Alone Beneath The Heaven

by Bradshaw, Rita

  He placed her gently on one of the small sofas which dotted the room, and would have straightened, but Sarah clung to him, and so he knelt down at her side. And then, as her face lifted to his, it seemed the most natural thing in the world to kiss her, and Sarah, all her defences down, kissed him back.

  Rodney hadn’t expected it; the impulse which had led him to press his lips to hers had been as compelling as drawing his next breath and just as impossible to resist. But as he felt her soft moist lips, salty from her tears, strain against his, he crushed her to him. Then it was her very defencelessness that enabled him to lift his head and say shakily, ‘He . . . he didn’t hurt you?’

  Sarah knew what he meant, and although still unable to speak shook her head quickly as she began to shudder and shake with reaction.

  No, he hadn’t hurt her, but he would have done, she thought with sick horror. She had seen the lascivious intent in his eyes as he had bent over her, his hands gripping the front of her nightdress and his breath foul on her face. And she had been helpless, so helpless . . .

  ‘Brandy.’

  Rodney looked about him as though a brandy glass was going to materialize out of thin air, and Florrie and Maggie, who had followed him into the room while Rebecca phoned the police and Hilda took the weeping Eileen into the kitchen, moved forward from where they had frozen near the door when he had kissed Sarah.

  ‘It’ll be over here I should think, lad. Look, what’s this?’ Florrie lifted up the sloping top of what looked like a bureau to reveal a vast collection of glasses and bottles, and quickly poured hefty measures of brandy into two glasses, passing them both to Rodney as she said, ‘You get one down you an’ all, you look like you need it as much as her.’

  He placed his own on the floor before lifting the other to Sarah’s lips, but she took it from him, managing a weak smile as she said, ‘It’s all right, I can do it. It was just - just the shock of seeing him leaning over me like that.’

  They were all, each one of them, talking to hide their embarrassment, but with the kiss in mind it was Maggie, ever tactful, who said to Florrie, ‘Come on then, lass, we’ll make a cup of tea an’ leave these two alone for a bit,’ her voice heavy with meaning. Florrie shut her eyes for a brief second before opening them and nodding, and then she almost pushed Maggie out of the room before she could say anything more.

  ‘Better?’ Rodney took the empty brandy glass from Sarah as the door shut behind the two women, his voice tender, and she nodded without speaking, her eyes tight on his face.

  ‘Sarah -’ He paused, his face working, before he said, ‘When I saw him - I can’t tell you . . .’

  She had never seen him like this, Sarah thought with a separate part of her brain which was still wondering if this was all a dream. His shirt had almost been torn off his back in the fight with Sir Geoffrey and it was hanging open either side of his chest, his dark body hair damp with sweat. He was as unlike the calm, controlled Dr Mallard of daylight hours as it was possible to imagine, and a hundred times more attractive.

  His thumbs had begun a slow stroking motion over the palms of her hands, and he was still crouched down at the side of her, his brandy untouched. Rodney didn’t know if he was being unfair, but he did know he would never have another opportunity like this again, and the way she had clung to him, her response to his kiss, gave him the courage to go on. And there was only one way to say it.

  ‘I love you, Sarah, I think I’ve always loved you. In the beginning, even as a child, you were special, but since we’ve met again you’ve become my sun, moon and stars - everything. I eat you, breathe you, sleep you.’

  She stared at him, her eyelids blinking rapidly. She had dreamt this moment a hundred, a thousand times, but it was far far sweeter than she could ever have envisaged.

  ‘I don’t know if you can ever see me as anything more than a friend, but if you need time, I can wait—’

  His voice stopped as she lifted her hand and placed it on his lips. ‘Don’t you know? Don’t you know how much I love you?’ she asked softly.

  He was absolutely still for one moment, and then he rose, lifting her again so that he could sit down with her on his lap and kiss her in the way he had wanted to do for weeks and weeks. She was soft and warm and yielding, intoxicating, as he had always known she would be for the man she loved, and it was him . . . it was him.

  ‘I’ve been waiting all my life for you, do you know that?’ He raised his head, seeing her closed eyes and her hair streaming over his arm, before she stirred and looked at him. ‘You’ll marry me? You’ll be my wife?’

  ‘Yes, yes.’

  There would have to be explanations, she knew that, but they had all the time in the world to talk and clear up any misunderstandings. He loved her. He did, he did - he loved her. What else was important compared to that? He was hers, and she would never be alone again. He loved her.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  ‘You look bonny, lass, right bonny.’

  Maggie’s voice was thick with emotion as her wrinkled hands adjusted Sarah’s veil, and Florrie nodded at the side of her as she echoed, ‘Right bonny.’

  And Sarah, staring mistily back at her reflection in the tall ornate mirror in Lady Margaret’s own bedroom, which her friend had insisted she use for her wedding day, could hardly believe the fairy-tale girl in the glass was really her.

  She had chosen the wedding dress of her dreams, an off-the-shoulder white satin gown that was sewn with tiny seed pearls and rosebuds of gold lace. Her glossy curls, caught high on the top of her head, were scattered with the same pearls and rosebuds as the dress, and her veil was a froth of several layers of chiffon, edged with gold. She wore no jewellery except Rodney’s engagement ring - a delicate star of glittering diamonds that had been on her hand for only three months.

