Vera's Valour

by Anne Holman

  Vera looked down at his slipped feet. “Show me. It doesn’t look injured.”

  He removed his slipper and there was his beautifully shaped foot.

  “There, see, it has been mended. You can walk, Geoff.”

  He was looking at his foot wriggling his toes and she longed to kiss him. She longed to kiss his lips, to feel his arms around her after being parted from him for such a long time. But she could tell it was going to take some time to bring him back to normal.

  “Nurse,” he said suddenly, “what’s the time?”

  She took a deep breath in and said, “I am not a nurse. I’m Vera. Your wife. Now, listen to me carefully, Geoff. You must understand that I got back to England safely after I left you in France. I am living at our cottage and I want you to come home with me today.”

  His eyes penetrated hers. “Are you really my Vera?”

  “Of course I am. Your cook. Remember what a good cook I am?”

  “Vera was a good cook,” he muttered, “a very good cook.”

  “Would you like me to cook you your supper tonight? You look as if you need feeding up.”

  His face broke into a wry smile. “Yes. The meals here are awful.”

  She laughed gently as she bent over to kiss his worn face.

  He seemed to come alive. “Vera, is it really you?”

  “Really,” she replied kissing him again on the lips.

  It was as if a load had been lifted from his shoulders. He took her hand and kissed it. “Vera, please take me home,” he said.

  The doctor was clearly amazed to find them talking and even chuckling together when he called in later.

  “Can he come back with me?” Vera asked anxiously.

  “Certainly, although don’t be surprised if he has a relapse. He might crawl back into his shell again.”

  Vera was told he hadn’t any belongings, only funnily enough he had his slide rule which he happened to be carrying when he was injured. “It’s important for him to keep that. It may help him to remember those parts of his life that lay buried still.”

  Vera thanked the doctor but was aware the busy medical man had other cases he had to deal with and was not reluctant to let Geoff leave the hospital.

  She felt triumphant to be bringing him home with her. Although she didn’t know what to expect when he had got home – and met his son.

  She rang her mother to say she should expect them.

  In the back of John’s car they sat close together. Sharing the warmth of their bodies. Holding hands, and saying very little.

  Mum came up trumps when they reached the cottage, she had left a slow cooking casserole in the range. The dogs went wild having their master home, and Geoff seemed to recognise them.

  But he didn’t seem at all happy to find a baby in the house.

  “Whose baby is it?” he asked when her heard the child cry.

  “Mine,” Vera said, then wished she’d said, “Ours.” How she wished now she’d told him she was expecting his baby in France. She’d expected Geoff to be thrilled to find he had a son. But he seemed unmoved. Unwilling to accept the child as his.

  Vera wondered whether he thought another man was the father of her child.

  After Victor was asleep in bed, Mum told Vera that she thought it wise not to tell Geoff that the child was his. “Let Geoff settle first.”

  Vera said, when Geoff had gone upstairs in bed. “Geoff’s coming out of his coma, the doctor told me. We must carry on as normal and let him find his feet. The only thing I think we should do is to tell him repeatedly that Victor is his son.”

  Vera almost wept when she got in bed beside him and he ignored her. The whole day had been harrowing. But she succeeded in bringing her husband home – if only he wouldn’t recognise her as his lover, and Victor as his son.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “JOHN has offered to take me home today,” Mum said in the morning as they were eating their breakfast in the kitchen. “He thinks – and I think too – you ought to be left together as a family to sort your lives out.”

  Vera had been too tired, too emotionally drained, after bringing Geoff home, to think about the fact that John and her mother were left together when she and Geoff had retired. She wondered if they had shared the spare bed her mother had been using for the past few weeks. She said, “I think we are not the only couple to have to sort our lives out.”

  Mum smiled as she spread some homemade marmalade on her toast. “Yes, Vera, I’ve decided to marry John. Do you mind?”

  Vera got up from the table and ran around to hug her mother. “I’m delighted for you. I think John will make you a splendid companion. He’s such a good, kind man.”

  “Thank you, Vera,” said John coming into the kitchen and overhearing her praise of him. And Vera was delighted to see that Geoff come in behind him too. They had been out walking the dogs together in the early morning sunshine.

  Vera longed to embrace Geoff, but he didn’t seem to want to show her any affection. Outwardly, he was physically well, but she knew inside his mind was still in turmoil. She would have to be patient.

  “Come and have some bacon and egg,” she said, her mind on her cooking, “and take your muddy wellies off you men if you please.”

  It seemed very quiet later that day after Mum and John had left the cottage.

  Vera had plenty to do looking after her baby with no one to help her, because Geoff continued to treat the child as someone else’s.

  * * * *

  Vera missed Mum’s companionship because Geoff kept himself to himself. He even moved into the spare room – not that that made much difference to Vera because he’d been sleeping on his side of the bed, and she on the other.

  Every day, although he took the dogs out which did him good, although he sat around most of the day.

  Victor was a good baby but there were times when she wished his father would pick him up and cuddle him because she had more to do now her mother had gone, and found she had less time to play with Victor.

