by Emma Fraser
Isabel smiled sadly. ‘And I am grateful for it all.’
Irena decided to take advantage of Isabel’s mood. ‘Has Lord Glendale said why the British aren’t attacking the Germans in Poland?’
‘He tells me very little. The Official Secrets Act, you know. However, sometimes he shares a snippet or two.’ She smiled mischievously. ‘I can be very persuasive when I want to be. I do know that we are concentrating most of our energies on defeating Hitler in Africa and stopping him taking over the rest of Europe. After that, I’m sure Britain and her colonies will turn their attention to getting Hitler and his Nazis out of Poland.’ Dr Maxwell glanced over her shoulder although there was no one else in the room and lowered her voice. ‘My dear, I don’t want to raise your hopes – indeed, I’m not sure if I should be telling you – but I have heard that the Russians are releasing their prisoners-of-war and that will include the Polish soldiers they captured.’
Irena sat up, almost splashing tea all over her dress. ‘Then Piotr could be amongst them!’
Isabel smiled. ‘It is possible, isn’t it?’
The next day, in order to welcome Richard, Isabel took a rare day off work. She was a bundle of energy, picking flowers from the garden and arranging them herself in tall crystal vases. It had rained continuously for a week and although coal was rationed she had insisted that Hannah light a fire in Richard’s bedroom. Irena had enjoyed witnessing the usually imperturbable doctor’s excitement.
Shortly before dinner, Richard arrived. He’d changed in some way she couldn’t quite put her finger on. The assurance was still there, and the smile she remembered still hovered around his lips, but when he thought no one was looking Irena noticed the darkness was still in his eyes – if anything deeper than before.
He kissed his mother and held out a hand to Irena. ‘I’m pleased to see you again, Irena.’
‘And I you,’ Irena replied, hiding her discomfort. It wasn’t just his words that unsettled her, but the way he was looking at her. As if he were drinking her in. ‘If you don’t mind, I think I shall have supper out,’ Irena said, uncomfortably aware of the flush travelling up her neck.
Isabel started to protest then gave her a grateful smile. ‘On your own? That wouldn’t be much fun.’
‘Some of my colleagues are having dinner at a club. They invited me to join them.’
That was true but she had no intention of going. She enjoyed the company of her fellow Poles but, sooner or later, talk always returned to what was happening in Poland and the news was never good. She wasn’t really hungry anyway.
She let herself out of the house and turned towards Princes Street Gardens. The earlier rain had stopped and the sky was a glorious shade of blue, feathered with skimpy clouds, the streets still busy with people, mainly women and older children, making the most of the break in the weather. At seven o’clock it was still light and would remain so for a good while yet. Not that she intended to be out late. A couple of hours at the most, then she’d slip inside and up to her bedroom without disturbing Richard and his mother.
At the top of the hill, Edinburgh Castle glowed in the evening sun, reminding her of Wawel Castle and Poland.
She’d dreamed about Piotr last night. He’d been walking towards her. It had been so vivid, so real, she could feel the sun on her arms, hear the song of the birds, see the dark hairs on his arms. But when she’d called out to him, he’d smiled and stretched out his hands, his palms facing towards her – as if to tell her that he was in a place where she couldn’t go. When she’d woken to find it was only a dream, it had been unbearable.
She found a bench and sat and watched as the sun dipped behind the city. One day she’d be back in her homeland where she belonged and she and Piotr would get married, her father leading her up the aisle. She could almost hear Aleksy giving the best man speech and although Magdalena wouldn’t be with them, she’d be there in their hearts. The image sent a jolt of grief and longing through her. Surely it couldn’t be much longer until the war was over?
Until then, she would never give up hope.
The next morning was unusually warm and Isabel insisted that Irena and Richard take advantage of the sunshine.
‘I shall ask Hannah to pack a picnic. You can take the car, Richard. Neither Irena nor I use it much and I’ve been saving the coupons for when you’re home.’
‘I’m sure Richard would prefer to invite some of his friends,’ Irena said, horribly embarrassed that her company was being foisted on Richard again.
‘I would like it very much if you would come, Irena. You’ll save me from my own company,’ Richard said with a smile.
As Isabel left them alone to organise the picnic, Irena turned to Richard. ‘I really don’t mind staying at home. I’m sure you have friends… and I have some studying I should be doing.’
‘On a day like this? Absolutely not. You can catch up on your studies any other time. You must have realised by now that in Scotland the sun rarely shines for more than two days at a time – so we must make the most of it.’ He lowered his voice. ‘Besides, it’s you I want to spend time with.’
A short while later, they were heading out of the city, and, sooner than Irena thought possible, into the countryside.
‘How do you like Edinburgh?’ Richard asked.
‘Very much. Your mother has made me feel very welcome.’
‘I knew you two would have a great deal in common.’
‘It is nice to have someone to talk medicine with. I know it must be an imposition to have me stay. There are lodgings available for us Poles but when I suggested I move out, she wouldn’t hear of it. She says she likes having someone in the house.’
