For All Our Tomorrows (25 page)

Not quite the response Sara had hoped for but she reached for the kettle, determined not to rise to the sarcasm. Settled with a cup of steaming tea cradled between her frozen hands, which for some reason she couldn’t seem to get warm this morning, Sara prepared to put her question to her mother. There was never any point in beating about the bush with Sadie who could spot any attempt at clever manipulation a mile off. Certainly whenever Sara tried it. ‘Can I move in with you for a while? Hugh and I are having a few – difficulties - at present, so I need somewhere to go.’

‘What, to lick your wounds?’

‘I suppose you could say that, yes. I’d be bringing the children.’

‘Had a row have you? Been quarrelling with that lovely man? You don’t know when you’re well off, girl.’

‘Not exactly quarrelling, no, but I just need . . .’

‘You need your head seeing to, that’s what you need. And why would I want a houseful of children? Haven’t I enough with your sister’s men friends, and her coming and going, getting under me feet the whole time. I shall be glad when she’s finally wed and I can get a bit of peace around here. If you’re short of something to do, you could come and help out at the salon. You could wash customer’s hair at least, even if you’re not capable of doing anything else. Though I expect you think yourself above such menial labour.’

Sara closed the door softly as she left. What on earth had possessed her to imagine that her own mother would help?

The very next time Hugh went out with Iris in the boat, he felt as nervous as a young boy. Why had he agreed to this madness? Because he really didn’t have any choice, not if he was to live to see the end of the war.

They picked up two young airmen and the operation passed off quite smoothly, as usual. He breathed a sigh of relief.

Acting as carrier pigeon was a far more hazardous exercise. His first experience came later in the week. Never had he experienced such fear. He was dropped somewhere close to the same area around the Brittany coast where he’d abandoned the aircrew, except that this time there was no canoe waiting. Wearing a rubber waterproof suit he swam ashore without too much difficulty. He carried false papers comprising a work permit and ration cards, all with official-looking German stamps which Iris assured him would pass scrutiny were ever to be challenged.

Hugh didn’t care to even consider such a possibility. Placing a parcel by a railway line under cover of darkness was one thing, actually walking into town in broad daylight, into the enemy camp as it were, was quite another.

Yet he did what was required of him. He secreted the suit behind a rock, then took the package to the address he’d been given, collecting some papers in exchange from the woman behind the counter of the little
patisserie,
and in a blessedly short time was hurrying back out of town in great haste.

Never had he felt more relieved to be safely back on board his own boat. And to find Iris waiting for him.

They enjoyed a bottle of French wine together on the journey back, which helped to ease relations between them but there was apparently to be no rekindling of their passion. When he made an approach, placed his hands on her breasts, she laughingly pushed them aside. ‘I don’t need to suffer your clumsy advances any longer.’

‘Clumsy? I didn’t hear you complaining of that at the time.’

‘Ok, so some of it was fun, but I have a much stronger hold on you now.’

He hated her for that, could easily have strangled her with his bare hands there and then, were it not for his stronger need for his own survival. ‘So where’s my share of the loot,?’ greedy to at least get his hands on the cash.

What loot?’

‘The money you promised me for doing this courier business for you.’

‘Be patient. You’ll get your reward, all in good time.’

Following the rejection by her mother, Sara moved her things out of their bedroom, into the guest room. Hugh moved them back, remonstrating with her, pointing out that she couldn’t escape her responsibilities by hiding away in there.

‘I’m not hiding away, but I will not tolerate such love-making, if you can call it that. I won’t have it, Hugh.’

He stared at her as if he’d never realised before that she had a voice, let alone the courage to use it.

‘Are you saying we are going to sleep apart in future, that you are leaving the marital bed?’ His eyes were hard and angry.

‘For the moment, yes. Until you’re out of this dreadful mood or depression, that you’re in.’

She could only think that his behaviour was influenced by these ops he was involved with, whatever they were. Somehow they seemed to have hardened and toughened him in a way that was really quite alarming. ‘If I didn’t firmly believe that marriage should never be abandoned lightly, I’d leave now, this minute.’

She wouldn’t of course, because of the children. She already regretted involving Sadie because, like it or not, her mother was right in a way. Hugh was still her husband and clearly in need of care to help him deal with whatever devils were troubling him. Sara had made up her mind that this current difficulty was a phase which would hopefully pass.

‘You will not leave, Sara. You are my wife and will ever remain so. You can stay in the guest room, if you insist, but when I want you, I shall come for you. I have my rights.’

Sara locked the guest room door and sank onto the bed to find that she was trembling.

He was right, she couldn’t ever leave him. But if she couldn’t escape, then she must help to make him better. And if she couldn’t do that either, then she would simply have to endure. At least she had her darling children.

She did her best to be understanding, to behave like the good, obedient wife she’d always been, the one Hugh expected and demanded. She was as compliant as butter, anxious to prove her loyalty and innocence, and to keep his unpredictable temper sweet. She made him tasty meals, kept the children out of his way, made no mention of her war work and never asked to borrow the car.

She privately resolved never again to accept a lift from Charlie, or Lieutenant Charles Denham as she must now think of him. Any feelings she held in that direction must be resisted and ignored at all cost, on the grounds that she was still a respectable, married woman and would ever remain so.

Night after night she would lie in the guest bed and hear him shuffle to her door and knock gently. ‘Sara, can I come in? I’m so sorry for what I did. I’m ashamed of myself. I don’t know what came over me. Come back to bed, let’s try again. I need you beside me. Let’s stop quarrelling.’

She lay with tears sliding down her cheeks, dampening her pillow, remembering the Hugh she had once loved.

