by Rosie Harris
Secretly, she was dismayed at the thought of a six-month delay and wished she hadn’t already applied for her demob from the ATS. Then, early in December, Eleanor came home from Africa, alone.
Eleanor was so depressed and heartbroken that Kate spent as much time as she could trying to cheer her up. Wedding plans were pushed to one side, and barely mentioned for fear of distressing Eleanor even more.
At Christmas, Ralph Buscombe, who was now demobbed and working at his father’s bank, came back into their lives and he and Eleanor slipped back into their old relationship almost as if there had never been a break.
Watching them together, Kate felt lonely and left-out and threw herself wholeheartedly into perfecting the plans for her own wedding. The date was fixed for the first Saturday in May and afterwards they would drive to Cornwall for their honeymoon.
To ensure Lady Dorothea would not be overtaxed, Kate made all the bookings for the church, choir, organist and reception herself. She blamed her mother’s poor health on the fact that her opposition to the forthcoming wedding amounted almost to paranoia. Mabel Sharp was also violently opposed but Kate was convinced that this was because she had been turned against Robert by Lady Dorothea.
With each new embroilment, Kate wished herself out of Walford Grange. Robert was now a Captain and expected to be sent back to Germany immediately his tour in Italy ended. He wrote such glowing accounts about what their home and social life in Hamburg and Hanover would be like that she couldn’t wait to join him. Just to escape from her mother’s plaintive voice, constantly complaining about the difficulties the wedding was presenting, would be a relief. They were fast becoming a daily trauma that she found hard to endure.
Now that Robert held the rank of Captain, her father had no further criticism to make on that score, only about what his prospects were after he left the army and, like Lady Dorothea, bemoaned the fact that he lacked breeding.
‘He’s a man, not a stallion,’ Kate snapped angrily.
‘Pedigree counts in both instances,’ Sir Henry told her. ‘Blood, background, breeding and wealth are the criteria by which you should judge a man.’
‘How about looks, personality, and moral fibre?’ she asked sarcastically.
‘The first doesn’t matter a damn and the other two will follow automatically if the breeding and background are right!’
Since it was pointless to argue, Kate usually changed the subject or found an excuse to take refuge in her own room.
She wrote to Robert most days, giving him a running record of the wedding plans, without mentioning any of the controversy.
April heralded in sunshine and showers. The bright green of the lawn was a perfect foil for the masses of daffodils, jonquils, polyanthus and grape hyacinths, that overflowed from the borders. The hedgerows wore white mantles of sweet-smelling May and in the orchard the grass was showered with pink and white apple blossom that drifted on the light breeze like confetti.
Just before Easter, Eleanor said she was going away for a few days but promised to be back in good time for the wedding. When Kate learned that Ralph was also on holiday she suspected they were together. When they reappeared, glowing with happiness, Kate learned her friend had stolen a march on her and got married first.
‘I’ll have to be matron-of-honour instead of chief bridesmaid,’ Eleanor laughed as she displayed the slim gold band on her left hand.
Looking at Eleanor’s radiant face, Kate felt envious and even more conscious of the tremendous hassle that still lay ahead of her. If only Robert were near at hand to give her moral support, she thought wistfully.
As April drew to a close and the wedding was imminent Mabel Sharp seemed to have a last-minute change of heart and threw herself into organising everything with immense gusto. She persuaded Lady Dorothea to let her take on two women from the village to help with the extra cleaning and cooking and personally supervised everything.
Kate felt overwhelmed by everyone’s generosity. There was a constant stream of callers bringing gifts. The stack of precious rations grew daily as people delved into their store cupboards, bringing out carefully hoarded sugar, tinned or dried fruit, home-made preserves and other luxuries.
Some of the villagers even brought along clothing coupons. And there were gifts of silk lingerie, hand-made from old parachutes and trimmed with exquisite hand-made lace.
When news leaked out that Kate and Robert would be motoring to Cornwall for their honeymoon, donations of petrol began to appear and Kate stored it up in black jerry cans ready for the journey.
