by Lilian Harry
Jean and Ben had been friends from the start and he’d been proud to stand as Hope’s godfather. By the time the christening took place in the little grey church, Jean’s parents – now more accustomed to the situation but still uncomfortable with the fact that their daughter was an unmarried mother – had been there, and so had Terry’s family.
Ben still remembered the moment when his father, holding the baby in his arms over the old stone font, had asked the godparents to name the child. Everyone present knew that the baby was to be called Hope, but Jean had said nothing about a second name. She didn’t have to have a second name, of course, but Ben knew that if the baby had been a boy he would have been named after his father. Terry’s family too must have been thinking that as John asked his question, and then Judy Taylor, the chief godmother, took a very small step forward.
‘Hope Teresa,’ she said clearly, and there was a tiny sigh from everyone present. Ben saw Terry’s mother turn and look at her husband with brimming eyes and then John dipped a small silver cup into the water. He poured it over the baby’s thick, dark hair and made the sign of the Cross upon her forehead. ‘Hope Teresa, I baptize thee in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.’
Hope woke with a start. She drew in a deep breath and opened her mouth wide, letting out a yell that could have been heard in Southampton. Everyone smiled, Judy giggled and Jean blushed scarlet with embarrassment and went to take the baby back, but John lifted one hand and shook his head reassuringly. Cradling the baby against him, he conducted the rest of the service against a crescendo of furious screams, and then it was over and Jean was allowed to have her baby again and calm her.
‘I’m ever so sorry, Mr Hazelwood. It was getting her head wet all of a sudden, like that.’
‘It’s all right, Jean. It’s supposed to be a good sign for the baby to cry. It shows that the Old Adam’s being driven out, or so they say.’
She gave him a doubtful look and turned to find Ben at her side. ‘Well, you’re her godfather now, Ben. I hope you’re going to do your duty by her – help me bring her up properly, and all that.’
Ben remembered how he had looked down into her eyes, seeing the sadness there and the need. Already, he could feel a rapport between him and this girl, and a bond between himself and her daughter.
‘I’ll do my best,’ he said quietly. ‘I’ll do my best to help you.’
That was almost two years ago now, and he’d always sought Jeanie out when he came home on leave. Their friendship had grown and he felt a deep fondness for the little girl. Sometimes, as they strolled in the woods and fields, taking a simple picnic with them and playing with Hope, he felt almost as if they were a family.
His mother came out of the house and found him there. She sat down beside him on the bench.
‘Jeanie’s looking very happy,’ she said. ‘Has anything happened, Ben?’
He looked at her, wondering what she would say if he said ‘yes’. He knew that she liked the girl, but would she welcome her as a daughter-in-law? He didn’t know. His mother was no snob, and neither was his father – but he still didn’t know the answer.
‘No,’ he said. ‘Nothing’s happened. I think she’s just happy to be here.’
Chapter Three
The cottage that Andrew had found was one of a pair beside the road, a short distance from the top of the hill that led down into the village. Alison stood at the gate and looked at it.
‘I thought it would have a thatched roof and eyebrow windows and roses round the door.’
‘There’s not much thatch hereabouts,’ Andrew told her. ‘And I’m afraid it’s not as sheltered as the houses down in the valley – we’ll get all the winds straight across from Plymouth Sound here. But it’s got electricity and its own water supply. Most of the cottages still have to use a standpipe, and I’m not sure you’d be too keen on collecting your water in a bucket!’
Alison screwed up her face. ‘No, I don’t think I would.’ She stood in the tiny front garden and looked across the road. Beyond the cottage she could see a wide view stretching into the far south-west, with the glitter of water in between, while in the other direction she could see rolling hills and distant villages surrounded by what looked like tall chimneys.
‘Are those factories over there?’ she asked, frowning. ‘I didn’t know there was a lot of industry down here.’
‘I think it’s old mine-workings. That’s Cornwall you’re looking at, across the Tamar estuary. It’s riddled with mines – tin, mostly – though I don’t think they’re all working now. Those chimneys are part of them.’ He dumped her case on the path and pushed open the door, then turned to swing Alison into his arms. ‘Got to do it in style.’ He set her on her feet on the stone-flagged floor and turned to lift Hughie in as well. ‘What d’you think?’
