by June Tate
Saturday dawned, and they set off in bright sunshine with a cool breeze and drove through the picturesque New Forest. Rusty had applied her make-up carefully, as the bruises on her face had faded to yellow, but she still felt sore; however, she laughed and joked with her lover as they journeyed.
When they arrived in Lymington, they checked in to the hotel; but their room wasn’t ready so, leaving their bags with the receptionist, they walked down to the harbour and sat on a seat.
Brad took her into his arms and kissed her hungrily. ‘God, you taste so good.’ And he kissed her again.
‘I’ve missed you too, darling. How did your trip go?’
He sighed. ‘War does crazy things to people. The police wanted to take two of the men to court, but I told them the army would deal with them and they would be punished. They caused a hell of a fracas in a pub, and there was no end of damage. They assaulted a couple of the local men. It was a mess. We covered the costs of the repairs, which will come out of the soldiers’ pay. They will serve some time in the glasshouse for their trouble.’ He smiled tenderly at her. ‘What have you been up to in my absence?’
‘Nothing much, work and sleep, that’s about it.’
He pulled her close. ‘Never mind, we have two days to enjoy ourselves. Come on, let’s find a place that will make a decent cup of coffee, then we’ll take a walk, have some lunch. By then our room should be ready.’
Rusty longed to be in Brad’s arms again, but she was worried that in the daylight he would see the bruises on her body that had not entirely faded. ‘Wouldn’t you rather drive around and see the countryside first?’ she suggested, thinking if they made love in the dark, she would be safe from prying eyes.
He looked surprised. ‘If that’s what you really want to do.’
There was such a note of disappointment in his voice, she gave in. ‘No, of course not. I want to be close to you, of course I do.’
‘You had me worried for a moment, Rusty darling. I wondered if you had found yourself another man.’
She caressed his cheek. ‘Don’t be so silly. Why on earth would I want anyone but you?’
They made their way to a nearby cafe, walked along the harbour, had a satisfying meal with several glasses of wine and, after paying the bill, walked back to their hotel.
Once in the bedroom, Brad reached for her. ‘Come here, I need to hold you. I feel as if I’ve been away for an age.’
They eventually climbed into bed, Rusty keeping her underwear on until she was safely beneath the sheets to hide what was left of her bruises. But Brad, caressing her, kissing her, exploring her body, soon discovered them. He looked at her with more than a little concern.
‘What the hell has happened to you since I’ve been away? You’re covered in bruises, which by their coloration look to me to be days old.’ He waited for her reply.
‘I fell over,’ she said hastily.
He frowned and stared at her. ‘Rusty, you forget I’m a doctor. These bruises are far more than you would have from a fall. To me you look as if you’ve been manhandled.’ He touched her face, which by now had lost the covering of make-up. ‘You have the remains of a bruise here too . . . Rusty?’
She closed her eyes, thinking rapidly, then opening them she said, ‘I wasn’t going to tell you because I didn’t want to worry you, but a drunken soldier attacked me as I was going home from the cinema one night.’
‘You reported this to the police, of course.’
‘What was the point? I didn’t see what he looked like, so what could they have done?’
He cursed beneath his breath. ‘Was the soldier British or American?’
‘He was a GI. I could tell that much by his uniform.’
Brad looked down at her bare breasts. ‘These look like fingermarks!’ His jaw tightened and he asked, ‘Rusty, were you raped?’
What could she say? No longer could she deny the telltale marks, and in a way she had been raped. ‘Yes,’ she whispered.
He looked appalled, and seeing the tears brimming in her eyes, he held her gently. ‘Oh my darling, I am so sorry.’ Wiping a tear from her cheek he said, ‘What a dreadful thing to happen to you. It must have been terrifying.’ He kissed her forehead and tried to comfort her, then he said, ‘There is one thing you must do as soon as we go home – you need to go to your doctor and be examined.’
‘What for? It’s over and done with.’
He spoke very softly. ‘You don’t know your attacker, but you need to be sure that he hasn’t infected you.’
