War Widow

by June Francis

  ‘Flo!’ He squeezed her hand and she looked sidelong at him. Her heart misgave her. ‘Please, Mike, don’t ask me again.’ Her voice was unsteady. ‘Don’t think that I’m not tempted, because I am. But it wouldn’t be fair on you. You need the whole shebang from a woman and I couldn’t give you that.’

  He frowned. ‘You haven’t given yourself a chance, Flo. How d’you know you can’t give me what I want? Just a few kisses we’ve had, and the last one gave off sparks.’ He pulled her into his arms, Flora struggled but his grip tightened and his mouth came down over hers. She resisted, closing her lips tightly, telling herself that Mike could only be a friend. A good, good friend, because it was Tom who was still in her heart and it was impossible to love two men at the same time.

  Mike lifted his head and gave a short laugh. ‘Hell, Flora, you can do better than that. I think you don’t give a damn about me,’ he said crossly.

  Unexpectedly she was reminded of a film that she had seen and a giggle rose inside her. ‘Frankly I do,’ she murmured demurely, remembering how she had always wanted Rhett Butler to be terribly overbearing once more and to sweep the stubborn, stupid Scarlett into his arms and up the stairs.

  ‘You do?’ The anger in his face vanished to be replaced by a grin. ‘Then you’ll marry me?’

  ‘No.’ Her voice was uneven when she added, ‘I’m terribly, terribly fond of you, and I’ve enjoyed terrifically our times together, but – I can’t go to America, however pretty a picture you paint of it. And you Yanks can sure do that! Cherry blossom springs, white Christmases, hot summers and autumns that are so beautiful that folk take rides on Sundays just to see the colour of the trees.’ She took a breath. ‘Oh, and I mustn’t forget that there’s also plenty of food and no rationing or bombed buildings.’

  There was a faint smile on his face. ‘Your Hilda’s been listening to Tony. But it’s a bit different where I come from. We have the sun all right but we also have the Pacific. I know you like the sea. Think of having a beach house and watching the rollers coming in. Think of me and you walking along a beach.’ He was gripping her hand tightly now. ‘Think of me and you making love and being happy ever after.’

  She groaned and put an arm about his neck and pressed against him. Her voice was muffled when she spoke. ‘I don’t walk on clouds, love. You think hard. Of having the kids around all the time – of supporting them. And of me being homesick for Liverpool. Because, believe it or not, I would miss this battered old city. I do know how you feel because I care for you, and though it mightn’t be wartime there’s a sense of urgency, of not wanting to let go, of needing something that you might never have a chance at again.’

  ‘You really feel like that and you can turn me down?’ he said seriously, holding her gently.

  She lifted her head. ‘I think we’ll get over what we feel right now.’

  There was a short silence before he murmured, ‘And what do you feel, right this moment?’

  ‘I want you,’ she said huskily, her face burning as she met his eyes squarely. ‘And if you feel the same, then you’d better grab me while I’m offering because tomorrow I’ll probably go all respectable again. Tonight’s goodbye, Mike. A clean cut is better than a lingering farewell.’ She paused and their fingers twisted and gripped tightly. ‘What d’you say?’ she whispered.

  He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her little finger. ‘Oh, honey, I never thought you would,’ he said in a low voice. ‘So I’ll grab you while the going’s good.’

  ‘Where do we go then?’ A shiver of excitement raced through her and she determined not to allow feelings of guilt to spoil everything. Afterwards she would ask God and Tom to forgive her.

  ‘I know a place.’ He gripped her hand tightly and began to run her towards the tram stop.

  ‘I hope you’re prepared?’ she gasped, blushing even as she said it.

  ‘Nope, but I’ll see to it.’

  The place was a hotel near Lime Street. The proprietor asked no questions about their marital status and for that at least Flora was grateful, although she was less nervous now than when she had had a two day honeymoon in Rhyl.

  Their room was clean and comfortable. She looked at Mike as he hung up her coat, feeling awkward, wondering how to get from fully dressed into the bed.

  Mike smiled. Taking one of her hands he let out a whoop and twirled her round the room so that her short skimpy skirts fluttered madly. Then he caught her up against his chest and they kissed as if tomorrow was already upon them. His hands covered her breasts, his fingers stroking her nipples till they hardened and seemed to thrust through the fabric. His lips nuzzled her neck, her cheek, found her mouth again and moved over it hungrily.

