Emma's War

by Rosie Clarke

  I closed my eyes, taking my time before I answered.

  ‘To be with you,’ I said at last. ‘Have more children, perhaps a girl next and then another boy – but I would also like to own and run a chain of fashion shops one day. Not the sort that only rich women can afford to patronise. I think things will be different after the war. We are all going to be so fed up with wearing what we’re told we ought to wear. I think ordinary women … women like me … will demand access to fashion. We want to choose for ourselves. To have the right to be different, to make a statement …’

  ‘Whoever said you were an ordinary woman?’ Jack asked, chuckling at his own thoughts. ‘Somehow, I don’t think there are too many around like you, my darling.’

  ‘I was a very ordinary girl,’ I said and smiled as he looked at me in disbelief. ‘You didn’t know me when I was younger, Jack. Until I came to London I seldom had a shop-bought dress. My mother made my clothes. I was very naive, very ignorant.’

  ‘Well, you sure changed somewhere along the line, sweetheart.’

  I pulled a face at him and stood up. ‘Shall we go for a walk?’

  Jack sprang to his feet, taking the hand I offered, our fingers interlocking as we began to walk.

  ‘I suppose I learned the hard way. Once, when I was very young and impatient for life to begin, my Gran told my fortune. She was good at it, Jack – no, don’t look like that! Sometimes she did see things … she did know what was going to happen.’

  ‘So what did she see for you?’ His eyes teased and challenged me.

  ‘She said I had a long, hard road to travel, that I would have a child … she thought I might have more but that wasn’t clear. She also said that I would make my own destiny.’

  ‘I believe that much,’ Jack said. ‘You’re a strong woman, Emma. You might not really know that yet. You tend to take too much notice of what other people think, worry too much about the feelings and intentions of others. One day you will decide to do things your way, and I imagine that is going to be quite something.’

  ‘Is it so wrong to take account of other people’s feelings?’ I asked, gazing up at him.

  ‘It can get you into a lot of trouble, Emma. I’m not saying you have to be unkind or greedy – but a leader stands by his own decisions. He takes responsibility for his own actions.’

  ‘For good or ill?’ I met Jack’s eyes, trying to read his thoughts. ‘I know that’s what you do, Jack – but I am not sure I would ever be strong enough.’

  He touched his fingers to my mouth. ‘Maybe that’s what your Gran meant when she said you had a long road to travel, Emma. Only when you are prepared to take what you want from life will you reach whatever it is you want.’

  ‘At the moment all I want is you, Jack.’ I reached up to kiss him on the mouth. ‘Make love to me …’

  ‘Willingly,’ he murmured, his throat husky with desire. ‘Never change in that way, Emma. You are very special as you are, and I want you more than I shall ever know how to tell you …’

  Every day was filled with pleasure. Jack had such energy, such a capability for enjoying life, and he was generous enough to make sure that everyone around him shared in the magic he generated. My son was soon his adoring slave, quelled by a frown, uplifted by a smile. They romped through the lovely Sussex countryside, James on his daddy’s shoulders, played ball games and built castles on the beach.

  Hastings had a very stony beach, but there were quiet, unspoilt areas where few holidaymakers ever strayed. Some of the beaches had been shut off with barbed wire to guard against invasion by sea and were ringed with notices warning trespassers to keep out, but it was still possible to find safe havens and of course Jack knew where they were. He even had permission to visit some that were closed to the general public.

  ‘Is there anything you can’t manage to fix?’ I asked him once. ‘Does anyone ever get the better of you, Jack?’

  ‘You did,’ he said and he was serious as he looked at me. ‘For a long time I thought you would never love me. That almost broke my heart, Emma. I don’t know what I would do if I lost you. I can’t lose you. I would do anything to keep you.’

  ‘You won’t lose me,’ I promised recklessly. There was an odd expression in his eyes at that moment. I wasn’t sure what it meant, but it sent a shiver down my spine. I sensed that Jack could be ruthless if he chose. ‘Why should you? You know I love you. We are so right for each other. And James is a changed child in your company. I’ve never known him to be this content. He adores you, Jack.’

