by Anne Bennett
‘Of course I don’t,’ Sam said. ‘I really do think that you all need time together as a family.’
It actually suited him very well. He was being discharged on Friday, and then on the following Monday he had an interview with the editor of the Sutton Coldfield News, which the doctor had arranged. After that he would go to see Sarah and surprise her with the fact that he could now see again. He put his arms around her and said, ‘We must make the most of the time we have.’
On 2 May the Red Army found the burned remains of Hitler and his mistress, Eva Braun, whom he had married just days before. They had both committed suicide. Inside the same bunker were the bodies of Goebbels and his wife and six children, who had been poisoned by cyanide.
Still the fighting continued.
On Friday Sam said goodbye to the hospital. Although he was happy to leave he left behind some good friends, specially Mike Malone. Sam knew how much he owed the doctor and nurses and thanked them sincerely for what they had done for him. He made for home and hoped that he wouldn’t be that much of a shock for his poor mother because he had not told his parents he was being discharged, nor that he could now see. Peggy advised him to write first and tell them because the surprise he wanted to spring could upset their parents.
In the end, though, it was just as he imagined it would be. He walked from the station, for there wasn’t a bus for an hour or two, enjoying the exercise because he had grown sluggish in hospital. He took pleasure in the walk, seeing the beauty of the countryside around him as if for the first time.
When he had walked at a good pace for little over an hour he could see his home in the distance and two figures, whom he knew would be his father and his younger brother, Peter, toiling in the fields. He skirted the fields, however, and made for the house. He knew his mother would be in the kitchen and he lifted the latch and walked in. She was cooking something at the range and, thinking it was her husband or younger son come back to the house for something, didn’t move until Sam said, ‘Hello, Mom.’
Almost in slow motion she turned her head slowly to see her elder son as she never thought to see him again, standing straight and tall in her kitchen, and she blinked as if unable to believe the evidence of her own eyes. ‘It is me, Mom,’ Sam said, ‘and I’m completely better. I can see.’
Before the words were out of his mouth his mother was across the room and had his face in her hands. ‘You can see?’
‘As well as ever I could.’
‘Oh, praise God!’ she said fervently, with her arms wrapped tight around Sam, though tears ran down her face in a flood of thankfulness. ‘Oh, praise God!’
Sam’s father too was amazed, and enfolded his elder son in his arms in a way that he hadn’t done since Sam had been a small boy, and Peter was awed by the whole miracle. Then things moved with speed. Daisy, in her last year at the village school, had to be fetched, and so had Violet’s parents. The news ran round that small community like wildfire, and in those days of flux, when the war was not yet officially over though everyone thought it ought to be, it was wonderful to have good news. Everyone wanted to see this man blinded by the war who could now see again.
Sam could never remember a time when he had been hugged and kissed and cried over, nor had his hand pumped so many times. He was a hero, no doubt about it, and a miracle into the bargain. There was a sad moment when he caught sight of the parents of two of his mates killed in the blast that had temporarily blinded him, and saw their eyes still clouded with grief.
He approached them awkwardly. ‘There are no words to say how sorry I am,’ he said. ‘They were the very best mates for a man to have and we had been through so much we thought we were invincible. For some time after their death I felt bad to be alive, and I still wonder why I was saved when five good men died alongside me that day.’
‘You mustn’t feel responsible in any way,’ one of the fathers said, laying a hand on Sam’s shoulder. ‘We are delighted to see you hale and hearty, for we have known you since the day you were born. Just take joy in your life, for it’s a precious gift to have. And this is a day to celebrate that fact, and one our son would have approved of.’
‘Hear, hear,’ the other father said. ‘You must never feel guilty that you are alive. My son’s death was not your fault.’
Sam felt humbled by the courage of the fathers who had lost their sons to a war now slowly grinding to a halt, but he was glad he had spoken to them and he shook them both warmly by the hand.
