by Lorna Peel
“You are the most amazing woman I have ever met.” He lifted himself and kissed one of her nipples. “Thank you.”
“For frustrating you?” she asked.
“I’m sorry for swearing.”
“I’m sorry for teasing you. I was curious to see how long you could last.”
“Don’t be.” Reaching out, he pulled the bedcovers over them. “You’re all right?”
“I’m fine. Between us, I think we make quite a pair.”
“I think we put Romeo and Juliet to shame just then,” he declared and she pulled an exaggerated frown.
“I don’t know what version of Romeo and Juliet you did at school, because I don’t remember any sex.”
“From what I can remember it was so boring I may have invented some. I always had a good imagination.”
“You still have. I love you, Charlie.”
“I worship you, my Irish Venus.”
“Venus?” She squealed with laughter and hugged him. About to release him, she heard the front door close and they froze. Clive and Toby were back from the table tennis club.
“Please go to your room,” Charlie whispered, the door to the other bedroom closed, and they relaxed. “That could have been embarrassing.”
“Mmm,” she replied, noncommittally. “But I’d say they’ve learned about the birds and the bees by now.”
Charlie stared at her for a moment before laughing. “You’re unbelievable.”
“I thought I was Venus?” she asked, not wanting this to stop, not wanting to have to remember.
“Oh, yes,” he whispered, sliding his hands down to her waist. “Oh, Christ,” he gasped. “Oh, Christ, Kate.”
“Charlie,” she murmured, arching her back. “Kiss me, Charlie?” she begged, pushing the bedcovers off them.
“Kate?” He had to quickly clasp her face tightly in his hands. “Can we, quietly?” he asked, nodding the door.
She sighed and closed her eyes. She couldn’t, and, if a few minutes ago was anything to go by, neither could he.
“No.”
“Well, there’s always next week,” he said softly, smoothing a hand down her cheek. “Already, I can’t wait.”
“I love you,” she whispered.
“I love you. And thank you for today. It could have been awful, but the boys and you… thank you.”
“We’ll find a suitable spot and plant the tree in the morning.”
He nodded then let her go and went to the bathroom, turned the bedroom light off when he returned, then got back into bed. He sighed and she put a hand out to comfort him. Taking her hand, he kissed it. They were remembering again.
“On Monday,” he said. “I must go to London and see Father’s… my solicitor. I must have the deeds of this house transferred into my name. I also need to register myself, or whatever it’s called, as Clive’s guardian. You’re not twenty-one yet. Toby…”
She pulled a face into the darkness. She wasn’t old enough. She wasn’t twenty-one until November. Her mother and father were in Ireland. There was no-one else. She found Charlie’s cheek and kissed it.
“Do it, Charlie.”
“Only as a temporary thing, until you’re twenty-one, or until you’ve discussed it with your parents.”
“I know. I should get a letter next week,” she replied, just keeping the anxiety out of her voice. What would be in it? “Could the boys and I come to London with you? We do need to do some clothes shopping. We could make a day of it?”
“Yes, of course, you can.” He smoothed a hand over her stomach. “A shopping expedition, good. I didn’t want the whole day taken up with…”
“I know,” she replied and kissed him.
“I also need to make an appointment soon to see Mr Jacobs about the boys. They shouldn’t be moved from that school. It’s their final year, they have important exams. They’re also going to need all the friends and help they can get.”
In the morning over breakfast, which Clive and Toby cooked, Kate asked them how table tennis had gone. Clive rolled his eyes while Toby sniggered.
“They’re awful at it.”
“Yes.” Clive sighed. “We even beat John. It was embarrassing.”
“But what did you think of them all?” Charlie asked and Clive smiled.
“They made us very welcome.”
“Are we..?” Toby nodded to the tree standing in a bucket of water in a corner of the kitchen.
“We are,” Kate replied. “When we’ve washed up we’ll go outside and look for a suitable place for it.”
