Whisper on the Wind (58 page)

‘Good. I hope she’ll be all right. Did Skip know?’

Kath shook her head, her eyes on her fingertips. ‘Juney said it was a blow-out; a tyre. It wasn’t Skip’s fault.’

‘No, Kath. He was the best. Nobody’s fault. Their luck ran out, that was all.’ She walked to the sink, her bare feet padding on the stone floor.

‘Roz! Where are your slippers? I’ll get them …’

She almost ran in her eagerness, was at the top of the stairs when the phone began ringing. She hesitated, then ran on into the bedroom, picking up the faded pink slippers, running downstairs again.

The phone was still ringing; Roz sat unmoving, staring at it.

‘Helpsley 181 …’

‘Hullo? Roz?’

‘No. But she’s here.’ A woman’s voice. Clear, but a long way off. ‘I’ll get her.’ She held out the receiver. ‘For you. Long distance, I think.’

Eyes wide with apprehension, Roz took it, murmuring her name.

‘Roz, it’s Pippa. Pippa Rennie.’

‘Pippa.’ She let go a little keening cry.

‘I’m sorry, Roz. The telegram came this morning. I’ve just got home – compassionate leave. But you’d know, Roz. You’d know before we did?’

‘Yes. It was last night. About eight o’clock. They were taking off …’

Her cheeks blazed red, now. Too red. Bright, unnatural spots of colour.

‘I had to talk to you, Roz. I loved him, too. And I promised I would – if anything ever happened …’

‘Paul asked you?’ She closed her eyes tightly. She felt sick, again. ‘It’s good to talk to you, Pippa. Sad it had to be like this.’ Her mouth had gone dry again and it was hard to speak. She turned, looked at the glass on the table and Kath understood, picked it up and held it out for her.

‘This hurts me, too, so I’ll say it quickly. Paul told me – on his last leave – that if anything ever happened I was to ring you. “Tell her,” he said, “that I love her. Tell her thank you from me, and say goodbye to her.”’ Her voice was little more than a whisper. Pippa. Paul’s twin. They had shared a birth, and all their youth. It had taken a war to part them. ‘And he did love you, Roz. There was only ever you. We told each other everything, and I was glad for you both. Thank you for loving him.’

‘Thank you for ringing, Pippa. It was kind of you, and brave. I don’t know what to say.’ The room was tilting again as it had done that morning. She grasped the dresser tightly.

‘Say you won’t forget him. And, Roz – it’s tomorrow, at three – the funeral. Think of me.’

‘I’ll think of you. I’ll think of your parents too. Goodbye, Pippa. And bless you.’

She made a moue with her lips, a silent kiss for Paul’s twin, then placed the receiver gently on its rest, making a little shrugging movement with her shoulders, letting go a small sigh.

‘You heard?’

‘Yes,’ Kath choked. ‘What did she say?’

‘Not a lot. Just goodbye, from Paul. Do you know, I tried to pretend there was still hope. Some small part of me could hope, I told myself, until something happened – something like now; like Paul’s sister, telling me goodbye. So that’s it, Kath. I’ve got to believe it, accept it, now. I’ve got to get on with it, Kath; do what Gran would have done. She got on with it. She lost her baby, her husband and her home – or most of it. And then she lost her daughter, my mother. But she kept on. She brought me up and she kept Ridings going – well, just about. And that’s what I must do. I’ll keep Ridings going. I’ll have to.’

‘No, Roz! You can’t make a religion of it.’ There were tears in Kath’s eyes; tears Roz should be shedding. ‘Your gran thought a lot about the old house because that was where she’d been happy. It was all that was left of her Martin – of course she clung to it.’

‘Yes, and she left it to me. I’ll work the land and I’ll make it pay its way; I have no choice.’ She lifted her head defiantly, her eyes shining unnaturally. ‘It isn’t a case of the Ridings past, the big house it once was, the way of life Polly remembers …’ The bright spots of colour were back in her cheeks. ‘You see, Kath, it all came clear when Pippa phoned, because really that call was from Paul. And it wasn’t a goodbye, either. A goodbye between us could never have been possible,
will
never be possible. Not now. I’ve got no time for tears, Kath. I’ve got to get on with life. It isn’t any use fooling myself. I won’t ever see Paul again.’ She smiled, briefly, sadly, then placed her hands gently on her abdomen. ‘But he hasn’t gone – not entirely, you see, because I’m pregnant.’

