Their Guilty Pleasures

by June Tate

  There was a table with two ladies serving coffee with boiling water from a large urn on a table at one end of the room; beside that, another table full of home-made cakes.

  ‘Bloody hell!’ Rusty exclaimed quietly. ‘How did this lot happen with today’s rationing?’

  ‘I was wondering the same thing myself. It’s really quite amazing.’

  One or two of the local ladies started talking to Jenny, and Rusty slowly edged to the door. Once outside she found her way to the kitchen, just as someone emerged carrying yet another plate of cupcakes.

  ‘I think I’ve died and gone to heaven!’ Rusty cried. ‘I’ve never seen so many delicious cakes since war was declared.’

  The woman beamed. ‘I know, isn’t it marvellous? We couldn’t possibly do it without Fiona – she has ways and means of getting things done!’ And she winked.

  ‘I bet she has,’ muttered Rusty, now alone in the kitchen. She opened the fridge and peered inside. There were several packets of butter beside a large slab of cheese, a dozen eggs and a leg of lamb. In the cupboard beside there was plenty of tea, American coffee . . . and tinned fruit.

  ‘Bloody hell! It looks as if she’s raided a food warehouse.’ Then she stood and smiled. ‘Well, Fiona, this is your guilty pleasure! Gotcha!’

  Rusty returned to the other room and sidled up to Jenny. ‘I think it’s time we tell our hostess just what a wonderful job she is doing, don’t you? And don’t forget to introduce me.’ Seeing the look of concern Jenny gave her, she just grinned broadly. ‘Trust me!’

  They made their way carefully through the throng, clutching their coffee cups, until they found Fiona Haskins playing the lady bountiful in a loud voice.

  ‘Fiona!’ said Jenny, touching her arm.

  The woman turned, and the smile froze on her lips.

  ‘What a splendid turnout, you have done well. I believe you’ve already met my friend, Miss Dobbs?’

  Rusty immediately spoke up. ‘My goodness me, Mrs Haskins, I don’t remember when I’ve seen such an array of cakes, and with rationing so very strict! All that butter and eggs needed for such a spread . . . and you still have so much left! This coffee is delicious; I’ve not tasted as good except when an American gave me some from their stores.’

  Fiona turned pale.

  Rusty put a hand on her arm and leaned closer. ‘But then I always say it’s who you know rather than what you know, in such times as these.’ And she tapped the side of her nose and winked at her before moving away, with Jenny quickly walking behind her.

  ‘What the hell was all that about? I thought Fiona was about to pass out!’

  ‘Well, my dear Jenny, our illustrious hostess is up to her neck in the black market. Oh my God!’ Rusty stopped dead as a man emerged from one of the rooms.

  ‘Jenny, my dear, how lovely to see you. How’s it going in there?’

  ‘Very well, James. Are you going to join them?’

  ‘Not bloody likely! I’m off to my study.’

  ‘This is my friend Rusty.’ But Rusty had walked away and was already halfway down the drive.

  James Haskins followed her gaze and saw the redhead in the distance. ‘Never mind, I’ll meet her another time. Good to see you. Have you heard from Adam?’

  ‘Not lately, but you know how difficult it is for mail to get through, then several letters arrive at the same time.’

  ‘Well, take care, Jenny. Good to see you.’

  She ran down the path to catch up with her friend. ‘Why did you take off like that?’

  ‘That man used to be one of my clients. What was he doing there?’

  Jenny tried not to smile. ‘How absolutely priceless! That is James, Fiona’s husband!’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Yes, I’m afraid he is.’

  ‘Oh, don’t be afraid, Jenny, he was one of my favourites, a great lover. With him it was my pleasure, believe me!’

  They both walked down the drive, their laughter echoing.

  At the study window, James Haskins watched them and smiled softly to himself as he remembered.

  His reverie was interrupted by his wife, who swept into the room in high dudgeon. She stormed around the room, complaining loudly about having her privacy invaded. Then, eventually, she sat down.

  When James inquired as to the cause of her fury, she told him about Rusty’s remarks.

  Her husband chuckled. ‘I did warn you about dealing in the black market, and you dismissed me, if I recall.’

