A Strong Hand to Hold

by Anne Bennett

  ‘It’s what Sam heard,’ Sarah said. ‘I don’t know what happened. I haven’t seen Linda myself for some time.’

  ‘I must know,’ Max said. ‘I must see her.’

  ‘Do you think that’s wise?’ Sam said. ‘If she didn’t write back, she was perhaps trying to tell you that that part of her life was over. Maybe she doesn’t still feel the same about you.’

  ‘Maybe she doesn’t, but I have to know from her lips,’ Max said. ‘Oh, I have nothing to offer her at the moment. I just want to know that she’ll wait for me. When I have much money and a fine house, I will send for her if she will have me.’

  He leapt to his feet again and began to pace the room afresh. ‘I must see her,’ he said. ‘I purposely broke my journey to come here and I’ll not go until I see her with my own eyes.’ Sam and Sarah’s eyes met. They didn’t know whether that was a good idea or not, but it seemed clear that Max would not be dissuaded.

  Jenny was alone in the house, sorting out the things she and Linda were to take with them and those they could leave behind, when the doorbell rang. She opened the door to find a stranger on the doorstep. He wore a threadbare overcoat and his shoes, she noticed, were well worn, his trousers thin and shapeless. He was the picture of faded respectability, but not so very different from most of the post-war people about, really. His face was a handsome one, the chin chiselled and firm and the tawny-coloured eyes penetrating, but his cheeks were hollowed out and his face thin almost to gauntness, as if he’d not had enough to eat, or perhaps suffered greatly. There were many penniless, or almost penniless, refugees in Britain at that time, so Jenny asked gently. ‘Can I help you?’

  The man clicked his heels together at her words, gave a small bow and said, ‘I wish to see Linda Lennox. My name is Max Schulz.’

  Max Schulz! The name burned into her brain. The German POW who’d written to Linda not once, but many times! She wondered what the hell he was doing in England. She was glad she was the only one home; she’d have hated Francesca and her family to think they had German friends. She was also glad Linda was away and safe from this man. ‘Linda’s not here,’ she said.

  ‘She has left?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘But where is she? I must see her,’ Max said.

  ‘I’m afraid I don’t know.’

  ‘What do you mean you don’t know?’ the man cried. ‘Did she give you no word, no address?’

  ‘No. No she didn’t,’ Jenny said. ‘Now if you’d excuse me, I’m rather busy.’ She moved as if to close the door, but Max was too quick for her and his foot shot out.

  He looked into Jenny’s eyes and said, ‘Are you the one Linda calls Jenny?’

  Jenny was taken aback. ‘Well, yes.’

  ‘Then,’ said Max, ‘you are lying to me. Linda would never, ever go away without letting you know where she went.’

  ‘She did! I tell you she did,’ Jenny cried wildly.

  Max shook his head. His smile was maddening. ‘Jenny,’ he said, ‘have you ever been in love?’

  ‘How dare you!’ Jenny said angrily. ‘That’s a very personal question. Don’t you Germans understand even basic good manners?’

  Max ignored the question. Instead he said, ‘I love Linda with all my heart and soul, and I think she loves me. She did once. But I must see her, hear from her own lips how she feels about me, and then I believe it.’

  ‘It’s too late,’ Jenny said, desperately. ‘She’s married.’

  Max shook his head. ‘She was to be married,’ he said. ‘She even showed me the ring, but the marriage did not take place. Please, Jenny, think about what I’ve said. I love Linda more than anything in the world. I’ll never do anything to hurt her. Soon I set sail for America. I want to know that Linda will wait until I can send for her, and then do me the honour of becoming my wife.’

  The sincerity of Max’s words finally got to Jenny and she had to remind herself the man was a German in order to keep the fixed look on her face. ‘I’ll return tomorrow at four-thirty,’ Max said. ‘Maybe then you will tell me where Linda lives,’ and he bowed once more and went back down the path.

  Confused, upset and not at all sure what to do next, Jenny went to Peter’s house as he was the only one who knew of the POW and the only one who knew she’d read and destroyed Max’s letters. Peter led Jenny into the room downstairs that he used as a study, away from his mother’s prying eyes and interference. Mabel had let Jenny in with barely concealed curiosity and had taken herself off to the kitchen as Peter firmly shut the study door. She’d make tea, she decided, and take it in, in a moment or two. It would be a good excuse to catch any snippets of gossip.

