Ghost and Mystery Stories - The Woman in the Red Dress - By Don Hale

Ghost and Mystery Stories - THE WOMAN IN THE RED DRESS - By Don Hale

THE battered old dredger 'Penrose Bay' eased alongside the jetty at Dover Harbour. She had just returned with a most precious cargo, about sixty servicemen, lifted from the bloody, smoke ridden beaches of war-torn Dunkirk.

Once the butt of many a joke in the dockside taverns around Pompey, this rusting old flat-bottomed tub now took centre stage alongside a Frigate, two Destroyers and a host of other smaller naval craft and pleasure boats. This had been its finest hour!

Sergeant Tom Evans grasped at a corroded handrail on its top deck and scanned the waiting crowds on the quayside for familiar faces. After more than two years of military service in France with the outflanked British Expeditionary Force, and thankful to escape from the rapid advance of the German invasion, Royal Engineer Evans was practically back in England again.

His face became contorted though at the prospect of a reunion with his family. The last few days had been a nightmare, facing a desperate rear-guard action, he had become detached from his own unit and was posted 'missing.' Tom worried in case his parents had received that dreaded telegram and remembered, that as an arrogant 19-year old, he had refused their advice. 

He recalled the rows and bickering and had been glad to join-up in that glorious autumn of '39. Most of what his parents had told him was true. War was certainly no fun! His father knew. He had been wounded and evacuated from the Somme in 1916. Tom too had now seen action in France. He too witnessed the horrors of close conflict and had seen friends killed and wounded.

Tom had waited nearly two days for transport off that horrendous beach. He waded more than half-a-mile out into those freezing shallow, swirling waters, with colleagues to find a ship, joining a never-ending human pier of hope. 

He tried to help others, but injuries and exhaustion took their toll. He couldn't even remember the 'Penrose Bay' arriving. He remembered seeing a ship but the constant bombing, strafing and hours of waiting had confused his already exhausted mind and body. He kept hearing voices and thought someone had once shouted HIS name. 

The smoke was now thick and acrid. He recalled someone finally pulling him from the water and onto that cold steel decking. All the way home, he suffered from flashbacks. His body trembled with every reaction to the sounds of war.  

As his mind drifted again, Tom could suddenly hear the sounds of a band playing, and saw a group of young men in bright blue tunics playing a Vera Lynn number. There was a large banner' stating Welcome Home' draped from a warehouse roof. He instinctively covered his ears. He knew he was safe, but as he closed his heavy eyelids, he could still hear the shells falling and the constant rat-a-tat of machine guns.  His grip tightened as the men on the deck suddenly surged forward in their eagerness to disembark. He felt his weakened body wince as his ribs crushed against the protective bulkhead. 'Watch out there!' he bellowed. 'Sorry Sarge,' replied one of the men.  

Tom Evans was a small, wiry character. As a teenager, he believed he could take on the world and once, in 1934, claimed the East London 100-yards championship. Not anymore! It took all his strength just to grip that rail and maintain his vantage point.

His family had not heard from him for some time. He had managed to send the odd letter but remained apprehensive about seeing them again.  A loud metallic clang brought a huge cheer. A makeshift wooden gangway was being put in place and shore officers shouted instructions to the mooring crew. 

Two dockworkers scrambled up and pulled the deck chains aside. It was there, at that precise moment that he first noticed his friend Corporal Percy Broadhurst. He was sure he must have scanned that very spot many times before, but for some reason, he had not noticed his former comrade. Out of dozens of people pushing and shoving to escape the bedlam of that small ship, Percy had somehow claimed prime position at the head of the queue and waited patiently for the order to move. 

The ship had collected an assortment of service personnel. The deck crowd included soldiers, sailors and airmen. It was like the League of Nations. All carried battle scars. Their uniforms torn dirty and disheveled. Cpl Broadhurst somehow looked different. 

His uniform seemed almost immaculate. He was tall, about 6ft 2in, and despite his recent suffering, he suddenly appeared in the peak of health. Percy had been a keen amateur footballer in his day and boasted about having trials with Fulham FC.

Maybe it was a trick of the fading light but as he turned towards the Sergeant, it seemed the gaunt looks of late, had gone. Tom Evans shouted across to him, 'Percy, are you all right?  There was no reply and that brief glance was to be his last.  Percy had been the life and soul of the unit. He was a natural joker who once contemplated a stage career after demob. He had a strong Cockney accent and a ready welcoming smile.

Tom reminisced about their first meeting, and their training days in rain-sodden Yorkshire. They had both come through the ranks to earn their stripes. He remembered that Percy had often spoken of his sweetheart Kathy. 

Her parents disapproved of him and thought she could do better. The thought of rekindling that romance though had kept him going during hard times. He knew the many letters home had probably never reached her but the daily ritual gave him such pleasure and such hope.

'Move on, Move on!' barked the order, as the corporal grabbed a gangway rail and strode down to the quayside. At the foot of the gangway stood an equally tall, dark haired, striking woman in a bright red cotton dress. Soon, they were locked in a passionate embrace. They held hands and pushed their way through the crowd. At one, they seemed to turn and look back towards Tom.

