by Linda Sole
He rubbed it ruefully and admitted that it was very sore. ‘I missed my axe,’ he said, ‘but I’ve seen cheap doors like that before and knew I could break it with my own force. And I didn’t want you risking your life in there . . .’ His voice had gone a bit croaky. ‘You know I care about you, Emily.’
‘Yes, of course,’ she said, very conscious that her landlady wasn’t far away. ‘Wait just a minute while I get my coat. We’ll go somewhere and have a coffee if you have time?’
‘I’ll make time.’
Emily nodded and ran upstairs, grabbing her coat, scarf and bag, then went down to join him in the hall. It was cold out but brighter, the damp mist that had hung over the city for a while having cleared.
Terry looked at her but neither of them spoke for a few moments.
‘You were wonderful,’ Emily said, after a short silence. ‘People were saying how brave you were last night after you’d gone in the ambulance.’
‘It’s my job,’ he said. ‘I wasn’t sure I would ever be able to do it again, and what happened last night was as much for me as anyone else. I had something to prove to myself. I’m going to ask them to put me back on regular service as soon as my treatment is finished.’
‘If that’s what you want, then I’m glad for you.’ She understood that the incident that had killed his friend had lingered in his mind, and also that the rescue of the child had somehow helped him.
‘Let’s go in here,’ Terry said, choosing a quiet hotel rather than a busy café. ‘I know this place. There’s a comfortable lounge where we can sit and have coffee and biscuits. We can talk there – and we do need to talk, don’t we, Emily?’
She hesitated, looking into his eyes for a moment before saying, ‘Yes, we should talk, Terry.’
They went inside the old-fashioned, discreet hotel. The lounge was panelled in mellowed oak with soft carpets, comfortable if shabby armchairs and little tables, and there were only two tables occupied. Terry led her to a secluded corner, ordering their coffee from a maid in a black dress and white apron.
‘It’s stuck in the Edwardian era, but it’s decent,’ he told Emily with a grin. ‘At least we shan’t be overheard here and we don’t need to shout at each other.’
‘It’s comfortable and quiet,’ she replied. ‘You said we should talk and I agree but – nothing has changed. We’re friends, good friends – but I’m married.’
‘But you’re not happy, are you?’
Emily thought about her marriage. She had gone into it hastily, mainly because Simon had been so desperate. It was true that she wasn’t happy. She had been feeling uneasy about things for a while, though she hadn’t acknowledged it to herself. Simon’s behaviour on his last leave had aroused small doubts she’d suppressed, but sitting here with Terry she was forced to admit they were there at the back of her mind. She had a suspicion that she might have made a mistake, yet even if that were true, there was nothing she could do about it.
‘No, not really,’ she admitted, after a moment or two. ‘I care about Simon, but I . . . I’m not sure he really loves me.’
Terry nodded. ‘I knew something was wrong. I could sense it.’
‘It may just be the war,’ Emily said. ‘I don’t honestly know. Simon has moods. Sometimes we’re good together and then . . . Well, he hasn’t written to me properly since the last time we were together. I’ve had a couple of brief postcards. I thought he was going to get leave before this, but he hasn’t written to tell me anything.’
‘A lot of men aren’t good at writing letters. It can’t just be that, Emily?’
‘No, it isn’t.’ She shook her head over her own thoughts. ‘It sounds so stupid when you say it out loud . . .’
‘Nothing you could say would sound stupid to me.’
‘I think . . .’ She hesitated again, then went on as he smiled at her. ‘I think Simon married me because his father wants an heir for his estate.’
Terry stared at her in silence for a moment, then nodded. ‘It’s the way of people like that, to marry for the sake of a son to carry on the name. But what gave you that idea, Emily? Why do you think Simon doesn’t love you?’
‘He says he does, but somehow I have started to doubt it.’ She wrinkled her brow as she tried to put her thoughts clearly. She couldn’t tell him the intimate details of her life – that Simon only seemed to be able to make love to her if he made a game of it, the feeling she had that he didn’t really want her – that he was doing his duty as a husband. ‘I can’t explain but things aren’t right . . . between us in that way . . .’ she bit her lip, her soft hair falling across her face.