There was a silence, startled and stunned; no sound save the sharp inpulling of Kath’s breath. Then she let it go with a gasp of disbelief.

‘You – are –
what
?’

‘I’m going to have Paul’s baby.’

‘I know. I heard what you said. God, Roz,
why
? You said you’d talk to Paul about it.’ She jumped to her feet and began an agitated pacing of the floor. ‘But are you sure? Have you counted properly? It’s the shock of your gran. A day or two late – it’s neither here nor there. You’ll be all right. Shock does funny things …’ She was shaking. All over. Roz pregnant? Oh, please
no.

‘Stop prowling, Kath. And I’m not a day or two late. I’m over a
month
late.’

‘
Hell
!’ Kath threw up her hands then sat down heavily. ‘Oh – I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m saying, but what was Paul thinking about?’

‘Paul? Listen – it takes two people to make a baby and this baby is all I’ve got now. Be glad for me.’

‘Glad? Have you thought about the talk there’ll be in the village – yes, and Helpsley, too? What is Polly going to think, and Grace? And what about Jonty? Sooner or later they’ll all have to be told – and then what?’

‘Jonty? Y’know, I used to tell him everything once. He was my big brother …’

‘Well, he isn’t your big brother now. The man’s in love with you. It’ll be like a slap in the face when he finds out.’

‘Then he needn’t find out – not yet; no one need. I know there’ll be talk, sly digs and nods, there always is. They like their little bit of scandal in the village. It’ll set the tongues wagging, all right. Roz Fairchild getting herself into trouble – now fancy that! But at least Gran never knew, and while they’re gossiping about Tom they’re leaving Dick and Harry alone, I suppose.’

‘So you’ll brazen it out down in Alderby? Don’t you care at all, Roz?’ The pacing began again.

‘Of course I care. I’ve been worried sick, if you must know.’

‘Then why didn’t you bring Paul home sooner, like I said? You could have been married by now if you had. Paul should have insisted, once he knew.’

‘I see. Marriage would have made it all right, would it?’

‘The baby would’ve been all right. At least marriage would have made it legitimate.’

‘Yes – well, I’m going to have to learn to live with an illegitimate child, aren’t I? And shall I tell you something, Kath? That’s the first and last time it’s going to be called that. If there’s any fault it’s mine, not the baby’s. And Paul couldn’t insist, because he didn’t know. I didn’t tell him because I didn’t want him worrying about it when he was flying. Skip worried about Julia, so I made up my mind not to say anything till the tour was finished or maybe, if – if there’d been a wedding, I’d have told Paul then. He’d have been glad about it, though. He wanted us to have children. We talked about it the other night and I almost told him. I wish, now, that I had.’

‘Oh, Roz – let’s have a cup of tea, dammit.’

‘You have one. Water for me. Tea makes me sick.’

Sick, Kath thought dully. Why hadn’t she realized? Roz, not wanting to eat; throwing down her cigarette, saying it tasted awful, looking pinched and pale with black smudges under her eyes. Like an idiot she’d thought she was worrying only about Paul.

‘Roz love – why didn’t you tell me sooner – share the worry?’

‘Before I’d told Paul?’

‘Okay. Point taken. But you’d better be seeing a doctor. You should be thinking about getting your green ration book.’

‘A green ration book! Once you’ve got one of those you might as well tell it to the town crier.’

‘But you need the extra food.’ The special green ration book, giveaway though it might be, provided extra milk and the vitamin pills and orange juice an expectant mother needed. ‘And if you’re pregnant you don’t have to queue.’ A pregnant woman need only show her green book, then walk to the head of any food queue without protest.

‘Kath, love, don’t go on about it.’ She felt sick and floaty again as though making her brave, defiant statement had exhausted her. ‘I feel lost and alone and I’m trying to keep myself in check. I’ve lost Paul; I don’t want to lose the baby, too. I’ve
got
to keep calm.’

‘I know. But it was such a shock.’

