by Lizzie Lane
‘Perhaps I could walk or grab a lift. I have heard the others at the camp used to do this.’
Silence prevailed as Charlotte summoned up the courage to take a step that she knew, deep down, could lead to all sorts of complications.
‘There’s no other thing for it. You will have to stay the night.’ She said it quickly, resolutely, leaving herself no time to change her mind.
Although her gaze was fixed on the road ahead, she knew he was looking at her, trying to read her face, to see exactly what she meant.
‘What about your husband? He may not like this.’
‘He’s at a conference. They take up a lot of his life at the moment. It’s all to do with this National Health Service thing the Labour government wants to bring in. The doctors are banding together because they fear they may end up overworked and underpaid.’
‘Too bad,’ said Josef.
‘That you won’t meet him?’
‘No. That the doctors feel threatened by radical ideas that will benefit everyone.’
They lapsed into silence. It was almost tangible, as if the thoughts and desires of each were reaching out to the other. At least, that was what Charlotte wanted to believe.
The door squeaked loudly as it jerked open. She entered the darkened hallway, Josef two steps behind her. The light switch was to her right but she made no attempt to reach for it. If she did switch it on perhaps both Josef and her intentions might disappear like a dream.
‘Charlotte?’ His chest was warm against her back.
He hugged her and kissed the nape of her neck. ‘You will have to lead me to where you want me to be.’ Perhaps it was the accent: his voice thrilled her. She led him to the bedroom.
Guilt was banished by passion. With each caress, each step of arousal, her body took over her mind. Every part of her tingled with sensation. He fondled her breasts, ran his fingers down her spine and caressed her belly. Even before his hand was between her legs, there was no turning back. For the first time in a long while she climaxed and afterwards held him tightly to her, unwilling ever to let him go.
She drove him back to the orphanage the following day. He was strangely quiet. She wanted to ask him whether it was anything to do with last night. Did he regret it? She didn’t think so. Leave it to him, she thought, and that was what she did.
Just before he left the car he rummaged in his right hand pocket and brought out a piece of paper and unfolded it. It looked as though it had been ripped from a much larger piece.
‘Corporal Grant’s address,’ he said emphatically. ‘You must write to him.’
They were too close to prying eyes to kiss, so instead she watched him walk away and wondered why he had waited until now to give it to her.
It was the weekend immediately after the wedding and Colin and Edna were settled in the house. Billy was outside knocking like crazy upon the door. Colin opened it, Edna right behind him.
‘I’ve got it all,’ said Billy, gesturing at the handcart on which were stacked all the remaining items from Edna’s parents’ house. ‘Like you said, Edna, yer ma was off shopping and only yer old man was there. He was helpful enough about you having yer stuff but shaking in his shoes about what yer old lady would say when she got back and found you weren’t living with them after all.’
Edna shivered as she contemplated the storm that was to come.
Colin squeezed her hand and turned to Billy. ‘Nice of you to push that old cart around here in those nice clothes.’
Smiling broadly, Colin gave Edna’s waist a quick nudge and pointed to the two young adolescents sat next to the wheels.
‘Take the Mick if you like,’ said Billy, ‘But I had to be there just to make sure they pushed it properly,’ he said with a grin.
Once the two lads had unloaded and been paid half a crown each for their labour, Edna offered Billy a brew.
Billy glanced swiftly at his wristwatch and Edna did too. It looked German and had probably been traded with some soldier lately demobbed. ‘I don’t think so, Edna my love. I’ll be seeing you.’ He turned away immediately, and was marching off down the street, shouting at the two lads to push quicker before they got a clout from him and he got a load of abuse from Edna’s mother.
Edna exchanged looks with Colin as Billy marched swiftly away.
‘You know what this means,’ said Colin. ‘Your mother’s on her way!’
Edna felt her face freeze. For the rest of the day she was all at sixes and sevens.
