by Anne Baker
It began to rain, which made him shiver, he’d grown used to the jungle heat, but it brought him back to the present. It was after ten and dark and he had to find somewhere to spend the night.
He’d go to his mother’s house. She was a widow and would be glad to see him, she always was. He hoped to see a phone box. He wanted to let her know he was coming. After his reception from Annabel, he was reluctant to walk in on her but he couldn’t remember where the phone boxes were and neither could he think of her phone number. Once it had been his phone number, his mother hadn’t moved from the family home. Well, not as far as he knew.
At least he knew the way. He’d been brought up in and around this district and had never moved far until he joined the army. He walked on until he came to his old home. He hesitated at the front gate, worried now about his mother. Did she still live here? Would she be coping after three years of war and widowhood?
No glimmer of light showed, there was no sign that anybody lived here, but a heavier flurry of rain drove him to the front door to ring the bell. He held his breath until he heard her coming to shoot the bolt off the door.
‘Andy!’ Her face lit up in a huge welcoming smile, she threw her arms round him. ‘How marvellous to see you again.’ She laughed with delight. ‘Ugh, you’re wet, like a drowned rat, come to the fire.’
Her welcome couldn’t have been more different to Annabel’s. That night, he’d pulled the blankets over his ears in his childhood bed. He’d had to tell his mother about Annabel, it had filled his mind and he’d broken down and wept. It was years since his mother had seen him cry and that had humiliated him further.
Even so, within an hour of entering his mother’s house it was as though he’d never left. His mother said she was looking forward to having his company for the whole of his month’s leave so he’d done the right thing by coming home.
But nothing could take away the raw hurt of Annabel’s rejection. He’d believed she loved him and he’d trusted her. The last thing he’d expected was that she’d take another lover. Just to let that cross his mind cut him to ribbons. If his flight from the Japanese advance had taken all his physical stamina, Annabel’s defection had delivered an emotional death blow. He couldn’t look at life in the same way again. She’d changed him for ever. He felt finished, totally drained and exhausted.
When his leave was up he’d reported back to the army as ordered, and been posted to Catterick Camp in Yorkshire, where he’d put his head down and been a cog in the army financial service. For years, he’d done nothing about getting a divorce, it had seemed too hard. One part of him hoped Annabel would get fed up with Victor and return to him, but his mother thought he’d feel better if he was free of her and kept saying so.
At the end of the war in 1945, a flood of divorces had been reported in the newspapers and Andrew had finally got round to it. Victor bought his share of the house from him so his mother thought he was finally free of Annabel. He wasn’t, he still thought of her, imagining things as they once were.
He met up with Jeff Willis every so often and had been introduced to his wife and three children. Jeff had survived their adventure in the Far East with less damage, but Andrew had always known he had a tough core. When the army no longer required Andrew’s services in 1946, he’d returned to live with his mother and started job hunting. It was then that Jeff had handed him the advertisement torn from a newspaper. ‘You’d be all right working for this fellow,’ he’d said. ‘Pete Maynard is a relative of mine. I reckon you’d get a fair deal from him.’
‘William C. Maynard and Sons? They’re quite a big Liverpool firm, I didn’t realise you had relatives like that.’
‘I come from the poor side of the family, though I count Pete a friend. I think you’ll like him.’
Andrew had liked him and he’d got the job. All he’d wanted after that was a quiet life.
Millie was afraid the first anniversary of Pete’s death would be difficult to get through and couldn’t help thinking how different her life would be now if she still had him with her. It fell on a Sunday and Valerie invited all the family to lunch on that day. They were all looking forward to the birth of Helen’s baby which was due in another ten days. She was sewing baby clothes and Valerie was crocheting a shawl, and Millie had helped by knitting a bonnet and matinee coat.
Late in the morning when Millie and her children had reached Valerie’s house, Eric telephoned to say he was taking Helen into hospital, and could he bring baby Jenny over to stay a little earlier than he’d arranged?
That put them all on tenterhooks and they could talk of nothing else. Eric brought Jenny and ate a hasty lunch before returning to the hospital. Millie had thought it would be a sad day with them all talking about Pete and remembering how much he’d meant to them, but the imminent birth changed everything.
Sylvie played with baby Jenny, and eventually they went on to discuss the future, the party Val was planning for the twins who would soon have their fourth birthday, and Simon who was facing exams and a new school in September.
Valerie was putting the twins to bed that night and Millie was tucking Jenny into a cot in their bedroom when Eric phoned to say Helen had had a baby boy weighing seven and a half pounds and they wanted to call him Peter after her father. Millie had to wipe away a tear before she went downstairs to rejoin the rest of the family. Eric opened a bottle of wine to drink to the new baby’s health and happiness, and then because they’d all enjoyed it so much, he opened another.
In future, this date would be remembered as baby Peter’s birthday and not as the day of his grandfather’s terrible accident. Millie knew she need never fear it again. She could see her family was ready to move forward and think of the future again, and she must try to do the same.