  ‘And I adore you, Emma.’ He kissed my fingers, sucking the tips, nipping the little one with his teeth. ‘You are mine. I don’t give up what belongs to me. You should remember that.’

  ‘You don’t own me, Jack. No man will ever do that – but I want to be with you. There’s no need to look so murderous. There will never be another man who means this much to me, who gives me such happiness, such joy. I promise you I shan’t fall into bed with someone else the minute your back is turned.’

  Jack smiled oddly. ‘I know that, Emma. I’ve never even considered it, though I know that side of things is important to you. It’s your damned sense of duty that scares the hell out of me. I’m afraid you will never tear yourself away from your friends and family.’ He pulled a wry face. ‘I shall probably have to move my business to London after the war is over.’

  ‘Would you do that for me?’

  ‘If I had to,’ he said, a glint of annoyance in his eyes. ‘Does it give you a thrill to know you have that much power over me, Emma?’

  ‘No.’ I shook my head at him, my long hair falling over my face. I flicked it back so that he could see my expression. ‘I’m not sure I do – but I shan’t put it to the test, Jack. I want to come to America with you. I’ve often dreamed of going there … I’m greedy for all the things you promised … for the good life.’

  ‘Let me take you there now, when I go back,’ Jack said, and he seemed oddly nervous, unlike himself. ‘I know I promised to wait until this is all over, but …’

  I touched my lips to his. ‘Don’t, Jack. Please don’t ask me to go now. You don’t know how it tears me apart. I hate being asked to choose. I can’t leave while things are so awful here. I’m sorry. I can’t leave my friends just yet. When the war is over …’

  ‘I know. I know!’

  Jack rolled me beneath him in the dry grass. Our words were lost as we kissed and desire flared to a scorching heat between us. We had no need to argue, we were so perfectly in harmony when we touched, our bodies eager, needy, hungry for the joy we had found together.

  And so we made love, again and again as the lovely days sped by and we lived for the moment, knowing that all too soon it would be over.

  ‘I’m going to be around for a while,’ Jack promised as he dropped me off at Sol and Margaret’s house on our return to London. ‘We’ll manage a night together every now and then – but I’m going to be busy from here on in. I’ll telephone when I can.’

  ‘Things to do, people to see.’ I smiled at him despite the ache in my heart. I wanted to scream my protests aloud. Why should Jack have to leave me when I needed him so? It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t right – but it was life. ‘I understand. I’m not going to make demands you can’t fulfil. Dream about me, Jack. I’ll be dreaming of you.’

  I kissed him and let him go without tears. Not so my demanding son. James screamed when Nanny took him off to the nursery. He sobbed bitter tears for his daddy, kicking and struggling against the arms that held him.

  I understood his tantrums. Jack had lavished him with an easy affection, spoiling him and yet drawing both love and respect from a child who was now four years old and intelligent enough to understand what was happening.

  He vaguely remembered Jack giving him his beloved pedal car. In my son’s mind Jack was now very much his daddy, and he did not want him to go away again.

  I did not think James could remember Richard. My first husband had hated him, doing his best to ignore his
very existence because he was not his son but the child of Paul Greenslade. Jon had tried to be a father to the boy, but he had not been with him often enough to form a bond between them – and I had gone away with Jon twice, leaving my son in the care of others. I had an uneasy feeling that James had resented Jon because of that. I could not think that he would have clung to the man whose name he bore as he did to Jack.

  Perhaps one day it would be possible to change James’s name from Reece to Harvey. When the time came, I was sure Jack would want that. He would want to claim my son as his own, as he had claimed me.

  After Jack had gone, I went up to the nursery. James was sitting on the floor. He had built a castle of bright blocks, but as he realized I was there he gave a scream of rage and knocked them flying.

  ‘Want my daddy,’ he said, his face red and tearful. ‘Bad Mummy! Mummy go away. Want my daddy! Want my daddy!’

  ‘Now then, Master James,’ Nanny said in a scolding tone. ‘Mummy has come to see you. You must not be a bad boy.’