‘It was a shock to me, too, but I’ve had time to get used to it. I just wish I’d told Paul.’

‘Perhaps he does know.’

‘Perhaps.’

‘So what’s to be done about work, Roz? You shouldn’t do anything heavy, you know. No more lifting sacks or heaving milk crates; you realize that, don’t you?’

‘Yes – but how will I manage without them knowing at Home Farm, then?’

‘I don’t know, but you will –
we
will. I’ll be there to see you don’t do anything stupid and we’ll have to take things as they come. But right now the Warden’s expecting me at Peacock for my ration book. You’ll be all right for a couple of hours, won’t you?’

‘I’ll be fine.’

‘And you won’t go breaking down or doing anything stupid? Promise?’

‘Promise. I might even heat up some of Grace’s soup and see if it stays down. Off you go.’

‘Oh, lovey …’ Suddenly it was all too much and gathering Roz to her Kath held her tightly. ‘Try not to worry too much? We’ll manage, between us.’ She dashed away her tears with the back of her hand, sniffing inelegantly. ‘And we’ll love that little baby a million, won’t we?’

She ran from the house, slamming the door, choking back sobs. Only a week ago they’d all been so happy. A week ago they had laughed and danced at Peddlesbury as though their luck would never run out. Yet now it was a part of another world, another life. And they had brought it upon themselves. They’d been too happy, and it didn’t do. Not when there was a war on.

She pedalled furiously down the lane, past the Black Horse, wondering if there would be another letter waiting and how long it would be before Barney came home. A hospital ship from Egypt had to sail home by way of South Africa, now; the long way round, it had come to be called. The Mediterranean was almost barred to Allied ships, German and Italian dive-bombers and warships had seen to that.

Italian bombers; enemy ships. Oh, Marco, what fools we are, you and I …

Kath wobbled past the Black Horse then took the back lane that led to the apple orchard and Ridings. She had tied a brown paper parcel to the back of her bicycle and in one hand she carried a carrier bag stuffed with clothes. It would need another trip to retrieve her suitcase and the remainder of her belongings, but at least they had sorted out her ration book. Tomorrow she could ride over to Helpsley and register her coupons with the grocer and butcher there. Better that way, the Warden had said; better, too, that she sleep at Ridings. Since the raid on York and the terrible damage caused by fire-bombs crashing through roofs, people had become anxious about attics. The Air Raid Precautions people had even gone so far as to insist they be emptied of everything. You couldn’t deal with an incendiary bomb in an attic full of junk, they reasoned, and soon it would be against the law even to sleep in one.

Strange, Kath pondered, how sometimes things turned out for the best. Roz needed her at Ridings and the Warden needed empty attics at Peacock Hey. Pity the rest of life couldn’t be that simple.

Then she stopped, smiling and suddenly happy, for there was Marco, herding pigs into the orchard. Mat had said they’d be turned out soon, to forage for themselves and eat the windfall apples. And to save precious pig-feed, too.

‘Hey, Marco!’ Kath felt a warmth inside her and a flaming in her cheeks, for every time she saw him the feeling of attraction was there. Marco Roselli was good to look at; lean to the point of thinness, yet his arms and shoulders were muscled, and brown from the sun. She knew how it was to feel those arms around her; how broad were his shoulders to lean on. She had never felt like this about any man and only now could she begin to understand the way it had been for Roz and Paul, the urgency of the need that throbbed between them. For that was the way she felt about Marco and no longer could the ring she wore make any difference.

‘Kat.’ He turned, then smiled – the smile she had come to love. ‘I am thinking about you and then you are there.’

‘I’ll be back at the farm tomorrow and maybe Roz, too. Best she doesn’t stay at home alone. We’ll see how she feels in the morning.’

‘How is she?’

‘Trying to be brave, poor love, but I’m worried about her. She ought to cry, but she won’t. It isn’t any use bottling it up.’

‘
Si.
But we accept our sorrows in different ways. For me, being a prisoner is to work, not to give in; for others it is acceptance and day after day living caged, like animals. Only Roz knows how to live out her sorrow. She will know when the time to accept it has come and then will be the time for tears. But I talk too much. I will help you home.’