Whisper on the Wind (67 page)

In only a minute Jonty was with her, gathering her to him, hushing her, calming her.

‘Now tell me,’ he said softly. ‘Take a deep breath and tell me again. You’ve got to be wrong, sweetheart. Your gran couldn’t have had –’

‘She
did
! Read that page! That was why she only had my mother, why they didn’t try again for a boy because women pass it on – mother to son. Why did my mother have me? She must have known about it. And why didn’t Gran tell me? It isn’t something you can keep quiet; sweep under the hearth-rug. She knew I wanted to get married. She talked about it to Polly and told her she was going to let me. So why didn’t she tell me then – warn me?’

‘Roz, love – by that time it wouldn’t have made any difference, would it?’

‘All right. So we’d already jumped the gun – is that what you mean? But why didn’t she warn me sooner? She
should
have told me. And, Jonty – don’t tell Grace and Mat, just yet? When they ask why I wanted you to come over, can you tell them it was – was –’

‘No need to tell them anything. They’re both at church. They don’t know I’m here. Look, Roz – come back to Home Farm – have Sunday dinner with us? You mustn’t be alone.’

‘Thanks, but no. They’d soon realize something was wrong. They’d be bound to ask me. Just give me time to get used to it?’

‘If that’s what you want – but you’re shaking and cold. Sit down and I’ll make you something hot to drink, then we can talk about what’s to be done. It’s what’s best for the baby that matters; not what’s best for you or what might have been or what should have been. And the first thing you must do is talk to Dr Stewart.’

‘What can he do? Tell me not to worry – that what’s done is done?’

‘No. He’s a decent sort and he wouldn’t tell you that. But he
will
know what to do. It can’t be all that long since he qualified; he’ll know all about the best treatment – all the latest research.’

‘But I don’t think there is any treatment for it. You just learn to live with it if you’re a man, and not get yourself hurt, or anything. And if you’re a woman, you don’t have children – or at least I
think
that’s what happens.’

‘But you
are
having a child, and you need help. You can’t face it alone. Won’t you think again about us getting married?’

‘No, Jonty. Now more than ever I can’t marry you. Just think of it – a child like that – like
mine
– being brought up on a farm? How often were we told – right from being young – what a dangerous place a farm can be? But you’re good and kind and thank you for coming when I needed you. Now that I’ve said it out loud it doesn’t seem quite so bad. Just promise not to tell anyone? Not your mother or father, nor Polly? Wait till I’ve told Kath and had a think about it? And I
will
talk to Dr Stewart – I’ll have to tell him – but not just yet.’

‘All right, then. But first we’ll have that drink, then this afternoon I’ll come over again and keep you company. How does that suit you?’

‘It suits me very nicely. And, Jonty?’ She held her forefinger to her lips, kissing it, placing it to his cheek. ‘Don’t fall in love with anyone else? Not just yet?’

‘Okay. Not just yet.’ He smiled.
Not ever, Roz. There’s only been you; there only ever will be.
‘If that’s what you want.’

‘Right now,’ she whispered, ‘it’s what I want.’

Kath walked slowly, carefully counting the doors as she went, wishing her best shoes didn’t make such a noise on the bareness of the floor; asking herself why her mouth was dry and her breathing uneven. Turn left at the top of the staircase, said the nurse she had met in the hall downstairs, then fourth door on the right, at the end of the corridor.

Now she stood, gazing at that door, wondering if she ought first to have spoken to Sister. But she wanted to get it over with and nothing anyone could have told her would make one iota of difference, now would it? Taking a deep breath she knocked on the door, hesitated, then pushed it open.

The room was very small, not a ward at all; furnished only with an iron bed, a locker and chair – a chair Barney was sitting in. Drawn across the window was a filmy curtain that shaded the room into half light which meant she couldn’t see his face properly – only the dark glasses he wore and the hospital-blue uniform that still didn’t suit him.

‘Barney? It’s Kath.’

‘Yes. I thought you’d be here today.’ He nodded toward the bed. ‘Sit down.’

