Amy (26 page)

She threw her arms around him. ‘It’s all right,’ she said. ‘They’ve taken it all back. I’m a doctor again.’

She wrote to Dan, and to Major Barnes and Sir Henry. She thought it best not to contact the sister, even if she had known where to find her. Dan sent a telegram to say that he would be with her at the weekend when he was off duty.

‘I think we must get a telephone put in,’ her father said with a smile, ‘now that you are home again and people want to see you.’

She waited for Dan with impatience. She wanted to celebrate with him. He was the only person now who had been with her through it all. He was the only one who had worked beside her, the only one with whom she could face the past in healing silence, who understood. She didn’t know if he still felt the same way about her. Too much had happened. Perhaps he was content to be just a good friend. But she missed him when he wasn’t there; she trusted and admired him, she felt safe and content with him.

I love him, she thought, almost surprised. I want him. But there was one more obstacle. She would have to tell him about Johnny. She walked about the garden and about the town, worried and undecided. Things had changed in the war; attitudes to morality had been stretched, but they were still there, and there was, as in most things,
one law for men and another for women. She had slept with Johnny. She didn’t have to tell Dan, and he need never know, but she knew that she couldn’t do that. She couldn’t start a marriage with secrets. She might never marry; she would have her career. But she knew now that she wanted Dan. She shrank away from telling him, but if he wanted her, she would have to do it.

He arrived on Saturday afternoon. She had no doubt now that he felt the same, his face glowing with pleasure and yes – with love. Her father took one look at him and disappeared into his study with his pipe.

She took him into the sitting-room.

‘I’m so glad, Amy,’ he said. ‘It’s wonderful news. Not that I ever doubted it.’

She looked at him, unable to conceal her feeling for him. He took her in his arms, his cheek against her hair. ‘You know I’m in love with you, Amy, don’t you? I’ve loved you since I first saw you. That’s a terrible old cliché, but it’s true.’ He drew back and looked down at her. ‘Could you love me, Amy?’

‘I do love you,’ she said. He went to take her in his arms again but she held him back. ‘I’ve got something to tell you.’

She met his eyes. ‘It’s Johnny,’ she said. He opened his mouth to speak but she stopped him. ‘I slept with him,’ she said. ‘Once. I loved him and I slept with him.’

He was silent for a moment. It’s over, she thought. He won’t want me now.

‘I assumed that you had,’ he said. ‘I’m not blind, Amy. Is that what you wanted to tell me?’

She nodded. He took her face in his hands. ‘It doesn’t matter. It’s like the war, it’s past and gone. Marry me, Amy.’

‘Yes!’ she almost shouted, and threw her arms around him. ‘Yes, yes, yes!’

He swung her round, laughing. ‘Tomorrow?’

‘Yes. As long as you are happy for me to work.’

He smiled. ‘I’d be cross with you if you didn’t. It would be such a waste.’

They sat down on the sofa together. ‘I should tell you,’ he said, ‘that I would like to have children. It would mean a lot to me.’

‘Of course,’ she said. ‘I want them too. We’ve lost so much. There is
so much to put back.’

She looked around the tranquil room, with all its memories of her childhood. ‘At least we know,’ she said, ‘that our children will never have to go through that hell. That madness will never happen again, will it?’

He took her in his arms and held her close, saying nothing.