by Gloria Cook
Louisa had been offered a reasonable explanation but she couldn’t involve Ada in a lie. ‘No, he isn’t. He’s a poor dying man I came across quite recently. He’d returned to the area to… to seek out an old friend.’ For good measure, she added, ‘The vicar knows all about him.’
‘He will have someone to come to collect him in due course though?’
‘The arrangements have all been made.’
‘That’s something, I suppose. You’re such a good person, Lou. If the whole world was full of people like you then terrible things like this war wouldn’t happen. You still haven’t told me the chap’s name.’
Louisa had thought forward to this question. ‘It’s John Ash.’
Tom was thoughtful. ‘You were right. I haven’t heard that name before. Tell me if there’s anything I can do to help. We’re well into autumn, it’s very chilly. I’ll bring over some logs for your fires.’
‘I’d be very grateful.’
They returned to the kitchen. Tom picked up his raincoat but didn’t put it on. The weight of grief, of new responsibilities, was suddenly too heavy to bear. He needed the physical nearness of Louisa again, so he dropped his coat and went to her. ‘I don’t want to go home yet. Can I hold you again?’
She was happy with this. The embrace led to Tom placing his face on her shoulder, his warm breath gliding over her neck. ‘You smell nice,’ he said. Her perfume was so purely feminine. She gently ruffled his hair. She stroked his back. It was soothing for him, wonderful. ‘I wish I could stay here like this but I have to get back to Mum and the others.’ He broke away reluctantly.
‘Yes. You mustn’t have them worrying about you. It’s stopped raining, you won’t get wet on the ride home. I’ll see you to the front door.’
There, she said, ‘Pass on my condolences and my love to Aunt Em. I’ll come to the farm tomorrow.’
‘Good, good.’ He gave Louisa one last hug. He made it a long one.
Louisa allowed him to hold her. Her arms were wrapped around his neck.
He snuggled her into him. His lips were near her neck. He kissed her there. It just happened but seemed a natural thing to do.
She was surprised that the brotherly affection had turned into something else. Tom shouldn’t have kissed her in that way. But she didn’t mind. She leaned her head away, to get a good look at him. Their eyes met. Something, a spark of something, flared between them. It was more than a momentary thing. Snap. One second they were as usual, close friends. Now there was something more.
He put his hands on her shoulders, worked his fingers and thumbs in a gentle yet intimate manner. She put her palms on his chest, watching the backs of her hands as she smoothed over the lapels of his jacket. It was normally the womanly way of making sure a man was tidy. She did it possessively. When she looked up, he gazed straight back into her eyes.
There came a cough, a loud cough that echoed down the stairs. Louisa turned worriedly in that direction. There was another, harsher cough. She returned her attention to Tom. ‘I must go up to him.’ He hadn’t moved or changed his searching expression.
She reached up and brought his hands down off her shoulders. He gave his head a little shake as if coming out of a daydream. ‘I’d better go.’
‘As soon as Ada gets off shift tomorrow to watch over Mr Ash, I’ll come to the farm.’
‘I’ll look forward to that.’ He usually kissed Louisa goodbye. He wanted to now, so badly, but he was afraid he might move the kiss on from her cheek and kiss her mouth, kiss her from the reserves of the new feelings for her that were building up inside him, now that the boundary of their former familiarity had shifted. He was afraid he’d step over a line that would lead to them being alienated. Louisa was decent and honourable, and loyal to her husband’s memory, and too aware that his usual responses to women rivalled Jonny and, once, Will. ‘Cheerio then. I’ll let myself out. You go up and see to this Mr Ash.’
‘Bye, Tom.’ She understood why he hadn’t given her his customary kiss. A barrier had been crossed and there was no going back to the old way between them. It was as well that he hadn’t stooped to her, for if his face had come close to hers, if his lips had been aimed near hers, she might have turned her head and kissed him fully, with passion and need. She didn’t want him to go. This kind, unselfish man, so desirable to women. She was articulating in her head short sentences to ask him to stay, to come back later, and she was afraid she would actually say them.
