Hetty's Secret War

Home > Historical > Hetty's Secret War > Page 18
Hetty's Secret War Page 18

by Rosie Clarke


  She avoided her landlady’s pitying gaze as she asked if Beth wanted a cup of tea or a drop of brandy.

  ‘We’ll get off if you don’t mind,’ Arnold answered for her. ‘It’s good of you to ask, but we’ve a long journey ahead of us and I want to make an early start.’

  Beth had recovered enough to thank her for her kindness. She was grateful for the firm pressure of Arnold’s hand on her arm steadying her, guiding her to the car and helping her inside.

  She felt stunned, as if she were in some kind of a nightmare. This couldn’t be happening; it was unreal – a bad dream. In a little while, she would wake up and discover it was all the same as before. She felt unnaturally calm, controlled, refusing to believe that the telegram had really come.

  Her mind seemed to have gone blank. She sat as if in a daze, staring straight ahead of her. It was not for some twenty minutes or so that she was able to look about her. The rain of early morning had abated and there was even a faint glimmer of blue in the sky.

  ‘It looks as if it will turn out nice later,’ she said.

  Arnold glanced at her, noting the glazed look and unnatural control but decided to ignore it for the moment. ‘Yes, that’s what the forecast on the wireless said. I managed to fix us a picnic. We’ll stop about halfway, but if you need to stop before that just say. We can have a cup of tea whenever you feel the need for a break – answer the call of nature, walk about to ease your back – that sort of thing.’

  ‘You’re always so thoughtful,’ Beth said. ‘I’m not sure how to say thank you. When you came this morning… But I won’t think about it. Missing doesn’t mean Drew is…’ She choked on the word, unable to go on, and he saw how fragile her control really was. She was holding herself on a thin thread.

  ‘It means there may still be hope,’ Arnold said. ‘But it may be unwise to hope for too much, my dear.’

  ‘I just want him to come home.’

  ‘Yes, of course. We all hope for that, but we have to be prepared for something less than a perfect result.’

  ‘You mean he could be seriously injured?’

  ‘That is one explanation, yes.’

  Beth thought about Drew being badly injured. She knew what that might mean, had heard other girls talk about lost limbs and horrific burns. It couldn’t have happened to Drew! She couldn’t bear that! He had been so full of life, so happy and loving. Even their small disagreements had been nothing to worry about.

  It wasn’t fair, Beth thought, the resentment burning inside her. Why did Drew have to be hurt or killed? She knew it had happened to thousands of others but that didn’t make it any easier to accept. Anger was taking over from the shock now. They’d had no right to send him out there to be killed. No right! She hated the war and everyone connected with it, because they had robbed her of her happiness.

  She loved Drew so much and she wanted him to come home. She wasn’t sure she could go on if he didn’t. But she wouldn’t think about that. He had to come home. He just had to!

  *

  ‘She has been very quiet most of the way here, very calm,’ Arnold told Paul when the two women had gone upstairs to look at the room that had been prepared for Beth’s homecoming. ‘But I’m not sure that’s a good thing. She’s holding it all inside.’

  ‘She’ll cry when she’s ready,’ Paul told him. ‘She was always very intense and private as a child. It was a good thing you got her home. She’ll be all right with Annabel to look after her.’

  Arnold looked a little self-conscious, then, ‘You know I’ll always help in any way I can.’

  He felt the guilt prick him. He had wanted to save her pain, but perhaps he’d been wrong to give Beth hope. A telegram like that one was usually bad news. A letter from Drew’s commanding officer would in all probability follow in a few weeks’ time. But by then Beth’s child should be born and she would be stronger, more able to stand up to the pain of bereavement.

  ‘Are you sure you won’t stay overnight?’ Paul asked as Arnold prepared to leave. ‘I know we have room for you and you would be very welcome.’

  ‘That’s very kind. I should like to visit Beth at another time, but I have to get back to London – meetings coming up and a new secretary to break in, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Yes, of course. Well, do keep in touch, won’t you?’

