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Authors: Freda Lightfoot

For All Our Tomorrows (22 page)

BOOK: For All Our Tomorrows
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‘You’ve got to be joking,’ Bette laughed. ‘It’s a hard slog up there. I think we’ll take it slowly, and save our breath for the climb. Once we’ve got Lantic Bay in our sights, we’ll have this out good and proper.’

 

They felt as if they’d walked for miles. Along West Street with its panoramic view of Fowey, looking even more beautiful somehow from this side of the river. Then on past the block-house, now a ruin but once used for coastal defences back in the fifteenth century when a heavy chain was slung across the harbour entrance to a similar blockhouse on the Fowey side, intended to keep out the French.

‘It’s strange that the French are welcomed as allies now, when you think how we used to fight them once-over. Hugh has even started to learn the language. Most odd, but I heard him practising some phrases the other day.’

‘Maybe he’s going to take you to Paris for a second honeymoon.’

Sara frowned, wondering if that could be true, and if she would enjoy it if it were.

As they walked on past the coastguard station, Sara wondered if he was away on coastguard service today, and if Iris was with him. She certainly wasn’t at The Ship, as Sid was managing on his own, with Sara doing the meals upstairs, of course. He’d been gone for a few days on this, his latest mission and she knew he wasn’t with the lifeboat, as the familiar dark blue vessel was standing anchored in the river, ever ready for service. Where he went, or what he did on these trips, she hadn’t the first idea, nor dare she risk any further questions on the subject but simply sent up a silent prayer each time that he would come back safe and sound.

She did once try to break the rules while he was away, and sneaked behind the bar to help, as the pub was so busy, but Sid wouldn’t have it. ‘Lose my job, if not my scalp, were Mr Marrack to find out.’

Even when he was absent, she was compelled to behave like an obedient wife. Although she did once provide lunch for a group of American officers, which neither Sid nor Hugh knew anything about. Charlie had been among them. They’d had a hard time of it keeping their glances apart, and when she’d placed a bowl of soup before him, his fingers had accidentally touched hers. Sara felt as if she’d been scalded.

The children found it a long, hard struggle up Battery Lane but they came at last out onto the grassy slopes of St. Saviour’s Point and then burst into a run, as children do. From here, the coastguard lookout could see for fifty miles or more, from Prawle Point in the east, past the Eddystone light off Plymouth to Black Head and The Manacles near the Lizard in the west.

Today the sea looked calm, almost benign, but Sara knew this to be false. There was no element more dangerous and somewhere, out on those cold, unfriendly waters, among that vast assortment of enemy and friendly shipping, was her husband.

Did his heart lift whenever he sighted the ruined buttress of St. Saviour’s ancient chapel, as sailors by the score must have done in years gone by? Did he think of her and long to rush to her side, as they must have done, eager to be with their sweethearts and wives?

She rather thought not. His kisses these days were more chaste and dutiful than passionate. Whatever had gone wrong between them, she didn’t seem able to put right.

Sara sighed, and walked on, putting her romantic visions aside.

They followed the coastal path which would ultimately lead to Polperro, were they to have the time and energy to walk so far; the coves of Lantic Bay, Lanivet Bay and Lansallos Beach closed to them which made Drew shout out in his little boy voice how much he hated the war.

‘It’s so unfair,’ he said, stamping his feet and making them all laugh. ‘Those nasty Germans have spoiled my fishing.’

 

The walk was strenuous and they were ready to sit down and rest by the time they found a small sandy hollow far enough away from the hustle and bustle to set out their picnic. Deprived of the thrill of going down into one of the pretty little coves to build sand castles and paddle, or fish in rock pools, the children happily engrossed themselves with digging trenches.

‘I’m going to shoot at all the German planes that go over, Mummy.’

‘Are you, darling? How very brave of you. Well, make sure they’re not ours before you do fire at them, won’t you?’

‘Course I will. What I really need is a telescope, like Daddy’s, then I can spot what all these ships are, make sure I’m not being spied on, like Daddy does. Oh!’ He stopped talking, going suddenly very red. Sara laughed.

‘I rather think Drew is hoping that this war will go on long enough for him to join up. Fortunately, at five, I reckon he’s fairly safe, don’t you? They say one last push and it will all be over. I wonder what will happen to us then? We’ll be free to choose and make plans for a new beginning.’

