THE WAR BRIDE CLUB (33 page)

      
Betty.
 

      Maybe Betty could help her.
 

      Betty knew what it was like to be alone and with a child. She would help her, wouldn’t she?

      She could go into town tomorrow, use the telephone at the post office and find Betty.
 

      Madeline had probably missed other get togethers between the girls, but if she could track her down, find Betty, maybe it would be her salvation.
 

      All those girls would be there for her, would understand why she had to leave. Why hadn’t she just tried to find them from the start? Instead of wishing to see them, thinking about her friends, and doing nothing about it. Lauren had been a great friend when she’d needed someone, but only another war bride, one of the girls who had come over here and gone through what she had, could ever truly understand.      

      She could see if Betty was able to help her arrange transportion, stay with her perhaps, and try to work out a plan.
 

      Roy would hate it. But so long as she had the right excuse to go into town for an excursion, perhaps to purchase something necessary for Charlotte, then there wouldn’t be any fuss.
 

      They needn’t know she was going to stay with Betty. Not until she’d gone. She could leave a note, disappear while no one was about, and take time to clear her head.
 

      If only Betty was prepared to help.
 

* * *

Madeline’s plan had been easier to execute than she’d expected. Aside from a sneer from her mother-in-law, she’d managed to slip out of the house easily enough. Thankfully she’d learned to drive while working at the bank, so she chugged away in the old car, making her way into town.
 

      She hadn’t considered taking the car and driving to Betty’s, and it probably wasn’t a good idea. She could disappear with Charlotte and just be a mother vacationing with a friend. Taking the car would be stealing. Theft.

      She parked and went into the post office, carrying Charlotte. The lady behind the counter was friendly and helped her to find the right number for an Olliver living in the city. It was almost too easy.
 

      If it wasn’t Betty, if this number didn’t get her in touch with her friend, there would be nothing left for her to do. No hope. Nothing. The man’s initials were wrong, but it was the only Olliver with two L’s.
 

      The phone rang five times.
Five slow, painful rings
. She was sure no one was going to answer. After driving all the way in, desperate to talk to Betty, no one was going to be there. She wouldn’t even know if it was the right number if no one answered.
 

      On the eighth ring, she’d lost hope. One more, she whispered to herself. Just one more ring…

      “Olliver residence.”

      A breathless voice rang out down the line.
 

      
It wasn’t Betty.

      Madeline started to sob. She couldn’t help it.
 

      “Hello? Who’s there?”

      “Madeline. It’s Madeline Walker here,” she managed.
 

      “Madeline! Oh, Madeline, I’ve heard all about you. What’s wrong?”

      It didn’t help her crying any to have this kind voice acknowledge her. Months, weeks of holding it in, and now she was like a blubbering child to a complete stranger over the phone.
 

      “My dear, I’m Ivy. I run the household here.”

      “Ivy, I need to talk to Betty. Please,” Madeline asked.
 

      “Are you sure you’re all right?”

      “I need Betty,” she whispered.
 

      She listened as Ivy hollered out to Betty.
 

      “She’s coming, my dear.”
 

      Ivy had a lovely, soft motherly toned. It only made Madeline want to cry more.
 

      Betty’s breathless voice came across the line. “Mads? Madeline, is that you? What’s wrong?”

      That made her cry all over again.
 

      “Madeline, talk to me.”
 

      “I need to come and stay. Please.” Her words were no more than a whisper again. “I need help, Betty.”

      “Of course. When? What’s happened?”

      “I just need to get away. Away from Roy. Away from them all.” She took a deep breath. “My father died, we’ve moved back in with his parents. Please Betty, I need your help. I’ve got a baby now. I need you.”

      “A baby? Oh Madeline, a baby!”

      She held Charlotte tight but she didn’t want to talk about her, not yet. Not here.
 

      “I need you to help me get out of here,” Madeline said. “Please.”

      “Can you get here?” Betty asked.
 

      Madeline shook her head, before remembering Betty couldn’t see her. “No.”

      “I’ll send a car. When can you be ready?”

      “Any day,” Madeline mumbled.
 

      “The day after tomorrow, then?” Betty asked.
 

      “It’ll need to be early in the morning, or late. I need to get out without them knowing.”

      “It’s going to be all right, Madeline. I promise. Everything will be fine once you’re here. I can do this for you. Just tell me your address and I won’t let you down.”

      The teller was waving to her. It was time to hang up.
 

      “I have to go, Betty,” she said. “I don’t know what I’d have done if I hadn’t got in touch with you.”

      Betty’s tone made her want to cry all over again.
 

      “I know what it’s like, Mads. Believe me. I’m here for you. I’ll have a car waiting early in the morning, day after next. Quick, give me the address.”

