No Regrets: A Novel of Love and Lies in World War II England (The Thornton Trilogy Book 1)

by Payne, Mary Christian

  Sloan was still in Burma. After consistently receiving letters from him, in March, 1944, all correspondence had come to a halt. Anne had no idea what to think. What in blazes was going on? She read everything she could get her hands on, but there was no information. She had no way of knowing that a Japanese advance through Burma had isolated the British garrison at a place called Imphal. A three-month siege began, and 150,000 men had to rely entirely on air supply for their survival. More than four hundred tons of stores were flown daily into a heavily guarded valley, with only three squadrons of Spitfires available for air defence and six squadrons of Hurricanes for attack purposes. Major Sloan Thornton was one of those men, and it was a dire time. When the ordeal ended, with undisputed air supremacy enjoyed by the British, it was midsummer, and the largest battle of the war was upon them.

  Sloan was finally transferred back to England to lead a squadron that would take part in the infamous invasion later known as D-Day. It was code-named Operation Overlord and was the largest amphibious invasion ever known. Sloan wasn’t the only airman, known to the residents of Thornton-on-Sea, who would be participating in that heroic effort. Ted Cabot was there too.

  On June 5, 1944, the day preceding D-Day, Bomber Command simulated an Allied air invasion by dropping dummy paratroops. Lancaster’s and Stirlings also flew at fixed intervals over the Channel, to mimic the approach of an invading fleet. During the night, aircraft dropped the British 6th Airborne Division in the Caen area of France. On that same day, Rome was liberated by Allied forces. Although Ted and Sloan had never met one another, both took part in the D-Day operation. The invasion of June 6, went very well. Casualties were heavy and American forces on Omaha Beach suffered many losses. Ted was shot down and seriously wounded at Port-en-Bessin. He was rescued and sent to Number Fifty Mobile Field Hospital near a landing strip. There, he was stabilized and flown to a hospital in England. Sloan was successful in linking up with other Allied Forces and took part in cutting the rail links between Carentan and Cherbourg. With the successful toe-hold established under the air umbrella along the Normandy coast, emphasis was then shifted to ground operations.

  Giselle didn’t know Ted had been wounded. None of the civilian population knew about the operation until it was over. Thankfully, Ted had placed Giselle’s name on the list of persons he wished to have notified in case of emergency. Thus, on June 8, 1944, she received a wire telling her that Major Cabot was confined to the Prince of Wales Hospital in London. There was no hint as to how badly injured he might be. She was frantic with worry. Elise helped her friend throw a few items into a travelling case, and catch the first train to London. From there, Giselle made her way to the hospital. When she arrived at Ted’s room, she was horrified. He lay unconscious, swathed in bandages from head to toe. There were only small slits for his eyes and mouth, and from what she could ascertain, he was missing a leg. Giselle was a strong person, and though she felt like falling apart, she didn’t allow herself to do so. Her words of months past were entirely forgotten. She certainly had something to offer Ted now.

  Searching out a physician, she enquired about his injuries. ‘Yes’, she was told, Ted had lost a leg. He’d also been badly burned over a large portion of his body. His condition was critical. For nine days and nights, Giselle never left his side, except to grab a bite to eat. She held his hand, wiped his brow, and even assisted nurses when they changed bandages. Very, very slowly, he was removed from the critical list, but his condition was anything but good. When he finally regained consciousness, he said he wanted her to leave. He was extremely despondent and wouldn’t consider letting Giselle stay with him. Nor would he speak of the future. Ted felt he no longer had anything to offer her and didn’t want Giselle to spend the rest of her life caring for an invalid. The tables had turned. Giselle refused to listen. She stated clearly that she loved him and would always love him. His injuries had nothing to do with that love. She said she wouldn’t even consider not spending the rest of her life with him. In the end, he gave up the fight, weeping over the love she showed to him.

