by June Tate
Beth and Jenny exchanged puzzled glances. What would happen now?
The animal, it seemed, was just as mystified. It pranced and trotted about, then stopped, looked around, neighed loudly, and slowly walked the perimeter of the practice ring, casting the odd glance at the quiet figure in the centre, until it finally stopped still.
Chad rose slowly to his feet. The horse immediately tossed its head and backed up. Staying in the centre of the ring, Chad took a few steps to one side, and after some time the horse moved towards him. Chad retraced his steps, and the animal immediately moved back.
This strange procedure continued until Chad had the animal moving in any direction he required. Progressively the horse calmed down and seemed to be enjoying this strange ritual; it was only then that Chad slowly approached it and stroked its neck, talking softly the whole time. After some time, he walked away, and the animal followed him. When he turned and walked in a different direction, so did the horse. Chad kept this up for half an hour and then finally stopped, his back towards the horse. The animal came slowly closer until it placed its head over Chad’s shoulder, snorting softly.
Chad stroked its nose, talking softly as he did so. Then he walked over to the fence and picked up a saddle. He walked slowly towards the horse, talking softly all the time, and very slowly placed the saddle over its back, which unsettled it a little, but Chad just kept talking as he tightened the girth. Then, gathering the reins together, he placed one foot into the stirrup and hauled himself into the saddle.
All those who were watching held their breaths. Chad gave a little pressure with his heels and the horse moved forward. Chad rode him round the ring several times, then he stopped him and changed direction; the animal answered every demand of the rider.
Chad trotted him, put him into a canter, then a gallop and finally a walk, bringing the horse to a standstill. He climbed out of the saddle, stroked the long neck, talking all the time. Then he caught hold of the horse’s mane and, twisting it and the neck, eased the horse down on two knees and, ultimately, on its side.
The onlookers were astonished when Chad then sat on the prostrate animal. He continued stroking it, murmuring all the time, until he got off, and he let the animal stand for a moment before leading him – calm, docile and obedient – back to the stall. It was as if he were a different horse entirely.
The three women followed, awed by what they had seen.
When Beth and the groom went about their work, Jenny spoke to Chad. ‘That was amazing!’
He smiled at her. ‘Not really. An animal is very much like a woman. It thrives on attention, consideration, a firm hand – but above all love.’
Jenny didn’t know what to say.
Chad caught hold of her hand. ‘All the things that are lacking in your life, I believe, Mrs Procter.’
She gazed into his eyes, eyes that showed no guile, and wondered just what it was about this man that seemed to give him the right to look into her soul.
She removed her hand. ‘And if you are correct . . . and I do say if . . . what’s to be done about it?’
‘That would be entirely up to you. Go away and think about it. We’ll talk some more tomorrow. You will be here, won’t you?’
‘Yes, I’ll be here,’ she said, then left the stables, somewhat mystified.
When, eventually, Jenny returned home and walked into the kitchen, Adam appeared at the door. ‘Where the hell have you been?’
‘I beg your pardon?’ Jenny’s hackles rose at the dictatorial tone in his voice.
‘When I woke up you were nowhere to be seen. No note, no nothing!’
‘You were fast asleep, and I left early. I expected to be back long before now.’
‘Where were you, anyway?’
‘I was at the stables watching a man break in a horse.’
His look of astonishment was almost comical. ‘You thought that was more important than being with your husband, who has been away for three years?’
Jenny stared at the outraged man before her and thought: how on earth have we stayed together so long? Chad’s words echoed in her head. ‘As a matter of fact . . . yes! This man at the stables is extraordinary, and I will probably never see the way he works ever again. It was an experience not to be missed. In fact, I shall be going back tomorrow morning to see him finish his work!’
Adam, for once, was speechless. He stomped around the kitchen, then stopped and looked at Jenny. ‘I don’t know what’s got into you. Ever since I’ve been home, you’ve been different. You’ve changed beyond recognition.’
‘Well, I can’t say the same for you, Adam! Apart from looking older and a bit more careworn – which is not surprising, under the circumstances – as soon as you settled in you became the same overbearing man who left here three years ago, but now I’m not prepared to put up with it.’ Seeing the anger and bewilderment on his face, she did feel some sympathy for him. After all, he had been involved in a war, and he didn’t need another one in his own home.
‘Sit down,’ she said. To her surprise he did so. ‘Look, Adam, three years is a long time. I’ve had to make a life for myself. I belong to lots of committees, I help Beth whenever I can, I am a different person.’
‘Undoubtedly!’
She ignored this. ‘Yes, I am still your wife, and of course I want to spend time with you, but I can’t stop all the other things I have to do because you are here.’
He didn’t like this one bit. ‘A woman’s place is with her husband, looking after his needs.’
‘I am your wife, not a damned servant!’ Now Jenny was angry. ‘I have seen to your every need for years – with little reward, I might add! You took me for granted – Jenny do this, Jenny I want that – but now you will have to consider my needs for once!’ Having vented her spleen, she capitulated. ‘Adam, I am so very happy that you’re home, and I do want to spend time with you, of course I do, but we both are leading different lives. That’s what a war does to people. We just have to compromise, that’s all.’
