by Rosie Clarke
‘Oh my God, no!’ Peggy went white and sat down on the nearest chair. ‘There was me wittering on about broken windows – I had no idea that…’ Tears trickled down her cheeks. ‘The poor, poor man! Jan, I’m so very sorry. No wonder you made him stay here. I would’ve done the same thing.’
‘That’s what I thought, Mum,’ Janet said. ‘Ryan came to me for help and I couldn’t let him go wandering off late at night knowing he had nowhere to go. He helped me – I should probably have died in the plane crash that destroyed the cottage; if it hadn’t been for him taking me to tea I would have been there making Maggie’s bottle…’ A little shiver went through her as she remembered the German bomber that had been hit in a dogfight over Portsmouth; it had made for the sea but came down on the cottage she’d been renting from her friend Rosemary, only a few minutes from the pilot’s goal, resulting in a fire that destroyed her home and took the crew’s lives.
‘No, of course you couldn’t let him down,’ Peggy said. ‘Is there any tea in that pot, love? I could do with one. That news has made me feel sick – to think I was out gallivanting while you had to cope with all this…’
‘Maybe you had too much wine last night?’ Jan teased.
‘I’m assured nothing happened last night. Able is a gentleman,’ Peggy said a little defensively, and then raised her head, meeting her daughter’s eyes. ‘Something may develop quite soon, Janet. He’s asked me to go away for a few days, and if Anne is around to give you a hand…’
‘I could probably manage with Nellie,’ Janet said, ‘but if Anne is here all the better…’ She looked at her mother oddly. ‘You’re sure this is what you want, Mum? Going to a party is one thing – but a weekend away sounds more serious?’
‘Able seems serious,’ Peggy confessed. ‘He thinks he’s in love with me, Jan. I’m not sure what it means or how I feel about it, but I do know that I’m ready for something different. I want a little fun and excitement before I’m too old to stand a chance of finding love. Is that wrong of me?’ She shook her head. ‘My head keeps telling me I’m too old for him and I know I should forgive Laurie, accept he was unfaithful and get on with things – but I can’t.’
‘You’re angry with Dad and I don’t blame you. I’m angry with him too.’
‘But you don’t think I should get too serious about Able?’
‘I don’t know, Mum,’ Janet admitted honestly. ‘I understand how you feel. The next bomb could drop on us so why shouldn’t we take what we can from life while we have the chance? – and yet, if it all falls apart, you might get hurt and I don’t want that. This pub has been your life. You have so many friends here. Supposing Dad found out and demanded a divorce – would you be happy leaving everything you know to make a new life elsewhere? And what happens if you discover you made a mistake?’
‘I honestly can’t answer that,’ Peggy said. ‘I could cook anywhere and I think I could find my own living – but it would hurt both you and Pip if the family broke up. That would upset me…’ Peggy sighed. ‘Is it so wrong to feel happy because a young man thinks I’m beautiful and wants to be with me?’
‘No, Mum, it isn’t. In a way I know just how you feel. You’re not the only one to be tempted – but I’m resisting, because I still love Mike. At least, I love the man I married…’
‘Oh, Jan,’ her mother said and sighed. ‘My problems are nothing compared to yours. I shall think about it carefully, but when a marriage falls apart there isn’t that much left. Laurie hasn’t valued me for a long time. I know it happens to lots of people, but I believed that at heart we were still one, still the people who fell in love and married, but I don’t think that anymore. Laurie changed and I think perhaps I have too. I think I may be the one asking for a divorce.’
‘Oh Mum… I’m so sorry,’ Jan said. ‘But you know I’ll always stand with you whatever you decide.’
‘Thank you, my darling.’ Peggy finished her tea and got up. ‘I’m going to change out of this dress and get on with some cooking, but I don’t regret agreeing to go with Able and if that means change then so be it…’
Janet watched her mother leave the kitchen and was pensive She’d thought it was dangerous to get too involved with the young American because it could lead to the break-up of all their lives, and perhaps there was an element of selfishness in that; the pub was Janet’s home and she didn’t know where she would go if she had to leave.