TWENTY-NINE
After a relaxing weekend with his parents Sam went for his interview at the Sutton Coldfield News, thinking it was to talk about more articles. However, the doctor had told his editor friend that Sarah had virtually copied what Sam had told her and he had wanted to see this. So after a chat with Sam he gave him a number of news items to write an account of, putting his slant on them and when he had completed these the editor was so impressed that he offered him a job on the paper there and then.
Sam was stunned. He had thought he would revert to work on the land when the war eventually ended, because that was all he knew, and he was astounded that such an opportunity had been offered to him. Even though the paper had accepted the articles that Sarah had written up on his behalf he had never imagined that it would lead to any sort of employment, and the starting wage of five pounds and five shillings as a cub reporter was a good wage – far more than he could have earned ploughing a field.
However, though he accepted the job, he was seriously worried that he wouldn’t be able to do it. When he admitted this to the editor he said he could quite understand Sam’s trepidation at starting something so totally different from anything he had done before, but to have confidence because he could write very well. The editor assured him that he would soon settle into it and he would help him all he could.
Even so, Sam would have liked to have talked it over with Sarah, but even as he was thinking this the church bells began to ring and a young man burst through the doors and cried, ‘The war is over. Germany has surrendered and old Winnie has declared tomorrow a day of celebration.’
Sam wanted to make for Sarah’s but he stopped himself. Sarah had told him that their father wanted to celebrate when the war was over so in all likelihood that would be that night. It would be a family affair and maybe he shouldn’t intrude, so instead he decided to return home and tell his parents the good news about the job that he still could scarcely believe he had accepted.
That same evening Bill acknowledged that he was a lucky man. He had a wonderful wife, whom he still loved as much as the day he’d married her. He’d been so worried when they told him his heart had been affected by the fever, thinking his days were numbered, but the doctor was quick to reassure him.
‘There is no reason for you not to have a long and happy life if you’re careful,’ the doctor said as he was getting ready to leave. ‘There is no need to think of yourself as an invalid either.’
‘I’m very glad to hear that.’
‘What line of work are you in?’
‘The brass industry,’ Bill said, ‘but I was in a supervisory role when I enlisted, and they said the job would be waiting for me when I got back – if I got back, they meant, of course.’
‘So there is no lifting, or heavy work?’
Bill shook his head, ‘Not now. That sort of work is for the young fellows, younger than me, at any rate.’
‘Then there’s no reason why you should not return to it.’
‘And what about marital relations, Doctor?’
‘Sex, you mean?’ the doctor said with a grin on his face. ‘Good for body and soul. As long as you don’t go at it like a bull at a gate. But that is really the prerogative of the young. You have years of a healthy sex life ahead of you.’
And that is what he had told Marion as they snuggled in bed. Marion was glad the lights were out because she was embarrassed and a little frightened, though Bill had assured her there was no possibility of pregnancy. Marion would have preferred t
o turn over and sleep, but she heard the longing in Bill’s voice and acknowledged that he had been away for five long years. Surely she could do this one thing for him, though she didn’t expect that she would get much enjoyment from it herself.
However, Bill took his time. He had waited years and to wait a little longer could only bring sweeter pleasure, he knew, as he removed Marion’s nightdress for the first time and began caressing her body, gently at first and then more firmly. She was not at ease with that initially, but made no move to stop Bill, and very slowly the sexual feelings she had repressed for so long she had thought them dead and buried began to steal through her body. She felt them pulsating through her veins and seeping into her very bones so that she couldn’t help her little moans of passion. Then for the first time in her life she found herself crying out, ‘Now, oh, please now …’
Bill had a smile on his face as he entered his beautiful wife, and waves of pleasure seemed to rise higher and higher in Marion until she felt almost consumed with desire.
Afterwards, as she lay in sated contentment, she thought it was the only time that she had experienced such exquisite joy in making love to her own husband for all her married life. She had been frightened all the time that it might result in pregnancy, so much so that they had not enjoyed any sex at all since the twins had been born.
