by Linda Sole
‘Perhaps you’ve been overdoing things, Emily.’
‘It was just the shock,’ Emily said. Her throat felt tight and it was all she could do to keep from screaming at Amelia that she wanted to be alone. ‘A friend of mine, a fireman, has been killed in a gas explosion . . .’
How simple and unemotional that sounded, as if she were speaking of a stranger, something that had happened to someone she hardly knew. Yet there was no way that she could tell Amelia that the news had torn her world apart.
‘Yes, well, that is terrible, of course,’ Amelia said. ‘But you have been looking a bit peaky for a few days, Emily. If I were you I should make an appointment to see Dr Jones.’
‘Honestly, I feel fine,’ Emily said, though she was lying. Her heart felt as if it were being slowly torn in two and she was bleeding inside. She gave no sign of it, though her face was ashen and her eyes told their own story. ‘It was just the shock. I shall rest for a while and then I’ll get ready for the party this evening.’
‘You aren’t still going?’
‘Yes, I am.’ Emily raised her chin defiantly. This throbbing inside her head was almost more than she could bear, and her chest was so tight that she felt she might suffocate, but she had to keep going, because if she didn’t . . . she would not be able to bear her grief. ‘I can’t let the men down – and I don’t want anyone else to know about this if you don’t mind. Would you leave me now, Amelia, please? You’ve been very kind but I would like to lie down and rest for a while.’
She needed to be alone to absorb her grief, to try and understand what had happened, to come to terms with what it meant, the death of her dreams.
Amelia nodded her understanding and went away, anxious to discuss her thoughts and suspicions with her husband. After she had gone, Emily decided not to lie down but went instead to sit in the chair by the window, taking out the letter from Carole once more.
Carole had had no idea that she was involved with Terry. Her letter had been a bald statement that her fiancé’s brother had been killed in a gas explosion while attending a fire in the Docklands area of London and that she had attended his funeral. The news had come as such a shock that Emily had fainted, something she’d never done before in her life. She had been feeling well enough before that, Emily thought. It was Amelia’s imagination that she was looking peaky. Tears trickled down her cheeks and she tasted their salt on her lips
She stared at the letter in bewilderment. How could this have happened? And so soon after she had left him, only a few days! Had he suffered? Carole’s letter had told her nothing but the bare fact. She prayed he had not suffered, that his death and been quick, not slow and lingering.
It was so unfair, so cruel that Terry should die and that she should know nothing about it until after the funeral had already taken place. If Carole hadn’t written to her she might not have heard for months, and she would have started to think that Terry had deserted her, that he hadn’t really loved her.
But she knew that he had loved her very much indeed, there was no room in her mind for doubt. For a brief while they had been truly happy. At least she had that, Emily thought, fighting the wave of grief and despair that swept over her. She had been loved, truly loved. But we had so little time! The thought flashed into her mind: three days and nights, no more. Every nerve in her body was screaming in protest at the way happiness had been so cruelly snatched from her. She had done her duty in standing by Simon while she imagined he might need her, and then, when his confession had set her free, she had lost the man she truly loved.
Why? Why had it happened to Terry? Why must he be the one to die? She railed at a cruel fate and then remembered the night he had snatched that child from the burning house. He was brave and good and kind, and it made no kind of sense, no justice that he should die. But it was the kind of man he was, she realized. Terry would always have done his duty, gone that extra mile to help others, and Carole’s letter said he had been trying to get an injured fireman out of the danger area when the gas mains exploded.
Emily stood up and went into the bathroom to wash her face and get ready for the party that evening. She felt numb, her grief tearing at the curtain she’d dropped in place to keep it at bay. This wasn’t like Alice refusing to accept Dan was dead, because she knew there was no hope of Terry coming back to her, but she couldn’t let go now – her boys were relying on her for their Christmas party.