  ‘He isn’t bad,’ I said, bending to scoop him up into my arms. ‘Mummy loves you, darling. Daddy has to go away, but he will come back just as soon as he can. I promise.’

  James sobbed into my breast, his tears of heartbreak wounding me. I wondered if perhaps he had understood more as a baby than I’d imagined. Had he felt it when Jon went away? Had he been disturbed when I left March and came to live in London with people he did not know? I had thought him too young, but perhaps he had been more affected by the traumas which had changed our lives than I had realized. If so, it must be confusing for him. It was little wonder that Jack had charmed his baby heart, and that he was so distressed now he sensed things were changing once more.

  I kissed his head, smoothing his soft hair until the weeping eased.

  ‘Mummy goes away sometimes,’ I whispered against his ear. ‘She comes back again. Daddy will come back to us, darling. I promise. I promise faithfully.’

  Perhaps I should not have given my word, but I wanted to comfort my son. I wanted to ease his pain, which was also mine.

  We were lucky that summer, James and I. Despite his busy schedule, Jack made time to be with us as often as he could, and I knew it was because he loved us that he made the effort, often after he had been up for most of the night and was clearly in need of rest.

  Jack never told me what it was that kept him so busy during those days and nights. I did not ask, because in a way I understood. He was an important man, not just as a general of the American Army but in other ways. I suspected that Jack was more wealthy than I would ever have dreamed of, and that a part of his importance to the British government was his ability to finance things that could have a huge bearing on the outcome of the war. I could not begin to guess at what went on behind those closed doors, nor did I wish to be told. All I cared about was the warm, loving, slightly wicked man who spent as many hours as he could with us.

  He was there for Jane’s party for the children of the women who kept the social club running. He and James took part in the father and son egg and spoon race, and of course they won first prize: it would have surprised me if they hadn’t.

  Jack could do no wrong. He seemed to bear a charmed existence and everything was brighter when he was there.

  ‘You were always lucky with your men,’ Sheila told me when I gave her a packet of sticky toffee for Lizzy and three more for Annie’s children. ‘But then, you’re lucky in every way.’

  ‘I work for my luck,’ I said. ‘But I am lucky to have Jack.’

  ‘Todd has gone,’ Sheila said, and for a moment I saw the sparkle of tears in her eyes. ‘He told me he met you at the social club that night. He thought you were classy, Emma – especially when he saw you were General Harvey’s girlfriend.’

  Something about the way she said that grated, as if she were insinuating that Jack was just using me to amuse himself over here, that he would go away after the hostilities ended and forget me.

  ‘Jack has asked me to marry him,’ I told her. ‘We shall most likely go to America to live after the war.’

  ‘Todd promised to come back for me,’ she said. ‘He was probably lying through his teeth, but I might get lucky for once.’

  ‘I hope you do, Sheila,’ I said, and hesitated. ‘I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something … but perhaps today is not the best time. We’ll have a chat when we’re more private.’

  ‘Oh, you needn’t bother,’ she replied. ‘I shan’t be going to your precious social club any more. I’ve found somewhere else … somewhere more exciting, where they don’t have so many stupid rules.’

  She turned away, calling to the children to follow her across the park greens. I watched her for a moment, feeling hurt that she was so resentful of me. I had always tried to be a friend to her, and it was not my fault that things had gone wrong in her life.

  I was lucky, I knew that, but a part of my good fortune at least had come because I had worked for it. The London shop was doing well, and so was Gwen, and even Mrs Henty was still managing to make a reasonable profit – but I counted my true fortune as having so many people who cared for me.

  Sheila was not lucky in that respect. I knew her mother never bothered to keep in touch, and she had not been back to March once to see her closest family. All she had was her cousin Annie, and her daughter, Lizzy. Perhaps Todd would come back for her after the war as he’d promised … but I could not forget the way he had asked me to go with him when she was not at the club that night. If he really loved her … but that was not for me to judge.