‘Well, I haven’t had a chance to look yet.’ Alison brushed back her fair hair and gazed around with interest.
The door opened into a small, square hallway which in turn opened into a long room that might once have been two smaller ones but now went the depth of the cottage, with windows at each end. In the front part there was an old stone hearth with an iron basket where a pile of logs was laid ready to be lit, and in the back a smaller fireplace which didn’t appear to be in use. The ceiling was crossed with beams of oak so aged the wood was almost black.
‘A piano!’ Alison’s eyes lit up as she saw the instrument standing in one of the alcoves. She opened its lid and played a few notes. ‘You never told me about this.’
‘I wanted it to be a surprise. It’s not all that special, mind.’
‘It’s not bad, though.’ She ran her fingers up and down the keys. ‘I can keep up my practice and it’ll be lovely for parties.’ She closed the lid again. ‘What else is there?’
‘There’s a kitchen – more of a lean-to scullery really, but it’s got an electric cooker and running water. And there’s a lavatory outside. We’ve got our own septic tank as well, so there are no problems there.’ Andrew unlocked the back door to take her out into the yard. ‘And not a bad little garden either. A bit of grass for Hughie to play on, and vegetable patch. But wait till you see upstairs.’
Alison followed him up the narrow stairway, with Hughie tugging at her hand. So far, she was pleasantly surprised by what she had seen. The cottage had obviously been looked after and improved, the downstairs room would be marvellous for the parties Tubby had told her he was looking forward to. And there was furniture, too – a sofa and two armchairs in the front part of the room and a big kitchen table and six chairs in the back, as well as the piano.
‘Here’s our bedroom.’ Andrew opened the door to the front room and stood back. Alison went past him and gave a little cry of delight.
‘Andrew, it’s lovely!’
‘Thought you’d like it.’ He beamed as proudly as if he’d done the furnishing himself.
‘I adore the beams. And the blue curtains,’ Alison said, moving across the room to look out of the window. ‘And look at the view! It’s even better than it is from the garden. It’s a really nice, sunny room, isn’t it?’ She turned to him, her eyes glowing. ‘I’m going to love living here.’
Andrew put his arms round her. ‘That’s good. Because I hope we’ll be here for quite a long time. As long as the squadron’s here, anyway.’
There was a slight pause as they both thought of the reason for their being here. Alison leaned her head against his chest and he lifted her chin with his fingers and kissed her lips. ‘Don’t worry, darling. I’ll be all right. I’ve had my crash, remember.’
‘I know.’ She did not share his belief that he was now invincible. Others had crashed more than once, and usually the second time had been their last. She moved away from him. ‘How many other bedrooms are there?’
‘Two. One’s furnished, so we’ll be able to have people to stay, and the other one will do for a nursery. We’ll need to get you a bed,’ he told his son, who was gazing around him,
wide-eyed. ‘But you can sleep in the guest-room to begin with.’ They went into the back bedroom with its two single beds, each stripped like the one in the front room. ‘You can choose which one you want.’
‘This one!’ Hughie jumped on to the bed nearest the window. ‘I want this one!’
‘That’s the one I’d choose too, so that I could see out from my pillow,’ his mother said. ‘It’s a nice view down into the garden.’ She moved back to the landing. ‘What’s in this room?’
‘Ah.’ Andrew stepped back and gave a flourish with one hand. ‘This is the pièce de résistance. Another small convenience that you might not expect in a cottage.’
‘A bathroom!’ Alison exclaimed in delight. ‘Oh, how wonderful! I thought we’d have to bring a tin one in every Friday night. Andrew, you’re so clever to find this place. It’s lovely.’
‘Well, I was rather pleased with myself,’ he admitted. ‘And it’s not too far away from the airfield. They’ve issued everyone on the station with a bike, so it’s really only a few minutes away. Bit noisy for you, though, with the planes flying over.’
‘I shan’t mind that. I’m used to aircraft noise.’ She went back into the bedroom and stood gazing out of the window. ‘Oh, I can’t wait to move in.’