  ‘He says – this man, this German – he says he loves Linda,’ Jenny said sitting down in the black leather chair Peter indicated. ‘He says he knows she was to be married. He saw the ring, but he also knows the marriage was cancelled.’

  ‘He did see the ring,’ Peter said sitting in the chair beside her. ‘Linda went up to the farm and he would have seen it.’

  ‘Why did she go?’

  ‘The man was moving out,’ Peter said, and went on with a sigh, ‘you may as well know, when I surprised them in the barn, they were kissing. I mean, really kissing, you know? And the way it was – well, I shouldn’t have thought it was the first time.’

  ‘She can’t love him,’ Jenny declared. ‘Not a German.’

  ‘Of course she can,’ Peter said impatiently. ‘People don’t always love wisely. I know that to my cost.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Peter.’

  ‘Don’t worry about it,’ Peter said, and added, ‘isn’t that what old and valued friends are for?’

  Jenny saw the pain behind his eyes and knew that whatever she told her gran, she couldn’t walk out of Peter’s life until she’d found out how he really felt about her, now she’d had time to examine her own feelings. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I’ve hurt you.’

  ‘No, it’s me,’ Peter said. ‘You can’t pretend what isn’t there.’

  Jenny hesitated and bit on her bottom lip nervously. Peter didn’t know her feelings for him had changed. He didn’t know she was almost sure she loved him, but was scared to say so in case her gran was wrong and Peter’s drunken outburst at the party was just that, something to be regretted in the cold light of day.

  Seeing Jenny’s discomfort, but not knowing the reason for it, Peter said, ‘Sorry, Jenny, I didn’t mean to embarrass you. Look, if you’re worried about what I said the other night, I was a bloody fool. I was drunk and no drunk speaks sense.’

  ‘So you didn’t mean it?’ Jenny cried.

  Peter gave a grim laugh, but it didn’t take the bleak look from his face as he repeated, ‘Like I said, I was drunk.’

  He hadn’t answered the question, so Jenny tried another. ‘Why did you get so drunk, Peter?’

  ‘It was a party, for God’s sake,’ he retorted. ‘People get drunk at parties.’

  ‘But you said you got drunk for a reason,’ Jenny persisted. ‘You said you needed it to give you the courage to tell me something.’

  ‘Don’t analyse it, Jen,’ he said. ‘I told you, I don’t remember.’

  ‘I think you do.’

  ‘What is this?’

  Jenny faced him and said, ‘I need to hear you say those things to me again, now that you’re stone cold sober.’

  ‘Bloody hell, Jenny, are you some kind of sadist?’ Peter cried. ‘You want me to pour out my heart to you so you can kick me in the guts by telling me you just want to be my friend?’

  Jenny reached for Peter’s hands and held them tight between her own and looked into his deep brown eyes and said, ‘Peter, I’ve known you for years. You’ve always been there when I’ve needed you and you’ve become a good friend to me. All that time, I’ve taken you for granted and never thought that you cared for me in any sort of intimate way.’

  ‘You don’t have to go on with this,’ Peter said. He was embarrassed and tried to pull his hands away, but Jenny held on tight.


  ‘I do,’ she insisted. ‘Please listen. I loved Bob and I’ll never pretend otherwise. Had he lived, I wouldn’t be having this conversation with you. But Bob didn’t live. I didn’t think I could ever love another man, but when you kissed me at the party …’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Peter said. ‘That was wrong of me.’

  ‘No, it wasn’t,’ Jenny contradicted. ‘This is what I’m trying to say. I responded to you. I wanted you Peter, like I never thought I would. I mean, I thought feelings like that had died with Bob.’

  ‘I believe you,’ Peter said. ‘God, I felt you respond, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything.’

  ‘How can you say that?’

  ‘Because you are a normal young woman with normal sexual feelings,’ he explained. ‘Just because you enjoyed the kiss and all it engendered doesn’t mean … What I’m saying is, don’t confuse it with love.’

  ‘God, Peter, aren’t you pig-headed?’ Jenny said grinning. She released his hands and leapt to her feet. ‘Do I have to spell it out for you?’ she cried. ‘I love you! I probably have done for ages, but you were so much a part of my life already, I sort of couldn’t see the wood for the trees.’

