The Wind Off the Sea

by Charlotte Bingham

  ‘He won’t allow you to marry John and Mattie in Bexham Church.’

  ‘In a nutshell, Hugh. In a nutshell.’

  ‘Because of the little boy.’

  ‘Of course. Of course. In line with much of current Church thinking he considers the moral fibre of this country has been damaged and that steps must be taken to repair the fabric.’

  ‘Which means not allowing two young people who are very much in love the pleasure and the blessing of a church wedding.’

  ‘In a nutshell, Hugh – in a nutshell.’

  ‘Are these your feelings, too? Do you go along with that sort of reactionary claptrap?’

  ‘Me? Me?’ Stephen squeaked. ‘Good Lord no – you know me, Hugh. You know me.’

  ‘I thought I did,’ Hugh replied. ‘But if you’re telling me you have to stand in line with this ruling, then I don’t know you at all.’

  ‘It isn’t me, Hugh,’ Stephen protested. ‘It’s the way these things are.’

  ‘I honestly thought our friend Waldo had stopped you running along mental tram lines.’

  Stephen looked duly ashamed, blushed and stared even harder at the carpet. ‘I don’t think we have much choice really.’

  ‘Oh, I think we do. What would happen if you just went ahead and married John and Mattie?’

  ‘What would happen?’

  ‘Yes, Stephen. What would happen? God wouldn’t descend from heaven in a fiery chariot, surely. Would He? And smite you dead? Smite the lot of us dead in fact for having the nerve to marry two people who are very much in love in a church when one of them has a child already? Didn’t Jesus say suffer the little children? Isn’t the Bible full of warnings about those who do harm to the most innocent? You tell me, Stephen, because you’re the expert on these matters. I’m just an old sailor who believes that God is good and merciful and that sometimes the Church is full of a lot of old hooey.’

  ‘I see,’ Stephen said, swallowing and now staring up at the ceiling. ‘I see.’

  ‘So what are you going to do?’

  ‘What am I going to do?’

  ‘Yes. You. Because if you don’t do something, you’re going to be looking at a half-empty church in future.’

  ‘I’m generally looking at a half-empty church, Hugh.’

  ‘You’re going to be looking at half of that half-empty church!’

  ‘This is a sort of blackmail, isn’t it?’

  ‘While what the Church is saying isn’t?’

  ‘Ah.’ Stephen nodded. ‘Ah.’

  ‘Ah ha,’ Hugh agreed. ‘Ah ha.’

  ‘Then married they shall be,’ Stephen decided. ‘In Bexham Church. By me.’

  ‘And God will not descend in a fiery chariot.’

  ‘I very much doubt it. And if He does, it’ll make a nice story for the Bexham Echo.’

  ‘And what do you think will happen to you?’

  ‘I shall get hauled over the coals. And I shall get reprimanded by the new bishop.’

  ‘Is that all?’

  ‘It had better be. Because if they try anything else I shall hand in my collar.’

  ‘Good man,’ Hugh said. ‘That’s the spirit. Why?’

  ‘Because you’re right, Hugh, that’s why,’ Stephen replied earnestly. ‘Because otherwise there was no point in us fighting the war.’

  Chapter Sixteen

  For once in her life Meggie did as she was told. She obeyed Dr Wright’s orders to the letter and the consequence was that after her first week of enforced rest and all the medicines she felt considerably improved. Her cough had all but gone, her appetite was returning, albeit in a diminished form, the pains in her chest had disappeared and she was sleeping better. Even the deep exhaustion from which she had been suffering seemed to be on the wane, prompting Rusty to remark that she was really beginning to look herself again.

  Meggie thought it wasn’t only the medication that was helping her recovery, but also the couple of transatlantic telephone calls she had received from Waldo, however indistinct they might have been. Besides the fact that he loved her, which he shouted down the line at every possible opportunity, she also gathered that if all continued to go as well as it was he would be home earlier than intended, particularly since he intended to fly home by stratocruiser. Meggie, who hated the thought of him flying the Atlantic, for once didn’t press him to come home by boat, so anxious was she to be reunited with him.

  ‘I love you, Meggie!’ he shouted for the last time. ‘Next time you hear me I’ll be calling up the stairs!’