  Her lips opened beneath his and his tongue dallied with the tip of hers while he stroked the frock from her shoulders. Within seconds he held both her breasts in his hands and, lowering his head, his lips found first one rosy nipple and then the other. Her pulses beat in her ears and she swayed against him, as her frock fell about her feet. His fingers searched inside her underwear, caressing lower and lower, until he stopped, and clasped, then explored inside her. Her heart seemed to jump suffocatingly into her throat. She closed her eyes briefly before dragging at his arm. ‘Mike, please.’ The words came out in a throaty thread of sound.

  He looked into her dazed face and without speaking, stripped her and carried her over to the bed. She lay naked, watching him undress. Then he was beside her, fingering her shining copper hair spread on the pillow. Reaching up, she let her hand run slowly over the light brown hair on his chest. Then the movement stilled as she remembered how she had tugged at the golden hair on Tom’s chest the last time they had been together, and she could have wept because already her body was trembling in anticipation of what might happen next and she so wanted Mike to make love to her but now it was impossible. She was flooded with guilt, and rolled over and buried her face in the pillow.

  ‘Honey, what’s wrong?’ Mike’s voice was urgent. Flora made no answer, struggling with her emotions. There was a short silence, then he shocked her into forgetting everything else but the moment by straddling her. His mouth touched the nape of her neck and nibbled before nuzzling down her spine. A shiver raced through her, and as his tongue licked her tail bone a low murmur of pleasure escaped her.

  He dropped on top of her, reaching beneath to seize her breasts and kissing between her shoulder blades.

  ‘Mike, please,’ she whispered, unable to move when every fibre of her was yearning to respond.

  ‘Please what?’ he retorted in a slightly mocking voice against her ear.

  ‘Let me turn over.’ His body lifted slightly, just enough.

  They looked at each other and then he kissed the corner of her mouth gently and her muscles seemed to turn to marshmallow. She put her arms around his neck and pulled him down on top of her. Desire was suddenly a whirlwind, carrying them along to do whatever they wished. One kiss merged with the next and the next. He caressed her all over, even touching her bare toes, rousing her to a trembling state of sensitivity. She nuzzled his face, his throat, his broad shoulders – and thrust her hands between their torsoes so that he would lift off her and she could kiss his chest and his quivering stomach muscles. He groaned and stilled her hand, covered it and pressed it hard over him. His grey eyes were dark with emotion. ‘You do believe I love you, Flora?’

  In that moment she believed it. High with anticipation she did not want to cheapen the moment by thinking of the other women he had had, and that she just might after all be one in a line. She watched in a fever of impatience as he pulled on a sheath.

  His sigh was swallowed up as they kissed, and he stroked her trembling hips with unsteady hands as she strained the lower part of her body up to him. It had been so long and her need was so great that she could not wait for him to enter her. Her nails dug into his shoulder blades and she moaned as his fingers prepared her for his entry. He was so gentle but aroused her beautifully. Whispered words of love escaped
her as they joined, their bodies pulsating jerkily at first before quickly catching a rhythm. She could barely credit the pleasure he dispelled to all her limbs before he climaxed.

  Afterwards they drowsed, holding hands, and she pondered over how Mike had been able to satisfy her the first time. She had thought that only Tom, who had known her body intimately, could bring such satisfaction. Perhaps she was a wanton as he had said. The thought disturbed her almost as much as her desire for Mike. It was not going to be easy parting from him.

  They made love again, and again he asked her to marry him and was turned down. ‘I can’t love you enough,’ she cried in distress, ruffling her hair with an unsteady hand, and avoided his eyes. ‘Tom’s still in my heart.’

  He frowned at her. ‘Dammit, Flora, I think you do love me. After the time we’ve just had. It was so good!’

  ‘As good as all the other times with other women?’ She didn’t know why she said it.

  His generous mouth tightened. ‘They were before I met you. And never as good. And not once since –’

  ‘I believe you,’ she interrupted quickly, and put her arms round him. ‘Forgive me, Mike, but accept the inevitable. I have to go. I’ve got work in the morning.’

  ‘Give it a miss.’ The words were muffled against her hair.