“And on Monday,” Charlie cut in, “we’re going to London. I have to make myself your guardian,” he added, peering down at his fingers.
“Both of us?” Toby asked, turning to Kate.
“Yes. I’m not twenty-one yet. It’ll only be temporary until I am, or I sort something out with my parents. Anyway,” she smiled, “I don’t think Charlie will be too bad.”
“He’d better not be.” Toby laughed.
“Well, I don’t know.” Charlie squeezed Kate’s hand. “Remember what I said the other day about us pulling our weight? I know you made breakfast and, despite the porridge tasting like wallpaper paste, it wasn’t bad. You’d better get used to making it. Everything is not to be left to Kate, do you hear me?”
Both boys flushed guiltily and nodded. “Yes, Charlie. Sorry, Kate.”
She smiled but Charlie spoke again. “I don’t want you to think I’m being too hard but Kate is not our mother, Clive, nor your mother, Toby. We all have to help out.”
Again, the boys nodded. “We’ll wash up.” Toby began to gather up the dishes. “You go out and look for a place for the tree. Go on.”
“Thank you,” Kate replied. “We won’t decide on a place until you come out.”
“You don’t think I was too father-like?” Charlie asked as they stood in the garden.
“No, you weren’t. Now, about this tree.”
She glanced around the garden. It wasn’t all that big, so the tree had to be put somewhere where it wouldn’t overcrowd or overshadow it. It also had to be planted a good bit away from their cottage and the Hodges’. They didn’t want any trouble, but she doubted if Mrs Hodges would be alive to see it fully grown.
“Well, then?” Charlie asked as the boys came outside. “All suggestions welcome.”
“There?” Toby pointed to the corner of the garden furthest away from the cottage. “It’s out of the way for when it grows.”
Charlie nodded and looked at Clive. He nodded and looked at Kate.
She smiled. “The far corner it is.”
Charlie dug a hole and the boys gently lowered the tree into it. They took it in turns with the spade to fill the hole then Charlie reached for the watering can and gave the soil a good soaking.
“Mother so loved trees,” Toby commented quietly.
“Yes.” Kate put an arm around him. The tree would grow into a beautiful, strong memorial to everyone in Dunstan Street. “I know this sounds crazy now, but we must never forget.”
Three pairs of tearful eyes turned to her and three heads nodded.
Before they left for London, Kate caught Charlie reading the list given to him by his CO. He sighed and put the sheet of paper in his jacket’s inside pocket before joining them in the hall. She kissed his cheek, not envying him one bit. Whatever he had said about her not having to be a mother to them, he was being forced to be the father. She wished she could do more to help, but she wasn’t twenty-one for months.
There was silence as Charlie drove them into London, but the shock at seeing the destruction was wearing off. There was little which could shock them now.
Charlie dropped them at Oxford Circus, telling them he would meet them there at three o’clock. As she, Toby and Clive set off down Oxford Street, Kate thought back to when Helen had brought her there to smarten her up.
They had a successful day and by the time they got back into the car, Clive and Toby had each been bought two shirts, two pairs of trous
ers, two pullovers and a pair of shoes.
Kate herself bought shoes, trousers, a skirt and two blouses.
Charlie had shopped, too, and bought a pair of trousers and two shirts. He wouldn’t be wearing his uniform for a while yet.
“How did you get on?” Clive asked his brother at the after-dinner conference that evening.
“Oh.” Charlie sat back in his seat and stretched. “I’ll soon be the registered owner of this house, officially your guardian and,” he swallowed noisily, “I checked that no remains were found at Dunstan Street. None were.” There was a silence before he added, “thank God for the tree.”
Charlie went to see Mr Jacobs the following week and Kate was relieved when he returned home smiling. The boys were to be awarded bursaries to help with their school fees. It was a huge weight off all their minds.
As things seemed secure for the foreseeable future, their lives in Market Kirby settled into a routine. Everyone was now looking to the future.
