THE WAR BRIDE CLUB (42 page)

      “Then what?”

      June leaned in to her husband, mouth hovering over his ear.
 

      “We’re going to need two nurseries because I’m pregnant, Eddie,” she whispered.
 

      He still didn’t move.
 

      “Did you hear me?” she spoke louder this time.
 

      “Pregnant?”

      June pulled him around in a circle, laughing at the look on his face.
 

      “Pregnant,” June affirmed. “We’re going to have two babies, Eddie. Two babies!”

      He shook his head, in disbelief, but she saw the smirk of his mouth as he watched her.
 

      “What?”

      Eddie laughed. “I thought I was going to be the one surprising you tonight.”

      This time it was she who stopped moving.
 

      “Edward West, you tell me right this minute what you’re hiding from me.”

      “Your parents arrive tomorrow. It was supposed to be a secret but it turns out I’m not that good at keeping things from you.”

      “Tomorrow!” she squealed.
 

      He laughed and scooped her up into his arms.
 

      “Tomorrow. They’ll be waiting at the house by the time we arrive home.”

Alice let her head fall on Ralph’s shoulder as they walked. It had been a long night, but an enjoyable one. Being around Betty and June again had been good for her. They shared a bond that could never be broken, something that would keep pulling them together forever.
 

      “Are you happy, Alice?”

      She stopped and took her husband’s hands. There was nothing she could say in answer to his question other than
yes
. They’d had their share of hard times, they’d struggled through a time that she hadn’t thought would be possible to survive, and she’d acted in a way that was unforgivable.
But they’d survived it
.
They’d made it
. They had a future, and a happy one at that.
 

      “I don’t know how to tell you how happy I am, Ralph. But yes, the answer is yes.”

      He bent to kiss her.
 

      “Even after you’ve had my mother staying for another two weeks?”

      She kissed him back, lips not leaving his.
 

      “Mmm-hmm,” she murmured.
 

      “We’ll see. She might drive you back home across the ocean yet.”

      “Never,” said Alice, wrapping her arms tight around her man. “I’ll never, ever leave you Ralph. I promise.”

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

MADELINE surveyed the room. She did her best to inhale a quiet lungful of air but worried it came out more as a gasp.
 

      She wasn’t used to crowds. Especially not crowds gathered to see her.
 

      The room was alive. Voices mingled to an almost deafening level, assaulting her ears as she did her best to push them out. She wished for her own home. To be back with her family, tucked up in her chair by the fire, shawl about her arms, instead of preparing to speak. At least now home was only a train ride away – there was no longer an ocean to separate her from where she wanted to be.
 

      She felt a tap on her shoulder.
 

      “Mrs. Parker, it’s time.”

      Her pulse started racing again. Her face flooded with heat, burning a fiery flush down her neck.
 

      “Mrs. Parker?”

      She nodded, perhaps a little too vigorously. “Yes. Yes, of course.”

      “Come this way then.”

She cleared her throat and tried to avoid looking at anyone’s face in particular. Madeline focused on a spot on the back wall, trying to keep the nerves from rearing into her mind again.
 

      The flash of a camera made her blink, but she kept her focus. She had a speech to read, just like she’d rehearsed. If she lost her way she could just read her notes.
If her wet, sweaty palms didn’t let the paper slip away first.
 

      They were all waiting for her to speak.
 

      “My time as a foreign bride in America taught me many things.” Madeline took another gulp of air and tried to settle into a rhythm. “First of all, it made me realize that to live without your family, in a foreign country, is almost impossible. Or at least it is when your new family, the one you have sacrificed so much to be with, considers you a foreign alien.”

      Madeline tried to slow herself down. She needed to be calm, to portray what it had been like for her over there.
She needed to speak from her heart.
 

      The crowd was silent, even as she took a sip of water, but she didn’t make eye contact still. Not yet. She wasn’t confident enough to do that yet. A cough made her jump, but she forced herself to continue.
 

      “I left my country with a heart full of love, prepared to give everything up for my husband, but now I find myself asking what the sacrifice of a woman should be. Should a new wife accept being lied to? Should she accept a home with no indoor plumbing, a home with no love, a home where she is treated like a slave?”

      A murmur started amongst the women then, but she didn’t stop, only paused enough to catch her breath and let her eyes trace the words on the page. If she faltered now she wouldn’t be able to start over again.
 

      “Many of you may be wondering how bad it could be. How I could leave my husband behind? But my answer is to look at me and put yourself in my position. I married a man who told me he loved me, who promised me things that I had no reason to doubt. I ask you, would your child deserve to live in a home with no love, when a family who could provide that love were waiting here in London? Could you imagine what it’s like to be a stranger, a foreigner, and be alone?”

      Madeline knew that would get the crowd going, but then this was what they wanted. The newspaper publisher had wanted controversy, and she needed the money, so it was worth it. And besides, she wanted to tell her story. This was the truth, not some fabricated novel. It was the truth and she wanted to tell it.
 

