The Hills and the Valley (68 page)

From the depths of the chair Alec tried to move and Joan found her voice.

‘Hello, Alec. Don't bother to get up. Stay where you are.'

‘Hello, Joan.'

‘Well, you're a fine one I must say,' she began. Then suddenly the words dried up, her inhibitions fell away and she ran across the room to where he was sitting. ‘Oh Alec, thank God you're all right.'

‘I'm not all right,' he said tetchily. ‘I'm a bloody mess. And I've only got one leg.'

‘But you're home.' She sank down onto her knees on the floor beside him. ‘You don't know how I've prayed for this!'

He looked at her, mildly surprised.
‘You
have?'

‘Well, of course I have! Oh Alec …'

He moved irritably. ‘Huh! So now I know who to thank for all those bloody months when I wished I was dead and out of it.'

Her head jerked up, her eyes full of horror.

It was a terrible thing to have said and he knew it. He'd been saying a lot of terrible things since he'd come home, almost as if he wanted to shock the family and friends who had lived here in comparative peace while he had been suffering untold torments at the hands of the Japs. They said they understood – but how could they? They talked blithely of their own sufferings and deprivations and it all sounded so petty that he could not resist jabbing at them time and again. Over the past week it had almost become a habit.

Now he looked at Joan, knew he had hurt her, and was sorry. She had come out of the goodness of her heart, because she cared for him in spite of what he had done to her, and he had taken the ground from under her feet.

‘I'm sorry,' he said. ‘Don't take any notice of me. This is what it damn well does to you, four years in a bloody Jap prison camp.'

She swallowed, trying to regain her composure.

‘It's all right. I understand.'

‘No, you don't,' he said. ‘But don't let it worry you.'

‘Alec …' Sarah was hovering anxiously, treading a fine line between upsetting her son and allowing him to upset Joan.

Joan looked up at her. ‘It's all right, Mrs Hall,' was all she said, but her eyes spoke volumes.

‘I'll go and put the kettle on,' Sarah said. Why was it that always at moments of crisis one turned to making a pot of tea?

‘Well, Joan,' Alec said when she had gone. ‘How's the world been treating you then?'

‘Oh, all right. I've been nursing.'

‘Not married then?'

She couldn't look at him. ‘No.'

‘Why not?'

‘What sort of a question is that?'

‘Quite a sensible one I should think. Most girls your age are married.'

‘I was going to be married once, Alec, or have you forgotten?' Joan asked quietly. ‘Perhaps that was enough for me.'

He nodded. His reactions were strange – slow and detached.

‘What happened to the house?'

‘We sold it. Your mother and father had your share to keep for you. Didn't they write to you about it?'

‘Oh yes, I think they did.' It seemed so long ago now. ‘Does Bryda still live down there?'

He saw the pain in her eyes again. She knew; oh yes, she knew.

‘No, she's gone. Left her husband and ran off with a Pole.' She said it nonchalantly but it jolted him to the quick. Bryda had refused him because she had said she had to stay with her husband and then she had run off with a foreigner! Well, of all the …! But it no longer mattered. Nothing much mattered any more.

‘What are you going to do now you're home?' Joan asked.

He shrugged. ‘What can I do? I'm a bloody crock. Now this show is over and all the men are coming home there won't be enough jobs to go round for those that are fit. I won't stand a chance.'

‘Don't say that.'

‘It's true. Who'd want me?'

She knelt up, taking his hands in hers. In spite of the warm room and the thick clothing he was wearing they felt like ice.

‘I want you, Alec.' She was trembling. Dear God, she was laying it on the line, asking to be rejected for a second time.

‘You can't.'

‘But I do. I've always wanted you, only I was afraid to say so. I still do.'

‘But I'm a crock!'

‘Not to me. Let me help you, Alec. I can help you, I know it. I've been a nurse – well, not exactly, but I've got to know how to do all the messy jobs anyway, so looking after you would be dead easy and …'

‘Thanks very much! I'm a messy job am I?'