  He spent six months in hospital healing from burns. It wouldn’t have mattered one way or the other to Giselle, but Ted was relieved that his face had escaped the worst scarring. Giselle took a small bed-sit close to the hospital, so she could be with him every day. Lady Celia and Lord Rowan understood completely, and even continued to pay her wages. Ted’s family in America was notified, but he made it abundantly clear that he didn’t want them to find their way to London. It was the end of the war for Ted. When he was able to write his family a letter, he told them of his plans to marry Giselle. The decision was made to wed in England before travelling to the United States. That couldn’t be considered until a peace treaty was signed. In spite of the resounding victory on D-Day, and the liberation of France, the Germans still refused to admit defeat, and it was another year before all hostilities came to an end. In the meantime, Ted was transferred to a second rehabilitation hospital, where he learned to negotiate an artificial leg.

  By the time happy day arrived, May 8, 1945, Ted was back in Thornton-on-Sea, ensconced in a guest suite at Highcroft Hall. There was pandemonium throughout England. Huge crowds, many dressed in red, white and blue, gathered outside Buckingham Palace in London, and cheered as the King, Queen, and two Princesses came out onto the balcony. Earlier, tens of thousands of people listened as the King’s speech was relayed by loudspeaker to those who’d gathered in Trafalgar and Parliament Squares. Winston Churchill made a broadcast to the nation. In his wonderful and dramatic way, he told the people of Great Britain and her Dominions that the war was over. In it, he paid tribute to the men and women who had laid down their lives for victory, as well as to all those “who had fought valiantly on land, sea and in the air.” Citizens of Thornton –on-Sea and Whitfield Cove rose up and celebrated with the rest of England. Ted could hear the cheers from his room.

  ***

  As a burst of hail swept the road outside of the train depot in the village of Thornton-on-Sea, Sloan found himself in the centre of a crowd seeking shelter. It was unusual to encounter a crowd in the tiny hamlet, but it was teatime, and shop owners on the High street were out and about. The rain reminded him of the day he’d met Elise. Everything reminded him of that day. He’d tried and tried to remove her from his thoughts, to no avail. It had been over five years, and her face still lingered in the recesses of his mind. He still treasured her photo, wrinkled and badly worn. He was home, the war was over, and it was imperative that he get on with the rest of his life. He had a clear-cut agenda and was anxious to follow it.

  After seeing his parents, his first task was to see Anne. That was only proper. Although she’d been understanding in her letters, he suspected that she still harboured feelings for him. He hoped he was wrong, but it was hard to believe that the girl who’d said ‘yes’ when proposed to, could casually brush off his sudden and shocking rejection. Anne had undoubtedly been crushed by his letter saying she wasn’t the one for him. He was terribly anxious to see Elise again, but knew it would be the height of rudeness to ignore Anne. It was, after all, still important that he keep close ties with his childhood friend.

  She’d told him long ago, after he’d written and admitted he didn’t love her as he should, that she didn’t intend to tell her parents about the end of their engagement in case Sloan changed his mind before the war ended. In her opinion, there was no reason to put them through the anguish they’d surely endure, unless it was absolutely necessary. Obviously, at that time, Anne had been holding on to the hope that the comfort of familiar surroundings would bring Sloan back to his senses. ‘Yes’, she’d assured him over and over; she understood what had happened; she wasn’t angry. But, he still had doubts. Now that he’d returned to Thornton-on-Sea, he’d have to face her, and make certain she really did understand. Sloan was well-aware that the story he’d told sounded odd, and it wasn’t hard to understand why she might be holding on to false hopes. He was also concerned because Anne was, w
ithout question, the most beloved girl in their small village. She’d always been good, kind and lovely. Nevertheless, he’d had to be honest with her. It was clear that doing so was going to cause despair to a great many people, including his parents. Anne’s mother and father would be livid.

  He wouldn’t have argued that the entire conundrum was irrational. Every bit of his indecision and pain was due to a chance encounter with someone he hadn’t been certain he’d ever see again. But her memory was so fresh in his mind. After having met her, there was no possibility of his marrying Anne, or anyone else. Yet, Lord Rowan and Lady Celia adored her. Her parents were close friends with his family. Lord and Lady Thornton thought of her as a daughter. Anne was of the aristocracy. From what little he knew about Elise, she was descended from Russians. Lord only knew what her lineage was. Both sets of parents would probably consider her a foreigner of dubious stature. Lord and Lady Thornton wouldn’t be pleased at the prospect of their son bringing Elise to Highcroft Hall as a future countess. But the fact remained that he didn’t love Anne. As much as it would pain everybody, they would have to face reality.

