She knew the bed-time stories so well that she could read them automatically while she thought of other things. Up until three weeks ago, she had thought about the shopping and the mending and Peter’s clothes. But now … Now she thought about the evening ahead.
She was fascinated by Richard’s view of the world.
Certain things – like politics – he found amusing; something the French would never do. He said that anything so serious which was so badly managed had to be funny. She wasn’t sure she agreed with him, but the way he talked made her laugh – most things he said made her laugh. But then at other times he could be very serious, and those laughing eyes became as hard as stone, and she guessed he could be very determined when he chose to be. Particularly about things he cared about, like loyalty and integrity and duty. When he talked about things like that he reminded her of an earnest schoolboy – or perhaps a knight of old: chivalrous, honest and true.
And yet – whenever he was talking seriously he would add almost in the same breath something so irreverent that it made her gasp. At first his wickeder remarks had taken her aback and – well, shocked her. Then she’d started to find them rather funny and it dawned on her that he said them for that very reason: to make her laugh.
He made her talk too, about herself and what she believed in and what she cared about. She wasn’t used to having long discussions. The conversations in the farmhouse kitchen were inclined to be short, almost monosyllabic. At first she found it difficult to express herself, but then, gradually, the words had come more easily.
‘
Maman
, a kiss!’
She leant down and kissed the small round cheek. ‘Good night, darling. I’ll try not to wake you when I come to bed.’
‘Night-night.’ He was already half asleep.
Julie hurried to the mirror and peered into it. She brushed her hair a couple of times then examined herself critically. She really didn’t look bad at all, she decided. She was doing her hair a new way – with a side parting – and it rather suited her.
She made her way to the stairs and went up, happy and confident.
He was sitting on the bed, finishing his meal. When he saw her he put the plate down and said, ‘I’m putting on weight, you know. You’ll have to stop feeding me like this!’
She sat down on the floor and smiled. ‘Well, it’s not exactly Cordon Bleu – and I wouldn’t enquire about the vegetables you had in that stew. But we do our best!’
‘It’s wonderful!’ And Julie had the feeling he wasn’t referring to the food. She said quickly, ‘Do you want to play crib tonight? It’s about time you played an honest game and beat me!’
‘Are you suggesting I cheat?’ he asked.
‘Yes!’ Julie laughed.
He looked horrified. ‘How did you guess?’
‘Because I win so much.’
‘Ah! I can’t argue with that logic! I promise never to cheat again. Guide’s honour.’ Julie smiled because he didn’t mean a word of it.
He looked at her more seriously and exclaimed, ‘No,
don’t
let’s play cribbage. Let’s talk instead! Come on …’ He settled himself more comfortably. ‘I want to hear the story of your life.’
She felt a stab of fear. She said quickly, ‘No. There’s nothing to tell.’ There was an awkward pause. She looked for something else to say. ‘I heard about your crew, by the way. Did I tell you? They’re fine, apparently, but still very restless. D’you want another message sent over to them?’
Ashley shook his head absently. ‘No. It’ll wait a couple of days.’
He was watching her carefully. She went on quickly, ‘But still no news from outside, I’m afraid. There’s been a big clamp-down round Paris and the wireless operators have gone to ground. We still haven’t managed to get a message through …’
He frowned. ‘This Paris thing – is it connected with what happened here?’
‘No … they don’t think so. Our – incident – happened before the troubles up there. No, our problem was that leader of ours. We think he just talked too much and the wrong people heard …’
‘But – will he have talked? To the Gestapo?’
Julie stared at him for a moment. ‘No … Thank goodness, there’s no possibility of that.’
‘Why?’
‘Ah. Well, he died, you see. On the way to St Brieuc, to Gestapo headquarters.’
‘Oh … He—’ Richard searched her face. ‘He died immediately, did he?’
Julie thought: He’s quick, he understands completely. She said quietly, ‘Yes … The Germans found him dead on arrival. But then he would have died anyway—’
Richard nodded. ‘Quite.’
Julie had been relieved to hear of the leader’s death. It was amazing how hard and realistic you could be when it was your child and your family who were at stake.
Julie shook her head. ‘But none of it need have happened. If we’d had our own people running it
their
way …’
Richard nodded sympathetically. ‘Well, for what it’s worth I’ll put in a word with the powers-that-be when I get back.’ He laughed. ‘
If
I get back!’
