by S Block
She could not bring herself to tell Alison about what she now thought of as her moment of lunacy with Annie. That she had gone behind Nick’s back while he risked his life, betraying him with a woman he considered to be a trusted friend. Annie had meant more to her than she could bear to think, but she had made her choice; she had chosen a life with Nick, and she had to be true to him.
‘You’re happy, though?’ Alison persisted.
‘I couldn’t wish for a better man than Nick,’ Teresa said. ‘Sometimes I wonder what I did right to deserve someone as special. Like you, I consider myself extremely fortunate. ’
As the extravaganza began to wind down, they left the village hall together.
‘I’ll walk you home,’ Alison said.
‘There’s no need – it’s the opposite direction for you. ’
‘I’d like to make sure you get back safely. ’
Teresa laughed. ‘You’re as bad as Nick – he ’d have me wrapped in cotton wool if he could. I know the baby’s due soon, but I am still perfectly capable. ’
Alison only smiled.
‘I love this time of year,’ she said, linking her arm through Teresa’s as they walked. ‘Even on a day like today when it’s grey and there’s no sun to be seen, autumn bursts with colour. ’ She bent and picked up a leaf that was a rich shade of reddish brown. ‘Do you know, I collected leaves when I was a child, kept them in a bowl on the windowsill in my bedroom. ’
‘It was conkers with me,’ Teresa said, laughing. ‘There was an enormous horse chestnut not far from us. I always had one in my pocket, a bit like a talisman. If I felt anxious I’d reach for it and say a quick prayer. ’ She smiled as they stopped briefly outside the butcher’s. The awning had gone up outside the new shop now. ‘You can’t even tell there was a fire,’ said Teresa. ‘When I was in the other day, Miriam told me they’re still on course to open in time for Christmas. ’
‘They had a lucky escape,’ Alison said. ‘I always get the impression Miriam thinks they’re shielded by Providence in some way. ’
‘She must have something better than a conker in her pocket,’ Teresa joked.
They were nearing Teresa’s home now, and Alison frowned. ‘Is that car stopping outside your house?’
Teresa watched as a young man in uniform stepped from the driver’s seat and went round to open the rear passenger door. ‘Oh, no,’ she said, watching as a man stepped out. ‘It’s Nick’s group captain. Michael Buey. Awful man. He’s a bore and a snob with a wife to match. We had them round for dinner and now they want to return the favour. ’ She sighed. ‘I suppose I’d better speak to him. ’
Alison watched Group Captain Buey knock at the door while his driver waited at the side of the car. Something didn’t feel right. ‘I’ll come with you,’ she said, feeling a sudden tightness in her stomach.
‘I warn you, he’s a crashing bore,’ Teresa said. She turned up the path to the house. ‘Group Captain,’ she said, ‘this is unexpected. ’
He turned to face her, removing his cap. ‘Mrs Lucas. ’
The tone of his voice was grave, and at once the purpose of his visit became apparent. Teresa’s smile slid away, cold fear on the back of her neck. She had an urge to run and shut herself inside the house before Michael Buey was able to say the words she could not stand to hear, the words that would end her life as she knew it.
Panic rose inside her and she began to shake. I just need to get inside. Get away before he has a chance to speak. But Michael Buey was in the way, barring her escape. She felt an urge to strike him, knock him off his feet.
‘I’m so very sorry . . . ’ he began.
‘No. No. ’ Alison’s grip on her arm tightened as Teresa backed away, her hands over her ears. ‘Don’t – don’t. ’ She felt light-headed, felt her legs give way beneath her.
Alison had hold of her with both hands now and struggled to support her. When Teresa collapsed Alison went with her, the two of them on their knees on the cold ground.
Chapter 34
‘I
T WAS A TRAINING FLIGHT,’ Frances said. ‘There was some kind of problem as they were coming back in to land – they don’t yet know what. Nick was thrown clear. He was dead by the time they got to him. ’
‘I just don’t understand. ’ Sarah’s voice shook. ‘He was an excellent pilot, one of the best. ’
Frances sighed. She had arrived with the news earlier, aware of how fond Sarah and Adam had been of Nick, keen to bring them up to date. The three of them were in the living room now, a tray of tea untouched on the table in front of them.
