Gracie's Sin (36 page)

‘You’ve had no definite news then?’

Lou shook her head. ‘Not a word. They say that the powers that be, the admiralty or whoever, probably know something but they’re not saying. Not till they’re sure. Gordon’s mam says, no news is good news. “I’m not moving off this bloody pier till I see my son” she said. And she expected me to do the same. Oh, but I couldn’t, Gracie. I’d’ve gone mad. I have to do something. I have to work. Not because I want to, but because it’s the only way I can deal with this - this terrible waiting.’

Gracie did her best to soothe her, to assure Lou that Gordon’s mother would come to understand how she felt, once she was in a fit state to think at all. ‘We all have to deal with these things in our own way.’

‘What will I do if he doesn’t ever come back? How will I live?’

‘Don’t even think of such a thing,’ Gracie said, wiping the tears from her cheeks, smoothing back damp tendrils of chestnut hair. ‘He’ll come back. You must believe it, Lou. Gordon will expect you to have faith, to keep up your courage. You must be strong.’

Lou thought about this for a long time, then pulling out her handkerchief, blew her nose, determinedly wiping away the sniffles. ‘You’re right. I must be strong. For Gordon.’

‘Yes, for Gordon.’

‘We’ll face the future when it comes, eh?’ And looking bleakly into the glittering brilliance of Lou’s eyes, Gracie nodded, fighting back her own tears.

 
‘Right then. Let’s see if we can bring the next tree down in the proper place, shall we?’

Rose waited in breathless anticipation for Josh to respond. She jumped every time she heard the postman’s cheery voice in the saloon bar of the Eagles’ Head, then she would hurtle downstairs. ‘Any post for me?’

‘No love. Sorry.’

Nor did Adam call. She even went along to the parish hall one evening after work, to help Irma sort through the salvage in the hope she might see him there, but only succeeded in getting roped into packing clothes which were to be redistributed to some evacuees in Ambleside.

By the end of the evening, just when she was in despair, Adam arrived in his van, presumably to drive his mother home. She gave him her most dazzling smile, leaned through the open window to remind him of the pleasant supper they’d enjoyed together and then, catching Irma’s fierce glare, strolled away before the woman could accuse her of being too forward. Rose consoled herself with the thought that it would be a mistake for him to think her cheap, or easy to win over. Nonetheless she was disappointed when, two weeks later, he still hadn’t asked her out.

Then one morning, to her great distress and surprise, she had a bit of a show. Nothing much, not what you could call a proper period but it alarmed her and, desperate not to lose the baby, she cried off sick and stayed in bed all day. Depression sank over her, like a huge black cloud.

Adam had not forgotten about Rose but he was feeling thoroughly confused. Gracie had come to him one evening as he’d been shutting up the hens and told him, hesitantly and with profuse apologies, that she really couldn’t marry him; that she wasn’t even sure that she loved him. A part of him wanted to say that he understood and it really didn’t matter. But he realised, in a flash, that it did matter. It mattered a great deal. He saw that if he didn’t find a suitable wife, he would be chained to his mother for life; tied to her apron strings like some idiot schoolboy. These traitorous thoughts were creeping more and more often into his head, filling him with guilt. Yet even as they talked he could see his mother peering through the lace curtains, secretly watching them through the window. He couldn’t go on like this. He really couldn’t. Fond as he was of his mam, he had to find a way to break free. But he knew she’d be dead against Rose. She’d make his life hell on earth if he chose anyone other than Gracie.

‘Perhaps you need more time,’ he told her.

‘No, it isn’t that.’

‘Of course it is. Don’t decide anything yet. I’ve said there’s no hurry. What with the war to worry about, and Gordon missing, now isn’t the time for decisions.’ And he’d hurried away to tend to the cows, anxious to avoid any further explanations or excuses from Gracie, not least the prying eyes of his mother.

The next day, at her wit’s end to know what to do for the best, Gracie spoke to Rose about her problem. ‘He’s a very sweet, quiet man and I really don’t want to hurt him. I never meant to give him the idea that - well, that there was anything at all between us. It’s been difficult right from the start.’ Gracie explained about Irma persuading Adam to take her to the dance and then contriving to leave them alone together.

Rose snorted with derision. ‘That woman rules his life with a rod of iron.’

