One Little Foot

One Little Foot

"But Woody, you've got to come; everyone will be expecting you, don't
be so stupid. You go every year."

"Don't shout at me George, I know what I'm doing. It's not the same
this year, it's different, you know it is."

"What's up?"

"Oh, hello Tom. It's Woody, he's being stupid. Says he's not coming
next week."

"Don't be daft, of course he is."

"Don't you start Tommo, I'm getting enough earache from George here. It
was all right when it was being held here, in England but this is in
France and I just wouldn't feel right about going. You know I never
went there."

"You're right, he is being stupid. I've a good mind to hit him."

"You and whose army? I'll take you on any day"

"Pack that in, there's no need for violence."

"He threatened to hit me."

"He's being stupid."

Anyone observing this scene from a short distance would see three old
codgers standing by a park duck-pond shouting and waving their walking
sticks at each other and in danger of doing each other an injury. The
observer could not be more wrong.

William (Woody), George and Tom's life's had run almost parallel since
they were nippers. They lived in the same street, went to the same
school, got married at around the same time, had children and
grandchildren. They were also widowed within a few years of each
other.

But there was a period when the parallels parted.

---------------------------

"Monsieur, please, please."

William ' Woody' Turner looked down at the gaping hole in the floor
between them and then at the girl's frightened face.

"My hand. Grab my hand. Take my hand. Do it. Do it now!"

"I can't. I can't reach."

"You can. You must. A bit more. A bit more. That's it, I've got
you."

But he didn't have her. Afraid that he might fall himself he couldn't
lean over far enough to grab her wrist. He clutched at her hand but
fingers slippery from perspiration and fear, he couldn't get a
grip.

The look of sheer terror on her face and her piercing scream as she
fell would haunt his dreams forever.

------------------------------------------

"Now listen," said George, always the diplomat. "I know exactly how you
feel, Woody."

"Do you?" Asked William, pulling a bag of breadcrumbs from his pocket
and starting to feed the ducks.

"Yes I do. We both do, don't we Tom?"

"Absolutely." Said Tom, fishing out his own bag of crumbs.

"We understand that you've always felt out of it because you weren't
allowed to join in the last bit of nastiness, but someone had to stay
behind and build the engines and gearboxes. And, you know Woody, we've
always been proud that one of us was one of the best toolmakers in the
country and that you worked on all that secret stuff."

"Was one of the best! What D'you mean was?"

"O k, ok," said Tom, "We know the youngsters today couldn't hold a
candle, and we also know that after work each day you'd go
fire-watching. You did your bit, Woody, just like the rest of
us."

-----------------------------------------

! Now what! He thought as he peered through the gaping hole at her
inert body lying below him. ! Wonder who she is. French uniform. Lots
of them around here right now! He could see that rubble had fallen all
around her. The bottom half of her body was already covered. The heat
was getting more intense, the noise was deafening and all sorts of
lethal stuff was falling out of the sky
' Probably dead' Thought William' Or she soon will be' He contemplated
the ten foot drop.'To hell with it' He thought. ' She's nothing to me.
Just one more dead Frog. Who gives a monkey's?'

-------------------------------------------

"So you see" said George, pinching a handful of Tom's crumbs,"We all
did what we had to do. Me and Tommo here, we was bloody infantry.
Cannon fodder. But without your brains our boys wouldn't have had
engines for their planes or tanks."

"That's very eloquent you tight bastard" yelped Tom. "But bring your
own breadcrumbs."

"Tight, who are you calling tight. Just remember it's your turn to pay
for the tea and toast this morning."

"I paid for it last time."

"In a pigs eye you did."

"Are you calling me a liar?" Tom brandished his stick like a
sword.

"Too bloody right I am," replied George, hitting Tom's stick with his
own.

The pair of them then began a mock dual, carefully tapping the other's
stick with his own taking care not to fall over. At their ages falling
over could have serious consequences.

"Daddy, why are those men fighting?"

With a sigh William turned to speak to the little boy on the tricycle
accompanied by his dad.

"They're not really fighting son. They're re-enacting a war they were
once in."

