Chapter Twenty-Three
Over the next few weeks, Renee Williams learned the meaning of purgatory because Glynn made love to her only on Mondays, as he had threatened. She stopped protesting after the third week, and allowed herself to respond to him, in the hope, at first, that it would prove to him that she really did love him, but eventually out of her own need for him.
He was a good companion at all other times, and had made no objection to her carrying on her correspondence with Jack Thomson and Tim Donaldson, but she always showed him their letters, and her replies, to avoid any unnecessary jealousy springing up. She had written to both of them after the honeymoon, telling them how happy she was – what else could she say? – and Tim’s answer had delighted her.
I’m really pleased for you and I’m beginning to think I was wrong in not asking Moira to get engaged before I was called up. I’ve decided to pop the question the next time I’m on leave, so keep your fingers crossed for me.
Love, Tim.
Jack’s reply was more serious:
As I told you when I saw you, I’m glad you’ve found happiness at last. I wish you and your Welshman good luck, and good fortune in the future.
Your old friend, JACK.
Renee felt a sense of desolation when she read it, but perhaps he’d considered that writing ‘Love’ would be out of place now that she was married, although that kind of nicety hadn’t bothered Tim.
Occasionally, Anne received letters from Mike, passing on the reports Babs sent him about their son, but since he’d been posted, Fred Schaper had written to her only once, telling her that he was being sent overseas. It had been a light-hearted letter which he ended by saying, ‘Give my best wishes to Renee and Glynn, I hope their wedding went off without a hitch. From your more-than-just-a-friend, Fred.’ Anne didn’t know if her reply had reached him before he left England. ‘If my letter didn’t get there in time,’ she said to Renee one day, ‘he might have thought I didn’t want to write, and he’ll be feeling very hurt about it. I shouldn’t have taken so long to make up my mind about it.’
‘He’d surely have sent another letter just to make sure?’ The girl felt extremely sorry for her mother, but her own life was far from perfect at the moment, too.
‘He wouldn’t have wanted to pester me,’ Anne said, sadly. ‘If only I knew where he was.’
‘He’ll write when he arrives at wherever they’ve sent him. Don’t worry about it, Mum.’
No letters ever came for Glynn Williams. ‘Doesn’t your mother ever write to you?’ Renee asked, about three months after they were married. ‘Or don’t you write to her?’
His eyes shifted guiltily. ‘I do write to her, but she can’t forgive me for marrying you, so she sends her letters to the Battery. I think she tries to convince herself that I’m still single.’
‘Oh, that’s just great!’
Her sarcasm made him wince. ‘Look, Renee, I’ll take you to meet her on my next leave, if you can get off work. I’m sure she’ll surrender to your charm as quickly as I did.’
She regarded this as some progress, and gladly made enquiries the next morning. Mr Murchie, old Bill, was quite agreeable to letting her have a week off after the New Year, and she waited rather impatiently for the weeks to pass.
Unfortunately, two days before they were due to go to Wales, Sheila Daun broke her leg at the skating rink, and because Renee wanted Glynn to have a chance to reason with his mother, she persuaded him, with very little difficulty, to go without her.
‘There’ll be other opportunities for me to meet her, Glynn, but tell her how sorry I am that I couldn’t go this time, and say that I hope I see her soon.’
He looked rather ashamed. ‘Renee, I . . . you’re so kind and understanding, in spite of everything. I wish I could . . . Maybe this break from each other is what I need to . . .’
His inarticulacy gave her fresh hope. ‘Maybe it is, my darling, and all the time you’re away I’ll be praying that things work out for us.’
On the day he was to travel to Wales, he kissed her warmly before she left for work. ‘I’ll do my best to talk Mam round.’ During the morning and afternoon, Renee often wondered where Glynn was at that minute, so she was astonished to see the army greatcoat on the hallstand when she went home at six o’clock. What had made him change his mind about going? She burst into the living room, but it wasn’t Glynn who was sitting there.
