The Swallow and the Hummingbird (5 page)

‘A bit late for that, isn’t it?’ he teased, slipping the final stocking over her foot. He stood up. Her face was so pink he took it in his hands and pressed his lips to it before pulling away and smiling at her affectionately. ‘Let’s go to our cave.’

They walked hand in hand down the path to the beach. The sun hung low in the western sky, reflecting copper in the rise and fall of the waves. Rita stopped talking as they landed on the sand, aware that she was only minutes from being alone with him once again in the secrecy of the cave. The sand felt wet and cold beneath her feet as the rough grains oozed between her toes with every step. When they reached the rocks, George swung her into his arms, lifting her over the little pools full of sea urchins and crabs where they had played as children and across the narrow strip of sand that was now under four inches of water. His boots weren’t impervious to water but he splashed through regardless and into the cave where the land rose enough to protect the sand at the back from the encroaching sea. There he put her down and, before she could utter a word, he was upon her, his mouth kissing hers deeply and urgently.

She closed her eyes and responded willingly, wrapping herself around him and kissing him back. How different it was from those teenage kisses. That had been the innocent exploration of children. Now George was a man. His face was rough and his touch firm and strong. She could feel the excitement straining his trousers as he pressed himself against her.

‘My God I want you,’ he breathed into her neck. ‘I’ve wanted you for so long.’

She was desperate to please him yet remembered her mother’s words. In spite of the many girls she knew who had eagerly given themselves to their men before they left for war, she had held back, saving herself for her wedding night. George had understood. He had never pressured her. But today she felt a desire far stronger than before and it frightened her.

His hand found her breast and he felt the nipple through the material with his thumb. His mouth was on her neck and the rough sensation of his stubble combined with the warm, wet feeling of his lips and tongue caused her whole body to tremble. She wound a leg around him and pulled him towards her with her knee, but he raised his hips to allow him room to run his hand up her calves and over her thigh. He looked into her eyes and she noticed that his were wild and feverish and unfamiliar. He remembered the French girls he had slept with after the liberation of Paris and yet none was as sweet as Rita or as pure. His lips found hers again and she lost herself momentarily until his fingers traced her inner thigh and then her knickers. She flinched and clamped her legs together.

‘I want to make love to you, Rita,’ he groaned. His brow was moist with sweat and his breath hot against her skin.

‘I want you too,’ she whispered. But she hesitated.

‘You’re going to marry me one day,’ he said, understanding her reticence. He pulled away and chuckled. ‘My darling Rita. I’ve never considered anyone else but you. You’re already my wife in my heart.’

‘And you’re my husband in mine. I’ve saved myself for you,’ she replied, remembering the glamorous American officers who had relentlessly courted her.

‘When we’re married I’m going to kiss you all over, every inch of you,’ he said and kissed her forehead, sighing heavily and reining in his ardour.

Rita wrapped her arms around him and nuzzled her face against his. She belonged to George as surely as she belonged to this small Devonshire village and, with that sense of security, she lost herself in his kisses, glad to have him home.

Chapter 3

When Rita arrived home her parents and sisters were in the kitchen with her grandmother who had changed into a long dress of deep purple over which she had draped a turquoise shawl. They all stopped talking as Rita appeared round the door. In spite of having scrambled back into her stockings and shoes, her hair was wild and her skin covered in a rash caused by George’s stubble.

‘Well, my dear,’ said Mrs Megalith with a sniff. ‘I needn’t ask if young George arrived back safely. Your face speaks volumes!’ Eddie grinned, noticing at once that one of the buttons on her sister’s dress was undone. Such a detail hadn’t escaped the scrutiny of their grandmother either. ‘Dear me, men are such animals. Surely he could have given vent to his lust on some random stray before mauling you.’

Rita followed the line of her gaze and her hand shot straight to the offending button. Maddie sat in silence, recognizing the glazed expression in her sister’s eyes because she had seen it in her own reflection after she had given herself to Hank Weston in the back of his jeep. Not even Megagran’s powers of clairvoyance had been able to detect that secret.

‘How is he?’ Hannah asked, ignoring her mother. ‘Dear child, you’re frozen. Where on earth have you been?’ She took Rita’s icy hands in her large warm ones and led her to the rocking chair. ‘Sit down and tell us all about it.’

‘We went for a walk along the beach,’ she replied dreamily, avoiding Eddie who stared at her in fascination. Surely they had made love.

