by Nancy Revell
She glared at him.
‘I hate you, Tommy Watts. I hate you as much as I loved you. I wish I had never clapped eyes on you. I wish Helen had seduced you. Had taken you off me. Spared me all the hell you’ve put me through.’
Adrenaline was making her feel nauseous and she took a deep breath.
‘We have the chance of a life. A happy, loving life.’
Tears were once again spilling down her face.
‘And you’re choosing to give it all up. Sacrifice the life we could have. For what? Do you think that one person might change the course of this war? You’ve done your bit, Tommy. More than your bit. And you could keep doing your bit here.’
Polly let out a bitter laugh.
‘But, no. You’ve got to play the hero. Go back out there. Have another game of Russian roulette – why not?’
She cast Tommy a look that could only be described as demonic.
‘The more I think about it, the more I think you’ve really got a death wish, Tommy Watts. You’ve always said to me how much you’re not like your mam. But I think you’re exactly like her.’
Polly paused.
‘I think you want to die.’
Her words cut deep.
Polly pushed Tommy away with both hands.
‘Just go!’
She pushed him again.
‘Leave me alone. I never want to see you again. Ever.’
Chapter Forty-One
After sending the St John’s ambulance away, Dr Parker walked over to the admin building.
Walking up the stairs and opening the door to the main office, he was struck by an eerie quietness. There was no one else about. Everyone had gone home.
He headed for Helen’s office. The door was open.
He stood in the entrance and looked at Helen sitting at her desk. Her head was bent over a pile of order forms. Sensing someone was there, she looked up.
‘Well, thank goodness that all went off all right,’ Helen said, grabbing her packet of Pall Malls on her desk and reaching for her ashtray. ‘I’m guessing Tommy passed his medical?’ She sat back in her chair.
‘He did,’ Dr Parker said, not making any effort to come into the room.
He heard purring and looked down at the floor to see Winston cleaning himself in front of the electric fire.
How he wished for such an uncomplicated life.
‘I’ve got to tell you something,’ he said simply.
Helen looked at him. Her beautiful emerald eyes were ice-cold.
‘He’s going back, isn’t he?’ It was a question to which she knew the answer.
Dr Parker nodded.
‘You’ve just sanctioned him as being medically fit for service, haven’t you?’
Her words were accusatory.
Dr Parker nodded again.
There was no use trying to explain to her that there was nothing he could do. Tommy was going back out to Gibraltar regardless.
‘I don’t know who I’m more furious with – you or him!’ She tried to keep her voice at an acceptable level. ‘You for allowing it, or him for wanting it.’
Dr Parker looked at Helen and once again saw the fierce love he firmly believed she still held for Tommy.
She would never stop loving him. He knew that. Had known it from the moment Tommy had woken up in his hospital bed.
‘Well, my dear,’ Dr Parker said, finding it difficult to hide the hurt in his voice. ‘You’re just going to have to be furious – with us both.’
And with that, he turned on his heel and left.
Helen pushed herself out of her chair and stood for a moment, taken aback. She picked up Winston, who started purring even more loudly. The cat nuzzled her neck.
Realising she wasn’t going to get any more work done, she put Winston down and picked up her bag and gas mask. Leaving the admin building, she scrabbled around for her torch.
‘Bloody blackouts!’ she cursed under her breath.
Passing through the main gates and walking up the start of the embankment, she heard a woman crying.
She flashed her light around and that’s when she saw her. Crouched down by the side of the Admiral, her knees up to her chest, her head in her hands.
Helen hurried over.
‘Polly! Oh my God! Polly!’ She bobbed down the best she could in her tailored dress, dropping her torch, which rolled to the side. ‘Look at me!’ She grabbed hold of Polly’s hand.
Polly looked up.
Her eyes spoke of her deep, deep heartache.
Helen would not want to be in Polly’s shoes now. Not for all the tea in China.
Here was a woman ripped apart by love.
‘Oh, Polly, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. John told me.’ She coaxed Polly up. ‘Come here.’ She gently pulled her to standing. ‘Where’s Tommy now?’
Polly’s eyes flashed at Helen. A new target for her anger.
‘If I knew I’d tell you! You could go to him! Have him! Have him all to yourself!’
Polly started crying angry tears again.
‘Oh Polly, that’s all in the past now. That was a lifetime ago.’ Helen’s voice was almost weary. She surveyed Polly. ‘I’m just surprised he’s left you here, like this?’
Polly looked at her. The anger had short-circuited and sorrow reconnected.
‘I told him to go. I never want to see him again.’
Her words felt as though they were choking her. Her hand went to her throat.
Polly swallowed hard.
Hand still at her throat, she inhaled air.
‘I told him the wedding’s off.’
And with that, Polly broke down into uncontrollable tears once again.
Helen held Polly as her body juddered.
They stayed like that for a few minutes, until a couple of shipyard workers came out of the pub. The brief show of light before the door banged shut drew their attention to the two women.
Helen glowered at them.
They walked on.
‘We were meant to be meeting everyone here.’ Polly cocked her head over to the main entrance.
