‘Can’t she indeed?’
Adam rose to his feet, a gesture which suddenly gave Irma pause to recall her decision to tread carefully. He might seem pliable and soft on the outside, this boy of hers, but he could be stubborn. Hadn’t she proof of that? Changing tack completely, she pinned a smile to her face and began to clear away empty plates. ‘Well you’re probably right. Happen it’s a stomach bug, unless you’re a fast worker, lad.’ She winked broadly at her son. ‘You wouldn’t be the first to think they’d taken enough precautions and found they hadn’t. Nature has her ways and means. I take it she’s not got round to telling you yet then. Shame on her, and you the child’s father.’ She gave these last words the very slightest emphasis and cast a sharp glance at him, to see if she’d struck a chord.
He’d sunk back into his seat and seemed to be in paralysis, staring into space. Irma risked repeating herself, despite her vow of caution. ‘There’s no doubt that you’re the father, I suppose?’ When still he didn’t react, she continued with carefully adopted indifference. ‘Aye, well, I’m sure she’ll get round to telling you, in the end. Can’t keep quiet for ever about a thing like that, now can she? Anyroad, don’t worry, I’ll not let on. It’ll be our little secret.’
‘How do you know? How can you be sure?’
Irma was not about to confess to listening at bathroom doors, so merely laid one finger against the side of her nose and smiled. ‘A woman knows these things. Put it down to female intuition. I just wanted to say that I allus wanted to be a Grandma. You must be very proud, lad.’ It sickened her to have to say such words, in the circumstances, and Irma cast him a sly sideways glance to test his reaction. She recalled a similar situation over Ulverston way, of a young woman who’d married in haste and then confessed she was carrying another man’s child. He was a yank too, if she wasn’t very much mistaken. The girl had run away in the end, out of shame. Nobody had seen her since. Pity this little madam didn’t do the same. Good riddance, would be Irma’s view.
Adam was simply looking bemused, evidently lost for words. He sat staring blankly into space and Irma felt like shaking him. Instead, she refilled his mug to the brim with hot, strong tea, and added a couple of spoons of sugar. To hell with the rationing; the poor boy was in shock. Not only had he no idea about the bairn but, if she was any judge, didn’t seem any more convinced that he was the father than she was. Bad back, my aunt Fanny. Happen he’d got suspicious and they’d had a row or, more likely, the wench had simply refused to carry through her obligations. What would happen now? That was the question. It would be interesting to see what he did about it.
Adam did nothing. Having seen already what came of rushing and making impulsive decisions in life, he wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice. He made up his mind to bide his time. He was a patient man, good at waiting.
‘You can’t spend the winter on the floor,’ Rose told him. ‘You’ll catch your death. Come on, we’ll just cuddle up and hold each other close. We don’t have to try to make love.’
‘I’m not cold, I like it here.’
‘Shall I come down there on the rug with you then?’
‘No!’ He was afraid to go near her now. The near success of their love making when he’d found her naked had revealed all too clearly that he still desired her with a ferocity that ate into the heart of him. Adam knew himself capable of making love to his wife, anywhere at all save in his mother’s bed.
But as the October days grew colder, so did their relationship. Each and every day Adam prayed that she would tell him about the baby and explain. He needed to know why she’d been so cruel as to trick him into marrying her, simply in order to provide the child with a father and, presumably, to save her own reputation. He’d believed every word when Rose had sworn that she loved him. Yet she couldn’t have loved him at all, could she? She’d used him. They were man and wife now, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. Perhaps, deep down, Adam hoped her reasoning hadn’t been out of malice; that she’d married him because she truly was fond of him, that she regretted her liaison with the father of her child, whoever he was, and needed a fresh start. It certainly wasn’t an unusual state of affairs, not with a war on.