The girl smiled and waved her hand in his direction. 'The jammy beggar,' thought Tom, 'That must be Kathy, but how the heck?' He looked puzzled. 'Perhaps she had heard something on the radio and knew where to find him but thought that seemed unlikely. Then how?' he asked himself - especially when he had been so badly wounded!

'Watch out!' Tom shouted, as someone gave him a sharp blow to his shin. For a split-second he lost sight of his friend ashore. His eyes searched everywhere but the couple disappeared into the crowd. He bent down to rub his injury and looked again for his friend and the young woman in the red dress. 'Kathy,' he muttered. Percy said she would be waiting.

She had been his childhood sweetheart and pledged that she would always wait. Tom was pleased but could hardly believe the rapid improvement of his friend. Just a few hours before as they headed for safety, he had seen Percy in the sick bay, where he had spent almost the entire trip. 

He had been unable to walk following a severe leg wound. His once proud right-peg, now swollen like a huge over ripe melon. It was a problematic, weeping wound. There was talk of infection - possibly gangrene. Percy had instinctively grabbed at Tom's arm and pleaded with him not to let THEM remove it.

He was still thinking of his friend when Lance Corporal Tucker tapped him on the shoulder. 'Hello Ben, what is it,’ inquired Sgt Evans. Tucker looked strained and most anxious to see him. He was a medical orderly and had accompanied the scattered remnants of the battalion from the beach.

'I've been searching for you everywhere,' said Tucker. He was sweating. Tucker too had been with Percy during Evans' last visit. 'It's your pal Percy,' exclaimed Tucker.

'Yes, I know, it's amazing, isn't it? said Evans, not really expecting a reply. 'I think he's with Kathy.'

'I don't know what you mean,' interrupted Tucker, who was being jostled by the last of an impatient deck mob. Evans noticed that Tucker was clutching a parcel of white letters. 'I'm so sorry Sarge,' he said. 'It happened so quickly. We did everything we could - but there really wasn't much chance. '

Evans struggled to understand the implication of his statement. 'What was the man on about?' he thought, as Tucker pressed the papers into his hands.

'He kept talking about you and asked me to promise that you were given these. '

'You mean Percy? He's dead? But he can't be, I've just seen him!' replied Evans pointing to the quayside.  Tucker was being crushed against a support and was struggling to explain: 'He took a turn for the worst as we entered home waters. He had been so pleased at the thought of seeing his girl again. I heard him say she's waiting!

'We left him alone for a while but then Nurse Grimble came running and shouting for help. Percy was sobbing his heart out. He had heard a shout that we had sighted land.

'Was it the English coast,' he wanted to know. 'He kept asking what the time was. I told him 3.15pm. And yes, it was Dover with the famous White Cliffs. At his insistence, we helped lift him up to look through the porthole.

'Leave me alone,’ he shouted. Tears rolled down his cheeks. He gently lay back on his bunk and just drifted peacefully away. We tried everything. He had a picture clutched tightly in his hand and seemed to have a wry smile on his face.'

Tom was stunned. He took the letters. His hands were shaking. 'Are YOU all right? asked Tucker.

'He said I should give everything to you. You would know what to do.'

 

It was two days later before Tom gathered all Percy's belongings and finally took the courage to visit Kathy at her parent’s house in Bermondsey. As he knocked on the door, a tearful old lady covered her face with a handkerchief 'Yes, can I help you?' she asked, almost sobbing.

Sergeant Evans took a deep breath as he explained the reason for his visit and asked to see Kathy.  'You had better come in son,' said a male voice from the darkened hall.

Tom did as he was told, and went inside with the small bundle of crumpled papers tucked under his arm. 'Sit down son. You say you are a friend of Kathy's young man?'

Tom looked hard at the couple, who were now seated opposite him. He was just about to explain about Percy's sudden death when the old lady started weeping again. 'She never had a chance,' said the old man. 'Hit by a truck during the blackout. They took her to the hospital but she died the following day. 3 .15pm, the doctor said. Two days ago!'

Tom tried but couldn't speak. His heart missed a beat. He remembered Tucker. And Percy asking about the time, 3.15pm, two days ago! He placed the bundle on the table and unwrapped it. There was an old photograph, the one Percy had clutched on his deathbed. It was the first-time Tom had actually seen it. It was taken on a summer's day. It showed a young woman holding hands with a tall man in uniform. It was Percy! The couple were smiling and it was that very same young woman he had seen on the quayside following his arrival from Dunkirk.

He turned the photograph over, it stated: 'From the woman in the red dress. Yours forever,' signed 'Kathy.'

'I suppose this young man's come home for her?' asked the old man. 'It's such a shame he won't see her again.'

'Yes, he's come home,' interrupted Tom. 'But now I think they are now finally together.' Tom left the papers on the table and smiled as he handed the picture to the bemused couple. He walked back down the hallway and wiped away the tears with his sleeve.