  ‘Perhaps I could come down one weekend – I’ll telephone. You’ll let me know how…’

  ‘We should all be pleased to see you. I’ll ring you myself after the birth.’

  Arnold inclined his head and went out. He didn’t trust himself to stay longer. His feelings for Beth had almost overwhelmed him when she wept in his arms, and he knew that she wouldn’t want to know. Not yet anyway, perhaps not ever. He was too old for her and her heart was broken. It would be selfish of him to put himself forward when he knew how unhappy she was.

  *

  Beth woke in the night with a searing pain in her back, and then another in her stomach. It was like a really bad cramp but much worse than she’d ever experienced. She bit her lip against the cry that came out despite her effort to hold it back. Oh, it hurt! It hurt so much. It had to be the baby, but it was too soon. She had almost a month to go yet!

  She got out of bed and began to pace the floor of her bedroom. It was too soon. It was just cramp or indigestion or something. It would go away if she waited for a while.

  The pains didn’t stop coming, in fact they got fiercer and more terrible and in the end Beth knew she couldn’t wait any longer. She picked up the in-house telephone and rang Annabel’s room. She answered after the first few rings.

  ‘Beth – what’s wrong, love? Are you ill?’

  ‘I think the baby’s coming. It’s too soon, but the pain has been getting worse for the past hour and I think it must be…’

  ‘Yes, I shouldn’t be surprised,’ Annabel said. ‘I’m coming to you now and Paul will ring the hospital. I had made arrangements to take you in if need be and they will know all about you.’

  She put down the receiver and seconds later she was in the room with Beth. She held out her hand, taking Beth’s and giving it a little squeeze.

  ‘Nothing to worry about, dearest. Babies choose their own moment to come and it might be the shock of that wretched telegram. Not that it matters. You’re not so early that it will harm the baby.’

  ‘Will it be all right?’ Beth looked at her anxiously. ‘I don’t want to lose my baby…’ The note of near hysteria in her voice was the only clue to what she was feeling. Even now she was refusing to give in, refusing to admit her grief or cry. ‘I won’t, will I, Annabel?’

  ‘No, I’m sure you won’t, love,’ Annabel said. ‘Now, we’re going to get you into a warm robe and a coat, and some slippers, and then Paul will have the car waiting. By the looks of things you’re going to make me a grandmother sooner than we’d thought.’

  ‘Oh, Belle, Mum,’ Beth said and her eyes were bright with the tears she would not shed. ‘I’m so glad I came home to be with you. You love me and there’s no one else to care.’

  ‘Of course we love you – all of us,’ Annabel said. ‘And all your friends. We’re all here for you, darling. You’re not alone while you have us and you never will be.’

  Beth’s bottom lip was quivering. The tears began to trickle down her cheeks as Annabel put an arm about her shoulders and led her from the room, but she brushed them away. She was determined not to cry. If she cried it would mean Drew was dead and he wasn’t dead; he couldn’t be because she loved him too much.

  *

  ‘She had the most awful time,’ Annabel told Georgie when she rang to give her the news that Beth had a daughter. ‘But she was terribly brave. She cried when they showed her Elaine, of course, but I was glad because until then she’d hardly wept at all – and she needed to.’

  ‘It’s so unfortunate that the news should come now,’ Georgie said. ‘It would be bad enough at any time, but so close to the birth was unfortunate. I’m not surprised the shock brought it
on early. Poor Beth. I’m so sorry she has to face all this. She’s too young to be a widow. I mean, I know it isn’t confirmed yet, but she’s clearly thinking the worst…’

  ‘It’s like a sword hanging over her head,’ Annabel said. ‘But I hate to think of her having to bring up the baby alone, if the worst happens. Beth needs support and love. We’ve always loved her and made her one of our family. She’s independent, but I think there is a certain insecurity because of what happened to Alice.’

  ‘I’m sure you’re right. I’ve always thought she felt it more than she showed.’

  ‘She’s carried it inside her all these years – and losing Drew will bring it all back to her.’

  ‘Well, as long as she and the baby are all right – no complications with the child because of the premature birth?’