‘I see . . .’ Terry looked thoughtful. ‘He must be an idiot if he doesn’t know how lucky he is.’
Emily laughed. There was no doubting that Terry thought she was special and the look in his eyes made her feel much better.
‘It isn’t just that, it’s other things – like not bothering to write or phone. Little things I can’t explain. I don’t even know why I feel this way myself. Frances told me that Marcus rings her all the time, and he comes home more often. I don’t understand why Simon can’t, unless he doesn’t want to.’ She shook her head, brushing her hair back from her face. ‘Or am I being selfish? Asking too much? Perhaps it is me . . . I’ve let him down . . .’
‘I don’t think so.’ Terry reached for her hand and held it. ‘I don’t believe it is your fault.’
‘I hadn’t realized how I truly felt until this moment. Talking to you . . .’ She shook her head. ‘I shouldn’t even be doing it . . . but you are right, I am not happy.’
‘So what are you going to do about it, Emily?’
‘What can I do?’ She read the answer in his eyes and withdrew her hand. ‘No, I couldn’t. It would be too awful of me. I don’t have any real reasons for a divorce, Terry. I shouldn’t have married Simon in such a rush. I know that now. If I’d waited for a while, until we knew each other better, it might have been different.’ In normal times she would probably never have married him. She admitted it to herself for the first time.
‘Why not – if he doesn’t love you?’
Emily looked down at her hands. She wasn’t wearing her rings. She seldom wore them these days, because she hardly felt married at all. Her relationship with Simon wasn’t a normal one, and she couldn’t deny that to Terry. She couldn’t deny the strong attraction between them, the feeling that he might have been the one for her if she had waited and not given into Simon’s persuasion. She shut the thought out at once, but it wouldn’t stay shut out. Terry was brave and strong and she really liked him. Perhaps she might have found happiness if she’d married him – only she hadn’t and she was stuck with the consequences.
‘I’m married, Terry. People I know don’t get divorced very often. I would have to have a very good reason to ask Simon to let me go.’
‘You know I love you. I think you love me.’
‘I think I could,’ Emily said, not wanting to admit that she was already halfway there, ‘but that isn’t a reason to break my marriage vows. You know it isn’t. You can’t just walk off and leave someone because you decide you’re not satisfied.’
‘So you’re going to carry on knowing that you don’t love him and he doesn’t love you? One of these times you’ll fall for a child and then you will be really trapped. Wake up, Emily. You should make the break now while you can!’
She stared at him helplessly as he leaned towards her, kissing her softly on the lips just as their waitress returned with the tray of coffee. The woman didn’t turn a hair as she deposited the tray, turned, and left them to serve themselves.
‘I have to think about it,’ Emily said, tears hovering. ‘I’m not sure. It might just be me being selfish.’
‘I don’t think you could ever be that. Listen to me, Emily. It isn’t just for my sake that I’m telling you to face the facts,’ Terry said. ‘I want to marry you, but I’m not asking you to leave him and marry me just like that. I think you will be very unhappy on
e day if you don’t, that’s all.’
‘Yes, I think you may be right,’ she agreed. ‘I wish I’d listened to Daniel. He told me to wait . . . and yet he went and did the same thing himself just before he was posted. He and Alice were married by special licence just as we were.’
‘Perhaps it was right for them. It often is. If you are in love it’s natural to want to be together.’
‘I thought I loved Simon. When I’m with him . . .’ Emily sighed. ‘Don’t push me on this, Terry. I can’t just walk away like that. I have to see Simon again, talk to him.’
Terry nodded, and picked up the coffee pot, poured them each a cup. She watched his hands imagining them on her body, touching her. She wasn’t wrong about Simon feeling it his duty to make love to her. He had never once looked at her in the hot, hungry way Terry did! She felt the regret wash over her – regret for what might have been.