      “I don’t regret my time in America. Despite the hardships I faced, I have a beautiful child whom I will treasure forever, and I made friends who will be in my heart until my dying days. It was an experience I will never forget, a time in my life that I will treasure but that will also haunt me, but it is something I’m pleased to say I lived through.”

      Her voice choked but she pushed through.
Had to
. She could cry later, but right now she needed to tell the last of her story. Every time she thought of how she’d left, what had made her finally give up, it made her angry. But losing her father was something she couldn’t ever recover from, and something she couldn’t ever forget.
 

      “The women I met on my way to America became my closest friends. Their stories are different, although not without their own hardships, but those women got me through the hard times and made me see a way to escape my unhappiness. To them, I will be eternally grateful.

      “If I had the opportunity to live the life I dreamed of, I wouldn’t have said no when my husband asked for my hand in marriage.Maybe if I had had the husband I deserved, then it would have been worth it. But all I know now, all I can think, is that walking away from your own family for a chance at love, is a chance that has too many risks to take.” She paused. “Thank you.”

      Madeline missed her friends so much. She would do anything to see Betty, June and Alice again, but she knew she’d never see them. Not unless one of them took a trip home. For now, she had to be content with writing letters and receiving them. And telling her story.
 

      “If you would like to know more about Mrs. Parker’s time in America, I encourage you to buy her memoir, which she will sign for you should you wish. We will also be publishing a series of articles starting Monday of next week in the Herald.”

      “Mrs. Parker!”

      “Madeline!”

      “Mrs. Parker will not be taking questions.”

      “But is it true? What they say about our English girls and their unrealistic dreams?”

      Madeline stopped. Her heart started to race.
 

      She didn’t have to answer. She didn’t have to.
 

      
But she wanted to
.
 

      Madeline turned around and walked back to the makeshift stage, ready to speak to the crowd again.
 

      “I am well aware that there have been many reports in newspapers here and in America, about disillusioned war brides.” She let out a nervous chuckle. “My own mother cut out many such pieces and I’ve looked over every one since my return.”

      The room was quiet except for the odd laugh.
 

      “I’m sure there were many disillusioned brides, or maybe there weren’t, but all I can say for sure is that I wasn’t one of them. When my husband told me he lived on a farm and had a family who would love me, I believed him. I didn’t dream of money and a lavish lifestyle, all I wanted was a home and love. This wasn’t about a romantic notion or rebelling against working hard alongside my man, this was about my being a woman and expecting a real husband, a real family, and a real chance at a happy life.”

      Madeline stepped aside as her publisher took center stage. Her eyes did rove then, over the many faces, and she saw a mixed result. Sadness in some, understanding in others, and disgust in the remainder, or perhaps they just couldn’t understand what she’d gone through.
 

      But right now, all she cared about was the opinion of her family. Of her child. Of the friends who’d helped her escape.
 

      “Mrs. Parker will take a moment to refresh herself, then she will see you all in the lobby for any signings.”

      She let herself be led.
 

      For the first time since she’d left, she truly wished she were back in America.
 

      Just for an afternoon. So she could sit in the sun at Betty’s place again, all four of them, and talk. Laugh. Cry.
 

      Because she’d never forget their little war bride club. And she bet they’d never forget her either.

      Madeline looked back at the crowd, unsure of how she felt about sharing her story. It meant a degree of financial security for their little family of two, so it was worth it, but… There was always a
but
when it came to divulging one’s personal life.
 

      Her eyes stopped on a face that seemed familiar. She looked away.
 

      
It couldn’t be
. Not here. Not when he’d never even bothered to try to contact her since she’d left.
 

      Madeline looked back. She couldn’t help herself – it was like a pull against gravity that she couldn’t defy.
 

      The face was familiar. Was it him, or was it her imagination? She’d seen him before, or thought she had, but here? It was different. In a room full of women, there was a man. Not a reporter she recognized as having asked her a question, but a man that looked…
like her husband
.

      He had a neat beard, cut short against his skin. His hair was brushed back neatly, shirt tucked in. But
his eyes.
The eyes were holding her there, not letting her turn away.
 

      Madeline tried to swallow, but it was like her throat was blocked. Her mind was blank, only one word repeating over and over.
 

      
Roy.

      Madeline didn’t know what to feel. If it was him, did it mean he was here to try to claim Charlotte? Or had he come back for her?
 

      Or maybe, maybe she was hallucinating. Maybe tonight had been too much of a walk down memory lane. She was tired. She just needed to get home.
 

      And then he raised his hand. Only just. A half-wave.
 

      
It was him.
 

      Madeline couldn’t see the rest of the crowd any longer. The drone of her publisher speaking blended into the background noise. All she could see was Roy.
Her husband
.
 

      She forced her eyes away, fighting the pull to look back at him, and glanced at her wristwatch.
 

      There was another fifteen minutes until she was needed in the lobby.
 

      Madeline put her head down and walked toward the door. Away from Roy. If it was even him.
 

      If he’d come to see her, he would follow.
 

      She kept walking, heels clicking on the floor and then cushioned as the tiles were replaced by carpet. She didn’t stop until she found a seat near the window, looking out over the entrance to the hotel.