  ‘I can’t,’ she said, pulling away from him.

  Despite her protestations he got up, and they walked through a Liverpool that seemed unreal to her in her new determined but melancholy mood. They halted under the lamp on the comer of her street, and for a moment neither of them made a move to part. Then she took a step away, only to have him pull her back. ‘I’m going to miss you like hell,’ he muttered, hugging her tightly to him.

  ‘And I’ll miss you.’ She was near to tears but she drew away from him determinedly. ‘There’s the wedding, of course,’ she said unevenly, kicking the bottom of the iron lamp post. ‘We’ll have to pretend we barely know each other. It won’t be easy. Our Hilda –’

  ‘She isn’t a patch on you and doesn’t deserve Tony, but she’d never have given the way you have tonight,’ he said roughly.

  ‘Don’t let’s talk about her now.’ Flora clutched at his lapels. ‘Tarrah, Mike.’ She kissed him hard and he responded just as forcefully. She had to tear herself out of his arms. There was a great ache in her chest and she ran up the street as if all the hounds of hell were on her heels. She wanted to look back for a final glimpse of him, but did not dare because ending it was hurting far more than she had thought it would.

  She let herself into a darkened house, allowing the tears to course down her cheeks. The fire was not quite out and the kettle was still warm. She drank a cup of warm water with sugar in it, great sobs wracking her body as she gazed with blurred vision at the grey embers of the fire.

  Eventually she regained control of herself but where her heart had been, it felt like there was an enormous stone. A shuddering sigh passed through her and she closed her eyes. It was over and that was that. Going to America with Mike was an impossible dream. They had had to say goodbye. The pain would pass. It wasn’t as if she had loved him to the same extent that she had Tom.

  She forced herself to think of Tom and gradually she dozed off – to dream that she and Mike were in a garden, and he was saying, ‘Frankly, I don’t think you give a damn about me, Flora.’

  ‘No, yes,’ she stammered, ‘maybe I’ll make up my mind tomorrow,’ But he had vanished in a swirling grey mist, leaving her lost and alone. And it was in her mind that something like this had happened before – in a film – and when she had seen it, she had known that Scarlett was making a terrible mistake in turning Rhett Butler away. And she woke up and cried again, knowing that breaking up with Mike was one of the worst things that she had had to do in her life.

  Chapter Eight

  Hilda entered Flora’s house in a whirl of slamming doors and clattering heels. Her expression was thunderous as she threw her handbag on a chair, and her coat at the hook on the door – only to miss it. She let it lie where it fell as she faced Flora, who was reading a story to the girls. ‘You sneaky, conniving bitch!’ Her fingers tore the book from her sister’s hand to fling it to the other side of the room. ‘You always were jealous of me, but I didn’t think that you were that evil that you’d spoil my chance of going to America!’

  Flora’s heart beat quickened in alarm. She pushed the girls away and sat up straighter. ‘Don’t call me names in front of the children,’ she said, determinedly calm. ‘If you’ve got anything to say you can wait until they’ve gone to bed.’

  Hilda’s face was dark with fury. ‘Is that what you did when you brought Mike to this house? You got rid of the kids upstairs? How could you see him without telling me?’ She almost choked on the words.

  Flora rose slowly, her expression wary. ‘I didn’t bring him here. He wouldn’t take no for an answer and insisted on coming to see me.’

  ‘I don’t believe you.’ Hilda’s fists clenched. ‘I suppose you’ll deny it’s you that he’s been seeing for weeks?’

  ‘No.’ Flora tilted her chin. ‘I was going to tell you that first day – only you went on about me not being any fun, and that he wouldn’t want my company. Well, you were wrong. He did!’

  ‘Ha!’ The exclamation came out like a pistol shot. ‘You expect me to believe that? You chased him, I bet!’ She slammed her fist down on the arm of the chair, causing Vivien and Rosie, staring wide-eyed at them both, to shoot under the table and crouch on the crossbars beneath. ‘I’m not such an idiot that I didn’t see you working on his sympathy as soon as you met him. But I thought him being married would put you off. It appears that I don’t know my own sister after all.’

  ‘He’s not married,’ murmured Flora, moving back against the table.

  Hilda gazed at her wildly. ‘What d’you mean – he’s not married? Of course he’s married. He told me so himself.’