‘Can you see how what we have just enjoyed has anything to do with the Catholic Church?’ Bill asked her.
‘No, I can’t.’
‘Then bugger the lot of them and their rules on contraception, I say.’
‘Oh, Bill!’ Marion said.
‘“Oh, Bill!”’ Bill mimicked. ‘Come here, woman.’ And he gathered Marion into his arms. ‘I love you, Mrs Whittaker.’
‘And I am quite fond of you, Mr Whittaker.’
‘Only fond?’
‘Oh, Bill, I love you heart, body and soul, and you know that,’ Marion said.
Their lips met and the kiss seemed to seal the pledge. Then they slept entwined in each other’s arms.
Oh, yes, Bill thought, he was a very fortunate man. He even had a job to return to that he enjoyed and that paid a good wage, and many had far worse. But he had missed so much of the children’s growing up and he bitterly regretted that. The twins had grown out of all recognition, almost teenagers now and had been little more than wee girls when he had gone away. However, they had missed their father very much and hugged him tight and shed happy tears that he was back and would never have to go away again.
The loss of Tony, now that Bill was home, seemed more acute than ever. It was as if there was a space where he should have been. A desolate look sometimes lurked behind Bill’s eyes and when Marion saw this her heart was sore for him, but she knew that time eventually would make the pain more bearable for him as it had with her. Life had had to go on, for the sake of the others as well as her own sanity, and eventually Bill would realise he had to do the same.
Bill also felt a pang when he looked on Sarah’s face. It had given him a bit of a shock, because despite the letter telling him of the scarring, in the picture he had carried in his head Sarah had flawless skin and her long hair was tied up in a bun to match her mother’s.
‘If I’d been here I would have fought you going in the munitions,’ he told her. ‘I am so sorry about your face.’
‘I’m sorry about my face too, Dad,’ Sarah said, ‘and I’d be lying if I said anything different – like I’m sorry for all the victims of the bombing and the war. But the work I was doing was vital to the war effort and though I knew the risks I never thought anything would happen to me. You never do. If you thought that, no one would ever do anything.’
Bill could only agree. Richard had been right: Sarah the young girl had gone for ever and left behind a stalwart and principled young woman. Once he had accepted that, he had to admit her face wasn’t that bad at all and her bobbed hair quite suited her. What he couldn’t accept, though, was this Sam Wagstaffe, whom she wanted to marry. He knew that he was a brother of Peggy’s and that he was probably a decent enough chap but he was blind. Bill was sorry for him and all that, and he knew it would be a terrible affliction for a young man, and he knew that probably Sarah felt sorry for him too, but she didn’t have to be sorry enough to marry him, for God’s sake. There was no way on God’s earth that he was allowing his daughter to saddle herself with a blind man, and he was amazed that Marion had let it go as far as it had.
Still, there was no need for him to argue the toss with his daughter straight away – not that night, at least – for the war was over for them all and soon Richard would be home too. Sarah would give up this foolhardy idea of marrying this Sam Wagstaffe and life would get back to normal … Bill gave himself up to enjoying the celebrations.
They had all made inroads into the food and drink and the atmosphere was a jolly one, helped by the big band music belting out from the gramophone, when there was a knock at the door.
‘Wonder who that can be,’ Marion said, getting to her feet.
‘Probably your neighbours to complain about the noise,’ Polly said with a grin.
‘I hope not,’ said Marion. ‘It’s hardly late yet.’
‘Stay here,’ Bill said. ‘I’ll go.’ Marion knew that it was Bill’s way of establishing himself as the man of the house again so she let him.
Outside the door, Sam wasn’t sure that he was doing the right thing, but his parents had insisted when they learned that Sarah didn’t even know Sam could see again, let alone that he had left the hospital and had got the job at the newspaper.
‘And even without those things,’ his mother said firmly, ‘you should be with the one you love on this very special day.’
