He was glad that Millie wouldn’t have arrived home yet, and, positive that it would be either young Janet or Mrs Meldrum who would answer his knock, he was surprised when Millie herself opened the door. She said nothing, merely held the door open for him to enter, and he walked past her, feverishly searching for a way to deal with this unforeseen circumstance. His entrance caused some consternation in the dining room. One of Mrs Meldrum’s hands flew to her mouth, the other to her heart, while her husband lumbered clumsily to his feet, looking shocked, but with an underlying hint of anger.
Willie addressed himself to the man. ‘I’m sorry to interrupt you at your meal, Mr Meldrum. It was you I came to see, but it was about Millie, so maybe I’d better speak to her in private first. With your permission, of course, sir?’
‘What you want to say should be said in front of me, I think.’
‘No, Father,’ Millie put in. ‘Let us have some time to discuss it on our own. This is just between the two of us until we iron things out.’
His wife’s practically imperceptible nod made Herbert Meldrum sit down. ‘All right, William, but even if you can get Millie to understand why you have never come to see her for almost a year, you will need a more convincing explanation for me. As for you, young lady, home by nine, no later. You can surely do all the talking you want in two hours.’
‘Thank you, Mr Meldrum.’ Millie took her bicycle, too, in order to get a suitable distance away and still have time to talk at length. They did not go as far as Cooper’s Burn, but found another secluded spot that fitted the bill. It was growing dark, but Willie spread his greatcoat on the grass and sat down a little way apart from her.
‘Let me have my say first,’ he begged her. ‘It’s really difficult for me and I want to get it all off my chest.’
She said nothing, regarding him with an expression he couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t anger, as it may well have been, as she had every right for it to be, but curiosity, with a slight touch of apprehension. He began by trying to excuse the long period in which he had made no actual contact with her; the reason for his not coming home on leave for the last three times. ‘I didn’t want to repeat what I did that last time. The more I thought about that, the more I realised that it would only be a matter of time before I … before something happened. I couldn’t possibly have been with you for any length of time and kept my hands off you. Millie, I love you more than I could ever tell you; more than life itself, but I knew it wouldn’t be fair to you if I took my pleasure without considering what it would do to your career.’
‘I don’t give a damn about my …’
‘No, my darling, don’t say that. It does matter, if not to you, at least to your father. I don’t want him to be disappointed in you as well as in me, and he wouldn’t just have been disappointed if you’d left varsity, he’d have been devastated.’
‘I know, but it’s my life, and I …’
‘Please don’t make things more difficult, Millie, dear. What I’m trying to tell you now, is that if you accept my absolute promise that I won’t look at any other girl, and that I’ll write to you as often as I can, will you believe that it’s not because I don’t want to see you, it’s because I can’t trust myself if I’m near you? I promise to marry you after the war if you still love me.’
‘Of course I’ll still love you!’ she cried. ‘I’ll always love you, surely you can understand that? I won’t care if you make me pregnant a dozen times before the war ends …’
‘Millie, Millie.’ He shook his head hopelessly. ’You’re not being realistic. Your father would probably throw you out, throw us both out, and never have anything more to do with us.’
‘I don’t care. As long as I have you, I’ll be …’
‘No, you think that now, but there would come a time when you resented me, even hated me for wrecking your family life.’
‘I wouldn’t! I could never hate you; I’ll love you till the day I die.’
‘And I’ll love you till the day I die, but … oh, Millie, my darling girl …’ With a rush of dismay, he remembered that he hadn’t told her of his posting, and leaned across and took her hand in his. ‘Listen, my dearest, I should have told you this from the beginning. I’ve been recalled. We’re being sent overseas.’
‘No, Willie, they can’t do that to us. Not when we’re back together again. Say you’re joking.’
‘I wouldn’t joke about something like that.’ He became aware that she was crying, quite softly but tearing at his heart.