"What war was that then?" Scoffed the dad, "the war of the roses?" He
snorted a laugh.

William looked the man straight in the eye.

"Yeah, that's right mate, probably before your time."

The man shrugged and they both went on their way.

William turned to his companions whose dual had now petered out due to
lack of breath.

"Have you two finished? Every bloody morning it's the same thing. We
meet here to have a pleasant stroll around the park, feed the ducks
then go off for a bit of breakfast. Why can't we just do that without
you two trying to kill each other?"

"But he said?."

"I don't care what he said" William was uncharacteristically agitated,"
I will pay for the tea and toast today and we'll start the rota again,
only please shut up."

"All right" said Tom, "There's no need to get stroppy."

"Yes there is a need to get stroppy because stroppy is how I feel. Now
you two start acting your ages instead of your shoe sizes and lets get
on."

Seeing the looks on their faces he realised he wasn't being fair and
softened his tone.

"I've decided to come to the reunion next week."

"I wouldn't want to twist your arm" snapped Tom.

"It's all right", George the peacemaker; "Tom, you go on ahead, I want
a word with Woody. Well, go on."

Tom mumbled something obscene under his breath and started toward the
park gates.

"What did he say to you, Woody?"

"What did who say? What are you on about?"

"That bloke, the one with the kid on the bike. He said something that
got right up your nostrils. Made you change your mind."

"You're a good bloke George, but don't dig too deep. You don't know
what you'll find."

-------------------------------------------

Suddenly the floor started to tremble under his feet and Woody realised
that if he didn't jump he'd be thrown down. Dropping to the floor at
the edge of the hole he grabbed a protruding piece of broken joist,
swung his body off the edge, hung in space for a brief moment; then
dropped as lightly as he could beside the unconscious girl.

The heat was intense, the floor he had just been standing on was coming
down. The roof was caving in. the whole building was
disintegrating.

'Time I wasn't here' thought Woody, and he started to scramble his way
out.

-----------------------------------------------

"Y'know" said Tom, sucking in a deep breath which was a sure indication
that he was about to pontificate upon a subject about which he knew
almost nothing, "Y know, I reckon they was dead lucky they met in the
middle. Otherwise they would have had two tunnels."

They were boarding the Eurostar train which none of them had ever
ridden before. There were about forty in their party.

"Don't be stupid," said George, "They used special instruments. Didn't
they Woody?"

"They used lasers, with a margin of error of about three inches."

Always the engineer, Woody had followed the tunnel's progress with
interest.

The three found their seats and whilst Tom and George settled into a
light banter to pass the time, Woody lapsed into introspective silence.
It was as if he felt himself overcome by a great sadness. He loved the
other two as though they were his own brothers. They had been part of
his life for all of his life, but suddenly he really wanted to be alone
with his thoughts. He glanced out the window at the Kent
countryside.
'Be going through the tunnel pretty soon' he thought.

---------------------------------------------

"Nearly there, almost out of here. It's too late to save her, I'll be
killed myself. It's too late, she's dead, she must be.'

The building was now in the final stages of destruction. The fire from
the incendiaries was getting closer. Through the rips in the roof he
could see the searchlights desperately trying to lock on as the ack-ack
shells screamed angrily into the sky. Background to it all was the deep
thump, thump of the thousand-pounders.

The girl's body was now almost covered with debris.

'She's dead, she must be.'

'Oh, to hell with it'.

-----------------------------------------------

"Woody,Woody. Come on mate, wakey wakey. You've had a lovely kip but
we're almost there. Shake a leg."

It was George shaking his shoulder. The train was pulling into
Paris.

As soon as the train stopped and the doors opened, the carriage was
invaded by a group of youngsters who started to collect the men's bags
and cases.

"It's all right everyone," A woman's voice, "they are here to assist
you off the train and onto the bus. There will be another group at the
other end to help you into the hotel."

A girl of about twelve reached for Woody's bag.

He considered her freckles and blue eyes. 'Just like one of my
granddaughters' he thought.

"And what's your name, young lady," he asked.

