Red Sky in the Morning (41 page)

‘I’ll not let you down, Grandpa,’ she whispered into the darkness as she lay in bed. ‘I’ll never sell your farm. Never.’

‘Bruce is coming home on leave next week,’ Douglas told Anna toward the end of June. Has he told you?’

‘No. He – he hasn’t written lately.’

Douglas frowned. ‘Not written? Well, I’ll have something to say about that when I see him.’ He patted Anna’s shoulder. ‘Don’t worry, love. You know what young
fellers are. I expect he’s not much of a letter writer.’ He gave a bellowing guffaw. ‘Takes after his dad.’

Anna smiled weakly.

‘Tell you what,’ Douglas said, ‘instead of you coming into town, we’ll all come out here. Make a nice change, wouldn’t it, May, to have a weekend in the
country?’

‘Whatever you say, dear.’

Anna glanced at her mother, but May avoided meeting her daughter’s eyes. Anna made up her mind to try to speak to her mother alone. There was something different about May. She looked on
edge, nervous and agitated, and every time Douglas spoke to her she seemed to jump. She was wearing more make-up than usual, Anna noticed, the powder plastered thickly onto her cheeks. May had
always spurned artificial aids, Anna thought, remembering how proud her mother had been of her smooth, flawless skin. A good face cream and a touch of pale pink lipstick was all she’d ever
needed had been her proud boast. But now the make-up was thick and poorly applied. And, Anna noticed, May’s thumbnail was bitten down to the quick. But during the day Douglas never left
May’s side and Anna had no chance to speak to her mother alone. As the car sped away that evening, Anna had the irrational feeling that Douglas had stayed close to May deliberately. He had
been his usual charming and attentive self, but there was something more. Something that Anna could not quite put her finger on . . .

On the following Friday Anna threw open the windows in the room that had once been her grandparent’s bedroom and also in the tiny spare room.

‘He can sleep here,’ she muttered. ‘He’s not getting into my bed, whatever he thinks.’

She put fresh linen on the beds and a posy of flowers in the main room to greet her mother.

‘Is
he
coming?’ Jed asked morosely as he ate his ploughman’s lunch sitting at the scrubbed table in Anna’s kitchen. His eyes followed her busy movements between
table and range as she prepared a special evening meal.

‘Who?’ She looked up, startled.

‘Him? Bruce whatever-his-name-is?’

Anna tried to hide her smile, but unsuccessfully. It sounded for all the world as if Jed was jealous. ‘He’s on leave, but they’re all coming.’ She giggled. ‘My
reputation will be quite safe.’

Jed glowered at her and bit deeply into his bread and cheese.

A few moments’ uncomfortable silence went by before Jed blurted out, ‘Are you serious about him?’

It was on the tip of her tongue to say, ‘What’s it to do with you?’ but something in his tone stopped her. They’d been friends ever since the day her grandfather had
introduced him to her when she had come to live on the farm with her mother at the beginning of the war. Lately their easy friendship had been strained, but now he sounded like the old Jed.

She sighed and sat down opposite him. ‘To tell you the truth, Jed, I don’t know. Not now. A while back, I would have said “yes” straight away, but now—’

Jed’s tone became gentle as if he sensed her dilemma and really wanted to help. ‘I’m always here if you want to talk about it.’

Anna felt a lump in her throat. ‘Thanks,’ she said huskily. There was silence between them once more, but now it was a companionable one. ‘Have you got a girlfriend,
Jed?’

‘Oh, dozens of ’em,’ he said airily. ‘They’re queuing up, y’know.’

Anna laughed. ‘I can believe that.’

Jed’s smile faded as he regarded her seriously. ‘I was only joking. No, Anna, there’s no one.’ As she met his steady gaze across the table, Anna felt a shiver run through
her. She was not so naive now that she didn’t recognize the look in his dark eyes.

She had not been mistaken earlier. It had most definitely been jealousy in Jed’s tone when he had spoken of Bruce.

‘Here we are then,’ Douglas boomed as he offered his hand to May to help her from the car. Anna hurried forward. She glanced briefly at Bruce as he sprang from the
back seat, but it was to her mother she went with her arms outstretched. She kissed May’s cheek and then stood back to look at her. May’s smile was tremulous and there was a wary look
in her eyes. She met Anna’s gaze and glanced towards her husband, then swiftly back to Anna. The girl had the strangest feeling that her mother was trying to tell her something. Trying to
warn her, almost.

Anna linked her arm through May’s and drew her towards the house, promising herself that during this weekend she would definitely get her mother on her own and find out what was troubling
her. Because she was sure now that something was bothering May.