Amelia watched as Emily hosted the show that evening, introducing the various artists she had asked to perform for them, keeping up a light banter with the men and nurses, serving drinks and food, giving out the gifts she had bought, and wrapped in pretty paper herself. Anyone who didn’t know that she had received bad news would never guess that anything was wrong, but Amelia could see the shadow in her eyes, sense the pain she was suffering but refusing to admit.
However, Emily went through the motions and even made a little joke about Rose Baines being their own ‘forces sweetheart’. She led the applause when Rose belted out Vera Lynn’s popular songs and introduced the next act, but anyone who knew her must have sensed that something was wrong.
This friend must have meant a great deal to her, Amelia realized. Was he the friend Emily had been staying with that lost weekend, when Amelia had tried to find her and failed? There had been something about her when she came home that evening, a glow that came from inside her, and a look in her eyes. Was this man who had died her lover? Amelia had her suspicions, though she hadn’t voiced them to Vane – but she had mentioned another idea that had been in her mind for a day or two now. It was something about the eyes, a certain look she had seen in other women, but it hadn’t occurred to her that Emily might be pregnant until she fainted.
Of course she’d had a shock, but she hadn’t fainted when Simon died or when she’d learned that Vane had had a heart attack, despite being very upset. This fireman had clearly meant a great deal to Emily, and it was possible, just possible that she might be having his child, though perhaps she wasn’t aware of it herself as yet.
Christmas passed in a haze for Emily. She hardly knew what she was doing as she handed out presents, smiled, talked and did all the things that were expected of her. A part of her was dying inside, her heart aching so much that she could scarcely bear it, and yet outwardly she gave no sign of her grief. Perhaps her manner was cooler than usual, a little remote, but in the general atmosphere of Christmas celebration it went unnoticed. Mrs Vane was a busy woman; she had things to do, and couldn’t be expected to join in all the practical jokes and games that the men and nurses got up to. They all respected her, liked her, but understood that she was busy and they mustn’t intrude. Rose Baines asked her once if she was feeling unwell, but Emily smiled and said she was fine, and everyone else was too busy to notice.
Vane gave a small New Year’s party at the house for his friends. He had asked Emily if she wanted to invite any of her family, but she had refused, knowing that they would all celebrate at home. She attended her father-in-law’s party, making all the right noises, but feeling removed from the guests, as though seeing them from a distance. She was with them but apart, wrapped up in her private grief.
She worked longer hours at the home, doing more of the jobs that she had left to others previously, making certain that everything was as it ought to be. The nurses whispered that she was worse than any matron they had ever known, and that she would notice if a fly lighted on a window sill.
And then, in the middle of January, Emily was sick when she got out of bed in the morning. So sick that it left her feeling dizzy and when she tried to dress she found herself unable to do so and had to crawl back into bed until the spell of nausea passed.
After a while she was able to get up again, and began to feel much better. She ignored the sickness, dismissing it as her having eaten something that had disagreed with her, but then she was sick again the next morning, and the faintness was even worse. She decided to stay in bed for an hour or so, and was still there when Amelia ca
me up to ask what was wrong.
‘You look pale,’ she said, as Emily gazed up at her from the pillows. ‘Are you feeling unwell?’
‘I was sick earlier and I felt faint. It will pass in a little while as it did yesterday, but I thought I would have a lie-in. Perhaps I’ve been doing too much, as you suggested.’
‘Yes, I think you have been working too hard,’ Amelia agreed. ‘But have you considered that you might be pregnant, Emily?’
‘Pregnant . . .’ Emily stared at her. It was in her mind to deny it, but she suddenly realized that it was possible. She hadn’t fallen for a child with Simon and so it hadn’t occurred to her to wonder; in fact, she had almost made up her mind that she couldn’t have a baby, and now the idea burst on her like a bombshell. She pushed herself up against the pillows to a sitting position, realizing that the dizziness had passed. ‘I suppose I might be, Amelia. Yes, now I think about it, the symptoms are just the same as Frances had . . .’ Her eyes opened in wonder as she began to understand what had happened to her. She was having a baby – Terry’s baby. She was having Terry’s baby! For the first time since she had read Carole’s letter a flicker of warmth stirred inside her. Terry wasn’t completely lost to her after all. She was carrying his child in her womb. ‘Yes, I believe I might be, though I hadn’t realized – but what made you think of it?’