  ‘And that Jenny Procter has a cheek to show up here when we all know about her and that American GI!’

  James looked intrigued. ‘Are you implying that’s she’s having an affair?

  ‘I’m not implying anything, it’s a well-known fact!’

  ‘Then good for her! I could never understand what she was doing with that pompous oaf Procter; she deserves much better.’

  ‘James! What a terrible thing to say.’

  ‘Not at all, my dear, and my advice to you is people in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones. Just hope that Jenny’s friend, that glamorous redhead, doesn’t tell the authorities about you!’ And he walked out of the room.

  Twenty-Three

  The men of the 82nd Airborne division were weary. Despite the fact that eighty per cent of their supplies had been recovered from several drops, the weather had deteriorated, stopping vital troops from gliding in. The company still had been unable to capture the bridge at Nijmegen and were now fighting to take control of the landing zone.

  That evening, as Brad and Chad sat eating their K rations, they both admitted how tired they were.

  ‘I’m beat,’ said Chad as he lit a cigarette. ‘God, I thought I was a really fit man, but I’ve never ever been so damned tired.’

  Brad pushed his helmet to the back of his head and rubbed his eyes. ‘Me too, buddy. What I wouldn’t give for a hot bath and a comfortable bed. I’d sell my soul to the devil for it, given the opportunity!’

  ‘No, you wouldn’t, you’re one of the good guys!’

  Brad started laughing. ‘Whatever gave you that idea?’

  ‘I’ve gotten to know you pretty well since we came to Britain, but don’t let it go to your head!’

  Brad looked across at his friend. He had been made up to sergeant now and was very popular with the men. His way of handling them was different. He didn’t yell or shout at them, there were no snide remarks about their inabilities as soldiers – he just showed them respect and understanding. No doubt helped by his experiences with horses, he understood the men’s psyches. Nevertheless, when it was necessary, Chad could yell as well as the next sergeant.

  The two men had been firm friends before they were sent to the war zone, but in battle real friendships are forged which last a lifetime, and these two men looked out for each other through friendship and mutual admiration.

  They spent the rest of the evening talking about their plans for the future.

  ‘When eventually I get my ranch up and running,’ Chad said, ‘you and Rusty ought to come out and stay for a vacation. After all, you’re not that far away. The girls would love to spend some time together there.’

  ‘That’d be great,’ agreed Brad. ‘Like you, I’ll have to take time to set up my practice again.’

  ‘But what about the patients that you had before. Won’t they come back?’

  ‘I doubt it! You forget how long it’s been. They will, by now, feel comfortable with their new practitioner. The doctor-patient relationship is very personal, and that’s important both for the doctor and the patient.’

  ‘There you go,’ Chad remarked with a grin. ‘You’re a people whisperer!’

  Shaking his head, Brad smiled. ‘How that lovely woman puts up with you, I’ll never know!’

  ‘To be honest, Brad, neither do I, but thank God she does. I feel the luckiest guy on the planet. Right, I’m off to get some sleep, see you in the morning. Let’s hope it’s an easier day than today.’ And he made his way to his bed.

  Ba
ck at home, Jenny and Rusty got on with their lives, watching the post every morning in the hopes of hearing from their men. When a letter did arrive, the recipient would go off in a quiet corner to read the contents before sharing whatever news with the other. Like their two men, they’d become firm friends and cheered each other when one felt low.

  This particular evening, they were in the sitting room exchanging gossip when the telephone rang. ‘Who on earth can that be?’ Jenny said as she went to answer it. ‘Yes, this is Jenny Procter. Yes, my husband is Captain Adam Procter.’

  Rusty looked up and saw the shocked expression on Jenny’s face.

  ‘Where did you say he was?’ Jenny listened for a moment and then asked: ‘Can I go and see him?’ After taking down some details, she replaced the receiver.

  ‘Jenny! Whatever is the matter? You look terrible.’

  She sank into the chair beside the phone. ‘It’s Adam! He’s been injured and is in hospital.’

  ‘Oh my God! Is he badly hurt?’

  ‘They wouldn’t say, just asked if I would go and see him and talk to his doctor.’

  ‘Where is he?’