‘No! You know what I mean. Oh Alec …' She was scared suddenly, overcome by embarrassment at her own boldness. ‘I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say any of this. I just came to see you. Perhaps I'd better go …' She went to get up. He reached out and took her hand, half expecting her to recoil from the almost claw-like yellowed fingers. She did not.

‘I'm glad you came,' he said. ‘Will you come again?'

Her eyes went moist. She bent down and touched the yellowed fingers with her lips.

‘Oh Alec, of course I will – if you want me to.'

‘I do,' he said.

It was a beginning.

Early in October Huw came home on leave – a few days only – and Barbara went over to Valley View to see him. Since Sir Richard and Lady Erica were away she had no excuses to make and she toyed with the idea of asking Huw to come to Hillsbridge House instead. It would be lovely to be able to entertain him in her own room and she liked the idea that his presence would be there even when he had gone. But the servants were still in residence and it would be all too easy to cause talk.

October had come in wet and windy and although the trees were still mainly green, the first leaves had turned colour and begun fluttering down ill sad wet drifts. Beneath the lowering sky Hillsbridge looked grey and grimy and not even the bright berries in the hedgerows could do anything to dispel the depressing feel of winter just around the corner.

It was too damp now and too cold to walk through the fields as they had done in summer, so when Hope had been settled in the kitchen with Mrs Milsom, who had promised to allow her to help with the baking, Barbara and Huw went into the drawing-room. The moment the door closed behind them they were in one another's arms.

‘Oh Huw, you don't know how I've been waiting for this!'

‘Come here. Don't talk.' His mouth was on hers, his arms squeezing her tightly, lifting her almost on tiptoe. They kissed with the fervour of reunion and almost at once the desire began to creep in, setting fire to her nerve endings, making her weak. His hands moved the length of her back, caressing, exploring; tucked in beneath the curve of her bottom to hold her close to him; then as one they moved to the couch. He sat down, pulling her down on top of him until they could bear it no longer and he pushed her gently back onto the hearth rug. Because she had known they would be using the room Mrs Milsom had lit a fire; it crackled comfortably, bathing them in flickering light.

‘She won't come in, will she?' Huw whispered and even his breath against her ear was erotic.

‘No. She has more sense.' Then, as an afterthought, she said, ‘Perhaps we ought to lock the door just in case.'

He got up and she lay languorously in the firelight while he crossed the room and turned the key in the lock. She watched him come back, loving every movement of his tall dark figure, stretching up her arms to him as he lowered himself beside her once more.

‘Oh Huw …'

‘I love you, Barbara.'

‘And I love you.'

They were close again, closer than before, limbs entwining, bodies merging to one. Too soon it was over – it had been so long, so long! – and she pressed close against him still moving her body to the delicious contact, unwilling to give up the delight.

After a few minutes he moved to look down at her.

‘We can't go on like this.'

She opened her eyes. ‘What do you mean?'

‘I love you, Barbara. I want you with me all the time. It's not enough, snatching a few hours like this. The war is over now. I shall be getting a permanent posting somewhere. It may be in England, it may not. There's no need for us to be separated any more. Wherever I'm sent, I want you with me.'

‘But Huw, it's not just the war that's been keeping us apart. Marcus …'

‘Damn Marcus.'

‘I have to stay with him. If I left him he might flip completely. Heaven knows what he would do. And there's Hope to think of. We've been over all this before.'

‘I know we have. But it's no answer. Don't you want to be with me?'

‘Of course I do! You know I do! But …'

‘Then leave him. If he'll divorce you we'll be married. If he won't… well, we'll just have to cross that bridge when we get to it.'

Panic was setting in, taking the place of passion.

‘Huw, I can't! Maybe in a few years …'

‘In a few years we shall be old. We may even be dead. If this war has taught me one thing it's about my own mortality. I've seen too many friends die – come too close to dying myself. We have to take what we have
now
while we're young and strong. Tomorrow may be too late.'