It was a sobering thought, because Janet knew she couldn’t work full-time and look after her daughter and Mike was going to be in hospital for a long time yet. She wasn’t sure that she would ever have a home with him again, and that hurt so much.
‘It’s all this damned war,’ Janet said as she looked at her daughter crawling round her pen and trying to stand to peer through the bars. Maggie could walk a few steps now, even though her attempts usually ended with her sitting down abruptly on her bottom. Tears stung her eyes. ‘Your daddy has to get better and come back to us – he has to because otherwise…’
Janet felt as if a black cloud was hanging over her. Her own marriage was in peril and her parents were on the verge of splitting permanently. She wondered if her father knew how much he’d thrown away and realised she’d never truly known him.
*
Laurence had been labouring over the code for several days and it wasn’t working as he’d intended. Something was missing in him – the spark that had been there when Marie was around.
Damn it! He missed her. He missed her like hell and he was having difficulty in concentrating his mind on the words in front of him. Pushing back his chair, he got to his feet, reached for his jacket and shrugged it on. He needed to walk to clear his mind… to give himself a chance to work out where he was in his life.
It was wet and dank in the lanes about the large country house in which they were based. When the sun shone and the mist cleared there were the most beautiful views over the Scottish hills and he’d often walked with Marie when they were together… He would never regret having that time with her, even if it did lead to the wreck of his marriage. If he were truthful, he knew it already had. Peggy had instinctively realised that he’d been unfaithful and she was too proud a woman to simply accept it. Laurence had always known that about her; it was one of the reasons he’d admired her from the start.
His mind went back to the beginning, when they were courting and the first big war was tearing Europe apart. She’d seemed so beautiful, bright and clever, the best chance he would ever have of making the kind of marriage he wanted: a woman who was passionate about life and loving; a woman who would help him build up a business and become a successful man – and she had. Peggy had worked hard, bringing up their children, being a loving wife, and a wonderful cook. The pub was busy all the time because of her – and he was a damned fool to have thrown it all away.
Yet his content had eroded over time, long before he’d met Marie and fallen under her spell. He wasn’t sure why – perhaps because Peggy had so many friends. He’d resented the time she gave to others, her stepfather included. Percy had been a bit of a lecher in his time, though he’d managed to keep that from his wife and stepdaughter. Peggy had made such a fuss of him when he was ill that it made Laurence angry; he’d even wondered if they were having an affair, which he knew was stupid. The man was feeble, dying, and if he’d ever had ideas about Peggy they were long forgotten, replaced by gratitude for her kindness in his last months and weeks. Even though Laurence’s mind told him he should pity the man, he couldn’t, and he knew he’d given Peggy short shrift over the hours she’d spent there looking after him.
Was that the start of the rift? Laurence shook his head. No, it was earlier, deeper, more fundamental. He thought it was just that he’d grown bored with his life, bored with the sameness of every day and the same woman in his bed. He’d never been unfaithful to Peggy until he met Marie. Of course he’d thought about it. Some of the girls who came to the pub in the lunch hour were flirtatious and gave him the eye, but he didn’t hav
e time for an affair, and it was too much of a risk. He didn’t want to lose his family or the pub – but then he’d been forced to leave, to come to Scotland to this training centre, and everything had changed. Life was exciting, new, and challenging, and Marie was like no one he’d ever met.
Their relationship had lasted only a few weeks. He’d gone home for Christmas and she’d gone over there – risking her life somewhere in France or perhaps even Austria or Germany. Laurence didn’t know. They were never told exactly where their operatives went, but they knew it was somewhere close to danger – somewhere they could be discovered and killed at any time.
The thought of all that vitality and passion being wiped out by a German gun made Laurence sick to his guts. He wanted her so desperately at times that he could hardly keep his mouth shut when he was told that Marie had sent an important message. Although he’d known her so well, he wasn’t her radio partner and all he heard were snippets. He wasn’t sure how he would feel if he heard she’d been killed, although he accepted that their relationship was very probably over. Marie had told him before she left and she’d never pretended it was for life, just for now, for pleasure – for satisfaction.
