‘Of course I trust you, that’s not what I meant. I was simply telling you what Nora Snell had said and . . .’
‘Nora Snell’s opinion, or Scobey’s cross-eyed visions, cut no ice with me, though I’m quite sure you must have encouraged the gossip.’
‘What?’
‘I shall have to punish you for this. I’ve no wish to, Sara, not in the least, but I really can’t have you spreading gossip about me, telling people I go out to sea at night, with or without Iris.’
‘But I’m not spreading gossip, I’m merely sharing a piece of amusing tittle-tattle with you. We all know that Nora is an old busybody, though she works hard enough for the town. There’s talk of her being mayor next year. But nobody listens to her malice, or takes her gossip seriously, so why should you?’
‘Because you obviously do.’
‘I don’t. I knew, of course, that Iris couldn’t possibly be with you. And what on earth do you mean by punish me? I’m not a naughty schoolgirl,’ and she gave a little laugh.
‘I won’t have the likes of Nora Snell sharpening her claws on me, or you allowing her to. Perhaps if you are deprived of transport for a week or two, then in future you’ll make more effort to nip such nastiness in the bud.’
Sara sat down, her knees suddenly feeling very weak. ‘Deprived of transport? You’re going to stop me using the car because of what Nora Snell said?’
‘I cannot control Nora Snell’s tongue. But I can control yours because you are my wife. You cannot use the car for two weeks - no, a month. Perhaps then you’ll learn to be more circumspect.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Hugh. I’ve done nothing wrong.’
‘I will be obeyed in this.’
‘You can’t do that. I need the car if I’m to properly organise Salute the Soldier week. And I’m still involved in collecting salvage and wool for the WVS. You know that they depend upon me.’
‘Then they’ll be disappointed and will be forced to make other arrangements. In fact I think it would be for the best if you handed in your resignation. That will show Nora Snell where her nastiness has got her, and how very unreliable you are, and she’ll then have to find someone else to do her dirty work.’
‘But I’m not. Unreliable, I mean. And I really don’t mind helping her. I’ve no wish to resign. Hugh, this is all getting completely out of hand.’
But he only turned and walked away into the stock room, the discussion closed. ‘You spend far too much time doing things for other people, and you haven’t even begun to make supper. The children are out playing God knows where. Your place is here, looking after me and being a proper mother. One minute you complain that you have too much work to do, the next not enough, and all because I won’t allow you behind the bar. I really don’t understand you.’
Sara was almost weeping by this time, appalled by where her lack of faith in him had led. ‘Perhaps I am a little jealous of Iris because she gets all the fun bits, working with you, and talking to people in the pub, while I just get the cleaning and cooking.’
He rounded on her, his eyes dark and angry. ‘Oh, we’re back to that complaint are we, that you get no fun? I believe it was you doing the flirting, with those dratted Yanks. I was entirely justified in my suspicions, and in banning you from the bar, while yours are not.’
Sara couldn’t allow him to get away with that. She had to protest. ‘But Iris is so often away from the bar on the same nights as you, sometimes for days at a time, also like you. Are you trying to tell me that you’re not together during those periods?’
She thought that she detected a flicker of panic behind the cold eyes, but then it was gone in an instant, as if she’d imagined it. When had Hugh ever panicked or felt in the least bit insecure?
‘I thought I’d made it clear that what I do is not open for discussion.’
‘Yes but, Iris . . .’
‘Is a work colleague. If Nora Snell has seen her in my boat, so be it. Unfortunate perhaps but it was for an entirely innocent reason. You’ll have to trust me on that.’
‘Are you saying Iris is involved with the coast-guard service too?’
His patience finally ran out and he snapped at her. ‘Questions, questions, endless bloody questions. Haven’t I told you that the kind of work I do is not your concern. Leave it at that, Sara.’
Sara flew about the small kitchen finding frying pan, sausages and tomatoes, frantically peeling potatoes, flushed with embarrassment as Hugh droned on and on, listing her faults and inadequacies. All about how she was becoming utterly paranoiac, and seeing problems everywhere. Was this true? Was she paranoiac, imagining problems where there were none?
