Jane had given a lot of thought to Mrs Cartlyn and her relationship with Mrs Cavendish, discussing this many times with Will. What had transpired in their past caused both question and tremor. Jane hoped that Mrs Cavendish's appeal to Mrs Cartlyn for help was made because of the latter's position; she was a wealthy woman of influence who would quite naturally see Jane regularly at Jane's place of work. Hand in hand with this, she was clearly a trusted friend of Mrs Cavendish, someone who would enquire easily and frequently after Jane and the other girls as required. Jane prayed that the connection between the two women was an innocent one, and nothing to do with the hidden life that Mrs Cartlyn had led. Jane loved Mrs Cavendish and knew that she was a kind and good person. Knowing the strength of her own feeling was the reason Jane chose not to push for any revelation or disclosure from Mrs Cartlyn, or to ever raise the subject of their past with either woman. Enough was enough.
Mrs Cartlyn, in spite of herself, seemed marginally pleased to see Jane. However, business-like and brusque, she accepted the house keys and dismissed Jane's reassurance that the house was clean and tidy as unnecessary information. Despite their recent history and Mrs Cartlyn's warm and generous care of her and Will, Jane knew that she and the remarkable woman would always have an outwardly uninvolved and detached relationship, even if deep down there was mutual affection. Jane wondered if Mrs Cartlyn felt the same warm fondness that she did, although she knew that she had much more reason to feel affection for the old lady than the other way around.
'Mrs Cartlyn?'
'Yes.'
'After today I promise I won't ask another question that has anything to do with the things you've told me; but can I ask you how we move on? I mean, seeing things and knowing things, how can we carry on without being eaten away by…' she struggled with the words 'by events?'
Mrs Cartlyn sighed deeply and turned an impressive cluster of diamonds round and round on her finger.
'For some, nothing is needed. For others, time and answers. You fall into the others category. I'd have been disappointed if you hadn't, as then I'd have been wrong about you. You care, and so you should.'
'Time I get Mrs Cartlyn, but answers I don't have.'
'Then I'll give you some.' Jane hadn't been invited to, but she sat down on the edge of the chair opposite her host. One thing Jane hadn't expected was any kind of revelation or insight into what had happened, just hoping for some cover-all advice as to how to move on. Now that answers might actually be offered, she wasn't sure how much she did want to know. Mrs Cartlyn seemed to notice Jane's apprehension. 'Don't worry Jane, I'm not about to divulge anything that will be a threat to national security.' Jane relaxed a little, still feeling the pull of an invisible force that suggested she leave now before she found out anything she might later wish she hadn't.
'Please don't tell me anything about Mrs Cavendish.'
'I don't intend to. But I think knowing a little more about what your young man and Hugh Callaghan have been through will help.' Jane nodded. 'I think we all know what the gossips in this hotel say about Hugh.' Jane hoped she wasn't blushing, knowing that she'd been party to such conversations among the staff. 'I'm sure some of their words have bordered on accuracy. He was a ladies' man, debonair yet roguish. He was also a man's man; sharing a drink, a cigarette and a risqué anecdote. But his exploits in the bars and clubs, and I don't doubt in the bedrooms, were for a purpose.'Mrs Cartlyn looked at Jane and revealed an affectionate glint. 'I'm sure that there were aspects of his occupation that he sincerely enjoyed.' Jane blushed a little, wondering what the man had done in the line of duty. 'My late husband certainly saw their profession more as a calling than merely a job. I know Hugh Callaghan was the same. Both would do anything required in the pursuit of their goal, for the protection of their country.'
Jane spoke so quietly that Mrs Cartlyn had to lean forward to hear her.
'So it's as everyone thought. Hugh was spying, selling secrets?' She didn't dare mention Mr Cartlyn, although she felt the answer would be all inclusive.
Mrs Cartlyn smiled.
'It's so simple to anyone not involved. Hugh's profession has been around for hundreds of years in one form or another. Wherever there is fighting or discord, or war, there are people who are employed to find out more, to listen, to delve and to dig. I don't like the word spy; I prefer scout or emissary. We reconnoitre.' We? We? Jane felt herself turn hot, then cold. 'Yes, I said we.' Mrs Cartlyn seemed party to Jane's thoughts. 'You look flustered girl, would you like some water?'