She gave a half smile. ‘In all honesty, I find it strange having you around again. Three years is a long time for us to be apart, you must realize this?’
He suddenly looked weary and, rubbing his forehead, said, ‘Of course I understand. As I was driven back here, I wondered how it would be between us. I just wanted everything to be as I remembered, that’s all.’
She then realized that he, too, had been unsettled, but in his usual way had hidden his feelings. ‘Come on, I’ll pour us a couple of stiff drinks, cook the dinner, and then we can sit and listen to the wireless. Have a quiet evening on our own.’
Later, when they were in bed, Adam gently took her into his arms and kissed her. Jenny really wasn’t in the mood for sex, but after their argument, and because of the fact that he would not be home for long, she responded, even feigning an orgasm to please him. But she was relieved when he kissed her goodnight, turned over and fell asleep.
Five
Gunter Reinhardt was pacing the ground with excitement when Sarah went to meet him that evening. He rushed to the barbed wire fence when he saw her approach and reached out for her hands, gripping them firmly.
‘Liebling! I have some good news.’
‘Whatever is it?’ she asked, hearing the urgency in his voice.
‘Some of us are being allowed to work outside the encampment. If we are very careful, we’ll be able to spend some time together.’ He looked at her with longing. ‘I want so much to be able to hold you in my arms and kiss you.’
She blushed and lowered her gaze with embarrassment.
‘Don’t you want that too?’
‘Of course I do, but how will it be possible?’
‘We are to work in the public park where there is a rock garden. I think it’s East Park.’
‘Yes, I know where you mean. When do you start?’
‘Tomorrow morning. We’ll be there all day, I’m told.’
She beamed at him. ‘Tomorrow is my half day! I finish at on
e o’clock. I’ll come looking for you.’
‘Be careful, liebling, there will be sentries on duty, but hopefully by the afternoon they will have relaxed a bit more and forgotten we are the enemy.’
She hated him referring to himself that way. Squeezing his hand she whispered, ‘You are not my enemy.’
The next afternoon, Sarah strolled along to the rockery area of the park and in the distance saw the men at work. There were only six of them and two British soldiers who were sitting chatting, occasionally casting an eye towards the prisoners of war. She saw Gunter working slightly away from the others and managed to walk in his direction without causing any bother.
He looked up and smiled when he saw her. He glanced over at the sentries, then motioned to Sarah to walk over towards a huge shrub which would shield them from the others. She did and waited, heart pounding, scared of being seen.
A few minutes later, Gunter sauntered round and, with a quick glance over his shoulder, stepped forward and took her into his arms. His urgent kisses took her breath away.
‘I have longed to hold you, liebling,’ he said and kissed her again. ‘You feel so good,’ he whispered as he held her close and buried his head into her hair. ‘You smell so fresh.’ His arms held her even closer. ‘How wonderful to be able to feel you without any barbed wire between us. But I must go. If they see me, I may never have such a chance again.’ He kissed her long and hard, caressed her face, then walked away.
Sarah stood for a moment, catching her breath, her hands shaking. The nearness of Gunter, and the feel of his arms about her and his hot mouth on hers, had been sudden and all encompassing. She walked shakily away and sat on a park bench where she could watch him, longing to be in his arms once more. She would see him again this evening, though the barbed wire would be between them, but at least they could hold hands.
Rusty Dobbs had managed to get hold of an invitation to a dance given by the American GIs at a local hall. She thought she deserved a break and enjoyed getting dressed for an evening’s entertainment strictly for herself. She wore an emerald green summer dress covered in white daisies. The green went well with her auburn hair. She wore a pair of silver shoes, hoping to dance the night away.
As she approached the hall she could hear the band playing. Inside, she presented her invitation to the soldier on the door. He looked at her and smiled.
‘Good evening, ma’am. Have yourself a good time, you hear?’
‘Thanks, I intend to,’ she said, laughing.
Brad Jackson saw her arrive. The long auburn tresses first caught his eye, and he watched as two soldiers approached her at the same time. It was obvious to Brad that the men had both asked her to dance, and there was friendly banter being exchanged, with Rusty watching with much amusement. He walked over to them.
‘Good evening, ma’am, allow me to settle this argument . . . Would you care to dance?’
Laughing, she looked at the handsome officer. ‘Thanks, I’d love to.’
The two soldiers protested. ‘That’s not fair, sir.’
Brad grinned at them, patted the bar on his shoulder ostentatiously, and led Rusty to the floor. The band was playing Glenn Miller’s ‘String of Pearls’ as he took her into his arms.
Rusty loved to dance, and fortunately for her the officer was very accomplished – she was delighted. As the music finished, Brad asked her if she would like a drink.
‘Thank you, a gin and tonic please.’
He led her to a table and went to the bar. She watched him and liked what she saw. It was such a treat to be treated like a lady instead of as a sex object, like some of her punters did. Some were polite, others shy, but a few tried to treat her like a piece of dirt beneath their feet, until she put them in their place. She would never let any man disrespect her. If they continued to do so, she returned their money and refused their business. It had caused her a couple of black eyes in the past, but she figured she would have suffered much more had she let them continue. But tonight she was a different woman. Tonight was for her.