Sylvie began to dream of spending the future with Denis. She was quite sure he was the man for her. He could kiss her and bring her blood to the boil in a few moments. Every time she went out with him he brought her home, and they were spending longer and longer outside her front gate with their arms round each other, trying to say goodnight. But it was very cold, and darkness provided their only privacy. Sylvie thought longingly of the shed at the far end of their back garden. It would provide a lovely hidey-hole for them. One Tuesday she took the key to the shed door from the kitchen and looked inside. It was full of gardening equipment and furniture but nobody had been in since the end of the summer.
She decided it would suit them very well and pushed everything closer together to make more space. The cushions for the garden furniture had been packed away in a tea chest. She swept the floor and arranged them there in readiness. Then she oiled the catches on both the front gate and the side gate so Mum wouldn’t hear them being opened. At work the next day, she felt quite excited about what was to come that evening.
Connie and her friends in the office had talked of an imaginary line drawn on the ground in front of them, which they were forbidden to cross until they were married. Sylvie knew her mother had crossed that line, and back in the old days when she was young it wasn’t just a line, it was a great ditch with hedges that had to be climbed too. But the war had changed how many people felt about that. Loving Denis as she did, she could understand the thrills and temptations that had led Mum to do it and longed to experience love like that herself.
That evening, Denis took her to see Danny Kaye in The Secret Life of Walter Mitty, and it was such a laugh that she forgot everything else. When he took her home afterwards the night was cold and clear and the moon almost full. He tried to kiss her goodnight at the front gate, but she took his hand and led him silently across the front lawn and into the back garden, keeping well away from the light blazing out from the hall windows. Very little light came from the sitting-room windows at the back because the heavy curtains were drawn.
Inside the shed the dark seemed thick and black, but Sylvie had brought a torch and shone it round
to show him. ‘We’ll be safe from prying eyes here,’ she said.
‘Won’t your mother see the light and know you’re here?’
‘No, too many trees and bushes in between, and anyway once she’s drawn the curtains she won’t look out.’
He put his arms round her and kissed her and she urged him down on to the cushions. ‘We might as well be comfortable,’ she said. It was lovely to lie down with him and feel the weight of his body against hers. Sylvie undid the buttons on his coat, made him slip his arms out and used it to cover them instead. His kisses were eager and she returned them with equal joy. She wanted more and took off his tie and undid his shirt buttons, pushing her hand inside to stroke his warm smooth skin. She meant to encourage him to take a step further with his love-making.
Denis lifted himself up on his elbows. She knew he was smiling. ‘Sylvie,’ he said, ‘you’re leading me on. I think you’re trying to seduce me.’
‘Of course I am.’ She laughed softly.
He kissed her again. ‘I’m flattered, very flattered, but no. That must wait until we’re married.’
Until we’re married! His words thrilled her to the core. He hadn’t mentioned marriage so far but he was thinking of it! She hugged him again. She’d already imagined walking down the aisle to him in a beautiful white gown. Now she knew he wanted the same thing.
‘Yes.’ He seemed suddenly shy. ‘Would you be willing to wait? I really do want to marry you.’
‘Oh yes,’ she breathed and pulled him even closer. ‘There’s nothing I want more,’ she had to smile. ‘So it doesn’t matter now if we do make love, we can go all the way.’
‘Sylvie! No we can’t. We need to stop now before things get out of hand.’
‘Don’t you want to?’ She was suspicious.
‘Of course I do. But we can’t, not yet.’
‘Come on, love me now.’
‘What if I give you a baby?’
‘Then we’d have to get married straight away, wouldn’t we?’
He laughed. ‘If only we could.’
‘Why not?’
‘Quite apart from everything else, I can’t afford it yet. I’m an apprentice. I can’t get married until I’m earning enough to support a wife and family.’
‘Don’t be a stodgy. This is the brave new world, isn’t it? By September you’ll be twenty-one and time served. Mum likes you, she’ll not want you to leave. She’ll give you a permanent job.’
‘She can’t, Sylvie,’ he said gently. ‘She knows I’ll have to do my National Service. I’ll be called up for that as soon as I’m out of my apprenticeship.’
Sylvie’s mood plummeted, she’d forgotten about that. Everybody knew men had to do two years’ National Service, either when they reached the age of eighteen or when they’d completed an apprenticeship or college course. Denis had spoken of it more than once and so had Mum, but her dreams of the future had been more real than life itself.
‘That’s why I asked if you’d wait. It’ll be at least two and a half years. I can’t marry you until I’ve done that. You will wait for me, won’t you?’
Of course she would. ‘Two and a half years will seem forever.’
‘It will, but the war is over, so it’s not as though I’m likely to be killed.’
‘Come on, we can’t wait all that time to find out about things like this.’ She pulled him down again to kiss him.
She felt him pull away from her. ‘Sylvie, I couldn’t risk it. I couldn’t go away and leave you on your own having a baby. I couldn’t live with myself if I put you in that position.’
‘Mum would look after me if that happened. She’s already told me she would.’
Sylvie felt him straighten up with determination. ‘You can’t take risks like that and rely on other people to bail you out when you find you’ve got a problem. You have to learn to stand on your own feet.’