One bright spring morning, Sara was washing up after breakfast when Bette burst into the kitchen all noise and energy, gabbling out her news at record speed since she never did anything quietly. ‘He’s done it. Barney has fixed me up with transport. There’s a freight carrier leaving for the States on the first tide on Monday. It’s going to cost me thirty-seven pounds, ten shillings, plus money for rail fare and meals in the States, but I’m off. It’s going to happen. Isn’t that wonderful? Oh, and that means I’ve got three days to prepare for my wedding.’

Sara nearly dropped the plates she was stacking. ‘You can’t be serious. You don’t even have the major’s permission to marry, do you?’

‘So what? Barney has wangled a special licence, thanks to Sadie and Cory giving their permission, and lending me the money, so by the time the major finds out, it’ll be too late. The deed will have been done.’

‘You can’t leave, just like that, so suddenly.’ Sara’s grey-green eyes had quite lost their habitual calm, as they grew round with panic.

Bette ran to put her arms about her sister and the pair hugged and wept.

Hugh sat at the dining table with the newspaper spread out before him, covertly watching the two girls. From Sara’s behaviour, chatting to the children, making toast for their breakfast, you’d have thought that she didn’t have a care in the world. Just as if the events of the other night had never taken place. Now here was in floods of tears over a wedding.

‘But when will I see you again?’ Sara said. ‘Maybe not for years. How will I manage without you?’

‘Oh, don’t say such things.’

‘Hugh, tell her she mustn’t leave, that we need her here, with us. Tell her to wait till the war is over when they can go together. Tell her, Hugh.’

‘She must do as she wishes.’

Personally, he’d be glad to see the back of the stupid girl, interfering busybody that she was. Not that he approved of her decision to marry a Yank and run off to America. Craziest thing he ever heard of, except that Sara might behave better without her sister’s troubling influence around. As an only child, he’d had no such soul-mate, had no one to take his side, so he couldn’t understand the fuss Sara was making.

The maroon went up at precisely that moment. ‘That’s the lifeboat. I have to go.’ He folded his paper with some relief, and quickly left. He really couldn’t bear to witness their sickening closeness a moment longer.
 

The call-out involved a rescue mission on a burning ship. It was a Dutch cargo boat with a sizeable crew all in something of a panic, running here, there and everywhere. This, he thought, was the very opportunity he’d been seeking to improve his situation. Being hailed as a hero after some of these missions was all very flattering, but did little to fatten his wallet, and acting as a secret agent for the enemy could prove to be even less profitable, since he had little faith in the promises Iris had made to him.

Hugh had therefore resolved to use his wits and take advantage of whatever hazardous situation he found himself in, otherwise where was the point in it all?

If the war really was to be over soon, he needed to secure his future, make certain that he was in the best possible position to look after his family. A fine house on the esplanade perhaps, a new car. He deserved these things for the risks he’d taken. A few spoils of war.

He managed somehow to be among those who went on board, and in the chaos, while his colleagues were searching cabins ensuring the ship had been properly evacuated before it was sunk, he carried out a swift search on his own account.

It proved to be most profitable, yielding three gold watches, several sets of fine cuff-links, tie-pins and, from the captain’s cabin, a selection of silk ties. He also found a stamp collection, which surely must be worth a bob or two. Serve the captain right for being foolish enough to bring it with him.

Pleased with his hoard, he rapidly stuffed them in his jacket pockets and was back shouting ‘clear the decks’ in no time.

The fire had a tenacious hold by this time but no lives were lost, and for Hugh at least, the exercise had been a lucrative one as he was able to cash in his hoard, taking care to sell only one item at a time, and to different second-hand dealers in various localities so as not to arouse suspicion.

The two sisters spent a frantic day rifling through wardrobes, choosing and altering dresses, finding something borrowed, something blue. Barney popped into the pub that evening and was informed that he certainly could not see what she would be wearing. Sara smiled as Bette ran to kiss him, the pair seeming to be in a happy daze, at least Bette was. Barney looked more stunned than anything, as if events had overwhelmed him and he couldn’t quite take it all in.
 

But then who could blame him, poor boy? One minute he’d been fooling around with a pretty girl, the next he was about to put a wedding ring on her finger and become a father. Probably not at all what he’d expected.

Sara hoped and prayed that Bette was making a wise choice, that he would make her happy.

Watching them together, she couldn’t help feeling a pang of envy for her sister’s newfound joy, even if it was clouded by a slight apprehension for her. What wedding didn’t have doubts and anxiety attached? This was a new chapter in her life, a new beginning, but Sara was pleased for her, she really was. Bette was bubbling over with happiness, as if she’d been drinking pink champagne.

Even so, had her sister been capable of a single coherent thought beyond her coming wedding, Sara would have gone to her, even now, and begged her not to go. The thought of Bette leaving on Monday morning brought a sick feeling to the pit of her stomach. She would miss her so much. Sara couldn’t begin to imagine life without her. Particularly now when her own life seemed to have fallen into the realms of nightmare.

She longed to pour out her heart, to confide in Bette about what Hugh was doing to her, yet hesitated to do so. How could she spoil her sister’s happiness? It would be too cruel. If they must part, let it be with good, happy thoughts, not troubles and worries.

Besides, what could Bette do? They were both helpless against Hugh. When he put his mind to it, he could be unspeakably, heartlessly cruel. She’d never known him to be quite as bad as this before, and didn’t quite know how to deal with it.

Sara put her arms about her beloved sister. ‘Darling Bette, you look so beautiful. I wish with all my heart, that you are granted a happier marriage than I.’

‘Oh, please, Sara, don’t. You’ll make me cry all over again.’