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Only Love Can Heal

Page 6

by Rosie Harris


  Knowing that he was to be put in charge of a new department and that his work load would be greatly increased, he had been dreading the thought of her leaving. Now, the chance of her continuing to work alongside him was a bonus indeed.

  ‘There shouldn’t be any problem,’ he said cautiously. ‘What sort of period did you have in mind?’

  ‘I hadn’t really decided. Could we say three months to start with. It depends on how things work out …’ she hesitated, colouring.

  A feeling of unease went through him, as he saw the anxiety in her dark brown eyes, in case she was doing this because of her feelings for him. ‘Look,’ he blurted out, ‘I don’t want you to do this because of me …’

  He stopped quickly as he saw her bewilderment and realised with a mixture of shock and dismay that he had judged the situation wrongly.

  ‘I … I thought you’d heard that I was being given a new department and that perhaps you thought I couldn’t cope,’ he added lamely.

  ‘No, I hadn’t heard,’ she said quietly. ‘My reason for staying, as well as for being so indecisive about how long it should be, is that my fiancé is still out in Germany and I have no idea when he will be coming home.’

  ‘That’s fine. Couldn’t be better.’ His relief made him overly delighted. ‘I’m sure we can arrange for you to leave whenever you want to,’ he added quickly.

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Funny, we’ve worked together all these years and I never knew you had a fiancé.’

  ‘No? Well, I suppose I’m rather like you, I don’t talk about my private life very much.’

  Her brown eyes were so candid as they met his that his heart thudded. For a moment he wondered if she knew his secret, then dismissed it as nonsense. A girl like Kate Russell wouldn’t be so openly friendly with him if she knew the darker side of his nature, he thought ruefully. For one bitter sweet moment he felt cheated. Although he was almost twenty years older than Kate he knew that if he had been the marrying kind then she was the one woman he would have chosen.

  Chapter 7

  Robert Campbell groaned audibly as the curtains were whisked back and brilliant sunshine flooded the bedroom. It was almost as though someone had beamed a searchlight directly into his eyes. He struggled to sit up, but it felt as if a steel band gripped his head and he lowered it carefully back onto the pillow, dragging the covers up over his face to shut out the glare of the new day. Muzzily, he tried to remember where he was.

  ‘Good morning, Lieutenant. Your morning tea.’

  Tentatively he lowered the sheet as he heard the sound of china rattling. His mouth was parched and his lips felt cracked and dry. Propping himself up on one elbow he reached for the cup. The liquid was hot and sweet and as he gulped it down everything began to come back into focus.

  ‘Thanks! I needed that,’ he grinned at the plump German woman who was now picking up his uniform from the floor where he had dropped it the night before. ‘Sorry about the mess … I had one too many last night.’

  She nodded, her round face inscrutable as she walked towards the door, his uniform draped over her arm.

  ‘Hold on, where are you taking my clothes?’

  ‘To have it pressed. I will bring it back when you have had your bath, in time for you to take breakfast.’

  As the door closed behind her dumpy figure he stacked the pillows behind his head, and lay back, eyes half closed, enjoying the comfort of his surroundings. It was a large airy room, tastefully furnished. The walls were papered in a delicate peach shade, that contrasted so well with the dark woodwork and pale green deep-pile carpet. The figured walnut bedroom suite was handsomely carved and the bed he was lying in was massive. He stretched luxuriously as it all came back to him where he was and why he had a hangover. Last night he had been drinking until almost midnight with a crowd of other officers from XXX Corps who were also staying at Bad Harzburg. He’d been there for almost a week and this would be his last full day, he thought with regret.

  In pre-war days it had been the most fashionable resort in the Harz Mountains. Now, since they were not allowed home to England, it had been taken over by the British Army as a Leave Centre and was intended to provide a complete break from military atmosphere.

  After almost two years spent either under canvas, in makeshift barracks, or requisitioned SS quarters, Robert was enjoying every moment. There were splendidly comfortable lounges, a dining room with panoramic views and several attractive bars, as well as excellent leisure facilities.

