She met his gaze and saw the pain in it, and her heart went out to him. ‘I really didn’t mind. I loved you.’
‘Past tense, I notice?’
Bette made no reply to this, merely continued to regard him in silence, her mind whirling.
She’d come a long way since the day she’d stepped off that train as a green girl, a young war-bride paraded about town like a trophy. Yet far from welcoming her, the Jackson family had trapped her, first at the farm and then in the cabin, and all because they didn’t trust her, perhaps with some cause. Nevertheless, their behaviour was cruel all the same. They’d used a young girl’s foolishness as a weapon against her.
But she wasn’t a green girl any longer. The Germans might be on the run but Bette meant to stay put in this fine country, was building herself a good reputation here in lovely Savannah. She’d grown up a great deal in recent months, and was proud of her success. She’d been running her hairdressing salon for nearly five months now and knew that she could survive. On her own, if need be.
It was lonely at times but she was content.
She could afford to pay Josie rent now, and still have enough left over to get by comfortably enough, so she wasn’t complaining. She’d painted and done it up real smart, bought herself a few bits of second hand furniture, sewn curtains for the windows, even made some new friends. Big Fat Josie insisted she could stay on and live above the store for as long as she liked, but Bette was saving hard, hoping one day to buy a pretty little house in the square, just like Josie’s. That was her goal. Independence, for herself and Matthew. And she meant to achieve it.
No matter what happened with Chad, she wasn’t going to put her child’s future at risk.
He got up from the hairdresser’s chair and walked over to the window to gaze out upon the street, looking decidedly uncomfortable. ‘I hoped that if ever I found you again, you might find it in your heart to forgive and forget; to give us a second chance. If I can accept what happened between you and Barney as a mistake, in view of the circumstances, then maybe you could forgive me all those stupid lies I told.’
He turned to look back at her then, his heart in his eyes. ‘I never meant to cheat you. Could we try again, do you reckon, Bette?’
For some long minutes she still said nothing, her mind a turmoil of emotion, whirling round and round, asking herself what did she feel, what did she want? Bette felt so confused, she couldn’t even begin to think.
He wasn’t calling her any pet names now, she noticed. He was cautious and entirely respectful, nervous, as she was, of saying the wrong thing. But could it all be put to rights between them, or was it too late?
‘Your family abandoned me, left me alone in a mountain shack in the middle of nowhere, with a new baby. That’s just about as heartless as you can get. I’m not sure I can ever forgive them that, let alone you for allowing it to happen.’
He looked as if he were about to protest but Bette held up a hand to silence him and kept right on going.
‘Okay, so you were licking your wounds some place over my affair with Barney, but while you were doing that and ignoring your son, anything could’ve happened to us. Matthew might have caught a chill, got pneumonia and died, been bitten by a snake or something, let alone burnt to death in the back kitchen. We could’ve both been killed and who would have known, or cared?’
He looked stricken. ‘Oh God, Bette, don’t say that. I would. You know I would.’ Instinctively he stepped forward, his good arm outstretched as if he wanted to hold her, but when she made no move towards him, dropped it by his side again, uncertain and fearful of rejection.
‘I wish I could believe you.’
‘I still love you, hon.’ He offered her a sheepish grin, gazing at her then with all the love he felt for her naked in his warm, brown eyes. ‘The minute I found out where you were, I hightailed it over here, like some half-wit, love-sick fool come courting his gal. Will you take me back, Bette? Can we try again, do you reckon? I’m not asking you to come back to the farm, to my family. We can stay here, if you like, have our own place like we should’ve done from the start. You could carry on with your little business. I’ll mebbe get lucky and find me a job, now I have the pot arm an’ all.’
She tried to interrupt but he put up a hand to stop her, edged closer to touch her hair tenderly with his fingers, and kept right on talking.