‘Jack! Oh, it’s good to see you!’ she cried before she could prevent herself. ‘You’re looking well,’ she added, rather more primly.
‘So are you, but you’re a bit thinner. Are you living on love these days?’
‘That’s right.’ Conversation between them had to be light and impersonal. If he suspected that something was wrong with her marriage, he was liable to be sympathetic and want to know the whys and wherefores, and she could never divulge the true reason. She loved Glynn as much as ever, and he loved her.
Realising that Jack was regarding her curiously, she asked him what had been happening to him recently. They were laughing uproariously when Anne came through, and the jokes flew backwards and forwards until she held up her hand. ‘Enough! My sides are sore with laughing. You two get worse and worse.’
‘Sit down and have a rest, Mrs Gordon, and my friend’ll help me to carry things through for you.’
He winked to Renee, who stood to attention and saluted.
‘Yes, Sir Friend.’
After their meal, Jack offered to do the washing up with Renee again, and they worked together companionably, keeping up their usual chaffing banter. In a short lull, Renee ventured to ask the question which often occurred to her.
‘Have you got a steady girl yet, Jack? I see you’ve got rid of the moustache.’
He pulled a grotesque face. ‘Betty didn’t like it after all, and, anyway, she started going out with a corporal, so a humble lance wasn’t good enough. I wasn’t all that bothered, though, and I’ve been out with quite a few girls since then, though I still enjoy a good night out with the boys.’
‘Once you meet the right girl, you’ll feel different.’
‘The only girl for me . . . married somebody else.’ His voice was low, almost a whisper.
Renee avoided his gentle, caring eyes. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘No need. I’ll get over it.’ He broke the tension by spinning another yarn, and they were soon giggling again. During the next hour and a half, Jack regaled the two women with tales of the happenings, serious as well as humorous, at his station and, before they knew it, it was time for him to leave.
He stood up regretfully. ‘The time’s just flown past, but if I miss the last bus to Peterhead at nine I’ll be stranded.’
‘You could come back and sleep on the settee,’ Anne told him. ‘You’re welcome any time, you know that.’
‘Thanks, Mrs Gordon. I’ll maybe take you up on that if I’m stuck some other time, but I should make it tonight. It’s been good seeing you both again, but I’ll have to run. I hope I meet your husband next time, Renee. He always seems to be on leave the same time as me.’
They went to the door with him, and waved as he walked along the pavement. ‘He’s a nice lad,’ Anne remarked when they went inside. ‘I used to hope . . .’
‘Don’t start that again. I’m a happily married woman.’
‘Are you?’ Anne looked grave when she sat down. ‘Are you truly happy? It sometimes seems to me . . .’
‘I’m truly happy.’ Renee smiled broadly, to reinforce her statement. She would be truly happy, except for one thing.
That night, alone in the double bed, her thoughts flew to Glynn. She hoped he could convince his mother to accept a Scottish daughter-in-law, but, most of all, she prayed that he could view their relationship in perspective from a distance, and realise how much he was endangering their marriage by his peculiar sexual behaviour. Most men could h
ave coped with the situation, why couldn’t Glynn? Jack would have forgiven her and buried the past, if he’d been her husband.
For heaven’s sake, what was she thinking? That was a stupid and dangerous track to be on. It was Glynn Williams she loved, with every fibre of her being, not Jack Thomson.
When Glynn arrived back, the following week, he was in time to meet Renee outside the office at half past five. She ran into his arms, surprised and delighted to find him waiting for her.
‘Why didn’t you let me know the time of your train, darling? I’d have asked off early, and met you at the station. Oh, Glynn, I’m so glad to have you home.’
‘I’m glad to be home, cariad.’ He looked tired after the long, involved journey, but tucked her arm through his.
She snuggled against him while they walked to the bus stop. ‘What about your mother? Is she still against . . . ?’
‘She’s a stubborn old thing, Renee, but I think she’s coming round a little bit.’
‘I hope so.’ It seemed to her that he’d been away for years, but if his mission had been successful, even just the smallest bit, their parting had achieved something.
