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Authors: Lucy Gordon

BOOK: His Diamond Bride
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The thought of the lonely time without him lent urgency
to her movements. In the past she'd fought down the blazing desire that almost overcame her when she was in his arms, but tonight she didn't want to be controlled and virtuous. She wanted to let herself go and risk whatever the future held. If that meant being a ‘bad girl', then so be it, as long as she could say that just once he'd been hers.

He lifted his head and his eyes and his breathing told her that he was in the same state. Another moment and they would become each other's and who cared for anything else?

‘Mark,' she whispered, ‘
Mark
—'

‘Do you want me?'

‘Yes—'

Urgently, he drew her down onto the grass and she gave herself up to the feel of his lips on her neck, drifting lower as he opened the buttons of her blouse. High above, the spring moon beamed down on her like a blessing, and she prepared herself for what would surely be the most beautiful experience of her life.

Transported, she didn't hear the door opening behind them, only her mother's voice coming out of nowhere in an outraged cry of,
‘You can stop that!'

She felt Mark freeze on top of her, heard his muttered curse. Then he drew away, helping her to her feet.

‘Mum,' she said desperately, ‘it's not—'

‘Don't you try to fool me, my girl. I know what it's not, and I know what it
is
. It's shameful, that's what it is. I thought you were a good girl, with more self-respect.'

‘Come on, Helen,' her husband begged under his voice. ‘After all, didn't we—?'

‘You hush.' She turned on him furiously.

‘Yes, dear.'

‘You—' she turned on Mark ‘—you should be ashamed of yourself, acting like that in a decent home. Just what do you think my daughter is?'

‘Well, I was hoping she'd become my wife,' Mark replied.

Slowly, Dee turned her head towards him as the world exploded about her, full of blazing light and riotous colours. It had happened. He'd proposed. She would be his wife. Every dream had come true. Passionate joy held her speechless.

Helen, too, was briefly dumb, but she was the first to recover. ‘That puts a different face on it,' she said, cautious and not entirely yielding. ‘If you mean it.'

‘I was going to ask Dee tonight, only you interrupted me.'

Joe began to edge his wife away. ‘Goodnight, you two,' he said with a touch of desperation as he managed to get Helen inside.

Dee's head was clearing and her sensible side reasserting itself, as it had a terrible habit of doing. She'd be a fool to believe this.

‘It's all right, Mark,' she said in a low voice. ‘You don't have to marry me.'

He regarded her, his head on one side. ‘Maybe I want to. Have you thought of that?'

‘You don't want to. You just had to divert my mother. I understand.'

‘Now you've insulted me,' he said cheerfully.

‘Have I?'

‘There I am, learning to take to the skies and fight Hitler, and you think I'm afraid of your mother. She's formidable, I grant you, but I'm not scared of her.'

She gave a shaky laugh. ‘I didn't mean that, but you know as well as I do that you weren't going to propose if we hadn't got caught.'

‘Well, perhaps she did us a favour by showing us the way. Are you saying you don't want to marry me?'

‘It's not that, it's just—'

He put his hands on her shoulders and spoke lightly. ‘My
darling, will you give a straight answer to a straight question? Are you turning me down?'

‘No, of course not, I—'

‘Then are you accepting me?'

She looked up into his face, trying to read the truth behind his quizzical expression. She saw humour and good nature, but not the answer she needed.

‘Yes or no?' he persisted.

‘Yes,' she said with a kind of desperation. It wasn't the proposal she'd dreamed of, and in her heart she knew something about it wasn't right, but there was no way she could turn down the chance to make him hers.

‘Does that mean we're engaged?'

‘Yes,' she choked.
‘Oh, yes!'

This time their kiss was relatively restrained, since both knew that Helen was watching them from the kitchen window. As they returned slowly to the house, she was waiting for them. Joe produced drinks to celebrate, then Helen declared that it was late and Mark would be wanting to get home. She wore a fixed smile but both her expression and her tone said,
No hanky-panky in this house.

Mark gave Dee a rueful smile and departed under the steely gaze of his future mother-in-law.

‘Congratulations, love,' Joe said, embracing his daughter.

‘Yes, you got him to the finishing post,' Helen agreed, although she couldn't resist adding, ‘with a bit of help.'

