Homecoming (5 page)

‘It was.'

‘Your wounds –'

‘Have healed.' There was a note in his voice that warned her not to probe further.

‘I'll make us something to eat.'

‘Do you mind if I have a bath first?'

‘No.' She jumped away from him. ‘There's towels in the bathroom.'

‘I saw them. You expecting a platoon?'

‘There's more in the airing cupboard if you need them,' she continued, undeterred, returning to the landing and opening both the airing cupboard and bathroom doors. ‘Soap, toothbrushes, toothpaste, shampoo, razor blades.' She slid back a mirror in the bathroom and revealed well-stocked shelves. ‘I bought you hair cream – I hope Brylcreem is all right – shaving soap and aftershave. I wasn't sure you'd still be using Old Spice.'

‘Helen.' He slipped his fingers beneath her chin and lifted her head, forcing her to look him in the eye. ‘It's perfect. Everything is absolutely perfect.'

‘I'll start running your bath.'

‘You don't need to do everything for me.'

‘Then I'll go downstairs and …' Ducking under his arm she almost ran away from him. Deciding she needed a little time to grow accustomed to the idea of him being in the house, he went into the bathroom and turned on the taps.

Robin pushed his shirt into his trousers, buckled his belt and pulled his zipper. ‘Fit for the pub.' He looked at Emily who was struggling to fasten her bra. ‘Here, you're hopeless.' Tugging her blouse free from her skirt, he slipped his hands beneath it and hooked it for her.

‘Thank you. Can we talk for a minute?'

‘In the pub.' He reached for his keys.

‘Please, Robin, here.'

‘It's bloody freezing.'

‘We need to set a date for the wedding.'

‘Not until everyone's stopped talking about your father.'

Knotting her hands together, she looked down at her lap. ‘That will be too late.' She paused before finally finding the courage to say what she had been trying to tell him for weeks. ‘I'm pregnant.'

He turned off the engine and stared at the sea. Dark, gleaming, a narrow silver path glittered to the horizon reflecting the light of the moon. ‘I don't understand … How can you be?'

‘We have sex every time we meet.'

‘I always use something.'

‘They're not infallible.'

‘I've been telling you to get a Dutch cap for years.'

She began to cry, great, fat tears that splashed on to her lap. She hadn't been able to predict how Robin would respond to her news, but the last thing she'd expected was this cold, controlled anger.

‘Are you absolutely sure?' he demanded harshly.

‘I've just missed my fourth period.'

‘That doesn't mean anything. All girls are irregular, the magazines say so.'

‘Not me.'

‘You've seen a doctor?'

‘No. How can I when my doctor knows I'm not married?'

‘Then it could be something else. The shock of your father, or your mother moving away – having to work long hours in that shop. That's it,' he cried fervently. ‘You're not used to working or standing on your feet all day.'

‘I don't think so. I've talked to some of the girls in work …'

‘You told them you're pregnant?' He was horrified at the thought of her discussing a possible pregnancy with a stranger, perhaps even mentioning his name.

‘Of course not. But they talk about having babies all the time and one of the older women said your breasts are tender for the first couple of months and mine are.'

‘I haven't noticed.'

‘There's no reason why you would. And I've been sick in the morning.' Her voice rose precariously. ‘Robin, I'm frightened. You will marry me, won't you?'

‘First we need to find out if you really are pregnant. I could get Pops –'

‘No, Robin, not your father. I'd die of embarrassment if he examined me.'

Robin hadn't been about to suggest any such thing, but his father was a doctor and if anyone would know how to get him out of a jam like this, it would be a doctor. Then he realised his father was the last person he could go to. He'd been advising him to break off with Emily for months.

He leaned forward over the steering wheel so Emily couldn't read the expression on his face. One thing was certain; on top of what had happened to her father, this would keep the Swansea scandal machine in juicy titbits for months. None of the Murton Davies's reputations had survived the ignominy of the court case. He could almost hear the Swansea matrons, his mother among them, rejoicing at yet another scandal that would prove the family weren't the crache they'd pretended to be.

‘Robin, please say something,' she begged in a small voice.

‘Like what?' he snarled.

‘That it will be all right,' she pleaded, needing to believe it.

‘Of course it will.' He dismissed brusquely. ‘Leave it to me.'