It was mid-afternoon when the expected storm arrived. She wore a pinched expression, had her hat pulled down firmly on her head and her handbag tight against her body. Like a tame shadow, Edna’s father limped quietly behind.
‘Come on in,’ Colin said brightly. ‘You’re quite welcome.’ Edna stood behind him and the wheelchair.
Mrs Burbage glowered. ‘Well, that’s a nice way to treat your mother!’
‘That ain’t right? Why’s that then?’ Colin’s face was a picture of innocence. ‘You’re our first visitors,’ he lied. ‘You’re the first to know. Stepped into this a bit lucky, didn’t we just. Straight back from our honeymoon and into this. Couldn’t be better.’ He didn’t elaborate on the fact that they’d only been to Weston-super-Mare for one day. ‘So there was no point in going back to you first,’ he went on blithely, ‘and anyway, as you can see, I’ve got room to move and to work in this place. I can honestly say I’ll be able to keep your daughter in the style to which she’s accustomed. Ain’t that right, Edna?’
He took hold of her hand and clasped it tightly to his shoulder.
Perhaps Colin’s presence gave her strength. For the first time in her life Edna found herself holding her mother’s gaze. ‘Would you like some tea and cake while you’re here?’ she asked, her voice trembling slightly.
Her mother said she would take tea.
The conversation remained stilted, Edna’s parents stiff. The worst part of the visit was showing them around the place and, worst of all, her mother helping her wash up while Colin showed her father his tools and the toys he’d made so far.
‘At least you’re married,’ her mother said. ‘I suppose that’s something to be grateful for. But I would have liked to know direct that you had a place of your own and not have some errand boy tell me.’
‘I thought dad told you?’
‘Don’t be cheeky. You know I don’t mean your father. Them barrow boys; that’s who I mean.’
‘I’m lucky to have a house. There’s plenty that have only got a couple of rooms or only one room,’ said Edna. Having the house made her feel happy. It even made her feel more at ease with her mother than she had at any time in her life. But the feeling didn’t last.
‘Yes, you are lucky. You threw your respectability aside when you had a black man’s baby. It was a good job Colin came back like he did. Losing his legs didn’t give him much choice and you didn’t have much either.’
As her mother marched off back into the shop, Edna slumped against the sink. All her courage seeped away. She wanted to cry but she also wanted to scream. Up until her parents’ visit she had really felt that they were rebuilding their lives. A house, the start of a business and her continuing to work until Colin, his work and his pension, could keep them. She’d also been thinking a lot about Sherman and how and when to tell Colin. Now her mother had made her feel utterly shameful. She had made it plain that no other man would have wanted her anyway.
Chapter Fourteen
DAMAGE DONE TO Temple Meads Railway Station during the blitz was being repaired and the smell of new paint mixed with that of coal tar. Along with the rest of the city, the pride of the Great Western Railway was being rebuilt.
Charlotte wore a blue dress sprinkled with white daisies. Her hat was white and matched her peep-toe shoes. Once she’d bought her platform ticket she raced down the under pass and up the steps to platform 5. Janet and Geoffrey had left their respective schools for the August holidays and had met up at Salisbury station. They would both
be on the same train.
The train was late. Charlotte eyed her watch then glanced towards the cafeteria. Don’t bother, she told herself. The tea will be weaker, the bread greyer and the butter non-existent. Rationing had got worse not better.
The train pulled into the station, steam growling from beneath the iron wheels and hissing from valves beneath the boiler.
Her heart began to pound. She was looking forward to seeing her children again. This was going to be the best August ever. There was every chance that David would agree to the children not having to go back to school. They could get day places again locally. It would be so much better for everyone, especially for Janet. The school had forgiven her for running away and David had never found out.
Charlotte sucked in her breath when she saw Janet. She looked slimmer, taller, and there was a new confidence about her. Geoffrey seemed full of bounce. She kissed them both.
‘Are we going to Devon?’ asked Geoffrey.
Charlotte was amazed and slightly hurt that he hadn’t thrown his arms around her. Just his age, she told herself.