Or was this all hot air and Hugh really was having an affair?
It certainly seemed an unlikely coupling, a flighty young barmaid and a mature man with precious little in the way of a sense of humour. Sara stifled a small hysterical giggle at the thought. Yet how could she be certain? Could she trust him? Could one trust any man confronted night after night by the likes of pretty, curvaceous, Iris Logan.
It was all very puzzling. First he claimed Nora Snell is nothing but a nasty old gossip, now he is practically admitting that yes, Iris may well have been with him on the boat, but that they were working! Presumably for the coastguard. Then why hadn’t he told her this before?
Surely it was perfectly understandable if she was just the tiniest bit anxious?
Later, as Hugh tucked into sausage and mash, a dribble of brown sauce on his chin, he told her in forbidding tones, ‘You will resign from the committee, forthwith. You can safely leave winning the war to we men. It’s not women’s business at all.’
Sara knew she should meekly agree and accept what he said. This had been the worst quarrel she could ever remember them having, and he expected her to apologise and agree to his terms. It’s what she would have done in the past, but somehow she kept thinking of Charlie telling her what a fine woman she was; how gifted and clever she was to manage things so well, so that somehow she couldn’t quite manage it. She had to speak out.
‘Oh, but women are involved in this war, Hugh. You can’t deny that.’
Hugh glared at her and almost laughed at loud. He certainly couldn’t deny it. Just watching Iris issuing orders to French fishermen, secret agents, and undercover men from the Royal Navy made him breathless with excitement. He’d never realised that female power could be such a turn on. But Iris was different.
‘No dear, not women like you, with no brains in their heads. Now run along and find the children, then get on with baking pasties, mopping the floor, or whatever little tasks you have to do before opening time, and let me eat my dinner in peace.’
Sadie had taken Barney to her heart. ‘Such a nice boy,’ she kept saying. ‘Not like that other one.’ And it didn’t matter how many times Bette reminded her that she’d never even met Chad, Sadie was completely smitten and there was an end to the matter.
So was Bette. Despite a strong sense of disloyalty towards Chad, she was very attracted to him. Barney was fun. Exciting. Dangerous!
She never took him to Whitehouse, that had been special for her and Chad; a daft place to have a cuddle anyway, so near to the Pillbox. They’d go for a walk or to the flicks of course, but on a cold evening he was content to sit happily by the fire and then join the family for supper.
Cory loved to talk to him about fishing and one evening, her father proudly showed off his prize rabbits. ‘I started keeping them for the war effort, do you see? You get one shilling and sixpence a pound for the meat.’
‘You sell them to the butcher, do you?’ Barney asked with interest.
Cory sucked thoughtfully on his pipe. ‘Not yet, I haven’t, but I could if I wanted. If I needed the money.’
‘Aren’t they expensive to keep?’
‘No, they’m happy with potato peelings, soaked bread crusts and cabbage leaves. Proper job. Costs us next to nothing.’ He was tickling one under its ear as he explained all of this. ‘Bit of grass they do like
, or hay. Cheap enough to feed.’
Barney nodded. ‘And in return you get rabbit pie whenever you feel like it.’
A slight panic came into Cory’s eyes and Bette put a hand to her mouth to hide a smile. To her certain knowledge not one rabbit had been killed and skinned, nor ever would be. ‘Not yet, we haven’t. But it’s a possibility, if we ever got really hungry.’
To his credit, Barney’s mouth didn’t twitch a muscle as he answered with all seriousness, ‘Good thinking.’
Barney Willert had turned out to be a far more interesting and perceptive person than he’d seemed at first sight. But he still couldn’t resist bragging that American rabbits were bigger but then, that was Barney.
Chapter Nineteen
Barney and Bette were dancing cheek to cheek. He was breathing softly against her ear, stroking her back as they swayed together and Bette found herself nestling closer. She loved their Friday nights out at the Armoury best of all their times together, looked forward to them all week. This was where she most liked to be, in his arms.
