Guarded Passions

by Rosie Harris

  ‘You mean you’re only on leave?’ Helen asked in dismay.

  ‘Sort of.’ He hesitated again, as if unsure whether or not to say more.

  ‘Well, I’m off to bed,’ Aunt Julia announced diplomatically. ‘It’s good to have you safely home, Adam. I’m afraid you’ll have to share Helen’s single bed tonight. Tomorrow we must make some better arrangement.’

  ‘We’ll manage, Aunt Julia,’ Helen assured her. ‘Goodnight.’

  They sat in companionable silence, Adam’s arm around Helen, her head resting against his chest, listening to the creaking of the stairs and the floorboards overhead, until Aunt Julia settled into bed. Then Adam reached out and switched off the lamp on the table beside him.

  Helen waited, feeling as nervous as if she was on her very first date. Her mouth felt dry and her heart was thudding so loudly against her rib cage that she was sure Adam must hear it.

  When he tenderly scooped her up in his arms, laid her on the sheepskin rug in front of the fire’s glowing embers and began to unbutton the front of her dress, she offered no resistance.

  The warmth of his breath on her exposed neck rekindled the desire she had felt earlier in the evening. And when his lips began gently to explore the whole length of her throat, finally coming to rest in the warm hollow between her breasts, she murmured with delight.

  As his fingers fumbled with the fastenings on her dress, she eagerly undid them for him. Her need was as great as his and now her shyness was gone. Eagerly, she unbuttoned his khaki shirt, feeling the heat from his broad chest burning beneath her hands.

  She moaned with ecstasy as his mouth travelled over her naked flesh. The exquisite pleasure as he paused to salute each erect nipple before moving further down her body, sent shudders of sensual excitement flooding through her.

  Her desire increased as Adam grasped her body tightly to his own, flattening the rounded swell of her breasts against his hard chest, firmly prising her legs apart with one of his own. Then his hands slid down her back, cupping her towards him in a firm decisive hold so that their bodies united of their own volition. She could hear her own breath rasping as she matched her rhythm with his powerful strokes and the exhilaration built up to a crescendo of passion that left her gasping. Waves of blackness obliterated even the glowing embers of the fire as Adam rolled from her and collapsed at her side.

  Her happiness was complete when, with supreme effort, he raised himself on one arm and gently kissed her on the mouth.

  Chapter 12

  Adam’s leave flew by. They spent much of it walking in the countryside around Sturbury. The autumn days, though short, were warm and colourful. The trees and hedgerows, an ever-changing panorama of vivid golds, reds, oranges and browns, delighted their eyes and filled Helen’s heart with joy. She felt that sharing the beauty of the glorious landscape with Adam was a way of celebrating that he had been one of the lucky ones who had come through the war unscathed, when so many had been killed or injured.

  Often, when she woke before him, Helen would hear Adam mumbling in his sleep and realise how much the memories of war haunted him. Powerless to help, she would lay cool fingers on his brow, or gently stroke his face, hoping to erase from his mind whatever was troubling him. Although he never spoke of it, she sensed he still mourned the loss of his brother, Gary.

  Even her lightest touch seemed to wake him. She would feel him tense and his eyes would snap open. For a brief second he would lie motionless, like an animal before it springs. Then, as he remembered where he was, he would roll over and gather her close to him.

  Although neither of them could readily express their feelings in words, Helen found their love-making fulfilled all her dreams and expectations. Adam’s infinite tenderness came as a pleasurable revelation. She responded to his every touch, deriving and giving so much pleasure that every moment brought immeasurable joy.

  Their passion remained unabated, their love-making exciting. There was only one cloud that hung over the three weeks Adam was at home and that was his future.

  They talked endlessly about whether or not he should stay in the Army. Helen was against him doing so because she couldn’t bear the thought of separation. Adam argued that since he had no job to come out to, and only limited prospects, it was the most sensible thing to do.

  ‘There are all sorts of schemes available,’ Helen insisted. ‘You could even apply for a university course …’

  ‘I have done and been turned down,’ he told her. ‘I muffed my School Certificate when I was sixteen, so I didn’t stand the ghost of a chance.’