‘Are they in there now?’ Helen asked, half dreading the answer. She’d never ventured into the Admiral before.
Polly nodded.
‘Do you want to go in and see them?’ Helen crossed her fingers the answer would be no.
‘Yes, I best go and tell them what’s happened.’
Helen took a deep breath.
‘Come on, then.’
When they walked into the smoky pub it took a moment for Helen’s eyes to adjust to the light.
‘There they are,’ Polly said. ‘Over there.’
Helen looked over to where Polly was pointing. At the same time, the women spotted them.
Their faces dropped.
Helen guided Polly over to their table.
‘Oh my God, what’s happened?’ Dorothy had grabbed Angie’s hand in shock at the state of their friend. She had seemed the happiest person on the planet the last time they’d seen her.
‘Is Tommy all right?’ Gloria asked, looking up at Helen.
‘Oh, Tommy’s just fine.’ Polly spat out the words.
Gloria, Dorothy, Angie, Martha, Hannah, Olly, Bel and Marie-Anne were all staring at Polly, agog.
‘What’s happened?’ Bel was sitting on the far side of the table. She tried to reach Polly’s hand but couldn’t.
Polly looked around at all the women, her eyes red and puffy.
Her words were clipped and seething with anger.
‘He’s going back to war.’
There was silence.
In the end, it was Helen who spoke.
‘Let me get you a drink, Polly. Brandy?’
‘Please,’ Polly said.
Helen looked around the table. Most of the glasses were just about empty.
‘Why don’t I get another round in?’
Martha stood up.
‘I’ll give you a hand. I know what everyone’s drinking.’
‘You’ve cal
led off the wedding!’ Dorothy couldn’t contain herself.
Everyone was staring at Polly in disbelief.
It was shocking that Tommy was going back to war, but for Polly to then call off the wedding was something none of them would have foreseen in a million years.
The women’s attention was diverted to Helen and Martha making their way back over to the table. Helen had what looked like a very large brandy in one hand and a gin and tonic in the other. Martha was carrying a tray with the rest of the drinks.
‘Here you are.’ Helen gave Polly her drink.
‘Thanks.’ Polly looked up. ‘Sorry for being a total cow out there.’
Gloria pulled a stool out for Helen next to where she was sitting.
‘Don’t be daft,’ Helen said, sitting down, grateful to be next to Gloria.
For the next hour all the women sat and gently coaxed information out of Polly.
The large brandy had the calming effect she needed, but it was also causing sporadic outbursts of tears and anger.
In fragments, the whole scene that had taken place in the yard was relayed.
‘I think what makes this all harder is knowing that nothing I will ever say will get him to change his mind,’ she said, finishing her double brandy.
She looked worn out.
Bel knew to take the reins and told Polly that they best be getting home. Agnes would need to be told the news. And Arthur. Poor Arthur. He was going to be devastated.
‘I’ll see you all in the morning,’ Polly said.
‘See ya, then,’ Angie said.
‘Sleep on it.’ Hannah stood up and made her way round the table to give Polly a hug.
‘Please don’t make a decision on the wedding this evening. See how you feel in the morning. Everything always looks different in the light of day.’
Polly hugged Hannah back, but her eyes looked dead.
‘It won’t,’ she said simply.
The women saw the hardening of Polly’s heart.
‘I’ll never marry Tommy.’
Chapter Forty-Two
After a cold and windy ferry crossing, followed by a fifteen-minute walk through the east end, which seemed to be full of children and courting couples, Bel and Polly arrived at St Ignatius Church.
‘Please, Polly, sleep on it,’ Bel implored. ‘There’s no rush. You can tell the vicar tomorrow. Like Hannah said, you might feel differently tomorrow.’
Polly looked at her sister-in-law.
‘I won’t.’ Polly’s voice was steely. ‘Just as I know that Tommy won’t change his mind tomorrow, neither will I change mine.’
Bel followed Polly round the side of the church. It was a building they knew well. It had been a mainstay of their childhood and where they’d gone to Sunday school. It was where Bel had married Teddy and Lucille had been christened. Whatever the occasion, though, she and Polly had always been there together.
Just like they were now.
‘Do you want me to come in with you?’ Bel asked.
‘No,’ Polly said, knocking on the door of the rectory. ‘It won’t take long.’
Polly was true to her word. Bel had only been shuffling about trying to keep warm for a matter of minutes when she reappeared.
‘It’s done.’
Bel could have cried. Would cry later, no doubt, when she told the whole sorry story to Joe.
As they passed the ruins at the start of Tatham Street, neither uttered a word.
It was here Polly had learnt that Tommy had been returned to her.
Now, just two months on, he was being snatched away.
When Polly and Bel walked through the front door at Tatham Street, it was like walking into a morgue.
Agnes heard them open the door but chose to wait in the kitchen.
As soon as Polly saw her ma, she burst into tears.
Agnes looked at Bel as she took her daughter in her arms. She could see the terrible sadness – also mixed with anger – in Bel’s eyes. The ripples of Tommy’s decision to go back to war would spread as far as they would go deep.
‘He’s going back, Ma. He’s going back.’ Polly’s voice was muffled against her mother’s chest as she held her tight.