Julie said gently, ‘I’m sorry there’s no news.’
He leaned forward and touched her arm. ‘Don’t worry on my behalf. Actually, to be honest, I’m rather enjoying it in some ways. I’ve done a lot of thinking – much more than in the whole of the last few years. And I’m getting a lot of satisfaction out of making this model with your young man. Then, of course …’ He paused and stared at her meaningfully. ‘… it’s really rather nice to be locked up with you.’
Julie gave him a look of amused disbelief and said, ‘You’re just saying that!’ But secretly she was pleased.
There was a pause. He said quietly, ‘You very cleverly put me off just now, when I asked you about your life. But come on, Julie, don’t be such a mystery woman. Tell me …’
Julie said softly, ‘No, I’m really not ready to talk about it yet. I’m sorry.’
He gave her a questioning look. She was tempted to explain but instead she got up and fetched the upturned packing case they used for playing cards.
He gave a small laugh. ‘All right. Cribbage then.’
He won the first game easily and Julie said, ‘There, you see! When you concentrate you can beat me every time!’
He let her win the next game and the next, then she accused him of not trying.
He replied half-heartedly, ‘Of course I’m trying.’ But she knew he wasn’t.
Julie looked at her watch and got to her feet. ‘Well, work tomorrow as usual. About time I turned in.’ She smoothed down her skirt and looked up with a smile. ‘Good night, then!’
She turned to go but he stood up and touched her arm. ‘Julie …’ His voice was very soft. ‘I wish you’d tell me …’ He sighed. ‘You know what I mean.’ He held her by the arms and, moving closer, kissed her on the forehead, very gently, his lips barely brushing her skin. Then, for a single moment, he leant down and put his cheek against hers and Julie thought: I’m not going to survive this. He turned and whispered into her hair, ‘Julie, I want you so much …’
Julie pulled away and looked unhappily at the floor. Then without a word she turned and made quickly for the stairs.
‘Julie—?’
But she was hurrying down. As soon as she reached the bedroom she pulled off her skirt and top and quickly got into bed next to Peter. She closed her eyes tightly and thought: God, please help me to live through the next few minutes. She listened to the sounds upstairs. For several minutes he didn’t move, then she heard him walk slowly across the room to the bed.
She stared into the darkness for a long time, full of longings, wretched with misery.
She wanted him too, of course she did. She wanted him with all her heart.
But there could be no question of that. He wouldn’t care for her if he knew the truth. He wouldn’t respect her. The humiliation would be terrible.
She closed her eyes tightly, thinking that sometimes life could be very unfair.
Richard eyed her critically. ‘You look terrible!’
‘Thanks!’ Julie managed the ghost of a smile. She was feeling an awful lot better than she had first thing that morning. She’d woken with a thundering headache and it hadn’t faded until the afternoon. Now, she was just feeling tired.
She put the plate down on the packing case and looked at him a little nervously. She hadn’t seen him since the night before. She breathed deeply and said, ‘If you don’t mind, I think I’ll go straight to bed tonight. I’m rather tired.’
He got up slowly, a frown on his face, and took her hand. ‘Julie, if it’s anything I said last night … If I offended you in any way … I’m terribly sorry …’
‘No! Really.’ She smiled and gripped his hand. ‘No, I’m just tired, that’s all.’
‘Well … if you’re sure.’ He looked uncertain. ‘You promise that I didn’t upset you …?’
Julie said, ‘Honestly,’ and wished he would let go of her hand. It was embarrassing her.
He said softly, ‘If I did upset you, Julie, I assure you it was the last thing I intended … You know that, don’t you?’
She nodded. ‘I know that.’
Very gently he released her hand and said breezily, ‘Well how about a nightcap?’
‘A nightcap?’ she repeated dully.
‘Yes, I did a little bit of bartering with your uncle. He ended up with three cigarettes and I got a bottle of wine. Rather a good deal, don’t you think? Though who for, I couldn’t say!’ He laughed and leant down to pick up the bottle. ‘Look, why don’t you have a quick glass. It’ll do you good! And make you sleep! Come on, keep me company! Just for a minute.’
Julie knew that if she didn’t go to bed now she might stay all evening. She began, ‘I really would, except …’ Then she closed her eyes, and smiled faintly and said, ‘All right.’