  ‘In a military hospital in Basingstoke. I must find out the train times. I’ll go up in the morning.’

  ‘I’m coming with you!’ said Rusty.

  ‘But your job?’

  ‘I’ll ring in the morning. You can’t go alone. Who knows what’s happened!’ She walked over to Jenny and put a comforting arm around her. ‘Maybe it won’t be too bad.’

  Neither of the women slept well that night, wondering what they would face the following day. They left Southampton in the morning and eventually arrived at the hospital.

  Jenny went up to the reception desk and spoke to the nurse on duty. ‘I’m Mrs Jenny Procter. I received a call last night to say that my husband, Captain Adam Procter, had been brought here. I would like to see him, please.’

  ‘One moment, Mrs Procter,’ said the nurse and looked through several notes on her desk. She frowned and said, ‘Yes, that’s right, just one moment please.’ She made a call to tell someone of Jenny’s arrival, then asked her to take a seat for a moment.

  As they sat waiting, Rusty took hold of Jenny’s hand and squeezed it, but neither said a word.

  Before very long they heard the sound of footsteps and saw a man wearing a white coat approaching. ‘Which of you is Mrs Procter?’ he asked.

  Jenny stood up. ‘I am.’

  ‘Would you like to come with me, please?’

  ‘I’d like my friend to come too. Is that all right?’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ he said quietly, ‘just follow me.’

  Jenny could feel her heart racing as she followed the man. He showed her into what appeared to be his consulting room and indicated that they should take a seat.

  ‘I am Dr Braxton and have been attending to your husband.’

  ‘Is he badly injured?’ asked Jenny fearfully.

  ‘I’m afraid so. He was injured by an explosion. He has mainly superficial injuries caused by shrapnel, but I’m so sorry to have to tell you that, due to the blast, he is blind.’

  Jenny let out a cry of anguish and covered her mouth with her hand.

  ‘Oh my God!’ exclaimed Rusty.

  ‘Is this a permanent thing?’ asked Jenny. ‘Is there any hope that he may regain his sight?’

  ‘I’m afraid not. The optic nerves have been too badly damaged.’

  Jenny sat, stunned by the news, unable to fully grasp the situation.

  ‘What happens to Captain Procter now?’ asked Rusty.

  ‘He’ll remain a patient here for a while until we can get him well. As you can imagine, he’s been through a series of operations where we tried to save his sight and he’s a sick man at the moment. When he’s well enough, we’ll send him to St Dunstan’s, where they will train him to cope without his sight and teach him Braille – then he’ll come home.’

  ‘What sort of a life will he have then? He’ll not be able to work, he’ll have a terrible time. He’ll hate every moment! You don’t know my husband, Dr Braxton.’ Jenny was beside herself with worry.

  ‘He’ll need a great deal of help, Mrs Procter, to get used to being blind. But you know it is possible to lead a good life if you are mentally strong. But I won’t lie to you, it isn’t going to be easy.’

  ‘Can I see him?’ asked Jenny.’

  ‘Yes, of course, but I would ask you not to stay too long, not this time. I’m sure it will cheer the captain to hear your voice, but I don’t want him tired. I’m sure you understand.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘I’ll show you to his room. He’s in a side ward where he can be quiet. Your friend can sit in the waiting room.’

  Jenny tried to fight off the trepidation she felt as she was taken to see Adam. She had no idea what she was about to face.

  At the door, the doctor left her. ‘Half an hour at the longest,’ he told her.

  Jenny opened the door. The smell of ether and disinfectant seemed to invade her nostrils, making her feel nauseous. She stepped inside the room.

  Adam was lying in bed, his eyes covered with bandages. He looked frail and thin. She walked over to the bed and gently took his hand. ‘Adam, it’s Jenny.’

  He stirred just a little and moved his head straining to listen. ‘Jenny, is that really you?’

  ‘Yes, Adam, I’m so sorry to see you like this.’

  ‘I wondered if you would come,’ he said weakly. ‘Thank you, it means so much to me.’

  She could tell that talking was wearying him. ‘Don’t talk,’ she said. ‘They will only let me stay for a while.’

  He squeezed her hand. ‘Next time you can perhaps stay a little longer.’ His voice faded, and he fell asleep.