The man upstairs started up a nasty bout of coughing and retching. Louisa headed for the stairs. Tom remembered the duty of care and protection he must return to and he opened the door. When she reached the top stair she looked down to the bottom. Tom was still there, having watched her mount every step. They both lifted a hand in a small farewell wave, which was also a gesture of something deeper.
Chapter Fourteen
Jill was on her own in the kitchen, wearing an apron, peeling vegetables for a mutton stew. Land Army members weren’t required to do domestic work but she was pleased to be doing this today for the people she had come to see as her family. They were all at the church for Will’s memorial service. Her mind crept often to Will and she’d blink on her sorrow. And think about Ronnie and ache to hear from him.
She had asked Mrs Em if she could use the telephone to ask news of Ronnie from his mother. Mrs Trenear didn’t know about the engagement, only that she and Ronnie were penfriends. With the house empty it was the perfect time. Afraid of what she might hear, it took a few more minutes to summon the courage and go to the den. The operator connected her to Melvill Road in Falmouth surprisingly quickly. The breath caught in her chest as she plunged in, ‘Hello, Mrs Trenear. It’s Jill Laity.’
‘Jill? Oh, hello, dear. How are you?’
‘I’m fine, thank you.’ Not wanting to waste the precious time allowance, Jill didn’t dither too long getting to the point. ‘The thing is, well, you see, I haven’t heard from Ronnie for ages. I was wondering if all is well.’
‘Why, yes, dear. We had a letter from him only yesterday. He manages to ring us occasionally. Mr Trenear and I will remind him to drop you a line. Of course, you understand that he’s very busy. There’s so much training going on. We never get a minute’s peace here, as you must remember. I spoke to your Uncle Stanley the other day. He told me roughly where you are. It must be so much quieter there.’
‘It is,’ Jill said, aware again of the comparative cocoon she lived in. ‘Cheerio, Mrs Trenear.’ There was no point in asking her any more questions.
‘Cheerio, dear. You take care.’
Jill dragged her feet back to the mutton stew and put it on the range to simmer. Why was Ronnie ignoring her? It couldn’t be anything else. But surely he still loved her? He wouldn’t have given her an engagement ring if she’d meant nothing to him. It didn’t make sense.
The dogs started up a commotion in the yard. Surely the family weren’t back already? Someone was entering through the front door. Jill went into the passage to see who it was. ‘Faye! You’re back.’
‘Hello, Jill, give me a hand, will you, please?’ Faye was trying to cope with bags and bundles.
Jill took a large bundle from her. She had a small shock when the bundle moved. ‘Good heavens! It’s a baby.’
‘Carry him into the warm for me. I’ll drag the rest inside. Babies need so many things.’
Jill took the baby close to the range, unwrapping the thick tartan blanket from its upper body. She gazed at it, instinctively cooing, and was thrilled to be rewarded with a coy smile from the chubby, pink-cheeked face. The baby’s dark grey eyes were watery and nose snuffly as if it had a cold. From the edges of its white woollen bonnet tendrils of black hair were escaping. ‘He’s beautiful, Faye. Where did you get him? Or her?’
Putting the baby’s double-ended bottle of milk on the table, Faye trudged to the little armchair Emilia used and collapsed into it. ‘Phew! I’m exhausted. I thought I’d never get here. It was a devil of a job to get travel passes.
The train journeys were horrendous, every carriage was packed with servicemen and anxious passengers. When we finally arrived in Truro I practically had to sell my soul to get a lift here. A smallholder from Mitchell was returning home. He put us down at Henna Lane. I’ve walked the rest of the way, praying that the rain would hold off. The first drops were falling when I reached the yard.’ She yawned and stretched her aching limbs. ‘Where’s everyone got to?’
Jill explained.
‘Oh, I’m just too late to join them. Dear, dear Will. Uncle Tris sent me a telegram about him to the croft where I was staying. Has it been awful for Aunt Em and Lottie?’ She held out her arms. ‘Here, I’ll take him.’ Once the baby was handed over there was instant eye contact between him and Faye. ‘Has my father gone to the church?’
‘He’s not back yet.’
‘Oh.’ Faye made a face. ‘Do you know if there’s been any word from him?’