‘Oh, Lord!’ he groaned, rolled over and took her in his arms, their kisses taking them into the realms of a paradise neither of them could deny, and all Willie’s long-debated resolves scattered into the inky darkness.
It was almost impossible for the two young lovers to pull away and accept that they had to get back to the schoolhouse, otherwise what they had planned could never come to pass. Splashing their faces in the rippling burn, they hurriedly adjusted their clothing and lifted their bicycles. On the way, Willie further revealed where he had gone on the times he had not come home on leave to Burnton. ‘I’ve made some good pals since I’ve been in the Gordons, one who reminds me of Poopie Grant, actually. Pat Michie’s a year older than I am, but he depends on me for everything; he’s so shy he doesn’t like standing up for himself, and I sort of fight his battles for him.’
‘Like you did for – Poopie?’
‘Exactly, and when I said I didn’t want to go home …’ He hesitated for a moment and then continued. ‘You see, I knew I’d never be easy near you because I wanted you so much and the best thing was to stay away from anywhere I’d be likely to run into you. Anyway, I never told him why and he never asked, but he invited me home with him. He comes from Elgin, and his mother made me very welcome. Pat and I had some great times together there. He took me round his relatives and showed me some of the places he thought I’d be interested in. He told me all about his childhood, how he’d been bullied at school and …’
‘So now you feel protective of him, too? But I believe you also had a bit of excitement?’
‘Ah, well, yes. I suppose you know I saw Gordon Brodie?’
‘I heard stories. You know how things like that get around. No doubt you had felt it would be too dull for you to come home after all that.’
‘No, Millie, it’s no reflection on you, so try to understand. I do love you with all my heart and soul, but I must keep at a distance. I can’t trust myself when I’m with you.’
‘I think I understand … but you’ll write to me, won’t you? I’ll be better able to stand us being apart if I have your letters to read.’
‘Of course I’ll write, and I swear to you, as soon as I get out of the army, I’ll come home and marry you. That’s the dream I’ve had all the time.’ He cast a quick questioning glance at her. ‘If you still want me, that’ll be. You might find …’
‘Willie, I’ll never want anyone else. I’ll be waiting for you, for as long as it takes.’
Less than ten minutes later, they went in to face the questioning, the arguments. It was quite apparent from their manners that Mrs Meldrum had talked her husband into a more receptive frame of mind. Of course, they weren’t very happy that Willie wouldn’t come to see Millie until the war ended, although he would keep up a correspondence with her, but the news of his posting let them know that this was what he would have to do in any case.
Herbert, however, didn’t intend giving them any more leeway, and insisted on seeing Willie out, while Margaret took her daughter upstairs. ‘Now, young man,’ the dominie said, ‘don’t think you’ve got away with the way you’ve treated Millie. She was deeply hurt that you never came home on your last few furloughs.’
‘I’m sorry about that, Mr Meldrum. Desperately sorry, but I was trying to be honourable. I love her so much that I was afraid I’d …’
‘That you would have raped her?’ The voice was cold and accusing.
‘No, sir, I would never have forced her, but she loves me a
s much as I love her, and it would have been inevitable.’
The stern face relaxed. ‘You know, William, you remind me of myself when I was your age. I loved Margaret so much that I had to keep her at arm’s length for over a year in case I lost my head and took advantage of her, and when I told her so on our wedding night, she said she had been disappointed that I hadn’t.’ The grey eyes twinkled suddenly. ‘You did the honourable thing, and I’m quite impressed. Goodbye, lad, and God be with you.’
Millie did not sleep easily that night. Last time, she had hoped that Willie had made her pregnant and she could expect him to marry her – which he would have done, being such a decent boy – but that hadn’t happened and he had never come back to repeat the act until tonight. Now that he was to be sent overseas, she didn’t wish for any complications that would put the cat slap bang in the middle of the pigeons, for her father would forbid her to see Willie ever again.
