Tomorrow Brings Sorrow

by Mary Wood

  ‘She’ll not expect anything. You’ve given her a bit of excitement. She’ll live off this tale for a long time, bless her. Oh, here’s your man.’

  Richard stood in the doorway. Her heart came into her throat at the sight of him. Pale and drawn, he looked half the man she’d said goodbye to when he left for Biggin Hill just a few weeks ago. ‘Eeh, Richard.’

  ‘Don’t cry, love. Everything is all right. You – we have a lovely little girl.’

  ‘Aye, she’s bonny. Just look at her. She has Aunt Megan’s hair, all red and curly. Oh, Richard, I’m sorry, I—’

  ‘Don’t, darling. It does no good to dwell on it all. You’ve made such progress.’

  ‘I know. But I think it’s that progress that’s letting me cry – feel even, if you can understand that? Come and see babby. You’ll see the likeness.’

  ‘She’s beautiful. And yes, she does look like my lovely sister. I’ll always take care of her, of both of you. I feel a surge of love for her.’

  ‘Oh, I’m glad, Richard. And you calling her ours an’ all, that warmed me heart. Thou knows, I think your mam will see your grandma Bridie in her, as well as Megan. As from what I can remember, they say as your granna had red hair and blue eyes. Just look, our babby’s eyes are the bluest blue.’

  ‘They are. Ha! I’m sure she winked at me.’

  ‘Eeh, Richard, you daft ha’p’orth.’

  A silence fell between them, as all that had happened seemed to create a gulf, then Richard stepped forward and took her hand. ‘I was going to ask you in a more romantic setting than this, but, Sarah – my love, my life – would you marry me?’

  Her heart felt as though it would burst. With tears soaking her cheeks, she nodded her head.

  39

  Theresa

  Another Girl

  The violence of the pain tensed Theresa’s whole body and her scream echoed in her own ears. Terence stood looking down at her, his face a mask of shock and horror. ‘What shall I do, old thing?’

  It came to her to tell him to bugger off, but his concern for her stopped her. This was something she had to do on her own. She’d prepared herself mentally, knowing she had to be strong. Her rejection of the child had taken her a whole nine months to perfect, and this was the most telling time for her. Soon her baby would be here: a living, breathing being coming from her. Her baby. No! I mustn’t think of it as my baby. I must find the hate and the repulsion, or I will be lost. I must think of it as nothing but a bastard, begotten of a bastard of the first order! Hate is the only emotion that will get me through this.

  ‘Just mop my brow and be here for me, Terence. I – I . . . Oh God, aargh!’

  ‘Actually, I think you should leave now, sir. Go for a walk or something. It will all be over in no time.’ The doctor moved forward, his tray of instruments gleaming in the sunlight filtering through the window as he placed it down on the table next to the bed. ‘Nurse, is everything ready?’

  As the doctor and nurse busied themselves, Terence left the room. Theresa saw him glance back at her, his look one of deep love. Once this bloody war is done, and the part I intend playing is done, we’ll find a way to be together. Nothing can stop that.

  ‘How is she?’

  Terence thought his father had shrunk in stature. This had been a lot for him to handle, and keeping such a massive secret from their mother hadn’t sat well with him. ‘Oh, you know Theresa. She’s making sure we all know what she’s going through, but she will come out with flying colours. Is everything ready, Pater?’

  ‘Yes. I have everything in place.’

  ‘Your plan is excellent. I have read up on these things, and it is not uncommon for a mother to reject her baby, so the staff here – though they might be shocked – will know it is something that happens. And coupled with the story of Theresa’s supposed husband’s death, just before she came here, they will find it plausible. Yes, I think we are home and dry. Naturally we would want to take her home to convalesce and to take care of her baby. Yes, I think everything will go smoothly without anyone being the wiser.’

  ‘There is just one thing I would like to change: I thought to get the baby cared for near to us. I thought then we could keep an eye on its welfare?’

  ‘No, Pater.’