Janet seemed more self-contained and Charlotte was worried. Her children had been away only a short time, but in that time they’d grown away from her. Was this what David had meant when he’d said that going away would do them good? ‘Are you looking forward to going to Devon, Janet?’ she asked brightly, determined to raise their spirits as much as she could.
‘I don’t mind.’ She continued to stare out of the open car window at the people walking by, men in shirtsleeves, women in summer dresses, pushing prams or carrying shopping.
Dust rose from bombsites presently being cleared. Eventually new buildings would rise from the ashes of the old. But it would take a long time. Traders had set up shop from handbarrows or old vans on those sites that had been cleared. One particular van caught Charlotte’s eye. A man in a smart suit stood at the back of it shouting out prices, his arms gesticulating. Billy Hills! Like a marionette he didn’t stop moving, wooden aeroplane in one hand, toy car in the other. She opened her window a little wider and stopped.
‘Buy now, ladies. I know we’re only in August, but don’t leave it till November to buy for Christmas. Make sure you’ve got more than an orange an’ an apple in the little chap’s stocking this year. Make sure you’ve got more than that in the old man’s stocking though, won’t ya?’ He winked as he said it and a titter of restrained amusement ran through the crowd. Most were women.
She was just wondering whether to drive on or get out and say hello, when a sleek Bentley pulled up and a large man got out. The crowd divided as he pushed his way through. ‘I want a word with you,’ she heard him say to Billy.
‘Are we going home?’ Geoffrey grumbled.
Charlotte wound the window down further and strained to hear.
‘Just a minute.’
Their conversation was none too clear.
Afraid that Billy was about to find himself in trouble, Charlotte got out, determined to put in a good word no matter what.
The man crooked his finger and Billy bent low.
‘I’ll take these,’ said the man and immediately took the wooden toys from Billy’s hands.
Not at all sure what she would say or what she could do, Charlotte followed the path cleared by the man from the Bentley, her head high and her jaw jutting firmly. ‘Billy! I was just passing by. We met at Edna’s wedding. Remember?’
Both men stared at her, Billy with a smile of recognition and the other man with a warning frown.
‘Am I interrupting something?’ she said looking from one man to the other and back again.
‘No. Not at all. Mrs Hennessey-White, ain’t it?’ said Billy, his smile widening. ‘Nice to meet you again.’
He tipped his hat slightly. The man from the Bentley followed suit but in a far more formal fashion. He knew a lady when he saw one.
Charlotte looked meaningfully at the big man, fully expecting him to introduce himself or depart. He ignored her and kept his gaze fixed on Billy.
‘My name’s Lewis. I want to see you at 3.30 tomorrow afternoon. You know the address, don’t you?’
Billy nodded. With one toy tucked under his arm, the other dangling from his hand, the man departed. Billy’s eyes followed him all the way back to the sleek machine he’d arrived in.
‘Worth a few bob that,’ he said and whistled low.
Charlotte wondered about Billy. Good-hearted he might be, but she wasn’t entirely sure he was honest. Billy was doing very nicely and had probably been trading on the black market all the way through the war.
‘He seemed very insistent on taking Colin’s toys,’ Charlotte said, emphasising the fact that the toys were Colin’s.
‘Yeah. Certainly got a bee in ’is bonnet about them,’ said Billy. He grinned and looked suddenly bashful. ‘Seen anything of that Polly then?’
Charlotte considered. ‘Not since the wedding. Have you?’
He shook his head a little sadly, then sighed and looked away. ‘Oh well. Better get on. Got to make some butter to spread on me bread! Ladies and gentlemen,’ he shouted as he climbed back onto the back of the van. ‘Do I ’ave some bargains for you. Spam! Spam at knock-down prices.’
Charlotte got back into the car. Whatever Billy was up to with the big man and the toys, she hoped Colin wouldn’t be the loser for it. She put it from her mind. Her children were home and they would have a lovely summer holiday together.