‘None that I know of.’ Jill hadn’t taken her eyes off the baby. She had little knowledge of infants but reckoned this one was about a year old. ‘He’s very sweet. What’s his name?’
Faye removed his bonnet and held him up so Jill could get a better view. She went a defiant red. ‘I hope you’re not going to be too shocked. Meet my son, Simon. His full name is Simon Harvey, because I’m not married to his father.’
A few months ago such an announcement would have made Jill looked hurriedly away, embarrassed for the mother, worried for her and her baby’s future. Living among a down-to-earth family that kept no secret of their past indiscretions, where she had gained an understanding of why women slept with the men they were drawn to, she merely repeated, ‘He’s a beautiful child. I can see the Harvey resemblance now. Is there anything I can get you?’
‘If there’s any dregs in the teapot I’d welcome a cup. Simon will need his bottle warming quite soon. Jill, thanks… you know what I mean.’
Jill smiled. It was good to have formed another friendship. ‘I can make you a cup of coffee, Nescafé. Corporal Nate Harmon, Lottie’s young man, brought over a big box of treats last week.’
‘I’ve got a lot of catching up to do. Everyone will be wondering about Simon’s father. The truth is I’ve been very foolish, Jill. Sidney Eathorne’s going to have a field day when the facts get about. I know I could pretend I was a widow but I’ve found one lie leads to another and I hate deceit. My baby’s father is the laird of the estate where I’d been working. He told me his wife had died years ago. He’s got a grown-up family. When I told him I was pregnant, he admitted that his wife has lived in Florence for years with her lover, that he has no intention of getting a divorce as the scandal would bring the estate down. Sorry, I ought to shut up.’
‘I don’t mind.’ Jill made the coffee. ‘I was brought up so quietly, in an atmosphere where real life never really entered. It’s been so refreshing living here.’
‘Thanks. You’re easy to talk to, Jill. The farm’s lucky to have you.’ Faye took a sip of coffee and then the words spilled out of her. ‘Despite my circumstances I consider myself very fortunate. Fergus settled a very generous sum on me. He arranged for me to live with a warm-hearted woman in a remote part of the estate for my confinement. I talked to her often about my life, my father. Mrs McPherson was a good listener. Finally she said that I’d turned to Fergus out of the need for love and affection from an older man rather than the desire for a love affair. I agreed with that. I haven’t been left with a broken heart. Mrs McPherson encouraged me to see to my father before I made the decision where to settle with my baby. So I came down here after I’d weaned Simon.
‘I was hoping I might build up a relationship with my father but I felt he owed me and Simon a home. I was feeling really mercenary about it. I had to wait longer than I’d planned bringing him down after he developed a bad cold. But up there in the peacefulness of Scotland, I found I couldn’t resent my father as much as before for his lack of interest in me. He’s a very mixed-up soul. I talked it over with Mrs McPherson, agreeing that I had to at least let my father see his grandson. I could be risking rejection in even stronger terms if my father is ashamed of me and refuses to accept Simon. If it turns out he’s not interested, then I’ll go back up to Scotland and wait out the war. One day I’m hoping to take Simon to Washington to meet my mom. She knows about him, by the way. She’s disappointed I’m not decently married but she’s happy to receive us both.’
‘I’m sure everything will work out, Faye.’
‘I hope you’re right, Jill. You got on with quite well with my father, didn’t you?’
‘I could see Ben’s always had a lot on his mind. Perhaps he’s gone away to sort himself out.’
‘I do hope so.’ Faye sat forward and grew earnest. ‘I came here first today because the instant I reached the village and saw the filling station with my father’s name painted on it, I lost my nerve. I thought I’d find the courage to go to Tremore after I’d spoken to Aunt Em. I was going to ask her if I could come back here if things were too awful. Now I’ll be able to go on to Tremore with Uncle Tris. I can’t see him being too horridly judgemental. I’ll be able to get Simon settled in before my father makes his reappearance. I wonder where he is. I hope he’s all right. He was in such a strange state the last time I saw him. Can’t help worrying – he is my dad. I suppose you know he had a phone call. Wish I knew who it was from.’
