For All Our Tomorrows (32 page)

‘Wouldn’t you rather live somewhere more exciting, like New York or Washington?’

‘Heck no, I love this old place. It’s my home. Yours too now.

‘Yes,’ Bette said. ‘I suppose it is.’

And now they were alone together in a room they were, apparently, to share. Chad cupped her face with his hand and kissed her, then slipped his arm about her shoulders and kissed her again, with more enthusiasm this time.

It was a warm, loving kiss, not unpleasant in any way but she felt oddly shy with him after all this time, and her heart plummeted with dismay. Even his kisses weren’t quite as she remembered them. Where was the excitement, the thrill that she’d once experienced? All she felt was a deep sadness. Was that because he could only hold her in an awkward, one-armed embrace, or had all her love for him quite gone, leaving only pity in its wake.

‘It sure is good to have you here. You don’t mind sharing a bed right from the start, do you?’ he quietly asked her, and the glitter in his eyes spoke of his need and excitement at the prospect.

‘No, I don’t mind.’

‘Even though we’re not wed? Only we don’t have no spare rooms for guests. Packed to the rafters we are. Won’t trouble you none, will it? I swear I won’t touch you, hon, not till you feel ready. You must be plum tuckered out, for one thing. And Mom and Pop have no objection to our sleeping together, so I reckon it’ll be ok.’ Just as if their opinion mattered more than hers.

‘That’s good,’ Bette agreed, for want of something better to say.

She was surprised that his family were so broad minded on the subject, and also on her own account, not sure that she was quite ready to sleep with him yet. But how could she say as much now that she was here, and about to confess to carrying his child. What possible excuse could she give?

Bette assured him that since they were soon to be man and wife, and since there was no alternative accommodation available, sharing a bed didn’t trouble her in the slightest. She kissed him soundly, to prove the sincerity of her words, striving to pretend that she was as keen as he was.

She wished he would go and leave her in peace for a while, give her time to adjust to all that had happened to her this day but he just stood there, smiling shyly, not quiet knowing what to say.

‘We thought you were dead, Barney and I. We were told you were missing, believed killed in action.’

A shadow seemed to darken his face and Bette wished instantly that she’d not reminded him of that painful time. Then the words seemed to gush out of him, as if she’d tapped a spring.

‘Many men
were
killed at Slapton Sands, I know it. I feel sure of it. Not that anyone’s admitting to it, ya know. They’re pretending the training was all a great success, that nothing went wrong, but we survivors know that it went badly wrong. They messed up good and proper. I remember we set off at the right time, first light, as we’d been ordered to, but the other units didn’t join us. There were delays, something to do with the landing craft not arriving when expected and everyone was held back till later. Unfortunately, the message didn’t get to us in time, so we went anyway. The navy were there, I remember we spotted them, and then all hell broke loose. I don’t remember a damned thing after that, not till I woke up in that hospital bed weeks later.’

She wanted to stop the memories now, put a lid on them and lock them away so she wouldn’t again see his face twist with pain. ‘Well you’re safe home now, that’s all that matters. Best to forget it.’

‘No it isn’t. I can’t forget. I mustn’t. They shouldn’t have done it, shouldn’t have bungled it as they did.’ His tone was harsh, bitter with regret. ‘All my mates – all those young lives. I was lucky, I only lost an arm, broke a leg that mended pretty good, barring a bit of a limp when it aches. Many guys lost much more, were burned, blinded, killed. God knows!’

‘Don’t!’ Bette thought about Barney, still back there fighting.

He seemed to realise he’d gone too far. ‘Sorry, I get a bit carried away.’ He pushed back his shoulders, and drawing in a steadying breath took her to the window to show off the view: a magnificent panorama of mountains spread out before them. Bette tried to give the expected response, say the right things. She wanted to reach out to him, to bring the smile back to his face but couldn’t quite seem able to manage it.
 