  It seemed like another lifetime when he’d asked Anne to marry him. He wasn’t the same young, naïve boy who’d left on that bright September morning, in 1939. From Dunkirk to D-Day and countless battles in between, he’d evolved into a mature man, whose outlook on life had altered dramatically. There’d been several close brushes with death. Such frightening moments had caused Sloan to ponder life’s most profound and mysterious questions. Why was he here? What did it all mean? What was love? The only question he felt equipped to answer was the one concerning love. As soon as practical, he intended to see Elise. Although he scarcely knew her, she was the sun and the moon to him, and he wholeheartedly believed that once they had time to be together, she’d realize they were meant for one another.

  Sloan hadn’t told his parents when he’d be arriving, since he hadn’t been certain himself. Trains were notoriously difficult to predict in the post-war frenzy. Thousands of soldiers were returning to their homes, and extra carriages had been added to accommodate them. His train wasn’t even listed on the regular departures and arrivals board. When he reached Thornton-on-Sea, he left his gear at the depot, to be looked after by the stationmaster, and walked the three miles to his home. There’d been a brief, heavy shower, but when it ended it was a beautiful summer day. Tall trees shaded his way with thick foliage, and the fields were green, dotted with white sheep and spotted cattle. Flowers bloomed in the front yards of small cottages and spilled from flower boxes. While he’d seen the scars of war, when his train travelled through London, the peaceful countryside appeared untouched and as pristine as it had always been. Thornton-on-Sea sat high above the ocean, and he could see the blue of the water on that bright, sunny afternoon. It was just as he’d remembered. The breeze rustled his light brown hair, and it was heaven to smell the fresh salt air.

  Finally he could see the roof of Highcroft Hall, rising stately and grand in the distance. There’d been many times during the war when he’d wondered if he’d ever see his home again. Beautiful, elegant Highcroft, where his ancestors had dwelled since the 1600s. It was one of the country’s finest examples of a seventeenth century, Jacobean country house, with an impressive great hall, magnificent reception rooms, libraries and a Gothic-style chapel. Capability Brown had designed the formal gardens, which were spectacular. It was as unchanged as the ancient Lime trees at the entrance. He quickened his pace, soon finding himself standing at the imposing entrance, where wisteria and Ivy climbed the red brick façade, and roses meandered to the second level.

  While Sloan made his way toward the house, his parents were sitting in the drawing room, wondering when their son would appear. They’d had a wire from him when he was mustered out, but no news since. Lord Rowan paced the room, jingling money in his pocket.

  “Why should it be taking so long?” he complained to his wife, Lady Celia. “It’s been nearly a week since we received the wire. You don’t suppose something has happened to him, do you?”

  Lady Celia was sitting on the striped, satin-upholstered sofa, calmly knitting.

  “Rowan, you should know enough about the military to understand that one has to be patient when dealing with them. You used to tell me that everything connected with service to one’s country involves waiting. He’ll be along just as soon as he can be,” she responded. “We must remember to ring Anne the moment he arrives. You don’t suppose he’d stop to see her first? After all, she is his intended bride.”

  “I rather think not. Of course he’ll be anxious to see her, but knowing Sloan, he’ll be wanting to set foot in Highcroft Hall before anything else. He’ll probably ring Anne, and ask her to pop over. After all, it’s really no distance at all.”

  There was silence between the two, and the only sound was Lady Celia’s knitting needles, clicking and clacking as they finished another row of stitches.

  “Won’t it be lovely to have him home? And a hero, too. They don’t give the Victoria Cross to everyone. The Mayor told me they’ve planned a celebration in his honour. As soon as they know he’s arrived, preparations will get underway,” Lord Rowan stated proudly.

  “I know, Rowan. It’s all too magnificent. I’ve made certain his room is ready. There are fresh flowers, and everything is just as he left it.”

  “Yes, I expect... Wait, Celia. I believe I heard footsteps on the gravel.”