  Six days later Meggie was awoken from her afternoon sleep by someone kissing her tenderly on the lips.

  ‘Hiya, honey,’ whispered an all too familiar voice. ‘Bad luck! I’m home.’

  Meggie stared at him, blinking her eyes, trying to make sure this wasn’t a dream, that the dark-eyed man sitting beside her on the bed really was Waldo.

  ‘You might have waited to come home until I was up,’ she said, staring at him. ‘You’re not seeing me at my best.’

  ‘This is the best as far as I’m concerned, darling.’ He smiled. ‘I wouldn’t care if I found you down the coal hole covered in soot. You look beautiful.’

  ‘I look as if I’ve just woken up,’ Meggie complained, looking past him at her reflection in the distant mirror. ‘And look at my hair.’

  ‘I could do with a bath and a shave myself,’ Waldo said. ‘As well as a change of clothes. Why don’t I pop back home and freshen up – and meet you back here for cocktails? I’m sure you’ve got a lot to tell me.’

  ‘I have? About what?’

  ‘About how much you missed me. And about how much you love me.’

  ‘And what have you got in your beak for me, mister?’

  ‘Just you wait and see.’

  * * *

  After she had bathed, Meggie stood in her best silk underwear in front of her wardrobe wondering what to wear for the evening. She had just decided to take down one of the simple black taffeta short evening dresses that she knew Waldo loved and that she knew set off her colouring to the best advantage when her eye fell on another of Waldo’s favourites, the dress he claimed she was wearing the moment he knew he was in love with her, the night of the Regatta when she had been serving behind the packed bar, her old red silk dress with the puffed sleeves.

  She took it down and held it up to herself in the mirror. She’d had it cleaned since that night and even though it was old, and perhaps even a little old-fashioned, the colour still did wonders for her, as did the cut, once she had slipped into it. She had lost a little weight, but Meggie thought that was all to the good since the dress now fitted her to perfection. This time at her neck she added one of her grandmother’s beautiful necklaces, tiny diamonds shaped like a small pendant which showed off the elegance of her slender neck and somehow seemed to bring even more colour to the dress.

  ‘I am at a loss for words,’ Waldo said when he saw her. ‘And before you say anything about pigs flying I mean it. You look just out of the world.’

  ‘You look pretty handsome too,’ Meggie said, taking him by the hand and leading him over to the drinks. ‘I like you best in everything you wear.’

  ‘That’s clever – I must remember that.’

  ‘No point – wouldn’t be true about everybody. But it’s true about you. You look wonderful in everything.’ She kissed him, touched his cheek with one of her long-fingered, elegant hands, which he grabbed at once to kiss in the palm, and then asked him to make the drinks.

  ‘Is it OK you drinking?’ he asked. ‘Aren’t you taking medication?’

  ‘Henry didn’t say anything about not drinking.’

  ‘It’s Henry now, is it? I think I’ll put a ban on any further housecalls.’

  ‘You don’t have to worry. He’s only called here twenty-three times. Or is it twenty-four?’

  ‘And how does he think his patient is?’

  ‘He thinks his patient is gorgeous.’

  ‘How does he think her general health is?’r />
  ‘As gorgeous as she is. Now make me the perfect dry Martini. I always put too much vermouth in mine. How’s your health, by the way?’

  ‘Mine?’ Waldo picked up the gin bottle. ‘Couldn’t be better. Why should you enquire about my health? There’s not been anything wrong with me.’

  ‘That’s what you think,’ Meggie teased, poker-faced.

  ‘Did Henry say anything to you?’ Waldo asked with a frown, pouring a tiny measure of vermouth into the shaker.

  ‘Why should Henry say anything to me about you?’ Meggie laughed. ‘Unless there is something wrong—’

  ‘I told you,’ Waldo interrupted. ‘Henry looked after me after I’d been shot. When I got back. I had a check up with him before I went away.’

  ‘I know you did. No need to be ratty.’

  ‘I wasn’t being ratty.’ Waldo grinned, shaking the cocktails. ‘I just didn’t want you worrying, that’s all.’

  ‘I’m not worried.’

  ‘Good. And neither am I.’ Waldo leaned over and kissed her, then poured them both the perfect cocktail.