‘We'll get married –'

‘I said, I'll sort it, Ems.' He started the engine. ‘But for now, let's go to the pub.'

As soon as Helen heard the plug being pulled in the bath, she left the living room and went into the kitchen. The steaks were already in the pan; all she had to do was light the gas under them. The frozen peas were defrosted in water in a saucepan. The chips were peeled. It was time to heat the fat fryer. Or was it too soon?

Did Jack shave before or after a bath? Or did he need to shave at all? His cheek had felt smooth when he'd kissed her. She walked to the foot of the stairs and called, ‘Jack.' When there was no answer, she walked up the stairs.

The light was off in the bathroom but she could feel the air, hot, clammy and steamy, as it blasted through the open door on to the landing. She looked down the passage to their bedroom. It was in darkness.

‘Jack.' She switched on the light in the master bedroom. Too late she realised he'd opened the shutters and was standing, naked, in front of the window.

Chapter Three

‘That's the last of the kitchen things you brought from Helen's, washed and dried.' Sam strolled into the bedroom where Judy was busy sorting through her clothes.

‘And put away?'

‘I don't know where you want to keep them.' He sat on the edge of the bed, avoiding the underwear she'd stacked in neat piles on the eiderdown.

‘I would have thought that was obvious.'

‘Not to me,' he replied, disingenuously.

‘For pity's sake, the kitchen only has three cupboards.' She pulled out a drawer and dropped one of the piles of underwear into it.

‘Exactly.' He moved back as she swooped on a second pile. ‘I didn't know which one you wanted them in.'

‘This may sound astonishing but the china goes in the china cupboard, saucepans in the saucepan cupboard and food in the food cupboard. Why are men useless at all things domestic?' She picked up the last pile and dropped it into the bottom drawer of her dressing table.

‘We're not, just clever enough to recognise that women are better at running a home than us.'

‘More like clever enough to get most women to do everything for you. Well, I have news for you, Sam Davies. If you try using that ploy on me again, you'll find yourself getting enough practice to run a home more efficiently than any woman.'

‘I do my share,' he protested mildly.

‘That's debatable.' As she closed the last drawer with her hip, she allowed herself a small smile of satisfaction. All her clothes were away, her brushes, comb, scent and dusting powder neatly laid out on the dressing table, her make-up hidden out of sight in the top drawer, the bed made with fresh sheets and blankets …

‘Stop rushing around and sit down for a minute.' Sam patted the bed beside him.

‘I want to find a place for my record player and records in the living room.'

‘Find it tomorrow.' Reaching out, he grabbed her waist and pulled her down on top of him.

‘I'll scream.'

‘You do, and I won't get us fish and chips.' Pushing her back on to the bed, he slid his hand beneath her sweater and kissed her. ‘I'm going to like you having your own place.'

‘I have a flatmate,' she reminded, as his fingers closed around her bra cup.

‘She won't come into your bedroom, will she?' He kicked the door shut with the heel of his shoe.

‘Not unless she's invited.'

‘And as she's out …' He tried to lift her sweater over her head.

‘I'm hungry.' Pushing him aside, she pulled down her top, straightened her clothes and sat up.

‘Judy …'

‘I really am hungry,' she repeated, realising she'd annoyed him.

‘I offered to take you out for a meal.'

‘I'd rather eat in.'

‘All right, I can take a hint.' He tucked his shirt into his trousers as he left the bed. ‘But after we've eaten, we are going to do some serious talking.'

There was an odd look in his eye that perturbed her. ‘What about?' she asked warily.

‘I'm saying nothing beyond I'm reserving the right to choose the topic of conversation. Do you want hake or cod?'

*……*……*

‘Oh God, I'm sorry.' Acutely conscious of Jack's nakedness, Helen switched off the light.

‘I was admiring the view. I'd forgotten how spectacular it is. Join me.' He held out his hand.

‘I have to make the meal.' She stood transfixed in the doorway, shocked that Jack was making no attempt to cover himself. Didn't he realise there was enough light shining in from the landing for her to see him?

‘It's all right, Helen.' He spoke quietly, but there was suppressed mirth in his voice. ‘We are married and we have the certificate to prove it.'

‘I …' She stammered and backed away as he turned towards her.

‘You're shocked at my barrack room manners.'