‘I’m not sure,’ Amelia said, and sat on the edge of the bed, smiling at her. ‘You hadn’t been looking well for a while, and though that might just have been shock and tiredness, I saw something in your face – something I’ve noticed before. It’s a look women get when they’re pregnant.’
‘I hadn’t even thought about it,’ Emily admitted. ‘But now that I have – it occurs to me that I’ve missed my courses this month. Why didn’t I notice that before?’
‘Because you’ve been desperately unhappy, haven’t you?’ Amelia reached for her hand, holding it gently. ‘Were you very much in love with your fireman, Emily?’
‘Terry?’ Emily’s voice was choked as she spoke his name. ‘Terry Burgess. He was so brave, Amelia. I saw him rescue a child from a house fire once, and . . . yes, I did love him very much. I still do and it hurts terribly.’
‘But now you will have his baby, won’t you?’
‘Yes, I shall have Terry’s child.’ Emily smiled at her as the realization finally burst inside her like a balloon of sunshine breaking through the grey of clouds. ‘Oh, Amelia, I’m going to have a baby!’
There was such a look of delighted disbelief on her face that Amelia laughed. ‘Yes, my dearest Emily, you are going to be a mother. I think that is wonderful – just what we all needed to bring some light back into this house.’
‘But what will Vane say?’ Emily looked at her anxiously as she considered her father-in-law’s reaction to the news. ‘He wanted a grandson, an heir to the estate, so badly and I didn’t give him one – and now I’m having someone else’s baby. It’s sure to upset him.’
‘Don’t you know how much Vane cares for you?’ Amelia asked. ‘He has been very worried about you these past few days, Emily. As indeed I have. We knew something was wrong but you seemed to retreat inside yourself and we couldn’t ask, we couldn’t pry.’
‘It hurt too much to let it out,’ Emily said, and brushed at her face as the tears trickled down her cheeks and into her mouth. ‘It still hurts terribly, Amelia. We only had three days together because I wouldn’t leave Simon. I knew he didn’t love me, not really, and I didn’t love him – not in the way I loved Terry. I believe now that it was just a young girl’s infatuation and if it hadn’t been for the war I would never have married Simon.’
‘It is sure to hurt,’ Amelia said, looking sad. ‘When you love someone it hurts to lose them. I loved someone once but he didn’t love me. He married someone much prettier and I broke my heart over him, and then I met Vane. I didn’t feel the same as I did about Richard, but I came to feel love for him, and I would hate to lose him. We are good friends. I think that was what Simon hoped to give you, the kind of friendship he knew existed between his father and me. You shouldn’t feel bitter over what he did, because he couldn’t help himself. I know he tried to resist Philip for a long time, but in the end his feelings were too strong. Many people think of what they had together as a bad thing, but for Simon it was real and honest. Can you understand that, Emily?’
‘Yes, I have from the beginning,’ she said. ‘I saw them touching and I knew it was love. I might have been angry or disgusted if I hadn’t seen the love between them, but I did and I understood that it was something they could not deny. We were going to get a divorce as soon as it could be decently done – that’s why I went to Terry. We knew we had to wait to marry but . . .’ she broke off on a sob. ‘We wanted to be together.’
Amelia squeezed her hand. ‘And now you have Terry’s baby to look forward to – we all do. I am just so pleased and so excited, my dear. You can’t imagine what a difference this will make to our lives. You will let us share your happiness, won’t you?’
‘But . . . will Vane want me to stay here once he knows?’
‘Do you have to tell him, Emily? Couldn’t you let him believe it is Simon’s child?’
Emily withdrew her hand from Amelia’s. ‘Surely you aren’t suggesting that I should lie to him?’
‘Would it be so very terrible? It would make him so happy – please think about it, Emily. Go to the doctor and make sure you are pregnant and not sickening for something, and think this through. Vane is a generous man. Nothing would be too good for your child, especially if it is a boy.’