As he waited for her to confess, he felt as if he were caught between the two of them, between his wife and his mother. The one urging him to behave like a normal husband, but if he did, he’d ever know whether the child was his or not. The other demanding he be a loyal son and dispose of a wife who had cheated and tricked him. Adam strove to ignore the problem, even to disregard Rose herself, but it wasn’t easy. No matter what she’d done, even if she had used him, he still loved her. He adored Rose and, pregnant or not, she was still utterly entrancing.
She was never shy about undressing before him and he observed her body with increasing interest and curiosity. He saw very little evidence of a thickening waistline, or any swelling of her abdomen. She remained as slender and beautiful as ever. She looked wonderful. His greedy gaze couldn’t have enough of her. There were times when he very nearly challenged her with his knowledge, when he longed to admit that his mother had told him, yet always he backed away from the confrontation and hardened his resolve to wait for her to tell him of her own free will.
Was she afraid to confess? Why? He would never hurt her, surely Rose realised that. He’d fallen for her, great soft lump that he was, and still worshipped the ground she walked on, for all she was carrying another man’s child. At least the waiting would give him time to decide whether he could accept the baby as his own.
And to decide what to do about his mother.
Lou was sympathetic when Rose expressed her dismay over the decision for them to leave. ‘No, it’s right that you should be on your own. You’re still newlyweds, after all.’
Gracie had risen early, packed and already left, saying that since it was a Sunday she wanted to get settled into her new billet quickly, then have some time to walk on the fells. Being the first week in November and the weather still good, there would be few enough opportunities left for walking before winter set in. Neither Rose nor Lou had responded to this remark.
She’d seemed to be in a terrible hurry and unusual state of anxiety. But then the reason for that seemed obvious to them both. No one would offer to help Gracie to pack and settle in because she was still very much in Coventry. Serve her right, Rose thought as she folded a sweater for Lou. It was all her own fault for getting involved with a German officer. And trying to hang on to Adam at the same time. Rose was delighted to be rid of her. She still felt threatened by her presence in the house, jealous and afraid that Adam would come to regret not having chosen Gracie instead of her. It didn’t really trouble Rose whether or not her one time friend was in love with a PoW. That had simply been a convenient excuse for taking revenge.
Rose had come to realise that despite her constant declaration that she was impervious to hurt, this couldn’t, strictly speaking, be true. The more Adam turned away from her, the more she wanted him. She hated the celibate state of their marriage, now she realised why. It was because she loved him. During these first weeks of marriage Rose had come to see her mistake. Josh was the one who had used and cheated her. He no doubt made a habit of taking vulnerable young women to bed. Whereas Adam had always been kind, gentle and supportive, a real gentleman, and yet he excited her. Given half a chance they’d be good together. When their love making had been interrupted by Irma, the time that he’d very nearly taken her on the rug, she’d wept bitter tears. Not simply out of frustration but out of a need to show him how much she truly cared.
Rose was furious that Adam hadn’t insisted Irma move in with her friend Madge. Hadn’t she done everything she could think of to make that possible? And to think he’d actually broached the subject of privacy with her, then chickened out at the last minute.
These thoughts now burst out of her mouth in a rush of self pity. ‘The real problem is his bloody mother. Not you. I know Irma is a lovely lady in many ways; a stalwart of the community and all that, but living in her house, sleeping in her bed, it’s doing my marriage no good at all.’
Lou recognised in the rising pitch of Rose’s voice that all was not sunshine and roses in the Cooper household. There was a storm brewing. In fact she noticed, for the first time, that her friend looked decidedly peaky. She was immediately sympathetic. ‘Are you all right, love? You look a bit green about the gills.’
Rose had never felt more unwell in all her life. If Irma had said nothing further to her about the pregnancy, nor had she offered to help in any way when her sickness and debilitation continued. Didn’t a mother-to-be usually glow and bounce with new vitality? Wasn’t her hair supposed to be lustrous, her skin translucent? She hadn’t found this to be the case at all. More often than not she felt weak and sick, even faint at times. Rose found it hard to get out of bed in a morning and the continual cramps in her stomach seemed to be growing worse. Now she strove to shake the nausea off. ‘I’m fine. It’s that bloody woman. She’d make anyone ill.’