‘I – I’m sorry.’ She eased herself on to the high bed. ‘I haven’t brought anything for you, I’m afraid, but there’s nothing in the shops, and –’

Her voice trailed away. She wanted to say something – anything – but her words sounded trembly and strange. ‘No cigarettes at all, only under the counter. It isn’t so easy to get them, now that I’m not living in the hostel …’

She ought to touch him, kiss him, but he’d told her to sit on the bed –
ordered
her to. There had been no mistaking the tone of his voice.

‘How are you, Barney? Were they good to you at Edinburgh?’

Say it! Ask it! Say, ‘Barney – is it all right, or haven’t they told you, either?’ But she didn’t ask because the man who sat opposite was still the stranger who’d come home to her and she didn’t know what to do.

‘I’m very well, Kath, and Edinburgh was fine. Wish I were still there. Nothing to do, here. Bloody boring …’

‘But you’ll feel better before so very much longer. And you’ll learn to do things again.’

‘Like driving a lorry and reading a book, things like that?’

His voice hurt her. If he hadn’t been blind she’d have told him not to be sarcastic – well, maybe she would have. But she must learn to make allowances for his swings of mood; try very hard to understand how it was for him in that strange, dark world of his.

‘Barney – please? Is there anything you want – anything I can do?’

‘Yes – there
is
something. Next time you come, don’t wear that uniform.’

‘Uniform? But how did you know? All right – so I didn’t tell you last time, but I didn’t want to upset you. But
how
?’

‘How did I know, you mean?’ She was adjusting to the dimness of the room, now, and she could see his face and the set of it. ‘Is it because it stinks of cows or do I know because I can
see
it?’

‘See? Oh, God, you can see! Why didn’t you tell me?’ She didn’t know if she were laughing or crying. A mixing of both, was it? ‘Barney! Tell me you can see!’

She dipped into her pocket for a handkerchief but her hands were shaking so much that she gave up and pulled her hand across her eyes instead. ‘Barney?’

She was on her knees beside his chair, touching his face, taking his hands in hers, but he pulled them away and the shock of his withdrawal hit her like a slap.

‘Barney, you
can
see. Say it! Say,
I can see
!’

‘I can see, Kath. Not properly, yet, but I
will
see. All the time, it’s getting better. By Christmas I should be due a spot of leave before I’m posted back to a regiment.’

‘I’m glad; so very glad!’ She covered her face with her hands and wept; on her knees she wept and silently thanked God. ‘Barney, it’s wonderful …’

She found her handkerchief and mopped her eyes then got slowly to her feet, taking a backward step to the bed again, because he hadn’t tried to touch her, nor hold her.

‘Wonderful, is it? That you won’t have the bother of a blind man? So you can go on doing what
you
want to do and to hell with what I want? Is that why you’re glad?’

‘No, Barney, no! I’m glad because it’s all over and you are going to see again. I’m sorry if I hurt you when I joined up without telling you – without
asking
you – but it isn’t really a uniform I’m wearing and I want to carry on being a landgirl, till the war is over.’

‘Then you can do what you damn-well like. It means nothing at all to me any more. You can carry on being the selfish, cold, uppity bitch I married. I’m sick of you. I want a divorce, and I want it not when you think it’s convenient and not when the war is over, either. I want it
now
!’

‘Barney?’ A
divorce
? But he
couldn’t
know! No one knew about Marco – certainly not Aunt Min! ‘Barney – look at me.’ He had turned in his chair so that his back was to her and he gazed steadily at the oblong of brighter light that was the window. ‘Say it again. I don’t understand.’

‘It’s simple enough. I told you I want a divorce,’ he said slowly, carefully.

‘But
how
?’ All right – so she’d heard him the first time – but who had told him? And what was there to tell –
really
to tell? Was merely wanting a man a sin? Did loving someone else make her a guilty woman? She eased herself off the bed and walked unsteadily to where he sat. ‘Tell me what I’ve done?’ she whispered. ‘I want to know.’