  ‘I know. That was silly of me, and I realize it now, but thought I’d test the idea out on you, since I haven’t actually made any changes. It feels wrong, but I suppose it will be best to cut all ties. I can’t bear, though, to think of the child not having the best we can provide.’

  ‘You’ve made provisions for its future, haven’t you?’

  ‘Yes, and in the end I decided to approach a convent in Glasgow.’

  ‘So near? What if someone sees you and realizes?’

  ‘That’s very unlikely. I didn’t know what else to do. I was worried about taking the child on a journey on my own, and couldn’t involve anyone else. The nuns understood my distress and the need for haste in the safe disposal of the child, once I told them what had happened to my daughter – the rape and everything – and how ill her mother is. In any case, if someone from here realizes, what can they do about it? As it turns out, what the nuns will arrange is ideal. It appears they have ties with an Irish convent that links up with women all over the world who cannot have babies. They tell me there will be no problem in making sure the child goes to a good home. I have made provisions for a regular donation to both convents.’

  ‘That was a big sigh, Pater. This isn’t easy for you, I know, but—’ A scream reverberated off the walls around Terence and stopped him in his tracks. ‘Oh, dear, I never realized it was—’

  ‘Come on, old thing. Women can cope with it. They just have to let us know, that’s all. Let’s go for a walk. Get ourselves out of earshot and out of the way.’

  Though his father said this in a jovial way, Terence knew it was far from what he was feeling. His eyes showed his anguish.

  ‘Pater, it isn’t going to be easy parting with one of our own.’

  ‘I know, my son. But then what choice do we have? It would kill your mother, and besides, we can’t have Theresa’s chances of finding happiness blighted any more than they already are. Speaking of which, I have news on the divorce papers. They are all ready for her to sign, at last. And from what the solicitor told me, it seems the settlement is going to be a very generous one. My poor darling Theresa. She has been through so much.’

  Before them stretched endless countryside, dramatic in its backdrop of hills and mountains. The cap of snow on each hill glistened in the hot sun, giving it a touch of magic and yet realism too, as it told of how cold it must be at that altitude.

  Terence found he couldn’t speak. The beauty surrounding him compounded his protective feelings towards this soon-to-be child of Theresa’s, almost as if he was the father and his child was to be wrenched from him.

  ‘Well, my boy, the war keeps trundling on. Many a good man lost . . .’

  This from his father, after a period of silence, surprised Terence. He’d wanted to keep his thoughts on Theresa, not talk of the war. ‘Pater, I – I’m sorry, I know you would rather I was one of them.’

  ‘No, no, my boy. I wouldn’t have you joining them. Of course I could have come up to scratch and dealt with the daily fear we would have felt for you, but your mother couldn’t. And you are doing a very good job helping to feed the nation. It has to be done.’

  ‘Pater – well, there is something you should know. Theresa has plans. I – I haven’t been able to dissuade her . . .’

  Shock at what he revealed had his father searching for and finding somewhere to sit. Perched now on a tree stump, he looked up, aghast. ‘Theresa?’

  ‘Yes, she has been on about it for weeks now. I thought it would pass, but no. She’s even written to Derwent. You remember him? He’s an older brother of Royston Smith who was in my set. Derwent Smith took a shine to Theresa when we attended a party at their home. Theresa went out with him a few times.’

  ‘
Of course, I know the family well. But why did Theresa contact him?’

  ‘He’s working at the War Office. It appears he has just the job for her.’

  ‘What? Good God! And you didn’t think to inform me of this before?’

  ‘I told you, Pater, I thought I could spare you this. I’ve tried to change her mind, but Derwent has only fired her up even more.’

  ‘How? What has he told her?’

  ‘It seems there is a need for people with the knowledge Theresa has – her language skills and her familiarity with Europe, especially France.’

  ‘No! No, she can’t – not after the lengths we are going to, to cover all of this up and protect her and your mother. She cannot, and I will not allow it.’