‘Poor Mother. What with both Father and I in London, she must get lonely sometimes.’
‘Yet she doesn’t visit you there?’ It was something that had been puzzling Irena.
‘I’m usually at the airfield and Father’s war work keeps him busy. I doubt she’d have much more company there. Anyway, Edinburgh is where her hospital is. I can’t see Mother ever abandoning it.’ He grinned at Irena. ‘I spent a good part of my childhood in her office hoping she’d remember I was there, waiting for her.’ If he resented being forgotten by his mother he gave no indication of it.
Being the children of occasionally neglectful medical parents was, it seemed, something they had in common.
‘I used to spend time with my father at the hospital. He took me on his ward rounds at the weekends and during the summer holidays. I think that’s when I decided to become a doctor.’
‘And that was when I knew I’d never be a doctor. But like you Katherine’s always wanted to be a nurse. Clearly the cries of agony we could hear through the office walls didn’t put her off.’
‘She told me you’ve known each other a long time.’
‘For as long as I can remember. Mrs Stuart, Katherine’s mother, worked as a nurse at my mother’s hospital. When we weren’t hanging around there, my nanny looked after us both. I used to resent having this little girl always toddling after me, so I learned to ignore her. Back then I didn’t like associating with girls.’ He shot Irena a grin. ‘That’s all changed, of course.’
‘Are you sure Katherine isn’t one of your girlfriends?’
Richard threw back his head and laughed. ‘Katherine? Absolutely not. I’m afraid she knows me too well to ever want to fill that role.’ Irena was relieved. Katherine was too innocent to be romantically involved with a man like Richard. He was the kind of man who made women fall in love with him. Why wouldn’t they? Most women adored pilots and he was good-looking, titled and charming. But, she suspected, having watched him at the club, as soon as the woman fell in love with him, he would move on to another one.
‘What will you do after the war?’
The light left Richard’s face. ‘Most of us don’t think too much about the future. Carpe Diem – seize the day. That’s our motto. Plenty of time to be serious after this is all over.’
He turned down a d
irt road and the car bounced along a rutted track for a mile or two before they came to a halt.
As far as Irena could tell they were in the middle of nowhere. There was a small farmhouse on their left and in front of them, a hill.
‘How do you like walking?’ Richard asked. ‘Either we follow a path around the side of the hill and have our picnic there or we can go straight up. What would you rather?’
Irena breathed in the damp air, realising for the first time how accustomed she’d become to the smog that always seemed to hang over Edinburgh. ‘Let’s go up.’
Richard lifted a canvas bag from the back seat of the car and slung it over his shoulder. ‘Come on then.’
She was out of breath by the time they reached the top. Richard put down the bag he’d been carrying and opened it. ‘Knowing Hannah we’ll have everything we need.’ He pulled out a small blanket and laid it down next to a mound of stones. The blanket was followed by sandwiches, a flask of coffee, a bottle of champagne and two glasses. He flourished the champagne. ‘Good for Hannah. She knows me too well.’ He popped the cork and, ignoring Irena’s protests, poured them each a glass. The bubbles in the wine tickled her nose and she laughed.
‘Do you know, that’s the first time I’ve seen you laugh,’ Richard said, lowering his glass. ‘You should do it more often.’
Irena felt the heat rise to her cheeks under his frank admiration. ‘I wasn’t always serious. Before the war I was as carefree as anyone.’
He tipped some more champagne into her glass. ‘In that case, why don’t we forget about the war – just for today?’
He stretched out on the blanket and rested his head on his hands. ‘Tell me more about Poland before the war.’ He leaned over and pulled her down beside him. When she resisted he grinned again. ‘Don’t worry, I’ve never laid a hand on a girl – not if she didn’t want me to.’
Irena relaxed. She lay down next to him and tucked her hands behind her head. ‘Life in the cities wasn’t so very different to how it is here in Edinburgh or London. Many Varsovians have, or had, houses in the country. Perhaps the biggest difference between our countries is that a greater proportion of the population live in the country than they do here.’ A bee buzzed around some yellow flowers and directly above her the sky was clear with only the merest whisper of clouds.
‘My earliest memories are of the time I spent with my grandmother at her farmhouse,’ she continued.
He propped himself on his elbow and looked down at her. ‘What was that like?’
‘Wonderful. When I think back to those days I remember sunshine and the smell of cooking. My grandmother loved to cook. In the early summer she’d send me out just as the sun was coming up to pick rosebuds before they opened so we could make jam.’
‘Jam? From rose petals?’ He widened his eyes in mock disbelief.
‘I can’t imagine you know much about cooking.’
His lips twitched. ‘And you’d be right. Not one of my skills. Never found it necessary to learn, thank God.’
She was so lost in the world of her childhood, she barely heard him. ‘We’d cover the petals with sugar and pound them with a mortar. It was delicious.’