She and Brad chatted easily together. She asked how he was settling in England and in the army.
‘England is quaint,’ he told her. ‘You folks are so different, so reserved. We Americans must be a shock to you all. I’m sure we must appear brash and very loud.’
‘Believe me, it’s a wonderful change,’ she assured him. ‘I would love everybody to be so open, it’s so much fun! You say reserved, I would say stuffy!’
He thought this highly amusing. ‘Well, Miss . . . ?’
‘Rusty, all my friends call me Rusty.’
‘Well, Rusty, you don’t appear to be at all stuffy.’
She burst out laughing. ‘Dear God, no! Life’s too short, Captain. Life is for living, and I don’t want to go to my maker without enjoying every moment that I have.’
‘Brad, please. Well, Rusty, let’s take to the floor again before it gets too crowded.’
Eventually, the band played their last number, and Brad held her close as they waltzed around the floor. As the final notes died, he offered to walk her home.
Rusty hesitated. It wasn’t that she didn’t still want to be with him, but she didn’t want him to see where she lived. She had a small bedsit near Canal Walk, which was by no means a salubrious part of the town. He had treated her like a lady, and she didn’t want anything to spoil this illusion. ‘Thank you, Brad, but I’ll be fine. Honestly.’
He looked concerned. ‘At least let me pay for a taxi. It’s late, and no young woman should walk these streets alone at this time of night.’
If only he knew how at home she was on these streets at night, she thought. ‘Thank you, that would be kind of you,’ she demurred.
‘How about I take you out to dinner? I’m free on Monday evening. It will be my way of thanking you for tonight.’
‘I’d like that very much.’
‘Shall I come and pick you up?’
‘No, I’ll meet you outside the Red Cross club at the Bargate. How about seven thirty?’
‘I’ll be there,’ he said and smiled, then leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. ‘It will give us time to get to know one another better.’ He called a taxi, gave the driver some money after Rusty had told him her destination and, with a wave, watched her being driven away.
As she sat in the back of the vehicle, Rusty frowned. This lovely American had no idea that she was a prostitute. How on earth was she to spend an evening with him without revealing too much about her life? He was such a gentleman, well educated, that much was obvious. He had told her he was a doctor in private life, so he probably came from a good background. She was playing with fire, but she told herself that this was war time and people only passed through – nothing was permanent. She dearly wanted to see him again, so she would just have to invent a life that he would find acceptable, she decided. Yes, that’s what she’d do, and then she’d enjoy his company until it was time for him to move on. She sat back with a feeling of contentment. Rusty Dobbs, a lady – that’s what she would be.
It was Sunday, and Rusty decided to take the day off. She wandered along to the Hoglands where usually the cricket matches were held for local clubs, but today the Americans were playing what to her appeared to be a glorified game of rounders. They called it baseball.
An American GI sat beside her and explained the rules to her as the game progressed. She thoroughly enjoyed the afternoon, as did many of the local children, drawn there primarily in their search for gum and sweets. The soldiers were only too happy to oblige. It was all part of the plan to integrate with the locals, and for all concerned it was a pleasant way to spend an afternoon. Tomorrow, she’d see the handsome captain and enjoy being spoilt yet again.
As arranged, Rusty met Brad outside the Red Cross club by the Bargate. The medieval gateway was a relic of a bygone day which straddled the street and was a constant interest to the foreign soldiers, especially the Americans who had nothing ancient in their country.
Brad sug
gested they dine at the Polgon Hotel, so they walked past the shops in Above Bar, window gazing. He was astonished when she explained that to purchase any clothes displayed in the window meant that a woman or a man would have to part with clothing coupons also and that there was a limited amount of these.
‘You would just love New York, Rusty. You could shop until you dropped with exhaustion. The Big Apple is a woman’s dream.’
‘I’ve seen it in American films,’ she said. ‘It certainly looks exciting, but dangerous.’
‘Then you would maybe prefer my hometown in Denver, Colorado.’ As they walked he described his hometown and the way of life there. It all sounded so very different to anything she’d ever known. And then they reached their destination.
They sat in the cocktail bar with their drinks, and Brad turned to her. ‘So tell me about your life, Rusty.’
She told one lie after another. ‘My parents emigrated to Australia before the war, but I didn’t want to go, so I got a job as a clerk in an office.’
‘Don’t you miss them?’
‘Of course, but Dad had an offer of a job there and it was an opportunity not to be missed.’ And so it went on.
During dinner, Brad listened intently to what she had to say. He thought Rusty was vibrant, beautiful and intelligent, and for the first time in an age he was really interested in a woman. She appeared so confident, so happy in her own skin. She seemed to have no hang ups at all . . . and that was refreshing – and she made him laugh.
As they walked back through the town, Brad asked her if she’d like to go to the Red Cross club, but she declined saying it was getting late and she had to get some sleep. But, truthfully, she was fearful that inside the club she might meet one of the GIs who had been a punter and that would have been horrendous.
‘Are you sure?’ he asked. ‘Only, I have to pick up some stuff they have for me.’