"Marie, monsieur."

"Well, Marie, I'm very pleased to meet you."

"And I'm very pleased to meet you, monsieur, and very pleased you have
come to Paris."

The journey through Paris was accompanied by a lot of chattering from
the men. How they had, or had not, been there before. How the Eiffel
Tower was just like Blackpool's and the Arc de Triumph was a
Marble-Arch knock-off.
Woody didn't feel like talking to anyone, just sat, staring out of the
window.
Their arrival at the hotel was the same as at the station; a swarm of
youngsters to help them. This time a young lad lugged Woody's bag off
the coach and into the lift.

Alone in his room Woody considered that he had travelled all over
Europe but had never visited Paris.

'Why was that,' he wondered. 'Afraid of a memory?'

-----------------------------------------

"Excuse me Sister, a young woman in a French uniform was brought in
here late last night or early this morning. Any news?"

"Are you a relative?"

"No, I'm just inquiring."

"I'm sorry, we cannot give information?.." She stopped on seeing
the
I.D card being held in front of her.
William hated people who pulled rank and this was the first and last
time he was ever to do so.

"No need to make a fuss" said William, kindly; "I only need a few
moments.

"Very well," she said, "this way." She led him along the ward to an
enclosed bed. "Here, I can give you one minute only, she is still
partially sedated."
She opened the curtain to let him in. Then, having reasserted her
authority stepped away.

William looked down at her. She appeared asleep. He coughed lightly.
Her eyes opened just a slit; she seemed to know instinctively who he
was.

"Monsieur" she mumbled.

"Are you all right?" he asked, then realising that it was a pretty
stupid question.

She tried to smile. "Are you the one who got me out?"

"Yes, I'm sorry."

"Sorry! You saved me. What is your name?"

"William Turner, my friends call me Woody." He saw her puzzled look.
"It's a sort of English joke."

"Monsieur Woody Turner, my English hero."

She tried to smile but the anaesthetic pulled her down and she drifted
off.

-----------------------------------------

The reception and dinner were to be held at a large banqueting suite
close to the hotel and everyone had been advised to have a good nap
during the rest of the afternoon. Woody lay back on the bed, glad that
he had paid the extra to have a single room. He could just imagine the
chattering going on in the other rooms; especially between George and
Tom.
He shut his eyes and tried not to think.

--------------------------------------------

"Sorry sir, you must leave now." The nurse was back in charge. He
followed her to the ward exit.

"Excuse me asking, sister, but there's something I don't quite
understand. Why is she under sedation? Has she had an operation?"

"When she came in most of her injuries were easily dealt with but her
right foot was very badly damaged. There was already an infection with
a real risk of gangrene. The surgeon had to make a quick
decision."

"So her foot??" Woody already knew the answer to his question.

"Yes sir. I'm sorry. It couldn't be saved. Would you like to speak to
the doctor?"

"No thank you."

------------------------------------------

It was a short walk to the reception where they would meet the rest of
the reunion. A gathering of old men and a few women shuffling
around,
poking at the carpet with walking sticks, half smiling at each other;
tired, worn out. Struggling to match vaguely remembered faces with long
forgotten names.

"I'm telling you it's frogs legs with snails for afters. It's the
national dish."

"Oh don't be so stupid. They know we're English. They wouldn't try to
force us to eat that foreign muck."

'Here we go' thought woody. 'George and Tommo at it again'.

The banqueting suite was very large which was just as well. The number
of visitors from England was doubled and trebled by those from other
countries.
Woody, George and Tom had just located their table, which was
beautifully laid with linen and silver, when an attendant appeared in
the doorway reading from a card and calling out in a loud but polite
tone

"Woodyturner, paging monsieur Woodyturner."

"Hey, monsewer, over here." It was Tom, "Say Woody, I wonder what he
wants. Maybe the French president wants to meet you."
"Shut up Tommo," said Woody sharply. "Yes, young man." He asked the
attendant, "What can I do for you. I am Mister Woody Turner."

The attendant spoke quietly and with supreme politeness.

"Pardon mois, monsieur. There is a Madam in the foyer who would like to
speak to you."