‘I will talk to Simon,’ she said, ‘but I’m making no promises.’
‘I haven’t asked for any.’
‘No,’ she said. ‘You haven’t . . .’
After she’d left Terry, Emily went window shopping in town, then bought herself a much-needed pair of shoes for work. She’d been saving her coupons for them but as she caught the bus that would take her back to her lodgings, the pleasure of the purchase was marred by the conversation with Terry. Was she right to blame Simon for her dissatisfaction with their marriage – or was she making something out of nothing? Perhaps it was her who was wrong? Perhaps it was because she was attracted to Terry?
Emily didn’t like that thought. It gave her a nasty taste in the mouth and made her feel worthless. What sort of person would have these kinds of thoughts when her brave husband was fighting for his country?
She didn’t like herself much at that moment. She had wanted Terry to kiss her again, and she’d wanted to tell him that she would leave Simon to be with him. Her conscience had prevented her from saying it, but that didn’t stop her thinking.
She went upstairs and changed into her working clothes. It was better at work; she didn’t have time to think – and although she’d told Terry she needed time to think, it was the last thing she wanted to do. When she came down, her landlady was answering the telephone.
‘Ah, here she is – just a moment,’ she said, and held it out to Emily. ‘It’s for you . . .’
‘Thank you.’ Emily took it, her brows raised, but the woman shook her head and walked back into the kitchen. ‘Hello, Emily Searles – I mean Emily Vane speaking.’
‘Emily, my dear,’ the voice said, and it was Amelia’s. From the concern and huskiness of it Emily knew at once that something was wrong and her throat caught. ‘I am so very sorry to tell you but Simon has been hurt.’
Emily could hardly speak for a moment. ‘Is he . . .?’ She broke off, unable to ask the question.
‘No, not dead,’ Amelia said, and there was a sob in her voice. ‘His plane was brought down in the Channel. He’s alive but –’ she choked as though it was impossible to go on – ‘they say he has received some nasty burns to his left side . . . face and body.’
For a moment the world seemed to whirl madly around Emily. She thought she was going to faint, but made a grab for the nearest object, which happened to be the hallstand, holding on until the dizziness passed.
‘Yes, I see,’ she managed at last. ‘Where is he?’
‘He’s at St Michael’s, just a few miles from us. His father had him transferred from the military hospital, because he will get more attention here. Vane is bringing a specialist in to examine him and then we shall see.’
‘When did it happen?’
Amelia hesitated. ‘We were told last week. His father didn’t want you to know until he had been assessed – in case it was too much of a shock for you. It isn’t quite as bad as we had feared, Emily. The doctors here think he will pull through, though it is going to be a long haul.’
‘But why wasn’t I informed? I am his wife . . .’ Emily felt a spurt of irritation. She was his next of kin, but his parents had been told first and they hadn’t told her until almost a week after the plane came down.
Amelia sounded embarrassed as she tried to explain. ‘Apparently Simon still had his father down as his next of kin, though how that happened I don’t know. He must have told them he was getting married, but you know how these things happen. It’s just an official mix-up again. I’m sorry, Emily. I thought you should have been told immediately, but Vane was worried for you in case—’
‘I’m not pregnant if that’s what you’re trying to ask,’ Emily said, a sharp note in her voice. She was angry that they had kept the news from her, and that Simon hadn’t registered her as his next of kin. It reinforced her feeling that she was just a woman he had married for breeding purposes, not truly important.
‘No, well, that can’t be helped,’ Amelia said. ‘You will want to see Simon as soon as they allow visitors, of course. Shall we expect you tomorrow?’
‘Yes, I’ll come tomorrow if they will let me go.’
‘I should hardly think they will refuse in the circumstances.’
‘No, I don’t suppose they will,’ Emily said. It was awful of her but she was reluctant to give up her work to live with Simon’s family, which would almost undoubtedly happen. ‘I’ll speak to my supervisor this evening and catch the first train tomorrow.’
‘We shall expect you,’ Amelia said. ‘And I’m very sorry, Emily . . . about everything.’