‘Well, as soon as our stuff arrives, we can.’ He glanced at the bed. ‘Pity it’s not here now. You don’t happen to have a couple of pairs of sheets about your person, do you?’
‘No, I don’t,’ she said ruefully. ‘And we really ought to go to wherever it is Hughie and I are staying tonight. But if the luggage arrives tomorrow, I can get everything ready during the day and we can spend the evening in our very own home. I’ll even cook you supper!’ She collected Hughie from his bedroom and shooed him down the stairs. ‘Come on, I want to drive all round the perimeter, so that I can see exactly where you’ll be. And then we’ll go to the farmhouse. All right?’
‘Yes, Miss,’ Andrew said obediently, like a small boy. ‘No, Miss. Three bags full, Miss. But I won’t forget what you’ve promised for tomorrow night – don’t think I will.’
‘And what was that?’ she enquired innocently. ‘All I remember saying is that I’d cook you supper.’
‘No,’ he said, and caught her in the doorway. ‘You promised more than that. You know you did.’ He ran his fingertips down her face, from eyebrows to throat. ‘You didn’t have to say it – your eyes told me. And your lips.’ He bent and kissed them again.
Alison wound her arms around his neck and said in a whisper, ‘I wish we had those sheets. I really do.’
‘Tomorrow,’ he murmured. ‘Tomorrow, in our own new home. We’ll have all night, then. All the time in the world.’
Much later, as she sat in the window of the farmhouse listening to Hughie’s regular breathing as he slept, Alison thought back over the day. As Andrew had said, it had been a long one, starting with the railway journey from Kent to Devon, and she was tired. Yet she had been unable to go to sleep straight away, and had got out of bed to gaze out of the window at the rolling fields, silvered with moonlight. She could not forget the look in Tubby’s eyes as he had glanced up at her outside the village inn. And she could not forget that conversation with him a week or two earlier, in the rented house at Manston.
‘It’s like a huge black shadow looming over me,’ Tubby had said. He was lying back in the big armchair by the fireplace. Most of their personal possessions – their books, a few ornaments, Andrew’s rowing trophies, their wedding photographs and the painting of Alison that her father had commissioned when she was presented at Court – had been packed, ready for the move to Devon, and the room seemed bare and cheerless. Alison had been busy wrapping glass and china when Tubby arrived, but when she saw his face she had put them down at once.
‘Whatever’s the matter?’
‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come – shouldn’t be bothering you with this. But I’ve got to talk to someone.’ His normally cheerful, rosy face looked pale and a little drawn, and there was a hunted expression in his eyes. ‘I don’t know what I’m going to do. I just don’t know—’
‘Tubby!’ Really alarmed now, she came to his side and caught his arm. He stared down at her and she guided him to the chair. ‘Sit there, and tell me what’s the matter. Take your time, there’s no hurry. Hughie’s asleep and Andrew isn’t coming home till later. Tell me what’s happened.’
‘Nothing’s actually happened.’ He sat forward, his hands clasped between his knees. ‘It’s just that – oh hell, I don’t know how to put this.’ He beat his fists against his mouth and then started to get up. ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come. I’d better go.’
‘No.’ Gently, she pressed him back. ‘No, don’t go, Tubby. Look, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. Just sit there for a while. I’ll make you some tea. Or coffee – which would you like? Or there’s a bottle of sherry we haven’t packed yet. I expect I can find a glass somewhere.’ She glanced at the box she had been packing when he arrived, but Tubby shook his head.
‘Better not. Oh, Christ – sorry, Alison, I’m forgetting my manners. Coming into your house and swearing … Look, forget it, will you. Forget I ever came.’ His face was working and she saw beads of sweat on his forehead. Once again, she pressed him back into the chair.
‘You’re staying here. And I’m making some tea. It seems to me you really do need someone to talk to.’ She hesitated, then said, ‘I’m quite safe, you know, Tubby. I won’t pass it on, whatever it is.’
He glanced up at her from under his brows. ‘Not even Andy?’
‘Well …’ She hesitated again. ‘I’ve never had any secrets from Andrew.’
