Always In My Heart

by Freda Lightfoot

  ‘Not right away,’ she snapped. ‘Let me deal with this dratted divorce first.’

  Brenda stepped forward. ‘I will never say that you stole him. I’ll explain that you were acting as his foster mother, looking after him until I returned home, as has happened with thousands of other children. That will be much easier for him to cope with.’

  Melissa met her gentle stare with a glint of relief in her eyes, perhaps because she still lived in fear of prison. When she left later that day, taking her daughters with her back to London, she did not even say goodbye to the little boy.

  Thirty-Four

  Seeing the car draw up, Brenda ran pell-mell out the door to gather Adèle in her arms. ‘Oh, it’s so wonderful to see you!’ she cried, with tears in her eyes. The dear lady looked a little older and rounder than in those earlier days in Paris, now dressed in a smart suit in her favourite green colour, with a fox-fur stole about her neck and a neat little hat upon her bobbed hair. ‘I’ve been searching for you so long.’

  ‘Me too. I’ve spent years looking for you, dear. Thank God you survived. And how is little Tommy, or Ross, as I believe he is now called, bless him?’

  ‘He’s fine, but hasn’t yet been told the full story of who he really is.’

  Her dark eyes behind gold-rimmed spectacles glimmered with sympathy. ‘I can well understand that. But I’m sure he will accept everything, given time, and once he’s learned more about his brave father.’

  Emma appeared at her side, her lovely face alight with happiness at the sight of her dear friend, and there were more hugs and tears. ‘What a joy it is to see you both again,’ Brenda cried. ‘Mrs Harding is providing us with tea and cakes, and you can meet Hugh. Then I’ll introduce you to Prue and the rest of the family.’

  ‘Will that include his Aunt Melissa?’ Emma whispered, as the three of them walked arm in arm into the house.

  ‘Thankfully, she has left,’ Brenda said with a gentle shake of her head, and began to tell her story. ‘Ah, here is Hugh.’

  He was waiting in the drawing room and warmly welcomed them, helping Mrs Harding serve the delicious sandwiches, cakes and biscuits she’d prepared. They happily chatted for hours. Emma and Brenda recalled some of the fun times they’d spent at the camp, taking part in shows and poetry reading sessions, firmly blocking out all the troubling incidents and the resulting anguish. Emma went on to speak of the years she’d spent helping the children in the OSE, revealing that she’d met a delightful young Frenchman who worked as a teacher.

  ‘We soon became quite attached, and have recently married,’ she told them with a smile.

  ‘Oh, how wonderful!’ Brenda cried with joy in her heart. ‘I’m so glad to hear that. You deserve to find happiness, Emma, after all you’ve done for other people, especially those precious children.’

  ‘I shall be giving birth to one of my own soon,’ Emma said, patting her stomach, and congratulating her in delight Brenda gave her another hug.

  Adèle then began to speak of Camille, and how brave she’d been as her health had slowly deteriorated. ‘She never stopped thinking of you, darling girl, or trying to find you. She wrote to everyone, asking where you were.’

  ‘Sadly, without success,’ Brenda said.

  ‘I’m afraid so, which was the reason she came up with the idea for me to bring Tommy home once she had passed on. She also carefully stitched the proof of your marriage and his birth into the toy monkey, knowing she never did get around to telling Sir Randolph about it, and wanting to be sure that he knew. She was a smart and canny lady, and wonderfully kind and thoughtful. My best friend.’

  Hugh smiled. ‘She was a wonderful mother too. Thank you for being there for her. I’m sure she welcomed your companionship and care in those last months of her life.’

  ‘It was my privilege to help. She will live forever in my heart.’

  ‘Mine too,’ Brenda agreed, and there was a pause as the three of them brought Camille into their minds once more, and raised their tea cups in her memory.

  ‘I have some news about Jack too,’ Adèle said.

  ‘What sort of news?’ Brenda asked.

  ‘He is to be honoured with the French Resistance Medal for bravery.’

  Her face lit up. ‘Really?’

  Hugh beamed. ‘That’s wonderful, and well deserved.’

  ‘It is indeed,’ Adèle agreed. ‘It is given in order to recognise remarkable acts of courage that have helped to maintain the strength of the French against their enemy.’

  ‘Do tell us what he did?’ Emma said. ‘I’d love to hear more about him.’

  ‘So would I,’ Hugh said.

  ‘I don’t know everything he did, as much of it was kept secret, but Jack was very much involved in acts of sabotage,’ Brenda explained. ‘He was keen to make things as difficult as possible for the enemy. The Resistance would divert freight trains to the wrong location, cause derailments by damaging the switches, and cut telephone lines so that German communications were halted.’

  Adèle nodded. ‘Which no doubt put the enemy in greater danger if they received no warning of bombing raids about to be carried out by the Royal Air Force. Later, the Resistance worked closely with the British, passing on messages they’d intercepted. And they’d attack, kidnap or even kill German officers whenever they could.’

  ‘Jack was also involved in blowing up bridges and derailing trains, which is what he was doing when he was killed,’ Brenda softly told them. ‘He was a brave man, and I’m so proud of him.’

  ‘As am I,’ Hugh said, his grey eyes glinting through a cloud of tears as he smiled at her.

  ‘The last thing Camille, your dear mother did before she departed this world, was to write to various military officers and Members of Parliament telling them what her son had done for France, being half French himself. And how she felt his courage deserved to be honoured,’ Adèle explained. ‘I forwarded those letters as soon as the war was over. And fortunately, they agreed. The ceremony is to take place on Saturday, which is another reason why I came.’