  ‘To you,’ Waldo said, holding up his glass. ‘To the most intoxicating thing I know. Martinis included.’

  ‘To you,’ Meggie returned. ‘May your shadow never grow less.’

  ‘I like that. Where did you get that?’

  ‘I have an Irish uncle.’

  They sipped their delicious drinks then moved over to sit opposite each other by the fireside.

  ‘You really do look amazing,’ Waldo said. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen a vision quite so lovely.’

  ‘Thank you. But keep your looks strictly above knee level.’

  ‘Knee level? And miss out on those glorious legs?’

  ‘My legs are not always what they should be!’

  ‘They look pretty wonderful to me.’

  ‘How. I. Have. Missed. You.’

  Meggie smiled and raised her glass. ‘Let me count the ways. In the morning—’

  ‘In the evening,’ Waldo put in.

  ‘All the time,’ Meggie finished, simply. Waldo kissed her. Meggie smiled. ‘So tell me all about your trip. Did you bring me home anything nice? I do hope you brought me something indescribably unrepeatably gorgeous?’

  ‘Pretty much so,’ Waldo agreed. ‘I brought you back an unencumbered me.’

  ‘Unencumbered?’ Meggie frowned at him. ‘Don’t get. What do you mean?’

  ‘I have come back …’ Waldo said, ‘a free man.’

  ‘So why didn’t you tell me?’ Meggie demanded later over dinner.

  ‘Why on earth do you imagine? I’d fallen in love with you. I didn’t want to lose you.’

  ‘But supposing she hadn’t suddenly granted you a divorce for whatever the reason was—’

  ‘She had good reason.’

  ‘No, but what would you have done, Waldo? If someone just refuses—’

  ‘I’d have asked you to live in sin with me instead.’

  ‘Instead of what?’

  ‘Marrying me.’

  ‘You haven’t asked me to marry you.’

  ‘Yet. Would now be a good time?’

  ‘She sounds absolutely frightful, your thankfully ex-wife. How on earth did you come to marry her in the first place?’

  ‘Will you marry me?’

  ‘I can’t understand how you could have been so duped.’

  ‘Will you marry me?’

  ‘I mean you of all people—’

  ‘I didn’t know anything about women. I was a lamb to the slaughter. The moment we married she changed – seriously. One minute she was all sweetness and innocence and the next minute – oh boy. She was out there – on the prowl. I imagine the condition has a medical name. Now for the last time, will you marry me?’

  ‘Well of course I will,’ Meggie replied, almost grumpily. ‘Now tell me all over again how you two met.’

  He had brought her back a ring, a single diamond like Mattie’s, but considerably larger. He had also brought her a diamond brooch to match, and a diamond necklace just in case she said yes. He made her put the necklace on then he led her upstairs, took off her clothes and made love to her in only the necklace.

  ‘When would you like to get married, Meggie?’ he wondered as they lay together in the darkness.

  ‘Would yesterday be too soon?’

  ‘Not soon enough. I shall start putting all the arrangements in hand immediately.’

  ‘I have an idea,’ Meggie said the next morning as they ate breakfast.

  ‘You look tired,’ Waldo said. ‘I kept you up too late.’

  ‘You look tired as well. I kept you up too late.’ ‘By the way, what did the good doctor Henry say about making love?’

  ‘Making love isn’t something Englishmen recognise.’

  ‘I’m sure he must have said something about too much excitement.’

  ‘Excitement isn’t something Englishmen recognise.’

  With his bare foot Waldo found her bare leg under the table and gently booted it.

  ‘You know what I mean.’

  ‘Now what was your big idea, darling?’

  ‘Mattie and John are getting married soon. Why don’t we get married on the same day?’

  ‘And have a double wedding? Isn’t that the sort of idea people like you go ooer at? I know I do. Anyway, it wouldn’t be fair to crowd their act.’

  It was Meggie’s turn to kick him under the table.

  ‘Ow,’ Waldo said. ‘That was my war wound.’

  ‘Very funny. I didn’t mean a double wedding. I can’t think of anything more ooer. Anyway, they wouldn’t let the likes of you get married in a church. You’re divorced, spit, spit. We could do a Register office job then share a huge great splendiferous, fantasmaganic, and absolutely magnifichentous knees-up. We do have all the same friends – know all the same people. At least I do. You don’t have any friends at all and don’t know anybody.’

