A Song At Twilight

by Lilian Harry

  ‘You must feel very proud of your country,’ Alison said to Stefan. ‘It was the Poles who took it in the end.’

  ‘And our flag is flying over the ruins of the monastery,’ he agreed, looking at the newspaper she held. ‘A shame that such a fine and ancient building should have to be destroyed first. And how many more are there? Towns like Cassino, like London and Coventry, like Warsaw – even like Berlin. The world will never be the same again.’

  ‘It will be rebuilt,’ she said. ‘They’re already making plans to rebuild Plymouth as a modern city, with wide streets and boulevards, quite different from the narrow streets and poky shops they had before. I know we’ll all have lost a lot, but there must be gains as well.’

  ‘Yes,’ he said, looking at the newspaper again. ‘But at what cost?’

  Alison was silent. She knew that he must be thinking of his family. What had been happening to them during the past five long years? What would he find when the war was over at last?

  Stefan laid the paper aside and turned to her. ‘Let’s think of something more cheerful. This may be the last chance I have to come to see you for a while.’

  ‘Is that supposed to cheer me up?’ she asked, laughing at him, and he smiled.

  ‘I hope not. I just meant that we should spend these last hours more pleasantly together. The Invasion is very close now, you know.’

  ‘I know,’ she said soberly. The whole area was becoming like an armed camp, with American troops and vehicles advancing steadily towards the beaches. It must be the same all along the south coast, she thought, and wondered just how many thousands of men were going to cross the Channel.

  ‘I think all our leave will be stopped,’ he continued. ‘Nobody knows just when it will be and they will want everyone on duty all the time. In any case, it is Andrew who you will want at your side now. This is going to be a difficult time for you, Alison.’

  ‘I’m sure I’ll be all right,’ she said, wishing she could sound more certain. ‘I’ve got plenty of people to look after me.’

  ‘But it’s your husband you need most. He’s the one who should be with you at a time like this.’ He moved to sit beside her on the sofa, and took her hands in his. ‘I wish I could do more, Alison. I wish I could be here when he is not. Neighbours are all very well, May Prettyjohn is a good and stalwart friend, but you need a man with you.’

  Alison turned her head and looked at him. Their faces were very close; she could see the afternoon light reflected in the silver sheen of his eyes. As she stared at him, they seemed to change, to deepen as the pupils grew wide and black, and she caught her breath. For a moment her heart seemed to pause, then start again more quickly. Then she drew back.

  ‘I’m sure I’ll be all right,’ she said again, her voice shaking a little. ‘You really don’t need to worry, Stefan. I’m much more worried about you. You will take care, won’t you? And if you’re right about not being able to leave the station for the next few weeks – you will come and see me the first chance you have? And try to let me know that you’re all right.’

  Before she could say any more, he had kissed her cheek, so lightly that it was as if a butterfly had brushed its wings against her skin. Then he stood up.

  ‘I must go now. I will see you again when all this is over. But I will be thinking of you, and hoping that all goes well for you.’

  She pushed herself to her feet. ‘Goodbye, Stefan. Take care. Please, take care.’

  She hesitated, then lifted her hands to his cheeks. For a moment or two, he stayed very still. He took her wrists and held them lightly in his fingers; then he moved away.

  ‘I’ll see you again soon, Alison. I promise I’ll see you again soon.’

  Andrew came home that evening and told her the same thing.

  ‘All leave’s stopped from tomorrow. We’re on readiness for D-Day.’

  ‘D-Day?’

  ‘It just means “Day”,’ he explained. ‘H is for Hour and D for Day. Nobody knows the date. We won’t know until it’s here. But from now on, we’ve all got to be in position, ready. It’s all or nothing this time, darling. If this one fails – well, God knows what will happen.’

  ‘Oh, Andrew,’ she said, tightening her hands on his. ‘I’m afraid for you. If anything happens to you now …’

  ‘It won’t.’ He smiled at her, and she saw that he was aglow with confidence and excitement. ‘Nothing’s going to happen to me – nothing.’

  ‘You’re looking forward to it,’ she accused him, and he shrugged ruefully.

