by Rosie James
‘Yes, my parents eventually bought the place the year after the war started. They’re still mostly in London but this is a wonderful bolthole for them from time to time. And just the place for me now, to have some peace to recover.’ He moved in to her a little more closely. ‘There’s a housekeeper here to look after me and she is sure to remain, because Mulberry Court will always be our summer holiday home – and for long weekends.’
Abigail was suddenly desperate to know more about his injuries. ‘So – how badly were you hurt, Luke?’ she asked quietly. ‘How long do they think it will take for you to make a full recovery?’
He looked grim. ‘Oh, they never tell you anything exact. And to be fair, burn injuries always take a very long time.’ He shifted his legs, making a face. ‘But with a bit of luck I expect to be working in our Bristol office – perhaps by this time next year.’ He glanced down at Abigail. ‘I did go into Law – as I thought I might – and although my degree course was cut short when I was called up, I’ve managed to recover some of that time, and when I begin running the Bristol office of my father’s firm I should be reasonably fit and, hopefully, reasonably competent,’ he added.
Abigail could bear it no longer, because it was now or never. He was obviously not married – and neither was she! And they were here, together again! This was her moment!
She buried her face into his neck, and after several seconds, she asked softly, ‘Do you remember us promising that we’d be true to each other for the rest of our lives, Luke? Well, I have never stopped loving you, never stopped thinking about you, never stopped wanting you. And if you still feel the same about me, if you do, Luke, please say you’ll marry me. Please say you will.’ She paused in the heat-filled seconds. ‘We have both come through turmoil and I have so much to tell you – so could today be the happy ending I have dreamed about every night of my life?’
Not waiting for him to reply, and swallowing hard, Abigail went on quickly. ‘The most terrible part was not knowing anything about you or where you were studying. I mean, by chance I found out that you’d all left Mulberry Court, but that was all. You seemed to have disappeared without a trace and …’
Now he pulled her in towards him. ‘But I wrote to you, Abigail! A long, long letter, giving you the address of my London digs which I was going to be living in and promising to keep in regular touch.’ For a moment he looked aghast. ‘Are you saying that you didn’t get that letter? Or did your aunt destroy it before you were even aware of it?’ he said.
Abigail shook her head briefly. ‘The postman seldom has any reason to visit Coopers,’ she said, ‘and difficult though my aunt can be, I don’t think she would destroy anything addressed to me.’
‘Well, I just don’t understand it,’ Luke said, ‘and I can’t imagine what you must have thought of me in not contacting you! Surely you knew I would never cut off our relationship like that, Abigail! After all we’d said to each other, promised each other … did you really think me that cold and uncaring?’ He raised an eyebrow briefly. ‘Though I did wonder why I never had a reply to that letter,’ he added.
Gazing up at him as he spoke, Abigail felt a rush of love and longing run through her. Of course there’d had to be an explanation of his silence, and he’d just given it to her. With her arm around his waist, she leaned against him.
‘It was all a long time ago, Luke, wasn’t it?’ she said softly. ‘None of that matters anymore. All that matters is that we could be together again, for ever this time, and whatever happens in the future, I promise to take care of you for the rest of my days.’
Now the silence between them was so painful, Abigail thought she really was going to pass out. Her senses were swimming, distant sounds from the village were fading and she could feel her body sag against his.
‘My dearest Abigail,’ he said softly. ‘I have kept my promise. I have never loved anyone else but you. Have never even thought I would.’
In the silence that followed she caught her breath, looking up.
‘Darling Abigail,’ he murmured. ‘What man living would not wish to hear those words from a beautiful, kind and loving woman?’ He held her away, looking into her eyes. ‘But I’m sorry I cannot marry you,’ he said quietly. ‘This war has changed me and I am not the same person you once knew. So, although it tortures me to say it, I cannot marry you, that is how it is I’m afraid. How it has to be.’
Abigail was horrified. What did he mean? Why couldn’t he marry her?
‘Of course the war has changed you, Luke!’ she said. ‘It has changed us all! But we are not going to let that ruin the rest of our entire lives, are we? There is still so much to do, to achieve, to live for, and doing it together will make it all happen! Whatever lies ahead will be easy – if we’re in it together!’
‘No. Look at me, Abigail,’ he said earnestly. ‘I will never marry – and I cannot marry you – because I was so severely burned it’s very unlikely that I would ever be able to give you what we both would want. Children. The chance to bring a child into the world, a child as lovely as you must be for someone else to do.’
With relief flooding her senses, Abigail stood up. ‘Wait here,’ she said. ‘Don’t move before I come back. I’ll only be a few minutes.’
With winged feet and her heart on fire, Abigail raced down the path and he stared after her, frowning.
‘What is it? Where are you going?’
But she was already through the gate and running along the road and around the corner, past the school towards the market. At first glance, it looked as if the performance was over because children were now milling around the stalls again. Almost at once she could see Emily coming towards her, smiles all over her face.
‘Emily – come with me,’ Abigail said breathlessly, taking her daughter’s hand. ‘There’s someone I want you to meet.’
Trotting obediently alongside her mother, Emily looked up. ‘Why? Who is it, Mummy?’
‘Tell you in a minute.’
