by Rosie Harris
‘You all right, mate?’
The driver of the army lorry jumped from his cab and came running to the car.
‘I think so,’ Robert muttered. ‘I’ll just get out and have a look.’
‘Smashed your wing in pretty badly,’ the driver commiserated. ‘Hang about and I’ll get a couple of the lads to help, we might be able to straighten it out. We’ll get a brew going. You look as though you need something,’ he said nodding in Kate’s direction.
Within minutes Kate’s car had been pushed onto the grass verge and half a dozen khaki figures were at work on it under Robert’s wary eye.
Kate sheltered from the drizzle inside the back of one of the trucks and sipped strong sweet tea from a tin mug someone had pushed into her trembling hands. By the time Robert returned to report that apart from a dented wing there was no real damage her nerves had steadied. Even so, she made no objection when he took over the wheel. She knew the mishap had been her fault and she was still feeling shaky.
‘We’ll be in London in less than an hour,’ Robert announced. ‘Shall we stop for a meal? You don’t have to report back until tomorrow and I still have another two days’ leave so neither of us is in any hurry.’
‘What?’ Kate looked at him blankly. Then, as Robert’s words registered, she shook her head.
‘Why not? Are you all that anxious to get rid of me! I can understand it in a way. I did rather put my foot in things with your father.’
‘It wasn’t really your fault, but if I had known what you intended to do I would have warned you it was not the right moment.’
‘But it hasn’t changed your feelings?’ he asked cautiously.
‘How could it!’ She reached out and squeezed his arm reassuringly.
‘Then let’s stop off somewhere … just for a meal,’ he added hastily, afraid she might feel he was pressurising her. ‘It would give us a chance to plan what we are going to do.’
‘Can’t it wait until we get back to London?’
‘No! If we do that we’ll both end up back in Barracks feeling we’ve spoiled each other’s leave. Let’s talk things over, and make some plans for the future.’
‘Where do you want to stop?’
‘I don’t know. I’m sure we can find somewhere pleasant. The rain seems to be stopping. I’m not too sure where we are, mind you.’
‘Just outside Reading. Perhaps we can find somewhere near the river,’ Kate told him.
In the end, they lunched on Woolton pie and spotted dick smothered in a thin ersatz custard, in a small café in Marlow High Street. Afterwards, they walked along the towpath towards Medmenham. The wide smooth stretch of the Thames was so peaceful that it was hard to believe that bomb-shattered London was no more than an hour’s drive away.
As they sauntered back, squinting against the brightness of the sun on the sparkling sheet of water, admiring the slim spire of the church and the graceful lines of the suspension bridge alongside it, they saw the hotel.
It sprawled on the far side of the bridge, its green lawns dipping right into the Thames. It was old and mellow and welcoming.
Relaxed, and once more in harmony after their quiet stroll, they looked at each other enquiringly, the same idea in both their minds.
‘We could just ask if they had any rooms,’ Robert murmured.
There was only one room available. A small double on the third floor, its tiny window tucked up into the eaves but with a wonderful view out over the river.
‘It’s fine,’ Robert told the porter in a firm voice. He turned to Kate. ‘Wait here and I’ll bring up our things from the car.’
Left alone, she felt a surge of panic. What was she doing! She had only known Robert for a few weeks and here she was planning to spend the night with him. She had never even contemplated anything like this in her life before. Her parents would be outraged if they knew.
There was still time to change her mind. The thought of returning to Barracks two days early made her hesitate and then it was too late. Robert was back carrying both their kitbags.
‘We won’t need those,’ she said in a tight voice. ‘We don’t need our uniforms!’
‘I know,’ he grinned, ‘but I thought it would look better if we appeared to have some luggage. Not that I suppose anyone will give a damn as long as we pay for the room. It’s only four o’clock. What do you want to do? I’ve booked an evening meal but that’s not until seven.’
‘We … we could go for another walk. I’ll just freshen up first.’
When she came back from the bathroom she found Robert had taken off his shoes, jacket and tie and was lying on the bed with his eyes closed. He was breathing with a deep rhythm, almost as if he was asleep. As she moved closer he suddenly opened his eyes and reached out, grabbing her, and pulling her down onto the bed.
She started to struggle but he was so powerful that her muscles turned to rubber beneath his grasp. As he pinioned her to the bed, and rolled over so that he was lying partially on top of her, Kate’s only struggle was for breath. As his mouth came down over hers, she felt a slow tingling of desire spread through her limbs and a small moan of surrender escaped her parted lips.
His green eyes gleaming, Robert slowly drew away and raised himself on one elbow so that he could look down at her. With a forefinger he gently outlined her brow, pushing the dark hair back behind her small, neat ears. Tenderly he kissed the tip of her straight nose, traced the curve of her cheekbones and chin, then ran his finger down the length of her throat until it met the neckline of her dress.
‘Take this off!’
The whispered request startled her. A flicker of fear shadowed her dark eyes. Before she could voice her objection his mouth was covering hers, transporting her back into a sea of desire where pulsing waves of longing submerged her reticence.
His lips were gentle, tender and sensuous as they saluted every inch of her body, implanting light kisses spasmodically, wherever his eyes lingered.