‘I shan’t be coming to Devon with you,’ said David that evening at dinner. ‘I’m busy at the practice and also have to be in London for some of the time.’
‘I’d like to go to London,’ said Janet. ‘I hear you can still get decent clothes there if you know where to look.’
Charlotte smiled. Janet had sensed her father was in a good mood.
‘You are going to Devon with your mother and brother, Janet. I am going to London!’
Charlotte noted Janet’s crestfallen expression. ‘We shall go shopping in Brixham,’ she said.
‘I suppose it will have to do,’ said Janet and sighed.
‘I’m not going shopping. I shall play with my boat. Or swim. Or play cricket. Anything but go shopping,’ said Geoffrey.
Even David managed a forced smile.
Charlotte felt happier that night than she had for a long time. Perhaps things with David really were getting better. They were like a family again. But at the back of her mind there was Josef and a wonderful night when the only person to benefit from her action was herself.
Later she put on her favourite nightdress, a satin, biascut affair that was formed around the bust and edged with Nottingham lace.
As David used the bathroom in the next room along the landing, she brushed her hair and dabbed perfume behind her ears. I don’t look like a long-married woman, she thought to herself as she studied her reflection. There are a few lines, but not enough to worry about.
Thinking about wrinkles made her study the grey eyes that looked back out at her. They sparkled. Perhaps it was the lights. She looked at the room beyond her reflection. The bedside lights were on. The bedclothes were spread neat and tidy over the matrimonial bed. Yet Charlotte wasn’t seeing them. For a brief moment, she saw herself with Josef’s naked arms entwined around her shoulders, his mouth on hers. Her thoughts left her tingling as a hot flush seeped from her face to her neck.
Why had she done it? All through the war she’d been faithful to her absent husband. Many had not been. Why had she left it until now?
She hadn’t seen Josef alone for over a month. Unless it was a trustee meeting, she only delivered the baby clothes on a Saturday afternoon with Edna. She’d told herself it was best that way. And Edna was always desperate to come. So far Charlotte had not spoken to Edna about Sherman. She had her own problems and they were in her own life, in her own bedroom.
Again she fixed her eyes on the bed and shivered with pleasure. The memory of what she had done would be there each time she eyed the green flowers that formed
the centre of the satin-covered eiderdown. And each time she slid between the crisp cotton sheets she would feel his legs entwining with hers.
David entered. The vision melted. She forced herself to be cheerful and hoped her brightness did not seem brittle. ‘Isn’t it wonderful to have the children home, David?’ At the same time she nervously dabbed more perfume behind her ears.
He grunted and pulled back the bedclothes.
Charlotte turned on her stool to face him. ‘They miss us you know. Especially you, darling. I mean, you’ve been away so long,’ she added hurriedly.
He sat on the side of the bed and took off his watch. ‘I suppose so.’ He looked tired. She hoped he was. Intercourse with him remained unattractive.
‘I would like them at home again,’ she blurted. ‘Now that you’re so much better …’
She froze. Judging by his expression it was the worst thing she could have said. ‘Are you saying I’ve been ill?’
He got up and walked towards her, stood between her and the bed, her and the vision of a different man, a different time.
‘It’s the war!’ She said it quickly as if it would be enough to placate him.
Nerves taut, head erect, she sat on the stool, waiting for the blow, the slap to the face or the head. It still happened – occasionally.
‘Get to bed, woman!’
Obedience was easy if it meant the blow wouldn’t come. She got up and walked to the bed. He pushed her onto the eiderdown before she had a chance to pull back the bedclothes.
She turned her face away from him, unable to stomach the look in his eyes, the roughness of his hands.
Her mind screamed.
Why is he doing this?
She had told herself he was better, that the children could come home and things would be fine. Now she wasn’t so sure. The soft satin she adored was ripped away from her body. When would the nightmare end? She told herself it would, that there was no point in telling anyone about it. It would pass. There was no need for anyone else to know. It was just the war and he was sure to get better in time.