  It was Rebecca, seated on Lady Margaret’s bed with a wide-eyed Lucy-Ann in her arms, who remarked on this very fact as she said, ‘I can understand why he was so impatient, Sarah. I’ve never seen such a beautiful bride.’

  ‘Go on with you.’ Sarah flapped her hand at Rebecca as she turned, her eyes bright, and then said, ‘You look pretty good yourself if it comes to that.’

  As matron of honour and Sarah’s only bridesmaid, Rebecca was dressed in a dark gold satin that went well with her brown hair and eyes, and the two women had had great fun in designing a matching dress and bonnet for little Lucy-Ann.

  But Sarah knew, as she turned back to the mirror and again gazed wonderingly at the ethereal vision looking back at her, that she would have looked beautiful to Rodney whatever she wore. He never tired of telling her, over and over again, that she was the most beautiful woman in the world and how much he loved her, and any doubts she may have had with regard to his relationship with Vanessa had long since gone.

  He had been so furious, the day after Sir Geoffrey’s attack, when she had told him about the incident in the tearooms with Richard’s wife, and what Vanessa had said. In fact she was sure, but for the fact that Richard had told them Vanessa was away on the continent somewhere with Lord Simmons and a party of his friends, that Rodney wouldn’t have been able to keep his hands off his beautiful sister-in-law’s throat!

  But she hadn’t cared about Vanessa’s lies and manipulative mischief-making, not since that first kiss when she had been lying in his arms on the sofa in Lady Harris’s drawing room. It had told her all she ever wanted to know . . .

  ‘We’ll wait downstairs with Lady Margaret and Rodney’s uncle now you’re nearly ready, lass. Rebecca can fiddle some more with this veil.’

  As Maggie spoke, Florrie took Lucy-Ann, who immediately smiled up into Florrie’s long ugly face with a toothless grin to which Florrie responded with a tender smile that was lovely to see.

  ‘She’s very good with Lucy-Ann.’ Rebecca smiled at Sarah as she slid off the bed and walked over to her, as the door closed behind the two old women. ‘Who would have thought the Mother Shawe of our childhood would be so besotted with one small bai
rn?’ she added, as she fluffed out the clouds of white chiffon with deft hands.

  ‘Who indeed.’ Sarah smiled back at her in the mirror, her eyes soft as she gazed at this friend of hers who had endured so much, and who had at last come into a safe tranquil harbour. ‘But who wouldn’t be; she has to be the most gorgeous baby in all the world, Rebecca.’

  ‘You won’t get any argument from me.’ And then, as the bell rang downstairs, and Lady Margaret’s voice could be heard calling, ‘Sarah, Sarah,’ Rebecca said, ‘Looks like the cars are here. This is it then.’

  The two girls looked at each other for a moment, the one, small and brown-haired and dressed in gold, the other a vision in clouds of white, and suddenly the years fell away and they were two children again, the love they had felt for each other when it was the two of them against the world clear in their eyes. Careless of her finery Sarah pulled Rebecca to her, and the two exchanged a long hug before Rebecca said, her voice choked, ‘Come on, come on you, you’ll have us both blubbing and there’s you all done up like a dog’s dinner.’

  ‘We’ve had some good times, haven’t we, Rebecca?’

  ‘Aye, we have, and we’ll have some more an’ all.’

  ‘I do love you, you know.’

  ‘Aye, and I love you, you daft thing.’

  Rodney’s uncle, who was giving Sarah away, was waiting in the hall with Lady Margaret as Sarah descended the stairs with Rebecca behind her holding the train of her dress, and as she reached the hall he moved forward, taking her hand as he said, ‘He won’t be able to take his eyes off you, my dear. You look quite exquisite. Doesn’t she, Margaret?’

  ‘Wonderful.’ Lady Margaret’s eyes were moist as she repeated, ‘Wonderful,’ before she turned to Rebecca and said, ‘Come on then, the others are already in the car so we’d better join them. You are supposed to get to the church before the bride.’

  Once they were alone in the hall, as they waited for the first car to drive off, Henry Mallard looked down at her again as he said, ‘I’ve never seen Rodney so happy as he has been these last three months, Sarah. He adores you; you know that, don’t you?’

  Sarah nodded, too full at that moment to speak. She was lucky, she was so so lucky.

  ‘Mind you, we all do. I can’t believe we’ve only known you a few months, it seems as though you have always been a part of the family.’

  She had grown to like and respect this man and his wife who had taken her to their hearts since she had first been introduced to them, and now she found her voice, dimpling up at him as she smiled and said, ‘Thanks - Dad,’ in teasing recognition of the duty he was about to perform.

  ‘It would be an honour if I were, my dear, an honour.’

  Oh, people could be so nice.

  The small medieval church in Windsor was packed full with Rodney’s relations and friends, as well as a small contingent of her friends and old work colleagues from Sunderland, and the perfume from the cascade upon cascade of flowers lining the walls from floor to ceiling was rich and heavy in the beautiful old building.