She’d certainly given him that, he thought with a smile on his face: the best sex he’d ever had, but she’d also made him feel young, important and special, and for that he’d adored her. Marie was everything he’d wanted to give him back the hope and ambition he’d lost over the years, but now she’d gone, and even if she survived and returned to England, he knew it was over. Now it seemed that he had little choice but to save what he could of his marriage. If Marie had agreed he might have been willing to jettison the lot for her sake…
‘The boss wants to see you…’ Laurence was told as he entered the house and made his way to his office. ‘He’s in a bit of a bother so don’t keep him waiting.’
‘OK, thanks,’ Laurence said and turned towards the major’s office, knocking and entering when he was invited.
Major Harris glanced up from a sheaf of papers and stared at him, then inclined his head. ‘Ashley, thanks for coming. We’ve had some bad news I’m afraid – a couple of our people have been arrested by the Gestapo. I think they may have our latest codes. Is that new one you’re working on ready for me?’
‘Very nearly,’ Laurence replied. ‘I was struggling for something but I took a walk to clear my head and I think I’ve cracked it.’
‘Good. Get it to me as soon as you’re certain. We’ll be sending someone out early next week and I want him to have the latest codes. Until then we need to be on our guard in case of false messages…’
‘Yes, sir. I’ll work on it all night if necessary…’
‘Good man…’ Major Harris hesitated then, ‘I believe you were quite close to Marie?’ Laurence nodded, not trusting himself to speak. ‘Yes, I thought so – never a wise thing in the circumstances. She’s one of the two that have gone missing. We’re not sure, but you understand the position. Once the Gestapo get them… Well, I thought you should know. Crack on with the code, there’s a good chap.’
Laurence hesitated. Every nerve in his body was screaming and he wanted to beg for more details, to force his superior to send him out there, but he knew it was useless. He would be told the minimum necessary, and if he offered to go out there, be informed that he wasn’t qualified and would make a mess of things. What hurt most was that it was true; there were others much better equipped to lead the double life necessary for an operative in the field.
Biting back the torrent of emotional words, he left the officer and went back to his own desk. He was filled with a bitter anger against the enemy – against the men who were even now beating or torturing the woman he cared for so much that it made him feel dizzy with anguish. At that moment he wanted to fight; he wanted to be given a gun and sent out to shoot Germans, but they wouldn’t let him be a soldier, because he was too old and they wouldn’t let him be a spy, because, as Marie had once told him, his French would get him hung, if not by the Gestapo by the French themselves. As far as his superiors were concerned, he had one skill they were interested in and one only.
Bending his head to the task, Laurence discovered the solution was jumping out at him. Perhaps it was his sense of grief and despair that made what had seemed a boring task half an hour ago become vital and necessary.
‘You can do it, my Laurence,’ he felt her breath on his cheek and Marie’s husky voice in his ear. ‘My beautiful man. You are so clever and I want you – kiss me now…’
Laurence felt the pain strike into his heart because he knew with a certainty beyond question that Marie was already dead. Tears stung his eyes but he brushed them away impatiently. Marie had told him that they must live for the moment and she’d given him the sweetest memories, but there would never be any more. Maybe she’d known even before she left that she would not return…
Chapter 10
‘That’s over then,’ Sally said as they returned to the bedroom they were sharing at her parents’ home. The funeral had been bleak and hard for everyone; Sally’s mother sobbing into a large handkerchief all through the ceremony and the reception afterwards, her thin face gaunt with grief. Sally’s father, a tall sallow-complexioned man, had remained stony-faced, greeting his daughter with a stare that did not acknowledge her and refusing to notice that she’d brought a friend with her: he hadn’t spoken to her once. Maureen understood why her friend had begged her to go home with her, because the atmosphere was so tense it was almost unbearable. Sally was stripping off her dark clothes with hands that trembled in their haste. ‘Take those clothes off, Maureen. I need to get out of this house for a while…’
Maureen changed out of the black dress she’d borrowed for the funeral with relief. It belonged to Sally’s mother and though it was all right pulled in tight on the waist, a cloying scent of lavender water clung to it. She was glad to get back into her own purple tweed skirt and pink twinset.
