Broken Rainbows (32 page)

‘She's grown so much, I wouldn't have recognised her,' he said as they walked down the stairs.

‘But she recognises her daddy's photograph,' Bethan consoled him.

‘Photographs can't make up for all the time I've missed.'

‘It's the same for everyone.'

‘Not everyone. Ronnie …'

‘Is in Italy.'

‘What!'

‘They asked, he went.'

‘I never had him down as a hero.'

‘A reluctant one, according to the letters he sends Diana.'

The strains of ‘Don't sit under the apple tree with anyone else but me' wafted towards them on the cool night air as they opened the small gate at the bottom of the garden.

‘How is Jane, Beth?' he asked seriously as she paused to listen to the music.

‘She seems fine. Busy, between work and taking care of Anne. We don't have much time to talk. You know how it is.'

‘No, but I can imagine.'

‘It's not easy on any of us.'

‘I don't need you to tell me we have problems, sis. Her letters have got shorter and shorter since my last leave.'

‘And yours are long?'

‘She's showed them to you?'

‘No. But I think I know what you're going through. Sometimes when I read what Andrew's written I wonder if we'll have enough in common to pass the time of day when the war is over.'

‘You've nothing to worry about with cashmere coat, Beth. He knows he's on to a good thing with you. He'll jump through hoops to keep you happy when it's over.'

‘And if I don't want him to jump through hoops?'

‘Typical woman. Never satisfied, no matter what a man does for her.'

He blinked hard as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. Two couples were dancing in the moonlight. He recognised Jenny's blonde hair, shining silver in the half-light. There was no mistaking the slender frame, height or size of the other woman. As he watched, she stretched upwards to receive the kiss of her partner. Heart thundering, Haydn took a step forward. Wrenching the couple apart, he didn't even look at the woman. Swinging back his fist he knocked the man clear from the staging.

‘After Eddie was killed, I thought we'd put this sort of thing behind us.' Evan poured out two brandies from the bottle Bethan had unearthed, and handed Haydn one.

‘And I never thought I'd come home to find my wife kissing another man.'

‘Seems to me you two have some sorting out to do.' Evan sat on the sofa in Andrew's study and looked up at his son.

‘What's the point?' Haydn paced restlessly to the window. The blackout had been pulled but he remained there, his back turned to his father, fingering the cloth.

‘She's your wife.'

‘You wouldn't think it, the way she carried on over that Yank doctor after I hit him.'

‘Probably because she didn't know who you were. A fist coming out of the darkness can be pretty anonymous when you're not expecting it.'

‘I saw the look on her face when the Yanks carried him into the kitchen.'

‘She was concerned. You'd just put him flat on his back.'

‘What about me?' He held up his bruised and swollen knuckles.

‘Haydn, it's not just you and Jane here,' Evan said forcefully. ‘You have a daughter to consider. Jane's your wife. All I'm saying is talk to her.'

‘The way you talk to Mam?'

‘I'm not making excuses for the mess I made of my marriage to your mother, but we never loved one another. Not the way you love Jane. And we didn't need a war to wreck our marriage. We did it all by ourselves. You and Jane might have been married for three years, but how long have you been together in all that time? Ten months? Son -'

‘Can I stay with you tonight?' Haydn broke in abruptly.

‘You don't need to ask. It's your home, Haydn.'

The door opened and Bethan walked in. ‘There's no bones broken, but he's going to have a sore head and a wonderful shiner in the morning.'

‘Right, that's all I've been waiting to hear. I'll see you back at the house, Dad.' Haydn finished his drink and set his glass on the desk.

‘Aren't you going to see Jane?' Bethan asked.

‘I've no reason to.'

‘Haydn, don't be stubborn, not now. She's in a terrible state.'

‘My heart bleeds for her.'

‘And my heart bleeds for both of you,' Bethan retorted angrily. ‘I've put her in my bedroom. I'll sleep with the children tonight. Please, go and see her, take all the time you want, but sort out your problems once and for all. Right now, she's feeling pretty wretched.'

‘And how do you think I feel!' he shouted. ‘All that nonsense about staying with you, so Dad and Phyllis could have time alone together, when all she wanted to be was here, in the same house as that …'

‘If you think that's why she stayed here, Haydn, you're mistaken.'

‘And I suppose I didn't see what I did?'

‘Go upstairs and talk to her. If you are man enough,' Bethan added, taking a calculated risk that the taunt might override his anger and obstinacy.