‘It isn’t your fault,’ Emily said, but she knew her voice was formal, cool. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow then.’
She put the phone down and sat on the bottom stair, hunching her knees up to her chest. She felt numb, confused, and her chest hurt. Tears were burning her eyes, but she held them back. Mostly, she felt guilty, as though it was her fault Simon had been hurt. She had been resenting him for not phoning her while he’d been lying in a hospital bed. It was almost as bad as if she had been directly responsible.
Why hadn’t his father let her know immediately? More importantly, why hadn’t Simon had her down as his next of kin?
Hearing her landlady hovering, Emily jumped up, grabbed her coat from the hallstand and went out before anything was said. She had money in her pocket, though she would walk most of the way. It would do her good.
Ten
Alice was walking home after returning from Ely with the shopping she’d done for her mother. It was a better day at last and there were signs that spring might be on its way – another reason to make her smile if she didn’t have enough of them already.
She was almost certain she was having a baby, Daniel’s baby. She nursed the pleasure of her secret to her as she remembered sitting up in bed eating chocolates and sipping champagne. It hadn’t happened the first time they had made love, but she must have fallen on her wedding night or the morning after. They had certainly made the most of their brief time together, and she couldn’t be happier if a baby was the result. She knew that Daniel had wanted to wait for a family at one time, but if it had happened, it had happened; they would manage somehow. Her father had promised her a nice present when they set up home, and she’d decided to save the money for rent by staying put for the time being.
‘Why move when we’ve plenty of room for you?’ her mother had told her when Henry took them to see the house in the fen. ‘This place would be nice enough if Daniel were here to share it, but you’ll feel lonely here on your own. Save the rent and wait until he comes home.’
Her mother’s advice made a lot of sense, Alice decided. She didn’t particularly want to live in a large old house in the fen when there were modern ones in the village that might become available in time.
‘It was good of you to find it for me,’ she told Henry, ‘but I think I’ll wait until Daniel comes home.’
‘Sensible lass,’ Henry said, and smiled at her. ‘See how things go. Daniel will probably buy something better when he’s ready – with a yard where he can do up his bits and pieces. We’ve
got land he could build on if he wanted. I think you’re doing the right thing. Save your money and wait.’
So Alice was going to keep living with her family for now. Her mother might frown when she discovered she was pregnant, but she wouldn’t change her mind.
‘Oh, Alice!’ Frances called to her from across the street. ‘Wait a moment, will you? I wanted to tell you something. I’ve had a letter from Emily.’
Alice waited for her to walk across the road. It was very quiet, hardly anybody about, and somewhere nearby a thrush was trilling its heart out.
‘It’s warmer today, isn’t it?’ Alice said, then she saw the look on Frances’s face and felt chilled. ‘Is something wrong – bad news?’
‘Yes, it is,’ Frances told her. ‘Emily’s husband was shot down over the Channel and he’s been badly hurt.’
‘That’s terrible,’ Alice said, immediately concerned. ‘Poor Emily . . . but doesn’t Marcus fly with him?’
‘No, not for a while. They were moved to different crews a few months back. I’m not really sure why. Marcus said it was something to do with Simon – a disagreement between them. Simon asked for a transfer, I think.’
‘Oh, I see,’ Alice said, though of course she didn’t. ‘Does Emily know?’
Frances gave her an odd look. ‘Marcus said I wasn’t to tell her – he thought it might be awkward for me if she knew he and Simon had fallen out.’
‘Oh, I see. So Marcus is all right then?’
‘Yes, he’s fine, fingers crossed,’ Frances said, but her eyes were anxious and her hands worked nervously at her sides. You never knew who was next and the news had upset her. ‘Emily says it was some time before they would let her see Simon, but she has visited now and she doesn’t think the burns are as bad as they could have been. Simon is scarred but will recover with the proper medical care, and his father has brought in specialists – one of them flew over from America to consult with the English doctors on the best way forward. He might even go there to have some of the surgery he will need when he is well enough to undergo treatment.’