  He took a deep breath of the scented air that wafted into the room through the french windows that opened onto a balcony. From where he was lying he was able to look down on the bright red roofs of the town below. Beyond them he could see the chequered fields, dappled by the bright early morning sunshine, rising towards the Bad Harzburg hills which were closely thatched with pine and fir. He could even see the cable carway which carried people to the top of Burgberg, outlined invitingly against the cloudless blue sky. 1,600 feet above sea-level, in less than ten minutes! All the benefits of mountaineering without any of the toil, he thought with a smile remembering his visit.

  There was so much to do at Bad Harzburg that it was impossible to cram everything into just one week. The swimming pool, with its modern springboards, was one of the largest he’d ever used. There were also lawn tennis courts, a clay pigeon shoot and it had even been possible to go on a fishing trip with all the tackle supplied. He had thoroughly enjoyed that, especially since arrangements had been made afterwards to cook his catch.

  As soon as the chambermaid returned with his uniform, he dressed and breakfasted, eager to be out of doors and making the most of his last day. After wandering around the town he ordered a coffee at one of the open-air cafés.

  ‘And some cakes? They are filled with real cream, quite delicious.’

  Although he knew it was really much too early in the morning for such delicacies, the pretty black-haired girl, in her tight-fitting red dress, was so persuasive, and her smile so winning, that he agreed to try one.

  There was only one thing his holiday lacked to make it perfect, he thought as he settled back, and that was Kate.

  He suspected she was as unsettled as he was. He had been very surprised when she had written to say she was staying on in the ATS and he still couldn’t fathom her reason for doing so. Whenever he thought about it, his imagination worked overtime and he wondered what this chap Captain Parkes was like. He visualised a darkly handsome, polished type with a clipped military manner. The sort of officer who would fit in with General Sir Henry Russell’s idea of what a future son-in-law should be like, he thought censoriously.

  The memory of his last meeting with Sir Henry still rankled. Yet, in some ways he was almost grateful to him. His disapproval had acted like a challenge. He’d already been made up to full Lieutenant since he’d been in Germany. If he played his cards right, he might even manage to get to the rank of Captain before he was demobbed. That would impress the old buffer, he thought cynically. He wondered if Sir Henry had mellowed in any way now that he had retired from the War Office or whether he was still as aristocratic and arrogant as ever.

  If only he knew when he was likely to be sent home, Robert thought as he drank his coffee. After VE Day there had been talk that they would be going back to England in just a matter of days.

  He’d known that was expecting too much since there was still fighting out in the Far East. Now weeks later though, the Guards Armoured Division, like the rest of XXX Corps, still seemed to be no nearer to getting back to England and still had no idea when they were likely to be demobbed.

  Patience had never been one of his virtues and he felt fed up and frustrated. Although the suspicion and resentment with which he had been regarded by fellow Guards officers when he had first been given his commission had long since vanished, he was still very much a loner. In battle he had proved himself to be a born leader. His men not only trusted his judgement but they liked him as a man and had given him thei
r fullest support when under fire.

  Robert spent a lot of time thinking about these things and wondering what the future held for him. The war had completely changed his life and it was pointless trying to pick up discarded pieces now. He still felt that his future lay with Kate and he hoped that Sir Henry would eventually relent and let him run Home Farm. The ambition to become a ‘country gentleman’ was still his main motivation.

  When the waitress came to clear his table she was eager to tell him about the local amenities and he encouraged her to chat. She was in her twenties, black-haired and blue-eyed with a pale olive complexion and a ready smile.

  Her English was hesitant but easy enough to follow since her voice had none of the usual harsh guttural intonations of the Germans. As she told him of the valet service where he could have his uniformed pressed, of the hairdressers who excelled in everything from a trim to a singe, he tried to work out whether she was Austrian or even Italian. Picking up one of his hands she ran her fingers lightly over the back of it, then studied his nails telling him there was a first class friseur should he decide to have a manicure.