‘I don’t want to butt in,’ Sam said. ‘It’ll be a family celebration.’
‘Yes, and a family you will join if you marry Sarah, as you say you want to.’
‘If her father gives his permission.’
‘Well, why don’t you go and ask him?’ Sam’s father suggested.
‘Now? You really think I should?’
‘I think there is no time like the present.’
And so Sam Wagstaffe was standing outside the Whittakers’ door, and Bill saw the man was slightly discomforted, though he looked respectable enough. His face was open, though he had a fair few shrapnel burns. His eyes were very dark and there something vaguely familiar about him.
‘Can I help you?’ Bill asked.
Sam guessed that this was Sarah’s father and so he met his gaze levelly and said, ‘My name is Sam Wagstaffe and I’m here to see Sarah.’
Inside, Glenn Miller’s ‘In the Mood’ had come to an end and Sarah was pensive as she removed the record and wondered whenever she would get to see Sam again. Her mother sort of expected her to spend time with her father, especially as she was at home all day, and even her father said that he didn’t want her to be running off to the hospital every five minutes. She did love her father dearly and knew that he had been parted from them for years, but she ached to see Sam. She found the most frustrating thing about being with her father was that he didn’t discuss Sam with her at all, yet Sam was the very person she wanted to talk about. If she tried to tell him amusing or interesting things that Sam had said or done her father would change the subject.
Sarah was thinking this as she sorted through the records, deciding what to put on next, and above the ensuing chatter, Sarah heard the incredulous tone of her father as he said, ‘But I thought you were blind?’ She went to the door into the corridor to see who he was talking to.
When she saw Sam at the door, she couldn’t quite believe it. She had thought him still in hospital, and then he lifted his head and smiled at her, and those eyes she’d thought sightless fused with hers and she saw the love light shining in Sam’s as her hands flew to her mouth.
‘Sam?’ she asked tentatively.
‘Yes, Sarah,’ Sam said firmly, ‘I have recovered my sight.’
Sarah gave a shriek before running down the cor
ridor to Sam, and he caught her up in his arms. Then she drew him inside under Bill’s surprised nose. ‘Come and see the others,’ Sarah commanded, tugging him towards the room. ‘They’ll all want to see this.’
‘We’ll Meet Again’ was belting out from the record player, and Polly and her mother were dabbing their eyes, Sarah saw, as she dragged Sam into the room. When they caught sight of Sam, however, there were shrieks of surprise, and when he told them that he was able to see again everyone one wanted to know how it happened. Peggy and Violet had to admit that they had known about it but had promised not to say a word until he was fairly certain that his recovery was permanent.
Bill watched all this in dumbfounded surprise.
When Sam had answered everyone’s questions, he faced Bill and, still holding Sarah to him, said, ‘And you are Sarah’s father?’
Bill gave a brief nod. ‘I am.’
‘Well, then,’ Sam said, ‘I would like your permission to marry your daughter. I love her with all my heart and soul, and will do so until the breath leaves my body. I will do all in my power to make her happy.’
Bill was impressed by the sincere way Sam had spoken, but before he could speak, spontaneous applause broke out from the family, who had crowded all around Sam and Sarah.
Bill looked at them and then turned to Sam. ‘You seem to have the support of everyone here, but Sarah is very dear to us. Until a few minutes ago I thought you were blind, and what I want to know is, will you be able to support her?’
‘If you had asked me that question yesterday, sir, I wouldn’t be able to answer you so definitely,’ Sam said. ‘However, today I was invited to the offices of the Sutton Coldfield News where I was interviewed by the editor and given a short test and as a result of that I have been offered a position as a reporter.’
‘You have?’ Sarah asked.
‘I can scarcely believe it myself, Sam said. ‘I went back afterwards to tell my parents and I was having to pinch myself on the train. They could scarcely believe it either. And to think that this all came about because of all my experiences that you have been writing down.’