‘Millie—’
‘And then I keep thinking that he must have been in pain,’ she carried on, the words falling over themselves to get out. ‘Silly, isn’t it? Of course it was a horrible way to die, but I’ve comforted myself that perhaps he knew nothing about it, that at least it was quick …’ She drummed restlessly on her knee with her fingers, too agitated to stay still. ‘But now I don’t know, do I? Now I’ve seen how much the human body can endure and still go on living, it makes me afraid that perhaps Seb suffered too …’
‘Millie, don’t. You can’t torture yourself by thinking like that.’ William’s hand closed over hers, stilling her restless tapping.
‘I know, but I can’t help it. That’s why I fainted, you see. I tried to cope with it, but in the end I couldn’t even look at him. So silly of me really.’
‘Not silly at all,’ William said. ‘Anyone would have reacted in the same way.’
‘No, they wouldn’t. Miss Wallace didn’t flinch and neither did Grace. And she hasn’t had any of my training.’
‘Yes, but they haven’t been through what you have.’
‘That’s not the point. The point is, I shouldn’t have fallen to pieces like that. I’m supposed to be a professional nurse. I’m trained not to let this kind of situation get to me.’
‘You’re also a human being,’ he reminded her. ‘Don’t be so hard on yourself.’
She heard what he was saying, but somehow couldn’t allow herself to take in his words.
‘I shouldn’t have run away,’ she said. ‘I should have stayed strong, not let my feelings get in the way …’
‘Your compassion isn’t weakness, Millie. It’s one of the things that make you such a good nurse.’
‘But that man didn’t need my compassion. He needed my skill and my care, and I was too weak and foolish to help him.’
‘That’s because you were in shock. You’ll do better next time.’
‘I don’t think there’s going to be a next time.’
Without thinking, she handed William her cigarette. He took a long drag on it.
‘You mean to say you’re not going back?’ he said.
‘I don’t think Miss Wallace would want me anyway.’
‘Don’t be absurd. Of course she wants you. You’re an excellent nurse.’
She turned on him. ‘How can you say that, after what I’ve just told you? I’m a failure, and that’s all there is to it.’
‘The only way you can fail is if you give up completely.’ He handed the cigarette back to her. ‘Think about it, Mil. You made one mistake. Everyone makes them. The secret is not to allow them to get the better of you.’
She was silent, taking in what he’d said. ‘I would miss it,’ she admitted.
‘And you would be missed, I’m sure.’
‘Do you think so?’ She looked at him. ‘Do you really think I’m a good nurse?’
‘One of the best,’ said William.
Their eyes met and she felt a sudden, alarming jolt of attraction, a treacherous feeling she hadn’t experienced in a long time. It suddenly occurred to Millie that they’d been sitting alone in the woods, sharing a cigarette and holding hands, almost like lovers. It would be too easy, she thought. Far, far too easy.
She stood up quickly, stubbing out her cigarette. ‘I’d better be going anyway,’ she said, suddenly brisk. ‘Thank you for the pep talk.’
William looked up at her, and once again she found herself lost in his fathomless dark eyes. ‘That’s what friends are for,’ he said softly.
Chapter Thirty-One
KIT WAS DRUNK.
The others had gone back to the base a long time ago, but he’d stayed after hours with the pub landlady. Not his usual type – she was thirty if she was a day, and hardly refined with her bleached blonde hair and dirty laugh – but she was up for some fun and that was what he needed. Especially after he’d wasted so much time on Effie O’Hara.
Oh, Effie. It was a pity, because he’d had such high hopes for her. She looked so wild and wanton, with that mane of dark curls. He’d seen a bit of naughtiness in those blue eyes, a reckless, impulsive side that he’d thought was like his own. But once it came down to business, she had turned out to be nothing more than a nice little convent girl, too terrified to let herself go. It was all very disappointing.
He paused for a moment, scanning the lane ahead of him. Was this the right way back to Billinghurst Manor? He was so bloody drunk, he had no idea. The only light was from the full moon high above him. A bomber’s moon, as they called it.