If she didn’t love Chad quite as much as she’d hoped, he was still a lovely man and she ought to feel herself fortunate that he still wanted her, was proving to be so considerate and kind, his family so obliging.

In her heart of hearts she knew why she’d come, because Barney had been keen for her to do so, almost relieved to be rid of the responsibility of marrying her. She’d felt it at the time, though had tried to shut her eyes to it. Hadn’t she been the one to do all the planning, done most of the organising for the wedding?

He was only going through the motions to please her, perhaps thinking he’d be called off to war before ever they got around to the ceremony. Maybe he’d have dumped her at the altar. Oh, lord, don’t think about Barney, not right now. It was too late to blame him, to blame anyone. Too late for regrets.

She smiled brightly up at Chad. ‘It’s a lovely spot, but we won’t be living with your family after we’re married, will we? Won’t we find a place of our own?’

‘There’ll be plenty of time to talk about such things later. You’ve only just got here.’

‘Oh, yes, of course. Sorry, I’m always so impatient, wanting to make things happen right away.’ She had to tell him, and now was as good a time as any. ‘Look, there’s something you should know, something I haven’t had the chance to tell you, what with you being transferred. I’m pregnant. I’m having your baby.’

He stared at her for a long moment, seemingly uncomprehending, then his face lit up into an expression of amazement and delight. ‘A
baby
? You’re having my baby?’

He would have swung her up off her feet, but then thought better of it, sat her down on the edge of the bed instead, and finally, at last, offered her a cup of tea.

Bette had to laugh. ‘Later. I’ve waited this long for a cuppa, I can wait till supper. You are pleased then?’

‘Cock-a-hoop!’

‘And you still want to marry me?’

‘Sure I do, the sooner the better,’ and then as quickly as it had appeared, the smile faded. ‘Only, let’s not tell Mom tonight, huh? Give her time to get to know you first.’

‘All right, if you think that’s best.’

‘You don’t mind?’

‘Of course not. Now I’d really like to freshen up and rest, if that’s ok.’

‘Sure thing, hon. Take just as long as you like.’

Bette thought there was a new spring in his step as he left her, and she was glad of it. He deserved some happiness. But she certainly intended to take advantage of his offer of restraint for tonight, at least, and claim over-tiredness; postponing the intimacy they’d once enjoyed until a time when it would feel less daunting.
 

Bette enjoyed the first bath she’d had in nearly two weeks and it was glorious. At last she could relax a little before facing the ordeal of putting on her best frock and bravely facing a group of strangers who were to become her new family: Chad’s parents, his brother Jake, his sister and her husband, and goodness knows how many of their children. What could she possibly have in common with these people?

Bette quite understood Chad’s reluctance to tell his mother about the baby right away. It could wait for another day, but she worried about her possible reaction. She’d been here hours and hadn’t even met a single member of his family yet.

She lay back in the deliciously cool water and suddenly burst into tears, overcome by emotion and a great reluctance to get out of it. She longed to climb into bed this very minute, to curl up and slip into a deep, dreamless sleep and not see anyone. Why hadn’t she believed Sara when she’d insisted that Chad was spinning her a yarn?

Barney too, with his talk of a string of restaurants, not to mention undying love. He’d probably made up the whole thing, bragging he was rich just to get inside her knickers.
 

She began to wonder which of them she could believe, whether both men hadn’t in fact told her a pack of lies. Bette felt stung by her own naivety and foolishness. She saw herself now for what she was, a silly, empty-headed girl with a passion for fun and a longing to see the world. What a gullible fool she’d been, drinking in every word they told her as if it were gospel. Well, this is where that stupidity had led her. She was seeing the world now right enough, from the back of beyond, and it was nothing like so glamorous and exciting as she’d imagined it would be.
 

If she’d possessed any money at all, she would have got back on that train and returned home to England at once. But since she scarcely had a penny or a cent to her name, nowhere enough to buy a passage home, she must grit her teeth and make the best of things. Here she was, in America, the land of the free, and here she must stay.