‘Will your Mum mind us going off without a word?’ she asked as Sally led the way down the stairs and out the front door. Maureen was feeling uncomfortable because Sally’s parents had made it obvious that she wasn’t welcome in their house. Sally’s mother was in the kitchen putting away all the china and glassware that the two girls had washed up between them, and they made their escape before anyone saw them. ‘I had the feeling that she wanted you to talk to your father now it’s all over…’ Maureen ventured.
‘It will never be over for either of them,’ Sally said and made a wry face. ‘I’ve tried talking to my father, and he ignores me. I don’t exist as far as he is concerned. Whatever I say or do I can’t bring Billy back and they don’t care about anything else.’
Maureen looked at her uncertainly as they walked away from the neat semi-detached house. Sally’s parents were relatively well off, compared to the people she’d grown up with, and they had a nice house in the suburbs with four bedrooms and a small car standing in the drive. Sally’s father was head of the accounts department in a large store and wore dark suits all the time. In the house everything was in its place, shiny and pristine, and it had felt like a morgue to Maureen, and not just because they’d been to Billy’s funeral. She imagined Sally must have had a hard time growing up in such a home, and understood perfectly why her friend had begged her to go with her. Even though the hostility of Sally’s parents made her uncomfortable, she was glad she was there to support her friend.
‘Where do you want to go?’ Maureen asked.
‘I don’t know – somewhere there’s life, and friendly faces. I just have to get away from that for a while…’
‘Shall we go to Peggy’s pub? We can get the underground and then walk. She’s always got a smile – and she does good food too.’
‘Sounds wonderful,’ Sally agreed, slipping an arm through hers. ‘I’m so glad you came, love. I couldn’t have got through it without you.’
‘You’re coming back to Portsmouth with me tomorrow, aren’t you?’
Sally nodd
ed. ‘Yes; we’re on duty the day after. Matron didn’t want us to have that long… is there anything else you have to do before we leave?’
‘I’ll pop in and see Rory in the morning, because I don’t manage to visit him often enough. I saw him this morning for an hour before we got ready for the church, and he was really fed up.’
‘Does he want you to marry him?’
‘Yes, one day,’ Maureen said vaguely. She didn’t want to explain the awkwardness of their situation. If she told Sally that, after their break-up some years previously, Rory had gone straight off and married someone else, she would think Maureen was mad to stay with him, but she couldn’t understand that Maureen still clung to the memory of how sweet their love had been before she’d had to end it for her father’s sake. Rory blamed her for what he’d done and in fairness perhaps she was a little to blame. Perhaps that was the reason that she’d let him back into her life, but for the moment she wasn’t sure what that meant or whether they would ever be together.
Until Rory could find proof that Velma wasn’t actually his wife because of a previous marriage, he couldn’t legally marry Maureen. Besides, she was in no hurry, because it would mean she would have to apply to be posted to London and Matron wouldn’t be happy about her leaving. Marriage was still frowned on amongst the nurses and trainees, though some matrons turned a blind eye if they needed the nurse. Even if she could remain with the service, once she was Rory’s wife, he wouldn’t be happy about that, especially as it was unlikely that he would be able to return to a fighting unit. Maureen knew he was apprehensive about the future and felt guilty that she wasn’t there for him more, but he didn’t make it easy.
‘I’m never going to get married,’ Sally said firmly. ‘I didn’t tell you about Mac – did I?’ Maureen shook her head. ‘We were more or less engaged but he was regular army and killed in the first battle over there… I don’t think it’s worth caring about anyone. When you see what it’s done to my mother and father… I don’t want to love anyone, even a child.’