  ‘Darling, I can’t help it. It’s my job, but it’s more than that. We’ve been fighting our way through this war like an ant fighting through treacle. As fast as we gain ground in one place, we lose it somewhere else. But this is the big push. All the Services are working together to drive the Jerries back on their heels. All the countries, too – America, Russia and now Italy, and all the others who have joined in. This is going to be the moment that goes down in history, the moment when we really began to win the war. D-Day.’ His eyes were gleaming, his voice low and fervent. ‘It’ll be talked of a hundred years from now. And I’ll have been a part of it!’

  Their eyes met and held. Alison felt a stirring within her, a strange, quivering feeling of excitement, as if she were sharing the emotion he had always told her he felt in the sky. That grand, soaring sensation that Stefan had described as ‘dancing with the stars’.

  ‘I wish I could come too!’ she exclaimed impulsively, and her husband laughed.

  ‘You will, my darling. Once this damned war’s over, I’ll take you flying with me. You’ll know then what it’s like.’ He jumped up and caught her hands, pulling her to her feet. ‘Let’s go to bed. I just want to lie close to you and hold you. I want you in my arms all night, to give me something to remember while I’m flying. I want to be able to remember what every little inch of you feels like.’

  ‘We’d better start at once, then,’ she said with a smile. ‘There are rather a lot of inches now.’

  ‘And I love every one,’ he said sincerely, putting his arms around her. ‘I love every single one.’

  It was three in the morning when she woke to find her nightdress soaked and the bed wet.

  For a few moments, she could not think what had happened. Then she sat up and shook her husband’s shoulder. ‘Andrew! Andrew, wake up! The baby – it’s started. My waters have broken.’

  He shook himself as he surfaced from sleep, like a dog emerging from a stream. An instant later he was awake, sliding from the bed. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes. I’m soaked. Andrew, we’ve got to get to the maternity home quickly.’

  ‘Right.’ He was dressing already. ‘Have you got your things ready?’

  ‘My case is in Hughie’s room. Oh – Hughie! What are we going to do?’

  ‘It’s all arranged, remember? I’ll get Mrs Potter to come in and spend the rest of the night here, and I’ll come back and tell May in the morning. She’ll look after him then. Put on your dressing-gown, darling, and I’ll give Mrs P a knock now. When she comes in, I’ll go and get the car. We’ll be on our way in a few minutes.’

  ‘Andrew …’

  ‘It’s all right,’ he said, holding his wife for a moment. ‘Don’t be frightened, sweetheart. Everything’s going to be all right.’

  ‘I’m so glad you’re here,’ she whispered, burying her face against his chest. ‘I was so afraid it would happen when you were away. Oh, Andrew – if only it’s born quickly. If only you could still be with me. I hope—’

  ‘I hope so too,’ he said, and took her wrists in his hands, pushing her gently from him. ‘Now, you tidy yourself up and I’ll go and knock up next door. I’ll be back in a few minutes.’ He gave her an anxious, searching look. ‘Are you getting any pains?’

  ‘No, nothing. I just feel a bit odd. Go on, then. But please don’t be long.’

  ‘I’ll be back before you know I’m gone,’ he promised, and took the stairs in three leaps. A moment later, s
he heard the front door open and then a furious hammering next door.

  She stood by the bed, quite still for a moment, holding her swollen stomach. It was happening at last. The baby was coming. If it came quickly enough, Andrew would be able to see it.

  ‘You can stay in the waiting room if you like,’ the Matron said doubtfully, ‘but I don’t think your baby is going to be born yet. There are no contractions at all.’

  ‘But the waters have broken. Surely that means it won’t be long?’

  ‘I’m afraid it doesn’t follow. Usually it means the birth is imminent, I agree, but I’ve known women go days – as long as a week – after the waters have broken. It’s not very pleasant for the mother, because it means a dry birth and that can be more uncomfortable, but there’s really nothing we can do about it. Babies have to come in their own time.’ Andrew gazed at her despairingly. ‘There isn’t anything you can do to speed things up?’