One last minute hitch set her nerves on edge. Robert and a fellow officer, who was to be his best man, were due to arrive in England the day before the wedding and it had been arranged that they would stay overnight at Ralph and Eleanor’s flat.
‘It will be awfully cramped,’ Kate protested.
‘Never mind,’ Eleanor laughed. ‘It is the only way of making sure the two of you do not meet before you get to the church!’
On her wedding eve, Kate waited with unbearable excitement, longing to hear Robert’s voice saying he had arrived.
A few minutes before midnight when the phone rang, she was disappointed when it was only Eleanor.
‘Thought you would want to know that Ralph has just gone to Taunton to collect Robert,’ she told Kate.
‘And his friend.’
‘No … just Robert. That is why I am phoning you. It seems the other chap was unable to come …’
‘But what will we do!’ Kate wailed.
‘Don’t worry, we’ve thought it through. Ralph will be best man. Now get some sleep or you will be arriving at the church with black shadows under your eyes. See you in the morning, Kate. I’ll be over early to help you dress.’
Kate couldn’t sleep. Her mind was in a turmoil, wondering what had gone wrong with Robert’s arrangements and wishing he had phoned her himself with the news. She heard the hall clock chime midnight. Her wedding day had already dawned and it was too late to change anything now.
Kate’s wedding was a scene of fairytale splendour. After the drabness of the war years, the sight of a bride in white, and a handsome Guards Officer waiting for her arrival, brought tears to the eyes of the many well-wishers who clustered outside the granite-grey Norman church.
The spring day was filled with sunshine and flowers. Kate and her father arrived in a horse-drawn landau. Sir Henry was resplendent in a grey morning coat and grey topper. Erect, and bristling with pride, he gave his arm to Kate as she descended from the carriage. She looked a vision of loveliness in her white lace dress, the heavy pearl-encrusted veil covering her dark hair. Tall and slim, her hand rested lightly on her father’s arm as he proudly escorted her down the aisle.
The strains of the organ died away as she reached Robert’s side, and a hallowed silence filled the ancient church. Sunlight streamed in through the rose-window, bathing her in a kaleidoscope of colour. As Robert turned towards her, and she saw the love in the depths of his green eyes, she knew an exquisite peace. The moment she had dreamed about for so long had finally arrived.
The service, exchange of vows, signing of the Register, posing outside the church for photographs and the reception back at Walford Grange all merged into an incredible extravaganza, in which she did all the things required of her as if in a trance.
It wasn’t until Eleanor had helped her to change out of her wedding dress into her blue woollen suit that she really believed it had all happened and she was married at last.
Once clear of the well-wishers who lined the drive, waving them on their way, Robert pulled over to the side of the road and cut the engine. Turning, he took Kate into his arms. They sat holding each other, not daring to speak for fear of destroying the enchantment of the moment. Then masterfully his mouth covered hers in a deep tender kiss.
With a light sigh she responded, relaxing in the warm reassurance of his arms. The long months of separation were erased by those sweet magical moments and when Robert restarted the car, a
nd they headed west for Cornwall, Kate settled back in her seat filled with an overwhelming contentment and pleasurable anticipation.
The sun was dipping by the time they arrived at St Ives. Suspended like a glowing red ball it floated above the shimmering surface of the sea, until it finally sank from view.
Their room looked out over the sea and when they at last went up to bed, Kate went out onto the balcony. The air was fragrant with lilac and she stood there, momentarily mesmerised by the full moon, a golden shield, suspended high above the white choppy waves against a backcloth of dazzling stars.
Then Robert was at her side, his lips nuzzling her hair, his hand on her arm, drawing her towards him, back into the room and their long awaited night of love.