Then they were walking back up the path of Mulberry Court towards the bench where Luke was still sitting. And seeing them, he stood up shakily, grasping one of his crutches and staring at Emily. After a long moment, he said huskily, ‘Yours?’
Abigail smiled up at him and paused before answering.
‘Ours,’ she replied.
For what seemed like an eternity they just stood and gazed at each other until, like the sun coming out from behind a cloud, realisation crept over Luke’s handsome features. And swiftly, he encircled Abigail’s waist and pulled her in to him.
But Abigail turned and looked down at Emily. ‘This is your daddy, Emily,’ she said softly. ‘We both knew he had to go away for a long time, didn’t we? Well, he’s here now. He’s here with us again.’
Emily gazed up at Luke. ‘My daddy. My very own daddy?’
‘Your very own daddy.’
Then with a beatific smile on her lips, Emily stepped forward and held out her hand.
‘How do you do?’ she said.
Epilogue
On Tuesday the 8th of May 1945, VE Day – Victory in Europe Day – was celebrated by the many millions who had been praying for it for six long years. It was a bank holiday, and everyone made the most of it, dancing and singing in the streets. Complete strangers hugging each other in relief and gratitude. Standing at the balcony of Buckingham Palace, the King and Queen and the two Princesses, together with the Prime Minister Winston Churchill stood and waved, returning time after time to respond to the demands of the thousands below. And everywhere in the country people remained glued to the wireless, drinking in all the sounds and excitement of victory.
Later, after the dropping of the first atomic bombs in early August, the war with Japan ended and finally, World War Two reached its terrible conclusion.
Number Six West Road, Knowle, Bristol
2nd April 1946
Dear Aunt Edna,
I am really hoping that you are still living at the last address you gave me. I haven’t heard
from you for a while.
I also hope that, wherever you are, Aunt, you will be able to join us at All Saints Church, Knowle here in Bristol, where I am to marry Emily’s father – Luke Jordan. Did you know anything of the Jordan family who lived at Mulberry Court in the village? Well, the wedding will be the week after Easter, on Saturday the 27th of April, and the day after, Sunday the 28th, Emily Grace is to be christened.
Please say that you are free to be with us that weekend, Aunt. I really would like you there because it will somehow mean Dada is there with me as well. And of course, I want you to meet Luke – and he has said that he is looking forward to meeting you, too.
As you can see, I am still at the same address, but after we are married Luke and Emily and I will be living at a house in St Stephen’s Road – which is also in this area so I will still always be close to my best friends.
Please let me know soon, Aunt. And if you can be there I will arrange accommodation for you for that weekend.
With my love,
Abigail
On a fine morning on the 27th of April, Abigail in her white bridal gown, accompanied by Emily holding her hand and with her bridesmaids Carrie, Eileen and Janet walking behind, made her way slowly down the aisle of All Saints to reach Luke, who was waiting for her at the front. He was without his crutches.
Reverend Jonathan Waters greeted the bride and her little supporter with his usual generous smile, and at the appropriate moment in the ceremony announced himself as the one giving the bride to her groom.
In pride of place in the front pew on the left, Gladys Matthews, almost overwhelmed with happiness, sat next to Edna Wilson while the opposite front pew had been quite properly reserved for Luke’s parents. They had never been as happy in their lives – after having once thought their son had been killed in the war, now they had ‘a beautiful daughter-in-law and the sweetest granddaughter anyone could wish for.’
Next morning, with the church almost full to witness the event, Emily Grace was christened, with her five godmothers Edna Wilson, Gladys Matthews, Eileen Matthews, Carrie Waters and Janet Robertson in close and loving attendance. Standing alongside in full military uniform were the two godfathers – Mark Anderson and Simon Hill.
After Jonathan Waters pronounced solemnly, ‘Emily Grace – I baptise you in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost,’ the longed-for words which Abigail had thought she would never hear, Emily spoke up, to the amazed surprise of everyone present.
‘Thank you. Thank you very much,’ she said.
On the 26th October that same year, Carrie and Mark, and Eileen and Simon, were married in a double-wedding ceremony at All Saints, with Abigail as Matron of Honour and Emily as chief bridesmaid.
At all three nuptials that year, Joan Waters had been in charge of the catering, and despite the ever more stringent food rationing, the tables at each event had groaned with the wedding feasts.
Finally, after the double-wedding breakfast was over, Emily Grace started to help clear the tables in the church hall and she looked up at Mrs Matthews who’d just finished washing up another tray of wine glasses. ‘I’m very glad that we were both given the piece of wedding cake with the most icing on it, aren’t you, Mrs Gladys?’ Emily said.
Eileen’s mother smiled broadly. ‘Very glad indeed, Emily,’ she said.
As Joan Waters stored away the remaining piece of the one-tier cake, to be eaten she hoped at a future christening, she glanced fondly at those two and shook her head. The gracious lady and the bright little girl were chattering away non-stop. Joan could not imagine what those two always found to giggle so much about.
Gripped by The War Girls? Don’t miss Front Line Nurse, another unputdownable novel from Rosie James. Available now!
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Acknowledgements
All details concerning the air raids and their effect on the city were taken from Bristol historian Reece Winstone’s fascinating book Bristol in the 1940’s. Should there be any minor discrepancies they are, of course, entirely mine.
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