‘I saw Eiddwen when I was there,’ he said, unexpectedly.
‘Oh.’ Her happiness deflated like a burst balloon. ‘How did you feel about her?’
‘Nothing, my lovely. Absolutely nothing. She’s a very nice girl, but she’s no more than a friend to me now.’
This gave her new heart, and she bubbled inside with the anticipation of being in bed with him again.
Glynn went upstairs while she was helping Anne after tea, and was smoking in one of the rexine chairs, with his legs stretched out, when she joined him.
‘Oh, Glynn, I really missed you.’ She went over and planted a kiss on his brow.
He pulled her on to his knee. ‘I missed you, too, my lovely, more than I thought possible. But I’ve had time to think since I went to Porthcross, and I’m easier in my mind about everything. It’s you I love, as you are, not what you were, and I bitterly regret what I’ve done to you over the past few m—’
She stopped him with another kiss. ‘As long as you love me, darling. That’s all I need to know.’
‘I love you with all my heart,’ he breathed, and she could feel his heart pounding against her breast. Her own heart was pounding, too, so when he whispered, ‘Come to bed,’ she let him lead her through.
‘It’s not eight o’clock yet, what if Mum hears us?’ she murmured as he drew her jumper over her head.
‘She’ll know how much we love each other,’ he said softly.
It was wonderful! It was ecstasy. It was . . . Tuesday! Renee realised it with tremendous relief after their passion was spent. At last their marriage was turning out to be normal. It was worth spending eight lonely, doubting nights to have this at the end.
They made love every night for the rest of the week, and her happiness was unbounded. She could even be glad of Sheila Daun’s broken leg, which had been the cause of Glynn having to go to Wales on his own. On the following Monday evening, Glynn was late home, and his face, when he did appear, told Renee that something was wrong.
‘What’s upset you, darling?’ she asked, as soon as they were alone.
‘Nothing’s upset me,’ he snapped. ‘Can’t a man have some peace in his own . . .’ He stopped and frowned. ‘It’s not my house, of course.’
‘These two rooms are our home,’ she reminded him. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be nosey.’
He bent to take off his boots. ‘I’m sorry, too, for being so touchy. You were right. I’ve had a hell of a day, but I shouldn’t take it out on you.’
‘Do you want to tell me about it? It might help.’
‘Not really, if you don’t mind.’
‘OK.’ Renee knew how she felt herself sometimes, when things went wrong at the office, and probed no further.
Glynn was very quiet all evening, and she felt protective towards him. Poor darling, if only he would confide in her. As soon as they were in bed, he said, without looking at her,
‘I’m not in the mood tonight, Renee. You understand?’
‘Of course I understand, and don’t worry about it.’
He gave her a light kiss which evoked a memory of their first few weeks of married life, and caused a touch of apprehension to stir somewhere deep inside her. No, it couldn’t mean anything. He’d definitely come to terms with that old problem. The following night, his ardour was as fervent as she could have wished, and she forgot the misgivings which had returned to torment her.
It took a few weeks for Renee to realise that Glynn avoided making love to her on Mondays. He’d apparently given up trying to prove that she was his alone on Mondays, and was now afraid to touch her in case he was reviving memories of Fergus Cooper instead of obliterating them. Poor mixed-up Glynn, she thought, but at least the other days, and nights, of the week were happy for them, so she gave no sign that she knew of his fears.
He seemed pleased when Tim Donaldson arrived one Saturday afternoon with his fiance´ e, Moira, showing off the ring she was so proudly wearing.
After Anne and Renee had congratulated them, and said how glad they were that Tim had finally taken the plunge, Glynn said, quietly, ‘I hope you’ll be as completely happy as Renee and I are.’
His wife glanced at him quickly, but he was quite serious about it. His mind must gloss over their one, big stumbling block, she thought, and wished that he could gloss over what had caused it just as easily.
‘We’re getting married on Tim’s next leave,’ Moira was saying. ‘I’ll look for a flat somewhere before then.’