‘No. I …'

‘I'm disturbing you.'

‘It's been a long time.' She crashed into the wall.

‘Long enough for you to forget our honeymoon – and before? Your father's sofa in your basement? All those baths we took together in the hotel in London?'

She shivered as he drew closer, then she saw the scars, a long one that began at the top of his thigh and snaked down past his knee, puckering his skin. And another that slashed diagonally across his abdomen. ‘When I got the telegram saying you'd been wounded, it didn't say your injuries were this serious.'

‘They're healed.'

‘They don't hurt?'

‘Not any more,' he said dismissively.

‘Jack …'

‘Forget about them, Helen. I have.' He reached out to her.

‘I know I'm being stupid, but I can't help feeling shy.'

‘You're not stupid and, if my memory serves correctly, you won't be shy for long once we get into that bed.'

‘You want to go to bed – now?' Her voice wavered at the thought.

‘Not if you don't.'

‘I … We haven't eaten, we …'

Folding his arms around her, he kissed her, slowly, tenderly, waiting for her to respond before pulling her even closer. As her fingers closed around his neck, he whispered, ‘I would undress you but I've lost touch with women's clothes.' He fingered her sack dress. ‘I wouldn't know how to get into that or you out of it.'

‘I'm glad to hear it,' she whispered.

‘There doesn't appear to be any fastening that I can see.'

‘It goes over my head.'

‘If you raise your arms, I'll pull it off.'

As she did as he suggested, he peeled it gently from her. ‘Now, this I do remember.' He slipped the straps of her petticoat over her shoulders. ‘And this.' Unclipping her bra, he dropped it to the floor before caressing her breasts. ‘You are beautiful, so beautiful I'm having trouble believing this isn't one of the dreams that has kept me going for the last two and half years.' Pulling the clips from her French pleat he ran his fingers through her thick blonde hair as it tumbled to her shoulders. ‘And thank you for not cutting this.'

‘You always liked it long.'

‘And loose.'

She shuddered as his hands moved lower.

‘Pretty panties and suspenders, are all your underclothes like this or did you buy them for me?'

‘I bought them especially for you,' she confessed.

‘I'll turn back the bed while you slip them off.'

‘More apple flan?' Lily picked up the cake knife.

‘No, thank you.' Martin sighed contentedly, pushing his chair back from the table. ‘That was a fantastic meal but I couldn't eat another thing.' He handed her his plate, as she cleared their dishes and stacked them on top of the cupboard next to the sink.

‘Just as well; I more or less promised Sam that he could have a slice tomorrow.' Covering the flan and cream dishes with greaseproof paper, she opened the fridge door and set them on a shelf.

‘You're too soft with him and Mike, they take advantage. ‘

‘I know, but he begged nicely. Do you want tea or coffee?'

‘Perhaps later.' Catching her hand he pulled her on to his lap. ‘But for the moment, I want to talk to my wife.' His grip tightened as she struggled.

‘We have been talking,' she laughed.

‘Only about my brother and Helen. I want to talk about us. Someone I know got a promotion today.'

She stopped fighting him. ‘You've been given the foreman's job?'

‘As of Monday, I will be a salaried not waged employee of Swansea Town Council.'

‘And you sat there for the last hour without saying a single solitary word?'

‘You didn't ask.'

‘I was afraid to. I knew how much you wanted it. You can be the most exasperating man when you want to, Martin Clay.'

‘But you love me,' he beamed.

‘Only sometimes. I don't know whether to kiss or hit you.'

‘I'd prefer the kiss.'

She linked her hands around his neck and kissed him, long and lovingly.

‘It might not make much difference to the money I'll be bringing home because there'll be no overtime payments,' he warned. ‘But it does mean a higher basic rate and more security.' His smiled broadened. ‘So, if you'd like to discuss that family you want …'

‘I want!'

‘All right, we want.' Releasing her, he grabbed the table to stop his chair from toppling over, as she flung her arms around his neck and kissed him again. ‘Given the way Sam and Mike treat all of this house as their own, I think we'd better continue this conversation in our bedroom,' he muttered, coming up for air.

‘You are serious?' she asked earnestly.

‘I've never been more serious in my life.' He brushed a tear from the corner of her eye with his thumb. ‘Hey, this is something to celebrate not cry about.'