‘I'll talk to her. But only to discuss a divorce. I'll see you down the house, Dad.'

Evan looked helplessly at Bethan as Haydn left the room.

Haydn walked across the hall and up the stairs. He could hear muffled whisperings and movements behind closed doors as he passed, but he met no one. Reaching Bethan's bedroom door, he knocked quietly, opening it when he heard a strained ‘Come in.'

Jane was sitting on the bed, her face turned away from him. He looked past her at the furnishings. The severity of a pale wood, art deco bedroom suite was offset by crisp, cream lace curtains and bedspread and deep blue satin drapes. He found himself wondering if Bethan or Andrew had furnished the room. The plain wallpaper and furniture looked like Andrew's taste, but he could imagine his sister picking out the lace and satin.

‘I'm sorry.' Jane made a valiant effort to keep her voice steady. ‘I didn't mean for it to happen.'

‘You just thought you'd get your own back on me?'

‘It wasn't like that.'

‘Then what was it like, Jane? Tell me. I'm listening.' He leaned against the door and crossed his arms.

‘How can you expect me to explain when you're in that mood?'

‘The music, the moonlight … the romance of the moment. Just like in the films?'

‘Something like that,' she confessed miserably.

‘And how often has it happened before?'

‘Once, only once. I swear it, Haydn. I told him then he could never kiss me again …'

‘But it didn't stop him, did it?'

‘No more than the thought of Anne and me stopped you with that chorus girl?'

Suddenly exhausted, not only by the events of the day but the futility of their conversation he picked up a chair and moved it as far from the bed as the confines of the room would allow, before sitting down.

‘It doesn't matter what I've done or haven't done, does it, Jane? Not any more.'

‘What do you mean?' Her red-rimmed eyes widened in fear.

‘You're in love with D'Este.' It was a statement, not a question.

‘Nothing's happened between us, Haydn. Only two kisses …'

‘But in your mind you've already made love to him a hundred times over. Kissed him the way he kissed you. Imagined yourself in his arms …' He had to stop himself from crossing the room and touching her in an effort to make her forget that there was a man called Tomas D'Este.

‘I don't even know him, Haydn.'

‘But you will.' He rose to his feet. ‘Let's cut our losses, Jane, and get a divorce. I'll admit adultery. That should speed things up and give you all the grounds you'll need.'

‘And Anne?' She lifted her tear-stained face to his.

‘Touring with a singer is no life for a kid. You'd better keep her,' he said harshly, gripping the door handle. ‘This D'Este,' he looked back at her, ‘he will marry you?'

‘I don't know.'

‘I've got two days' leave. I'll be staying with my father until tomorrow. Unless there's something you can think of that's relevant to the divorce, I'd rather not see you.' Closing the door he looked up the narrow staircase that led to the top floor. Eighteen steps later he was on the landing.

‘Captain Powell?' David Ford, no longer the immaculately turned out colonel, but half-dressed in braces and shirt-sleeves, opened a door and stepped out to meet him.

‘I'm here to see D'Este.'

‘I'm not sure that Captain D'Este wants to see you.'

‘He will, once he's heard what I've got to say.'

‘I take it you do just want to talk?'

‘In private.'

‘I owe the man an explanation, David.' Tomas D'Este stood in the doorway, a bandage holding a cold compress on his head, the bruise that had spread halfway across his face already deep purple.

‘If you want to throw any more punches, might I recommend you take it outside again, gentlemen, rather than risk disturbing the household and breaking the furniture,' David suggested drily.

Tomas opened the door wider and stepped back. Haydn followed him into a small room furnished with a canvas army cot and a trunk. An ashtray and a framed photograph of a middle-aged couple surrounded by children of various ages stood on a small folding table set in front of the window. Apart from the trunk, a canvas chair and regulation-issue canvas washing and toilet bags, and an open book on the bed, the place was bare. Not even a rug to cover the floorboards. It reminded Haydn of a monk's cell.

‘Please, sit down.' Tomas indicated the chair. ‘Would you like a cigarette?'

‘I'd prefer my own, thank you.' Haydn tapped one out of the packet he took from his breast pocket.

‘I'm sorry for what happened, Captain Powell. It's not Jane's fault. I lost my head.'

‘I haven't come for explanations. Are you prepared to look after her and Anne? Marry her when I divorce her?' He wanted to add ‘because if you're not, leave her alone …' but the proviso remained unspoken.