  ‘Oh, my goodness, that’s amazing!’ Brenda said, grasping Hugh’s hand in joy. ‘I can hardly believe it. What an honour that will be.’

  *

  Brenda found Ross cycling around the farmyard as he so loved to do, roaring to himself as if he was flying a plane.

  ‘Would you like an ice cream?’ she called, and with a beaming smile he braked, propped the bike against a tree and came running over. Following the departure of Melissa and the girls, he’d asked only once where they were. Brenda had told him that they’d returned home to London but he’d been allowed to stay on here to continue to enjoy a little holiday. Looking into his eyes when she’d said that, Brenda knew he suspected there was more she wasn’t telling.

  They sat together in the summer house enjoying a dish of ice cream, Brenda turning over possible solutions in her head. Having talked things through with Hugh, and not wanting the little boy to feel lost and abandoned, they’d decided the time had come for the two of them to talk. Hugh had promised to join them later, but deciding how much to say still felt like a problem not easy to resolve. ‘Ross, how would you feel about going to the school in Trowbridge village?’

  ‘I go to school in London,’ he said, blinking up at her with a puzzled expression on his face.

  He was a bright little boy who attended a private kindergarten close to his home in the city. But if that had to be changed, wouldn’t he wish to know why? ‘I know, love, but I wondered if you would mind going to the one in the village while you’re staying here.’

  There was a slight pause while he thought about this for a moment. ‘How long will I be here, d’you reckon?’

  Brenda drew in a quiet breath as she smiled at him. ‘It could be quite a while. Is that a problem for you?’

  He gave her a big grin as he shook his head. ‘Nope. Like it here. Like the hens. Like the garden, and my bike. Can I make new friends at this school?’

  ‘You can indeed. Wou
ld you like that too?’

  He briskly nodded.

  ‘Actually, there’s something I think you should know.’ Taking a quick swallow, Brenda clasped her hands on her lap to stay calm, hoping that might help to stop her heart beating too fast. ‘Melissa is actually your aunt, not your mother. She’s acted as a sort of foster mother to you, if you can understand that, and was perhaps a little wary of telling you the truth.’ Brenda had no wish to tell him the truth either, not in its entirety.

  He was staring at her now in open-eyed amazement. ‘Why would she not do that?’ he asked.

  ‘During the war your real mother was stuck in France, arrested just for being British.’

  ‘Like your friend Emma?’

  ‘Yes. So no one knew whether she would survive and come home again, which thankfully she has done.’

  He was looking at her now with wonder in his gaze. ‘Does that mean you are my mum, Bren?’

  Astounded by this, she almost jerked. ‘Yes, I am.’

  Her heart pounded more slowly now as he stared at her. Would this be the moment he’d start crying for Melissa or his dear sisters? Would he fall into one of his tantrums and stamp off? Seconds flicked by that felt like long moments, if not hours. Then reaching up to wrap his arms about her neck, he tucked his head against her shoulder. ‘I’m so glad. Love you.’

  ‘Oh, darling, I love you too,’ and putting her arms about him, Brenda gave him a cuddle.

  ‘Have I got a new Dad too?’ he asked, and she gently told Ross about brave Jack. He sat cuddled beside her with his thumb in his mouth, listening carefully to every word she said. Hugh had come to join them by this time, and he added to the story by talking about his brother when he was a young boy, as lively as Ross.

  ‘He loved the hens and didn’t care for the circus either, wanting all the animals to be free to roam. I remember him once asking the circus ticket man for his money back because he hated to see them so confined, and when he was refused, Jack gave him a real telling off.’

  Ross began to giggle and asked for more stories, which Hugh gladly shared: how Jack loved to play cricket and swim in the river, make bonfires and keep rabbits. ‘We were sorry to see him leave when he went to look after our mother in France.’

  ‘Which was where we got married and happily lived,’ Brenda said. ‘Then when the war started, he joined the French Resistance Movement.’

  ‘Gosh, was he a hero?’ Ross asked, his brown eyes bright with admiration.

  ‘He was indeed. Now he’s about to receive an award for his bravery, so we’re all off to the ceremony on Saturday in London. And as he is no longer with us and you are his son, it will be presented to you.’

  The little boy beamed with pride.

  *

  The ceremony, which took place at the French Embassy, was attended by the entire family: Hugh and Brenda, Prue and Dino. And, of course, Adèle and Emma, neither of whom would have missed it for the world. Emma was accompanied by her handsome French husband, with whom she was clearly very close. Melissa and Gregory were, thankfully, not present, being locked in their personal war of divorce and finance. When Jack Stuart’s name was called, Ross proudly stepped forward to collect his father’s medal.

  ‘What a brave little boy he is,’ Hugh whispered to Brenda as they watched him chat to the French Ambassador.

  ‘He definitely takes after his father,’ she said with a smile. ‘Who will live forever in our hearts.’

  ‘He will indeed, as will Ross, who is very much a part of our family now. And you too, my darling. You are the love of my life,’ he said, giving her a kiss.

  That night, at the hotel where they were staying, Brenda tucked Ross up in bed, together with Minki the monkey, then happily settled into Hugh’s arms on the sofa in the lounge as they began to plan their wedding and future together.

  Copyright

  HQ

  An imprint of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd

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  First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2016

  Copyright © Freda Lightfoot 2016

  Freda Lightfoot asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

  A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

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  Ebook Edition © November 2016 ISBN: 9781474037938