‘It’s only if the worst happened, and I know Mum would want to take care of me. I’d stay with her until you came home. For me there wouldn’t be a problem. I don’t need to wait until I’m twenty-one to do the things I want.’
‘You do, Sylvie,’ he said quietly. ‘You’ve had a wonderful upbringing. Your family has given you all the love and care in the world, as well as everything else money could buy. They’ve also met every one of your passing whims, so you’ve received everything you thought you wanted. You’ve been too well protected, too well cared for. Adult life in the real world isn’t like that. You have to face up to what it throws at you.’
Suddenly Sylvie felt like a spoilt child. Denis seemed much older and wiser than she was.
‘Your dad spoilt you, even if he wasn’t your real dad. Your mother spoils you too.’ He stood up. ‘If you were my wife, I might not be able to ease your difficulties in the same way. I’ve been trying not to say grow up because it sounds heartless, but I think you need another year or two to learn that you can’t always have everything handed to you on a plate.’
She was indignant. ‘I don’t think you love me after all.’
‘Sylvie, of course I do.’ He pulled her to her feet. ‘I love you, but I don’t think you’re ready for marriage yet. If you had a baby you’d have to take care of it and sometimes put the child’s interests above your own.’
‘I would,’ she protested, ‘of course I would.’
‘No, Sylvie, I’m not sure you’d be able to. You always put your own needs first. It’s always what your mother can do for you, not what you can do for her.’ Denis went on, ‘An adult knows other people have feelings too, which leads me to say that your mother would not approve of you bringing me here like this. Anyway, it’s high time you went in. I expect she’s already worried that you’re later than usual.’
He felt on the floor for his coat and put it on. Sylvie felt she’d been found wanting. ‘So I’m not ready for marriage yet? That’s it then?’
‘Where are you?’ She knew he was feeling for her. His arms went round her and his lips found hers again. ‘Please don’t be upset. Whatever we feel we want, we’ll have to wait another two and a half more years before we can have it, there’s no way round that.’
Chapter Twenty-Five
Simon had done well in his exams and Millie was delighted when she received a large envelope from the headmaster of Liverpool College where she had applied for a place for him. She was informed that Simon could start in September.
Millie was given an appointment to take him to meet the headmaster and be shown round the school. Enclosed also were forms for her to fill in, and a uniform list.
‘Mum,’ Simon said, ‘I don’t want to be a boarder. Liverpool College is nearer than Heathfield, near enough for me to get there and back on the bus every day.’
‘All your family have been boarders at that school,’ she said. ‘Your father was happy there and he wanted the same for you and Kenny.’
‘Mum, everything has changed since the war. Dad can’t be here with us now, but I know he’d let me live at home if I told him that was what I wanted.’
Millie had to laugh. ‘Are you trying to get round me?’
‘Say I can. I know they let boys do that these days.’ He was looking at her with imploring eyes but really there was nothing Millie wanted more than to keep her children close.
‘We’ll have to see,’ she said.
‘What about me?’ Kenny wailed. ‘I don’t want to be the only one boarding.’
‘You’ll be the only one at Heathfield anyway,’ Simon retorted.
When Millie sat down to read the brochure for his new school she found they had opened a junior school in recent years, and she thought perhaps Kenny might prefer to go there as a day boy to sit the exam for the senior school. When she suggested it to him he was over the moon, so she telephoned the school secretary to find out if they had a p
lace available for him. They had, so she wrote to the headmaster at Heathfield to tell him. It would be better for Kenny to stay close to his brother.
When she kept the appointment the headmaster had given her, she took both her boys with her, and spent most of the afternoon looking round both the junior and senior schools. Millie was delighted that she’d have her boys at home with her in future.
The summer holidays came and Millie took her children to Hafod for two weeks. Sylvie asked if Denis might come with them as he would be twenty-one at the end of September and could expect his call-up papers shortly after that. It took a lot of forward planning in the lab but he came and fitted in well with the family. The weather was warm and sunny so they could picnic on the beach and swim, and they had a lovely trip up Snowdon. They didn’t go anywhere near the boat, nobody mentioned it, or suggested a fishing trip in one of the several boats advertising holiday trips.
For Millie, time seemed to fly past, and she thought things were getting easier too. At work, she was relying more and more on Andrew, he readily offered the sort of help that Nigel and Marcus should have provided. She sought his company too, but sometimes it gave them both uncomfortable moments.
Occasionally he asked her out for a drink or a meal which she enjoyed, but she felt somewhat embarrassed that he always insisted on paying. Ordinarily, she’d have repaid him by inviting him to meals at her house but he was now Sylvie’s boss and when she tried that, neither seemed at ease.
Andrew went striding to the lab one morning, pulled out the chair Millie kept for visitors and sat down. ‘Will you come out and have dinner with me on Wednesday?’ he asked. ‘I have in mind the Adelphi Hotel.’
‘Thank you, yes, I’d love to. The Adelphi sounds very extravagant. Is it a special occasion?’