  ‘You could apply for an apprenticeship …’

  ‘For what? I’m not all that clever with my hands.’

  ‘What about the police?’

  ‘If I have to be in uniform then I’d sooner stay in the Guards.’

  ‘You mean apply for a commission and make a career of it?’

  ‘I haven’t the educational qualifications needed to become an officer. The highest rank I’ll ever reach will be sergeant.’

  The argument went on incessantly. Helen felt bewildered by his attitude. On Adam’s last night at home, long after he was asleep, she lay awake, cradling him in her arms, her face wet with tears, trying to understand his reasoning. It wasn’t as though he even liked the Army all that much, she thought, bemused.

  While he had been on leave she had tried desperately to think of some other kind of work he could do, something that wouldn’t take him away from home. He had turned down every suggestion she’d made. Aunt Julia had put forward the idea of a small farm, even offering to let him use what little capital she had, but he was not to be persuaded.

  ‘You’re worrying needlessly,’ he assured Helen when she tried to tell him she couldn’t bear the thought of separation. ‘Once I’m in the regular Army you’ll be able to live in married quarters. It’s not all that different from living in a village. Everyone knows everybody else. You’ll soon make friends. You don’t think I’d be considering it if I thought we were going to be apart all the time, do you?’

  ‘But we will be! When you go back to Germany I’m going to be left behind,’ she had argued.

  ‘Only for a short time. Once I’ve signed on I’ll be sent back to England, to the Guards Depot, for special training. Wait until you see me in my uniform! The Guards are rather special, you know. Sentry duty at Buckingham Palace and Windsor Castle – and then there’s all sorts of ceremonial parades, like Trooping the Colour, as well as acting as Guard of Honour when foreign dignitaries visit.’

  ‘They’re still part of the Army so you could be sent anywhere where there’s trouble,’ Helen said stubbornly.

  ‘But there won’t be any more trouble, will there? The war is over.’

  ‘There may be another. Anyway, you could be sent to Europe, the Middle East or the Far East, as part of the peacekeeping force.’

  ‘And if I am then you’ll be able to come with me. Just think of it – you’ll be able to see the world and it won’t cost you a penny!’

  Since nothing she said made any difference, Helen finally gave up trying to change Adam’s mind. She only hoped he had got his facts right and that when his training was over she would be able to join him.

  A month after he had gone back to Germany she was still waiting for a date and, although his letters made light of the delay, she sensed that he was growing just as impatient and frustrated as she was.

  She was glad she still had her job at Bulpitts. At least her days were so fully occupied that she had no time to brood. At night she was so tired that she was usually asleep within minutes of her head touching the pillow.

  As Christmas approached, the festivities at the hospital kept her busy. Those well enough to go home to their families were given special leave and the nursing staff were determined to make Christmas as happy an occasion as possible for those who remained.

  The enormous Christmas tree was beautifully decorated and there were presents for each patient. Aunt Julia organized carol singers a
s well as a rota of visitors. Now the war was over she had given up her Civil Defence work and was enjoying a busy social life. She tried to involve Helen, but, unless the parties were actually being held at Willow Cottage, Helen did not take part. She preferred to spend what little spare time she had writing to Adam.

  It was mid-January 1946 before Adam wrote to say he would be returning to England the first week in March. Helen was overjoyed and would have given in her notice at Bulpitts right away if it had not been for Aunt Julia’s cautioning.

  ‘Wait and see if you can join him before you do that,’ her aunt advised. ‘It might be weeks before he’s posted, so you may as well go on working until then.’

  It had proved to be sound advice. Adam’s intensive training lasted for six weeks and, at the end of it, when he came home, it was just for a long weekend leave before being sent away on another course.

  ‘After this I’ll be made lance-sergeant and get my permanent posting,’ he told her, ‘and then I can apply for married quarters.’

  This time Helen did give in her notice.

  ‘We’re closing the place down, anyway,’ Matron told her, ‘so it saves me having to tell you there’s no job for you here after the beginning of June.’