‘I don’t want to spoil things for you and I know you prefer town life to the backwoods. I never was much of a farmer myself, s’matter of fact. Joined the marines like a shot when I got the chance, and I don’t regret it. Met you, didn’t I? Heck, and you sure do look pretty. Don’t know how I’m managing to keep my hands off you. Hey, did ya hear that? I said, hands! Hell, that’s pushing it a bit, huh? Should I say hand and hook, do you reckon?’
And suddenly Bette got a fit of the giggles. He seemed so much more relaxed, ,just like the Chad she’d fallen in love with, always ready for a laugh and not so troubled by his infirmity, not any more. Happiness washed over her and she knew it was going to be all right between them.
‘Nothing’s been settled yet,’ she cautioned. ‘I’ve agreed to nothing, except that we’ve been silly young fools. We’d need to take things slowly. Give ourselves time to get to know each other again, and used to the idea of being married.’
‘Right!’ He nodded, very seriously, his eyes roving over her face.
‘Is it too late, do you think, to put things right?’
‘Not by my book. But I sure would like to kiss you before I bust a gut.’
Letting out a spurt of laughter, Bette reached up, put her arms about his neck and kissed him, long and hard, full on the mouth.
A chorus of cheering came from the door. ‘Thank heaven for that,’ boomed Big Fat Josie, a few of her favourite customers gathered about her, clearly enjoying the moment along with her. ‘I thought you two would niver git together, and we ain’t got all day, you’ve got clients waiting.’
‘Nothing is settled yet. I’ve agreed to nothing,’ Bette repeated, laughing nonetheless.
‘Course you ain’t. A gal should play hard to get. But after you’ve done Dolly-May’s hair, we can all set awhile on my porch and talk over how you two is gonna to let me have that retirement I allus dreamed of, and run this ole store for me.’
Chapter Forty-Nine
Later, when Hugh did eventually come home, he didn’t seem to notice that his wife was even quieter than usual. He was, as usual, in a rush to eat and get back to The Ship in time for evening opening, so demanded to know why his meal wasn’t ready.
Sara apologised and ran about shaking and banging pans as if that would make things cook any quicker, acutely aware of Jenny’s eyes upon her, as if her eight year old brain were trying to weigh up the situation.
‘You are completely incompetent, Sara. I believe I shall have to insist upon you giving up this nursing nonsense unless you get much better organised. And the place is filthy, look at that sink, full of dirty pots and pans.’
‘I prepared the meal in a rather a rush. I shall clear it up now, don’t worry. Of course, you could always fill the sink with hot water and wash them for me.’
‘Have you even made the beds? I’m sure you do them perfectly well at the hospital every day, but are the children’s made up, I wonder? They weren’t the other morning.’
‘I overslept. I was tired. It won’t happen again.’
‘I should hope it won’t. Have the children seen you at all today? You’re turning into a slut, Sara, and I will not have it.’
‘Mummy has been playing with us in the garden and we forgot the time, Daddy,’ Jenny chimed up, and Sara met her daughter’s gaze with the uncomfortable feeling that, child or not, she seemed to understand what was going on better than was good for her.
Hugh turned on the child and told her sharply to go to bed this very minute.
‘It’s barely six o’clock, Hugh. Far too soon for bed. Please don’t take your temper out on the children.’
&
nbsp; ‘I’m not in a temper. I’m in despair over your hopelessness.’
‘Perhaps if I had a cleaner, that would help. Or if you got someone else to make the pasties for you, and clean the pub at least. I really don’t think I can go on like this, coping with two jobs, not now that my training is so advanced. I’m exhausted, Hugh. I need help, not criticism.’
‘You are my wife! It is your duty to help me in the business. If you can’t cope, you have only yourself to blame for taking too much on. This sudden passion to become a nurse is really quite pathetic. You aren’t capable of completing the training, let alone passing the exams. Now that you’ve had your little rebellion, I shall expect you to hand in your resignation forthwith, or I will personally go and see your matron and tell her this simply will not do, that I am removing you from the course.’
‘You will do no such thing.’