  Just as he spoke, the front door opened, and Sloan was there, standing in the flagstone great hall. Both parents rushed to greet him.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  “Sloan,” they cried out simultaneously.

  Their handsome son stood alone in the wide, expansive entry. He was taller and a bit thinner. On the other hand, he was no longer a boy. His arms and chest had filled out, and he wore his uniform with great dignity. His dark, blue eyes were as intense as they’d always been, and he hadn’t lost his winning smile. There were small lines etched beside his mouth and next to his penetrating eyes, from years of flying aeroplanes into sunrises and sunsets. His father shook his hand, and his mother stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. Strangely, there was a feeling of unease – as if the two older people weren’t familiar with the younger man. His mother began to fuss nervously.

  “Sloan, your room is just as you left it. I thought you would like that. Of course, if you’d prefer, you may have your choice of rooms. I – that is – we thought you would want to sleep in your boyhood chamber. But if that isn’t acceptable...”

  “Mother, do calm down. Of course it’s acceptable. I’ve thought of that room for the entire duration. In fact, let me go up there now and change into something more comfortable. I wouldn’t care if I never put this uniform on again.”

  “Oh, but Son. Anne will want to see how splendid you look in your uniform, with your coveted medals and your silver wings. Do wait until she’s had that chance.”

  “Anne? But I had no plans to see her this evening. I thought we could enjoy a quiet time together on my first night home.”

  “Of course we can do that, if it’s what you want,” said Lady Celia. “Your father and I just thought you would want to see your lovely bride-to-be as soon as possible.”

  “Yes – well – of course I‘m anxious to see her, but I have things I want to speak to you about. Don’t you suppose we might keep my homecoming a secret until tomorrow?”

  Lord Rowan was a bit perplexed, but it was pleasing to think that Sloan wanted to be alone with his parents after their long separation.

  “We shall do whatever you wish, Son. I don’t see any harm in a tiny, white lie. I don’t think it’s necessary to say that you didn’t come in tonight – perhaps that you arrived later than expected.”

  “Yes, that will do,” Sloan smiled. “So, let me put on other clothing and wash up. I’ll be back in a tick.”

  He took the staircase two steps at a time, and his parents stood at the bottom, with worshipping looks on their faces. Lady Ce
lia turned to Lord Rowan.

  “Thank goodness I never moved his clothing. Do you think any of it will still fit?”

  “I strongly doubt it. But let him prowl through his cupboard and see. He’ll be needing to outfit himself with a new wardrobe. I should think a trip to London will be in order.”

  Lady Celia put her arms around her husband. “Oh Rowan. It’s so good to have him home. After so many fretful years. He looks very dashing, don’t you think?”

  “Yes. Quite. A bit thin perhaps, but a few of Ruth’s excellent meals and he’ll be right as rain.”

  Lady Celia rang the bell for Mrs. Littleton, knowing of her keen desire to see Sloan - to welcome him home from the war. She came quickly, straightening her apron and patting her hastily pinned-up, white hair.

  “Has he come home?” she enquired, nearly breathless with anticipation.

  “Yes. He’s gone to his room to freshen up. He’ll be anxious to see you. Could you bring a tea tray? By the time you return, he’ll be back down,” Lady Celia requested.

  Mrs. Littleton smiled broadly and scurried off to prepare a tray. He’d always held a special place in her heart. She’d tended to him almost as much as his Nanny had. Grace had watched him grow from a tot with dark-blonde, tousled hair to a strikingly handsome young man. She’d seen him off to Eton, Oxford and the RAF. Now, he was home for good. Back to Thornton-on-Sea, where he would marry the enchanting Anne Whitfield and take his place in the long line of nobility who’d overseen the magnificent estate she’d grown to love as if it were her own.

  Mrs. Littleton spread the news to other members of the staff. By the time Sloan descended the staircase, they were lined up, waiting to shake his hand and warmly welcome him home. Sloan was delighted to see all of them. He gave cuddles to Grace and Ruth and shook the hands with the gentlemen on the staff. He also made certain to acknowledge those who were new to Highcroft Hall, since his departure in 1939. Giselle Dupris was one of those. He’d been on the alert for her name, since he knew she lived with Elise. When he reached her, he paused.