She felt a chill run down her spine. She’d handed Joe a condom when he paid his money, and in the mayhem that followed, she couldn’t remember if he’d used it. ‘Oh my God!’ she cried, now filled with horror.
‘It’s all right. If by any chance you are, these things can be treated with antibiotics. Trust me.’
Suddenly, her world fell apart, and she broke down and sobbed. ‘How can you bear to touch me now?’
He held her tightly. ‘Don’t be a goose. I love you, I want to take care of you. You couldn’t help what happened. Now, Rusty, stop crying, we’ll get through this together.’
But of course they didn’t make love, and wouldn’t until Rusty had been tested, which made her feel dirty. Despite Brad’s continued affection and support, their weekend had been ruined.
When on Sunday evening Brad dropped Rusty back outside the church, he drew her into his arms. ‘Listen, darling, make an appointment to see your doctor, don’t leave it, promise?’
‘I promise.’
‘Call me in a couple of days. I have to clear a mountain of paperwork, then we’ll go out for a meal somewhere.’ He saw the uncertainty in her eyes. ‘Please don’t worry; just remember that I love you.’ He drove away.
She walked home, her mind in a whirl. She had always been so careful about her punters using protection, knowing the dangers of her occupation, but now . . . now she was frantic. She wouldn’t go to the doctor as there was a special clinic set up in the town. She would make an appointment there. All she could do now was pray.
As Brad drove back to headquarters, he fumed inwardly. If he could only get his hands on the man who had defiled his girl, he would throw the book at him! He pictured her bruised body and tried to shut out the images of what she must have endured. He remembered the fear in her eyes when he suggested she be examined, but he had no choice. As a doctor it was his duty, and as her lover he wanted to ensure her physical being. This girl was very dear to him, and he really couldn’t envisage leaving her behind after the war, but these thoughts he’d kept to himself. At some time in the future he was sure to be shipped across the channel into the thick of the fighting, and it didn’t do to make too many future plans until the war was over. He would have time then to make his thoughts known.
It was a lot to expect of a woman to leave her country and step into a world that was so different, but he hoped that Rusty loved him enough to do so. In his job, he knew all the difficulties such a move entailed. It wouldn’t be easy, but that was life. He could offer her a comfortable existence, a nice home, and he couldn’t see why they couldn’t be really happy together as long as she was willing to make the move. He chuckled to himself. Rusty’s vitality and sense of fun would certainly be a surprise to his family, but he was sure they’d grow to love her as he did.
He visualized her in their home, with guests, friends and colleagues of his, and smiled as he pictured her outspoken ways and imagined how she would see the American way of life. She would find things very different, but he hoped she would come to enjoy them. It would be quite an experience for both of them.
He found the English and their ways quaint, yet there was a certain dignity about the way of life, their reticence, which was rather endearing. It would be something that Rusty, as his wife, could teach to any children they might have.
Nine
Captain Adam Procter sat beneath a tree in the shade, wiping the perspiration from his neck. Sicily was hot! The race for Messina ha
d finally been won by the allies. On August 17th, Messina fell. The allies had captured huge amounts of weapons, fuel and ammunition, but the civilians who emerged from cellars and other hiding places, to see their beloved town flattened, were too distressed to welcome the troops. There were no flowers or wine to greet the conquerors; by now nobody cared.
There were a few cafes and wine bars open, which looked as tired as the local inhabitants – those who had survived the bombings. But the cost to the American, Canadian and English troops had been high, so they too were weary.
Adam sat and removed the last letter he’d received from his wife. It was now weeks old. Jenny had written to him about her daily life, had seemed to be cheerful, yet he noticed a certain reticence in her writing. It was almost as if she was writing to a friend, not her husband. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but then she’d changed so much. He put the letter away; he’d write to her this evening when hopefully they would all get some rest.
