by Ellie Dean
She was sorry to see that St James’s had been denuded of all its finery, for it was a stark reminder that a war was raging not so very far away. The interior was gloomy now the windows had been boarded over, the only light coming from dozens of flickering candles. There was no cloth on the carved stone altar, just a simple wooden cross and a spray of dark green holly, the red berries lustrous in the candlelight.
Carol tugged at Dolly’s arm. ‘There’s Betty,’ she whispered, ‘and look, she’s kept us a place.’
Dolly smiled at the pretty girl she’d got to know over the years Carol had been living here, and as the two girls hugged and began to speak in whispers, she glanced down the pew and froze. Felix was at the other end, handsome in his uniform despite the silver hair and lines around his eyes and mouth, the greatcoat not quite concealing the broad shoulders and strong torso she remembered so very well.
Their eyes met, and in that single, shocking moment she knew she’d been foolish to ever believe she could withstand the impact of seeing him again, or pretend that she no longer loved him, for those eyes drew her – the memory of his lips on her skin sent a thrill of yearning through her and all she wanted to do was walk into the shelter of his arms and be held to his heart.
‘Mum? Mum, are you all right?’
It took all her strength to tear her gaze away, and in a daze, she looked into her daughter’s worried face. ‘I’m fine,’ she said, and quickly sat down before her legs failed her.
‘Are you sure?’ whispered Carol. ‘Only you’ve gone very pale.’
‘I’m just cold,’ she hissed back. ‘Do stop fussing, Carol, and concentrate on the service.’
Carol didn’t seem convinced, but she turned back to listen to Samuel Fotherington, who was talking quite animatedly as he welcomed the large gathering and asked them to join him in a prayer of thanksgiving for the long life of the departed Edith Rayner.
The shy, awkward man seemed to have gained in self-confidence since deciding to join a closed order, Dolly thought distractedly, all too aware that Felix was leaning forward and trying to catch her eye again.
She lowered her head and covered her eyes as the congregation joined in to recite the Lord’s Prayer, but instead of those familiar words she’d learned at her mother’s knee, she silently begged for the strength to resist Felix, and to be released from the riot of emotions that were assailing her. His presence seemed to fill the church, binding them together with gossamer threads even though there were at least six other people between them – but even as she willed herself to ignore him, she knew there would be no escape.
The congregation stood to sing ‘We Plough the Fields and Scatter’ without the aid of an organ or even a choir, which made it very halting and ragged. Dolly concentrated hard on the words that had been hastily printed on sheets of repulped and rather coarse paper, but they danced before her as a persistent little voice in her head ordered her to look round – to seek him out again for just one more glance.
She managed to resist all the way through ‘Abide with Me’ and ‘All Things Bright and Beautiful’, and then Carol nudged her, and as she turned her head to see what she wanted, she caught Felix watching her in puzzlement. She blinked and looked away.
‘What is it?’ she murmured beneath the sound of over a hundred people getting to their feet.
‘You’re acting very strangely, Mum. Are you sure you’re all right?’
Dolly patted her cheek. ‘I always get restless in church,’ she said softly, ‘probably because I fully expect to be hit by a bolt of lightning for daring to be in one.’
Carol smiled uncertainly, but further conversation was halted by the vicar leading the cortege down the aisle towards the door.
Dolly saw her chance. ‘I’m going home to let Nipper out,’ she muttered to Carol. ‘I’ll see you at the wake.’
Before Carol could reply Dolly had quickly filtered into the crush of people shuffling behind the cortege and managed to ease her way through until she was once more out in the bitter wind. Carol was clearly puzzled by her behaviour, but it was too late to worry about that now, and it was imperative she got away before Felix emerged from the church.
As the cortege arrived at the graveside Dolly darted round the corner and hurried along the side of the church to the back gate, and quickly ran down the steep, narrow path until she’d reached Carol’s lane. She realised that should anyone be watching, she must make a strange sight in her fur coat, fancy hat and high heels, stumbling over the blasted cobbles in danger of breaking an ankle, but this was not the time to care what others thought.
