carry a gas mask in a shoulder bag at all times. There was widespread grumbling, but no one dared to question the necessity of these measures.

For Daisy all this had made no difference, or very little. At the time she had just lived on quite happily in the permanent blackout that had been her world ever since she was born. Even when she forgot to take along her gas mask, which happened often, no policeman or air raid warden dared reproach a poor blind girl, and they left her alone. When those first orders were issued, she had been in love and living with her head in the clouds, lost in delightful thoughts. Of course she had still been at home in Barnsbury with her parents at the time, or at school, where the war affected her even less.

Sitting in her darkened living room on the second day after Ralph's death, Daisy sipped her tea and thought back to the time when they had moved in together. Ralph had said, "I've dreamed of this all my life. A simple little flat in London, in an ordinary neighbourhood on the outskirts. To just share a modest home with my lovely wife, away from the social constraints of manor life... You have no idea how endlessly I fantasized about this."

"And did you ever imagine that the girl you would marry would be blind?

"No, of course not. That came as an unexpected bonus..."

"A bonus, really?"

"Yes, and the bonus is, that you opened up a whole new world for me."

"Well, isn't that what a girl is always supposed to do for her lover?"

"Yes, but I'm afraid it rarely happens! Apart from doing just that in bed, obviously..."

Oh, how delightful it had been to move in together! They'd had no other honeymoon than to hole up in their poky little flat and make love as much as they wanted. They had done that with the intensity of despair, because after ten days Ralph had to go away to start his Cadet training.

But it was also very strange to be married, all of a sudden. A few weeks before their wedding, Daisy had confided to Ralph, "One moment you're just a girl, you know: attending a boarding school, doing your A levels. Then you turn eighteen, and a few months later you're supposed to be a married woman, setting up your own household."

"I know," Ralph had replied. "You're much too young to be a bride, and I to be a bridegroom. The only reason I asked you to marry me, is that I want to be allowed to make love with you..."

"Well, and how do you think it feels to receive a proposal from a man who maybe has only a few months to live?"

"Then let's make the best of the little time we have, as the convict said on his way to the gallows."

At that time Ralph had just adored gallows humour. It was at the beginning of 1941, the Battle of Britain had come and gone, and had been on the front pages and on the wireless for months. Everyone was aware of the fact that RAF pilots did not live long. Even going through the pilot training programme was hazardous in the extreme. Then the Blitz had started, and everyone who stayed on in London felt likewise that life could be snuffed out at any moment without any forewarning. Furthermore, when Ralph had started flying his first bombing missions over enemy territory, the feeling of impermanence became even more acute.