Not that he was in any fit state to go up in a plane tonight! He laughed to himself as he weaved up the lane, crashing into bushes on either side.
Perhaps he should go back to the pub and ask to stay the night? He was sure the landlady would welcome him back into her bed. He struggled to remember the woman’s name. Edna … Evelyn … No, it was gone. He couldn’t remember anything except the way she’d writhed under him. Her husband was in the army and she missed the company, she said. That wasn’t all she missed, he thought when she was wrapped around him up against the bar, urging him into her. He was looking forward to seeing her again. He wondered if he should book a hotel, perhaps the same B & B he’d taken Effie to. She’d be impressed by that, the silly little tart. But then again, why waste his money when he could get it for free anyway?
His thoughts strayed back to Effie. It was such a shame she’d let him down. He would have loved to see her naked, sprawled out on that double bed, her dark hair spread over the pillow …
There was a rustle in the trees to his left. Kit stopped to listen. Nothing. Probably just his imagination playing tricks on him. That or the copious amount of whisky he’d had.
Lord, he was drunk! He’d pay for it tomorrow, he thought. What a hangover he’d have!
Glenys … Gloria … No, he still couldn’t remember her name. But what did it really matter?
He looked sharply to his left. There was the sound again. A fox, he thought, or rabbits. Except he’d never met a rabbit who wore heavy boots …
‘Who is it? Who’s there?’ He called out into the darkness. ‘Max, Harry is that you? Very funny, I’m sure. If you think you can scare me creeping about in the –’
He slammed straight into the figure that stepped out into the road in front of him.
‘Scare you?’ a deep Irish voice said. ‘Oh, fella, I haven’t even started.’
Kit straightened up and nearly fell off balance.
Connor towered over him. Outlined against the moonlight, he seemed even more dark and menacing. If Kit was sober, he might have had the sense to be scared, but the whisky lent him a bit of bravado.
‘Oh, it’s you,’ he said. ‘What do you want?’
‘A little bird told me you’ve been sniffing round the landlord’s missus tonight?’
Kit grinned. ‘Watching me, were you? You really ought to find a girl of your own, then you wouldn’t have to spy on me. Oh, wait, I forgot. She doesn’t want you, does she?’
That got him. Kit couldn’t see the look on Cleary’s face, but his silence spoke volumes.
‘It isn’t like that,’ he bit out.
‘Oh, no, of course it isn’t. You just want to protect her, don’t you?’ Then Kit recklessly added, ‘It’s a shame. You don’t know what you’re missing …’
He didn’t get to the end of his sentence before he felt himself lifted through the air. The next minute he was pinned to a tree trunk, his legs jerking uselessly, scrabbling to find the ground beneath his dangling feet.
‘I could kill you and bury you right here, and no one would know,’ Connor growled.
He was mad enough to do it, too. Even in the pitch-blackness, Kit could hear the threat in his voice.
Connor’s grip tightened and Kit reached up, trying to claw the Irishman’s hands away from his crushed windpipe. ‘I don’t think Effie would like that, do you?’ he managed to gasp.
It worked. Connor released him abruptly. Kit s
tumbled to the ground, gulping in air.
‘What happened?’ Connor demanded.
‘What?’ Kit ran his finger around his collar to loosen it. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘You know. What happened – when you went away?’
It pained him even to say the words, Kit could tell. He smiled. So Effie hadn’t told him the truth? This could be fun, he thought.
‘Wouldn’t you like to know?’ he taunted him.
‘That’s why I’m asking you.’
Kit heard the ragged note in the Irishman’s voice. It mattered so much to him, poor swine. Kit almost felt sorry for him.
Almost.
‘Use your imagination,’ he taunted. ‘Although I daresay you already have, haven’t you? I expect he thought of me making love to her is probably haunting your dreams every night …’
Connor winced. ‘Don’t push it,’ he warned.
‘Or what? What will you do, old man? Use your fists? I can’t imagine Effie would be impressed by that, can you? She’d probably hate you even more, if that were possible.’
‘Shut up,’ Connor warned.
‘What’s the matter? Bit too close to the truth for you?’ Kit laughed. ‘It must kill you, to watch us together. Knowing you’ll never have her.’