  Gradually Geoff began to potter around the house and garden. He began to look at his papers, and sometimes asked her the strangest things. But she was patient and answered his questions until he was satisfied.

  They might appear to others to be a contented family – but they were not united. If Geoff did not accept the Victor was his son, and continued to sleep in the spare room, their marriage was ruined.

  And as the weeks went by, she began to despair of having him truly back with her.

  Her toothache came on suddenly one day. Vera tried to ignore it at first, hoping it would go away. She was too busy to go to the dentist – at first – but as the pain persisted and got worse, she knew she had to go.

  “I have to go to the dentist,” she told Geoff who was cleaning his shoes. His army habits persisted which was a good thing because he was a good-looking man, and he kept himself well turned out, although many of his jackets had patches on the cuffs and elbows.

  “Brown’s a good chap,” Geoff said.

  “I have to go today.”

  “Toothache?”

  Vera nodded. “I’ll ring and make an appointment.”

  Having arranged to go that afternoon - by bus because they had no petrol for the car - she was getting the baby’s carry basket ready when Geoff said, “Leave the baby here. You can’t take that big baby basket on the bus by yourself. I’ll look after him.”

  Vera gulped. Was it wise to leave Victor behind? She said, “The dental reception nurse will look after him, I’m sure.”

  He sounded his old commanding self when he retorted, “I’m quite capable of looking after a baby for a few hours.”

  “I hope I’m not going to be that long.”

  Geoff came up close to her and looked into her eyes. “Trust me,” he said.

  He’d guessed her dilemma – was he well enough to act as a nanny for awhile?

  She had to make up her mind. Could he care for a baby he thought was not his own? Should she show him t
hat she thought he was recovered enough to look after Victor – would her decision help him to feel he was getting better?

  “Yes, of course I trust you,” she said decisively.

  He lower his head to kiss her lightly on her cheek and to and brush her hair tidy with his fingers, “I’d like you to get me a few things while you’re in town.”

  Doing a bit of shopping would make a nice break. She would be able to get a few things for herself too. Although they were well provided with basic foodstuffs there were other things she’d been meaning to get from town, spices for cooking and some hair shampoo, when she had the opportunity to get there.

  “Write a list of what you want and I’ll do my best,” she said hurrying to put on her coat, hat and gloves before she changed her mind. “Victor’s sleeping at the moment, when he wakes pop him into his playpen with his toys, and give him drink of milk and a rusk to nibble?”

  “Am I allow one too?”

  Vera smiled. “Only one each,” she replied. This was the first time he’d shown his sense of the humour she knew of old. It was so good to hear she went back and kissed him on the lips, then rushed out of the cottage with a wide grin on her face, calling back to him, “I must dash or I’ll miss the bus.”

  Having the tooth pulled was unpleasant, but the dentist assured her it was necessary. But having the pleasure of shopping – even with a sore gum, allowed her to forget it as she scurried around Lynn, collecting the things on Geoff’s list and searching for her own requirements. Especially as the war time shops looked drab and so many things were on the ration.

  “Here’s a nice pre-war shampoo,” said the chemist’s assistant quietly showing it to Vera so that no one else would see. “I found some in the storeroom the other day when I was tidying it up. I want to offer it to my regular customers, and you and your Mum have been shopping here for years.”

  “Thanks,” whispered Vera, paying for the bottle and quickly putting in into her shopping bag so that no other customer could see it. “It’ll make me all glamorous like a film star!”

  “Your husband will like that. And how’s Mr Parkington – the Colonel, I mean?”

  “He’s getting on fine. He’s looking after our little son, Victor, which reminds me I should be getting back. The bus leaves in ten minutes.”

  She would have liked to have had the time to pop into the British Restaurant and see the girls – but she didn’t want to have to wait another hour or so for a later one. And seated on the bus, she began to be worried about little Victor – was he all right with Geoff?

  And then she began to wonder what Geoff would do when he was demobbed from the army, as he would be after his serious injuries. What job could he do? What would he like to do?

  She could continue in the catering trade. Cooking was her art. She would have to think where she could work when the war was over – and it did seem, listening to the BBC News that the war in Europe would be over soon. Of course there were still the Japaneses to beat, but the Americans were making good progress on that front.

  So engrossed in her thoughts, Vera almost missed her stop and had to get up quickly with her packages and press the bell for the driver to stop.

  He did stop a little after the proper bus stop because Vera was so slow telling him, that she wanted to get off. And she had to walk back about a quarter of a mile.

  The dogs were the first to greet her and she thought it a pity they couldn’t carry her shopping.

  By the time she got back to the cottage she felt exhausted. Kicking her shoes off by the front door, and taking off her outdoor clothes, she listened.

  There was no sound of Geoff - or the baby.

  Panic rose in her breast, as she looked around.

  Then she spied Geoff sitting in his armchair with Victor in his arms. He was cuddling him and talking to his tiny son, “Now I consider that very careless of your mother to go and miss the bus, don’t you, Victor?”

  The child looked up fearlessly into his father’s eyes and dribbled as he put his small thumb in his mouth.