‘Go on,’ he murmured.
Irena closed her eyes. ‘There were always herbs hanging from the rafters in her kitchen. We’d go for long walks to search for them. Peppermint to make a syrup to cure stomach ache, stinging nettle for arthritis, as well as others I forget. I think that’s where my interest in medicine first started. I was so proud when people used to come to the farmhouse to see my grandmother and get one of her cures. When we weren’t searching for plants, she was teaching her recipes.’
‘Where was your mother?’
‘She died. In a riding accident.’ She lifted her necklace from under her blouse and showed him. The ruby and diamonds flashed as they caught the sun. ‘This was hers.’ To her mortification, her voice cracked. ‘It’s my talisman – as long as I’m wearing it, it feels as if she’s watching over me.’
‘Poor darling.’
The sympathy in his voice made her eyes smart. She blinked away the tears. She’d cried in front of him once and wouldn’t do so again. She tucked the necklace away. ‘I had Grandmother and Tata and Aleksy. I managed fine.’
His eyes creased at the corners. ‘I’m sure you did.’ He lay down on his back again. ‘Go on, tell me more. I like listening to your voice.’
‘I was four and Aleksy two when Mama died. Tata always worked long hours, but after Mama’s death he spent even more time at the hospital, returning home only to eat and sleep. Although Maria, our housekeeper, did her best to care for us, she had children of her own so Aleksy and I were sent to live with our grandmother on her farm near Krakow. I loved it there – apart from missing Mama. When I started school I went back to live with my father, under the care of Maria, returning to the farm – and darling Aleksy – during the school holidays. But then Grandmother died and Aleksy was sent away to school. It was a horrible time. I was lost and lonely in the Krakow apartment, so I asked Tata if I could wait for him in his office after school until he finished work, which was often very late, but I never minded. I would sit on his office floor and flick through his medical journals and textbooks, fascinated by the diagrams of body parts and photographs of rare conditions. When my interest still hadn’t waned by the time I got to secondary school, Tata started taking me on his hospital rounds at the weekend. I couldn’t talk to him about Mama, but I could talk to him about medicine.’
She slid him a look from the corner of her eye. He was watching her intently, as if every word she said mattered.
She went on to tell him about the narrow cobbled streets of the village near her grandmother’s farm, the terracotta-roofed houses and the churches filled with the smell of incense. All of a sudden, a pang of longing for Poland so fierce it almost took her breath away surged through her and she tailed off.
Richard was so quiet that for a moment she thought he’d fallen asleep but when she turned her head to check it was to find him watching her through half-closed, sleepy eyes.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I didn’t mean to bore you.’
‘Rest assured, there is nothing boring about you.’ It might be the way he talked to all women, but she couldn’t help the little pulse of pleasure his words gave her. ‘What about you?’ she asked quickly. ‘What did you do before you became a pilot?’
‘I studied law at Oxford. My Aunt Dorothea is a lawyer so you could say I was following in family footsteps.’
‘I met her in London. She seems a formidable woman.’
He grinned. ‘She is.’
‘Will you practise when this is over?’
‘I plan to.’
‘Yet you still want to fly planes – even when you know what the chances of being shot down and killed are?’
The lines between his eyebrows deepened and he studied her thoughtfully. Then his lips curved into a smile. ‘You really are quite something. D’you know, you’re the first person to come right out with that question? No one talks to us pilots about dying. Everyone prefers to pretend it’s not going to happen – or refuses to acknowledge it when it does. When we come into dinner after a sortie and there’s an empty chair at the table, no one says anything. We have to keep up the pretence that we’re having the best time of our lives – and in a way we are. When you’re up there, you don’t have time to feel fear, but when you get back, or when you’re on standby, that’s when it kicks in. We know death is always a possibility but we choose not to dwell on it. If we did, we would become cautious and if any thing’s going to kill you, that will.’
‘Aleksy tells me that his squadron always toast the dead and missing before dinner,’ she said softly, ‘but then we Poles have had longer to live with death. He always wanted to be a pilot, too. But not Piotr. He preferred the cavalry. He said it was safer to keep his feet on the ground.’
Thinking of Piotr brought the familiar ache of longing, but it wasn’t as intense
as before. She couldn’t shake the feeling that it was only her love that would keep Piotr safe, yet she was here with another man, a man she enjoyed looking at and talking to. She shivered as foreboding washed over her.
She sat up and hugged her knees. ‘We should go.’
Richard reached out and turned her face towards him with a fingertip. ‘Now I’ve made you sad again.’
‘I’m tired of feeling sad all the time.’ She tried to smile. ‘It doesn’t make me a very good person, does it?’
Richard pulled her back down. ‘You have nothing to feel guilty about. Your fiancé wouldn’t mind, you know. If anything happened to me and I left a girl behind I’d want her to find happiness any way she could.’
Piotr had said the very same thing to her that last night. ‘Perhaps he’s looking for me now.’