When they had been in the cottage a month, Kate began to worry. Why hadn’t she heard from her parents? Surely her letter hadn’t got lost in the post? She didn’t want to have to write it again and she really didn’t want to have to telephone them to break the news.
One Sunday morning they were all having a lie-in when Kate woke with a jolt, hearing the front door knocker being banged with determination. Beside her, Charlie groaned and swore under his breath.
“Ignore it, hopefully, she’ll clear off,” he murmured, assuming it was Mrs Hodges.
The hammering on the front door continued and Charlie got out of bed, furious and determined to give “the old witch” a piece of his mind. He pulled on his pyjama jacket and, leaving the bedroom door open, stormed down the hall. Kate watched from the bed as he flung open the front door. She couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw her parents standing on the step. Her father frowned at Charlie before he noticed her.
“Daddy?” She sprang out of bed and quickly put on her dressing gown. No wonder she hadn’t heard anything from them. “Mummy, what are you doing here?”
She stood in the bedroom doorway wringing her hands as her father pushed past Charlie, barely acknowledging his presence, and stood in front of her.
“My only daughter,” he roared. “Living in sin. Living like a whore.”
“James, stop.” Her mother rushed along the hall towards her. “Oh, Kate, we came as soon as we could, but the travel permits took an age to arrive. We managed to get the boat from Dublin to Liverpool yesterday.”
She was hugged tightly. “But why?” she asked, and out of the corner of an eye, she saw Charlie glare at her father before closing the front door. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? We’re fine. We’re coping.”
“Coping by that.” Her father pointed to the rumpled bedcovers on the double bed. Looking around for Charlie, he threw him up against the wall. “How dare you interfere with my daughter. She’s not a whore.”
“Daddy,” she screamed and tried to separate them but was pushed aside by Clive and Toby who each pulled their brother and uncle apart. “Daddy, please,” she begged.
“I know she isn’t a whore, Mr Sheridan,” Charlie replied. “And this is my house. You’re here without my permission.”
“I’m here to see my daughter.”
“Oh, stop it,” her mother shouted and Kate jumped. “Kate, get dressed. And you,” she gave Charlie a weak smile. “Please get dressed and we’ll discuss this calmly.”
Kate ran into the bedroom and sat down on the bed, bursting into tears. “Oh, Charlie, I’m sorry,” she wailed as he came in and closed the door behind him. “I didn’t know they were coming.”
“I know,” he said, bending and kissing the top of her head. “But no-one tells me what to do in my own house. Are you absolutely sure you didn’t know they were coming?”
“Yes,” she insisted. “I know my father. If I had known, do you honestly think I would have allowed him to see us together like this?”
She watched Charlie, his hands clutching his head, pace up and down the room. She had never seen him this angry before, but couldn’t blame him. Why come now, she raged at her parents. Everything is fine. We are coping. Why come now?
“No, I know.” He tilted her face up and kissed her lips. “I’m sorry for shouting.”
They got washed and dressed and went into the living room. Kate found her mother squeezing Toby’s hands while Clive was sitting in a corner wanting to keep out of the way. Her father examined the photographs on the mantelpiece before turning to them.
“I would never have expected it of a daughter of mine. You should have gone to America.”
“Where are you staying?” she asked, hoping her parents didn’t expect to be accommodated at the cottage.
“The inn up the street,” her mother replied. “We arrived late last night.”
“But why come? I said in my letter we are coping, Mummy.”
“They were my family, Kate,” she whispered. “I had to come – to see – and to see how you are.”
“I see how you are coping.” Mr Sheridan glared at Charlie. “What age are you?”
“Twenty-nine.”
“My daughter is not quite twenty-one. Have you no respect? She is just a child.”
Kate rolled her eyes and, behind her, she felt Charlie tense.
“Despite being not quite twenty-one, she is one of the most mature people I know. I love your daughter, Mr Sheridan.”
“You should have married her before… that.”
“There is a war on, Mr Sheridan.” Kate felt Charlie slide his hands around her waist. “I could die. I don’t want her left a widow.”