She ran up the cinder path, through the front door and slammed it behind her. Leaning against it she took a while to catch her breath, for it had been a long time since she’d had to run anywhere. Once she felt slightly calmer, she slipped off her coat and gloves and walked to the kitchen door to let a scrabbling, whining Nipper free.
Wary of him damaging her good stockings, she sent him out into the tiny back garden and distractedly watched through the window as he trotted about and watered the hedge. With her arms folded tightly about her waist, she wondered what the heck had happened to her usual ice-cool reasoning. It was Felix, of course, who’d stirred up her emotions and made her act before thinking, but then he’d always managed to do that.
‘You’re a fool, Dolly Cardew,’ she muttered crossly. ‘A stupid, empty-headed fool to run away in a panic like that, when you should have just faced him and got it over with.’
Nipper scampered back indoors and Dolly quickly wiped the mud from his paws before going into the sitting room to stir up the fire with some vigour and try to regain her composure. The rotund little dog followed her in and tried to join her on the couch, but she very firmly told him to sit by the fire and behave.
Dolly lit a cigarette and stared into the red heart of the fire. She’d acted foolishly and no doubt Carol would question her, but there were more pressing things to worry about, for this moment of respite would be fleeting, and she knew, with every fibre of her being, that before too long he would come looking for her. Yet she wasn’t ready to face him – couldn’t think how to play it – or what to say. But she knew one thing for certain; she had to damned well pull herself together and use the experience of a lifetime to end this once and for all.
She puffed furiously on the cigarette, wondering how she’d found the courage to calmly face moments of great danger during the last war – and yet, at the sight of that particular pair of blue eyes, she’d lost all composure and had become as helpless and addle-headed as a lovesick schoolgirl. Eyeing the bottle of whisky she was tempted to have a drink, but rejected the idea almost immediately, for it wouldn’t help and she needed to keep a clear head.
The click of the latch on the garden gate sounded loud in the silence, and as she tensed, Nipper scrambled to his feet and started to bark. She hushed him, hoping it might only be Carol and Betty, but he ran to the door and continued barking as he jumped up and down.
Dolly grabbed him as she heard footsteps on the cinder path followed swiftly by the rap of the knocker. He was here. She was momentarily tempted to hide in the kitchen until he gave up and went away. Yet she knew he’d only come back, and that was the last thing she wanted, so she carried a squirming Nipper into the sitting room and closed the door on him.
Running her hands nervously down her pencil-slim skirt, she touched the pearls at her neck, quickly donned her fur coat, and took a deep breath before opening the door.
He was much taller than she remembered, and she had to look up at him even though she was wearing very high heels. ‘Hello, Felix,’ she managed.
He took off his hat and tucked it under his arm as his gaze devoured her. ‘I can’t believe it’s really you,’ he breathed.
‘Fate works in mysterious ways,’ she replied with much greater calm than she’d expected. ‘You look well. Life has clearly been very good to you.’
‘You haven’t changed at all,’ he said in admiration. ‘My goodness
, Dolly, the years have hardly touched you.’
She didn’t respond to his flattery but stood in the doorway barring entry to the cottage as the dog continued to bark from the other room. ‘Is the funeral over already?’ she asked, needing to keep this conversation on an impersonal level.
‘I guess so,’ he replied with a frown. ‘I slipped away as soon as I realised you weren’t there, and suspected you might have come here to Carol’s cottage. Why did you leave so suddenly, Dolly?’
‘The dog needed to be let out.’ She fastened her fur coat. ‘I was actually about to leave for the wake.’
He looked down at her solemnly, the intensity of his gaze piercing to her very soul. ‘I’d hate to think you were running away from me, Dolly, because I mean you no harm.’
‘Don’t flatter yourself,’ she retorted, fumbling to pull on her leather gloves. ‘I’m afraid of no one – least of all you, Felix.’