‘I don’t want her.’
Kit laughed. ‘Now we both know that’s not true. You watch her like a slavering dog. I’m surprised Effie hasn’t realised it. But then, she’s such an innocent, isn’t she? Or she was,’ he added, twisting the knife.
‘I want you to promise that you won’t hurt her,’ Connor said gruffly.
‘I don’t think that’s any of your business, do you?’
‘I care about her.’
‘Well, guess what? She doesn’t care about you. Not a damn. And you can’t make her care, even if you threaten me till Kingdom Come.’ Kit circled him, enjoying his pain. ‘And do you know why she doesn’t care? Because you’re just an ignorant farmer’s boy. Why do you think she ran away from Ireland, if not to get away from the likes of you?’
‘Don’t.’ Connor’s voice was low and threatening.
‘I thought you wanted the truth?’ Kit said. ‘All right, I’ll give you it, shall I? What do you want to know first? Do you want me to tell you how soft her skin was, or how her hair smelled of lavender? Or do you want me to tell you how she moaned my name in ecstasy when I took her—’
The fist came hurtling out of nowhere. Kit felt his jaw crack and the next second he was flying backwards. He slammed into the ground and lay there, winded.
Connor towered over him. ‘Just don’t hurt her,’ he warned.
He strode off into the night, leaving Kit sprawled on the ground.
‘You bastard!’ he roared with rage, but Connor was already gone. ‘I hope that made you feel better, because it’s all you’ll ever have,’ Kit shouted after him. ‘I’m the one Effie wants, not you!’
He nursed his jaw. It was already beginning to swell.
Hatred for Connor consumed him. Ignorant, uneducated oaf! Kit should have struck back, knocked him flat.
But even as he thought it, he knew that he was no match for Connor. Not physically, at least.
He got to his feet. There was more than one way to hurt a man like Connor Cleary. And Kit knew just the way to get to him.
Chapter Thirty-Two
‘HELLO, STRANGER. REMEMBER me?’ Pearl stuck her head round the back door. It was a Sunday afternoon, and Grace had the day off.
She looked over from where she stood by the stove, melting chocolate in a pan. ‘Come off it, it’s only been a couple of days since I last saw you!’
‘More like a week. Come to think of it, I hardly see you any more since you started working at that hospital. And I’ve got no one to have a laugh with at the WVS.’
‘Well, I’m here now, and the kettle’s just boiled. You’ve got time for a cuppa?’ Grace put down her wooden spoon and wiped her hands on her apron.
‘I was hoping you’d say that.’ Pearl came in and sniffed the air appreciatively. ‘Something smells nice. What are you baking?’
‘It’s a birthday cake for Max. I’ve just taken it out of the oven.’
‘Max, eh?’ Pearl raised her eyebrows.
‘I felt sorry for him,’ Grace said. ‘It can’t be nice, can it, being so far away from your family on your birthday? I’d like to think someone somewhere might look after our Albie on his.’
Pearl dipped the tip of her finger into the chocolate mixture on the stove. ‘This is nice. Is it for the icing?’
Grace nodded. ‘I wanted to make ordinary icing, but you can’t get sugar for love nor money.’ She poured the boiling water on to the leaves in the pot and gave it a stir.
‘I didn’t think you could get chocolate, either?’
‘Max brought it for us. He seems to be able to lay his hands on anything through that PX store of his.’
‘Max is quite one of the family these days, isn’t he?’ Pearl remarked, sitting down at the table.
‘He comes round for his tea most nights.’
‘You shouldn’t be such a good cook.’
Grace smiled. ‘It’s Daisy he comes for, not my cooking. Anyway, I don’t mind. He makes himself useful. He’s fixed that leak in the roof we’ve had all winter, and he’s done some other jobs.’
‘Handy to have a man about the house, eh?’
‘Isn’t it?’ Grace had never had anyone she could rely on before. For as long as she could remember she’d been the one up a ladder, painting or hammering or replacing loose roof tiles. She’d taught herself to do everything from decorating to plumbing, and she took pride in it. But it was a relief to be able to hand the toughest jobs over to someone else.