  ‘What’s happening to all the patients?’

  ‘They’ll be dispersed. Those well enough to go home will be discharged, the rest will be moved to some other military hospital.’

  ‘And Bulpitts?’

  ‘Hand it back, I suppose.’ Matron shrugged. ‘Not really my concern. As you probably know, the people who leased it to the Army were killed quite early on in the war. Their son has been a prisoner of war but he is due home again and I heard he wants it back.’

  Helen found herself thinking of Donald for the first time in years. She knew he had been shot down, but so much had happened that she had lost touch. She wondered where Isabel was and what sort of war she’d had. The days when they had played together seemed to belong to another era. She must invite them to come and visit once she and Adam had their own place.

  The thought of having a home of her own at last excited Helen, yet filled her with trepidation. She had no experience at all of running a home or cooking; Aunt Julia took care of all that at Willow Cottage.

  ‘We’ll be living on tea and toast unless you teach me how to cook,’ Helen told her that evening when she got home from work.

  ‘You’ve left it a bit late, haven’t you?’ her Aunt said drily. ‘When is Adam due to join his unit?’

  ‘About the end of May.’

  ‘Well …’ her aunt looked doubtful, ‘it’s pretty short notice. You’d better make a start by cooking the supper tonight.’

  ‘What!’

  ‘You said you wanted to learn, so here’s your chance!’ Aunt Julia smiled.

  ‘Not tonight! I’ve had a killing day at Bulpitts.’

  ‘When you have a place of your own you’ll have to prepare lunch and breakfast as well as an evening meal. And wash up afterwards. Marriage isn’t just moonlight and roses, or walking hand-in-hand and daydreaming. You’ve got to deal with the practicalities as well. Cooking and cleaning are just part of them.’

  Helen shook her head in bewilderment at her aunt’s change of attitude. ‘You never said any of this before!’

  ‘You’ve never asked for advice so I’ve never given it. I’ve always treated you as a guest in my home. Don’t worry though, you’ll soon pick it up,’ Aunt Julia told her confidently.

  ‘I’d better make a start then, hadn’t I?’ Helen said quietly, as she lifted her chin proudly to meet the challenge in the older woman’s light-blue eyes.

  Chapter 13

  ‘What a fantastic birthday present!’

  Her grey eyes shining like molten silver, Helen took the key Adam held out to her and then flung her arms around his neck and hugged him.

  ‘This is the most wonderful present I’ve ever had,’ she exclaimed, her voice husky with joy. ‘A home of my own at last!’ Then her smile faded and a hot flush suffused her cheeks. She dropped her arms from Adam’s neck and went over to Aunt Julia. Dropping to her knees and clasping her arms around her aunt’s waist, she looked up into her eyes and whispered, ‘I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful. Willow Cottage has been a wonderful home for the past three years …’

  ‘Hush! hush!’ Tears filled Julia Freeman’s eyes as she patted Helen’s shoulder. ‘I understand, my dear, and I’m so happy for you. Remember though, there’s always a home for you here should you ever need one.’

  ‘You will come and visit us?’

  ‘Of course I will! Just as soon as you’re settled in.’

  Bubbling with excitement, Helen turned back to Adam. ‘Is it nice? Will I like it?’

  ‘I hope so, because you can’t change it! Everything is standard issue, even the furniture.’ He pulled a typed document from his pocket and handed it to her. ‘Here’s the inventory. Check it thoroughly when we go in because the Army will expect to find every item on that list still there when we move out, right down to the last teaspoon. We pay for any shortages or breakages.’

  ‘Well, I suppose that’s fair.’

  ‘It’s the system,’ Adam said drily.

  ‘When can we move in?’

  ‘Just as soon as you like … you’ve got the key right there in your hand.’

  Her grey eyes still shining, Helen turned back to her aunt. ‘Would you mind very much if we left tomorrow?’

  ‘I’d be wondering what was wrong if you didn’t,’ Aunt Julia assured her. ‘Just as long as you don’t go today and miss out on the party!’