‘Oh, she means well. Thinks she’s doing the best she can by her son but...’

‘It’s none of her business who he goes out with, or wants to marry. You should’ve seen her face when she caught me having supper with him that time.’

‘When was that?’ Gracie was surprised, but listened with interest to the tale and soon both girls were giggling. ‘Maybe it’s really you that he fancies, and he only asked me to marry him to please his mother.’

‘Surely not. No man would be that daft. Unless he’s just confused and doesn’t know what he wants. After all, that supper was just a one-off, a chance meeting in a way, because I was really looking for you. Adam and I haven’t had much time to get to know each other.’ Rose looked at her, wide eyed with innocence. ‘I wouldn’t go after him, you know that Gracie. Not if you wanted him.’

‘Oh, but I don’t want him. I mean, if you like him - you go ahead. Do you like him? You do, don’t you?’

Rose’s pretty mouth curved into a provocative smile. ‘I wouldn’t mind having a shot at it. I rather took a fancy to him the first moment I set eyes on him, stripped off and having a wash in that back kitchen. Very nice, I thought.’

Gracie’s eyes were merry with laughter now. ‘Oh Rose, what a muddle. You fancy Adam, Adam fancies me, and I ...’

‘Who? Who do you fancy?’ Rose was instantly alert with curiosity. It seemed at times that everybody had someone to love them, everybody that is, except her. Lou not only had Gordon but also the adoring Luc. And everybody was fond of Gracie because of her long pale hair, pretty face and gentle manner. It really wasn’t fair.

‘Nobody!’ Gracie was shaking her head, laughing as if the very notion were ludicrous, though not too convincingly, Rose noticed. She’d keep an eye on Gracie. Didn’t they always say that still waters ran deep. ‘I simply meant that I don’t fancy Adam. Oh dear, what am I going to do about him?’

Rose fluttered her lashes. ‘Leave him to me. I’ll sort our Adam out. With your permission, of course.’

‘Oh, you have it, Rose. Indeed you do.’

Rose realised that she would need to make her move with care. No blundering in or trampling over his feelings. No Mata Hari type seductions. The last thing she wanted was to scare him off. She chose a Wednesday evening when Irma was entertaining her friends to one of their regular supper parties. Gracie had told her that Adam usually stayed out in the fields till quite late, anxious to keep out of their way, but in recent weeks had taken to popping round to the Eagle’s Head later for a swift half with his friends. Perhaps because winter was drawing on. This evening when he called, Rose was waiting for him. He seemed flatteringly pleased to see her.

‘I'd forgotten you said that you lived here.’ It was a lie. No real drinker, normally coming only on a Friday to play darts with his mates, Adam had become quite a regular at the Eagle’s Head. ‘Can I get you a drink? What’ll it be?’

Rose, mindful of the child starting to grow within the safety of her still flat abdomen, smiled. ‘A lemonade would be nice.’

‘Aye. Right.’ He approved of that. Even his mother would’ve approved. She never had a good word for lasses who drank. He brought her the lemonade and a half shandy for himself. They sat and sipped their drinks contentedly together.

‘It must be hard work for you, running that place by yourself,’ Rose said. ‘It’s a mixed farm, isn’t it?’

‘Aye. Sheep, a bit of dairy, and a few fields of crop vegetables, as decreed by the government in these troubled times. It’s quite mild here in the Rusland Valley, and we plough every corner these days. Anyway, it keeps me out of mischief.’

Rose sipped at her lemonade. ‘I used to do a lot of vegetable gardening myself when I lived in Cornwall. Tomatoes were my speciality. We had huge glass houses that ran the length of one wall. Grew cucumbers, lettuce, courgettes, marrows, the lot. Fed the entire WTC training camp with my veg, I did.’ She was suddenly stricken with panic, wondering what on earth had prompted her to reveal so much about herself. Yet he seemed pleased that she had. He was listening with rapt attention, his expression intense.

‘By heck, I never realised that. Was it a big place then?’

‘A large estate, yes. Oh, it wasn’t ours. My brother...’ - pausing a moment, she corrected herself - ‘my adopted brother worked there as manager. Then when it was requisitioned for the Timber Corps, Eddie stayed on as caretaker. I helped a bit.’ An understatement if ever there was one. Hadn’t she done most of the work? Even the mention of Eddie’s name brought a chill to the back of her neck, as if he were breathing on it. She shivered.