He sat back and drank his wine as he sat outside the taverna, thankful for the canopy of the huge tree, grateful for the break. How long would it be, he wondered, before the damned war was over and he could return to normal life? War hadn’t been quite the adventure he had envisaged. He supposed, like many men, he’d gone into it without realizing what would be asked of him. He’d certainly not been prepared for the carnage he’d seen, the men who’d died, some right beside him. To know he’d been inches from death more than once was a shock to the system.
Jenny, in fact, was enjoying life. Her affair with Chad filled her every moment. Fortunately, he worked for Brad Jackson and was therefore more or less stationary for the moment. When they weren’t at the stables, Chad came to the house, and when he had a pass, he stayed the night. The two of them slept together in a guest room, because it didn’t seem right to Jenny to take her lover to the same bed she normally shared with her husband.
The difference in their ages only came up once when Jenny mentioned it one evening as they sat curled up together on the large settee. Chad had been dismissive.
‘Age is all in the mind, honey. Some people are born old. What to me is more amazing is that a lovely lady like you, from such an illustrious background, could be interested in me, a simple cowboy from Wyoming.’
She had laughed. ‘You, Chad, are far from being a simple cowboy!’
His eyes twinkled mischievously. ‘If you were to see me on the back of a horse wearing chaps and a Stetson you wouldn’t say that.’
‘Do you look like Gary Cooper?’
‘Hell no, I’m much better looking!’
The situation had not been mentioned since. She just relished the affection that he gave her, the feel of his arms around her at night. The future would sort itself out, and she would enjoy what was on offer from this extraordinary man, for as long as it lasted.
Jenny took the opportunity to show Chad the surrounding countryside and the English way of life, which he found interesting and amusing. They went to Buckler’s Hard, where old Elizabethan ships used to be built; to the New Forest, where they both were involved in rounding up the New Forest ponies. This, of course, delighted him.
‘Gee, honey, it’s almost like being back on the range!’ he cried as he whooped his way behind numerous horses being corralled. He was such fun to be with, and Jenny felt free of any encumbrance when she was with him. It was like leading an entirely different life, and she thrived on it . . . and it showed.
Beth remarked on it one day when Jenny went along to the stables to help out. After the morning’s work had been done and the two women had ridden out for an hour, they returned to the house to eat. They sat in the kitchen chatting about the day.
Beth gazed at her friend with affection. ‘Being in love suits you,’ she said.
Jenny nearly choked on her coffee, and then she laughed. ‘Is it that obvious?’
‘Oh yes! You are absolutely glowing, my dear, and you look younger. I’m happy for you; Chad is a lovely man.’
‘At first I was filled with guilt,’ Jenny confessed. ‘I even had dreams of Adam coming home and finding out about us, but as time passed I didn’t care any more.’ She frowned. ‘I just want to be with Chad. Is that so wrong, Beth?’
‘You forget, I know Adam and his controlling ways. Over the years he’s smothered every bit of spirit in you; now, you are full of life. Grab it with both hands, is my advice!’
‘It can’t last though; eventually, it all has to come to an end. I can’t bear to think about it, to be honest.’
‘Then don’t! War changes everything, it’s inevitable. For you, it’s made you happy for the first time in years, and that is worth anything that follows. Come on, there’s more work to do.’
Rusty had not been working. She had been to the clinic and undergone the necessary examinations, which made her feel soiled.
The doctor involved was brief and to the point when he was able to give her the results. ‘You are lucky, Miss Dobbs. You are free of any infection, but I do advise you to take precautions in the future.’ His face was expressionless as he gazed at her. ‘It would be a pity if you had to endure this again.’
She felt her hackles rise. ‘Do you think I’m an idiot? Believe me, to come here was humiliating enough, and it certainly wasn’t my fault that I had to do so!’
His eyes narrowed. ‘If you were raped, Miss Dobbs, I hope you reported this to the authorities.’
She picked up her handbag and rose from the chair. ‘Thank you for your time, Doctor, you will not see me in here ever again!’