She was silent. He was right, of course. She felt the wasteland of her own life as a bleak emptiness deep within her. Only with Huw was she truly alive. Only with Huw could she ever be happy. But to abandon Marcus would be to take her happiness at his expense. She was not sure she could live like that. And it could mean losing Hope …

‘Well?' he said. There was a new, hard note in his voice.

‘I don't know. You're rushing me.'

‘If I don't rush you it will drag on this way for ever.' He leaned over, pinioning her arms. ‘I'm not letting you go until you promise.'

‘I can't promise.'

‘Then I shall just keep you here.'

‘Don't be silly, Huw,' she said sharply. ‘You're behaving like a child.'

‘You're the one behaving like a child. Refusing to face up to life.'

‘I am not! I've explained and explained. I can't make myself clearer. And will you please let go of my arm. You're hurting me.'

He released her and got up with an abrupt movement. She felt the ache of loss and with it a stab of fear. They had never quarrelled before. She hated it. But she couldn't let him push her into something she would regret.

‘There's no point talking to you in this mood,' she said.

‘There's no point talking to you at all. You're so bloody stubborn. Just like your mother.'

‘Leave my mother out of this. After all she's done for you, too.'

They were all but shouting at one another now. A rattle at the door knob made them both start.

‘Mummy – Mummy, are you in there?'

Barbara got up, straightening her clothing.

‘It's Hope. Hush up, now. You'll frighten her.'

He caught her wrist. ‘Barbara …'

‘Let go! I must open the door and see what she wants.'

‘All right. But think about this. I'm not prepared to go on like this for ever, Barbara. If I can't have you properly, show the world you're mine, I'd rather not have you at all.'

‘Huw …'

‘I mean it. I'm serious. You'd better think about it – and think soon.' He let go of her wrist. ‘Now open the door if you want to.'

She stared at him for a moment, feeling tears gather in her throat. It was so unlike Huw, shouting at her, giving her ultimatums. It was horrible. The door knob rattled again.

‘Mum-mee!'

‘All right, Hope, I'm coming,' she called.

She opened the door. The child came in, wearing a little pinafore over her dress and with flour streaks on her nose.

‘What were you doing, Mummy? Why were you shouting?' She broke off, sensing the atmosphere, looking from Barbara to Huw and back again. Barbara composed herself.

‘I wasn't shouting, darling. Now, what's the matter? Why do you want me?'

Hope ran to her, wrapping her arms around Barbara's legs.

‘Just want you!' she piped. ‘Just want you, that's all.'

The tears thickened Barbara's throat again as she looked down at the golden head, felt the small sticky hands clutching her legs. She couldn't do anything to jeopardise Hope's happiness. She simply could not. But Huw's face was as set as before. He had no intention of giving in, she knew. Once Huw had made up his mind to something no power on earth would make him change it. And his mind was made up. He was going to force her to choose. Barbara faced the knowledge and went cold at the thought.

One way or the other, it was up to her. She held the happiness of four people in her hands. And she did not know what to do.

They played with Hope a little, they had lunch – delicious homemade oxtail soup and freshly baked bread – and because the weather had cleared a little they went for a walk, taking Hope with them in her pushchair. But the lovely magical atmosphere had been spoiled and in desperation Barbara wondered if it could ever be the same again.

By the end of the afternoon it was raining again.

‘I'd better take you and Hope home,' Huw said. ‘I'm sure Amy won't mind me using her car.'

They folded up the pushchair and put it in the boot.

‘I must get my car back on the road again,' Huw said. ‘If I'm going to be stationed in this country, anyway. If not I suppose it will be laid up indefinitely.'

Like me, Barbara almost said, but did not. There was no point in making things worse than they already were.

Hope sat on her lap in the front seat, laughing at the swish of the windscreen wipers and pointing out things they passed.

‘Look – man!' as she saw a man on a bicycle, riding head down into the rain. ‘Dog-ee! Dog-ee!'

‘Yes, dog-ee,' Barbara said patiently and felt that her voice was coming from somewhere near her boots.