‘Ah,’ Mrs Megalith snorted. ‘That would account for the hair, it looks as if a sea gull’s been in it.’

‘Did he kiss you lots and lots?’ Eddie asked.

‘Eddie, really, that’s not the thing to ask a young woman,’ her father chided. He was in his usual place at the head of the table, a glass of Scotch in his hand, watching the women in his family with amusement.

‘You don’t need to be clairvoyant to answer that question,’ said Mrs Megalith, but her face softened and she smiled. ‘There’s nothing better for the health than kissing. It’s a real tonic!’ She smacked her lips and limped over to the table. ‘Here, Edwina,’ she thrust her stick out for her granddaughter to take. ‘Now, pour me a sherry, dear girl, the excitement is wearing me out.’

‘I’m sorry I wasn’t around to do your hair,’ said Maddie apologetically.

‘Don’t worry. I barely had time to change.’

‘You should be grateful you didn’t waste your time, Madeleine,’ said Mrs Megalith, sitting back regally in her chair. ‘You should put it up like mine, Rita, that way you wouldn’t have to do it at all.’

‘Well, Rita?’ persisted her mother. ‘Do tell us from the beginning. You waited for him at the bus stop?’

‘Yes, with Trees and Faye and Alice and the children.’

‘I don’t imagine they all went to the beach with you,’ said Mrs Megalith wryly.

‘We went back to Lower Farm for tea and then George drove me home via the beach.’

‘Has he changed?’ Hannah asked.

‘He’s grown up. He’s definitely stronger physically.’

‘Oh, he would be, of course. He’ll be a man now.’

‘A summer wedding would be most welcome,’ said Mrs Megalith, taking the glass of sherry from Eddie. ‘You can have it in my garden.’ Rita was unable to conceal her excitement. Mrs Megalith raised her eyebrows and added exuberantly, ‘Good God, he’s proposed. About time too!’

‘Has he?’ Humphrey asked.

‘He’s proposed?’ Hannah exclaimed.

‘Not exactly,’ Rita replied carefully. ‘But he said we’ll marry soon.’

‘Words are cheap,’ said Mrs Megalith, knocking back her sherry.

‘Give him time, poor lad, he’s only just got back,’ Hannah interjected.

‘I think a quiet celebration is in order,’ said Humphrey happily. ‘Hannah, let’s open that bottle of wine we’ve been saving up.’

‘Oh, do let’s,’ she agreed, bustling over to the cupboard. ‘Maddie, hand out the glasses. Now where’s the corkscrew?’

Hannah had cooked a large shepherd’s pie, which she served with carrots and turnips from her vegetable garden. Rita soon warmed up although her feet remained as cold as a couple of frozen fish, reminding her of walking back up the beach with her toes in the sea. In fact, she could barely join in the conversation, so distracted was she by thoughts of their kisses in the cave.

‘Rita, come for tea tomorrow, I want to give you a reading,’ said Mrs Megalith darkly, watching her granddaughter with a perplexed look on her face.

Humphrey rolled his eyes. ‘Primrose, is it absolutely necessary?’ he asked, shaking his head and frowning with impatience. He didn’t want her frightening his daughter at this happy time.

‘Absolutely,’ she stated firmly. No one ever opposed Mrs Megalith.

‘I want one,’ chirped Eddie. ‘You never read cards for me.’

‘My dear child,’ replied her grandmother, ‘you’re too young to think about anything other than schoolwork. I don’t need to consult the Tarot to tell you that.’

‘But I might be about to die. You’d want to save me from death, wouldn’t you?’

Mrs Megalith dug her jaw into spongey chins. ‘Well of course I would, but the tarot has no death card, Eddie. That sort of thing comes to me in the form of intuition and I’m glad to say I’ve already looked into your future and am in no doubt that it’s going to be a long one — and a hot one!’ She grinned knowingly.

‘Well, I’m delighted by that,’ said Humphrey drily. ‘We wouldn’t want a funeral
and
a wedding, that would dampen everyone’s enjoyment.’

‘Really, Humphrey, sometimes your sense of humour is quite inappropriate,’ retorted Mrs Megalith.

‘Can I bring George?’ Rita asked.

‘No, you must come on your own. I want to talk to you in private.’

‘You haven’t seen something awful, have you?’ Rita was suddenly gripped with panic.

‘You see, Primrose, you’re filling the poor child’s head with unnecessary worry.’ Humphrey’s voice was crosser now.

‘It’s all right, Daddy,’ said Rita diplomatically.