'No, I'm fine thank you.'
Mrs Cartlyn pursed her lips for a moment then continued.
'My husband and I met twenty-five years ago, when another war was threatening all our lives. We did what we could to help; we fought our own battles that most people didn't see. We were the hidden army. Hugh was doing the same. Sadly, through a chain of events I won't bore you with, he was noticed by some individuals and that forced him to change tactics.' She sighed. 'Sadly these tactics were misconstrued by some.'
'I don't understand Mrs Cartlyn.'
'Some…groups thought he'd turned traitor. I didn't realise that Maria Henderson subscribed to this view until I found out she'd intercepted the message you sent via Florence.'
'But Mrs Cartlyn, why didn't you tell me this earlier? You didn't get the message at all? Did you not know that Maria came to see me, give me poison?' Jane started to feel sick.
'Telling you would have served no purpose Jane; when I next saw you, all was done.' Mrs Cartlyn leaned forward and poured a glass of water from a glistening crystal decanter, then handed it to Jane. Jane tipped the glass to her lips, and then coughed as the burning liquid scolded her tongue. 'A stiff drink Jane, slow down.'
'I thought it was water,' she spluttered.
'Anyway, remonstrations aside, I didn't tell you but now I am. Maria Henderson genuinely believed Hugh was a traitor and a danger and took the steps she thought right.'
'He wasn't a traitor?'
'No. He led the Germans to believe he had turned. He did too good a job; he had to make everyone believe it was genuine for it to work. Only a few knew the actual story. He was true to King and country to the end.'
'But you knew?'
'Not for sure, not until recently. I had to dig very deep and call on old…' she paused, then threw caution to the wind, 'well, old lovers to be frank. I had to call on men I'd not spoken with in years to find out the truth. Some now occupy certain positions of importance in the war office.'
Jane stumbled over words and thoughts and questions, images of an old woman's past life of secrecy and scandal rushing past her eyes. She shook all thought of Mrs Cartlyn's past from her mind.
'So Hugh was a good man pursued by those who thought he'd betrayed his country? And he was asking Will to be him, to take his risk so Hugh could be somewhere else?'
Mrs Cartlyn nodded.
'In very simple terms, yes. He was watched by those on both sides who weren't sure of his motives and he was sought out by others on both sides who thought they knew his motives. He needed space and time, and Will provided that.'
'And the thing he came to ask for at Richmond Row?'
'The last thing he asked Will to do was for him to be seen to attend a big meeting at Whitehall. It was intentionally leaked that a top secret meeting was going to take place over several days. There were many reasons for the false meeting and Hugh also saw it as his opportunity to get out of the country. He would be going to Berlin, heading into the thick of it, and unlikely to come back. He needed the eyes that normally watched him to be watching Will, and yes, he told Will they might not stop at watching.'
'Will knew he might have been killed.'
'Will knew,' nodded Mrs Cartlyn.
Jane sat back in her chair and took another sip of the liquid that was normally so foreign to her. Her voice was still quiet and emotional.
'Will believed in him.'
'Yes, he did. I did too. We were right. And Maria Henderson was misinformed.'
; Jane's mind pictured the exquisite form of Maria Henderson, also fighting for her country but aiming at a friend not a foe.
'Did Hugh have any family Mrs Cartlyn?' Mrs Cartlyn seemed surprised by the question.
'No Jane, I don't believe he did. An only child from a wealthy family, all long gone; he lived and died for his country.' Mrs Cartlyn watched Jane, then summarised. 'The answers are all there Jane. It's complicated yet simple. Now you must let it rest somewhere.'
Sunday 29 December 1940
Jane, although pleased to be working again and relieved that there was no longer a need to look over her shoulder or behind a door, was looking forward to the next day; despite only returning to work on the Saturday, Sunday had worked out as her rostered day off. It would be Will and Jane's last full day together before Will was due to leave a few days later.