Chapter 10
Kate stirred to sharp sunlight, a crisp salt-laden breeze and the unfamiliar sensation that there was someone in the bed alongside her. For a moment she lay perfectly still, trying to collect her thoughts and convince herself that it was not just a dream and that yesterday had been her wedding day. As she turned her head, the shock of reddish-gold hair on the pillow beside her confirmed the reality of it all.
She had imagined this moment so many times yet it still had an air of unreality and even now she was afraid she might suddenly find it just a mirage. As she lay there, conscious of the heat of Robert’s body where it touched her own, she became aware of a gradual sense of contentment. The early morning sounds outside, the unfamiliar lapping of the waves as the tide crept up the beach, and the scream of the gulls as they dived for food, all helped to crystallise the moment.
She raised herself on one elbow and looked down on the face that had haunted her thoughts for so long. Lightly, she traced the strong outline, running her fingers up into the fiery tousle of Robert’s hair, staring down at him in silent joy.
With a blissful sigh she lowered her head to kiss Robert. As their lips met he grabbed her. Startled, she offered no resistance as he rolled her over pinioning her beneath him.
‘Good morning, Mrs Campbell,’ he breathed, his green eyes glinting with desire. He pulled away so that he could look down at her, feasting his eyes on her creamy skin and the soft curves of her body, tantalisingly hidden by the filmy nightdress. Then he began to gently caress her throat with his lips and to move in a slow trail down over one breast.
‘I thought you were still asleep,’ she murmured, wriggling one arm free so that she could stroke his face and bury her fingers in his hair.
‘I know you did,’ he smiled. ‘I’ve been awake for quite some time. I enjoyed watching you sleep.’
‘That’s unfair!’
‘Why is it? You were watching me!’
As she made to pull away he held her more tightly. The playful glint had gone from his eyes, replaced by purposeful ardour. His hands slid beneath the sheer nightie, stroking her body, sending delicious waves of pleasure rippling through her entire being. Intoxicated, she pressed closer, and the burning heat of his skin against the coolness of her own increased her excitement.
Time, place, the past and the future melded into one sensation as she felt his hardness touch her. With a tiny rapturous moan she responded. For them both, each moment became another step of discovery in the joy of loving.
Kate gave gasps of pleasure and surprise as his lips continued to explore her body, his teeth gently grazing in a manner so sensuous that he aroused her need of him until it was as great as his for her.
Kate’s face was damp with tears – her body now so relaxed that when he finally entered her the completeness of their union filled her with joy. As the pulsating rhythm united them, she responded to every vibration and to every breath he drew, feeling his tremendous vitality seep through her entire being.
The sudden release of their passion was cataclysmic. An overpowering heat flooded over her, a great wave of happiness welled up, leaving her gasping as the last delicious shuddering moments came on them simultaneously.
Her cheeks flushed with emotion she lay quiescent, listening to the rasp of his breath, feeling its warmth in the nape of her neck, conscious of his weight as he lay there exhausted. When he attempted to move away she clung on to him, wanting to retain the feeling of completeness for ever. Tenderly he kissed her eyes, her brow, her mouth, then, still cradling her, rolled onto his side.
They lay there in each other’s arms, her head resting on his muscular chest, for a long time, content to dream, to bask in their love for each other as they watched the sun shimmering on the blue sea beyond the open window. The light morning breeze stirred the curtains and wafted over them, promising all the glory of an early summer day.
‘What a pity it is too cold to swim before breakfast,’ Robert murmured as he stroked Kate’s pink tipped breast.
‘Perhaps it will be warm enough after lunch,’ she said hopefully.
‘You mean after our afternoon siesta,’ he teased, his green eyes challenging.
‘We’re not going to waste our entire honeymoon in bed!’ she admonished. ‘This has to be the holiday of a lifetime, we have both waited long enough for it.’
‘Not a single moment will be wasted,’ he assured her as his hands began once again to move caressingly over her body.
‘Stop!’ She captured his straying hand and held it tightly. ‘If we don’t get dressed and go down to breakfast we will probably find we have left it too late and I am ravenous.’