Adam picked up on her distress. ‘ Were you adopted, or him?’

‘Me.’

‘That must’ve been tough.’

‘It shouldn’t have been but I didn’t know, you see, not until after my parents, my - adopted parents that is, were both dead. So I couldn’t ask them whether it made any difference, my not being their own child.’

‘I’m quite sure it didn’t,’ Adam said kindly. ‘They must have wanted you very much to have chosen you, and taken you into their lives. They no doubt loved you exactly as if you were their own.’

Rose looked up at him, eyes filling with a rush of tears. ‘What a very sweet thing to say. And you’re right. They did love me. I tend to forget - after - after the things Eddie said and did. They spoiled me rotten, in fact. It was Eddie who - well, he was jealous. I can understand how he must have felt, having his nose pushed out of joint by this little squirt who’d suddenly been foisted upon him.’

Adam said nothing. After a moment, Rose took a deep breath and went on with her story. ‘He wasn’t very kind to me, you see.’ Suddenly it all came spilling out, the resentments Eddie had felt towards her, the constant criticisms and bullying, the peevish way he’d made her do all the chores, making her wait on him hand, foot and finger. ‘Even had me cooking for Gertie, who was supposed to be the housekeeper, for heaven’s sake. I worked my socks off in that place, without a word of gratitude.’ And before she could stop herself, she’d launched into the tale of Dexter Mulligan.

‘Are you saying the man tried to - that he actually attempted to - to rape you?’ Adam was appalled, filled with horror that anybody should do such a terrible thing, particularly to Rose who seemed so young and fresh and innocent.

‘Oh, he tried right enough. Not that I gave him chance. I poured hot custard all over his ardour. That cooled him off, I can tell you.’

‘
Custard!’
Adam put back his head and roared with laughter. Rose laughed along with him, because suddenly she saw that it was funny, as well as a waste of good custard. This was the point in her mind where she always drew the story to a close. ‘By heck, Rose love, you’re a one, you really are. A proper card.’

She looked quickly down at her clasped hands. Now was the moment. Her best chance. ‘I heard you’d asked Gracie to be your wife. Is that right?’ When he didn’t answer immediately, she sneaked a sideways glance up at him from under her lashes.

‘Did she tell you?’

Rose nodded. ‘I was surprised. I never realised you and she were, well - you know - close.’

Adam experienced the sudden urge to agree, to say that she was quite right, they weren’t in the least bit close. But how could he say that? She’d think he’d run mad. Not even a daft lump of a farmer would propose to someone they weren’t close to, or at least imagined they were. He cleared his throat, desperately struggling to find an answer to his dilemma. He couldn’t ever remember getting himself into such a pickle, and all because he’d acted on impulse. You should never rush at anything. Hadn’t he said that all his life? And he shouldn’t always listen to his mother. She didn’t know everything. ‘It was a mistake.’ There. He’d said it. The words just spilled out of his mouth of their own accord. ‘I should’ve given it a bit more thought like, afore I asked her. I weren’t thinking clearly.’

Rose was nodding sympathetically. ‘You’ve changed your mind then?’ Her voice was soft and gentle, coaxing him to confide in her.

‘Aye, you could say so.’

Now he was gazing at her with such fervent appeal for understanding, such adoration in his eyes, that Rose found herself actually blushing. ‘Is this because of what happened the other day, between you and me? We were rather cosy at that supper. I thought, for a minute there when you were holding my hand, that you might be about to kiss me. Not that I’d’ve minded. I was quite looking forward to it, as a matter of fact. But then your mam came in. Never do have good timing, do they, mothers?’

Adam grinned, relishing her sense of humour, feeling a surge of joy at those simple words:
quite looking forward to it
. He had definitely wanted to kiss her, which, at the time, had surprised him, having already made up his mind that Gracie was the girl for him. It amazed him that Rose had felt the same way. Now he knew with a certainty that excited him, that it was Rose he wanted. She was different. Exciting. Irreverent almost. ‘I'd made up my mind to ask her, you see, so I did. But even as I said the words, I kept thinking about you. Only it was too late.‘