Minerva

by June Hirst

  ‘Well I never this is a surprise! I’m very pleased to meet you, and as he shook her hand Minerva felt relieved.

  ‘You have two weeks leave Sergeant Moxon and I speak for the whole base when I say get well quickly and get those magic fingers working again. Sergeant Wood you have been granted five days compassionate leave in recognition of your sturdy efforts to bring him back to life,’ the M.O. announced. Minerva almost choked with emotion and blushed, as she remembered those efforts, but managed to whisper,

  ‘Thank you doctor. I expect that you have arranged that for me. I shall have to speak to Sergeant Benson and make arrangements Martin.’

  ‘Telephone me when you get home. Wartime or not this is going to be my best Christmas ever. Goodbye for now my love,’ and he kissed her lightly, before taking his place in the Bentley. Minerva stood watching until the car disappeared, then with a spring in her step she went to tell Victoria and Barbara Benson her good news.

  Chapter 18

  The second Christmas of the war had arrived and in spite of the blitz and rationing everyone was determined to enjoy it. The E.N.S.A. concert party had been to R.A.F. Bilton and Vanessa had taken part, much to the men’s appreciation. Minerva and Victoria had been delighted to see her and even Sergeant Benson had congratulated her on her success. Vanessa was very pleased to hear Minerva’s news.

  Minerva was on her way home. The train was cold and crowded with troops. She preferred to stand in the corridor rather than be squashed in a smoky carriage. She watched the flat countryside change to rolling hills, each mile taking her closer to Martin. She had received a passionate letter, which was in her shirt pocket next to her heart. She instinctively raised her hand to touch it and felt its comfort. Muriel and Ben would be astounded by her news.

  Martin had been answering his mother’s questions all morning, without actually revealing where Minerva lived. She was satisfied that the girl’s father was killed in the last war and that she was an orphan. Even more important was the fact that this girl had brought her precious son back to consciousness.

  He was impatient to escape to the station. He was longing to hold Minerva in his arms and feel her soft breast pressed against his chest, while their hearts beat together with passion. He meant to meet her in the Bentley and carry her off to their special rock. He was waiting at the station when the train puffed in and stopped with an explosion of steam, through which Minerva appeared floating towards him like a vision. He ran to meet her with arms outstretched into which she melted. Oblivious to the milling crowd their lips met in a kiss of fierce hungry passion. They were interrupted by applause and calls of, ‘Merry Christmas.’ They grinned at the onlookers and hand in hand drifted along to the car.

  ‘Your carriage awaits Cinderella,’ he said laughingly, as he threw Minerva’s kit bag and gas mask into the back seat and she slid into the luxuriously upholstered front seat. She gazed at him, longingly, enjoying every part of his strong profile, his broad shoulders, his long legs and his magic fingers grasping the wheel. The car purred up the valley rising higher to the Pennine hills. She knew where they were going. When he stopped the car in a secluded place, he took her hand and together they climbed the stony path to their rock. They both gazed at the heart and initials, which Minerva had drawn. He removed her hat and released her golden curls, burying his face in their splendour, as he pulled her into his arms murmuring,

  ‘Minerva, my own special beauty, I love you so much.’ His hands were moving slowly down her back, arousing her to a deep overwhelming sensation of love. She moved her hands down his broad muscular back, as he kissed her with a slow intoxicating languor. She clung to him, as her legs felt to be melting and deep within her private place passion throbbed. She could feel his manhood throbbing against her. Suddenly he released her and they gazed into each other’s eyes.

  ‘Minerva, my own darling love I want you so much.’

  ‘I know and I love you with all my heart and soul Martin.’ He lifted her onto the flat rock and climbed up beside her where he knelt down.

  ‘Will you marry me Minerva, the love of my life? I wanted to ask you again, here in our special place.’

  ‘Oh yes Martin I never want to part from you again.’ He took a solitaire diamond engagement ring from out of his pocket and slid it on her finger. Her soft brown eyes filled with tears of happiness as she whispered,

  ‘Martin my love it is beautiful,’ and she kissed him gently and sweetly. They sat on the rock, controlling their passion and gazing down the valley. The mill chimneys had stopped smoking and the boilers were dampened down for the Christmas break.

  ‘Darling I must go. I have to pick up my father and Michael at the mill. We shall have to part until tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at half past three.’