‘Grandma wants to tell Rita about the birds and the bees,’ said Eddie with a giggle.

‘By the look in her eyes I think she knows enough about that already,’ said Mrs Megalith, draining her glass. Rita blushed and looked to her mother for support. ‘That really is very good wine, Humphrey.’

‘Yes, isn’t it?’ he agreed, holding up his glass. ‘It was water this morning.’

Hannah gasped and turned on him. ‘Humphrey!’

‘It’s even better if you dine on snails and spiders’ legs,’ he continued, chuckling.

Mrs Megalith’s mouth curled up at the corners and she looked down her nose at her son-in-law. ‘You may mock me, Humphrey Fairweather, but believe me when I say that I will have the last laugh.’ She turned to Rita. ‘Don’t blush, my dear, there’s no need. One should enjoy the attentions of a man without shame, after all it’s perfectly natural, isn’t it?’

Hannah tut-tutted and changed the subject. She knew her mother’s opinions and believed her an unhealthy role model for her impressionable daughters. She certainly wasn’t representative of her generation and Hannah was anxious for her to keep her dubious sexual history to herself.

Rita was tucked up in bed when Maddie knocked on the door. ‘Can I come in?’ she whispered, poking her head through the gap. When Rita nodded enthusiastically, Maddie walked in and sat on the end of the bed. ‘Was it wonderful?’

Rita smiled happily. ‘Oh Maddie, I’m so in love,’ she said, sitting up. ‘I only just managed to stop myself.’

‘What held you back?’

‘Well, you know. We’re not married.’

Maddie laughed. ‘For goodness’ sake, Rita, you’re not the Virgin Mary.’

‘But what if I get pregnant?’

‘You won’t if you use French letters. Or “rubbers” as Hank used to call them.’

Rita considered it for a moment then grimaced at the unromantic thought. She gazed at her sister longingly.

‘I so want to.’

Maddie suddenly looked guilty. ‘I have a confession to make,’ she began slowly. ‘I wasn’t going to tell you because I thought you’d disapprove.’

‘I’d never disapprove of you, Maddie.’

‘Well, I made love with Hank.’

‘You didn’t!’ Rita placed a trembling hand over her mouth.

‘I did! It was lovely,’ Maddie giggled. She was happy she could now talk about it with someone.

‘But where?’

‘In his jeep, at the Inn near Muddyhole. Goodness, that wasn’t a problem.’

‘Weren’t you worried you’d get caught?’

‘Not at all. Besides, it was worth it.’

Rita’s eyes were wide and shining. ‘But Megagran can see everything.’

‘Obviously not. Look, other girls do it all the time. We just happen to have a very old-fashioned mother. Nothing’s as sexy as wartime.’ Maddie grinned suggestively. She thought better of confessing about the others. Rita would have been appalled.

‘George looked so handsome in his uniform. He’s big and strong and manly. But I’m going to wait until our wedding night. We’re practically engaged, after all. It won’t be long.’

‘Don’t be a fool, Rita, he’ll lose interest in you unless you let him. There are plenty of girls around who won’t think twice about giving themselves to him and you wouldn’t want him running off with one of them, would you?’

‘Of course not!’ Rita was horrified. She swept a hand through her hair and swiftly changed the subject. ‘Are you sad that Hank’s gone back to America?’

‘Goodness no! It was fun and romantic but I’m too young to tie myself to one man. They’re all coming back now from the war, I want to keep my options open.’ Maddie had discovered the forbidden pleasures of the flesh and was keen to enjoy as much of them as she could.

The following morning George drew up in his father’s truck and leapt out in time for breakfast. It was Saturday so Humphrey was reading the papers as usual but wearing slacks and a sleeveless green sweater instead of his grey suit. Hannah was knitting in the rocking chair. She had knitted so much for the war effort that she now found herself unable to stop. She looked forward to knitting little bootees for a grandchild some day. Eddie was still in bed and Maddie was enjoying a long bath. Rita saw George from her bedroom window and hurriedly slipped into an old summer dress and blue cardigan for, although the weather was warm, it was windy by the sea. She wished she had something new to put on for him. She hadn’t had a new dress for years.

‘Good morning, Hannah, Humphrey,’ he said, smiling because he knew he had surprised them.

‘Good gracious, if it isn’t our own hero, George Bolton!’ Hannah exclaimed, putting down her knitting and getting up to embrace him. ‘Dear boy, what a lovely surprise. You look so well.’