  ‘Could be, could be,’ Waldo said, thinking about it. ‘Have to ask John and Mattie though.’

  ‘Well of course we’re going to ask John and Mattie!’ Meggie exclaimed. ‘You don’t think we’re just going to turn up at their reception and help ourselves.’

  ‘I think we might be getting an invitation to the wedding anyway,’ Waldo said poker-faced. ‘And that means the reception as well – where all our friends will be – so why bother telling them? They’ll only make us pay half.’

  Meggie couldn’t hold a straight face any longer and burst into laughter, followed by Waldo. Unfortunately the laughing caused a coughing fit and Waldo was quickly despatched up to Meggie’s bedroom to fetch a foul-tasting linctus and a phial of bright red pills, which he did, trying not to look worried.

  ‘Ta muchly,’ Meggie gasped, after she had dosed herself. ‘I haven’t had a coughing fit since God knows when. All your fault, making me laugh.’

  ‘Then that’s a good sign,’ Waldo said, lifting her gently up from her chair. ‘But even so, I think after that we’d better go back to the book and have you put your feet up.’

  ‘Henry said I’d have to get worse before I got better, so here I am – being worse.’

  ‘Don’t you dare get any worse.’

  ‘Any worse? Look at me! Look, I’m fine, really, Waldo, I’m fine!’ Meggie protested. ‘I’m as right as rain, though why rain’s right searchez moi. I really am all right. In fact I feel so good I feel like dancing. So come on, let’s dance.’

  ‘OK – we’ll dance.’

  Waldo took her in his arms and smooched her slowly round the kitchen once and then out into the hall and then, lifting her up in his arms, carried her all the way upstairs.

  ‘But this time no excitement,’ he whispered as he laid her down on her bed. ‘Just one kiss, that’s all.’

  There were six kisses, but no matter because that really was all. Two minutes after he had kissed her for the last time, Meggie fell into a deep and happy, if exhausted, sleep.

  All the Tates, young and older, were
delighted when Waldo called and proposed the notion. Waldo went by himself because Meggie and he were agreed that if she was to be restored to her bonny self by the date set for their wedding then she must abide strictly by Henry Wright’s orders, and they included no further excitement, at least not until they were married. Promising to return the next day to discuss the plans and the guest list, Waldo ambled off.

  ‘I hope Waldo’s all right,’ Loopy said to Hugh after she had watched him drive away from the house. ‘He doesn’t look quite well.’

  ‘He’s just flown all the way back from America, Loopy,’ Hugh said. ‘And what with the time difference and the length of the flight a chap’s bound to look a bit washed out.’

  ‘He doesn’t look washed out, Hugh,’ Loopy said. ‘It’s his eyes. He looks simply dreadful. Next time you see him, take a good look at the dark shadows under his eyes. As well as the look in them.’

  * * *

  Hugh did, and of course being Hugh saw nothing to trouble him. He had often seen Waldo coming off duty, as it were, and on those occasions according to Hugh he looked a whole lot worse, so a few shadows under a chap’s eyes weren’t going to concern the Spymaster whatsoever. In fact the more he saw Waldo the better he thought he looked and said as much to Loopy, who was forced to agree that perhaps she had been fussing too much.

  ‘Even so, Hugh, believe me, I know,’ she said in conclusion. ‘Something’s troubling him.’

  ‘Wedding bell jitters, I’ll be bound.’ Hugh grunted. ‘Remember me? Couldn’t even eat my soup without spilling it. All Waldo’s suffering from is the well known Wedding Bell Jits.’

  By the time the month of May rolled in after a sodden April, the weather had suddenly turned to full spring. The plan was for the two couples to get married on the same day, Waldo and Meggie going first to be wed at the register office in Churchester at midday, accompanied only by a small party of friends which included the Sykeses and Walter and Judy Tate. Lionel to act as Waldo’s best man. They didn’t invite anyone else because they knew that everyone else would be too busy getting ready for the big church wedding to be held at three o’clock, so in spite of some hearty and heavy protestations from the Tate clan Meggie and Waldo insisted it was all for the best and stuck to their plan.