The Lie (15 page)

‘Yes, of course,' he said, but his eyes didn't quite meet hers. She realized he was thinking that he might be killed at any time. ‘I'll ring you as soon as I can – and you will telephone Amelia? I'm sure they would love you to visit when you can.'

‘I shan't forget,' Emily said, and blew a kiss as the train moved off with a great bellow of steam and a shrill whistle. She watched as it clanked and chugged along the length of the platform, gathering speed as it left the station, and she went on watching until it disappeared from sight, before turning away to catch her own train.

Once seated inside the rather smoky carriage, she opened her newspaper. The headlines were shrieking about the latest bombing raids over various cities and towns, bringing back memories that she had been able to put aside for a few hours. A cold shiver went down Emily's spine as she read the numbers of dead and injured.

Most of her family were safe enough in a sleepy little village that might see an occasional bomb falling on the aerodrome, apart from Daniel who was spending his sick leave in London – and her husband.

Emily looked at the wedding ring on her finger. It hardly seemed to belong there, and she was beginning to feel as if she had woken from a dream. But no, it was true, she was Simon's wife. They had made love twice, once when she was so high on champagne and excitement that she hadn't been able to stop giggling, and once in the morning before they got up.

The second time had been very different. Oh, Simon had been as considerate as before, but this time he was silent, intense, as if driven by his passion. For Emily some of the sheer joy of their first time had been missing, but it was still good and she'd had no reason to complain.

Afterwards, Simon had gone into the adjoining bathroom and she'd heard the water running as he took a bath. When he came out, he was smiling but he still didn't say much. It wasn't until they were about to part that he'd begun to talk. She supposed that he was anxious about returning to his base, tense about the possibility that this might be all the time they would have together. He must have faced it as she had – he could be killed the next time he went up in a plane.

No, she wouldn't think like that! If anything happened to Simon it would mean that Marcus might be killed too, and it couldn't happen. She and Frances couldn't both lose their husbands. It wasn't going to be that way.

Daniel read the telegram with a frown. He had been asked to report for his medical in seven days, a little sooner than he'd expected. It meant he ought to go home, see to a few things. His visit to London had lasted much longer than he'd intended and he wanted to finish working on the car he'd bought. He could use it to get himself to the military hospital. If he was going to be based here in England rather than abroad, he might as well keep it for a while.

He had sent Alice a few postcards while he was in town and now he decided he would buy her a present. He had bought a silver teapot for Emily, and a large tin of toffee for Connor – but he wanted something special for Alice.

What would she like? He didn't really know her well, though they'd had fun together and she'd taken what he had to say about not getting married for a while in good humour.

He supposed, in a way, that by saying what he had he'd more or less committed to marrying her one day, providing that he came through the rest of the war and she hadn't met anyone else she preferred. Well, he'd never met anyone else he liked half as much, though he wasn't sure about being in love. Daniel wasn't ready to be in love just yet.

That didn't stop him thinking of buying Alice something special, though, and when he saw the pretty antique gold heart on a fine chain he didn't hesitate to buy it.

Paying Margaret had taken his savings but he still had his service pay and he hadn't spent much of it for weeks. He got fed at the various halls and hostels where he helped out, and he still had enough left to get home and take Alice to the pictures a few times.

Alice nursed her excitement as she read Daniel's postcard for the tenth time that day. He would be home that evening and she was longing to see him. She had been lucky enough to be accepted as a land girl and at the moment she was splitting her time, working for her father three days a week and three for another local farmer, which meant she got either Saturday or Sunday off.

The next day was Saturday and she'd already decided to work on Sunday. That meant she and Daniel could go out somewhere if he wanted.

Alice had missed him while he was away, but she was a sensible girl and Daniel had been honest with her. He liked her a lot but wasn't planning to get married for a few years. Although she would've liked to be married or engaged, Alice didn't feel let down or miserable. She was very young. She enjoyed her life and she knew her parents wouldn't want her to marry for a long time. Her mother had always warned her to be careful men didn't take advantage of her, but Mrs Robinson wasn't ready to part with her daughter yet, still thinking of her as a girl rather than the woman she was.