‘He wasn’t actually flying. It was another pilot, a much younger man,’ Frances explained. She ’d gone with Alison, on Teresa’s behalf, to the RAF station at Tabley Wood, and spoken to Group Captain Buey, in the hope he might be able to furnish them with more details – but in the end they’d been able to ascertain little. Until its final moments, Nick’s flight had gone according to plan. It was simply an exercise, the sort of thing that took place every day, in itself nothing out of the ordinary. What went wrong had yet to be determined. It was probably mechanical failure, engine trouble, something mundane and awful. The plane had hit the ground with considerable force and burst into flames, the young man trapped inside the cockpit consumed by the fire. There wasn’t much left of him, Buey told them, looking grim. If it was of any consolation, Nick, at least, was still able to be recognised.
‘He lived with us. ’ Sarah was tearful. ‘We knew him. This war . . . it seems intent on taking our best people. ’
Adam bowed his head, thinking not only of Nick but of Eddie. Eddie, who ’d kept him going in Norway in his darkest moments, who ’d come within striking distance of safety only to lose his life when the escape craft carrying them across the North Sea came under German fire. Without Eddie, Adam would never have made it home. He wouldn’t be here now with Sarah, hearing about yet another tragedy. One more senseless loss. Eddie first, and now Nick.
Our best people.
‘How’s Teresa?’ Adam said.
Frances shook her head. ‘Alison’s with her a lot of the time and Dr Rosen’s going in every day. Erica’s been a tower of strength. ’ Erica knew all too well what it was to have an RAF officer at the door, bringing the kind of news no one wanted to receive. Her daughter, Kate, had lost her husband, Jack, within weeks of them being married. He was another pilot killed during what was meant to be a routine training flight.
Sarah was thinking about the baby Teresa was soon to have, a child who would now be born into a world that had suddenly and irrevocably changed. Its father was gone, its mother grieving. Teresa was due to give birth early in the New Year, just a few weeks away. Was it long enough, Sarah wondered, for Teresa to begin to emerge from the darkness now enveloping her and be ready to embrace motherhood?
‘What about the baby?’ she asked Frances.
‘She spent a night in hospital and was thoroughly checked over,’ Frances said. ‘And Dr Rosen’s keeping a close eye. But, for now, everything’s as it should be. ’
No, it’s not, thought Sarah solemnly. Nothing is as it should be. Sarah was deep in thought, her mind whirling. The idea that Nick was dead seemed inconceivable. Nick, so bright and upbeat and alive. Nick, about to be a father. It made no sense. Why is it that some die and others are spared? Who decides? How can it be fair? She was asking herself questions she knew to be absurd. No one decides. Such things happen. In her heart she understood the random nature of life and death. And yet—
She reached across the table for Adam’s hand. It seemed even more impossible, even more of a miracle, that Adam could be home, alive, after what he had been through, when Nick had died on a training flight.
It was one thing to be shot down by the enemy, another to die because the plane had suffered a ‘mechanical failure’ during what should have been an uneventful exercise. The explanation seemed flimsy, Nick’s death abhorrent. It was a waste
of a good life – a good man.
She glanced at Adam and at Frances, both lost in their own thoughts, and stopped short of saying what she was thinking. Perhaps she was wrong to rail at the circumstances. All that mattered was that Nick was dead.
Another casualty of war.
‘What happens now?’ Sarah asked.
‘He’ll be buried in the Midlands, where his family is,’ Frances said. ‘He’s from a village by the name of Kibworth Beauchamp. There’s a family plot in the churchyard there. Teresa leaves in the morning. ’
‘I’d like to see her before she goes,’ Sarah said.
‘I’ll come with you,’ Adam said. ‘Nick was a friend, I’d like to pay my respects. ’
Sarah threw him an anxious look. In a short space of time, he was looking much better. Sleep and food were doing their work. Already, he had gained a little weight – but he was still in the early stages of recovery, and quite how well his mind was healing was less easy to determine. The last thing Sarah wanted to do was risk the progress he had made so far. Her instinct was to spare him from anything that might bring his own recent trauma to the surface once more.