  I wondered if Sheila was finding it hard to manage. Sol paid her three pounds and five shillings a week, but she had to pay her cousin rent and food could be expensive these days. I had noticed that Lizzy and Annie’s children were poorly dressed, and their clothes had not looked too clean. Perhaps I could find some clothes for the children. We had recently taken in a few items of children’s clothing at the shop, and it was possible that some of the women’s dresses could be cut down to fit Annie’s girls, who were seven, ten and fourteen. I thought I might buy some new material and make two dresses for Lizzy myself.

  It would be a peace offering, to try and make up a little for what Sheila had lost when her dreams of owning her own business had fallen into ashes.

  I did not say anything about the clothes to Sheila when I saw her at work the following Monday. She seemed a bit subdued, her eyes apologetic even though she did not say she was sorry for having spoken so resentfully at the children’s party.

  I decided not to mention our disagreement either. Perhaps I had been at fault. I should not have listened to Pamela’s complaints. Sheila was entitled to do as she pleased with her own life. Yet I could not help feeling anxious about her as I noticed the shadows under her eyes becoming darker as the days passed.

  Sol was not pleased with her work. He complained to me that she was careless, and that she did not check the stock as she ought.

  ‘We’re short of a size thirty-eight hip in that blue dress with the short sleeves,’ he told me with a frown. ‘And there was ten shillings missing out of the petty cash last week … after she had been here alone. I left the tin in the desk when I went out. You were doing your fire duty, Emma, and I know the money was there when I left the showroom …’

  ‘Have you asked her about it?’

  He shook his head. ‘What’s the use? She would deny having taken it. I don’t like thieves, Emma. Sheila is a size thirty-eight … and I know she has borrowed dresses before. I saw her putting one back once, and there was a stain under the arms. I had to mark it down as soiled goods.’

  ‘Oh, Sol … why didn’t you tell me? I could have spoken to her.’

  ‘And have her turn sulky on you?’ He frowned. ‘It’s not worth it, Emma. I’m thinking of letting her go.’

  ‘Sol! You wouldn’t?’

  ‘I’ve had government people asking me about her hours,’ he said. ‘They don’t think I need two girls in the showroom, especially as
I’ve had her down as part time. I was willing to make excuses for her while she was doing her job properly, but now I feel we would be better off without her. Trade isn’t as brisk as it was, and Fanny can come in from the workroom when you and I are both out.’

  ‘What will you say to her?’ I could see that he had made up his mind to let Sheila go, and it was his business. Although he treated me as a partner, I was only his employee in the showroom. I could not force him to change his mind. ‘Are you going to accuse her of theft?’

  ‘No.’ His eyes did not quite meet mine and I wondered what he was hiding from me. ‘I shall give her two weeks’ money in the morning, and tell her I’ve been told I can’t keep her. You needn’t worry, Emma. She won’t want for work. The government are crying out for women to do war work. She’ll find a place in a factory easily enough.’

  I nodded, but did not say anything. I felt upset for Sheila. I knew she would hate having to work in a factory again, and I expected her to be angry, not just with Sol but with me, too.

  However, she seemed to accept her dismissal without fuss, almost as though she had been expecting it.

  ‘I’ve had enough of this place anyway,’ she told me when she came back from her interview with Sol. ‘He’s a mean old bugger. I don’t know how you can live with him and his wife. I couldn’t stick it.’

  ‘Oh, don’t say that,’ I begged her. ‘Don’t be bitter, Sheila. I wish Sol could keep you, but it isn’t possible.’

  ‘Don’t lie to me, Emma,’ she said harshly. ‘We both know why I’ve got the push. He hadn’t got the guts to come out with it, because he suspects I know too much about him, but it was because of the money and the dress.’

  ‘Sheila …’ I stared at her in horror.

  ‘I took them,’ she said, lifting her chin defiantly. ‘Lizzy was ill and I needed extra money to buy medicine for her – and I took the dress to wear when I saw Todd the last time. I meant to put it back, but it got stained all over the skirt and I knew I wouldn’t get away with it, so I kept it. Annie washed it and it looks all right, but he would have known it had been washed.’