  Together they made a beautiful picture of father and child, and for Vera it seemed that having to look after the child had allowed Geoff to get in touch with his emotions again. Because he’d nothing to explain to the baby, or the dogs, about his wartime fears and worries, they accepted him as someone who loved them - as they loved Geoff. His past troubles and injuries were over, all that concerned them was the future.

  Geoff went on, “We’ll have to train her to do better than that. One rusk is not enough to keep us men going for long is it?”

  Tears formed in Vera’s eyes. It was plain to see that Geoff was happy with his child – and Victor was happy too. Overjoyed, she called, “I’m sorry. I forget to ring the bell to tell the driver I wanted to get off, and he kindly stopped further on, and I had to walk back.”

  As he looked at her, Vera felt embarrassed to have wet eyes and turned abruptly saying, “ I’ll put the kettle on. What do you fancy for your supper?”

  “Trust a woman to think of an excuse to be late,” she heard Geoff say.

  A little later he called to her, “We want to know if your tooth’s OK?”

  “Gone,” she replied, from the kitchen as she put the shopping on the table calling back so he could hear. ”Now I hope I’ve managed to get all the things you wanted. I found some catgut – but what on earth you want that for I can’t think.”

  He rose and put the baby back into his playpen then came in behind her saying, “Thank you for getting it,” and picked up the packet containing the string set. It’s for my violin.”

  “I didn’t know you had a musical instrument.”

  “Well, I have. It’s somewhere in the loft.”

  “Well I never! So you are going to entertain us?”

  “I’ll have to get it restrung at first. Then I’ll make sure you are out when I start practising.”

  “Oh thanks,” Vera said, imagining the unpleasant sounds that a violin could make until it wasn’t tuned properly. “If that’s what you want, go ahead.”

  “Vera, all I really want, is you.”

  She loved the feeling of his arms firmly around her, thrilled that his emotions were returning, and asked, “and you want Victor too, I hope, now that you’ve become acquainted?”

  He kissed her neck and held her so close she had to beg to be released to be able to make the tea as the kettle started boiling, gushing white smoke.

  “Of course, Victor too,” he assured her, gently slapping her behind. “Now get on with making our tea if you please.”

  He sounded like the real Geoff again and she realised a great hurdle in his recovery had been overcome.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  THINGS suddenly seemed to Vera to happen rapidly.

  First, the newsreader could barely hide his emotion as he read the news telling all those listening around their radios that the war in Europe had come to and end. After all the heartaches, the losses and privations, a joyous feeling swept the land. The church bells rang and people smiled at each other. Four grim war years were over, and so many things in Britain had changed. And although victory over the Japanese still had to be won, it seemed right to celebrate the conquering of Hitler and all the evil he’d caused.

  “Of course, it won’t increase our bread rations,” Vera told her baby who just laughed and gurgled at her. “But by the time you are old enough to want some sandwiches young man, there should be as much as you want to make you grow into a strong man like your father. And the bakers won’t be bake the awful grey stuff they call bread these days. No, you’ll have the lovely white bread the bakers made before the war.”

  Victor was now six months old and thriving. Like his father – who’d thrown over his injuries and was becoming his normal self again. He’d taken up playing the violin. Vera didn’t particularly like hearing the violin – neither did the dogs – but Victor seemed to like it. And as Geoff practised and became more competent, he joined a small musical group in Lynn. They m
et together for musical evenings. All the musicians liked it when they met at the cottage because Vera always managed to make them some delicious refreshments.

  “How does you wife manage to make such lovely things to eat?” they asked Geoff.

  “She is a marvellous cook – why else do you think I married her?”

  Vera grinned at everyone enjoying eating her food - and got her own back by telling them that their planned concert at the local goal was unfair on the prisoners because they were a captive audience!

  Now Vera faced another challenge. She had a Victory Feast had to prepare.

  She’d been asked by Margaret to be in charge of the British Restaurant’s grand party for hundreds people who planned to celebrate VE Day at the restaurant. The tables would spill out into the street, and the children were wild with excitement as for many it was to be the first party in their lives.

  But Vera had to conjure up a memorable feast for everyone – with war rations!

  “I can’t possibly do it!” Vera cried, throwing down her pencil as she was trying to work out some recipes at home.

  “Yes, you can,” retorted Geoff, putting down the newspaper and getting up he walked over to the table to sit with Vera. “If I can help build Mulberrry, then you can feed the five hundred!” He put his large hand over hers and squeezed it gently.

  Encouraged, Vera turned to lift her face to kiss him saying, “You’re right. I shall do it - somehow.”

  It helped when she received a surprise parcel of tinned food from the American Army Store, sent by Freda’s owner, with more photos of the grown dog and Vera was able to explain to Geoff why she’d taken the puppy over to England, and tell him about the American Officer who had offered to look after Freda.

  But she had the feeling Geoff didn’t like the idea of her having a secret American friend – was he jealous? Or maybe he thought she’d had an affair with him, and that Victor was his child? Surely not!

  Anyway, the extra tins of American meats and fruits were most welcome to help her organise the food for the party.

  On the day before the party she went into Lynn again to discuss the preparation of the food with the girls at the British Restaurant.