His reaction was unexpected, for he threw back his head and roared with laughter. ‘Oh, Dolly, my fierce, darling little Dolly – you haven’t changed at all – and thank God for it.’
‘You can thank whomsoever you please,’ she said stiffly. ‘But fierce or not, I’m not your Dolly.’
He reached out his hand and brushed her cheek with his fingers. ‘And I’m real sorry about that,’ he murmured. ‘There’s not a day I haven’t regretted treating you so badly – not a day when I haven’t wondered where you were and what you were doing – and if you’d found someone who could give you what I was unable to.’
The touch of his hand was like electricity and it coursed through her, making her insides melt. She gathered her senses and firmly removed his hand from her face. ‘Life has been very good to me since you ended things between us, Felix,’ she said coolly. ‘So I suppose I should be grateful to you for opening my eyes to your true character. It was a harsh lesson, but once I knew you to be a liar and a cheat, it served me well.’
‘All that was a long time ago, Dolly, and I’ve said I was sorry.’
She saw the sadness and regret in him and hardened her resolve. ‘Too little and far too late,’ she said briskly.
His eyes clouded. ‘You hate me, don’t you?’
Her heart cried out to him that she loved him beyond reason, but she refused to listen to it. ‘I don’t care enough to hate you, Felix.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that, Dolly,’ he said on a sigh, ‘but I guess it’s what I deserve. I just hoped that, since fate has brought us together again, we might be able to put the past behind us and be friends.’
Dolly’s pulse raced as she saw the yearning in his eyes. She wanted to touch him, to feel his arms about her, his lips against hers – wanted to be his lover, not just his friend. But even friendship was dangerous when so many emotions were involved. She avoided his gaze and made a sterling effort to remain calm.
‘I shall be leaving here in a couple of days, so I doubt we’ll meet again,’ she said evenly. ‘But thank you for coming to apologise – I realise it couldn’t have been easy.’
‘It was the easiest thing in the world,’ he said sadly, ‘because it was heartfelt.’
Dolly almost made the fatal mistake of touching the pearl necklace he’d given her all those years ago, but managed to divert the gesture into pulling up her coat collar. Unable to resist firing one last barb, she looked at him squarely. ‘I hope the rehearsals go well, Felix, and that it won’t be too long before you can return to your wife and son.’
She saw the flicker in his eyes and knew she’d hit home, but as she made to close the door on him, she discovered there was a large, shining brown brogue in the way. ‘We’ve finished here, Felix,’ she said coldly. ‘Please remove your foot.’
‘Not until I’ve had my say,’ he said determinedly. ‘My wife has passed away, and I came here offering an olive branch. I can’t blame you for throwing it back in my face, but although I’m guilty of a great many things, I want you to know that I never lied about loving you.’
Dolly took a trembling breath and resisted reaching out to him, reminding herself that although his love might have been true, he hadn’t been honest about anything else. ‘I’m glad to know you didn’t lie about that, Felix, but you made promises you knew you couldn’t keep, led me to believe that we’d always be together – and then went back to the wife and child you’d conveniently not mentioned during the months we were together.’
‘It had to be, Dolly. You know the reason why.’
She saw the pain in his eyes and steeled herself against it – angry with him now, the old hurts rising once again to remind her of how badly it had all ended.
‘I know what you told me at the time, and I accepted it as the truth because it was clear you wanted to end things between us – and I still retained enough pride not to question you – but that didn’t make what happened any less painful.’
‘I’m so sorry, Dolly,’ he murmured. ‘If I could have changed things—’
‘But you couldn’t,’ she interrupted, ‘and now too many years have passed for either of us to harbour regrets over a doomed love affair which should never have begun.’
His demeanour was one of defeat and sadness as he slowly took his foot from the threshold. ‘I still have great feelings for you, Dolly. Is there nothing I can do or say to atone for the hurt I’ve caused?’