‘Mum!'

‘He'd have taken his time proposing if I hadn't prodded him on. Never mind. We managed it. We should be proud of ourselves.'

‘But that's not how it's supposed to happen,' Dee protested.

‘The important thing is, it happened. You wouldn't want him going off to the Air Force without having his ring on your
finger. He wasn't going to propose, just fool around with you and then on to the next. Look what he did to Sylvia.'

‘Look what she did to him,' Dee said quickly.

‘Does she still write to you, love?' Joe asked gently. She had told them about the first letter and read out some, but not all of its contents.

‘Now and then. Doesn't she ever write to you?'

‘She's tried,' Helen said. ‘I tear them up.'

‘Before I even see them,' Joe said sadly. ‘We don't even know where she is.'

‘She hasn't told me her address,' Dee said. ‘But she's living with Phil and in her last letter she said she'd just discovered that she was pregnant.'

Helen stiffened. ‘So as well as being a whore, she's going to have a little bastard. I want nothing to do with her. Anyway, at least we'll have one respectable marriage in this family. Get him tied to you while you can, my girl. I've done my best for you. Now it's up to you.'

If she'd thought to encourage Dee into marriage by this means, she was mistaken. Whatever Mark said, she couldn't rid herself of the shamed feeling that he'd simply taken the line of least resistance. One part of her mind urged her to rush the ceremony before he could back off, but the other part refused to do it.

 

These days the world seemed to be thrown into sharp relief, and everything had a sense of ‘one last time before the war'. Any party or celebration, every anniversary, any piece of good fortune, must be enjoyed to the full. Just in case.

‘There's a fair on Hampstead Heath,' Mark told her one evening. ‘Let's go. We never know when there'll be another one.'

The Heath was a magical place, a great green park barely four miles from the centre of London. It had always been a
popular venue for fairs, and especially now as the dark days approached.

As they neared the fair, they could hear the unmistakable sound of the hurdy-gurdy blaring over the distance. From far off, the giant wheel glittered as it turned against the night.

‘I've always wanted to go up on one of those,' she breathed.

‘We will, I promise.'

Close up, the wheel was even more dazzling.

‘Ever been on one?' Mark asked.

‘No. I've often wanted to, but I was always at the fair with my parents and Mum said, “You don't want to go on those dangerous things”. And I didn't know how to tell her that I did want to
because
they were dangerous.'

‘Right,' he said. ‘Come on.' He bought the tickets and took her hand firmly. ‘Those seats rock back and forth like mad, so hold onto me.'

From the moment they sat down and she felt the seat swinging beneath her, Dee felt as though she'd come home. Nothing in her life had ever been as exciting as when she was lifted high into the air, over the top of the wheel, then the descent when, for a moment, there seemed to be nothing but air between herself and the earth beneath. Then again, and again, loving it more every moment.

‘Wheeeee!' she shrieked as they arrived back at the bottom for the final time. ‘I want to go again.'

He took her up three times, finally saying, ‘Leave it for now. There are other rides, just as exciting.'

‘Lead me to them!'

Her eyes were gleaming as they approached the roller coaster, and she looked up the climb with an eagerness that anticipated the pleasure to come. She could just see a car reaching the summit and hear the shrieks as it sped down.

‘Come
on!
' she begged.

He looked at her curiously. ‘Aren't you afraid?'

‘What of?' she asked blankly.

‘You'll find out,' he said, grinning.

When they were seated he made as if to put an arm around her. ‘But perhaps you're too brave to need my help?' he teased.

‘I don't think I'm quite as brave as that,' she conceded, pulling his arm about her shoulders.

The cars moved off, slowly at first, climbing the long slope to the summit, then plunging down at ever increasing speed while she screamed with pleasure and huddled closer to him.

After two more rides he insisted that they get out, at least for a while.

‘You may not need a rest, but I do,' he gasped. ‘Where's the beer tent?'

In the tent, they sat down and sipped light ale. Every nerve throughout her body was singing with excitement, but the greatest pleasure was the look Mark was giving her, as though seeing her for the first time and admiring what he saw.

‘I never guessed you enjoyed that kind of thing,' he said.

‘Neither did I. If I'd known, I'd have done it sooner.'