  ‘No, none that will have a lasting effect. The doctors were a bit worried and Elaine is being monitored and given special feeding, but otherwise I think she’s fine. She has all her bits and pieces and she’s beautiful. I think we’ve been lucky, Georgie.’

  ‘That’s all right then,’ Georgie said. ‘I suppose in a way she’s lucky to have the baby to remember him by, but she told me once she wasn’t happy having it without Drew being here. Still, she may have changed her mind now.’

  ‘She seemed very happy to hold Elaine. I think most mothers feel a bond once the baby is born, even if they are a bit reluctant beforehand.’

  ‘Yes, I think you are right.’ Georgie heard the kettle whistling. ‘I had better go, Annabel. Thank you for ringing. If you think she’s ready to hear it, tell Beth I’m thinking of her. I’ll come and see her when I move to Kendlebury next week.’

  ‘You’ve heard then?’

  ‘Yes, this morning. I have three weeks to move, but I thought I might as well go straight away.’

  ‘I won’t keep you then, because you must be busy packing. I shall look forward to seeing you.’

  ‘Now it has come to it, I can’t wait,’ Georgie said. ‘It had got a bit lonely here on my own. But I’ll talk to you when I see you.’

  Hanging up, Georgie went into the kitchen and made the tea. She looked at the box of cooking utensils on the table. A lot of them were old, but she was used to them and she wouldn’t want to lose them; it was silly little things like that that had been making her feel a bit low – and Annabel’s call hadn’t helped much. Oh, she was pleased to know that Beth had a daughter and that they were both doing well, but the news that Drew had been reported missing was very upsetting.

  It made her worry more about Ben. She had been thinking about him more and more of late, even though she was packing to leave her home of the past eleven years. Her memories of Arthur and her marriage were mixed, some good, some bad, but they no longer had the power to hurt her. It was the future that counted now. She just prayed that Ben would come home soon and that when he did he would find the strength to tell Helen that he wanted a divorce.

  *

  ‘You should tell Helen that you want a divorce,’ Hetty said as she offered her brother a glass of cognac. They were in the sitting room that Hetty thought of as her own, preparing for an important attack on a German patrol. Ben had just surprised her by telling her he was thinking of getting a divorce after the war. ‘If you’re in love with someone else, you should do something about it, Ben, not waste the rest of your life in regret. Do it as soon as you get back, don’t wait for the end of the war.’

  ‘Yes, of course you are right,’ he said and sipped his drink. ‘This is good stuff, Hetty.’

  ‘Adele’s finest,’ Hetty said. ‘She reserves it for special occasions.’

  ‘Thought I needed some Dutch courage, did she?’ Ben grinned at her. ‘She’s a wonderful woman, Hetty. In some ways she reminds me of Mother and yet she is so different.’

  ‘If she was like Mother I wouldn’t have stayed here,’ Hetty said with a wry grimace. ‘I could never understand why you married Helen – now she is just like our dear Mama.’

  ‘You never did like Helen. Annabel told me I ought not to marry her. I was a damned fool.’

  ‘Well, that’s water under the bridge now,’ Hetty said. ‘Life is all about learning from your mistakes and going on. I’ve made mistakes as well, but I’ve survived – and I intend to survive tonight too.’

  ‘I don’t like the idea of your coming with us tonight, Hetty. It’s too dangerous. I’m not denying what you’ve done. Stefan says you’re one of his best men – now that you take orders from him instead of giving them.’

  Hetty’s eyes flashed. ‘I’ve had no choice for the moment, but he shouldn’t count his chickens before they come home to roost. He’s still on trial.’

  Even as she said the words, she knew she was protesting for no good reason. In the weeks since she’d joined forces with Stefan, she had been delighted with the success of their joint missions, and she had come to respect him. That didn’t mean he wasn’t an arrogant pig or that she liked him, but she did respect him. He was brave, quick and clever – all the things he needed to be to be a good leader. The sparks flew between them on occasion when he was too harsh, but most of the time they understood each other.

  This time they were after a special convoy. It was carrying ammunition and supplies, but also something that both Ben and Stefan considered far more important – a German general who could be very useful if they could take him alive.