  ‘And what is there to do in the evening?’ Robert asked.

  Her sea-blue eyes widened expressively. ‘There are many things. You can dine, attend a symphony concert, go to the cinema or even go dancing at the Kurhaus. The ballroom there is most romantic,’ she added sighing prettily.

  ‘And where is the Kurhaus?’

  ‘It stands in lovely gardens on the banks of the River Radau …’ she paused, frowning, a look of dismay on her face. ‘But you could not go there!’

  ‘Oh, why is that?’

  ‘It is not for officers. Officers must dance at the Harzburger Hof Hotel, or at the Thirty Club here in town. That is used exclusively by officers, so of course I have never been there,’ she said wistfully.

  ‘Would you like to go to the Thirty Club?’ Robert asked.

  ‘Oh!’ her eyes glistened. ‘It is one of my dreams.’

  ‘Then will you come with me, this evening?’

  ‘Do you really mean it?’ she breathed, excitedly.

  ‘Where shall we meet. Here?’

  ‘No, no. I will be finished work in time to go home and put on my prettiest dress.’ She frowned. ‘My home it is not easy to find so why do we not meet at the Club.’

  ‘Just as you like. At seven o’clock?’

  ‘That would be most wonderful!’ She clasped her hands together delightedly, like a child promised a treat.

  ‘Right. See you there. I must be on my way now.’

  ‘You do mean it, you really will come?’ she asked anxiously, placing her hand on his arm as he stood up.

  ‘Of course, I will! By the way, what is your name? Mine is Campbell, Robert Campbell.’

  ‘And I am Maria,’ she breathed softly, lowering her eyes shyly.

  As he walked back up the hill to his hotel, Robert wondered what on earth he could have been thinking about to invite the girl out like that. He didn’t have to turn up, of course, but since he had been rash enough to tell her his name she could easily come to the hotel looking for him. Runnels of cold sweat snaked down under his shirt at the thought that Kate might get to hear of this escapade.

  What if she does, he argued with himself. He only wanted some company for the last evening of his leave.

  Later, as he got ready to go to meet Maria, the guilt came back. Surely Kate would understand how desolate he felt with her being hundreds of miles away, he thought gloomily. Anyway, she had her Captain Parkes to help her overcome feelings of isolation and loneliness.

  The Thirty Club in Harzburg had been planned to provide the same sort of glamour and escapism as could be found in any first class London night club. Maria was ecstatic about the plush interior, the elaborate decor, the soft lights and the general opulence and feeling of luxury.

  As they circled the highly polished dance-floor between courses, Maria smiled up into Robert’s eyes, giving a little sigh of contentment. She had changed into a dress in a silky material that was the same blue as her eyes. The bodice was close-fitting with a heart-shaped neckline and the full skirt flared from the nipped-in waistline.

  ‘This is just heaven,’ she breathed, her face wreathed in smiles.

  His arm tightened, pressing her shapely body closer to his. He was enjoying it too. As he looked down at her radiant face, framed by her glossy black hair, he felt a surge of longing. For a brief second he closed his eyes, shutting out Maria’s Latin looks and imagining instead that it was Kate he was holding in his arms and her smooth brown head nestling beneath his chin. The wine and the music helped the illusion so much that he let his lips rest on her brow.

  Maria’s reaction was dynamic. Before he knew what was happening her mouth was pressed hungrily against his and her body moved sensuously in his arms as she responded fervently to his brief caress.

  For a harrowing moment he fought the temptation rising within him. Then his own blood was afire and he made no resistance when she took his hand and led him off the dance floor.

  They found a small annexe used as a cloakroom. Their lovemaking was swift yet satisfying. As he climaxed, her face was just a blur, he only knew it wasn’t Kate.