‘Most girls don't care for it,' he said, speaking more quietly than was usual with him.

And suddenly Sylvia was there with them, gasping and clinging to them in horror after her ride in the sidecar, vowing
never again
.

‘I'm not most girls,' Dee said brightly. ‘I'm mad. Hadn't you heard?'

‘If I hadn't, I know now.'

She drained her glass and held it out. ‘Can I have another one?'

‘No,' he said in alarm. ‘Your mother would kill me. She already disapproves of me, even though we're engaged.'

Dee nodded. Helen wanted them married for the sake of respectability, but only that morning she'd said, ‘I know he can
talk the hind legs off a donkey and he's got a cheeky smile, but you mark my words. He's a bad boy!'

Which was true, Dee thought. Mark's ‘bad boy' aspect was seldom on display, but it was always there, just below the surface. It lived in uneasy partnership with his generous side and it made him thrilling. But she wouldn't have dared to tell her mother that. She didn't fully understand it herself. She only knew that he lived in her heart as the most exciting man in the world and she wouldn't have him any different.

CHAPTER SEVEN

W
HEN
they came to the dodgems she insisted on their taking a car each so that they could bash each other. Once behind the wheel, she laid into him with a will. But he gave as good as he got and when they joined up again afterwards they agreed that honours were even.

But in one thing he beat her hollow—on the rifle range his aim was perfect. He scored bullseyes with ease and was offered his pick of the prizes on display. He chose a small fluffy teddy bear and solemnly presented it to her.

She fell in love with it at once. The face was slightly lopsided, giving it an air of cheeky humour that she instantly recognised.

‘He's you,' she said.

‘Me?' he asked, startled.

‘Well, he's rather better-looking than you, of course,' she said, considering. ‘But that cocky air is exactly you. My bruin.'

‘Bruin?'

‘It's an old word for bear. This isn't just an ordinary bear. He's
my
bear. He's a real bruin.' She dropped a kiss on the furry little fellow's snout.

‘I'm jealous,' Mark said.

‘How can you be jealous of yourself?' she demanded, tucking the toy safely into her bag.

‘I'll think about that.'

He bought two ice creams and they wandered through the fair, hand in hand. Dee thought she'd never known such a happy evening.

‘Will you take me on the roller coaster again?' she asked.

‘Am I allowed to say no?'

‘Not a chance.'

Suddenly a yell came out of the darkness.

‘Look at that!' someone breathed, pointing upward, horrified and admiring at the same time.

High above them stretched what looked like a hollow pole made of metal latticework. A string of lights went up the middle, gleaming against the metal strips and illuminating the man who was climbing to the top.

‘He shouldn't be doing that!'

‘He's crazy!'

‘Yes, but what a climber!'

The shouts filled the air, but the climbing man seemed oblivious to the sensation he was creating. Up, up he moved, never looking down, untroubled by the height, although the pole was beginning to sway.

‘Is he going right to the top?'

‘He won't dare. It isn't safe.'

It seemed that the man agreed, because he stopped and made a dramatic gesture to the crowd below, signifying the end of the performance. Cheers erupted as he began to descend and applause filled the air.

‘What's that for?' Mark demanded indignantly. ‘He got nowhere near the top.'

‘He got pretty high, though,' Dee pointed out.

‘Anybody can settle for second best. It's reaching the top that matters.'

‘Yes, if you want to risk your neck for nothing,' she said.

As soon as the words were out she knew they were a mistake and the look on Mark's face confirmed it. To him, the
risk alone was worth it. The more danger, the more fun; those had been his words.

‘Mark—wait!' she cried as he turned away, resolution written in every line of his body.

He ignored her, if he even heard her. Terrified now, she seized his arm and at last he turned.

‘Take your hands off me,' he said softly.

‘Mark, please—'

‘Let go,
now!
'

She'd never heard such a tone from him before, or seen such a look in his eyes. Where was the sweet-tempered joker that she loved? Gone, and in his place this hard-faced man who would brook no interference in his wishes.

‘I told you to let me go,' he repeated coldly.

Appalled, she stepped back, her hands falling away from him as the strength drained out of them.

He was a stranger, a man she'd never met before and never wanted to meet again. In her heart she'd always known something like this was waiting for them, a moment when she would look down the road ahead and shiver.

