Whisper on the Wind (74 page)

‘It is, Roz, and I’m going!’ Her chin tilted defiantly, though what she would do when she got to Kirk Sutton and how she would find him, was something best worried about later.

She cupped her blazing cheeks with trembling hands. Marco was only thirty miles away. He hadn’t been sent to Scotland or deepest Devon. He was nearer than she had ever dared hope.

She let go a deep, shuddering sigh. What a wonderful day this had turned out to be.

‘Kirk Sutton,’ Roz said from the kitchen floor on which she had spread the road-map, ‘seems to be at the end of a one-track lane somewhere off the Malton to Scarborough road. There.’ She pointed with her pencil. ‘You’ll be all right, I think, as far as Malton – you can get that far on the train. But after that, you’ll have to hitch a lift, or walk. Seems it’s right out in the wilds.’

‘I’ll make it,’ Kath muttered. If she had to walk every step of the way, she would get there.

‘Once you’ve found the village, you’ll have to ask where the farm is, though that shouldn’t attract much attention – a landgirl, I mean, looking for a farm.’

‘Yes, but had you thought, Roz, that my rest-day is Sunday, just as Marco’s will be. Even if I find the farm, he won’t be there. I’m going to have to do a swop again, if ever I’m to see him. Mat’s going to get fed up with all the chopping and changing – especially when we’ll soon be busy with the potato lifting.’

‘All right – so he might. But had
you
thought that you’ve already changed your day off to Wednesday next week. Forgotten your appointment at the solicitor’s, had you – oh, surely not?’

‘I had, Roz. And isn’t it great that it’s at ten – I can be on the train to Malton by midday, if I’m lucky.’

‘What do you mean,
if
you’re lucky? That gypsy must have taken a real shine to you, Kath Allen. Aren’t you thrilled, and excited?’

‘I – I suppose I am. I haven’t taken it in properly. But yes, I
am
happy and excited. In fact I’m so darn happy that I feel guilty. Well, I should, you know, when you’ve had such terrible things happen to you.’

‘Look, Kath – what Paul and I had was wonderful and I shall never forget him as long as I draw breath. But this world isn’t going to stop turning just because – because we aren’t together any more. I told you to go out and grab life by the throat, didn’t I? Don’t wait for tomorrow, because there are no tomorrows for people like us; not when there’s a war on. If it’s offered, you take it! Thank God
I
did!’

‘Bless you, love. I’m glad I came to Alderby. Just imagine – you and I might never have met,’ Kath whispered, tearfully.

‘And you’d never have met Marco, either. Life’s funny at times, isn’t it? Funny-peculiar, I mean …’

Life could indeed be peculiar, Kath thought, staring wide-eyed into the darkness, tossing and turning, wishing she could get down from the lovely pink cloud she was floating on, close her eyes, and sleep.

On Wednesday, in just four days’ time, she would see Marco – if her luck held, that was. They might even be able to talk – to touch, even, and kiss. Perhaps even say
Ti amo.

And I do love you, Marco Roselli. I can’t wait to tell you – oh,
everything
…

But if she couldn’t tell him her wonderful,
wonderful
news, then just to see him, and for him to see her, to know she had found him, would be all she would ask – well, for just a little while.

‘Right, lass, this is as far as I can take you.’ The milk-lorry pulled up with a rattle of churns. ‘Over there.’ He pointed. ‘Make for yon’ church spire and you’ll be at Kirk Sutton. Someone’ll tell you, then, where Glebelands Farm is.’

Kath jumped down, thanking the driver, waving as he pulled away. Just across the fields was the village she was looking for and perhaps Marco, too. Or she might find Jean Butterworth, who could tell her where he was, though probably she would run into the farmer himself who might just tell her to keep her socializing with his landgirl until after working hours!

But somewhere, soon, she would meet someone who would help her, she knew it; knew it from the dryness of her mouth, the giddy beating of every pulse in her body.

She climbed the fence and began to walk across a cow pasture where a herd of shorthorns grazed, tails flicking. Today was warm for early October and she loosened her tie and unfastened the top two buttons of her shirt. Smart this walking-out uniform might be; cool, it was not.