‘I know. I'm just so happy …'

‘Surely you didn't believe that I hadn't noticed how broody you get around Billy, or seen the envious glances you've been sending my sister's way since she's expanded.'

‘I wasn't envious; I just wanted our own baby. I wonder what he'll be like.'

‘Or she. You do realise that you will have to give up work.'

‘Yes, but not until I begin to show.'

‘You won't miss the bank?'

‘A bit perhaps at first, but,' she hugged him again, ‘it will be wonderful to stay at home and look after the house, you and the baby, and in a year or two we'll have another one – won't we?' She gave him an anxious look.

‘How about we have them one at a time?'

‘But you do want more than one?'

‘I'll let you know after the first,' he hedged.

‘Auntie Norah and Uncle Roy were marvellous to me, but I always thought it would have been fantastic to have had an older brother or sister. That's the only thing I ever envied Katie and Helen. I'd hate for our baby to be an only child.'

‘He or she will be for a while.'

‘And afterwards?'

‘One step at a time, Mrs Clay.' He picked her up, swinging her high in his arms as he left the chair. She looked over his shoulder as he carried her out of the kitchen.

‘Wait, I haven't finished clearing the table.'

‘Is there anything that needs to go in the fridge?'

‘Move round and I'll tell you. No, there isn't.'

‘Then, as I have tomorrow off, I'll do it in the morning.'

‘I love you.'

‘You might not be saying that nine months from now. From what I've heard, women curse their husbands when they're in labour.'

‘I won't be one of them.' She almost blurted out the secret she'd been carrying for weeks but decided against it. Tomorrow would be soon enough and hopefully then he'd completely forgive her for not telling him that he was going to be a father and two and half months sooner than he thought possible.

‘Good fish and chips.' Sam set down his knife and fork.

‘Very.' Judy picked up their plates and carried them into the kitchen. ‘Do you want coffee?'

‘Please.' Sam left the table and sat in an easy chair and Judy put the kettle on to boil. She returned to the living room with a tray. ‘Cigarette?' he offered. Judy rarely smoked but Sam knew she occasionally enjoyed one after her evening meal.

‘Yes, please.'

He lit two and handed her one.

‘Thank you.' She set his cup of instant coffee on the tiled hearth next to him.

‘Ready for that talk?'

‘As I'll ever be, although I've a feeling that I'm not going to like what I'm about to hear.' She took the chair opposite his.

‘Most women can't wait to set the date of their wedding.'

‘Sam, I –'

‘Am – are – have been busy,' he derided. ‘You've been giving me that excuse for over eighteen months and I'm not prepared to listen any more.'

‘So, what do you expect me to do?'

He looked her in the eye. ‘Fix the date.'

‘I've just taken on a couple of good stylists. One has the makings of an excellent manager but she will need time to settle in. It will get easier, perhaps in a month or two …'

‘I won't be around in a month or two,' he said quietly.

‘I didn't know you were up for a transfer. You know there's no way that I can move out of Swansea.'

‘The only place I'll be going is away from you if you don't set a date,' he broke in brusquely.

Unnerved by the expression in his eyes, she studied her hands. There was a chip on her varnish and her nails needed filing. ‘I need more time.'

‘You've had all the time I'm prepared to give you, Judy.' He flicked the ash from his cigarette into an ashtray on the mantelpiece.

‘Can't we at least discuss this over the weekend?' she begged.

‘No.'

‘We could go into the bedroom …'

‘So you can wind me up and tease me like you did earlier?' He drew on his cigarette. ‘No, Judy, I've had enough of teasing and enough of waiting.'

‘You agreed that we shouldn't make love before we were married.'

‘I didn't think you were going for the longest engagement on record at the time.'

‘I hate ultimatums –'

‘And I love you, but I won't settle for this half life any longer,' he interrupted. ‘I'm earning good money. I could get a police house tomorrow. I want to get married and have children before I start drawing my old age pension.'

Her eyes blazed. ‘We're not even married and you're talking about having children. You never said –'

‘I never said, because it seemed more important to discuss setting a wedding date than to make a booking in a maternity clinic.' He looked at her over the rim of his coffee cup. ‘I take it from that outburst that you don't want any. No, don't tell me, I know – you haven't had time to think about it.'