Will's flatmate was away over the Christmas period, so Jane knew it was Will that she heard in the kitchen when she woke up on Sunday morning. It must be Will. For the tiniest moment, a sickness of fear rose through her body as she heard the sound of movement and feared it might not be Will but someone else, possibly the missing Jim. Jane sat up slowly. She held her breath, swallowing back the nausea that threatened. The flat fell silent. No movement and no sound. Then the whistling of You Are My Sunshine. Jane relaxed and breathed again. Only Will. Even though Jane knew that their brush with Hugh's secret life was over, it had left a faint shadow that she sometimes stepped into. She'd asked Will on more than one occasion if he felt the same, but he'd just joked and smiled and reassured, always trying to make her feel better.
She lay back in bed listening and enjoying the sound of nothing but the two of them alone. Before she could follow Will to the kitchen, he appeared in the doorway carrying a tray.
'That's not fair, I wanted to wake you with breakfast in bed,' he grumbled, as Jane sat up again. Laying the tray on the covers, and revealing its bounty of tea and toast, he sat down at the foot of the bed. 'What would you like to do? The whole day is ours.'
Jane had thought about today so much already. 'Would you like to visit Maggie and Jack? Before you leave?'
Will shook his head. 'No. I said goodbye the other day and I spoke with them yesterday while you were at work. They know today's our day.' Jane opened her mouth to speak but was silenced. 'No arguing.'
'In that case, I don't know. Shall we go for a ride? When will you get Sunbeam to the farm?'
'I already arranged with Jack that he'll come next week and get her and my things.'
'Oh, right.' Jane's stomach lurched as the arrangements became final.
'Come on Sunshine,' Will beamed. 'Look,' he leapt up and ripped back the curtains 'the sun's shining, all is well.' He came back to the bed and handed Jane her cup of tea. 'Come on, it's spoily day. I'm going to run you a bath.' Then he added in a conspiratorial stage whisper 'and I have girls' stuff to put in it; all manner of bubbles and salts in pink bottles' and then he was gone. Jane was trying to be happy as she leaned back against the pillows; the only thing she could do was to go along with Will's buoyant mood and hope that the carefree feeling would be catching.
Jane bathed and dressed as quickly as was possible without seeming ungrateful for Will's pampering and they set off on the Sunbeam in the winter sunshine. Neither was sure where they were going, and neither cared, as they rode further from the city and the scenery before them changed.
They finally stopped in Marlow, eating lunch in a friendly pub and then strolling through the town. They crossed the suspension bridge and wandered into the church which sat next to the river just a few steps from the bridge. The church was quiet, between the morning and evening services, and Will and Jane sat down side by side in one of the oak pews.
They sat quietly with their thoughts for a while before Will whispered, without turning his gaze from the altar, 'This would be a great church for a wedding.'
Jane didn't turn her head either, but responded with, 'yes, it would.'
'A nice town to raise a family in too.'
'Yes, it is.'
Then footsteps were heard and they sat in silence again as a lady walked past them to the altar; she crossed herself, whispered a few words, paused for a moment then turned to walk back down the aisle nodding to Jane and Will as she passed. They nodded and smiled back. When she'd left, Will whispered again.
'How quickly do you think we can do it?'
'Do what?'
'Get married.'
Jane was taken completely by surprise at Will's words, but chose to assume his question was hypothetical after his previous vow to wait.
'Oh, I don't know; a couple of weeks maybe? I really don't know. Special licences would be quicker I suppose.'
Will finally turned to look at Jane and she knew that his question wasn't what she had assumed.
'I'm sorry Jane; I've misled you. Unintentionally.' Jane frowned. 'I gave a great big speech about waiting, not rushing. But I can't.' Jane's heart started to beat dangerously fast as Will stood up. He gently took her hand and pulled her to her feet, leading her from the pew and down the aisle towards the altar. A few steps from the altar they stopped.
For a moment they both stood there in the light from the window behind the altar. As the December sun shone into the stained glass it sent a myriad of muted reflections through the air inside the quiet church and threw them onto the flagstones at their feet. Jane wanted to speak but couldn't; she wanted to breathe normally but couldn't; she wanted to slow her heart but couldn't.
