Under the Apple Tree (57 page)

more, not in the same way. You’re just a nuisance.’

There was a long silence. Chris looked at her as if he

didn’t know what to do next. After a while, he said in a low

voice, ‘I care, Judy. I care a lot. I’d like to look after you, and I wouldn’t leave you out of things.’

‘You wouldn’t be able to help it,’ she said. ‘Look at the

Suttons - they’re really kind, but they can’t help leaving me

out. They’ve got things to talk about - the farm, the war,

village things - they can’t just look at me all the time they’re talking. It’s the same with everyone. I don’t mean they don’t

care,’ she added, frowning as she tried to explain. ‘I don’t

mean they’re deliberately unkind. But they just can’t do it.

Nobody can. It’s just too difficult.’

Again, they were silent. Then Chris said, ‘But won’t you

let me try, Judy? Won’t you at least let me try? May I come

and see you sometimes - take you out? We could learn the

sign language - we could talk then.’

Judy hesitated. She looked at the fair, open face, the

anxious blue eyes, the mouth that could curl so easily into a

grin, the lips that had kissed hers. For a moment, she longed

to say yes, to see the face light up with joy, the eyes dance,

the mouth break into a laugh. She yearned to be in his arms

and to be kissed again as he had kissed her in the lift.

She took a deep breath and then shook her head.

‘No. Please, Chris, don’t ask me. I can’t see anyone, not in

that way. It’s too hard. All the repeating and the writing

down and the misunderstandings and the worry of it all. I

can’t do it. I just can’t.’ She pulled away and began to walk

quickly along the lane. ‘I’m sorry, Chris. I’m sorry we ever

met. I’m sorry we agreed to have a date. I’m sorry you’ve

come all this way. Please - just go away now. Forget me.

There are plenty of other girls — girls who can hear what you

say. Go and ask one of them out.’ She was aware that he was

close behind her and turned swiftly to face him. ‘Go away, Chris,’ she said, and pointed down the embankment towards the railway line. ‘Look. There’s a train “coming - you can

catch it now and go back to Portsmouth and forget you ever

saw me. Go on. Go away.”

He stood his ground. ‘Tell me that’s what you want me to

do,’ he said and then shouted at her in his frustration. ‘Tell

me! Tell me you want me to go away!’

Judy’s eyes filled with tears. She looked into his face and

said, ‘There, you see? That’s what it’s like. That’s what it would be like.’ And then she turned and walked away from him.

This time, Chris did not follow her. He knew there was

nothing more he could say. Burning with shame, his head

bowed, he walked back to the station where the train was

just pulling in. The station master stared at him.

‘Quick visit,’ he said. ‘Didn’t she want you, then?’

Chris gave him a furious glare and climbed aboard the

train without answering. He dropped into the seat and gazed

morosely out of the window. As the train pulled out of the

station, he could just see the lane and there, between the

froth of Queen Anne’s Lace, the figure of a young woman

walking slowly and doggedly up the sloping lane in the opposite direction.

Chris stared at her, willing her to turn. If she does, he

thought, I’ll get off the train at the next station and come

straight back. And this time I won’t take no for an answer.

But Judy did not turn. Not until the train was almost out

of sight and Chris had given up and slumped back into the

seat. At just that moment, as she came to the crest of the

slope, she paused and looked back and, as the train

disappeared round a bend and into a wood, she lifted her

hand and waved, even though her eyes were too full of tears

Chapter Thirty Joe came straight out to the Royal Beach to meet Polly from

work. She walked down the steps to see him standing on the

other side of the road, near the entrance to South Parade

Pier, and she paused for a moment, her heart skipping a

little. He was leaning on the railing, staring out to sea, and

she had a moment or two to observe him. She came slowly

down to the pavement.

There was nothing special about him, she though

nothing at all. He was just an ordinary man, a friend, con

to see her and take her for a cup of tea. Nothing more than

that. He was certainly not in the least like Johnny, the

laughing young sailor who had swept her off her feet and

married her and promised to spend the rest of his life with

her. He wasn’t tall or handsome, he probably wasn’t all that

clever - but then, neither was she. I don’t know what I’d do

with a man who was clever, she thought.