She wiped away her tears with the flat of both hands, ducked her head under the water and washed herself clean all over.

Once she was dry and dressed in her prettiest frock, she began to feel better. It was bound to feel strange at first, as if she didn’t belong, but there was no reason to suppose things wouldn’t improve. And hadn’t she always longed for an adventure? Well this was her big chance, so she’d best make the most of it.

Despite such brave thoughts, Bette took a long time getting ready, drying and brushing out her hair before coiling it tidily in loops on top of her head, putting on her brightest lipstick. She was so nervous she might have skipped supper altogether, had she not been so ravenously hungry. She’d had precious little to eat yesterday on the train, owing to her reluctance to spend her last few dimes, and even less today. But tempting as it might be to hide in the bedroom out of pure cowardice, such behaviour would not endear her to her future in-laws, nor would it fill an empty stomach.
 

Bette was also wise enough to realise that as a newcomer she was a novelty, but that would soon wear off. Once all the fuss had died down, the articles read and tossed aside, she’d be looked upon as a stranger here, an immigrant who would need to quickly learn a new way of life, different customs, manners and ways of doing things.

Sara had warned her of that too, had reminded her that she would be many thousands of miles from her own family and all the people who loved her. Only now did Bette truly understand what her sister had been trying to tell her.

Never had she felt more alone in all her life. She’d come to this unknown country to marry a man she hardly knew. What had she been thinking of?

Chapter Thirty-One

The boiler gave a funny sort of clank as Sara ran the hot tap and she took rather a longer time than usual to wash herself and comb her hair, and slip into the new nightgown; shy suddenly, now that the moment had come. And then she was lying beside him in the bed, as nervous as a young girl on her wedding night, except that she wasn’t a bride, and they weren’t married, at least not to each other. The sheets smelled slightly musty, as if they hadn’t been properly aired, and Sara worried that the bed might be damp and they’d both catch a chill.

‘Are you cold?’ Charlie put his arm about her, stroked her face, her bare arms, put his mouth to hers in the sweetest kiss. He admired her new nightdress, the pretty lace, the ribbon as he untied it and slid a hand over her breast. She wanted, oh how she wanted him. Her whole body cried out for surrender. The touch of his hands on her flesh was blissful, as if she had waited for this moment all her life.

‘I can’t do it.’

‘Sara . . .’

She was out of the bed in a flash, standing shivering in the darkness, tears stinging the backs of her eyes. ‘It’s no good, I do want you, I really do, but I can’t go through with this. It’s not that I love Hugh, it’s just that he’s my husband and . . .’

‘And I’m not.’

‘Yes. I’m sorry. Oh, God, I’m so desperately sorry.’ She was crying openly now and he was holding her, cradling her in his arms.

‘Don’t be. We’ve had a lovely day together. Let’s not spoil it with regrets. Get back into bed, love, you’re shivering. I’ll manage on the chair in the corner.’

‘Oh, Charlie, are you sure? I’m so s . . .’

He put one finger to her lips to stop the words. ‘I shall be fine with a pillow and a blanket. Tomorrow, I’m going to buy you a slap-up lunch in the best hotel I can find, then I’ll take you home. I love you, Sara, and always will. Perhaps we were wrong to try this but I don’t regret it, not for a moment, and nor must you. You are as you are, and I love you for it, for your sweetness and your integrity. Maybe one day things will be different for us. Our day will come, I’m sure of it.’

They travelled in separate compartments on the train journey home in case someone she knew was on the train. Unfortunately this gave her far too much time to think, depression descending upon her like a great black cloud.

Yet would she feel any better if she’d actually gone through with it, if she really had betrayed her husband? Poor Charlie had spent an uncomfortable night on that awful chair, though neither of them had slept much, just talked and talked until exhaustion had overcome them. But he’d made not one word of complaint and at breakfast they’d been forced to endure the disapproving sniffs and cold glances of their landlady, who’d counted them as guilty even when they weren’t.