  Outside the door, Mabel stood with a tray of tea and heard Jenny’s declaration. About bloody time, she thought. Maybe now Peter can do something about getting his life together. She’d seen him moon after Jenny O’Leary for years and, though he’d gone out with other girls, Mabel knew they’d meant nothing to him. She took the tray back to the kitchen guessing that, at that moment, an intrusion wouldn’t be helpful or welcomed.

  Peter had got to his feet too and was staring at Jenny as if he couldn’t believe his ears. ‘You love me?’ he asked incredulously.

  Jenny nodded.

  ‘I mean as a lover? As a husband, not just a friend?’

  Jenny looked into Peter’s eyes. The love she saw shining there brought tears to her own, and any doubts she might have had about the depth of love she felt for Peter dwindled away. She put her arms around his neck and kissed him. Peter did nothing for a second and then his arms encircled her, pulling her to him. She felt her knees feel suddenly weak and her lips opened as Peter’s tongue probed her mouth. When it was eventually over, she leant against him with a groan of desire. ‘Is that answer enough?’ she said, when at last she could speak.

  Peter could only gaze at her with wonder. ‘God, Jenny, I’ve loved you for so long,’ he said hoarsely. ‘I never thought you would be mine.’

  ‘Well, I am. Yours forever.’

  ‘You will marry me?’ Peter said. ‘And just as soon as it can be arranged?’

  ‘Yes, I will. But first there’s Linda and America, and this bloody POW.’

  ‘Oh God,’ Peter cried. ‘I almost forgot all about that. What time is he coming?’

  ‘Half four,’ Jenny said. ‘If I hadn’t already have given in my notice at work, he wouldn’t have found me in today.’ She looked at Peter and said, ‘I don’t want to meet him, Peter.’

  ‘We’ll meet him,’ Peter said. ‘But together,’ and he gave Jenny a kiss and said, ‘Don’t worry, darling, it will be all right. Let’s go and give Mother the good news about us.’

  ‘Will she mind?’

  ‘Mind?’ Peter said. ‘She’ll be delighted. She’s known for ages the only girl I’d ever settle down with was you.’

  Jenny took the hand that Peter held out to her, and her heart almost burst with happiness. She wondered how she’d been so blind for so long.

  TWENTY-SIX

  Peter and Jenny decided to take Max Schulz to Peter’s house to talk to him, for as Jenny said, they could hardly evict the Masters family from their home to entertain a German visitor and it would be totally unsuitable to take him to her bedroom.

  Jenny had had to confess to Peter before the meeting with Max what she’d done with the many letters he had sent to Linda. He was furious. ‘I can’t believe you,’ he’d said, deeply shocked. ‘Especially after the row we had when you destroyed the first one. Please don’t try telling me you did it for Linda’s good.’

  ‘But I did.’

  ‘Don’t kid yourself,’ Peter said roughly. ‘You decided to play God. Max obviously believes Linda got his letters and ignored them. You’ll have to tell him what you did with them.’

  ‘I know.’ Jenny’s voice was a mere whisper.

  Peter sighed. ‘Jenny, you have to accept that Linda is grown-up,’ he said. ‘She has to make her own decisions and her own mistakes. If she’d had the opportunity to write back to this Max, maybe they might have begun a relationship.’ He caught sight of Jenny’s face and snapped, ‘Don’t look like that. The man’s a German, not someone from outer space. Anyway, this whole thing must be Linda’s choice.’ He wondered what the man was like. He’d had just a glimpse, not enough to judge his character, especially as he’d been so angry with Linda at the time, he hadn’t taken that much notice. Anyway, he’d soon see and judge for himself.

  And Peter liked what he saw. His mother was unashamedly curious about the man he introduced as simply Max, a friend of Linda’s. Mabel would have been quite happy to have sat and chatted all day, but Peter cut her off. ‘Mother, I have evening surgery soon,’ he said. ‘And we have things to discuss.’ He ushered both Jenny and Max into the living room and asked them to sit down as he shut the door firmly.

  And there followed the most uncomfortable half-hour of Jenny’s life. Max was just as angry as Peter had been at the destruction of the letters he’d sent Linda. ‘Well, what can you offer her?’ Jenny cried out at last.

  ‘At this moment, nothing,’ Max admitted. ‘But I want Linda to wait for me. I will send for her when I have something to offer.’