Once outside she leaned against the wall with relief. She didn’t dare think of the consequences if the news had been different. Yes, Brad said it could be treated, but she would never have felt the same again. The stigma of having had a sexually transmitted disease would have been for ever carved on her soul. Even now, she wondered if it would affect her relationship with the lovely captain. How did he feel about her being raped . . . as he thought? Would he feel differently about her, knowing she’d had sex with another man? Men were strange creatures. They could have sex with anyone they liked, it meant nothing, but if their woman did, well . . . that was an entirely different matter. If he ever discovered her profession, that certainly would be the end.
Brad and Rusty sat at a table in the Cowherds Inn and ordered from the menu. It was the first time they’d been together since she’d been tested at the clinic. Brad had picked her up, chatted cheerfully about inconsequential things until they were settled. He leaned across the table and took her hand.
‘It’s good to see you, darling. You look well. I like your dress.’
‘You don’t have to be polite, you know!’ Rusty was feeling edgy.
‘Woah! What brought that on?’ he asked with surprise.
‘Well, I’ve been tested; don’t you want to know the results?’
He paused and studied her for a moment. Then he said, quietly, ‘Yes, eventually, but why are you so angry?’
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. ‘Because I feel humiliated. I’m angry that some bastard used me – and because I’m afraid you won’t want me any more!’
Brad stared at her, then, getting to his feet, he said, ‘Wait there and don’t you dare move!’
The sharpness of his tone so surprised her that she did as she was told.
Five minutes later, he returned, took her by the arm and said, ‘Come on, we’re getting out of here.’
‘But what about the dinner we ordered?’
‘I’ve cancelled it; now get into the jeep.’
He drove down the Avenue into the town, past the Bargate and into the car park of the Dolphin Hotel, where he parked the vehicle, opened the passenger door and said, ‘Come on.’
Rusty was so stunned by this turn of events, she went along with him. At the desk, he paused. ‘I’m Captain Jackson, I called five minutes ago.’
The receptionist gave him a key.
Taking Rusty by the arm, he led her to the lift and pressed the butto
n for the first floor.
‘Brad?’
He ignored her and, when the lift stopped, walked her to a room, unlocked it and gently pushed her inside. ‘Come here!’ He took her into his arms and kissed her longingly until she could hardly breathe. ‘You don’t think I want you any more? Well, my darling, I’m about to prove to you just how much I do.’
To Rusty, the world suddenly looked a much brighter place, and she started to laugh. ‘Oh, bloody hell! I’ve got my own Rhett Butler.’
Brad grinned at her. ‘But unlike him, my dear, I do give a damn!’
Sarah Biggs and Gunter sat in the garden at the farm at the end of a Sunday, talking about their future. Wondering how much longer the war would take before it was over and the German prisoners of war were repatriated.
‘I’ve not heard from my family, of course,’ he said. ‘No doubt they have been informed that I am a prisoner, and I have no idea if we still have a home or if it’s been bombed during the air raids.’ He frowned. ‘In fact, I have no idea if my parents are still alive.’
‘Oh Gunter, don’t say that!’ Sarah was horrified by such a thought.
He shrugged. ‘I have to prepare myself for this. Both countries were bombed so badly, and there were so many casualties.’ He brightened for a moment. ‘Maybe if it was bad they might have gone to my grandmother’s in the country. Let’s hope so. Whatever, liebling, we will be together eventually.’
Sarah loved to talk about their future – it was like a dream come true – but the reality of it ever happening was always in doubt. For one thing, her parents would be against it, she knew that for certain. To her mother, the only good German was a dead one! Hadn’t she said that often enough? And her father was fighting them somewhere in Europe; she couldn’t imagine he would relish a German for a son-in-law. That was only one of the problems that would face them, but at least they were able to be together now; the future would have to wait.
Mrs Dora Biggs had long been suspicious about her daughter’s weekends and the fact that she’d stopped meeting the German behind the barbed wire in the park. She knew because her neighbour had told her he no longer saw Sarah there. He’d also informed her that many of the men were now employed on farmlands. Maybe that was the reason, she thought. She decided to find out one way or another. And so the next Sunday, she followed her daughter.