  Flora bit on her lower lip hard. ‘He says that to put off the girls he thinks just see him as a ticket to America.’

  ‘You mean – he lied to me?’ Her face went scarlet. ‘The swine! The sneaky swine! How dare he lie to me and not you – and then do what he’s done! I wish I had his face in front of me right now – I’d smash it!’ She pulled off her shoe and flung it across the room. It bounced off the door. ‘I could do murder where he’s concerned. I hate him and I hate you. You!’ She whirled round. ‘What did he see in you? Maybe a little of me, and because I turned him down he went after you. It was the same with Tom – can’t you get a man of your own?’ she sneered. ‘Is it that you’ve always got to have my cast-offs? I bet he was talking about me all the time, wasn’t he?’

  ‘Like hell he was!’ Flora’s control snapped, her hands gripping the table behind her. She spoke in a furious voice. ‘The only time he spoke of you was in connection with Tony. He didn’t like what you were doing. He’d read you right and knew what you were after. He asked me to marry him – was prepared to take on the kids too! So why is it, dear sister, that you reckon men think I’m second best? Tom and I were really happy, but you’re always trying to undermine my confidence where he’s concerned. He found me perfectly satisfactory – for all you seem to hint that you’re the expert when it comes to being with a man in bed. And Mike found me just as satisfactory too!’

  ‘You and Mike!’ Hilda was now deathly white. ‘And you say Tom – Tom found you –’ She paused. ‘It shows how much you know!’ She slapped herself in the chest. ‘I slept with him! Even though he was married to you he wanted sex with me!’

  Flora felt as if she had been punched in the stomach. ‘I don’t believe you,’ she gasped. ‘You’re only saying that to hurt me!’

  ‘Am I?’ There was a gleam of triumph in Hilda’s eyes and a flush had darkened her cheeks again. ‘You’ll never know, will you, Flo? The dead don’t tell tales.’

  ‘Get out of my house.’ The colour had drained from Flora’s face.

  ‘Don’t worry, I’m going. You don’t think
I’d stay here now after what you’ve done?’ Hilda’s voice was harsh. ‘I’ll never forgive you for spoiling my chances. Call yourself a sister – I wouldn’t own you for one! I’m leaving and I’m never coming back.’ She swept up her shoe, bag and coat, and wrenching the door open went out. Her footsteps sounded angrily on the linoleum, and then the front door slammed shut.

  For several seconds all was silent in the kitchen, and then a cinder fell on the hearth. Flora stirred. At the same time the girls crept out of their hiding place. Vivien’s brown eyes were anxious. ‘Where’s Mam gone? She’s forgotten me.’ Flora made no answer, only reaching for both girls and pulling them close.

  Vivien was trembling. ‘Mam was very angry,’ she blurted out. ‘Is she cross with me?’

  ‘No, lamb. Only me.’ Flora hugged her tightly.

  ‘What’s sex, Mam?’ asked Rosie, looking at her curiously.

  Flora flushed. ‘Never you mind.’ She rubbed her chin against her daughter’s hair, determined not to allow herself to brood over what Hilda had said about her and Tom. But what had got into Mike to tell Tony after all this time?

  ‘I want my mam.’ Vivien’s eyes suddenly filled with tears.

  ‘She said she wasn’t coming back,’ murmured Rosie, leaning against her mother and watching Vivien’s face. ‘And if she does maybe she’ll be a murderer, because she said she wanted to kill Mike.’

  A howl escaped Vivien that set Flora’s teeth on edge. She lifted the child off her feet and carried her to the sofa. ‘Hush, Viv, that won’t bring her back. You can have some cocoa, and then I’ll take you to bed and tell you another story. And when you wake – well, tomorrow’s another day.’

  ‘Will Mam come?’ sobbed Vivien, rubbing her face against Flora’s cardigan.

  ‘She might.’ Flora did not want Hilda returning and doubted she would. If her sister could consider going all the way to America without Viv, then she was not going to worry about her now. There was a hard core of cold anger inside her as she soothed Vivien. Eventually the child calmed down and they went to bed. George banged on the door just as Flora came downstairs. She did not have the heart to scold him but sent him straight to bed. The morning would be soon enough to tell him what had happened.