Simon pushed two fingers into his mouth and sucked on them contentedly. She kissed him. ‘Well, my little man, won’t you be a surprise for your grandfather? I’d better see about getting you changed and fed and making you presentable. You’re about to be introduced to a lot of your family.’
* * *
Lottie had stayed dry-eyed throughout the memorial service. A young-looking figure engulfed in black, she was in the churchyard, at the graves of her father and sister and weeping as if she’d never stop. She’d told the others to go on without her, that she wanted a little time alone. She became aware there was someone close by. Tom probably, keeping watch over her.
She sniffed and swallowed and brought herself under control. ‘I’m all right. You needn’t stay.’
‘Honey, it’s me.’
‘Nate. Oh, Nate.’ She eased into a weak, watery smile. ‘I thought you couldn’t get away.’
He went to her, making to hold her. ‘It took a lot of bribery and pleading but I managed to change duty. I didn’t want to infringe on your family grief but I had to see you, Lottie. Make sure you’re OK. I’ll go if it’s what you want.’
‘No. It’s good to see you.’ In her despondency she was pleased to have him here, delighted with his thoughtfulness. It was typical of him, he always put others first, and did so in a humble, sensitive way. Leaning against him, arms wrapped round his waist, she gazed down at the graves. ‘I can’t make sense of it.’
‘What exactly?’ His voice was soothing, telling her to take her time.
‘Everything. Life. Death. The world. The purpose of it all. Does everyone go through this, do you think?’
‘I guess they do. You’ve known a lot of sadness, Lottie.’ He read the inscribed words. ‘Alec, aged forty-two. Your father was only a young man. Jenna. She was just twenty-five days old. Your sister was hardly here at all.’
‘And now thousands of ordinary people are dying before their time every day. Innocent civilians, and young men like Will with his life in front of him, sacrificing their dreams. I suppose it’s all for a reason and it will become clear to us one day. I wish the war wasn’t happening, Nate. Yet if it wasn’t I wouldn’t have met you. I don’t like that thought.’
‘Nor do I.’
They intensified their embrace, making the precious moments last, creating a memory.
‘I’d better run you home, then I’ll make myself scarce.’
‘Mum won’t expect me back for a while longer.’ She pulled off her felt hat. ‘I want to make the most of this time together.’ God only knew how much longer she would have him as hers, locally, alive. As a medi
c he stood a marginally better chance of lasting through the brutal reality of a battlefield, but the dreadful possibility of him being killed was all too vividly true. They had found they could talk to each other in total honesty and had bravely faced the subject.
‘You mustn’t grieve over me for always, honey,’ he’d said, placing a gentle hand over her heart. ‘Never forget me in here, I’ll ask no more of you than that. Then you must get on with your life. Live, Lottie, live the time you have to the full and you’ll be living for both of us.’
‘I will, Nate,’ she’d promised. They’d touched briefly on the gulf of their differences, like the two thousand miles of Atlantic Ocean between their homes. If there was ever going to be anything permanent between them, one of them was going to have to make a major sacrifice. Nothing like that mattered for now. If it proved possible for them to make such a decision, they’d be happy to face it then.
He said now, ‘Let’s go to the little valley.’
In their special place, he led the way to the patch of wild grass pressed down by the previous meetings. They sat, kissed and kissed again. Nate encircled her lovingly in his arms and eased her to lie down with him. ‘Keep your eyes closed, Lottie. Let the earth hold us, link us together. There’s just us. For now there’s no one else but us in the whole world. Good ground beneath us, the beautiful sky above us, creation all around us.’
‘I wish we could stay here for ever.’
‘We will, in a way. This afternoon in October 1943 will never come again. It’s ours. It belongs to us and always will.’ He leaned over her. Touched one of her pearl-drop earrings. ‘Can I have this? I’ll take it everywhere I go and look at it every day. It’ll be great having a part of you with me.’
‘Of course you can. You can take them both.’
‘I want just the one. I’ll bring it back to you one day, when the world’s safe to live in again.’
It was exactly at this moment that Lottie’s great fondness for Nate turned into the deepest love. It was such a strong sensation, so exquisite, infinitely overwhelming, making her body leap into a new way of being, and she let out a bewildered, needy cry. ‘I want something of yours, Nate. I want you.’