And yet — there was something about him that quickened

her heart. Something that reached out to her, something to

which she responded. And when he turned and saw her

standing there, the way his face lit up told her that he felt it too. And that what they shared - or could share - was not at

all ordinary.

‘Polly!’ He crossed the road swiftly, limping a little, and

she ran towards him. They met in the middle and hesitated,

neither knowing quite which way to go next. A trolley-bus

coming towards them sounded its horn and Joe gripped her

arm and hurried her back to the pavement on the pier side,

and then they stood looking into each other’s eyes and laughing.

‘Blimey, I thought he was going to run us down!’ Joe

said. ‘I bet he felt like it, an’ all! How are you, Polly? It’s good to see you again, by golly it is.’

‘It’s good to see you too, Joe.’ She smiled at him, and saw

the warmth in his dark brown eyes. This is what’s special

about him, she thought. He’s so warm, so good-hearted.

You can see it in his face. It wraps itself around you, like a

lovely blanket. Impulsively, she put both hands on his

shoulders, stood on tiptoe and kissed him.

Joe looked startled and she saw his skin colour. ‘Blimey,

Poll, I didn’t expect that. That’s a real welcome, that is.

Thanks.’ He tucked her hand into his arm and turned to

walk her along the promenade. ‘Where’s a good place for

tea?’

‘There’s a cafe a bit further on.’ They strolled along the

top of the beach, arm in arm, lifting their faces to the

sunshine. Once again, Polly had that sensation of being at

home. ‘How long are you down here for, Joe?’

‘Just a day or two.’ He hesitated. ‘I’ve got summat to tell

you, Poll. That’s why I came. I wanted to see you - to tell

you face to face, like. Then I’m going on down to Devon to

see my boys.’

‘What?’ She stopped and looked at him, pierced by

sudden anxiety. ‘What is it? What’s happened?’

‘Don’t look like that, love. It’s nothing bad - at least, I

don’t think it is.’ He grinned at her. ‘But there’s summat I

want to ask you as well. I meant to leave it till later on, but now I’ve started I might as well come out with the lot.’

They stopped and she felt him take a deep breath. ‘D’you

reckon you could get a day or two off, Poll? I mean, right

now? Day after tomorrow, perhaps?’

‘A day or two off?’ she repeated in bewilderment. ‘I

might be able to. Now that all the new ration books have

been issued we’re not quite so pushed, though there’s

always a lot of work to do. But why? What do you want me to do? You’re not asking me to go to Devon with you, are

you?’

‘That’s right,’ he said. ‘I want you to meet my nippers. I:

want them to meet you.’ He sighed and rubbed a hand over

his face. ‘I’m doing this all the wrong way round Look,

what I want to tell you is, I’m being moved. My bloke, the

one I’ve been batman to, is going overseas with the

regiment, I can’t go - I’ve asked enough, I’ve told him a tin

foot’s as good as any other for polishing up his kit, and

better if it comes to being shot again - but it’s not on. So

I’m coming down to Pompey - well, Gosport really - to St

George’s Barracks. Looks like I’ll be there permanent. And

that mean’s we’ll be able to see a bit of each other. If that’s what you want,’ he added anxiously.

‘You’re coming down to Gosport? You’ll be just across

the harbour!’ A flicker of excitement ran through her. ‘Joe,

that’s lovely! Of course we’ll be able to see each other.

But—’

‘It’s more than that,’ he interrupted, taking her hands and

gripping them tightly. ‘See, it’s like this. I’ve never been

what they call a ladies’ man. Even when I was a youngster, I

was never one for clicking with the girls. I met my Rosie and

that was it, we both knew straight off we were right for each

other, and I never bothered with no one else.’ He looked

down into her eyes. ‘I felt the same when I first saw you,

Polly. That first time on the train, I felt it then. I didn’t

think it would ever come to anything, of course, ‘cause I

didn’t think I’d ever see you again. But I just knew that you

were someone I could get along with. I knew you could be

special.’