Mark saw her withdrawn expression and misunderstood it.

‘It's all right,' he said, speaking more gently. ‘I know what I'm doing.'

He was gone before she could reply, striding towards the terrifying pole, leaping onto the bottom rung and climbing fast before anyone could stop him. Now there were more cheers, mingled with screams.

Dee's heart almost stopped. It was unbearable to watch him, yet impossible to look away. He was approaching the point where the first man had given up. If only he would be satisfied with going a little further and claiming victory! Surely that would be enough for him!

‘Please, please,' she whispered. ‘Make him stop—let him be satisfied without going to the top.'

But he wouldn't be satisfied with less, she knew that. It had to be all or nothing. That was how he was made.

The crowd roared as he reached the crucial point and climbed beyond it. On the ground, the other climber groaned and swore. ‘Show-off,' he growled.

‘And what were you?' Dee turned on him.

‘All right, I'm a show-off too, but I knew when to stop. The metal's much thinner up there. It won't support him.'

Right on cue, a metal strut bent under Mark's foot. He hesitated, clinging on, looking down, then looking up.

‘Come down,' yelled someone. ‘Be sensible.'

Fatal. Be sensible! Like a red rag to a bull, Dee thought frantically.

At last he tightened his grip, raised his head to the sky and began to climb again. The pole swayed but this time the crowd didn't scream. Instead, there was silence, as though the universe had stopped until they knew what would happen.

Four more rungs, then three—two—one—and finally—

The roar was deafening as Mark reached the summit and threw up one arm in victory, waving down at them as the applause streamed up to him in waves.

‘Did you see that?'

‘What a hero that man must be!'

‘He's not afraid of anything.'

Gradually he descended while everyone in the crowd crossed their fingers, willing him to succeed, until at last he vanished into their open arms and the roar exploded again.

‘Hey, aren't you with him?'

Dee opened her eyes to see a young couple.

‘We saw you talking,' the boy said. ‘Are you his girlfriend?'

‘I…er…yes.'

‘You must be so proud of him,' the girl sighed. To her companion she said, ‘You never do things like that.'

‘Then you're very lucky,' Dee said with a tartness that even took herself by surprise and moved away quickly.

Mark saw her coming and threw up his arms, his eyes alight. Everything in his manner said,
How about that?

‘Are you all right?' she asked.

‘Of course I'm all right. It was nothing.'

‘It was reckless and stupid,' said a man who'd appeared behind him. He was middle-aged and heavily built. ‘I'm the owner of this fair and I've a good mind to hand you over to the police for damage to my property.'

There were cries of indignation. ‘You can't do that—we're gonna need fellows like him soon—'

‘I didn't say I was going to,' the owner defended himself. ‘I've never seen anything like it.' He shook Mark's hand. ‘Just don't do it again.'

Roars of laughter. More applause. Congratulations. Dee watched, wondering why she couldn't join in the general delight, but she didn't want to spoil it for him so she tried to smile brightly as she approached, playing the role of the woman proud to bursting point of her man.

Clearly it was what he was expecting, for he flung his arms around her and drew her close in an exuberant embrace. The crowd loved that, clapping their hands, laughing and hooting.

She never heard them. The feel of his lips on hers almost deprived her of her senses. It wasn't the kiss she longed for, intimate, loving, personal. It was a kiss for show, but it was the best she could hope for and she would relish every moment. She kissed him back, putting her heart into it, wondering if he could ever recognise that she even had a heart.

The crowd's applause brought her back down to earth. Embarrassed, she drew back and began to walk away.

‘You're very quiet,' he said as he caught up with her. ‘Are you annoyed with me?'

‘You're an idiot!' she told him.

‘No question!' He rested his hands on her shoulders. ‘I know I'm a fool, but you'll forgive me, won't you? It's just me, it's the way I am. Once a fool, always a fool.'

She pulled the toy bear out of her bag and held him up so that they could look at each other, face to face.

‘You hear that?' she said. ‘He admitted he's a fool. I suppose you're on his side. Mad bruins, both of you.'

He chuckled. ‘Mad Bruin. I like it.'