‘Oh, but I will, Sara. Do not attempt to defy me in this. You are depriving your children of their mother, and me the proper care and attention a husband has the right to expect from a wife. I won’t have it. You’ll give up this nursing nonsense or I may be forced to deprive you of your children.’
Sara said nothing. She had no intention whatsoever of handing in her resignation, and surely, deep down, Hugh must be aware of that fact. She’d stood her ground and won over the committees, hadn’t she? She’d stuck with Nora Snell till the bitter end, and would have her way in this too, with or without his assistance.
But she really didn’t have the energy to fight him right now, not today when all over again she had to cope with losing Charlie.
He sat drumming his fingers impatiently on the table while Sara calmly washed the dirty pans and dishes piled up in the sink, served up the meal and supervised the children. He made no attempt to help her, or pay them the slightest attention.
Jenny and Drew seemed to withdraw into themselves, huddled together in a corner reading the Batman and Superman comics that Charlie had brought for them.
Sara couldn’t help but compare Hugh’s stern demeanour and casual dismissal of his children to that of Charlie, who had hugged and cuddled them quite naturally. Perhaps he always had been this distant, so wrapped up in himself. What kind of an upbringing was that for a child, if their father never openly demonstrated any affection for them? Sadie had been bad enough, always a little distant from her two daughters. Her attitude might have been foolish, but never malicious, as Hugh’s generally were, and she’d improved somewhat lately.
After Charlie had gone, Sara had been in a quandary over how best to deal with his visit. If she told the children not to mention that he’d called, that would appear suspicious. Yet if Drew were to blurt out this sensitive piece of information, in his usual, enthusiastic, little boy way, all hell would break loose. Sara confined herself to sending them warning glances.
In the event, the children said nothing, perhaps sensing their father would be angry and not taking the risk.
Hugh ate his meal in silence, reading the paper at the same time. When finally he left, without a word of thanks or appreciation, all three of them seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief.
Much later, Sara was sitting on the sofa with the children cuddled on her lap, reading William Does His Bit, when there came a knock on the door. Her heart leapt and then steadied as she reminded herself that Charlie had gone. He wouldn’t be coming back.
She opened the door to Cory, who came bouncing into the room, clearly the bearer of some important news or other. Hamil Charke was close behind him, carrying a box.
‘We’ve something to show you,’ Hamil said, and laid the small attaché case on the table before her.
Sara had badly wanted it to be Charlie, except where was the point? It was all too late. She couldn’t quite remember when he’d said his train was leaving but perhaps even now he was on his way to the station. Even if he wasn’t, she still couldn’t go with him. Hugh might continue to be grumpy and morose, as bad tempered and difficult as ever, but nothing had changed.
He would take immense pleasure in depriving her of the children, should she be reckless enough as to make a bid for freedom, or disobey him in any way. This was a weapon he was clearly going to make more and more use of in the future.
She struggled to pay attention to what Cory was saying. ‘What is it? Some flotsam and jetsam you’ve picked up on one of your fishing trips?’
‘You could say so,’ Cory agreed, looking unusually solemn. ‘But this ain’t no flotsam that you’ve ever clapped eyes on, at least I hope you haven’t. We’ve been sitting on it for weeks, in a manner of speaking, but it’s like sitting on a stick of dynamite. Now that peace has been declared, we thought you should see it afore we contact the authorities.’
‘Authorities, what are you talking about?’
‘Send them nippers off to bed, this don’t concern them.’
Drew was pushing himself through the huddle of adults so as not to miss anything. ‘Is that the wireless set Iris used to use?’ The little boy nodded sagely. ‘Yes, that’s the one.’
Sara looked down at her son, and then at the small case, in surprise and bewilderment. ‘What are you talking about?’
Drew looked up at her with all the wisdom of his six years. ‘Didn’t you know, Mummy? Iris used to talk into it sometimes when nobody was watching.’ He put his hand to his mouth to cover a spurt of laughter. ‘At least she thought no one was watching. She never saw me crouching but I saw her once in the stock room, and another time in Daddy’s office.’