‘I love her. I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with her.' D'Este's frank reply took Haydn by surprise. He'd expected refusal, or at best evasion.

‘And Anne?'

‘She's Jane's daughter. I'd treat her like my own.'

‘Be sure you do.' Haydn pulled out his lighter and lit his cigarette.

‘That's it?' Tomas stared at Haydn incredulously. ‘You hit me, then you come up here and hand your wife over to me as though she's a piece of livestock.'

‘You don't know Jane very well if you think she'd allow anyone to treat her like a piece of merchandise.'

‘If you're doing this because you assume that we've been having an affair, you couldn't be more wrong. Jane would never do anything to compromise her marriage. She's the most honest and decent woman I've ever met.'

‘I know.' Haydn left the chair. ‘Which is why I've got more sense than to try and hold on to her when she loves you, not me.'

‘Captain Powell …' Tomas stood looking helplessly at him. ‘I never thought this would happen to me. Not with another man's wife.'

‘None of us knew what was coming when war broke out and our governments sent us careering all over the world, D'Este. Just take care of them. That's all I ask.'

‘Don't you want to stay in touch with Anne? You're her father. The most important figure in a girl's life.'

‘She doesn't even know who I am,' he said flatly. ‘She cries every time I go near her. You see her every day, D'Este. It would be easier all round if you take on that responsibility.'

Chapter Twenty

‘You're being stupid and stubborn. You just can't walk away from your responsibilities, Haydn. Jane's
your
wife. Anne's
your
child.'

‘And D'Este has promised to take care of them.'

Bethan stared at her brother in exasperation. ‘Then you don't love them any more?'

‘You know me, sis. Footloose and fancy free. A girl in every show.'

‘You don't mean that?'

‘Oh, but I do.' He kissed her cheek before climbing out of the passenger seat of her car.

‘She hasn't left the bedroom since you walked out of the house. I know that if you saw her just one more time, you could -'

‘I could do a great many things, Bethan, but I won't.' Pulling his railway warrant from his top pocket, he turned, leaned on top of the car and faced her.

‘You said yourself that you don't have to go until tomorrow. Dad …'

‘Dad is going to be all right. You and Phyllis will make sure of that. I saw what I came to see, you and him. And now,' he gave a wry smile as he heaved his kitbag from the back of her car, ‘it's time to go to Bristol and sort myself some female companionship for the duration of my stay there.'

‘Tit for tat. Is that it?'

‘Retaliation doesn't come into it. Chastity is for wives and monks. Not red-blooded males. Didn't you know that if we don't get our regular quota we go raving mad?'

‘That's rubbish.'

‘Not so,' he assured her gravely.

‘Then what about all the men in prison camps?'

‘They'll need a great deal of care and attention when they are released. Better start preserving your strength for when cashmere coat comes home now, Beth. You're going to need it.'

Bethan stared at her brother, wishing he'd drop the bravado for a moment, so she could reach out and talk to him the way she wanted to.

‘Take care of yourself, sis.' He stepped forward and kissed her again. ‘And enjoy your fling with your colonel. Remember, what the eye doesn't see the heart doesn't grieve.'

‘Haydn …'

‘There's no need to get on your moral high horse. You're a woman of the world. And this war isn't won yet, no matter what's happening in Italy. Live for today, for tomorrow we may die. There's nothing wrong with that philosophy provided you're discreet. Jane and I made the mistake of conducting our affairs in public.'

‘There's nothing going on between me and David Ford.'

‘The same nothing that's been going on between Jane and D'Este, and Aunt Megan and that cook?'

‘None of us are jumping into bed with the Yanks, if that's what you think.'

‘I know you aren't. That's what's so sad. If you did, you'd get it out of your system. Instead, you allow obsolete Victorian moral principles to rule your lives, and spend all your time brooding and regretting what can never be, because none of you have the courage to follow your instincts. Sleep with the colonel, Bethan. Who's to know or care? Cashmere coat certainly won't, stuck behind bars in Germany.'

‘But I would, Haydn. And when he comes back I want to be able to look him in the eye.'

‘Then brush up on your acting skills. Don't you think he'd prefer a happy, fulfilled wife to one who's going to spend the rest of her life sleeping beside him every night and wondering what it would have been like to take a tumble between the sheets with a handsome American?'

‘I take it you've never spent a sleepless night wondering?'