  She sat studying her husband. This was so unlike the man she knew. Adam had been a tour de force; now he looked weak and frail. How on earth would he be able to cope in the future? Thirty minutes later, she gently removed her hand from his and crept out of the room.

  Rusty was walking up and down the waiting room, worried for her friend, wondering what was going to happen next. She stopped as Jenny walked in and held her friend as she dissolved into tears.

  When Jenny had recovered, she told her friend about Adam. ‘He looked so ill, it was all he could do to say a few words. Oh Rusty, what a terrible thing to happen to him. His life is in ruins!’

  Although Rusty felt sympathy for the man lying in the hospital bed, she was more concerned about Jenny. And your life is also in ruins, she thought to herself.

  The train journey home was taken in almost complete silence, both women sat lost in their own thoughts. Rusty anxiously watched her friend, whose shoulders were slumped and her face pale.

  Jenny was trying to face the facts that had just been put before her, seeing her future happiness slowly and painfully fading away. ‘I can’t possibly leave him now!’ she suddenly exclaimed and then burst into tears.

  Rusty put an arm round Jenny, but couldn’t find the words to comfort her. What could she say? What would she do if she was in that position? She honestly didn’t know. If only Brad was here! With his medical background he would be able to assess the situation rationally. She felt completely hopeless and helpless.

  Once they arrived at Southampton, they took a taxi home. Rusty put the kettle on and then poured Jenny a stiff brandy. ‘Here, drink this, it’s good for shock.’ She poured herself one too, then made a pot of tea.

  ‘There’s no sense in making any decision until you know more about Adam’s situation,’ she said as she poured the steaming liquid into a cup.

  ‘What more is there to know?’ said Jenny. ‘Adam is blind. He couldn’t possibly manage without help for the rest of his life. How can I walk away from him, knowing that?’

  ‘What about Chad, your plans for the future? Are you going to throw that all away?’

  ‘What choice do I have? I have no choice!’ she cried.

  ‘Stop that!’ Rusty shook Jenny by th
e shoulders. ‘All your married life, Adam has made decisions for you. Now, you have to fight for what you want.’ She stood up and stalked around the kitchen angrily. ‘For Christ’s sake, Jenny, for the first time in your life, stand up for yourself! Don’t throw in the towel so easily!’

  ‘You didn’t see Adam or you wouldn’t be so heartless!’

  Rusty drew up a chair beside her. ‘Look at me!’ she demanded.

  Somewhat startled by the ferocious tone of her voice, Jenny did as she was told.

  ‘Don’t think for one minute I’m not deeply sorry for Adam, because I am. My heart goes out to him, but I am more concerned about you at this moment. Adam will get the best medical treatment going, and though this may sound hard, he’s not the first man to lose his sight. He’ll be trained to cope, as have many others, and in time he will have a quality to his life – not the one he had hoped for, but a life that can be lived. But you . . . you will be destroyed! Now, that’s not right in any man’s language.’

  ‘I know what you say is true, but I don’t know if I’ll be strong enough to walk away when the time comes.’

  ‘At least give some consideration to the man who adores you!’ Rusty let out a sigh of frustration. ‘Chad will be devastated if you let him down. How can you live with that?’

  ‘I’m not at all sure that I can. Oh Rusty – what a mess!’

  ‘You listen to me. You’ll have to see Adam, of course you will. He needs you now, and because of the years you’ve been together, you have to help him at this time.’ She caught hold of Jenny’s hand and gripped it tightly. ‘But never ever let him think this is a permanent situation! If at any time he talks as if he thinks it is, you must gently remind him of your plans. Don’t give him any false hopes. That way you’ll be able to cope and he will be prepared for it.’

  ‘You should be a psychologist! Where did you learn all this?’

  Rusty chuckled. ‘Mostly on my back, darling!’

  Despite everything, Jenny had to laugh. ‘Do you think I should write to Chad and explain the situation?’

  Rusty looked appalled. ‘What, and worry him to death? What would be the point? Goodness knows when the men will be home. Until that time you can do your duty by Adam, help get him on his feet, and then later, when this bloody war is over, we can all get on with our lives.’