‘Hey, don’t I even get a kiss after all this time?’ Bruce spread his arms wide.

‘Later,’ she teased, forcing a gaiety that she wasn’t feeling, ‘when there’s not so many people about.’

She was uncomfortably aware that not only were her mother and Douglas there to see, but that Jed was watching from the cowhouse door.

‘I’ll look forward to it.’ Bruce pretended to leer.

‘Come along in,’ Anna chattered brightly, trying to hide her disquiet. ‘I’ve cooked you a meal and we’ll have it in the front room as a special treat. I’ve
even lit a fire. It’s still cold in the evenings, isn’t it, even though it’s June?’

The two men were not following them into the house but had remained standing by the car. Douglas was gesticulating and almost shaking his fist in Bruce’s face. A few fractured words and
partial sentences drifted across the yard to her, but made no sense.

‘. . . all this . . . make her . . . just do it . . . think of . . . I’ll take care . . . as I say . . .’

But Anna’s mind was on her mother so she paid no heed to whatever the argument was between father and son. As she drew her mother into the kitchen, she asked quickly, ‘Are you all
right, Mam? You don’t look – well.’

May glanced nervously through the kitchen window, but already Douglas was moving towards the back door. ‘I’ll tell you sometime. Not now.’ Suddenly she gripped Anna’s
hands and whispered urgently, ‘Be careful, Anna, oh, do be careful . . .’ May’s voice faded away as Douglas came into the kitchen, rubbing his hands together and moving towards
the table laden with roast leg of lamb, fresh mint sauce and steaming vegetables.

‘Now, isn’t that a welcome sight? Beats life in barracks any day, doesn’t it, boy? The sooner you get yourself demobbed and back here the better.’ He turned and winked at
Anna. ‘You’ve got everything very nice, love, and this dinner looks a treat.’

There was a tense atmosphere around the dining table with only Douglas keeping up a hearty attempt at conversation.

Bruce kept his head down, almost shovelling the food into his mouth.

‘Where’s your manners, boy?’ Douglas berated him. ‘You’ve not been brought up to eat like a pig. Is that what they teach you in the army?’

May picked at her main course and refused the pudding. As she rose at the end of the meal to help Anna clear away, Douglas’s hand shot out. ‘Let the youngsters do that. Let’s
you and me go for a little walk in the moonlight, eh?’

May bit her lip, glanced anxiously towards Anna, but said meekly, ‘I’ll get my coat.’

‘And you, m’lad’ – Douglas jabbed his finger towards Bruce – ‘can stay and help Anna with all this washing up.’ Then he bent towards his son and mumbled
something close to his ear that Anna couldn’t catch.

As they worked together side by side in the scullery, Bruce said, ‘I’m sorry I haven’t written.’ He sounded so genuinely contrite that Anna glanced over her shoulder as
she stood at the sink, her hands deep in the washing-up water. He looked like a naughty little boy who had been caught scrumping apples. She smiled. ‘Me too. I – I didn’t know
what to say after – last time.’

Bruce flung down the tea towel and, standing behind her, he put his arms about her and nuzzled her neck. ‘I know. I’m sorry. Am I forgiven?’

She felt the familiar thrill of excitement surge through her as she turned and put her hands about his neck, oblivious to the fact that she was dripping soapsuds onto the back of his
uniform.

‘Of course,’ she said huskily.

His mouth came down hard upon hers, so hard that it bruised her lips. ‘I want you, Anna. Oh, how I want you.’

When her mother and Douglas returned from their walk, Anna and Bruce were sitting before the dying embers of the front-room fire, with Buster lying on the hearth rug between
them. As May and Douglas came in, the dog raised his head and gave a low growl. Sitting beside him, Anna stroked his silky head soothingly and shushed him.

‘Look at this pair of lovebirds,’ Douglas laughed. ‘Sitting here in the dark. They’ve been too busy to light the lamp.’ He chuckled suggestively.

‘I’ll do it,’ May said and reached up to lift down the lamp that hung from a hook in the ceiling.

‘Leave it, love,’ Douglas said, giving an exaggerated yawn. ‘I don’t know about you, but I’m for bed anyway. Must be the country air. Night, you two. Come along,
May.’ As if confident of her immediate obedience, he turned and left the room. May hesitated, glancing meaningfully at her daughter. Anna scrambled up from the hearthrug.

‘Do you want some cocoa, Mam? I’ll make some.’