‘Done? You’ve done nothing and – oh – it just hasn’t worked out, Kath.’ His voice was gentler and for the first time he lifted his head and looked into her eyes. ‘We should never have got married, you and me.’

‘But we did marry, and now you want out of it. Why?’

‘Because – hell, Kath, it’s a mess, and if we try for a month of Sundays it’ll get no better. You were always so – so
distant
, yes, and stuck-up. Like those posh people you skivvied for. And cold, Kath. You were bloody awful to sleep with …’

‘And that’s grounds for divorce? Barney – you can’t get a divorce for that! There’s got to be something really serious, surely? Like cruelty or desertion or – or adultery and I haven’t done any of those things. All right – so I joined up without asking you – maybe what I did was selfish. Once, just once, I did what
I
wanted to do – I admit it. But you can’t divorce me for selfishness. A woman doing her bit for the war effort? You’d be laughed out of court!’

She took another long, shuddering breath, amazed at her eloquence, silently acknowledging that yes, she
had
wanted to be free – get a legal separation, even. But divorce her? Oh, no, he wasn’t going to make her admit to anything she hadn’t done; wasn’t going to have her branded a guilty woman, just because she’d been stuck-up and – and bloody awful in bed!

So she didn’t love him – she never truly had – but she wouldn’t give him grounds. Closing her eyes she leaned against the wall; her legs had gone peculiar all at once, and she didn’t believe any of it – she didn’t!

‘Kath – listen. Just
listen.
And for God’s sake sit down.’

He got to his feet and placed his hands on her shoulders, guided her to his chair. His touch made her instantly wary and her eyes flew wide open.

‘Sit down, will you, and stop flying off the handle. Nobody’s accusing you of anything.’ His voice was soft, now; coaxing, almost. ‘I don’t want to divorce you, girl. I want you to divorce
me.
’

‘For
what
?’ She didn’t believe any of this; not any of it.

‘I’ll give you grounds. I’ll give you it in writing so it’ll all be plain sailing for you. Adultery is grounds, isn’t it – so can we start again and talk this over like reasonable human beings?’

‘
Adultery
? Look – can we go outside, or something?’ She wanted to be out of this room, this half-dark, bare, awful little room. ‘Will they let you go out?’

‘Of course they will. As long as I tell the nurse at the door where I go, and don’t leave the grounds. And keep my eyes shaded.’

‘Can you see all right?’

‘Well enough. Just give me your arm down the stairs.’ He picked up his white stick. ‘And it won’t be long before I don’t need this thing. God, Kath – it was awful …’

‘Yes. Don’t think I didn’t care, because I did. It’s something that shouldn’t happen to any man.’ Why was she repeating words Marco had said? And where was Marco? Oh, dear, sweet heaven, where was he?

They walked along the path and across the lawn. She had set her mind on the seat farthest away – to walk there would give her time to pull herself together, tell herself that she wasn’t losing her reason. If she kept her head and got everything straight in her mind, then maybe – just maybe – they could work something out.

‘Adultery? Who with?’ she demanded the moment they reached the seat. ‘And when?’

‘Now hold your horses!’ He took out cigarettes and offered her one but she shook her head. ‘I’ve had advice. There was a bloke – in the Medical Corps – who told me all about it. I met him when I had that spell driving ambulances.’

‘So you discuss your private life – and mine, too – with a barrack room lawyer you hardly know?’ She’d got her second wind now, and dammit, she wasn’t going to let him walk all over her! ‘Well, thanks a lot, Barney!’

‘Now steady on. I got to know him very well. And he wasn’t a barrack room lawyer. He knew what he was on about. A proper solicitor’s clerk, in civvy street, and he told me how it’s done.

‘Some men only pretend at adultery, he said, to give their wives grounds; the man usually gives the woman grounds to divorce him – it’s the gentlemanly thing to do …’

‘I see. And how do people
pretend
at adultery?’

‘Dead easy. All they need, it seems, is some woman who’s willing to stay the night with the bloke in a hotel bedroom. Just be there, Kath – not do – well, you know …’