  The Matron’s lips stiffened. ‘No, there’s not. We only take those measures when the baby’s overdue or there’s some risk in waiting. Your wife’s in no danger and neither is the baby, and it isn’t due for another two weeks. So …’

  ‘Two weeks!’ he exclaimed. ‘You won’t let her go that long, surely?’

  ‘Perhaps not as long as that, no. But as I’ve said, it’s not uncommon for a woman to go several days, even a week, after the waters break.’

  ‘All right, I get the gist.’ He turned away, frustrated and dejected. ‘I’ll wait here for a while, but I’ve got to go back on duty at seven. I’ll be able to see her before I go, won’t I?’

  ‘Probably. Unless she’s already in labour, of course. We never allow husbands into the ward then.’ The Matron saw his face and took pity on him. ‘But I really don’t think she will be. I’m sure you’ll be able to see your wife before you go.’

  Andrew went into the tiny waiting room and sat down. He leaned forwards, rested his elbows on his thighs and let his hands hang down between his knees. His head drooped with the weariness that came from the sudden awakening and the anxiety of getting Alison here as quickly as possible, followed by the sharp disappointment of finding that the baby might not be coming yet after all. But Alison would have to stay here now. The Matron had said quite firmly that she couldn’t be allowed home again, as labour might start at any moment and could be very quick. At least, he thought, she’s safe. At least she’ll be in the right place when it does start.

  If only the baby could be born before he left …

  Of all the people in the world that night, Alison and Andrew’s new baby seemed to be in the least hurry. At six o’clock, there was still no change and Andrew decided that he would have to leave so as to have time to see May and Hughie before going back to the station. Matron allowed him into the tiny slip of a room where Alison was waiting in the high hospital bed, and he put his arms around his wife and hugged her against him.

  ‘It’s all right, sweetheart,’ he murmured as she burst into tears. ‘Everything’s going to be fine. You’re not to worry about a thing. They’ll look after you in here, and Hughie will be perfectly OK with the Prettyjohns. You just rest and be ready for our baby when it comes.’

  ‘When it comes,’ she wept. ‘I feel as if it’s never going to come. It’s like being teased – it’s cruel, doing this and then not being born.’

  ‘It’s not the baby’s fault,’ he said, laughing a little. ‘If you talk like that, it’ll be afraid to be born at all. It won’t want to arrive to a telling-off before it’s even finished its first cry.’

  ‘Well, no, of course I’m not blaming the baby,’ she admitted, smiling through her tears. ‘I don’t know who I’m blaming. My silly body, I suppose, for not behaving as it should. Matron says it could be days before anything else happens.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘And I’ve got to stay in bed all that time. She says my blood pressure’s gone up as well.’

  ‘Darling, they know what’s best for you. And the doctor will be here later on too. You must do as they say.’

  ‘I know. I will. I just wish – oh well, if wishes were horses, beggars would ride, that’s what May would say if she were here. You will see that Hughie’s all right, won’t you? You must tell him where I am. He’ll be frightened if he wakes up and I’m not there.’

  ‘I will. I’m going to do that now. I’ll go round to the Prettyjohns’ straight from here and collect May and take her home. She’ll be ready, won’t she?’

  ‘Yes. She knows it could happen at any time – any other night, she’d have been with me. And Mrs Potter will help too. We’re so lucky to have such good friends and neighbours, Andrew.’

  ‘We are.’ He kissed her tenderly. ‘Now, I’ll come back and see you the first minute I can, and May will be here too. You’re still not getting any pains?’

  ‘No. I wish I were. I’d love to be having pains now!’ She held him for a moment, then looked up, her eyes filled with tears but her mouth firm. ‘Go on, darling. Go now. quickly.’

  He nodded, then gave her a last, quick kiss. His final glimpse of Alison was of a mound of white hospital sheets, pillows and blankets, and a face that was pale but smiling. At the door, he hesitated, half-inclined to go back, but she shook her head and waved him away. He closed the door and walked down the corridor.

  Matron came out of her office as he approached. Her strong face was sympathetic.

  ‘Your wife is in good hands, Squadron Leader. We’ll take great care of her.’