  ‘Muriel will be wondering where I am. I must go and break the news. This is the best Christmas present ever. When I was a little girl I used to press my nose against the window looking for Santa Claus and be disappointed because I never saw him, but there was always a present next morning.’ He kissed her cold nose.

  ‘You are the best present I ever had,’ he whispered.

  ‘Oh! Look Martin, look at that bright star. It could be the star of Bethlehem. Let’s make a wish.’ The two lovers closed their eyes and holding hands made a secret wish and then they floated down the path in their own personal paradise. Soon they went their separate ways and Minerva felt to be walking on air along Buttercup Terrace. She entered the kitchen through the back door,

  ‘Merry Christmas Muriel, I’m home,’ she called. Muriel was pinning up paper chains in the front room and she almost fell off the chair.

  ‘Minnie love, you’re home. I’ve just finished the Christmas tree and decorations. I’ll make us a cup of tea. Have you brought your ration card?’

  ‘Yes I’ve got rations for five days.’ Muriel placed the kettle on the hob of the blazing fire and Minerva waited until they both had a cup of tea, before she made her announcement.

  ‘Muriel I have some very good news to tell you. Martin Moxon has asked me to marry him and I have accepted. Look at my engagement ring.’ Muriel almost dropped her cup and saucer and she stared with open mouthed amazement, absolutely speechless.

  ‘Say something Muriel. Sip your tea. You have had a shock,’ Minerva advised. Muriel gasped as she looked at the ring.

  ‘Minnie, love it’s beautiful, but are you sure. What will his snooty mother say? And Mr Moxon might not approve.’

  ‘We are in love Muriel. Anything can happen in wartime. I’ve met Mr Moxon and he approved. Martin and I met when you went to Blackpool last year, but I ran away and did not reveal my identity. I knew that I would not be acceptable, but times have changed. Fate has brought us together again, never to be parted, we hope. We are both stationed at the same camp now. We are both sergeants in His Majesty’s Forces. We are equal.

  ‘What will Ben say? He’ll be flabbergasted love. Eeh! our Minnie marrying Martin Moxon. When is the wedding? Just a minute! How are we going to pay? They’ll expect a posh do.’

  ‘Don’t worry about that Muriel. You won’t be expected to pay. I expect it will be a quiet wedding. We are at war. Martin is coming to meet you after we have had our Christmas dinners and then he is taking me to his home’

  ‘It is a good job I’ve cleaned and polished everywhere and the tree looks nice. He can come through the front door. Our Paddy can say Merry Christmas now.’ Muriel was flustered.

  ‘It will be O.K. Muriel, Martin is lovely and I love him so much.’

  ‘What does O.K. mean?’ Muriel asked.

  ‘It means everything will be just right. The Americans say it and the flying officers say it.’ Just for a fleeting moment she remembered Ricky, so quickly turned her attention to the budgerigar. ‘Merry Christmas Paddy, who’s a clever boy then? And on cue Paddy squawked, ‘Merry Christmas,’ and they both laughed.

  All the mills in the valley were closing down for the two day Christmas holiday. The enemy bombers had not found H
eatonfield, tucked into the Pennine valleys. The boilers were dampened down and the machinery was switched off. Joseph Moxon and his son Michael watched, as their workers swarmed across the yard like a human tide.

  ‘Two days of peace and quiet father. Let’s get the gates shut and go home.’ Joseph Moxon was glad that Michael had failed his medical, but felt guilty, because he could not love him, as much as he loved Martin. Michael was such a snob He did not like to remember that his grandparents had once been lowly mill workers.

  ‘Who is this girl, who our Martin says he is going to marry father? Where does she live? Who are her parents?’ Michael asked.

  ‘I’ve no idea lad, but she is a beauty and our Martin loves her. She brought him back from unconsciousness. She lives somewhere in the town. Your mother can’t wait to meet her tomorrow. You’d think she was a princess, the way your mother has had the servants cleaning and polishing. The tree and the decorations are splendid. By gum lad I’m looking forward to my Christmas dinner. Your mother has managed to get a large piece of pork, no questions asked where it came from. Here’s our Martin with the car.’

  The two lovers drifted through Christmas morning and Christmas dinner, which was traditionally eaten at one o’clock in the valleys. Minerva and Muriel were watching through the window, as the Bentley came down the street.