Kate felt a mounting passion invading her entire being, rocking her senses. Her shyness forgotten her fingers began to undo the buttons of his shirt.
He released her just long enough to shed his clothes, dropping them into a heap on the floor. Without the warmth of his body against hers she felt a sudden chill and with it came sobering thoughts about what she was doing – a feeling of guilt.
The moment passed as Robert took her in his arms again, his long lean body a burning fire that re-kindled the erotic desire within her.
With quick-breathing eagerness his hands began exploring her body. As he felt the tips of her breasts hardening his own body responded.
His need built up into a crescendo. Strange heats burst inside him with every throb of his pulse and every breath he drew so that he found it hard to control his actions. With great tenderness he kissed her throat while his hands stroked and prepared her. His love for Kate was so great that he wanted to make this first occasion something she would remember with joy.
He sensed the passion building up in her, and that she was aroused and ready for him. The last delicious shuddering moments came on them simultaneously. It was a blending of minds and bodies, a unique joining of hearts, more permanent than any marriage ceremony. Vitality flowed from one to the other, like intermingling electric currents. And when it ended neither of them spoke, they simply clung to each other, overcome by the magic of the moment.
They made love again before they went down to dinner. Afterwards they strolled along the towpath, hands entwined, watching the silver crescent of the moon reflected on the shimmering River Thames.
They said very little. It was a moment for dreaming, for relishing what they had, not for planning the future. Time enough for that next day when they returned to London. This one night was for enjoying the wonder of being together.
Chapter 4
‘Lieutenant Russell, there’s a call for you on the outside line.’
‘Can’t you deal with it, Corporal?’ Kate frowned, looking up from the mound of pape
rwork on the desk in front of her.
It was late afternoon but the July sun was still blazing down, turning the small office into an oven. Although she had rolled up the sleeves of her khaki blouse, Kate still felt hot and sticky. She longed for the day to end and to have the chance to get outside and breathe fresh air. At times like this, she hated London and being confined to an office where she was under pressure from the moment she sat down at her desk at nine each morning until she finished at six.
And even then she was not always free. Although the air-raids had ended, there were still doodle-bugs which meant that in addition to Barrack-room duties, regular drills had to be carried out or supervised. It was very time consuming, yet sometimes, she thought, this was all to the good. It meant she had less time to think and to brood on what might have been.
It was almost two months since she and Robert Campbell had last seen each other. After their memorable night in Marlow he had gone off on his OTC, promising to keep in touch, but she hadn’t heard a word. She was not even sure where he had been sent for his training, only that it wasn’t London or Sandhurst. So many additional courses had been instigated, in a frenzied endeavour to replace officers who had been killed in Italy and North Africa, that it could be anywhere.
Remembering her own training, she was not really surprised that she had not heard from him. She had found every minute of the day had been taken up by drills and lectures and at night she had been almost too weary to prepare for the next day. The army, she reflected, seemed to be divided between those who kicked their heels waiting for something to happen and those who were expected to cram at least twenty-five hours work into every twenty-four. And she came into the latter category, she thought grimly, as she reached for another folder from the pile in front of her.
‘Lieutenant Russell, the caller won’t leave a message. He says it’s personal,’ the corporal interrupted her apologetically.
‘Do you know who it is?’
‘No ma’am, he refuses to give a name.’
‘Oh, very well, I’ll take it.’ Still talking she picked up the receiver.
‘Kate? This is Second-Lieutenant Campbell speaking.’
‘Robert! You’ve passed. Congratulations! Where are you? Can we meet somewhere … and celebrate!’
‘I am afraid that is impossible. All leave has been cancelled. I’m on standby. The rumours say there’s to be a European invasion. You probably know more about that than I do!’
‘I don’t know anything … I couldn’t even find out where you were!’ Her relief at hearing from him was marred by her disappointment they couldn’t be together. ‘If you can’t get leave then shall I come and see you?’ she suggested.
‘If you can! I’ll phone again as soon as I know where I’m being sent. Kate, I do love you.’
‘And I you. I want to see you … soon!’
‘Marlow was wonderful,’ he said huskily. ‘I can’t wait for us to be together again. I’ve thought of nothing else! Has your father …’
The line went dead before he could finish. Kate jiggled the receiver impatiently but the only person she managed to make contact with was the switchboard operator who told her, ‘There is no one on the line. Replace your receiver and I’ll reconnect you when your caller comes through again.’
Although she waited hopefully all the afternoon, Robert didn’t phone again. The frustration of not knowing where he had been phoning from, or where he was being posted, made her edgy. To make matters worse, it was her night for dining with her father.
The excellent food, the glass of white wine and the strong black coffee at the end of the meal did much to restore Kate’s spirits.
‘You look better now than when you arrived,’ Sir Henry said, leaning back in his chair and twirling the ends of his moustache. ‘Had a hard day?’
Kate hesitated, wondering whether to take him into her confidence or not. Since the disastrous episode at Walford Grange, neither of them had mentioned Robert Campbell.