"Would you believe it, Woody's pulled."

"Tommo, shut it."

The blood had drained from Woody's face and an icy coldness had settled
about his shoulders

"Woody," it was George, always the sensitive one, "something's wrong.
Would you like me to go with you?"

"No thanks George, I'm sure I can deal with it whatever it is.

As soon as he saw the elderly figure sitting bolt upright in the window
seat he knew. He stood in front of her and he noticed the walking stick
by the chair. They stared at each other for several moments before she
spoke.

"Monsieur Woodyturner?"

"My name is William Turner. My friends call me Woody."

"Ah yes" she said, tapping the seat next to hers with her stick. "The
English joke."

He sat.

"I don't even know your name. What are you doing here?"

"My name is Adele and I am here by invitation. I served in the same war
as you monsieur Woodyturner? I did not know that you would be here but
it was worth a try and I wanted so much to meet my English hero."

Her fluent English was enhanced by her gentle French accent.

"Well, madam," said Woody, starting to get up, "I'm glad to have met
you and that you are well. Now I must be getting back."

"No, wait." She put a restraining hand on his arm. "I have waited most
of my life to meet you and to say thank you for saving me that
night."

"It was nothing."

"It was not nothing, it was a great thing and all my family are
grateful, as I am, to my English hero."

"Woody looked properly at her for the first time. He looked straight
into her face and suddenly, for a brief lightening flash of a moment in
time he saw again that terrified face staring at him across that gaping
hole.

He knew that now was the time; the moment was here. For most of his
life he had been moving away from one awful moment in time towards
another that he knew was waiting for him.

"Madam, I didn't save you. It wasn't me."

"What do you mean it wasn't you? If not you, who?"

-------------------------------------------

"Are you all right mate."

"Yes, just get away. It's coming down."

"Anyone in there?"

"Just some Froggy girl but she's dead."

"Are you sure? Let's take a look."

"You're wasting your time, she's dead I tell you."

"There's a pulse. Help me, we can get her out.

""We'll all be killed."

"Woody, pull yourself together man. Grab her arm and pull. Don't try to
lift her, just pull. That's it, she's free. Now drag her out."

----------------------------------------

He told he her everything.
"So now you know."

"So you did save me."

"Not really, it was a fireman. A man I knew. I was ready to leave you
for dead. I was terrified. I have lived with that moment for a long
time."

"But you tried to stop me falling. Then you jumped down three metres
into that hole to save me."

"No. I could have grabbed your wrist but I didn't lean over far enough.
I was afraid I might fall. I dropped down through the hole because the
floor was collapsing. I was only trying to save myself. I was just
getting out, leaving you when the fireman came by. He knew me. He
shamed me into helping him save you. So now you know."

"My dear Woodyturner." She squeezed his arm gently."You were afraid, we
all were afraid in those terrible times. You were alone and you thought
I was dead, or dying. But with one word of encouragement from a friend
and you found your courage. In the end, when it mattered, you swallowed
your fear and pulled a young girl from a pit of hell."

"But your foot; if I'd been quicker and not run you might still have
your foot."

"Now you listen to me monsieur," she shook her finger at him in a mock
telling off, "the foot is nothing. I have skied, I have swum and had a
very active life. I have also had three daughters, seven grandchildren
and nine great grandchildren. None of those people would ever have been
born had you not saved me so what is one little foot worth against all
that? And in case you're wondering, this stick is for my old hips. You
too, I think, yes?" she tapped her stick against his.

"But I?"

"No buts." She stood up."Now I will tell you what to do. Tomorrow
morning you will go to the station and exchange your ticket for a later
one and you will come to my house for lunch where you will meet my
family. They will be pleased to meet my English hero at last. I have
talked so much about you.

Woody stood up "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I am sure." She took his arm. "Now we will go in to dinner
together"

As they walked together towards the dining room Woody felt a heavy
shadow lift from his soul and he knew that at last he could forgive
himself. He also knew that for the first time he would be able to sleep
without seeing that terrified face or hearing that piercing scream.