‘Never.' He flashed her a wide and shallow, theatrical smile.

‘And you're happy?'

‘I'm never lonely.'

‘And love?'

‘Is something that comes with lights out, and leaves before breakfast. You should try it. That way your days will never be complicated by excess emotion.'

‘You think you have all the answers, don't you?'

‘Just some of them.'

‘Would you give Jane the same advice?'

‘I already have.'

‘And the thought of her with another man doesn't bother you?' she asked, deliberately trying to provoke him into revealing his real feelings.

‘Jane's made her choice. I've left my address with Dad. I'll be there for the next six weeks. After that I'll be touring. I'll let you know where, once I start.'

‘And if Jane wants to get in touch?'

‘She can write.'

‘Then you'll give your marriage another chance?'

‘I'll sign the divorce papers, Bethan. That's all she wants from me. As I said, take care of yourself. And don't forget to “gather ye rosebuds while ye may”.'

‘Poetry from you?'

‘School was good for something.'

He hugged her and she clung to him. ‘Whether you like it or not, I'll take care of your wife and daughter.'

‘Get D'Este to relieve you of that load, sis. You can't look after the whole of Pontypridd.' Swinging his kitbag on to his shoulder he turned his back and walked towards the entrance.

‘It's Haydn Powell! … Haydn … our Haydn!'

Bethan heard the cries and saw half-a-dozen girls rush up to him. As they intercepted him at the entrance to the booking office he smiled, greeting them as though he hadn't a care in the world. When the prettiest held up her face, he kissed her cheek.

Bethan turned away bewildered and hurt by his cavalier attitude to his broken marriage. As she opened the car door she racked her brains trying to think of something she could do, something she could say to Haydn or Jane to make it come right again.

‘Mrs John, this is a pleasant surprise.' David Ford opened the door to his office and ushered her in. ‘I'm sorry I can't offer you tea, but we do have excellent coffee. And food.' He offered her a plate heaped high with meat and real butter sandwiches.

‘Coffee would be fine, thank you.' She sat in the chair he pulled out for her. ‘But I didn't come here to eat.'

‘It's lunchtime, and they brought me more than I need or want.' He sat in his chair and looked at her. ‘This isn't a social call, is it?'

‘I was hoping you could do something about the situation between Captain D'Este and my sister-in-law.'

‘I've found him a temporary billet closer to the hospital.'

‘That's not what I meant.'

‘It wasn't my suggestion. Under the circumstances he thought it would be best to move out of your house, and I didn't disagree with him. What happened last night …' he paused to pour and hand her coffee ‘… was extremely regrettable.'

‘It wasn't your fault.'

‘You warned me that my men were going to play havoc with the women of the town.' He pointed to a pile of papers on his desk. ‘Applications for permission to get married. And that's without the ones who have asked me informally for advice. Including Maurice Duval.'

‘Don't tell me he wants to marry Liza. She's only seventeen. ‘

‘Soon to be eighteen, according to the information he's given me.'

‘And she's agreed to marry him?'

‘He hasn't asked her – yet. But he will.'

‘That's ridiculous, they're children. There's her sisters to consider.'

‘All of which I pointed out to him. But he remains undeterred. Sergeant Morelli and your Aunt Megan aren't helping.'

‘No one can accuse them of letting their hearts rule their heads at their age.'

‘No?' He continued to look at her and she turned away uneasily. ‘The problem is, Mrs John, I understand the reasoning behind each and every one of these applications. Italy is just the beginning. It's inevitable that we're going to move out of here soon, and when we do, some of us will get killed. In the meantime we're living amongst pretty and lonely women. What could be more natural than falling in love, particularly when it may be your last chance to do so?'

‘Nothing, provided both parties are free.' She had the oddest feeling that they were no longer talking about Tomas and Jane.

‘If it's any consolation, as well as battered and bruised, Tomas is also feeling extremely guilty at the thought of breaking up a marriage.'

‘It's no consolation.' She rose to her feet. ‘I'm sorry, I don't know why I came here. If I'd thought about it I would have realised that there was nothing you could do.'

‘I only wish there were something.' He left his chair and opened the door. ‘You will tell Mrs Powell that Captain D'Este has moved?'

‘I'll tell her.'

‘I have his address …'

‘He knows hers, Colonel. If he wants to get in touch with her no doubt he will. Shall we leave it at that?'

‘She's here.'