Dolly was about to tell him no, when she realised there was something – and although it was risky, it just might ensure what the Americans called ‘closure’ on the whole disastrous business. ‘There is one thing you could do – although I wouldn’t call it atonement, but more of a kindness.’
‘Anything,’ he said eagerly. ‘I’ll do anything you ask of me.’
He was like a little boy, she thought with affection. A little boy desperate to find favour after behaving badly, and if it had been at all possible, she would have hugged him, forgiven him and told him how profoundly this meeting had affected her – and how he had not been the only one to keep secrets and tell lies.
But she remained stiffly in the doorway, her expression giving away nothing of her thoughts. ‘I want you to promise you’ll never mention our previous relationship to anyone – especially Carol. She doesn’t need to know anything about my youthful indiscretions. In fact it’s probably best if you stay away from her just in case you let something slip.’
She forced a fleeting smile. ‘I remember too well how easily you can get carried away in the heat of the moment and say all sorts of things you didn’t mean to say.’
He reddened and shrugged in embarrassment. ‘I guess that’s about right, Dolly. I never did learn to curb my tongue when I get enthusiastic about something.’
That was one of your most endearing attractions, she thought sadly, along with your smile and the way you used to look at me as if you could see the moon and the stars in my eyes.
He looked at her intently as if he could read her thoughts, and then blinked and cleared his throat. ‘I’m guessing Carol Porter’s your daughter,’ he said, and carried on before Dolly could reply, ‘I’m glad you found someone to make you happy, and give you what I couldn’t. But it came as quite a shock to see Carol at that meeting. She looks so like you, I thought time had stood still.’
Carol’s pulse was racing, her heart hammering against her ribs with such ferocity she was certain he must be able to hear it. ‘Do I have your promise, Felix?’ she pressed.
He gazed down at her as if needing to imprint her face in his memory before they were again torn apart by bad timing and circumstance. ‘Dolly, if that is all I can do to make you believe how sorry I am, then you have my solemn promise not to breathe a word to anyone.’
‘Thank you, Felix.’ She stepped back into the hall, her hand clutching the edge of the door in readiness to close it.
He settled his hat on his head, and his eyes were suspiciously bright as he gazed down at her. ‘Goodbye, sweet, sweet girl,’ he said softly. ‘I’ll never forget you.’
She could feel the storm of emo
tions gathering strength within her as he turned and strode away. And when he didn’t look back or falter before he disappeared from view, that storm became a maelstrom she could no longer control.
Closing the door, she all but collapsed on the stairs, trembling, not from the bitter cold of this winter day, but from the rending of her heart as the tears fell unheeded down her face.
16
Carol had not joined Betty and the others as they’d left the graveside for the wake in the Queen’s Arms, but told Betty she’d catch up with her later to hear all about her new posting and billet. She was still concerned about her mother, and needed to check that she was all right.
Dolly had clearly been disturbed by something in the church, and she hadn’t been at all convinced by her explanation. It was true she’d never felt comfortable with religion, and that Nipper probably did need letting out – but the way she’d darted off so determinedly had looked suspiciously like a bid for escape, and Carol was intrigued and worried about what could have been behind it.
She’d rounded the corner and was about to go down the hill to her cottage when she saw General Addington standing on her doorstep in what looked like a serious exchange with her mother.
She frowned and her footsteps faltered. Why would he be visiting when he must have seen both of them in the church and assumed they would be going on to the wake where he could have said what he needed without this subterfuge? The thought that he must have followed Dolly home was a bit unnerving, but her mother was perfectly capable of handling awkward situations.
Carol could see, even from here, how stiff and defensive her mother was as she faced him, and as the general reached out to caress Dolly’s cheek, Carol knew beyond doubt that they weren’t the strangers Dolly had led her to believe they were.
She moved silently into the deep shadows of a doorway, unable to tear her gaze from the intimate moment being played out on her doorstep. She saw her mother firmly push his hand away and there was a short exchange between them before she tried to close the door only to find it blocked by his foot.
