For a second Rowena didn’t reply. Then she said, ‘Only too well, considering I have never had a father.’
‘You ungrateful little chit! I ought to horsewhip you—’
The colonel came to an abrupt halt as Abby stepped in front of him, cutting off his advance on Rowena. ‘You’d have to take us all on, I’m afraid, Colonel,’ she said very clearly.
He glowered down at her, his hands clenched fists by his sides. Then he turned abruptly, jerked his head at his wife and said, ‘Back to the car,’ before stalking out of the room.
‘Goodbye, Rowena.’ Mrs Hetherton-Smith’s face had lost all semblance of amusement as she moved to stand directly in front of her daughter. ‘May I wish you happiness for the future?’
Rowena swallowed. ‘If you mean it.’
‘I mean it.’ The older woman bent and kissed the stiff face. ‘We’ve never understood each other, have we, and I’d be the first to say I’ve never got the hang of this mother thing, but . . . you are my child. I would like you to be happy.’
‘Thank you.’ They all saw Rowena relax slightly but she said nothing more as her mother left the room.
There was a stillness in the kitchen which no one broke until the sound of the car drawing away came to their ears. Tears were running from Rowena’s eyes and she sank back down into her seat, but then a wan smile surfaced when Winnie said, ‘By, lass, and I thought my da was a rum ’un.’
‘His life’s the army, it always has been. He eats, drinks and sleeps it. And Mother, well, you saw how she is. As a little girl I used to wonder why she wasn’t like some of the other mothers I knew. Why she never cuddled Richard or me, and why we were only allowed out of the nursery to kiss her goodnight at a specific time. I thought it was us, that there was something wrong with my brother and me, until I learned she just has very little feeling.’
‘That’s putting it kindly,’ Winnie said bluntly. ‘So, poor little rich girl, eh, lass?’
‘Don’t say that. It’s what I’ve dreaded you all saying since we met, that’s why I never explained what it was like at home. I know I had it easy and compared to you it was all a doddle, but—’
‘We’re not saying you had it easy.’ Abby took one of Rowena’s hands and Winnie clasped the other. ‘There are lots of different ways of being miserable.’
‘Aye, that’s the truth,’ Winnie agreed softly. ‘Me, I’ve always eaten for comfort. Fat old Winnie, always good for a laugh.’
‘You’re not fat,’ Rowena lied stoutly. ‘Plump, maybe, but fetchingly so.’
‘Oh, lass.’ Winnie was laughing now. ‘Only you could say I’m fetching.’
Thank goodness they were all right again. Abby smiled at Gladys who was still holding the baby and received a smile back.
‘We’d better finish our lunch,’ Abby said practically, ‘and when we’ve finished perhaps you’d like to go and get the men’s water bottles, Rowena, so Gladys can take them a drink a bit later. And tell them we expect them in for dinner. All right?’
This last was directed at Winnie and Gladys, who both nodded. Everyone knew she was really saying Mario was welcome in the kitchen again.
‘All right, boss.’ Rowena was now grinning from ear to ear and looking happier than she had in weeks.
Abby and Rowena left the kitchen together a short time later, while Winnie stayed behind to feed Joy, and as Abby watched her friend fly across the fields to where Mario was as though she had wings on her feet her expression was pensive. The two of them wouldn’t have it easy. Italian prisoners of war throughout the country were no longer kept in camps and hostels and sent out to work in gangs under the control of armed soldiers like they had been to begin with, they were allowed to live on farms with relative freedom, but there was still a good deal of resentment against them. And certainly the shilling a day the farm paid them, as laid down by the Geneva Convention, wouldn’t provide much of a nest egg for when the war ended. In the
Farmers Weekly
there had been a report only the other week which had labelled all Italians excitable and born lazy, finishing with the bitter comment that to see them cycling around the countryside in their time off was little short of offensive. This was obviously written by someone with a real grudge but that didn’t help the ordinary working man’s perception of the prisoners of war. Abby had had the foresight to rip the offending article out of the magazine before Rowena had had a chance to read it, but she had thought about it often since. It reflected the current mood and it wasn’t pretty. She just hoped the two of them would have the sense to keep their heads down and say little until the war ended and things began to get sorted.
Abby watched Rowena talk urgently to Mario for a moment or two before he lifted her up right off the ground into his arms and swung her round and round. She smiled to herself. Maybe they would be all right.
Suddenly she wanted the warmth of Ike’s kindly voice, the strength of tender arms about her and the feel of his hard body holding her close. She was longing to see him tonight. This love which had crept up on her had become very precious.
Chapter Nineteen
A
s with James years before, Abby knew immediately she looked into Ike’s face what he was about to say. ‘You’re going to be sent abroad.’ She stared at him, her hand going to her mouth as he jumped out of the Jeep and took her into his arms.
‘Hey, honey, come on.’ He pulled her into him, his voice deep and soft. ‘We knew it would happen sooner or later, didn’t we?’
When she could speak, she said, ‘When?’
‘Tomorrow morning.’ And as she gave a little gasp, he added, ‘Early.’
‘Where?’
‘Not sure exactly. The US War Department’s announced the Japanese homeland must be invaded soon; it’s going to be an all-out push against them now. That’s all we’ve been told for the present. Then again the long-awaited invasion of Europe is well overdue and there’s been noises about that too. The fact is no one knows for sure and maybe it’s best that way.’
It wasn’t best. How could he say it was best? She wanted to know where he was going.