‘There’s no need for both of us to go,’ she said gently. ‘Teresa doesn’t even know you’re here, she won’t be expecting to see you. And anyway, I can’t help but worry . . . ’ Adam waited for her to go on, and she looked away. ‘It might set you back. ’
‘I can’t spend the rest of my life avoiding anything that might upset me,’ Adam said, with a sad smile.
‘It just feels . . . too soon. Once people know you’re here, they’re going to want to see you. ’ She gave him a meaningful look. ‘At the house. In church. As their vicar. Are you sure that’s what you want? Are you ready to have the needs of the village laid in front of you? Because that’s what will happen. ’
‘In all honesty, I’m not sure how much longer you’ll manage to keep your presence a secret,’ Frances said. ‘It’s obvious Joyce knows, and I very much doubt the rest of the village will be far behind her. It’s too small a place to keep anything secret for long. It would be better to make an appearance, perhaps, than let things reach the point where people know you’re here and question why you’re choosing to avoid them. The reasons for your seclusion could be misinterpreted and result in hurt feelings. ’
‘I was thinking the same thing,’ Adam said. ‘This feels to me like the right moment to get back into the community and do some good if I can, albeit in a small way. Teresa’s in a dark place, and I’d like her at least to know she’s in my prayers. ’
Sarah looked at him, surprised. There ’d been no mention of prayer since the conversation they ’d had in which Adam admitted to being in the grip of a catastrophic crisis of faith.
‘I’m sure she’ll appreciate it,’ Frances said. ‘She’s in shock, as you ’d expect. Alison’s hardly been able to get a word out of her. ’
Adam took Sarah’s hand. ‘We’ll go together,’ he said. ‘In all conscience, I can’t just sit here and do nothing. ’
Chapter 35
A
LISON THOUGHT THE BEST thing to do was postpone her marriage to John. She couldn’t imagine making arrangements for a wedding when Teresa was about to bury her husband. It felt wrong, disrespectful somehow. John was a little disappointed, she could tell, but he understood. They would wait, he said, if that was what she wanted.
At the same time, he did not think that Teresa would want them to put their happiness on hold. Nick’s death had served as yet another stark reminder of the fleeting, sometimes heartless nature of life. It was made worse, too, that the news had arrived at the cruellest moment, just as Nick and Teresa looked forward to having their first child. They had been planning for a future that would now never come.
‘Might not the best way of honouring Nick be to make the most of whatever time we have?’ John suggested gently. ‘To cherish each and every second and take nothing for granted?’
Frances, who had shown not a flicker of surprise when Alison told her that she and John intended to be married, said much the same thing. ‘You’re closer to Teresa than anyone. I honestly think the last thing she ’d want is for you to abandon your wedding plans. I can see why you’d want to but, sadly, it won’t change anything. ’
Frances told Alison she thought she might have a dress that could be made into a suitable wedding outfit. She was thinking of the oyster-pink Schiaparelli evening gown she had intended to donate to the extravaganza. ‘Sarah persuaded me not to give it away,’ she said, ‘even though it’s something I’ll never have occasion to wear again. She must have had an inkling it would one day be of some use to one of my dear friends. ’
Alison was taken aback when she saw the dress. ‘It’s so beautiful,’ she said, ‘but I couldn’t possibly take it. ’
‘Nonsense. ’ Frances held the gown up in front of Alison and gave her an appraising look. ‘The colour suits you very well, and I shall never wear it again. I ’d much rather it found a use than spent the rest of its days out of sight at the back of my wardrobe. ’
*
Pat agreed to alter the dress and produced a sketch for Alison. It showed a hemline that ended just below the knee, a belt, perhaps with a bow detail. From the swathes of spare fabric in the skirt she proposed to create an entirely new bodice with a sweetheart neckline and puff sleeves. The back of the dress, which was fastened with a row of pretty pearl buttons, would stay as it was.