She did fall asleep a little before dawn, a restless sleep in which she saw herself trailing away from the schoolhouse carrying a shawled bundle, while her father stood at the door, his eyes filled with hate, or more probably with contempt. Where could she go? Who could she turn to? There was no one except … Auntie Sophie? Would she take mother and child in? If not, what would become of them?
It was a great relief to awaken to the chorus of birds in the sycamore trees at the foot of the garden. It was still only just after seven, she saw, and Willie would be on his way to Udny Station. They had been … she had been, so stupid, letting her feelings run away with her last night. If she had said no, Willie would have stopped. But she hadn’t wanted to say no, and she had only herself to blame if the worst had happened.
Willie was halfway to Aberdeen to get another train to King’s Cross when the consequences of his actions of the night before rose up to hit him in the gut. What a bloody fool he’d been. Surely to God he could have held himself back and not let things go that far? He was a damned weakling, that’s what he was. A lecher. A rapist. But it hadn’t been rape. Millie had been as carried away by passion as he was. If she’d asked him to stop, he’d have stopped. Or would he? Had he been past the point of no return? Yes, he had. By gum, he had. Recalling the episode, his libido rising as quickly as his apprehension, he wondered if Millie herself was worldly wise enough to know how to prevent conception or stop it continuing even after it had occurred. He’d heard from other young men how their girlfriends had tried drinking liquid paraffin or gin and various other methods before they succeeded – or, in most cases, hadn’t succeeded. He’d even heard of girls having to go to some back-street abortionist to get rid of what had grown into a well-formed foetus.
For God’s sake, he thought, don’t let what I did make Millie have to go through all that. And there were her parents to consider. Her father would go off his head with anger; he’d want to kill the man concerned with his bare hands, and, of course, he’d know exactly who the man was – the ungrateful lout who had accepted his money and got his daughter up the spout by way of thanks. Some show of gratitude. Feeling thoroughly disgusted with himself, Willie alighted from the carriage at the Joint Station and, recognising others of his unit also waiting for a connection, he went to join them. Anything to get away from his own painful thoughts.
Chapter Twenty
Millie Meldrum was very upset at Willie for not writing. He was still in this country – as far as she knew, anyway – so he couldn’t be kept so busy that he didn’t have time to write. As the weeks passed, the upset turned to worry that he had found somebody else. Her Aunt Sophie did her best to soothe her ruffled feelings. ‘I’d think they’ll be kept busy getting special training now, preparing them for going overseas.’
‘He did say it was embarkation leave, but they wouldn’t have sent them away yet?’
‘I don’t know for sure, of course,’ Sophie hedged now, ‘but my guess is yes, they would, and you’d better prepare yourself. He’s not away on holiday, enjoying himself every minute of the day. I’d think they get very little time off.’
‘Enough to look for another girlfriend.’
‘Stop feeling so sorry for yourself, girl. Willie Fowlie is head over heels in love with you – even I could see that when he was here. He wouldn’t look at another girl.’
‘But he only came home once before, when his basic training was done.’
‘He wrote and told you why. He wants to see a bit more of this country. I mean, I can understand him wanting to take advantage of travelling at the army’s expense.’
‘Can you?’ Millie said sourly. ‘I can’t. If it was me, I’d rather come home to see my girlfriend.’ She looked flustered at that. ‘You know what I mean.’
‘Yes, my dear, I do know what you mean, but boys are different from girls. They’re not so romantic, for one thing, and they’re quite happy being in male company all the time.’
Her head jerking up, Millie said angrily, ‘Are you trying to tell me he’s a pansy?’
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, girl! Don’t be so bloody silly!’
Recalling what had gone on the night that Willie had volunteered for the Gordons, Millie had to laugh. Of course he wasn’t a pansy. What on earth was she thinking about?
Although hundreds of affluent tourists had enjoyed long sea voyages before the war, the passengers on the packed troopship travelling to Egypt via the Cape of Good Hope were not so enamoured of it. There was the constant dread of the drone of enemy aircraft approaching and consigning their temporary home to the depths of the North Atlantic, plus the even more-to-be-feared silent U-boats, creeping near enough to release one or more torpedoes.