Will bent down on one knee as Jane's emotions wobbled between nausea, desire and delirium. Taking both her hands tenderly in his and looking up at Jane in the beautiful kaleidoscope of dappled light, he proposed.
When they finally left the church, Will apologised.
'I'm sorry I don't have a ring yet.'
'I don't mind. I don't need a ring.'
'I didn't plan to propose. Not now, I mean. You must think I'm such a hypocrite. I really did mean all I said about waiting, or I believed I did. But sitting in the church, at that moment…I don't know what happened, it just seemed that there would never be a better moment.'
'There won't be.'
They strolled on hand in hand through the town and back to the Sunbeam, waiting shiny and patient for their return.
'We ought to head back I guess.'
Jane nodded, disappointed. 'I suppose so.'
Standing by their faithful transport, Will looked at Jane with a glint in his eyes and a little boy smile on his face.
'What?' Jane half laughed. 'What is it? Why are you laughing?'
'Seeing as I've completely contradicted myself by proposing, how about we see if we can get married before I leave?' His teasing eyes were hopeful.
Jane smiled the smile of an accomplice. 'Yes. Yes please.'
As usual, the ride home seemed quicker than the ride out. It seemed even more so this time as Jane's mind danced lightly amid thoughts and plans. Could they get married that quickly? Was there any way of dashing down to see her mum, or could she catch the next train to London? How would the girls react? Jane wasn't sure whether the cold dampness on her cheek was a tear forced by the cold wind or a tear driven by joy.
Soon Will and Jane were greeted by old sights once more. They pulled up a street away from the flat and climbed from the motorbike.
'Home again,' Jane reported unhappily.
'That we are.' Will rocked the machine onto its stand and turned to look at Jane. 'What next? Fancy doing anything in particular?'
'Not really.'
'Well then, how about we freshen up at the flat and have a drink or something then go for a long newly-betrothed-couple wander? It's been quiet overhead the last few days so why don't we head up towards the palace and then through the square mile. I might even take you in somewhere for a celebratory pint.' He winked.
'Sounds perfect.'
They walked slowly to the flat, trying to make the most of every minute of the day and hoping that the slower they walked the
slower time would pass. Refreshed and keen to continue the evening for as long as possible, they left after adding hats and scarves to fight against the cold.
The warm romance of the city couldn't be dampened by the sight of bomb damage or preparation. Boarded windows and sandbags were so common they'd almost become invisible, as had the white criss-cross of window tape and the occasional movement of a fire watcher on the top of a tall building.
Will and Jane wandered further into the city where financial institutions and offices stood quiet and dark, waiting for the active bustle of Monday morning business just hours away.
'Come on, it's almost six, let's head somewhere more lively and find some supper.'
'I'm happy just to keep walking Will. I'm not really hungry anyway.'
'Alright, but I want us to be near a shelter. Let's turn towards home and see where our feet take us on the way.'
As they turned to start the long walk in the general direction of home, the familiar noise of fighter planes burned in the clouds. Will's hand tightened around Jane's and his footsteps sped, eager to get her to safety. Jane found that her steps didn't follow suit, so keen was she to make the evening's solitude last. Will was now almost pulling her along, aiming for the protection of the nearest station while Jane was unable to see anything in the evening ahead of them but the jamming together of hundreds of people instead of the closeness of just two.
'Come on sweetheart, step to it. We're streets away yet and those planes sound like they're gaining on us.'
Jane couldn't answer. Her reluctance to join the masses of sheltering people and lose her time alone with Will was scrubbed away. Her ears told her that tonight was different. Somehow the noises above them had changed. She couldn't pinpoint how, but the humming seemed greater and more urgent. The air raid siren called out to everyone, warning and pushing, calling and preparing.
As they got closer to sanctuary the urgency of the situation became clearer and louder; civilians appeared dragging loved ones and rushing towards safety, firemen converged pulling stirrup pumps and running away from safety. Calls and shouts carried through the streets as people hurried towards shelter. It took moments for the flood of incendiary bombs to begin dropping. Amidst the onslaught of explosions and terror as death fell from dark skies, people cried and ran and sirens screamed and water pumped.
Sunshine Spirit Page 19