Alice wasn't desperate about marriage just yet anyway. All that mattered was that Daniel cared enough to be straight in his dealings with her, and to send her postcards. She hoped the Army would give him a nice safe job at home. At least then she might get to see him sometimes.

‘Daydreaming again! Those cows won't muck themselves out, Alice!'

She glanced over her shoulder. ‘Sorry, Jim,' she said. ‘I got a postcard this morning. Daniel is coming back for a few days.'

‘You'll want tomorrow off, then?'

‘Yes, please. I'll work Sunday instead.'

‘Nay, lass. Take a couple of days off. I can manage for once.'

Alice thanked him and wheeled her barrow into the cowshed, attacking the piles of dung and straw with a will. The smell in here was strong and not many girls would want a job like hers, but Alice had grown up around farm animals and she took no notice of it. She smiled and whistled tunelessly as she worked. Jim was a nice man and only in his early thirties. It was a terrible shame he'd lost his wife so young.

‘You lucky thing!' Maura hugged Emily when she saw her rings. ‘I wish I'd done the same when I had the chance.'

‘Simon was so – so
down
,' Emily confided. ‘I felt that if I didn't agree he might  . . . oh, I don't know. I wanted to give him something and I'm really happy we got married, but do you think they will send me home? You know what the services are like about married women.'

‘If you were in the Wrens they would throw you out sure enough,' Maura said cheerfully. ‘I think our lot are more reasonable; they have to be, because there aren't enough of us. Anyway, why tell them? I said you'd been called home urgently. You needn't wear your rings at work. Keep quiet and you'll have no trouble.'

‘I suppose I could  . . .' Emily hesitated. ‘At least for a while  . . .'

‘If you have a babby you'll be asked to leave anyway – you aren't, are you?'

‘Not to my knowledge,' Emily said, and blushed. ‘I'll keep it to myself then, talk to Simon when he comes home next time.'

‘Good for you,' Maura said, and then bit her bottom lip. ‘They say I can visit John next Sunday. I'm not sure if I can do it, Emily.'

‘You want to see him, don't you?'

‘Yes  . . . but I'm scared. I think I might start crying or lose my nerve at the last minute.' She pulled a face. ‘Would you come with me?'

‘Yes, of course,' Emily agreed without hesitation. ‘Don't worry, Maura, it probably won't be half as bad as you think.'

It was a horrid position to be in, Emily thought, feeling sorry for her friend. Maura loved John but she couldn't face the idea of him being badly scarred. No one knew how they would cope in such a situation. Emily shivered and offered up a silent prayer that it wouldn't happen to Simon.

They were busy every night that week. The Germans seemed to be saying it was all or nothing, and that was probably due to the bravery and skill of Britain's fly-boys. They were doing a magnificent job of shooting down enemy bombers, but they couldn't prevent the raids taking place. The newspapers were filled with all kinds of stories, veering from gung-ho triumph to deepest gloom.

Sunday arrived at last and the girls caught their train, then a bus to the military hospital at Portsmouth. Maura didn't talk much on the way there, and outside the hospital she almost lost her nerve.

‘I can't do it,' she said. ‘Sure, I know I'm the world's worst coward, but me legs have gone to jelly, so they have.'

‘I'll come with you,' Emily promised. ‘I visited a fireman in Addenbrooks Hospital who had been burned and it wasn't too bad, really. Where is John, do you know?'

‘Down here I think,' Maura said in a hoarse whisper. ‘It's one of those small wards with only a couple of patients  . . .'

Emily gave her a quick squeeze. ‘Bear up, love, it will be all right.'

However, when they finally stood at the airman's bedside, Emily felt the vomit rise in her throat. Terry's burns had been superficial to his face and nothing like this. John's scars were horrendous, his eyelashes and eyebrows gone, lids puckered and swollen, mouth like a red gash in skin that was brownish purple in some places and blistered. He looked hideous and pitiful and Emily's heart was wrung with pain for his hurt.