She knew a little flare of anger at his lack of understanding. She'd suffered a thousand agonies watching him, but that had never occurred to him. He'd seen only what he wanted to do and the satisfaction it gave him. Now he was up in the clouds, bursting with delight, and no thought for her.

But then, she thought, why should he think of her? He didn't know that she was in love with him. It probably hadn't occurred to him that she suffered.

Stop complaining, she told herself. You chose to become engaged to a man who's not in love with you. Live with it!

‘Wait here,' she said, rising suddenly and darting away.

In a few moments she was back at the stall where he'd won the little bear.

‘He's lonely,' she said, holding Bruin up. ‘He wants his mate. How much to buy her?'

‘You're supposed to win her,' the stall-holder protested.

‘With my aim, we'll be here all night. How much?'

He haggled briefly but gave in and sold her the little toy, identical to the other except for a frilly skirt. Then she raced back to Mark and thrust her trophy into his hand.

‘There you are! Now we both have one.'

‘You won this? I'm impressed.'

Briefly she was torn by temptation, but wisdom prevailed. ‘No, I persuaded him to sell her to me.'

‘How much?'

She grimaced. ‘One shilling and sixpence.'

‘
How much?
That's a fortune. You could buy several pints of beer for that.'

‘I buy only the best,' she assured him. ‘This is female Bruin, and she's going to keep an eye on you for me.'

‘Going to nag me, eh?'

‘Definitely. And spy on you, and report back to me if you get up to mischief.' But then she added in a quieter voice, ‘And look after you.'

‘Stop me doing stupid things?'

‘Something like that.'

‘Then I'd better look after her,' he said. He made as if to tuck the toy into his jacket but held her up at the last minute.

‘She says it's getting late and we ought to go home,' he said.

‘And she's always right.'

Hand in hand, they strolled out of the fair.

She remembered that evening long afterwards, for it was the last one of its kind. Soon after that, the lights of London went out one night, leaving the city in darkness and people groping their way home.

‘It's only a trial,' Joe reassured them, holding up a candle. ‘When the war starts, London will have to be blacked out for its own safety every night. This is to warn us to get ready.'

Sure enough, the lights eventually returned, but the sudden darkness had brought the truth home as nothing else could have done. Now it was real. Mark was no longer an Auxiliary but a part of the official Air Force, his skills honed to a fine edge, waiting for the formal declaration of war, and at last it came.

Now nothing would ever be the same again.

Mark managed a brief visit. Helen treated him as an honoured guest, preparing a special supper and leaving Dee only a few moments alone with him before he had to leave for the
airfield where he would always be on call. As she watched him walk away, she wondered when or if she would see him again.

 

All around her the world was changing. Children were evacuated out of London to distant farms, men joined up or were conscripted, young women also joined up or went to work in factories or on farms, replacing the men. Dee briefly considered joining the Women's Auxiliary Air Force, an ambition that Mr Royce crushed without hesitation.

‘You're a nurse—or you will be when you've passed your exams, very soon. I expect you to do well, and you'll be far more use to your country exercising your medical skills.'

It was the closest anyone had heard him come to a compliment.

By now, everyone knew that war would be declared any day, and when it finally happened on 3rd September there was almost a sense of relief in the air. Now they could get on with things. Some of the patients even cheered.

Dee kept smiling, but when she was alone she slipped away into the hospital chapel and sat there, thinking of Mark, wondering what the future held.

Her exams came and went. Later, she could barely remember taking them, but she passed well and was offered a permanent job at the hospital.

Congratulations abounded. Matron told her she'd always known it would happen. Mr Royce, no longer a distant figure of authority, approached her in the canteen and insisted on buying her a cup of tea ‘to celebrate'.

Mark managed to make it back for a small family celebration, but most of the day was spent building the Anderson shelter. These shelters were made of sheets of corrugated iron, bolted together at the top, with steel plates at either end. They were set up in the garden, sunk as far as possible in the earth, for greater safety.

‘I'm not sleeping in that thing,' Helen declared. ‘We'll be better off in the house.'

‘Not if they start to bomb this part of London,' Mark murmured.

He was reticent on the subject of his own sorties. Hitler was invading Europe, the British army had advanced in return and the Air Force was deployed to assist them. These bare facts were common knowledge, and beyond them he would say little.

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