Her face must have spoken for her because as she drew away from him and looked up into his eyes, he smiled, saying, ‘Don’t fight it, honey. Go with the flow. It’s the only way.’
Go with the flow! The American saying grated like never before. She didn’t want to go with the flow. She wanted to scream and yell and hang on to him for dear life. ‘I don’t think I can be very grown up about this,’ she said in a small voice.
In spite of the gravity of the situation and her tragic face, Ike found himself chuckling out loud. ‘You’re priceless.’ He hugged her to him again, smelling her freshly washed hair which carried the scent of apple blossom and summer days. His voice husky now, he said, ‘Can we get out of here to somewhere private? Somewhere we can talk a while?’
Abby nodded. She climbed into the Jeep without another word and drew her cardigan more closely round her shoulders. The evening had turned quite chilly, but she knew the shivery feeling which had taken hold had nothing to do with the weather. He was going away.
After a minute or two of silence as the Jeep bumped and jolted its way along the farm track and out into the rough road beyond, Ike said, ‘Do you mind if we don’t go dancing tonight? I’m not in the mood.’
‘Me neither.’ She felt as if the world had fallen about her ears.
They went to a little pub they knew some way between the farm and the village which had a garden bordering the river. After Ike had bought two beers and handed over half a crown to the barmaid, they made their way out of the bar and into the grounds outside, finding a quiet bench close to the water. The air was heavy with the sweetness of freshly mown grass, the water as clear as crystal as it lapped and gurgled its way over stones made smooth by age. There were one or two other couples dotted about the garden, all the men in uniform and each couple talking very quietly. The rear of the pub was covered in wisteria and the perfume from its fragrant blooms carried on the breeze. It was too beautiful. Too poignant. Abby felt as though her heart would break.
‘I’ll come back for you. However long it takes, I’ll come back for you. You know that, don’t you?’
The velvet brown of his eyes was almost black as he put his hand over hers, but Abby found she couldn’t reply. She had the urge to let the tears flow but she told herself she couldn’t let go now. Every minute, every second of this evening was precious and not to be squandered on self-pity. She had to show him she could be strong; he had enough to think about without worrying about her.
It took a few moments but then she was able to say, ‘I’ll be waiting.
You
know
that
, don’t you?’
She felt his fingers tighten on hers. ‘I hoped so. Abby, I never thought I would fall in love again, not the way I felt after Eleanor had gone. It was too painful, too . . .’ He waved his free hand, unable to express himself further.
‘I know, I know,’ she said.
‘And I certainly never expected to ask anyone to marry me.’
‘No, don’t.’ Her hand lifted to his lips. ‘Don’t say it. Please don’t, Ike. When . . . when you come back. Say it then.’ James had asked her and then he had gone away and never come back. It would be history repeating itself. But if he didn’t ask her now, if he waited, it might be all right.
She knew she had disconcerted him and for a moment it looked as though he was going to protest, then his face cleared. His voice soft, he said, ‘When I come back? It’s a date, my love. Because I’m coming back for you and nothing will stop me.’
He had understood. Her hand moved to his chin which was freshly shaven and her fingers stroked the little cleft there. ‘I love you,’ she said. And she meant it with all her heart.
PART SIX
Changes
1945
Chapter Twenty
W
hen the alarm jangled her awake, Abby lay for some moments in the semi-gloom before she remembered. It was VE Day. Churchill was going to announce the war in Europe was over at three o’clock that afternoon. Everyone was going to a special thanksgiving service at the parish church at noon, followed by a tea party in the village hall after the Prime Minister’s broadcast.
It was finished.
She glanced across the room to where Joy was lying snuggled into Winnie’s side like a puppy. The child was teething, and although she started off each night in the small bed Mario had made for the little girl, which had been squeezed in next to her mother’s, she invariably ended up in Winnie’s. Joy was fast asleep, rosy cheeks flushed and silken brown curls drooping over her forehead. She was a beautiful little tot with the sunniest nature imaginable, and, pray God, Abby thought, she would never have to go through another war. This
had
to be the war that ended all wars.
Abby’s gaze moved to Rowena. Today’s announcement would have little effect on them here at the farm, especially for her friend. How long it would be before Rowena and Mario could or would dare marry she didn’t know. Certainly for the foreseeable future the government had decided prisoners of war would continue working on the land where applicable, and there were no plans to disband the Land Army for the present. Gladys had heard nothing from Vincent from the day he’d left the farm so they didn’t know if he was dead or alive, or whether he would ever come home even if he had survived the war.
Abby turned onto her back, staring up at the whitewashed ceiling. She’d have to try and enter into the spirit of things today, but with Japan still needing to be subdued and Ike in the thick of it she didn’t feel like letting her hair down. Twelve months. Twelve months of missing him and worrying about him and feeling now and again something terrible had happened, only to receive a letter which would put her mind at rest. For a while. She’d learned her presentiments weren’t to be trusted because she’d had Ike dead and buried at least half a dozen times.
‘Stupid,’ she muttered to herself, swinging her legs out of bed. But she didn’t seem able to apply any logic or reason to how she felt. And she missed him so.
She padded across the room and drew back the thin curtains. The morning was wet and thundery. The blackout restrictions had been lifted a couple of weeks ago and it had been wonderful to take down the thick black material which had blocked even a chink of light, although since then a wet spell had meant the skies had been dull and grey. But the summer was coming and soon sunshine would herald the start of a new day. It would be wonderful to wake up to sunbeams dancing across the room.