  ‘Party … what party?’ Adam asked in surprise.

  ‘Just a few family friends. Being twenty-one is rather special, you know! Most of the people who are coming have known Helen all her life. And, what’s more, it’s giving her a chance to try out her cooking.’

  ‘Aunt Julia has been giving me a crash course,’ Helen explained. ‘This party is my passing-out test.’

  Helen was so excited she hardly slept. She was up at first light packing her clothes and personal belongings so that they could leave the moment breakfast was over.

  They caught an early-morning train to London, then took the suburban line to Brookwood, the nearest station for Pirbright. From there it was only a short walk to the Guards Depot.

  As they walked past regimented rows of red-brick houses, with tiny gardens in front, Helen wondered if she would ever get used to living there.

  Number eight, Redwood Square, looked so identical to the houses on either side that she checked the number twice to make sure it was the right house, before fitting the key in the lock.

  The door opened onto a small lobby with the stairs going straight up from it. To the right was a long, narrow room with a window at each end. The one at the far end looked out onto a sloping garden fringed with tall fir trees.

  Helen walked down the room, her hands touching the wooden arms of the three-piece suite which stood on a mottled blue and black carpet that almost matched the slubbed curtains.

  The dining-room area was furnished with a rugged pine table and four matching wooden chairs. A door on the left led to the kitchen, stocked with everything from saucepans and a frying-pan to blue-and-white cups and saucers, and even basic cleaning materials.

  Helen walked back to the lounge area and stood for a moment, gazing out at the communal front garden where two small boys were kicking a ball around.

  ‘Do you want to see the bedrooms?’ Adam asked.

  She nodded and preceded him up the stairs. The bathroom was straight ahead. The small landing had three bedrooms opening off it. None of the beds were made up, but on each mattress were two pillows and a pile of neatly-folded blankets and bedlinen.

  Although it was a hot July day, Helen suppressed a shiver. She crossed to the window, opening it wide, conscious of how the tall firs shadowed it.

  ‘Are we allowed to change things?’ she asked, pulling the blue slub curtains back as far as possible, i
n an attempt to let some sun into the room. ‘It feels damp in here.’

  ‘Probably the general bareness of the place makes it feel cold,’ Adam commented. ‘You’re used to velvet drapes, wallpaper on the walls and pictures and ornaments and nick-nacks everywhere.’

  ‘It’s this awful blue colour they’ve used.’

  ‘You can’t repaint the walls, or put wallpaper on them or anything like that,’ Adam warned her. ‘You can put up pictures as long as you don’t mark the walls. It’s so different from your aunt’s place that it’s bound to feel strange. You’ll get used to it after a day or two.’

  ‘I don’t think I will, not until I’ve added our own bits and pieces … and we haven’t got many of those.’

  ‘Let’s live in it and get the feel of the place first before we make any changes,’ Adam suggested.

  ‘It’s much bigger than I thought it would be. Three bedrooms … we only really need one!’

  ‘Sergeants who move out of barracks and into married quarters are usually family men!’ He grinned. ‘Perhaps we’ll soon be needing an extra bedroom ourselves.’

  ‘Oh, Adam, I hope so,’ she whispered, as his arms went round her and their lips met, blotting out everything except her joy that they were finally together.

  ‘Come on, Mrs Woodley,’ Adam teased gently, ‘your husband is starving.’ He looked at his watch ‘It’s gone three and we’ve had nothing to eat since breakfast-time. Let’s pop across to the NAAFI shop and see what they’ve got. There’s absolutely nothing here … not even a packet of tea! From now on it’s all up to you: shopping, washing, cooking … the lot!’

  As he hugged her, his enthusiasm bolstered her flagging spirits. She rested her head on his shoulder with a deep sigh. ‘It’s a bit like a dream,’ she whispered. ‘I still can’t believe I’m here and this is really going to be our home.’

  Helen took some time to settle down into married quarters. Her natural reserve made her shy with her neighbours. Their outspoken frankness about their own lives startled her. They all had young families and seemed rather amazed when they heard she had no children, although she had been married almost four years.