  ‘So, you expect her to moulder away here while you make your fortune?’ Jenny said sarcastically.

  Max leapt to his feet. ‘You mock me,’ he said. ‘My Uncle Werner has a factory in New York, which one day will be mine. He says I must start at the bottom and work up. This is what I tell to Linda in my letters,’ he said, glaring at Jenny.

  She had the grace to feel ashamed. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘But really, Linda might not wish to marry you, or anyone. She has the chance of a big audition, a part in a musical. She might not want to give that up for marriage.’

  ‘Why should she have to?’ Max said. ‘I want what Linda wants, because I wish her to be happy. I should be proud if she did this thing.’

  ‘When do you sail?’ Peter asked.

  Max answered, ‘In a week’s time. When Linda didn’t answer my letters, I think I might need a week to convince her that we belong together.’

  ‘Do you love Linda, Max?’

  ‘With all my heart.’

  ‘And does she love you?’

  ‘She does,’ Max said. ‘At least, she did once. This man she was marrying, she was making a mistake. It is good that she realized it before the wedding.’

  ‘She never loved him,’ Jenny said. ‘That I do know. But there were good reasons why she was going to marry him, and even better reasons why she didn’t, but that’s really Linda’s story to tell.’

  Max sat down opposite Jenny and said, ‘Where is she?’

  ‘Basingstoke,’ Jenny answered. ‘She’s visiting an aunt of hers.’ She shook her head at him and said, ‘It’s too late, you see.’

  ‘What’s too late?’

  ‘Max, we sail for America in two days’ time,’ Jenny said. ‘That’s where the audition is. In New York.’

  ‘Mein Gott!’ Max exclaimed, and slapped his forehead with the flat of his hand. Jenny again felt deeply ashamed of what she had done. Linda might not have felt the need to sail to America if she’d known Max was returning to England. Peter was right, whatever she felt personally, Linda should have had the chance of getting to know the young German, who truly seemed to love her dearly. How she wished she could turn back the clock. ‘Oh God,’ she cried. ‘I’m so sorry, but it’s just too late.’

  ‘Not necessarily,’ Peter said. />
  Linda was so excited when she arrived in Southampton that it was only the risk of being run into the local mental home that kept her feet on the floor. Just hours before, she kissed the aunt and uncle she’d got to know well in their week together. Their sons had been self-conscious with their little Brummie cousin at first and then began to enjoy her company.

  She’d been sorry to leave them, but America and all it promised was a great lure. Louis Bradshaw was meeting them in New York and his family were putting them both up till they got the feel of the place. Jenny had spoken to them on the telephone and seemed a little happier. They sounded decent people, she said. Louis told her that when they felt the time was right, he’d find them a nice apartment they could afford.

  It was all so strange and yet exhilarating. Even the opulence of the Metropole Hotel, where she had arranged to meet Jenny, could not dampen down the excitement that flowed through Linda every time she thought about the next day. She crossed the room with a level of confidence she was far from feeling. ‘Linda Lennox,’ she said. ‘We have a reservation in the name of Jenny O’Leary.’

  ‘Ah yes,’ said the man behind the desk, who spoke as if he’d swallowed a bag of marbles. ‘Miss O’Leary has sent a telegram for you.’

  For years telegrams had meant bad news and Linda opened hers with trembling fingers: Unavoidably delayed. STOP. Cannot make hotel. STOP. Meet you on board tomorrow. STOP. See you soon. STOP. Love Jenny. STOP.

  ‘Oh,’ said Linda, feeling lonely and abandoned. She’d been looking forward to seeing Jenny to tell her all about her relations and discussing their plans for the sea voyage and what they intended to do in the great city itself.

  Now all that had gone flat. She gazed into the dining room, hesitant to eat there alone, but she could hardly wander through the streets of an unfamiliar city looking for a chip shop. She sat at a table by the door and felt conspicuous and out of place.

  She didn’t enjoy her dinner much and finished it in record time, and then wondered what to do with herself. Newspapers were provided, so she took one up to her room, but was too excited to read it. She listened to the wireless and wished she’d thought to bring a book. Far too early she went to bed and tossed and turned, wishing Jenny was in the other bed in the room. She wondered what had held her up. It had to be something major, and she hoped it wasn’t anything too dreadful.