  ‘I don’t think we can stop her, Pater. The work is vital to the war. Theresa wants to do her bit and—’

  ‘I will bloody stop her. I’ll keep her a prisoner, if I have to.’

  ‘Pater!’

  ‘Oh God, Terence, why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘Pater, there is nothing to be served by blaming me. I did what I could. I honestly thought I could dissuade her, but, well—’

  ‘Well what? What possible excuse can you come up with this time?’

  His father’s look withered Terence. His words cut deeply into him and showed him the truth. Whatever his father said to reassure him that he’d done the right thing to get out of going to war, Terence suspected that, inside, his father was ashamed of him. Guilty about him even, when it came to dealing with his friends, men whose sons were serving and losing their lives. But he couldn’t be something he was not, and he had put everything into his work since the war had become a reality. ‘It isn’t an excuse, Pater, just an observation. I think the thought of parting with her child is cutting Theresa to shreds and, as such, has led to her searching for something to give an edge to her life, to assuage what she envisages the pain will be. Putting herself in danger and being responsible for the safety of others will serve to give her no time to think of anything else.’

  ‘And having come to this conclusion, you saw fit not to discuss it with me?’

  ‘Will you always be ready to think the worst of me?’ Terence’s anger surprised him as it boiled up against this adored man, whom he’d never been able to fully please. ‘I cannot be something you want me to be, Pater. I am what I am. I am no different from millions of others. If the circumstances had been that I was forced to go to war, I would have gone and conducted myself just as they are: afraid, but doing what was required of me. I had a way out and I took it, but that way out suited you as much as it suited me. Theresa is looking for her way out, and if this is it, then you have to allow it. We will find a way of protecting Mater, but maybe your constant stressing of the need to protect her isn’t what she needs, either. Maybe Theresa and I are the people we are because of it. Maybe Mater could have weathered the storm by now, but your constant ministrations to her have kept her shielded and unable to cope!’

  If he’d thought his father was shocked before, it was nothing to his reaction now. His face paled to the colour of the snow-tipped mountains. His eyes rounded to reveal the whites bordering the irises. ‘Terence, I – I don’t know what to say—’

  ‘No, neither do I.’ He turned away, and the world around him blurred. Terence blinked, allowing the tears to flow and his heart to cry, for he was losing a lot today. His whole life. Because today he’d lost something of his father, and today marked Theresa’s freedom to go her own way; but it also marked his loss of the child he’d watched grow in her womb, whom he had stroked and patted, talked to and joked about. A child who had become real to him – and, yes, had become his.

  A cry of the kind that could only be made by a baby filtered down the stairs when they returned to the house. Terence felt joy surge through him. His father had hardly spoken to him in the last hour or so – the only effort had been an attempt at an apology, something about being under a lot of strain. But Terence hadn’t felt inclined to let him off the hook, and so the uncomfortable feeling between them had prevailed.

  ‘Well, Pater, the next generation has made its entrance.’

  ‘Don’t talk of the child like that. We must never acknowledge it. We can’t.’

  ‘I know, but you must acknowledge Theresa’s heartbreak concerning it. She will never admit to it and will behave as if she can’t bear the child near her, but I know that deep down she feels differently. If you realize that, then you will be able to understand her motives for the other business she is planning, and deal with it in a way that limits the damage to Mater.’

  The nurse swept into the room, stopping all further attempts to get through to his father. ‘There you both are! You are a grandfather, sir. It’s a bonny wee lass. Will you come up to see them?’

  ‘Yes, thank you, Nurse.’ As they went up the stairs, Terence held his breath. Please let Theresa be playing her part of being repulsed by the baby. They couldn’t deal with any more complications at this stage.

  As planned, she had refused to hold the child.

  ‘Don’t worry about it, sir. Och, many women take like that at first. It wears off the moment the child is put to their breast.’

  ‘That thing is not coming anywhere near me, so you can forget that stupid notion, Doctor. I told the nurse to fetch milk from a wet nurse the moment the baby was born. I hope she is carrying out my wishes?’