‘So am I,’ Robert agreed, ‘but not for food!’ He nuzzled her ear, pushing her dark hair to one side, and then his lips began a trail down her neck until his mouth closed over her hardening nipple.
The shrilling of the phone broke the spell. Frowning, Robert reached out and picked up the receiver from the bedside table. A look of anger crossed his face as he passed it over to Kate.
‘For me!’ she exclaimed in astonishment. ‘Who knows we’re here?’
‘Mabel Sharp!’
‘Nanny?’ She looked bewildered as she spoke the word into the receiver. Then it changed to dismay. She reached out for Robert’s hand and held on to it while the colour drained from her face as she listened without speaking.
‘Very well. I’ll come right away,’ she promised in a small tight voice.
Tears streaming down her cheeks she handed the receiver back to Robert to replace in its cradle.
‘What was all that about?’ he asked as he tried to pull her back into his arms.
‘We have to go home. We must leave right away,’ she said, resisting his embrace and throwing back the bedcovers.
‘Why, what has happened? We have only just got here!’
‘Mother has had a heart attack. She collapsed last night. They have taken her to hospital, it sounds rather serious. My father is with her and he asked Nanny to phone and tell me. It seems … Nanny thinks …’ the words choked her and she was unable to go on. The colour had drained from her face leaving it strained and white, her dark eyes confused.
Robert gathered her into his arms, rocking her tenderly in an attempt to comfort her.
‘Come on, it can’t be all that bad!’
‘But it is,’ she wailed. ‘They don’t think she will live. That is why we must be there. Nanny said they wouldn’t have contacted me otherwise but the doctor thought I should be there … that is how critical they think it is.’
Placing the flat of both hands against Robert’s chest Kate pushed herself free from his embrace and went into the bathroom. He heard the splashing of water as she bathed and within seconds she was back in the bedroom, wrapped in a towel, scrabbling through her unpacked suitcase searching for clothes.
His face set like granite, Robert shaved and dressed, anger bubbling inside him that this had happened. He tried to think of some way to persuade Kate to delay leaving.
If Lady Dorothea was already in hospital there was not much that Kate could do so it did seem senseless to make such a long journey without being quite sure that they were needed. If she phoned home again, later in the day, she could check whether it was absolute
ly necessary for them to cut short their honeymoon. By then the worst might be over and her mother off the danger list.
Kate didn’t attempt to eat any breakfast. She drank some coffee and tapped her foot impatiently, waiting for Robert to finish his bacon, egg and toast.
‘Why don’t you try to eat something, it will save us having to stop on the journey,’ he suggested.
‘You won’t need to stop on my account,’ she said, getting up from the table. ‘I’ll go and stow the cases in the car while you finish.’
‘Hold on. I shall only be a couple of minutes!’
‘It is over half an hour since the phone call came through,’ she said, looking at her watch impatiently.
‘We will make that up when we get on the road,’ he promised.
‘I am going to drive,’ she told him firmly. ‘I will feel better doing something than just sitting there.’
‘We’ll take turns. You can drive first,’ he said stubbornly.
‘I will go and bring the car round while you pay for our room.’
Robert was still trying to explain to the manager why they were leaving after just one night, when Kate came back and snatched up the case resting on the floor by his feet. With an apologetic smile at the manager, Robert followed her out to the car.
Her speed along the narrow twisting Cornish roads frightened him but he thought it wiser to say nothing. He hoped that once they were actually on their way she would relax a little and slow up.
Once they were into Devon, and joined the main road heading towards Bridgwater, Kate increased her speed until the car vibrated under the strain. Her hands gripped the wheel so tightly that her knuckles shone white.
‘Would you like me to drive for a while?’ Robert suggested.
She didn’t answer, simply shook her head, her eyes never leaving the road as they hurtled along at top speed.
‘We had better stop at the next garage for petrol. Are the coupons in your handbag?’
‘The tank is still half-full,’ she answered, letting her gaze momentarily flick to the control panel.