‘There’s no room for us in Moira’s mum’s house,’ Tim told them. ‘Not with Babs and wee Michael there as well.’
‘Well, I hope you’ve better luck than I had,’ Renee said.
‘All the places I looked at had just one tiny room, and that wouldn’t be much use if you wanted to start a family.’
Tim smiled wickedly at a suddenly beetroot-red Moira, then turned to Renee and Glynn again. ‘What about you two? No sign of any addition yet?’
‘Not yet.’ It was Renee’s turn to blush, and she wished that she hadn’t made the remark in the first place. She’d never discussed having a family with Glynn, though. Could that be their salvation?
In bed that night, she led up to the subject cautiously.
‘Tim and Moira are well suited to each other, don’t you think?’
He nodded. ‘Yes, they are, just as we were.’
She hesitated, wondering if his use of the past tense meant anything, but decided that it didn’t. ‘And Babs is lucky having wee Michael. If anything happens to Mike, God forbid, she’d have his son to remember him by.’
‘I suppose that would be a comfort to her, although I don’t imagine she’d really need anything to help her remember.’
‘Glynn, I wish I could have your child.’ It was out, and she watched him anxiously. He seemed to be wrestling with conflicting emotions, and was silent for so long that she laid her hand on his arm. ‘Glynn?’
He looked at her as if he resented her breaking into his thoughts. ‘No, I don’t think it’s a good idea. After the war, maybe, when we’ve got our own house, but not before.’
She saw that it would be useless to argue and, to change the subject, said the first thing that came into her head.
‘Jack Thomson’s coming home on leave again. I forgot to show you his letter, with the excitement about Tim and Moira.’
‘I’ve never met this Jack,’ he said, slowly, reflectively.
‘That’s right, of course. You were at Porthcross when he was here the last time. You’ll like him, he’s really nice.’
He raised his eyebrows at that. ‘Another of your boyfriends, was he? Has he sampled your charms as well?’
‘Glynn Williams! Tha
t was nasty and uncalled-for.’ She swallowed her anger. ‘Jack and I have always been good friends, but that’s all.’
‘I’m sorry, darling, but I’m jealous of all the men you knew before I met you.’
‘You’ve no need to be jealous of anybody, especially not Jack. We’d some good fun together, but it was purely platonic.’
He reached for her then. ‘I love you,’ he said, as if that explained away all his doubts.
Unluckily for Renee, her husband remained jealous of Jack when finally they did meet, although they spent only an hour in each other’s company, because Glynn had been late in coming home – it was another Monday.
Jack shook hands vigorously. ‘I’m very pleased to meet Renee’s husband at long last. You’re a very lucky man, Glynn. She’s a marvellous girl, one of the best.’
Glynn winked at Renee. ‘Yes, she is,’ he said, ‘and I know how lucky I am.’
The subject of their exchange wished that Jack hadn’t passed the remark, but hoped that Glynn would take it as it was meant.
‘Have you found the right girl yet, Jack?’ she asked, smiling to show Glynn that she would be quite happy if he had.
‘Not yet. I’ve come to the conclusion that I must be too hard to please.’ Jack shrugged his shoulders and laughed.
Renee and Glynn stayed downstairs until Jack left, about half past eight, then Glynn said, ‘I’m tired, Renee. I think I’ll go to bed now. You can stay with your mother for a while, if you like, she’ll be better company than I will tonight.’
‘OK.’ She tried to make it sound light-hearted, matter-of-fact, but Anne noticed that she was upset.
‘Is there anything wrong between you two?’ she asked when the man went upstairs.
‘There’s nothing wrong, Mum. He’s tired, that’s all.’ She couldn’t meet her mother’s eyes.
‘It’s just that . . . some days there seems to be a sort of awkwardness there.’
‘Yes, some days,’ the girl admitted. ‘We’ve got our ups and downs just like any other married couple. It’s nearly a year since the wedding, you know.’ A year in which she had been up in the clouds then down in the depths so many times, that it was a miracle she’d survived.
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