      “Okay.” Relief made her shoulders sink, like she could hardly hold them up. She gave her the details.
 

      “Oh Madeline?”

      She was listening.
 

      “I’ve found June. She might even be here before you arrive.”

      The phone line went dead, but it didn’t matter. She was going to be with her friends again. They would help her, look after her.
 

      
Help her to escape.
 

      She was going to take all the money from her account, just in case she needed it. Tomorrow night, she would pack her bag and hide it under the bed. She couldn’t take much, they didn’t have many large bags, but it was the least of her worries.
 

      If Betty could help her, could help her figure out what she needed to do, then she might never come back here.
 

      She hoped not.
 

      But then she had that little problem of not having enough money.
 

      Maybe Betty could come up with a plan to get around that.
 

      
She hoped so.
 

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

IT was hell. Pure hell. There was no other way to describe it.
 

      
But it was about to end.
 

      Charlotte was unhappy, her crying earlier had told her the baby wasn’t content, but now wasn’t the time for her to worry about a little unhappiness.
 

      Now was the time to plot her escape.
 

      She quickly put pen to paper.
 

Roy.

Please don’t be alarmed, but I had to get out of the house. My friend Betty has kindly agreed to take me to her home, for some rest and recovery.
 

I will be home within a few days.
 

Love always,

Madeline.
 

The few days apart and the loving marked her as a liar, but she wanted him to be at ease. Annoyed, sure. There was little way to get around that, because if she asked his permission he would outright refuse, but so long as he didn’t come chasing her, looking for her, she could deal with him.
 

      It could take months, if not longer, before she could secure passage back home. She just needed some breathing space, to try and figure out what she was going to do.
 

      Headlights flooded the front yard.
 

      The car was early.
 

      Madeline reached for her single bag, slung it over her shoulder, Charlotte in the other arm, and hurried as fast as she could.
 

      She dropped the letter on to the kitchen table and tripped her way out the door and across the porch.
 

      The driver opened the door for her and went to take her bag.
 

      “Quick! Just throw it in with me,” Madeline told him.

      She could see a light on back at the house now. Someone was up.
 

      The driver gave her a peculiar look but didn’t argue. He thrust the bag onto the seat beside her, shut the door and got behind the wheel.
 

      “I’m sorry, but we need to get out of here. Fast.”

      He nodded and turned the car around.
 

      Madeline looked back and saw a figure appear on the porch. A light hanging showed the silhouette to be a woman’s.
 

      A gurgle of relief escaped from her throat and she felt tears start to fall down her cheeks.
 

      She never, ever wanted to come back here.
 

      She closed her eyes, held her baby tight, and prayed.
 

      Please God, take me home. Take me back to my family.
 

      If only he could hear her.
 

CHAPTER THIRTY

ANY minute now.

      Betty couldn’t stop herself, she had to keep pacing. She had her eyes locked on the window.
 

      Any minute now and her friends would be arriving.
 

      She hadn’t spoken to June on the phone, only Madeline. But she’d received a message from her husband saying that he’d hardly been able to contain his wife’s excitement, and that she would be there before noon.
       

      It was half past eleven already. Madeline should be here by now with June right behind her.
 

      Nine months since she’d seen them. Nine months! How had that much time passed since they’d been together?

      She heard a noise. A definite noise.
 

      Then a car appeared at the end of the driveway, winding slowly up toward the house. It wasn’t the car she’d sent to fetch Madeline, so it could only be one person.
 

      June was here!

      “Ivy, Ivy! She’s here!”

      “Well what are you waiting for? Get out there.”

      Betty ran through the hall and to the front door. She swung it open, desperate to set eyes upon her again.
 

      “Betty!”

      She almost fainted on the spot. June ran toward her, disregarding the gravel and running as fast as her heels would allow.
 

      “Oh, Betty.”
 

      They threw their arms around one another. June felt warm, soft, happy.
 

      “Look at you, huh? You look wonderful.”

      June grinned and linked arms with her. It felt so good to be shoulder-to-shoulder with a friend from back home.
 

      “This place is beautiful. You never told me Charlie was so well off.”

      Betty just turned them both around to face the door and walked her friend inside.
She’d
never known Charlie was this well off, but then she’d have given up all the money to have him here instead.

      “Fancy a cuppa?”

      June gave her a gentle push away. “Don’t I wish? A real cuppa from back home.”

      “Ivy!”

      She appeared from the kitchen, tea towel in hand and a big smile on her face.
 

      “Ready for your cup of tay, girls?”

      Betty giggled and tugged June along.

      “How did you teach an American to speak like that?” June teased.
 

      “Ivy, meet my friend June.”