“Oh?” Her father laughed harshly. “But you don’t mind that you could leave her pregnant?”
Kate cringed. This was awful. Her father would never understand.
“She won’t be, Mr Sheridan,” Charlie replied calmly and Kate turned from him to her father who was frowning, slowly grasping Charlie’s meaning.
“You disgust me,” he hissed. “It’s disgusting.” He turned on his wife. “Have you nothing to say about your daughter having prostituted herself?”
“Daddy,” Kate shrieked. “I haven’t.”
Her mouth was dry as Charlie walked forward and stopped in front of her father. “Mr Sheridan,” he began. “I don’t know if it would be different if I were an American. I can’t help being English and I can’t help the fact that I love your daughter – and I do love her. This war has robbed me of my parents and Kate of her aunt, uncle and grandmother. We have almost been killed I don’t know how many times. You just have no idea what it is like – no idea. If you did, you would understand. I would never hurt her, but I cannot marry her because of the war, even though I desperately want to, and it is why we are doing what we are doing, so I will never leave her pregnant. Now that may be disgusting to you, but to me – to us – it is a fact of life.”
There was silence while Charlie and her father stood glaring at one another.
“Kate?”
She turned to her mother, who smiled at her, and she opened her mouth to reply before hesitating. Whatever she said, her father would shout at her but she grimaced. Stand up for yourself, Kate.
“Mummy, I love Charlie. You’ve read my letters properly, haven’t you?” she asked and her mother nodded. “As Charlie said, you’ve no idea what it is like and what we went through – all four of us. If you can’t accept Charlie and me, Daddy, then I’m sorry for you. I thought you wanted to see me happy. I’m happy with Charlie and I’m happy living here with Toby and Clive. Now, have you had breakfast?” she inquired, signalling an end to it.
“Yes,” her mother replied and glanced up at her husband.
“Yes, we have, thank you,” he replied.
“Well, we haven’t.” Kate squeezed Charlie’s arm before going into the kitchen.
Mrs Sheridan followed her and watched as she prepared the porridge and put it on the hob to cook.
“You
should have at least told me you were sharing a bed with Charlie,” her mother told her, sounding hurt. “Even if you couldn’t tell your Daddy. I would have understood. Charlie is a very good-looking chap.”
Kate rested the spoon against the side of the saucepan. “I know, but it’s not just that. He’s funny, kind, silly at times. I love him. I’ve needed him, Mummy, and he’s needed me. Can you understand?”
“Yes. Are you really not going to get married?”
“No,” she replied with a sigh and her mother’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.
“But why ever not? I just don’t understand.”
“Charlie doesn’t want to leave me a widow,” she explained and went to a cupboard for bowls.
“But surely he wants to make sure you’re provided for if, heaven forbid, something were to happen to him? You won’t receive a thing if you’re not married.”
Kate put the bowls on the table with a bit of a bang. She knew all that.
“You do want to marry Charlie, don’t you?” her mother demanded, watching her return to the cooker.
Kate picked up the spoon and began to stir the porridge. “To be honest, Mummy, I haven’t thought about it.”
“Not at all?”
“Not recently, no. Not since the husband of a friend of mine was killed and I hoped that I would never be left Charlie’s widow. He was a good friend of Charlie’s and he informed her of his death. The whole thing affected him quite deeply.”
“But you would say yes if he asked you now, wouldn’t you?”
Kate found herself nodding. “Yes, I would.”
“Then please try and talk him round, Kate,” her mother begged.
“I’ll try, but he is adamant.”
“Well, don’t whatever you do tell your father.”
Kate almost smiled. Her father would be horrified either way. “I wasn’t planning to, don’t worry,” she said and shook her head. “I can’t believe you’re both here.”
“I know,” Mrs Sheridan whispered, holding out her arms, and Kate went to her. “I still can’t believe it,” she added as they hugged. “Your granny, Helen, Bob… You said Charlie was going to find out if there would be funerals?”