Agnes held her daughter for a good while, until she had exhausted herself and the sobs had finally died down.
‘Come on,’ she said. ‘Come and sit down. Bel’s made us a nice pot of tea.’
Agnes gave Bel a weary smile.
The three women sat around the table as Bel poured the tea.
‘How did you know?’ Bel asked Agnes, adding extra sugar to Polly’s cup and handing it to her.
Agnes looked at Polly. She was deathly pale.
‘Tommy,’ she said. ‘He came around here straight after.’
Polly suddenly started fishing around in the top pocket of her overalls, agitated.
She pulled out her engagement ring and slammed it on the table.
‘He can have this back as well.’
She may have exhausted the tears, but not the anger.
They all looked at the pretty ruby and diamond engagement ring oscillating on the top of the kitchen table.
Bel worked hard at holding back her tears. It was all so sad. So terribly sad.
Realising how quiet it was, she looked at Agnes.
‘Is Lucille next door?’
Agnes nodded. She had not wanted the little girl to see Polly in the state she was in now.
‘And Arthur?’
‘He left with Tommy. They’ve gone for a drink.’
‘Do you think he’ll be able to talk some sense into him?’ Bel asked.
‘You never know,’ Agnes lied. When Tommy had sat her down and told her what his intentions were, Agnes had seen that his mind was made up.
They drank their tea in silence. Words seemed futile.
After Polly finished, she rebuffed her mother’s urge to eat something. Instead, she took herself off to bed, praying that sleep would give her some respite from the living hell she had just been plunged back into.
‘Her mind’s made up,’ Tommy said. ‘I can tell. She’s had enough, and to be honest, I don’t blame her. She’s right, I’ve put her through enough. If I was her, I’d probably do exactly the same. Why put yourself through the wringer for the second time?’
Arthur took a sip of his whisky. He nodded, but didn’t say anything.
‘You understand why I’m doing what I’m doing, don’t yer, Grandda?’
Tommy knew that the old man would be gutted he was going back.
‘Aye, I do,’ Arthur conceded. ‘But that’s not to say I’m happy about it.’
‘Did yer know?’
‘I had an inkling,’ Arthur said. ‘Guessed yer would if yer could.’
Tommy took a gulp of his beer.
‘I just wish I could make Polly understand,’ he mumbled.
Comparing him to his mother had hurt, but Polly was wrong if that’s what she really thought. He did not have a death wish. Anything but. Since falling for Polly, he had never wanted to live more. Couldn’t she realise that?
‘I can’t stay here if I feel I could still be of more use over there.’ Tommy looked around the crowded bar. The air was thick with smoke. There were mainly shipyard workers here, enjoying a quick pint before heading home.
‘I still think about the nurse,’ he admitted.
Arthur nodded his understanding.
‘I keep thinking that I might not have been able to save her, but I can save others.’
He paused and took a sip of his drink.
‘For every limpet mine I get off the bottom of a boat, there’ll be at least a dozen lives saved.’
Arthur nodded. It was so like his grandson to be thinking about saving lives rather than killing.
The two men sat in silence for a while, both immersed in their own thoughts.
‘Give her time,’ Arthur said eventually. ‘She’ll come around.’
Unfortunately, thought Tommy, time was not on his side.
/> When Arthur returned home shortly before ten, Agnes was still up.
She had made a fresh pot of tea and had got the whisky out in anticipation.
‘Tea?’ she said.
‘Do yer mind if I just have it straight?’ Arthur took a tumbler from the sideboard, sat down at the kitchen table and poured himself a drink.
Agnes put a splash of Scotch into her cup and added tea and a touch of milk.
They chatted for a little while.
Arthur confirmed what Agnes had surmised when she had seen Tommy.
The lad was adamant.
Agnes told Arthur that Polly had already been to see the vicar and had cancelled the wedding.
The pair agreed that a truce in the near future seemed unlikely.
Polly and Tommy’s love had become another casualty of this damned war.
Chapter Forty-Three
The next day
Sunday 13 December
‘Polly’s called off the wedding?’ Rosie asked, shocked.
Charlotte looked from Gloria to her sister and then back to Gloria. They were all in the front lounge. Gloria was sitting on the sofa while Rosie poured the tea. Charlotte was keeping Hope amused whilst trying not to miss a single word of the conversation.
‘Yes,’ Gloria said, taking her cup and saucer off Rosie. ‘Her mind seemed pretty much made up.’
She took a sip and looked at Rosie.
‘You don’t seem all that surprised that Tommy’s going back out there, though?’
‘I’m not, really,’ Rosie said. ‘I had a feeling there was more to this dive than simply getting the thumbs up to go back to work.’
Gloria was quiet for a moment while she blew on her tea.
‘Well,’ she said finally. ‘It certainly was a bolt out of the blue for Polly. She clearly had no idea. It was like she was in shock. Shaking. Horrible vacant look in her eyes.’
‘Perhaps she didn’t want to see the signs,’ Rosie mused.
‘So, you don’t think they’ll get back together?’ Charlotte asked. She sounded desolate.
Gloria shook her head.