Both sisters fell silent, trying to imagine how freedom would feel after all these years. Sara felt uncertain, even afraid of the future, which was stupid. She longed for the war to end, so that Hugh would never need to go to sea again. He would be home all the time and Charles Denham, along with the rest of the US marines, would return home.

Somehow this thought didn’t bring her the cheer it should. Bette, she could see, was filled with a nervous energy, bursting to unburden herself even further. Sara wasn’t sure she wanted to hear any more confessions. ‘Tea?’ She began to pour from the thermos while Bette handed out sandwiches.

Jenny screwed up her small nose. ‘Ooh, not fish paste again.’

Drew made a vomiting sound in his throat. ‘Why can’t we have egg, or some of that peanut butter stuff Charlie brings us?’

‘Charlie?’ Bette raised her eyebrows.

‘The children call him that. The peanut butter is for the fête, not for greedy little boys to gobble up,’ and she tickled her small son, making him giggle.

Bette archly commented. ‘Perhaps Mummy could ask Charlie to get you some to have all to yourself? I’m sure he would, if Mummy asked him.’

‘Would he, Mummy? Ask him, ask him, ask him,’ Drew yelled, Jenny chiming in.

‘Now look what you’ve done. Calm down, children. I’ll see what I can do. Yes, I promise, now run along and play but don’t go anywhere near the edge. We don’t want you falling down the cliffs.’

‘We’d get blown up by a mine,’ yelled Drew. ‘
Bang
! And you’d be in little bits, Jenny, like Little Black Mingo in the story book.’

‘I wouldn’t, would I Mummy?’

‘For goodness sake, play quietly for once the pair of you, and stop frightening her, Drew. Just be good and stay where I can see you.’

Bette’s eyes were twinkling. ‘What will they say when they hear they’re going to have a little cousin? I do wonder how our children will turn out when they grow up, don’t you? Will they make the same sort of mess of their lives as we have.’

‘Speak for yourself.’ Sara bit into a fish paste sandwich and, despite her earlier comment, wrinkled her own nose. She was as bored with it as the children, but it was cheap and plentiful in these parts, so they should consider themselves fortunate.

‘You can’t claim to be happy with bossy Hugh. He’s so – so controlling! “You must do as I tell you, Sara. No, you may not serve in the bar, Sara. Good heavens, one of those dreadful men might take a shine to you, darling. Stay upstairs out of the way, and be a good, obedient little wife.’ Bette gave a mocking salute, then fell about laughing. ‘A bit of a little Hitler himself, in a way.’

Sara couldn’t help but giggle. She always did find Bette’s impersonations so life-like and funny. It could easily have been Hugh, the tone of voice absolutely right.

‘And you let him. Yes sir. No sir. Three bags full sir.’
 

‘I don’t all the time.’

‘Yes, you do.’

Sara was frowning now. ‘I suppose I married the first man who came along and thought him a real catch. Now, I’m not so sure. He’s changed recently. Behaving even more oddly than he did after Valda died. His poor mother used to tell me how she’d failed him, not ever being able to love him as she should. How he was the sort of little boy who loved to pull wings off flies, and how she’d never known him to actually cry. He’s impervious to pain, she’d say, his own and other people’s. I paid not the slightest attention, yet I’m beginning to wonder if perhaps she wasn’t trying to warn me, in her gentle way.

‘Now he’s told me I must resign from the War Weapons committee. I’m not to do any more war work, would you believe? I’m to stay at home and be a proper wife and mother.’

Bette had been listening sympathetically as her sister poured out her heart, now she was outraged. ‘What? And to hell with the fact that you enjoy the work and want to carry on.’

‘It would seem my wishes are of no account.’

Bette made a growling noise deep in her throat. ‘I assume this is because he doesn’t approve of the contact it gives you with the Americans.’

‘That’s about the size of it.’

‘And you’ve been seeing quite a lot of this Lieutenant Denham. Do you perhaps fancy him just the tiniest bit? Ah, you’re blushing again, so I’ll take that as a yes.’

‘It’s impossible.’

‘Why?’