‘No—’ May began and then changed her mind. ‘Yes. That would be nice, dear. ‘I’ll – er – come and help you.’

As they passed through the narrow hallway towards the kitchen, they heard Douglas shouting from the top of the stairs. ‘May? Are you coming, May?’

‘We’re just going to make some cocoa. I’ll – I’ll bring you some up.’

‘Never mind about cocoa, May. Come on up to bed.’ There was a slight pause. ‘Now!’

Anna gasped and opened her mouth, but her mother put her fingers to her lips and whispered, ‘Don’t say anything, Anna. Please. I must go. We’ll talk tomorrow.’ Hurriedly,
she kissed her daughter’s cheek and turned towards the stairs, calling, ‘Just coming, dear.’

Anna returned to the front room, concerned for her mother.

‘I thought you’d gone to make cocoa,’ Bruce said.

‘What? Oh, sorry. Mam changed her mind. She’s gone up. Do you want some?’

‘No.’ Bruce grinned and got up, moving towards a cupboard in the sideboard. ‘I’d like something a bit stronger. Now – ’ he was bending down opening the door
of the sideboard – ‘if I remember rightly, the old man kept a bottle of whisky somewhere in here. Ah yes.’ He lifted out a bottle triumphantly. ‘Here it is.’ Then he
reached for two of her grandmother’s best cut-glass tumblers from the shelf above the sideboard. ‘Want some?’

‘No, thanks.’ Anna gave a shudder. ‘I don’t like the stuff.’

‘How do you know? I bet you’ve never tried it.’

‘I have,’ she said, with a wry smile. ‘When I was quite little I drank some from that very cupboard and made myself terribly sick. I can’t even bear the smell of
it.’

Bruce laughed as he poured himself a generous measure. ‘Come on, try a bit. You might like it now you’re grown up.’

‘No, thanks.’

She sat close to Bruce on the sofa, resting her head against his shoulder whilst he drank. ‘Mind you, I’d have preferred a beer. Have you got any?’

‘No. I never thought. Sorry.’

‘Well, just mind you get some for next time I’m home on leave.’ He tweaked her nose playfully and she laughed.

There was silence between them as Bruce seemed to concentrate more and more on drinking. He had refilled his glass three times when Anna said, ‘I’m going to bed.’

Eyes half closed, Bruce took another swallow and nodded.

‘Night, then,’ she said. ‘Come on, Buster. Let’s put you out and lock up.’

The dog rose obediently, but followed her with his tail between his legs. At the back door, he refused to go outside. Anna laughed. ‘I’ve spoiled you, haven’t I? Letting you
sleep on my bedroom floor when no one else is here.’

The dog gave a knowing bark, as if he knew exactly what she was saying and then, to prove it, he turned and scampered towards the stairs, bounding up them and into her bedroom. Anna gave in,
hoping that her mother wouldn’t find out. Besides, it would create far more commotion to try to drag the dog down the stairs again than to let him stay.

Anna was just drifting off to sleep when she heard Buster’s low growl. She sat up in bed and heard the familiar squeak of the doorknob. The door opened slowly and Buster’s growl grew
louder. The door stopped moving, as if whoever it was coming in, had heard the dog and had hesitated.

Anna’s heart was thumping. ‘Who is it?’

She heard the door click shut and soft footsteps going along the landing towards the tiny spare bedroom. She knew it had been Bruce coming to say goodnight.

She snuggled down, smiling to herself. Tomorrow night she would make sure that Buster slept in her room again.

‘Good boy,’ she whispered into the darkness and heard his soft, answering whine.

The morning milking had been done and the breakfast laid by the time that any of her bleary-eyed guests appeared.

‘Oh, pour us a strong cuppa, Anna love,’ Bruce said, sitting down at the kitchen table and dropping his aching head into his hands.

Jed, sitting on the opposite side of the table eating his breakfast, eyed him disgustedly.

‘And you can take that look off your face, mate. Ain’t you ever had a skinful?’

‘Oh aye, more ’n once,’ Jed said airily, ‘but I can hold me liquor. Thought you army wallahs could an’ all.’

‘I could drink you under the table any day,’ Bruce sneered.

‘Betcha,’ Jed muttered, through a mouthful of egg and bacon.

‘Right, you’re on. Tonight, down the pub.’

Jed’s eyes sparkled as he nodded. ‘Betcha ten bob I’m the one carrying you home.’

‘You’re on.’

Anna banged the cup and saucer down on the table in front of Bruce. ‘Haven’t you both got summat better to do with your money than drink yourself senseless and then lose ten bob into
the bargain?’