The music ended and he let her go quite abruptly, looking around with a dazed expression in his eyes, as if he didn’t wish to be seen anywhere near her, or as if he could hardly bear to touch her. Why was that, she wondered?
‘What’s wrong?’ she asked. ‘Something is, I can tell.’
‘Let’s go outside. We need to talk.’
They strolled down the lane, the scent of damp earth and new grass strong in their nostrils and somewhere in the distance, the thin whistle of a train and a hiss of steam as it drew out of the station.
‘You’ve been cool with me all evening. What is it? Don’t you like me any more?’
‘Sure I do, but you ain’t my girl and I have to keep reminding myself of that fact. I really don’t think I can go on like this, Bette. I can’t see you any more.’
Bette was appalled. She couldn’t begin to imagine what her week, her life, would be like without him. Ever since Chad’s letters had stopped Barney had become the entire focus of her existence. ‘Not see me any more? But why? I’m sure Chad wouldn’t object to us keeping each other company while he’s away. Anyway, he won’t have to mind, will he? If he truly cared, he’d find some way to write to me, censor or no censor.’
There were tears in her eyes, in her voice, though quite why she couldn’t exactly be sure. Did she weep for Chad or at the thought of losing Barney? He slipped an arm about her shoulders and drew her close.
‘Hey, don’t take on. Chad is a lucky guy to have you waiting for him when he comes home. He’ll be the one smooching you then and I’m gonna have to pretend I don’t care, when really I do. You have a funny sort of effect on me, Bette.’
He was holding her much closer than he usually did, and she could feel the urgency of his need. Bette was young and lonely enough to feel some of his excitement transmit itself to her. ‘Do I? What sort of effect?’
In truth, Barney’s patience was wearing thin. He was a soldier, after all, and she was a pretty girl. He didn’t believe in platonic friendships. That had never been part of his plan. He wanted her, and he meant to have her.
He was kissing her brow, her eyes, nipping her mouth with soft, teasing kisses, making her feel all giddy and slightly breathless.
‘I dunno, can’t seem to get you out of my head.’
Bette giggled, rather tickled by this. ‘That sounds like a song title.’
‘I’m serious. England is a cold, wet place, so small you could lose it in North Carolina. You have funny money, you queue for sausages which taste of sawdust and you pull a chain when you go to the John. I’d hate it, if it weren’t for you, sugar. When I’m with you I find I’m kinda different – maybe even better than the real me, ya know?’
‘Oh yes, I do see that.’
‘You make me behave like this, all decent and respectable.’
‘Goodness,’ gasped Bette, her expression mock serious. ‘How very remiss of me.’
‘Don’t tease, I can’t handle it. If you were any other girl, I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off of you. I’d be after getting you in the sack, Chad or no Chad.’
His hands seemed quite unable to let go of her right now. One was slipping under her blouse, smoothing her bare skin, sending little shivers of excitement racing down her spine.
‘But you’re Chad’s girl and therefore untouchable. I made a big mistake that first time because I really didn’t care then. Now I do. I care a lot about you, Bette.’
‘Do you?’ It was the first time she’d heard him use her name.
‘Sure. I couldn’t be so selfish and arrogant with you now. But you want me too, I know you do, deep down.’
His mouth had found her throat and Bette let out a small groan of pleasure. ‘Oh, Barney, it’s true. I like you too. I’ve even found myself wishing that I wasn’t Chad’s girl, that I was yours. I’m never quite sure which of you I’m dreaming about. What are we going to do?’
There was a moment’s silence, then his arms tightened about her as he buried his face in her hair, half of him transfixed by the sweet scent of her, the other part wondering where he might find a dry patch of grass. ‘Maybe we’ll get lucky and Chad will find himself another gal while he’s in Devon, huh?’
‘Oh, do you think that’s likely?’ Bette wasn’t certain that this thought pleased her, yet as Barney led her into the woods, still kissing her, nibbling her ear and his hands doing things they really oughtn’t, she felt half dazed with longing and hoped he might nod or say that yes, he had already. At least then she’d know where she stood. ‘He hasn’t written and said so, has he? Because if you know something I don’t, I’d much rather you told me the truth, the whole truth.’