Despite this, the servicemen were mostly in a cheerful mood – outwardly, at least. It was during the nights, trying to snatch a few winks of sleep in whatever part of the ship they had been assigned to, that their imaginations took over. If we’re bombed and the ship goes down, what are we supposed to do? None of the convoys are allowed to stop to pick up survivors. They were not pleasant thoughts and it would be best to push them aside and look on the bright side. But … there didn’t seem to be a bright side. It was like running the gauntlet – taking your life in your hands.
Willie Fowlie, just as apprehensive as any, had an incentive to keep his spirits up. He could see that Pat Michie was absolutely petrified, and was liable to do something stupid if the ship was hit. With this in mind, he bombarded his friend with questions about his childhood – questions that took the other man’s mind off the present. Pat, of course, hadn’t been a ‘nickum’ like Willie, but he made his brief accounts fairly amusing.
When they finally disembarked, the relief was practically tangible, but they soon found that it was not much safer on land. The 1st and the 5th/7th Battalions of the Gordon Highlanders, who were already part of the 51st (Highland) Division, now became part of the British 8th Army, and were soon involved in the bitter fight against the Germans under their commander, Erwin Rommel. The troops they relieved were given local leave, but the new arrivals had little time to draw a breath, let alone write letters home. Fortunately they were issued with printed cards, with comments such as ‘I am well’ or ‘Hope you are well’ etc., to which they just had to tick whichever phrase was appropriate, sign it and add the name and address of the intended recipient.
The ensuing period was hell upon earth for all troops taking part in the struggle to gain possession of El Alamein, the Allies and the Axis forces alike, with each side temporarily taking the city in turn. Whenever possible, Willie Fowlie kept half an eye on his friend, and was pleased to see that Pat seemed to have conquered his blind terror and was giving a fairly believable imitation of acceptance of their situation.
They had all been given training in desert warfare, which helped them to stand up to their environment, but the days seemed inordinately long while the nights – unless they were on duty – seemed inordinately short. The night-time patrols were fraught with danger, unexpectedly running into a pair, or more, in hodden grey, or being shot at by snipe
rs on the lookout for ‘Tommies’ such as they.
Prior to what became known as the Battle of El Alamein, they had been given five days’ leave to spend locally. Some of their comrades passed the time in heavy drinking, some in the whorehouses that seemed to be there for their special benefit, some, like Willie and Pat, took advantage of the freedom to explore as much of the area as they could. They would probably be moved on when their task here was successfully finished and they would never get the chance again. They were expected go back refreshed and ready for action, but it was a motley crew who returned – several with life-sapping hangovers, some with medical problems from indiscriminate womanising, some quite well rested, but all desperately wishing they hadn’t had to come back.
It was some considerable time before Emily, and Millie, heard from Willie, and not a letter that would satisfy them as to his whereabouts and well-being; merely a communication pre-printed on a postcard, indicating that he was well and in good spirit, neither of which statements was believed by the woman or the girl. Even the address where he could be reached – his Service Number, followed by the letters BFPO, for British Forces Post Office – told them nothing.
It did ease Emily’s mind just a little, but Millie had much more to worry about than Willie’s health and whereabouts. She had missed her show twice, and was frantic with fear, of her father and of the unknown ordeal ahead of her. She had once hoped for pregnancy in order to get Willie to marry her, but with him fighting God knows where, what was she to do? She couldn’t expect him to come tearing home to give the infant a legitimate name, not now.
After spending many hours debating on what would be her best plan, she decided that she must tell Willie. He deserved to know. He was the father. The only thing was, did he want to be a father? They had never discussed that, although her instinct told her that he would be delighted – if things were different. If there weren’t a war on. If he was where he could get home in an hour or so to be with her at the crucial time.
The Nickum Page 21