And it wasn’t just that Max was useful around the house. He’d fitted right into the family, too. Walter and Ann adored him, and he was endlessly patient with them. Grace had become so used to having him around, she missed him on the nights he didn’t call.
She poured out the tea, set a cup in front of Pearl and went back to her mixing. ‘Come on, then. What’s the news?’
‘That’s partly what I’ve come to tell you. They’re having a Valentine’s Day dance at the village hall, to raise funds for the prisoners-of-war. Mrs Huntley-Osborne’s idea, of course.’
‘Of course,’ Grace agreed. ‘She never stops, does she?’
‘Anyway, she wanted me to let you know she’s put us both on the refreshments sub-committee.’
‘Has she now? Nice of her to ask me,’ Grace said dryly.
‘Oh, you know Mrs Huntley-Osborne. She never asks, always tells.’
‘It’ll make a nice change, I suppose. I expect Daisy will be pleased that there’s a dance.’ Grace went and fetched the cake from where it was cooling on the windowsill.
‘That smells like heaven,’ Pearl said, breathing in the spicy aroma.
‘It’s not much. I couldn’t get hold of any mixed peel and there was hardly any sugar, so I don’t know what it will taste like.’
‘You never know, you might be making a wedding cake soon,’ Pearl commented. ‘For your Daisy and Max,’ she said, when Grace looked blank.
‘Oh, I don’t know about that …’ She spooned the chocolate carefully on top of the cake, but for some reason her hand was shaking so much, she barely had time to catch it with the edge of her knife as it spilled down the sides.
‘Well, you never know, do you? If he’s as keen as he seems … What’s up?’ Pearl asked with a frown. ‘Have I put my foot in it?’
‘Not at all,’ Grace said. ‘It just came as a shock to think that our Daisy could be getting married. The kids are growing up so fast, I don’t know where the time’s gone.’
‘It can’t go fast enough for me!’ Pearl said with feeling. ‘I can’t wait for my little beggars to grow up, so I can get them off my hands!’
‘I’ve looked after my lot for so long, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself,’ Grace admitted with a rueful smile.
‘You could find a nice young man and think about having kids of your own,’ Pearl suggested. ‘I bet Daisy’s airman could find a friend for you?’
Grace blushed. ‘Get away with you! Who’d look at me?’
‘Why not? You’re a pretty girl, Grace Maynard. You just need to believe in yourself a bit more. It wouldn’t hurt to get a bit of your sister’s self-confidence.’
‘I’ll ask her if she can spare any!’ Grace laughed.
She thought about it later as they all sat around the table, tucking into Max’s birthday spread. As well as the cake, she’d made jelly with mock cream, and cucumber sandwiches, liberally covered in salt and pepper to disguise the taste of the margarine.
Pearl was right, the children were all growing up. Even Ann was no longer a baby. She was only a couple of years younger than Grace was when she’d taken over looking after the family.
She turned to look at Daisy and Max. Was Pearl right about that, too? she wondered. Would they end up getting married? She tried to think about her little sister as a bride, being carried over the threshold in Max’s strong arms, and suddenly an overwhelming feeling of sadness hit her.
‘Time for the cake,’ Daisy said, breaking the spell.
‘I’ll fetch a knife.’ Grace blundered to her feet, glad of the chance to get away. The room had suddenly become stiflingly hot.
As she handed the knife to Max, their fingers brushed and a jolt of electricity shot up her arm. Grace snatched her hand away and the knife clattered to the floor.
‘Honestly, Grace, what’s the matter with you?’ Daisy tutted. ‘You’re as jumpy as a cat.’
‘Sorry.’ She pulled herself together. It was a mad moment, that was all. Nothing more than that.
She stood at the back of the room, trying to gather herself, as Max went about cutting his cake.
‘Make a wish!’ Walter and Ann shouted in unison.
Max’s gaze sought out Grace at the back of the room. His eyes were quizzical, as if searching hers for the answer to an unspoken question. Grace could only stare back, struck dumb by an emotion she couldn’t even name if she tried.
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