Barney was pushing her down into the long grass. ‘I’ve heard nothing more than you. Wish I had. I don’t know what’s happened to him. It’s a mystery.’
Bette felt a draught of cool air on her breasts, and then the warmth of his hands, which made her gasp. When did he unbutton her blouse? She really shouldn’t be doing this but it was far too late to stop him now. The blood was pounding in her ears. She was young, hot with need and surrender seemed somehow inevitable.
The following week, when next she saw Barney she could tell at once that he had news. ‘You’ve heard something, haven’t you? He’s back, isn’t he? He’s written you a letter saying he’s coming home. We’ll have to stop seeing each other, is that it?’
Barney’s eyes didn’t quite meet hers. ‘Right after we’d talked last week, I gotta letter from his mom.’
‘Saying what? That he’s married, got himself a new girl, what?’ She was frantic to know, impatient with his slowness to explain. Still he didn’t answer and something about his silence chilled her. ‘He is ok, isn’t he? What have you heard? For God’s sake, tell me.’
Barney rubbed a hand over his chin. ‘I don’t know how. It ain’t easy.’
‘Get on with it, please.’ Bette felt as if every muscle were turning to liquid fire and yet she felt terribly, dreadfully cold.
‘His mom was wanting news, as we all are, so I asked to see the major, just to see if maybe he could find something out. This afternoon, he sent for me and told me that Chad Jackson has been reported as missing in action, presumed killed. I’m sorry, sugar, but that’s how it is.’
Somebody screamed, shouting that it couldn’t be true, that it was all a lie, that Chad would be safe home next week, next month. Only when Bette struck out at him and Barney grabbed her by the wrists to stop her from hitting him, desperately trying to calm her, did she realise that the terrible sounds were coming out of her own mouth. Only then did the all-consuming anger leave her, as abruptly as it had come, and she fell into his arms in tears.
She’d known of course, that it would come to this. In her heart she’d known all along that he was dead. How could he not be? If Chad had been alive anywhere in the world, he’d have found some way to contact her. ‘And do you know the worst thing of all?’ Bette said, as she sat under the
trees in station woods, huddled in Barney’s arms, trying to warm herself and stop this dreadful shaking as she struggled to digest the awful truth that Chad was gone.
‘What?’
‘I grieve for him, of course I do, but not as much as I would if I didn’t have you. I love you both. Isn’t that terrible?’
He seemed to go very still, then he gripped her hard by the arms, gave her a little shake, so that Bette was certain there’d be bruises there tomorrow. ‘What the hell are you saying, girl? That you love me?’
‘Yes. Of course I do. I do, I do.’
They fell back into the long grass and made love this time with a wild passion, a frantic, desperate need as if to prove that life still pulsated through their veins, at least. To Bette, it meant that she could endorse her words with every touch, every kiss, and in a burst of emotional tears at her climax.
To Barney it was a physical necessity, the needs of a soldier on the eve of war.
Afterwards, Bette lay in his arms and wept again, this time for Chad. ‘I did love him once. He was sweet and kind, a bit awkward and shy, but so caring.’
‘Best buddy a guy could have. I’ll miss him.’
A small silence and then, ‘There is just one other small problem that perhaps I should mention.’
He was stroking her hair as she lay with her head on his chest, surreptitiously glancing at his watch as he did so, to check if there was time for another round. ‘What’s that, sugar?’
‘I’m pregnant, and the awful thing is, I don’t know which of you is the father.’
‘It’s very good of you to give me a lift,’ Sara said as Charles Denham pulled up in his jeep. ‘I’m on one of my missions to collect prizes and stuff for the fête. I’ve pestered everyone in Fowey enough, so thought I’d try Golant, Lostwithiel and Lerryn. They often like to join up with our events. Good job I’m not collecting salvage. You certainly wouldn’t want a load of old newspapers or bottles in an army vehicle.’
For All Our Tomorrows Page 15