  Sarah was vitally aware of the tall dark man standing so straight and still at the end of the aisle as she began to walk towards her new life, and of Richard, as best man, at the side of him, but the rest of the smiling figures lining the pews either side were a blur. She kept her eyes on the back of Rodney’s head, and then, when she reached him and he turned to look at her, his eyes moving wonderingly over her face, she found she was grinning like a Cheshire cat.

  They emerged from the church in a peal of bells and confetti, the warm sunshine of the bright September day turning everything golden. Everyone had cried - Maggie, Florrie, little Peggy who was there with her Michael, even Lady Margaret, and it was the latter who now dabbed away at her eyes under the enormous navy hat she was wearing as she declared, ‘I never cry normally. Really, I don’t.’

  ‘I think you are allowed to today.’

  It had been the first time Richard had spoken, beyond the requisite words in the ceremony. Sarah knew an occasion like this would be an enormous trial for Rodney’s brother, and he had only recently endured yet another painful skin graft which was still red and angry, but Lady Margaret laughed back at him, as though he was the most handsome man in the world, as she said, ‘Well, if I have your permission, that will do.’

  It was the first time they had met, and normally Lady Margaret was very reticent with strangers, but of course it was a wedding . . .

  ‘Happy, my darling?’

  Rodney’s arm tightened round her waist as he looked down at her, the photographer calling for yet another photograph, and she smiled up at him as she whispered, ‘More than you could ever imagine.’

  And she was, she was, so very happy, but . . . There was just one person missing from the day. Still, she would have photographs. She smiled into the camera, her face betraying none of her thoughts. Yes, she would have photographs, and one day she would show them to her mother . . . if she wanted to see them.

  Part Three

  Coming Home: 1952

  Chapter Twenty-four

  It was Sarah’s fourth wedding anniversary, and as she sat at the heavy oak kitchen table sipping a mid-morning cup of coffee, her thoughts were not on the pile of cards the post had brought, but the two letters she had read and re-read several times since eight that morning, and which had affected her quite differently.

  Her eyes roamed over the wide expanse of landscaped garden leading down to a border of trees and a stream, but she wasn’t really seeing the grounds at the back of the large detached house, much as she loved them. The first letter, from Lady Margaret, or Margaret as she now addressed this dear friend of hers, had brought news that she had been hoping for for months, if not years. She and Richard were to be married, Margaret had written in her beautiful flowing script, and they were thinking of a Christmas wedding. Would Sarah and Rodney like to spend the holiday with them as they did so want them to share this happy time. The children were overjoyed, William was to be Richard’s best man, and Constance her bridesmaid. That letter was one of pure joy.

  The second . . . The second had brought apprehension, mixed with mild panic and reluctant hope. Her heart began to thud again, and she stroked the swollen mound of her stomach wherein her first child lay, the voice in her head stern as it said, Steady, lass, steady, much as Maggie might have done. This could be something or nothing, as well she knew, having been down the same road several times in the last three years since she and Rodney had returned to Sunderland to live.

  Rodney had said much the same thing that morning before he had left for the surgery, after kissing her in the manner that still had the power to take her breath away. ‘I don’t want you getting your hopes up again only to be disappointed, Sarah, so we’ll think some more tonight before we commit ourselves to anything, all right? By all means give Margaret a ring, tell them we’ll have a bridesmaid or a page boy available in a year or two if they want to delay a bit, but otherwise we’ll be down for Christmas.’

  ‘Oh you . . .’ She had pushed at him with the palm of her hand, laughing up into his face as she had said, ‘You’re a fine one to talk about delaying things. Three months was your limit before you galloped me up the aisle.’

  ‘I couldn’t help it if I was so madly in love with my fiancée that I couldn’t wait.’ He had grinned at her, patting the compact little protrusion as he’d added, ‘I’d have married you the week after you’d said yes if I could.’

  ‘Maggie and Florrie would have killed you if you’d done them out of a big white wedding for their “lass”.’

  ‘I don’t doubt it. It was only that which restrained my hand but it was hard going. Talking of which, I miss you like hell at the surgery. Rodney junior has a lot to answer for.’

  ‘It might be a girl.’

  ‘Ah, that’s different. I couldn’t blame a little Sarah for anything.’

  As Sarah replayed the scene in her mind she found herself smiling, and she stretched like a plump little cat
in the warmth of the September sunshine streaming in through the kitchen window. She was lucky, she was so so lucky, and if this latest lead didn’t come to anything, that was what she had to remember.

  When they had decided to move back to Sunderland over three years ago, she had known she wanted to be part of the practice Rodney had had the chance of partnering. It was a large practice, right in the very middle of the worst part of town, and always desperately busy. The partner Rodney was to replace had not been in favour of the national health service which had come into being the previous July just before they had got married, and the other two doctors, whose vision for the future had exactly matched Rodney’s, had been very keen for him to join them.

  Within weeks of their arrival, Sarah had recognized the need for an informal baby clinic, somewhere where young, and not so young, mothers could come regularly for an afternoon’s escape from their home and often dire circumstances, and shortly after she had set that up, and as a natural progression, had come an emergency call line for families with problems and new mothers at the end of their tether.