‘I don’t think I can lie to him,’ Emily said. ‘I know you think it’s kind to let him believe Simon and I were together somehow when he came home for a few days, but it isn’t true. I like and respect Vane too much to deceive him.’
‘Well, just think it over for a few days,’ Amelia said. ‘Think what it might mean for your child . . .’
Emily was silent as Amelia stood up and walked over to the door. What she had just suggested was terrible . . . wasn’t it? To deceive a man like that was cruel. If he found out one day . . . No, she couldn’t do it, Emily decided. She would visit the doctor and make sure she was having a child, and then she would speak to her father-in-law, and tell him the truth.
She decided to stay in bed until lunchtime, because if she had been doing too much the rest would do her good, and she wasn’t going to take any chances. She wanted her baby – Terry’s baby. She wanted it very much.
Frances was in the garden hanging out some washing when someone called her name and she turned to see her father-in-law standing just outside the kitchen door. She felt a slight reluctance as she walked back to greet him. She wasn’t sure why she had begun to feel uneasy in his company of late, but there was something in the way he looked at her that made her uncomfortable.
‘You shouldn’t have to do this,’ Sam Danby said, his eyes moving over her almost hungrily. Frances had put on a small amount of weight since the baby, which in his opinion only made her more appealing. ‘Why don’t you let me find you a woman to help you?’
‘Millie comes in now and then,’ Frances said. ‘And I’ve heard about another girl who might want part-time work.’ She had stubbornly clung to her independence, though Sam had been pressing her to go and live at the big house with him and her mother-in-law. ‘Besides, I don’t mind doing housework now that it is my own home.’
‘Mind of your own, haven’t you, Frances?’ he murmured. ‘I like that in a woman – and I like you. Marcus is a lucky dog. I wouldn’t mind changing places with him.’
Frances swallowed hard. There was something in his tone, a look in his eyes that made her feel as if he were seeing her naked. She wished that Marcus would come home on leave – better still that the war would end and he would be here for good. If she hadn’t known that she had to be careful, she would have told Sam Danby exactly what she thought of him. But he was her husband’s father, and he had been generous to them buying th
is house and giving them money to start off their marriage.
‘I love Marcus,’ she said, looking him in the eyes, challenging him. ‘I wouldn’t change him for anyone.’
‘Young love,’ Sam said, and laughed. ‘Well, you’ll soon get over that, my dear. When you’ve had enough of billing and cooing you may be looking for something different. I shall be around if you need me.’ His inference was clear, chillingly so.
Frances didn’t answer. She just stood staring after him as he walked away, a cold shiver trickling down her spine. Why did she always feel that there was something hidden about Sam? On the surface he was a genial, open sort of man who had done well for himself – but underneath she sensed something very different.
It didn’t matter, Frances decided. Sam wouldn’t try anything on unless she gave him the opportunity, and she would be very careful not to do that. Besides, the war couldn’t go on for ever. Marcus would be coming home on leave soon and then surely his father would keep his distance.
Nothing terrible was going to happen to her. She dismissed the shadows that had seemed to come over her as she spoke with Sam. Emily always said she was lucky, and she always had been. Most things went her way. She didn’t see why her luck should run out. She had a lovely home, money to spend, a lovely child and a husband she adored. She couldn’t see why anything would change. As long as Marcus survived the war and came home to her . . .
Alice had been up half the night with her son. He had a bad tummy upset and she had been nursing him as he cried almost non-stop. She knew his crying had woken her mother, because she’d heard sounds of stirring coming from upstairs. It looked as if she would have to think about finding herself a house of her own, and Jim had offered her his cottage again. He’d told her that he’d done it up a bit, and that she was welcome to have it for a few shillings a week.
‘It is going begging, Alice,’ he’d said. ‘You could have it for nothing but I know you wouldn’t accept it like that – so give me three and sixpence and it’s yours for as long as you like.’