‘Can you really do all that?’ Alison asked, impressed.
‘It’s actually more straightforward than you might think,’ Pat told her.
Alison struggled to see how. They were in Pat’s spare room, now filled with sewing paraphernalia, and Alison was in the process of trying on the dress for the first time.
‘I’m nervous at the thought of taking the scissors to such a beautiful garment,’ Alison said, as Pat did up the fiddly little buttons at the back. ‘It must have cost a fortune, more than I dare imagine. It seems, I don’t know, sacrilege, to cut it up. ’
Pat smiled. ‘Let me worry about that. Just remember, if it weren’t for you, this fabulous dress would be left to languish in the back of a wardrobe, probably never worn again. Surely that would be sacrilege. ’ She stood back for a moment and gazed at Alison. ‘It suits you, you know. You could easily carry it off exactly as it is. ’
Alison laughed. ‘If I was attending a glamorous ball rather than a modest wedding at my local registry office, I might consider it. ’
‘Well, I’m very happy for you,’ Pat said. ‘For both of you. ’
‘We’ve been so careful about keeping things private, and yet none of my friends has seemed in the least bit surprised to hear that we’re getting married. ’
‘I must admit, I had an idea you were . . . close,’ Pat said. ‘The day I came round to tell you about Gwen Talbot’s son, I saw the way you were with each other, how concerned you felt for John. There was a tenderness about it, rather more than I’d have expected a landlady to have for her lodger. ’
Alison’s eyes shone. ‘I think I sensed something between us from the first moment we met. I don’t mean romantically, exactly, more a feeling that here was someone I had something in common with. As if we were already familiar on some level when, in fact, I knew almost nothing about him. Does that sound ludicrous?’
Pat shook her head. She understood exactly what Alison meant, had felt the same about Marek – as if she knew it was safe to trust him right from the off. He was a man of his word.
‘I always felt something for John,’ Alison went on, ‘although for a long time I was afraid to admit it, even to myself. ’
‘You were seeking to protect yourself, perhaps,’ Pat told her. Her thoughts had strayed to Teresa and Nick. ‘Once we allow ourselves to love, we open ourselves up to the possibility of loss. The two go hand in hand. ’
Alison nodded. She seemed to know what was in Pat’s mind. After a moment she
said, ‘Sometimes, I just don’t know what to say to help Teresa. It’s as if she’s retreated behind a wall and I can’t find a way of reaching her. She seems utterly numb. ’ She sighed. ‘I feel worse than useless. ’
‘Without warning, everything has changed for her in the worst way imaginable,’ Pat said. ‘The life she had before is over. The future she imagined is gone. I doubt she can even think straight. But in time, she’ll find a way of getting through this, and you’ll be there to help her. ’
‘When George was killed in the last war I remember thinking I’d never recover. The idea of life without him was beyond imagining. I wasn’t sure I’d survive, or even if I wanted to. I think I expected to gradually fade away and cease to exist. It seems incredible now to think there were moments when I didn’t want to live. ’ She gestured at the gown she was wearing. ‘Look at me now – about to be married, happy. I’d never have believed it. ’
‘We find a way of moving on,’ Pat said. ‘We decide against squandering our lives because we understand the value of being here. It’s how we honour our loved ones. ’
She was thinking of Marek again. She was almost certain now that he must have been lost to the war. If he was, she might never know. No one would come to her door with news of any kind. All she could do was accept there was no longer any possibility of what Frances called their ‘happy ever after’ and get on with her life.
It tore at her heart, and yet she had not a single regret. Marek had taught her what it meant to love and be loved, created lasting memories that were safe inside her heart for all time. He had shown her that a relationship did not have to be all anger and cruelty, as Bob and hers had been, that there was a potential for happiness, for respect, for real love, in her life. While she mourned his loss, she also felt his presence at her side, on the walks they had once taken together, in her writing each time she put pen to paper. The letter she had begun so long ago had, over time, become a powerful testament to their love; to love itself. Soon, all that they felt for one another would be immortalised in print. He was part of her in all she did, now and always. It was almost enough.