Polly stared at him. Her heart was beating fast. She

whispered, ‘I think I felt it too, Joe. But I couldn’t - it was too soon after Johnny.’

‘I know. And I hadn’t long lost my Rosie neither. It just

seemed too soon, like you say. But when we met again, well,

I reckoned maybe there was summat in it. Summat meant.

And then, when I come down and you were in all that

trouble, I thought, Better back off a bit, Joe Turner, she

don’t want you muddling things up. So that’s what I did. I

just wrote to you like a pal, just to try to keep the door open.

But now, seeing you again, I don’t reckon I want to back off

any more. And if I’m going to be down here permanent, I

want to know if you feel the same. If there’s any hope.

‘Cause I don’t think I could manage to see you regular just

as a friend. I know I’d want more than that, and if it’s never

going to be, well, we’d be better not to start. Sorry,’ he

finished, ‘I haven’t put any of that the way I wanted to, and

if you want to tell me to go to hell you’d better say so. I

know I’m not the bloke your hubby was, nor ever will be.’

‘No, you won’t,’ Polly said quietly, looking down at his

hands. ‘But you don’t have to be, Joe. You’re you - and

that’s all that matters now.’ She lifted her eyes. ‘I can’t say for sure what’s going to happen to us, but I’m willing to give

it a try. Can you take it like that, Joe? No promises - just

hope?’

‘Hope,’ he said, smiling at her. ‘I like that, Polly. Hope.

And will you come down with me to see the boys? It’s

important, see. They’re mine, and if I’m going to be seeing

someone regular …’

‘You might be putting someone else into their mother’s

place,’ Polly nodded. ‘It’s a test, isn’t it? If they don’t like me, or I don’t like them …’

‘I didn’t think of it like that,’ he said. ‘I just wanted you

to see them, and I wanted them to see you. It’s not a test.’

‘But you’ll feel better about it if we all like each other,’

Polly said. She thought for a moment, and then nodded. ‘All

right. I’ll ask the Mayoress tomorrow if I can have time off.

I’m sure it will be all right. And now,’ she looked at him

with a teasing smile, ‘what about that cup of tea you

promised me?’

‘Tea?’ he exclaimed, and she saw with a little leap of

delight that his face had suddenly lost its creases, the lines of worry had gone from his brow and he looked almost like a

boy again, the boy he had been when he first met his Rosie,

and as laughing and merry as Johnny had been when she

first knew him. ‘Tea? It’s not tea we oughter be having now

- it’s bloody champagne! Pardon my French,’ he added with

a guilty look, and Polly laughed and took his arm again,

leading him across the road.

‘Tea will do for now, Joe. And the way I’m feeling, I

think it will taste like champagne anyway. Oh Joe,’ she drew

him to a stop, right in the middle of the road, ‘I am glad we

met that day on the train!’

A honking noise made them both jump and they looked

round to see a trolley-bus approaching, its driver glaring

down at them. Joe pulled her quickly out of its way and they

scurried across to the pavement, almost convulsed with

giggles.

‘It was the same flipping driver!’ he panted as they

reached the kerb. ‘Blimey, he must think we’re a couple of

lunatics!’

‘I feel like one,’ Polly said, laughing up at him. ‘I don’t

know what it is about you, Joe, but when I’m with you,

that’s exactly how I feel!’

Jean was growing bigger and heavier by the day. She still

did as much as possible in the house, but Mrs Hazelwood

insisted that she rest. ‘Are you sure this baby’s not due until September?’ she asked worriedly, looking at Jean’s bulging

stomach. ‘You couldn’t have got your dates wrong?’

Jean shook her head. ‘It can’t be. It was just after

Christmas we -‘ she blushed ‘- well, it was only the once

anyway. I’ve never — it was the first time I ever …’

‘All right, Jean, I understand. But I think it would be a I

good idea to get the midwife in to have a look at you, just

the same. She’d be coming in a week or two anyway.’