  ‘Aye, it’s done – don’t carry on, now. Haven’t I told you not to be upsetting yourself, lassie?’

  The doctor looked alarmed. Terence went to speak, but his father stepped in. ‘It has all been too much for her. You know she was widowed? Well, this is the last straw, I expect.’

  ‘Pater, take me home. Please take me home.’

  ‘There, you see. Everything runs its course. I had to bring her up here, as she couldn’t bear to be at home, with so many memories surrounding her. Now she is begging me to take her back there. Yes, my darling daughter, don’t upset yourself. Mother will be waiting for you. She will take care of you both. The nursery is ready, and nanny is in place.’

  God, how could his father lie so convincingly? Terence watched as Theresa put out her arms to their father, tears streaming down her face. Only he knew they were for real – not because she didn’t want her child, but because she did. Walking over to the crib, he peeped inside. A tiny body wriggled, and a hand peeped out from under the swaddling that held her tight. He put out his finger, and her finger curled around his. His heart constricted. The tiny bundle needed them – her family – but there was nothing he could do. Her head moved to one side, looking away from him. It shocked him to see that she had red hair, tightly curled to her head. When she looked back at him, her eyes looked the palest blue, almost like a blind person’s.

  Megan, Jack’s late wife and mother of Billy, came to mind. The child was the image of her. Terence didn’t want a constant reminder of Megan, or what happened to her, in his life. Nor did he want her son’s bastard growing up with them. But even as he thought this, he knew he’d give anything to have it made possible that she could.

  40

  Theresa & Terence

  Their Paths Chosen

  Three months had passed. Some of the time the pain of loss had visited Theresa, but throwing herself wholeheartedly into her new venture, her army life, had helped.

  ‘You have come through your basic training with the highest praise, Theresa. That is good. Very well done. Now, I am in a position to suggest you as a recruit, but what I am going to tell you is highly confidential. You will tell no one, not even your family. Is that understood?’

  ‘Yes, Derwent. You know you don’t have to ask that!’

  ‘There is a new organization called the Special Operations Executive, known as SOE. I have spoken to the senior recruitment staff there and they are very interested in you. I could have done so earlier, but, well, to be honest, Theresa, I wanted to be sure of your commitment and ability. I know that sounds disloyal of me, as we have been friends
for a long time.’

  ‘I understand. I haven’t exactly shown any inclination to do anything other than be a society girl. Things change, though, and I have changed. I have had to weather a few storms that I can never tell anyone of, and they have given me a stronger core. I know now that I am up to this special work, whatever it is.’

  ‘Yes, I believe you are. I had to let you go into the army and see how you fared, to check that out, but the reports I have received are of someone with spirit, courage and tenacity. Put those together with your knowledge of the language and the country of France, and Hugh Dalton, the political head of SOE, agrees with me that you could prove invaluable to us.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘No, don’t thank me. The work is highly dangerous. You will work behind enemy lines with the Resistance. You will be a key figure in communications and in the disruption of the Germans’ operations. You could be killed at any time or . . . Look, I’m going to lay this on the line: capture is a real possibility, as are torture and execution. I believe our lot issue a pill.’

  ‘Derwent, I understand. I am ready.’

  ‘Oh, Theresa . . .’

  ‘No, Derwent. You know we have been to that place, and you know I don’t have feelings for you in that way. You married Felicity and, as I understand it, you are happy. Don’t spoil that for some imagined excitement with me. I can assure you, I have nothing to give.’

  ‘Well, talk about putting a man down.’

  ‘I know no other way. I have to be straight with you.’

  ‘Yes, of course. I shouldn’t have spoken. Sorry. Look, are you all right? There seems something different about you. You’ve changed.’

  ‘War changes everyone.’

  As she walked along the corridor some ten minutes later, Theresa’s boots squeaked on the polished linoleum. Her future was almost set but for the interview with the senior staff of SOE in some flat or other in Baker Street. Her heart clanged with the emotions Derwent’s words had evoked. Changed! My God, if he only knew how much.