‘Dampening your ardour, is it? Knowing his mother sleeps next door?’
‘She never leaves us alone. Sits with us every night. Interferes the whole time. She still makes all the meals, does everything for him and I’m allowed to do nothing. Yet she blames me. I feel useless, as if I’d no right to be here.’
‘Have you told Adam all of this? Have you explained how you feel?’
‘He knows how I feel. I think he feels the same but does nothing about it. Adam hates to hear a word said against his mam.’
Seeing that her friend was actually trembling, Lou urged Rose to sit down for a moment on the edge of the bed, and gave her a comforting hug. ‘You look as if you’ve overdoing it, actually. Are you sure you’re all right?’
Perhaps it was the sympathy in her tone, or because Rose was anxious to prove that there really was nothing at all wrong with their marriage, or simply needing to break the news before her mother-in-law did, that the next words just seemed to fall out of her mouth of their own accord. ‘It’s just that with the baby coming, it’ll be even more important...’
‘Baby? D’you mean...’ Lou let out a squeal of joy, snatching Rose to her in a fierce hug of delight. ‘No wonder you look like death. You don’t mess about you two, do you?’
Rose could actually feel the blood draining from her face. What had she done? ‘You mustn’t tell anyone. You mustn’t let on that I’ve told you.’
‘Why not? Haven’t you told Adam yet?’
Rose shook her head. ‘How can I with Irma sitting between us like the Angel of Doom the whole damn time.’
Lou said, ‘Grasp the nettle, love. Oh, don’t fret, Irma will be pleased as punch at the prospect of being a grandma. Give it to her straight. She’s used to a bit of straight talking, is Irma. Though I’ll admit the hard part is getting her to shut up long enough to listen to what you have to say. Be firm and stick to your guns. Right?’
Rose looked unconvinced but then, how could she explain to Lou that she was unable to tell Irma she was about to become a grandmother because she’d guessed about Josh, and already suspected that husband and wife weren’t sleeping together. Oh, what a muddle! Nothing was turning out as it should.
She longed to tell Adam the truth, to confess all but he stiffened whenever she approached, as if he couldn’t bear her to be near him. On the rare occasions when he did allow her to kiss his cheek or hug him, Rose recognised a restraint in him, as if he were straining to pull away from her and be free. There certainly hadn’t been any repeat of those few magical moments on the rug.
Sometimes she’d catch him looking at her when he thought himself unobserved, an unreadable expression on his face. These were the most frightening moments and she would worry that perhaps Irma had told him of her suspicions. If her mother-in-law hadn’t done so already, there was always the risk that she would. Rose knew that she’d told no one else herself about the pregnancy, until now, not even consulted a doctor yet. It was her secret, and only when she was sure of Adam would she dare to share it with him. She needed to throw herself upon his mercy. Adam was kind and sweet; a good man. In the end, Rose was perfectly sure that she could persuade him into accepting the baby, as easily as she’d talked him into marrying her. But she had to make her move before Irma put her poisonous slant on things. And it could already be too late.
For the first time since sanctions had been put into place against her, Gracie felt grateful for the fact everyone was avoiding her. The landlady at the Eagle’s Head gave her a tiny room of her own at the back, which meant that as she fretted, made sandwiches and gathered a few items of warm clothing which might be useful for Karl and Erich, there was nobody around to witness her preparations.
Today, the day she had hoped would never come, her intention was to leave the pub at around two o’clock, knapsack on her back, ostensibly to walk over the fells but in truth to hide away at the arranged spot and wait for darkness when Karl would eventually come. It was going to be a long day.
She realised to her dismay, that in her haste to pack and leave Beech Tree Cottage she’d left her thermos flask behind. Outside, it was a cold, bitter day. It was vital that Karl had a hot drink as they made their escape. The greatest risk to survival was the cold, particularly on Lakeland mountains. Gracie decided it wouldn’t take more than twenty minutes to dash over to the cottage on her bike and fetch it.