  ‘Oh my goodness they’ll all be peeping behind the curtains. Is everything neat and tidy? Oh dear! oh dear!’ Muriel exclaimed.

  ‘Stop panicking Muriel. The lad won’t eat you. He’s a grand lad and he loves our Minnie,’ Ben told her. Martin came in carrying presents for Muriel and Ben.

  ‘Merry Christmas everyone,’ he said as he handed the presents to them before kissing Minerva. Muriel was speechless.

  ‘Merry Christmas to you lad and thanks for the presents, Ben replied. Congratulations, I hear that you are going to marry our Minnie.’

  ‘That’s right Ben. I love her very much and I’ll take care of her always.’

  ‘That’s alright then isn’t it Muriel,’ and Muriel still wide eyed nodded. Minerva was feeling nervous and apprehensive, now that she was going to Martin’s home. Mr Beaumont, at the corner shop had let her have some of his late Chrysanthemums, from his greenhouse to give to Martin’s mother. Martin gazed at her with adoration. The green jumper, which Muriel had knitted for her, clung to her beautiful breasts. Oh how he longed to kiss them. The gold locket on a heavy chain, from Victoria’s parents, nestled between them. Her brown coat and beret matched her beautiful brown eyes, which were gazing into Martin’s adoring blue ones.

  ‘Right I’m ready,’ but she was looking braver than she felt. She said ‘goodbye’ as she slid into the car, knowing that all the neighbours would be watching. The miniature photographs of her parents were in her handbag and silently she prayed that they would be watching over her. Martin’s home loomed up in front of her, in the approaching dusk. Martin helped her out of the car and they mounted the steps to the big oak door, which was opened by a manservant, who took their coats. Martin opened the sitting room door and holding Minerva’s hand announced,

  ‘Mother, Father, Michael, I would like you to meet my fiancée, Minerva Wood.’ Joseph Moxon came towards them,

  ‘Welcome to our home, Minerva,’ he said. Michael stared, stunned by her beauty. Mary Moxon stood up and took a step towards them and then the colour drained from her face and she crumbled onto the floor. Minerva froze to the spot, as the three men fell to their knees surrounding her.

  ‘Put her in the recovery position father,’ Martin exclaimed. Together they gently moved her.

  ‘Mary, love, can you hear me,’ Joseph said, as he patted her cheek. Mary moaned and her eyes flickered. Minerva still stood transfixed to the spot, clutching the flowers. She had seen Mrs Moxon’s startled, shocked face. What if she was going to refuse to meet her? Joseph was fanning his wife with a newspaper. She opened her eyes.

  ‘Lift her onto the sofa, lads,’ Joseph told them. Minerva put down the flowers as she spotted a jug of water on a drinks table. She poured some into a glass approached the group and stood holding the water. Mary Moxon stared at her.

  ‘I thought that you were Evelyn,’ she whispered as Minerva handed her the water. The three men looked on in amazement. Mary Moxon was their rock, she had never fainted before. Who was Evelyn?

  ‘Sit down by me Minerva my dear. I’m so sorry if I frightened you all. Minerva reminded me of a friend from long ago. She disappeared, but I have never forgotten her. Minerva sat down, her mind was racing.

  ‘Michael will you fetch my photograph album from my bedroom cupboard, please?’

  ‘Certainly mother if that’s what you want,’ and Michael dashed off.

  ‘I’m very pleased to meet you Minerva. Martin obviously loves you very much and Joseph has told me how you helped him to regain consciousness. Thank you my dear.’

  ‘I’m very pleased to meet you too Mrs Moxon. I’m sorry that I gave you such a shock. My mother was called Evelyn too.’ Michael returned with the album and handed it to his mother and again staring at Minerva. Mary Moxon began to turn the pages.

  ‘This is my friend Evelyn and me at a garden party,’ she said. Minerva stared at the photograph.

  ‘Oh my goodness, look at this Martin!’ she exclaimed.

  ‘She is just like you Minerva. Isn’t that strange? ‘Martin replied. Minerva opened her handbag and took out the precious miniatures of her parents.

  ‘This is my mother. She died of influenza, when I was a baby and this is my father, who was a soldier killed in France. Mary Moxon took the photographs and tears rolled down her cheeks. Joseph took them from her.