He grinned at her: he was pleased.
She sat on the floor and accepted a glass. He was right about the wine: it did make her feel better. After a while she felt beautifully calm and almost content again. Richard told some stupid stories about a pet goat his family had once owned and suddenly she found herself laughing again. It was as if nothing had changed …
Except that it had.
They talked about all the usual things and he looked at her with the same eyes, alive and sparkling with fun, but … it was all subtly different. The words from the previous night hung in the air.
She began to feel deliciously drowsy; she hardly ever drank wine. She said, ‘I really must get some sleep now …’
‘Of course.’ He leaned forward and helped her up. ‘But wait! Just for a second …’
He went to the candle and blew it out. She heard him move across the room and the next moment a square of light appeared where he had pulled the curtain back from the window. ‘Come and see!’
She came up beside him and stared out. It was a brilliantly clear night. A myriad stars carpeted the sky, like silver on black velvet.
He said, ‘I used to sit on
Dancer
and watch the night sky for hours on end …’
She said, ‘It
is
lovely.’
‘It’s even better when you’re sitting on deck. Then you can see everything, all the constellations.’
They stared in silence.
He said pensively, ‘After the war I’ll take
Dancer
cruising again, to all the old places.’
‘To the Scillies?’
He turned. ‘How did you know that?’
‘Well – you must have told me.’
‘Not since I’ve been here. I wouldn’t have.’ He was very definite. ‘You know, you must have remembered that from
before
. In Plymouth.’ He laughed softly. ‘And there you were, pretending you didn’t even remember
me
! You quite hurt my feelings, you know!’
‘Rubbish!’ Julie said firmly. ‘It did you good, not to be remembered. Otherwise you’d have got a big head.’
‘But you
did
remember me, didn’t you?’
Eventually she said, ‘Yes, but I couldn’t remember exactly where it was that I’d met you.’
‘Well, I knew! I enjoyed that day we spent together, and I was rather disappointed when you announced – right at the last moment – that you were just about to go away!’
He touched her shoulder and, sitting on the bed, waited for her to sit down beside him in the darkness. He said, ‘Tell me. About you.’
She murmured, ‘I’d rather not.’
‘But why? Do you think I won’t try to understand? Whatever it is you don’t want to talk about – well, it can’t be that bad, Julie. It can’t be so bad that I wouldn’t—’ There was a pause. ‘– that I wouldn’t care for you any more. You know I care, don’t you?’
Julie couldn’t speak.
He moved closer and took her hand. ‘Tell me at least … What happened to your husband?’
Julie stared into the darkness and thought: Whatever I say will be wrong. The past was like a terrible monster that kept rearing up in front of her, breathing shame and guilt and eternal damnation. However much he believed he would understand, he wouldn’t. He would pity and despise her.
She sighed and looked up at the window. The sky seemed even darker now, the glittering stars like lights on a tree. Taking a deep breath, she said slowly, ‘Peter never knew his father. And I – I haven’t seen him since Peter was born.’
Richard gently squeezed her hand. ‘More fool him. He must be mad. So then … he’s not likely to show up again.’
‘Hardly!’ She couldn’t keep the bitterness out of her voice. ‘You see …’ She bit her lip. ‘We …’ She spoke so softly that he leant closer to hear her. ‘We were never married.’
For a moment he didn’t speak and Julie thought that she had been right and that he wouldn’t understand.
But then he put his arm round her shoulder and said, ‘Bad luck!’
‘For me, yes!’
He said quickly, ‘But you mustn’t think it matters any more.’ He was stroking her hair, slowly, softly. ‘You have a lovely boy. You have nothing to be ashamed of.’
‘… Oh yes I do!’ She pulled herself away from him and blew noisily into her hanky. ‘I feel ashamed that it ever happened … Except for Peter, that is. If only …’ She sighed angrily.
‘But Julie, lots of people have affairs, and … well, indiscretions, without being married. Society’s incredibly hypocritical about all that kind of thing. They say it’s forbidden – but they’re doing it all the time. The secret is not to worry about it … about the past, I mean. It’s not that important.’
‘It’s important to
me
. I mind! And Peter will mind when he grows up and finds out. No … I made a terrible mistake and, one way and another, I’m going to pay for it for the rest of my life!’