Tomas D'Este fingered his blackened and swollen face as he looked at his colleague.

‘You're sure?'

‘Absolutely. I don't know why you thought she wouldn't come. You should have known that she wouldn't let the boys down.'

‘No. I suppose she wouldn't,' he said slowly, thinking of Peter Greaves and all the others she'd helped over the past months. He'd been a fool to think that she'd come to the hospital just in the hope of seeing him again.

‘You've got yourself into a right mess over her, haven't you?'

‘Yes.'

‘If it's any help …'

‘Take my word for it, whatever you were about to say, won't be any help at all. I keep telling myself she's married with a daughter. That I had no right to kiss her much less break up her marriage, but I can't help myself.'

‘You have got it bad.'

‘I never knew love could hurt so much.'

‘In that case, how about trying to take your mind off Jane Powell by rebuilding a shattered jaw?'

‘Greaves?'

‘Evan's. There was a time when you would have known who was on the list without any prompting.'

Crumpling the wrapper of the Baker's chocolate bar he'd just eaten, Tomas tossed it into the wastebin and followed Higgins out through the door.

Jane had never had such difficulty in concentrating on a conversation. Every time the door to the ward opened, she looked up expecting to see Tomas. She strained her ears, listening to voices drift in from the garden outside, but none had his Spanish lilt. The hands on the ward clock crawled sluggishly round, marking off seconds that dragged past more slowly than days, as she struggled in vain to understand what Peter was telling her.

‘You got problems, Jane?' he asked after she'd ignored his third direct question.

‘No.'

‘Liar,' he contradicted her fondly. ‘I've just asked you what you thought about the Russians invading Australia and all you did was murmur “Mmm”.'

‘I'm sorry. I'll try to pay more attention.'

‘This isn't school.'

‘I'm interested in what you're saying.'

‘No, you're not. And I don't mind, really. I don't expect even the most perfect visitor to be perfect all the time. It's not your husband, is it?'

‘What do you mean?' she asked quickly, wondering if gossip about the fight between Haydn and Tomas had reached the hospital.

‘He's in a war zone?'

‘No, Bristol.'

‘And your little girl is all right?'

‘Wonderful.'

‘Then everything is OK?'

‘As OK as it can be in wartime.'

‘And it's still all right for me to come and stay with you and your sister-in-law at the end of the month?'

‘Of course,' she lied, crossing her fingers behind her back. She and Bethan had hardly spoken since Haydn had left, and she had no idea how Bethan felt about her and Anne staying on in her home now that Haydn was divorcing her, let alone a strange man she had befriended. The one time she had dared broach the subject over a hurried breakfast, Bethan had been most insistent that as far as she was concerned nothing had changed, and Haydn would come to his senses, sooner or later. But then Bethan hadn't seen Haydn's face when he had told her he would admit adultery to speed their divorce. She dreaded the time when she would have to face the situation, because it would mean losing not only Haydn, but also the family she had come to regard as her own.

‘Sorry, I was a bit preoccupied.' She squeezed Peter's hand. ‘I promise I'll be back to my normal self next week.'

‘This visiting lark can cut both ways, you know. You helped me with my problems. I could help you with yours, if you let me.'

‘I wish you could.'

‘Try me?'

‘Perhaps I will, but not now. There isn't time.' She smiled in relief as the sister rang the bell for the end of visiting.

‘It's nothing to do with Captain D'Este, is it?'

She stared at him, wondering if his question was a roundabout way of confirming rumours, or if she and Tomas had made their attraction to one another that obvious.

‘We've all seen the way he looks at you,' he explained.

‘Mrs Powell, it's time,' the sister called.

‘See you next week.' Glad of an excuse to get away, she almost ran down the ward and into the foyer where Tomas was waiting for her.

‘Want a ride?'

She shook her head.

‘You can't avoid me for ever, Jane.' He dropped his voice to a whisper as he drew closer. ‘We need to talk.'

‘I don't want to go to the New Inn.'

‘I wasn't suggesting we should. Come on.'

He drove to the field where he had kissed her for the first time. Then it had been high summer, now there was a chill in the air that portended autumn. Driving across the verge, he parked the bike and waited to help her over the gate. She hesitated for a moment before taking his hand.

‘I'm sorry about your face,' she apologised, moving away from him as soon as her feet touched the ground.

‘I would have done the same if I was your husband and caught a stranger kissing you.'

‘But you're not my husband.'