‘That’s just it,’ he said gloomily. ‘Andrew’s the one person who must never know. That’s why I can’t tell you – I should have thought of it before I came.’ He let his shoulders sag. ‘I’ll have a cup of tea, and then I’ll go. Let you get on with your packing.’
‘So who will you tell?’ she asked quietly.
Tubby sat silent for a few moments, staring at the floor. Then he lifted his shoulders, and looked up into her face.
‘No one.’
Alison waited for a moment. Then she knelt before him and looked into his eyes, shocked by their darkness. Normally a bright, laughing blue, they were almost black with despair. She took a breath and said, ‘Tubby, there’s something badly wrong. If you want to tell me what it is, I promise I won’t tell a soul.’ She took another breath. ‘Not even Andrew.’
‘I can’t do that,’ he said. ‘I can’t ask you to keep secrets.’
‘It’s wartime,’ she said. ‘People are having to keep secrets all the time. Andrew has to keep secrets from me, I know he does. Tubby, I trust you not to tell me anything I ought to tell him. Trust me, too.’
‘That’s just it,’ he said wretchedly. ‘It is something you ought to tell him. But if he knew …’ He met her eyes again and then drew in a ragged breath. ‘Oh, to hell with it. I’m scared, Alison. That’s what it is. I’m scared stiff. And if Andrew knew – if anyone on the station knew – they’d have me grounded before you could say Jack Robinson. Whoever he was,’ he added with a wry attempt at humour.
Alison sat back on her heels and stared at him. A small frown gathered between her brows.
‘Scared? You mean, of flying?’
‘That’s right. Scared of flying, scared of meeting Jerries, scared of fighting. Scared of being shot down, burning to death or drowning in the Channel. I’m scared of everything, Alison, but the worst thing is that I’m scared of anyone knowing. That’s why you mustn’t tell Andy. You mustn’t tell anyone.’ His eyes bored into hers. ‘I can’t be grounded, Alison. I can’t.’
‘But why not?’ she asked helplessly. ‘If it’s that bad … Tubby, you know what they say. A frightened pilot is a dangerous pilot. You shouldn’t be flying.’
‘It’s not true,’ he said. ‘I’m not dangerous. If anything, I fly better. It’s like walking a tightrope – I’m more careful
than I’ve ever been before. I’m a good pilot, Alison.’
‘I know you are. Andrew’s told me that. One of the best he’s ever flown with. But all the same …’ She shook her head, and then asked, ‘How long have you been feeling like this?’
‘A few weeks. Four or five. It came on quite suddenly, one day. Nothing had happened, nothing out of the ordinary. It just suddenly hit me – a wave of fear, like a huge wall of water sweeping over me. I wasn’t even fighting at the time, just stoodging along over the Channel. We haven’t been fighting all that much lately, you know that. It seemed so stupid – I wouldn’t take any notice of it. Thought maybe I was just a bit tired, you know.’
‘I expect that’s all it is,’ she said. ‘You need a rest. Don’t you think that’s it, Tubby? Don’t you think that if you told Andrew, or the Wing Commander, or went along and saw the doctor, that’s what they’d say? A week or two off flying duties, that’s probably all you’d need.’
‘I can’t. Once I started to talk about it, they’d know – they’d see me shaking. Look at me now.’ He was indeed beginning to shake, his hands trembling violently, then becoming a shuddering which crept over his whole body. His teeth chattering, he stared desperately at Alison and she gazed back, horrified.
‘Tubby, you must see someone—’
‘No!’ he shook his head emphatically. ‘I’ve told you, I can’t. I’d be grounded for good, and there’s no need. It’s not interfering with my flying. I can still do my job. I just don’t enjoy it any more,’ he ended in a dispirited tone.
The shuddering had eased as quickly as it had begun. Alison looked doubtfully at him. He grinned weakly and said, ‘How about that cup of tea?’
Slowly, she got to her feet and gave him another anxious glance as she went out to the kitchen and filled the kettle. As she found cups and saucers, warmed the pot and made the tea, she wondered what she should do. Her instinct was to tell her husband, yet she had given Tubby her promise. She went back to the sitting room with the tray of tea.