‘You know why. He’s married. I’m married.’

‘You could get unmarried. It’s been done before, I believe.’

‘Don’t be flippant, Bette. This is so awful. Dreadful! I can’t believe I feel this way, like a young girl again. A silly young girl. And there are the children to consider. Even if Hugh ever agreed to the unthinkable disgrace of a divorce, he’d never let me have the children. Never! Oh, God, Bette, what a mess! Why ever did these men have to come here, to our town?’

‘Oh, and aren’t we glad that they did. Does he feel the same way?’

Sara gave the barest inclination of her head.

‘So what are you going to do about it?’

‘What can I do?’

‘I could make one or two suggestions, though as you never take my advice, I shan’t waste my breath. Let’s just say that when I love someone, as I do Barney, I don’t give up easily. It isn’t going to be easy getting official permission to marry, but we’re quite determined to get it. You’ll see, any moment now, I’ll be Mrs Barney Willert. And, even more exciting, I’ve persuaded him to wangle transport to ship me out to the states.’

There was a long, strained silence while Sara’s eyes widened in shock. ‘America? You’re going to America? When did you decide this?’

‘Oh, lord, I forgot to mention that, didn’t I? I can’t stay here, can I, when my husband is American with a good business back in the States? And what is the point with the war almost over? I could be getting things ready for him back in his home town, getting to know his folks. Don’t look at me like that, Sara, I have to get out of this place. I couldn’t face the reproachful glances, the whispering behind hands that would be bound to go on here if I stayed.’

‘You don’t care what people think. You never have. You want to go because you’ve always yearned to travel.’

Looking shame-faced, Bette patted her golden curls with slender, pink tipped fingers. ‘Well, that’s true. I can’t deny it.’ Her eyes were shining now, a brilliance to them more gold than green. ‘There’s a whole world out there, away from this small town. Don’t you just ache to explore it?’

‘Not really.’

‘Oh, I do. I can’t wait, I’m so excited.’

‘I’ll miss you.’

Bette’s face suddenly fell and all the happiness vanished from it. ‘Oh, and I’ll miss you too. I was so thrilled, so wrapped up in my own happiness, I never thought about the fact I’d be leaving you. How could I be so dim? What will I do without you?’ And the two sisters fell into each other’s arms, tears rolling down their cheeks.

‘You’ll cope fine. Everyone will fall in love with you, as they always do and be putty in your hands,’ Sara said, drying both their tears with one soggy hanky.

‘And you, what about you? Can you cope on your own, without me? With only Sadie to share your troubles with?’

‘Oh goodness, don’t you worry about me. I can look after myself.’

‘I’m not so sure. When does Hugh get back from this latest trip?’

‘I don’t know. I’m never sure how long these expeditions might last. Soon, I should think. I hope. I do worry about him.’

‘And will you tell him, about Charles Denham - Charlie?’

‘Lord no, far too dangerous. Anyway, there’s nothing to tell. I’ve no intention of ever seeing Charlie again, not alone anyway. It has to stop now, before it goes any further.’

‘I wish you would tell him. I wish you’d have a mad, passionate affair and then confront Hugh with it. And I wish you’d do it before I leave so that I can see you happy at last. Oh, and I’d just love to see Hugh’s arrogance pricked.’

‘That’s a horrible thing to say.’

Bette giggled. ‘Ok, but I really would. Anyway, you know that we’ve always looked after each other, so if I were still here, I could console you and pick up the pieces when he explodes like a big, fat balloon.’

‘Or like a land-mine.
Bang
!’ And for some reason neither girl could have explained, they both found this terribly funny and began to shriek with laughter, even as tears again began to fall.

 

Chapter Twenty-One

Hugh and Iris were out at sea, not in driving rain this time but in considerable danger nonetheless. They’d been waiting nearly twenty-four hours for a rendezvous and still there was no sign of it taking place. He was beginning to sweat with fear, despite the chill night. The pick-up was the crew of two American bombers who were shot down over Paris three months ago. Half a dozen men had survived the attack and been evading capture ever since, protected by the French Underground, hidden in cellars and lofts, barns and haystacks, wherever the Bosch might not think to look, or have already searched.
 

BOOK: For All Our Tomorrows
11.55Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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