After she had returned to Barracks, Kate couldn’t put the incident from her mind. She had desperately wanted to phone home and straighten things out. She wasn’t used to quarrelling with her parents. She had even wondered if her father would even want to dine with her the following Tuesday.
When he didn’t phone, or send a message either, she decided to just turn up at the Savoy as if nothing had happened. He had used the same tactics, waiting for her as usual in the foyer.
Now, when they were both relaxed after their meal, might be just the right time to talk, Kate decided.
‘I had a phone call from Robert this afternoon. He has passed his OTC,’ she said guardedly.
‘Who?’
‘Robert Campbell. You can’t have forgotten him,’ she added with irony. ‘You said he was the best driver you had ever had.’
‘Oh that fellow! Passed has he.’ Sir Henry gave a dismissive shrug. ‘Well, we’ve lost so many young officers they are giving commissions to the most unlikely chaps.’
‘He’ll make an excellent officer.’
‘Maybe!’ Sir Henry tugged at the ends of his moustache, a frown furrowing his brow. ‘Not still seeing him, I hope.’
‘I haven’t seen him since he’s been on his course but I shall as soon as he gets some leave, or when I find out where he has been posted. I don’t suppose you’ll have any objection if I bring him home now that he has a pip on his shoulder.’
Sir Henry signalled a waiter to bring him a cigar. Kate watched impatiently while he took a gold cutter from his pocket and meticulously removed the end. When it was going well, he gave a satisfied sigh, then said in a heavy voice: ‘Damned impertinence, asking me if he could marry you!’
‘We are in love with each other,’ Kate defended.
‘I’ve already given you my opinion on that,’ Sir Henry said sharply. ‘I was hoping you would let the subject drop.’
‘I won’t talk about it if you don’t want me to,’ Kate said quietly, ‘but I will be seeing Robert again and nothing you say will stop me. We are going to be married, just as soon as we can both get leave.’
Sir Henry had only to look at the serious set of her face to know that Kate’s mind was made up. He was an expert at planning battles and saw this as a small-scale skirmish, one he could easily win if he planned aright.
‘Fine, just as long as you are sure you know what you are doing.’
Her father’s agreement completely stunned Kate. She had been all keyed up for a fight, expecting every possible obstacle to be put in her way. His cool acceptance left her indefensible. It was as if the enemy had capitulated without firing a single shot.
‘You don’t mind?’
‘If it’s what you really want …’ he left the sentence unfinished, putting the onus squarely on her shoulders.
‘And I can bring Robert down to Walford Grange?’
‘It is your home. When is he next on leave?’
‘That’s what I don’t know … do you think you could find out for me?’ she pleaded, her brown eyes desperate. ‘Please! It is very important. I don’t even know where he’s being sent.’
‘You’d better give me the relevant details.’
‘That is the problem, all I have is his name and service number. I don’t even know which regiment he’s with now,’ she said dejectedly.
‘I’ll see what I can do.’ Sir Henry looked at his watch. ‘Time we were moving,’ he said abruptly. ‘I told my driver to be back at nine o’clock and it is almost half-past.’
She phoned her father three times the following week but he had not managed to unearth any news for her, nor had she heard from Robert again. With her next leave barely a fort-night away, Kate felt a sense of panic. She had made enquiries from all of her own contacts but no one seemed to have any news of a newly commissioned officer called Campbell. Troop movements were both chaotic and erratic. Units, platoons and even divisions were being moved from one field of operations to the next. The posting of newly commissioned officers to make up de
pleted strength was going on all the time, he explained, and records were not always up to date.
When she met her father the following week, he was negative about Robert’s whereabouts. ‘He may have already been sent to North Africa or Italy,’ he told her.
Kate still had no news by the time her leave was due and felt torn between staying at her desk, so that she would be on hand if Robert phoned, or going home for the break she so desperately needed. In the end, she took her leave but left instructions with the Duty Corporal that if Lieutenant Robert Campbell should phone to be sure and contact her with details of where she could get in touch with him.
Walford Grange seemed like another world. Apart from rationing, which was amply supplemented by local supplies of eggs, chickens, rabbits and freshly grown vegetables, the war seemed to have passed them by. There had been no air-raids, or any major upheavals. None of the heavily laden bombers that set out each night for Europe ever passed overhead.
Kate found the slow pace of life consolatory and spent the first few days relaxing, contentedly soaking up the August sunshine, dozing, dreaming and half listening to her mother as she gossiped about local happenings.
It seemed that although most of the evacuees had gone home, now that the air-raids on London and other big cities had abated, the village was still over-run by ‘strangers’. Land Army girls and Italian prisoners of war were working on the farms, replacing local men who had been called up. But, the really big news was that the entire area had been flooded with GI’s from the 8th US Army Air Force. Girls were eager to befriend them because they handed out silk stockings, and their generosity with gum and chocolate bars had won over most of the sweet-starved villagers.
In their smooth, well-tailored khaki uniform even the ordinary soldiers were as well dressed as a British officer. American officers went one stage better and looked incredibly suave in their well-cut olive jackets and beige trousers.
‘You’ll be able to meet some of them at the weekend,’ her mother told her. ‘Your father has invited several of them over for drinks.’