  Afterwards he felt an overwhelming self-hatred and knew he had behaved despicably. He refused to go back to their table. He knew she was hurt by his attitude but there was nothing he could do about it. All he wanted now was to be alone. There was no way he could possibly make her understand, so he didn’t even try to explain his inner turmoil.

  ‘We have not yet even finished our meal,’ she exclaimed angrily when he said they were leaving.

  ‘I’m sorry but the evening is over for me,’ he said quietly.

  ‘But not for me! I wear my prettiest dress for you, I wish to stay.’

  Her warm smile had vanished, her eyes were glacially cold with angry sparks in their depths, as she squared up to him. At that moment he wondered how he could ever have likened her to Kate.

  Their eyes met, held and clashed. There was such venom in hers that he drew back, no longer sorry at having taken advantage of her, only despising himself for his weakness.

  ‘You can stay on if you wish or I will take you home, now,’ he told her.

  Her answer was to pivot away from him on her spiky heels, tossing her jet black head defiantly as she minced her way back to their table, her body swaying in time to the beat of the music.

  He remained where he was until she sat down, then thrusting his hands deep in his pockets, turned and left the Club.

  When he returned to duty, Robert found that the break at the Harzburger Hof had unsettled him and that it was increasingly difficult to get back into routine. Part of the trouble was that there was not a great deal to do and what duties there were seemed pointless. His restlessness increased to such a point that he even asked the MO whether he could have some home leave on medical grounds.

  ‘Not a ruddy chance, old boy. We’re all in the same boat. It looks as though it’s going to be at least another six months before any of our demob numbers come up,’ he added gloomily as they stood chatting in the Mess.

  Six months seemed to be a lifetime away and Robert was sure he couldn’t stick it out that long. He was so engrossed in his own feeling of despair that he almost missed the Major’s next words.

  ‘… only fellows who are being allowed back to Blighty are those signing on for the regular army …’

  Next day Robert checked to make sure he had heard correctly and then made an appointment to see his Commanding Officer.

  ‘Didn’t realise you liked it out here that much,’ Colonel West grunted.

  ‘I’m not exactly enamoured by the place, sir, but if I was in the regular army I don’t suppose I’d spend the rest of my service life in Germany.’

  ‘You might have a point there,’ the Colonel agreed. ‘Well, if you are quite sure I’ll send in my report and we’ll see what happens. You’ll probably have to pop back to England to sign the neces
sary documents and they may decide to keep you there for some update training, I shouldn’t wonder.’

  Robert hid his feeling of elation. Stony faced he saluted and withdrew but inwardly he was gloating. As long as he got back to England and could see Kate everything would change. He had no intention of signing on for the regular army! He couldn’t wait to get out!

  Once he and Kate were married he was sure her family would see things in an altogether different light. Sir Henry was, after all, exceptionally fond of Kate so he should be overjoyed at the thought of them living at Home Farm and within a stone’s throw of Walford Grange.

  His optimism made the waiting bearable. When Colonel West confirmed that his application had met with approval, and he was to report to Wellington Barracks in London for an interview, Robert felt that once again Fate was on his side.

  Chapter 8

  The sky was overcast and oppressive and there was an ominous rumble of thunder as the plane landed at Brize Norton around mid-morning. Robert Campbell made a quick dash for the office buildings as a mid-summer downpour slashed across the airfield.

  ‘If you want a train for London, there will be a truck going to the station in about twenty minutes, sir,’ the Duty Sergeant told him after he had checked his papers.

  ‘I am not going to London … not today. Is there any transport going Bridgwater way?’

  ‘I can check, sir. If not, then you will probably have to go into London and travel back out again.’

  Robert waited impatiently while the Sergeant made enquiries. He had managed to get a seat in the Transporter from Germany so the journey had only taken a fraction of the time allowed for overland travel. It meant a weekend at home and his plan now was to go straight to Walford Grange and surprise Kate.

  ‘There is a truck going to Warminster, sir,’ the Sergeant told him a few minutes later. ‘They will be happy to make a slight detour,’ he added with a grin.

 

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