  That was why they had divided the group into two again. Stefan’s group was to take the prisoner and Hetty’s men were to create a diversion by attacking the rear of the convoy and going for the ammunition truck.

  ‘Wait until you see the cars pass,’ Stefan had told her. ‘Then you detonate the explosives we’ve planted – but make sure you let the General’s car go through first. Remember, we want him alive. We need the convoy split into two by that explosion, that’s the only way we stand a chance of getting him out of there. He’s no good to us dead.’

  ‘He’ll be in the third car, right?’ Hetty had looked at him, her eyes narrowed. She wanted to be sure of getting it right. ‘How can you be sure of that? He might be further back in the convoy and caught in the blast from our explosives. What happens then?’

  ‘We’ve been working on this for months,’ Stefan had said. ‘I can’t tell you, Hetty…’ He laughed as he saw her eyes spark. ‘It isn’t that I don’t trust you, believe me, but a lot hangs on this tonight. It isn’t quite what you might think and it’s very important.’

  ‘Ben knows what it’s all about, doesn’t he?’

  ‘Yes, he’s known from the start. It’s why he came out here – or one of the main reasons. I told you, it’s important.’

  ‘He won’t tell me either. I think you’re both rotten, but I’ll do what you’ve asked anyway, and I shan’t make a mess of things.’

  ‘I’m sure you won’t.’ Stefan had grinned at her. ‘If I thought you might I wouldn’t have you with us – but keep an eye on Ben, Hetty. He hasn’t had much experience of operations. He’s one of the best at transmitting and he has a wonderful memory for codes, but he isn’t confident with explosives, that’s why I’ve taken that end of it. My men will set things up. All you have to do is set it off at the right moment, then attack and create a diversion so I can get our General away.’

  Hetty knew Stefan was right. She could see that Ben was nervous. This was the first time he’d been involved in anything like this, though he’d helped in a lot of other ways. He was good with the transmitter and got his messages through with the minimum of fuss and quickly, which was important, because if the Germans locked on to a frequency often enough they would eventually discover the source.

  All the codes Ben used were in his head. He wrote nothing down, remembering everything accurately and never making a mistake, but she knew he wasn’t as quick or clever with his hands. She’d watched him practising with wiring the remote detonator and she’d seen him fumble over it.

  ‘Why don’t you let me do the detonating tonight?’ she said as Ben
finished his cognac. ‘I’ve done it before. Bernard taught me.’

  ‘You’re better with a gun than I am,’ Ben replied. ‘I can do it, Hetty. Trust me. I shan’t let you down.’

  ‘All right, if you want.’ Hetty smiled at him as he put his glass down. ‘Time to go – the others will be waiting. Good luck, Ben.’

  ‘We shall need it,’ he said and gave her a nervous grin. ‘They say the devil looks after his own – well, let’s hope he’s on our side tonight.’

  *

  The convoy was on its way. They could see the lights of the motorbikes out front, three of them heading it up. Anything too obvious would have attracted their attention, but the explosive device was hidden beneath a pile of horse manure and it was unlikely the outriders would investigate that, Hetty thought with a smile. It was a nice touch and one that had amused Stefan when she came up with it.

  ‘Give the bastards some of their own back, eh, chérie?’

  She smiled in the darkness as she recalled her answer and the look in his eyes. Why was it that she felt so attracted to Stefan? He wasn’t the type of man she dare trust. She didn’t want to get involved with him on a personal level, but he made her heart race whenever he looked at her that way. It wasn’t fair. She must not like him too much or he would let her down the way Henri had; she had learned too well that men could not be trusted once they had what they wanted.

  She had better keep her mind on the job!

  ‘They’re coming,’ Hetty whispered as she saw the lights of the convoy, her pulses jumping with a mixture of excitement and fear. This was important. It had to be right. ‘Get ready, Ben.’

  He didn’t answer her. Glancing at him, she saw beads of sweat on his forehead and knew he was terrified. It was his first time on this kind of operation, of course, but she felt angry with him. If he felt this way, he shouldn’t have come.

 

‹ Prev