  Andrew nodded. ‘I know. I’m sorry I was impatient earlier.’

  She dismissed his apology with a quick wave of one hand. ‘Don’t apologise. It was perfectly natural. An anxious time for you both. Now, you have our telephone number, don’t you? Ring later on this morning – say, at lunchtime – and we’ll tell you if there’s any news. And try not to worry. I’m sure everything is going to be all right. Your wife is a healthy young woman and she’s already had one baby. I don’t think there are going to be any problems at all.’

  ‘Thank you,’ he said, and shook her hand. Then he went out into the brightness of the spring morning and got into the little Morris 8.

  His next task was to fetch May and take her home, to look after Hughie. After that, he would be back on duty. All leave would be stopped from the moment he drove through the airfield gate.

  He had no idea when he would see Alison, or Hughie again. He had no idea when he would first set eyes on his new son, or daughter.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  It was two more days before Alison’s baby was born.

  During those two long days, Andrew was in a fever of impatience, anxiety and frustration. He went to see his Group Commander and even the Station Commander, but both said the same thing. ‘Sorry, Squadron Leader. We can’t give you leave to go and see your wife. You’re not the only man in this position, you know. There are at least half a dozen whose wives are expecting to give birth soon, and more than that who have children they’ve never seen. We can’t give you special treatment.’

  ‘But she’s only two miles down the road,’ Andrew said desperately. ‘I could be there and back in less than an hour. Half an hour.’

  ‘It still wouldn’t be fair on the other men,’ he was told. And he had to admit that in his heart he knew they were right. Not that it made it any easier.

  ‘None of us can leave the station,’ he said later to Stefan as they sat in the mess, smoking and playing cards to pass the time. ‘I realise that. It’s just that she’s so close …’

  ‘I know.’ Stefan was just as concerned. He had happened to be the only one in the mess, sitting at the breakfast table, when Andrew had arrived, anxious and unshaven, from taking Alison to the hospital. Dismayed, he had listened to the account of their hurried rush and the Matron’s assessment of the situation. ‘But it’s taking so long. Can’t they even give you some compassionate leave?’

  ‘I asked,’ Andrew said gloomily, ‘but she’s not in danger, you see. If she were, they might �
� but I can’t be dishonest about it. It’s not fair to the other men.’

  ‘I don’t really see that,’ the Pole said. ‘What good does it do to anyone else to deprive you? What harm would it do to them, to let you go?’

  ‘It’s about morale. And it’s about being fair to everyone. It doesn’t do to give men something to grumble about. They grumble enough as it is – we don’t need to give them a real grievance as well!’

  Stefan shrugged. If Alison were his wife, he thought, he would tear down the fences of hell, let alone an airfield, to get to her at this time. But Andrew was right. Nobody was allowed off the station now without special permission, and it didn’t seem likely that this would be granted.

  The worst of it was, as they all knew but didn’t say, that Andrew might never see his baby. He might not live long enough.

  Three times a day, he rang the maternity home. It was the first thing he did in the mornings, as soon as the Matron allowed. He rang again after lunch and again in the evening. On each occasion, he was told that nothing had happened. Alison was comfortable, and the doctor was satisfied. There was nothing they could do but wait.

  ‘Wait!’ he fumed, coming away from the telephone after lunch. ‘She’s been in there two days now. How long are we supposed to bloody wait? Why can’t they do something?’

  ‘They will if they think they should,’ Robin Fairbanks reassured him. ‘Look, Andy, I know it’s hard but she’s in the best place possible. You ought to be thankful you were able to take her in and see her settled. You’d be in an even worse state if she were still at home.’

  Andrew glared at him, then conceded that this was probably true. ‘All the same, it’s actually started, hasn’t it, so why can’t they just move things along a bit? The baby must be ready to be born. I mean, it’s got all its fingers and toes and everything. What difference will a day or two make?’

  Robin shrugged. ‘Don’t ask me. I’ve never had a baby! But there must be some reason why it starts – some sort of trigger. Seems to me you’ve just got to wait for it and there’s nothing else you can do.’