She glanced at Maura, who had gone a pasty white, wanting to find words of comfort for her friend but knowing there were none in this case. John had opened one eye and was looking up at them. She knew that he was aware of Maura's revulsion.

‘Hello,' she said softly, in an effort to ease the tension. ‘We've been thinking about you all the time.'

‘Go away!' The hissing whisper was directed at Maura. ‘They shouldn't have let you come here.'

Maura stared at him for a moment, the horror evident in her eyes, and then she turned and ran from the ward. Emily lingered for a few seconds. Her heart was torn with pity for her friend but most of all for the poor man whose life had been so cruelly shattered.

‘I'm so sorry,' she said, but his eyes were closed. She doubted that he knew she was there. ‘So very sorry  . . .'

‘What are you doing here?' a nurse demanded as she hurried towards Emily. ‘You aren't allowed in here without clearance.'

Emily looked at her blankly. ‘I'm sorry, I came with a friend.' Had Maura known she had to have clearance? Surely she must have done, but she'd chosen to ignore it. ‘I didn't know—'

‘You'll have to leave,' the nurse said. ‘Visiting is only for family and you aren't – are you? I haven't seen you here before.'

Emily didn't bother to explain. She ignored the nurse and walked out of the hospital. Maura was sitting on a wooden bench, staring out towards the sea but seeing nothing, her eyes glazed, her face blank. It was clear that she was suffering from shock. Emily sat down beside her.

‘It'll get better,' she said. ‘They can do quite a lot for burns now.'

‘He would be better off dead. I wish he would die. I wish I'd never seen him that way.'

‘You don't mean that, love.'

‘Yes, I do!' Maura rounded on her, eyes blazing. ‘You don't know – you can't know how this feels.'

‘I can imagine it's awful.'

‘But you don't
know
,' Maura said bitterly. ‘He was so lovely.'

‘He's the same person.'

‘No, never! I can't see him again. I don't want to.'

Emily looked at her helplessly. Maura sounded hard and uncaring but she wasn't. She was hurting so badly that she didn't know how to cope with her pain.

‘Give it a while, love,' Emily suggested, but Maura simply shook her head. ‘Shall we go home?'

‘You go,' Maura said. ‘I want time on my own.'

There was nothing she could do but watch as Maura walked away. Following would only make her angry. The time might come when Maura could talk. Until then, Emily could only wait and be there when she was needed. She shivered in the chill wind, watching the grey sea foaming about the shore for a moment before turning away. The sky was dark, the weather dismal, making things seem even worse than they were.

She was thoughtful as she caught the train back to Liverpool. Maura was on duty that night but Emily would stand in for her. The poor girl was in no condition to work for the moment. She had been unhappy since the news of John's horrific accident had first come, but something had changed in her when she saw his face. Emily had noticed the spark go out in her eyes, and, remembering now the shock of what they'd seen, her heart wrenched with pity again.

She might as well go straight to work, Emily thought when she left the train in Liverpool. She could have a cup of tea in the canteen before she started the late shift.

‘Emily  . . .' The voice made her jump. She turned, wondering who it could be, and was so surprised when the man laughed at her expression. ‘You didn't expect to see me, did you?'

‘Terry  . . . Terry Burgess,' she cried, feeling pleased as she recognized him. The scar on his cheek had faded considerably and he looked well, his eyes bright. ‘What are you doing here?'

‘I've been transferred. I'm training new recruits. They won't let me back on an engine yet  . . .' He flexed his hands and she saw that his movements were still stiff, the scars very much more noticeable here than on his face. One thumb looked as if it curved in too much towards his palm but was otherwise flexible. He saw the direction of her glance and nodded cheerfully. ‘They're still a bit of a mess and I need more skin grafts, but I'll get there. In the meantime the fire service have to have experienced men to train recruits. We're getting all the rejects from the Army; too old, too stupid – flat feet, they'll do for us.'

‘Oh, Terry,' Emily said, and laughed because he was clearly joking. His smile was making her feel better, lifting the gloom that had hung over her since leaving Maura. ‘So will you be here in Liverpool all the time now?'