‘Hey, there! Looking for someone?’ Standing by the fence at the far end of the field was a tall, slim landgirl. ‘And I’d get a move on, if I were you. The bull’s in with the herd today.’

‘Oops!’ Kath quickened her step. Shorthorn bulls were known for their aggressiveness, but they rarely gave trouble when surrounded by a herd of cows – that, at least, being a landgirl had taught her.

‘Hullo.’ She smiled, holding out her hand. ‘I’m looking for Jean Butterworth. Do you know if she works around here?’

‘She does, and she’s me. And you are Kat – Kath Allen?’

‘It was
you
–’ Kath stopped, taking in the silver-blonde hair tucked up in a bright green snood; the smile, showing white, even teeth and eyes so blue you couldn’t help but notice them. Just for a moment she knew panic. Or was she plain, old-fashioned jealous that Marco knew so beautiful a woman? ‘– you who posted that letter for – for …’

‘For Marco Roselli? Yes, I did.’

‘Then thanks. Thanks a lot. But will you tell me why you did it? Oh, heaven only knows I’m grateful – but
why
?’

‘Why risk getting myself into trouble over a prisoner of war?’ She shrugged, then smiled, it’s because somewhere there are Italians who took a risk for my boyfriend. I owe them one, I suppose. My John is in the Navy, you see. His ship was torpedoed on the Malta convoys and he was taken to a prisoner of war camp near Naples. It wasn’t a lot of laughs, he said – that’s why I can sympathize with Marco, though I know I shouldn’t.’

‘So what happened?’

‘Well, John isn’t the sort to take it lying down. He got fed up with the whole set-up, so he escaped. And to cut a long story short, the Italian escape network helped him. They hid him until they could get him on a neutral ship bound for Gibraltar. Seems not all Italians like Mussolini. I think those Partisans who helped John were Communists, though he never quite found out. But I’m not complaining. He’s back home and we’re getting married on his next leave, so I don’t mind doing Marco the odd favour.’

Relief washed over Kath. The beautiful Jean was engaged to a sailor, thanks be!

‘Then I hope it won’t be too long before you’re applying for your marriage leave. Do you know where Marco is working today? Is there any way I can talk to him, without being seen? All right – so I shouldn’t be here –’ She stopped, lifting her shoulders, all at once embarrassed.

‘Shouldn’t be fratting with the enemy, you mean? Listen, Kathleen, what you and Marco do is your own business. And I don’t mind posting letters for him – or having you send his to me. I’ll see he gets them. As I said – those Partisans were good to John. And you needn’t worry about being seen. In fact, you couldn’t have picked a better day. There’s a big farm sale on this afternoon and just about everybody around is there – except Marco and me. You’ll be all right for an hour. I don’t expect them back until afternoon milking.’ She pointed to the corner of the adjoining field. ‘See him? He’s clearing the ditches. Can’t miss that yellow patch, eh?’

‘No.’ Kath turned, smiling, and held out her hand. ‘Just in case I don’t get a chance later – thanks a lot, Jean. And good luck.’

‘You’re welcome, pal.’

Kath walked slowly, her heartbeats thudding delightfully in her ears. Then she began to run, calling his name, waving to him. He looked up and cried, ‘Kat! Katarina!’ and ran to meet her, scooped her up in his arms, lifting her high so she lost her balance and clung to him, laughing as he swung her round in a giddy whirl.

Then he lowered her gently to the ground, his eyes on hers, touching her face with gentle fingertips as if he couldn’t believe she were real.

‘Kat – it
is
you?’

‘It’s Kath,’ she whispered tremulously, closing her eyes and lifting her face for his kiss. ‘And oh, I’ve missed you so. Tell me you’ve missed me?’

‘I have missed you, Kat.’ They began to walk to the shelter of the hedge, arms linked, fingers entwined. ‘I think I shall never see you again, and then I am lucky and sent to work on this farm where there is Jean, who helps me. But how is everyone at Home Farm? And Roz – does she still grieve for Paul?’

‘Yes. She’s been through a terrible time, poor love, but she asked me to say “All the best,” to you. Only Roz knows I’m here, but everyone misses you.’