  ‘The photographs are the same. You must be Evelyn Wood’s daughter, Minerva. It’s unbelievable. It’s like a fairy tale,’ he said. Minerva was trembling and she too began to cry. Martin gathered her into his arms and dried her tears and Joseph followed suit with his wife. Michael was stunned.

  ‘Michael we all need a brandy for the shock. Will you pour them please?’ Joseph asked. Michael handed out the glasses of brandy and they all sat in silence, sipping the restorative liquid. Minerva could not speak. Her whole being was in turmoil. Martin’s arm around her was comforting. Her heart was beating fast. A lump arose in her throat, as she thought about her mother and Martin’s mother as best friends. The brandy was calming her and she knew that Mrs Moxon would have many tales to tell, that would establish the roots, for which she had always longed. Joseph broke the silence, as he looked at the photographs and asked,

  ‘What was your father’s name, my dear?’

  ‘Ernest Froggett,’ Minerva replied.

  ‘I wonder if he was one of Jacob Froggett’s sons. I know that he lost one in the last war. After Christmas I’ll find out.’ Mary Moxon stood up thinking what a beautiful couple they were,

  ‘When are you going to be married?’ she asked.

  ‘As soon as possible mother, but we shall have to ask for permission to be married from our commanding officer.’ Martin replied.

  ‘This rotten war! We can’t have a big reception, because of rationing, but there is always the black market and I have a contact,’ Mary said.

  ‘Mother! We’ll pretend that we never heard that. Do you want to go to jail?’ Michael pompously told her.

  ‘Oh shut up Michael. You’ve just enjoyed some black market pork,’ Martin replied. ‘I’m sorry mother, but we can’t have a big splendid wedding. It won’t make any difference to our love. Our marriage will be forever. A wedding is only for a day and it will be a wartime wedding.’

  ‘I would not be able to find a wedding dress in the shops or buy ingredients for a wedding cake, Mrs Moxon.’

  ‘I have a beautiful silk wedding dress love. Would you like to try it on?’ Minerva was overwhelmed and tears of happiness sprang into her eyes.

  ‘Please do my dear. That would make us very happy,’ Joseph said.

  ‘Yes I would be honoured to wear your dress,’ Minerva whispered.

 
‘That’s settled then. Mary, I’m peckish. A pork and apple sauce sandwich would be very welcome,’ Joseph said.

  The rest of Christmas passed like a dream for Martin and Minerva. They saw the vicar of St. John’s church and Joseph insisted on asking Muriel and Ben to tea to talk about the wedding and Minerva’s mother and to thank them for looking after Minerva. When the mill opened the news spread like wild fire that Mr Martin was going to marry Minnie Wood. The happy couple returned to the camp in style, driven by Joseph in the Bentley.

  Martin returned to duty immediately much to everyone’s thankfulness. Magic Moxon was back at work. Victoria was overjoyed and rang her mother at once to send two dresses for her and Vanessa to wear as bridesmaids. The blitz continued and the bomber squadrons took off every night to reciprocate. Martin and Minerva snatched a few magic moments together on those bitterly cold January evenings of 1941, longing to lie naked in each other’s arms in blissful ecstasy, instead of quick cuddles and kisses in cold corners of the camp. The wedding was set for February and they had been granted a week of leave. Minerva prayed that the enemy bombers would keep away. At last Joseph Moxon arrived in the Bentley to fetch them home. Victoria and Vanessa, the bridesmaids were going to stay at Moxon Manor. When they saw the Bentley arrive a large crowd of Airmen and W.A.A.F.s had gathered. They all cheered when Martin arrived escorting the two beautiful girls. Joseph was very proud. They had formed a guard of honour and waved and cheered, as the car drove out of the camp. Vanessa was waiting at Brackston to be collected.

  When they arrived at Moxon Manor, Mary Moxon rushed outside to greet them and she was introduced to the bridesmaids. Martin was told to show them to their rooms.

  ‘Minerva, love we have a wonderful surprise for you. Come into the sitting room.’ Mary said. Minerva was escorted into the room, where an attractive elderly lady came to meet them. Joseph took the ladies arm,

  ‘Minerva my dear, this is your Grandma Wood,’ he announced. Minerva gasped and the colour drained from her face. She was unable to speak and she felt glued to the carpet. Her grandmother opened her arms and Minerva moved towards her in a dream. Their tears mingled as they clung together