Cory nodded. ‘I thought as much. It could be that Hugh knows nothing about this, although we did find it in his boat.’
Hamil Charke cut in, his face sympathetic. ‘He could have held onto it simply to protect Iris, Cory m’boy.’
‘Daddy knew about the wireless,’ interrupted Drew, full of self importance at knowing something the adults didn’t. ‘He was in the office with Iris when she used it.’
Sara sank onto the sofa, not able to take in the implications. ‘What are you suggesting, Dad, that Hugh was some sort of . . .? No, no, he couldn’t possibly be.’
‘Mummy . . .’
‘Hush Drew, that’s enough for now. Let Mummy think.’ Her mind was spinning, crazily searching for clues, for a solution. ‘It’s true that he was always off on some mission or other, that he kept hinting to me about what a hero he was but that he wasn’t allowed to tell me anything. I know the work he did was often risky, dangerous even, but I still believed that he exaggerated, that he loved to boast and make much more of what he did than was actually the case.’
‘Mummy! Mummy!’ Drew was jumping up and down with frustration, desperate to gain her attention. ‘You don’t understand, Mummy. Daddy was a spy.’
‘Don’t be silly darling. Look, you really should go to bed. You too, Jenny.’
Drew ignored the instruction. ‘He let me look through his telescope sometimes, though he would never take me up on the headland. That’s where he used to watch for enemy ships and submarines, and the French navy, no, no the French fishing fleet. Boats that caught men instead of fish. Would they use nets, do you think, Mummy? And he used to come and tell me all about his ‘ops’ when he came home. He told me once that he could get shot for what he’d done. Did he do something really nasty, do you think, Mummy?’
A small silence stretched out for several long seconds after this somewhat garbled explanation, then Hamil Charke calmly remarked, ‘Watch what you say, son.’
‘But the war’s over now,’ Drew said in his piping, innocent voice, ‘so I don’t have to keep it a secret any longer, do I? It doesn’t matter any more.’
‘It does if you tell porkies, darling. I’m sure Daddy didn’t do any such thing. Spy indeed! You’ve been reading too many adventure comics.’
The little boy was appalled that no one believed him. ‘But it’s true. It is, it is. He said that he went over to France lots of times on trips in his boat. Dozens and dozens. Rupert Bear flies to France in his little plane. I like li
stening to stories about Rupert Bear. Does Charlie fly a plane, Mummy? Did Daddy do a bad thing? He wasn’t a traitor, was he? I read about traitors in my William books.’
Sara hunkered down. ‘Hush Drew, darling. You’re getting overtired and rather excited. The French were on our side during the war, so how could Daddy be a traitor? And it would be much too far for him to go over in his boat to France, not as often as you say. I think you must’ve misunderstood.’
‘No, I didn’t!’ Drew gave a weary sigh as if in despair over the stupidity of adults. ‘He saved lots and lots of lives. British pilots escaping from the Nazi’s. He told me.’
Cory said, ‘The boy might be right but this radio transmitter does seem to indicate something much more serious than saving British pilots. Somebody should p’rhaps talk to Iris. Where is she? I haven’t seen her around for a while.’
‘Gone home to Truro to live with her mother.’
‘Or so we’ve been told,’ said Hamil darkly.
Drew piped up again, determined to be heard. ‘He used to get cross with me when I asked why I couldn’t go with him instead of Iris, but once he brought me back a French flag, for my collection. I’ve still got it in my room, so I know he went to France, all the time. He helped agents escape the Nazis. He called them evaders. Except one time he must’ve done something wrong, cos they all died. The only good thing, he said, was that they weren’t British, they were only Americans. He didn’t like Americans. He told me, Mummy, he did, he did. He said he was glad he’d killed them. Pow! Pow! Do you think he used a gun? He made me swear to keep it a secret. And I have Mummy, I have.’
Sara was staring at her son in dismay, struggling to understand the full implication of what he was saying, but something was buzzing in her head, like an angry bee, and she couldn’t seem to take in a single word.
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