He smiled, and she wondered how ever she had existed so long without that smile; wondered how she would bring herself to leave him, when their hour had run.

‘And you, Kat? How is it for you?’

‘For me? We-e-ll –’ She sat down beside him on the sun-warmed grass, taking out her cigarettes, lighting two, passing one to him, and all the time the joy of what she was about to tell him – what she had so longed to tell him – surging through her in bubbles of excitement. Then moving closer so their shoulders touched she whispered, ‘Barney wants a divorce.’

‘He –
what
did you say?’

‘He wants me to divorce him.’ Laughter trembled on her words. ‘He wants to marry someone else; a nurse called Ellie he knew long before he met me. They met up again in Cairo, and – well – he’s giving me grounds for divorce. I saw my solicitor this morning and she’s pretty sure we’ll soon get a hearing – because Barney isn’t defending it, you see. She says that with luck I could be free by next summer.’ She stopped, breathless, then whispered, ‘Barney’s eyes are going to be all right. He had another operation in Edinburgh and already he can see. Soon he’ll be back with his regiment and oh, Marco, I can’t believe it; I just can’t. Even when the solicitor tells me it should be all plain sailing, I still can’t.’

‘I am glad that Barney sees again – more glad than you know, because if he hadn’t been so lucky you’d have stayed with him, I know it.’

‘Yes. I would. But it turned out all right, and I could have my decree nisi in the new year.’

‘Then you wait, Kat?’

‘Yes. For six months. And for that six months I mustn’t do anything – well –
wrong.
That’s what the law says, anyway.’

‘For six months,’ he frowned, ‘we can’t meet?’

‘I think not – I’ll ask my solicitor. But we’ll write, won’t we?’

‘
Si.
All the time we will write. And when I am wanting you I will tell myself that when next we shall meet – in the summer, perhaps – you will be a free lady, and I can ask you to marry me.’

‘And when you do,’ she whispered, holding his hand to her cheek, ‘this free lady will say yes, my love. Gratefully and gladly, she will say yes.’

Tears filled her eyes, spilled on to her cheeks and he gathered her close, kissed them tenderly away.

‘Katarina-mia, it is sad you must be so good, because I want so much to love you. And I want for you to stay with me; always to stay …’

‘Me, too. But it
will
come right for us, I know it. A gypsy came to Ridings, you see – you know what a gypsy is, Marco?’

‘Yes. I know.’

‘Well, she said I would know great love and much happiness.’

‘
Si.
I shall love you and make you happy always, Kat.’

‘And you won’t mind that perhaps we’ll have to wait a long time before we can be together?’

‘I
will
mind, but I shall, how you say, put up with it.’ He jumped to his feet, pulling her up beside him. ‘And let us walk or I shall kiss you and kiss you and we shall forget you must be good.’

She laughed, loving him and the nearness of him; glad it was the same for him, too.

‘I’ve brought you some cigarettes, Marco. Flora got me some when the WVS ladies came to the hostel. And I’ve brought you some of my chocolate ration; and some envelopes, with stamps on them. You’ll hide them, won’t you? Hide them some place the guards can’t find them if they search your hut?’

‘I’ll hide them good. No one finds Marco’s envelopes and no one will find the letters you send to me.’

‘But you
can’t
keep my letters. It’s too risky,’ she wailed. ‘You must tear them up – get rid of them.’

‘No, Kat. I shall keep them, but no one will ever find them. They will be all I have. Soon, it will be winter and dark and cold. I shall read your letters many times, so that summer comes more quickly.’

‘If I can’t come to see you until the divorce is absolute, you won’t forget me? You won’t let it make any difference that I’ll be a divorcee?’

‘No, Kat – and no. I love you. Tell me you will always love me?’

‘
Ti amo
, Marco. I shall always love you.’

‘Don’t go, Kat,’ he whispered, his lips against hers.

‘I must. They’ll be back before long. But I’ll see you again, if there’s a way. I promise I’ll try. Now that I’ve found you, I’ll find a way, somehow.’

‘Do you really know,’ he cupped her face in his hands, his eyes dark with longing, ‘how much I love you, and want you?’