Dancing in the Moonlight (40 page)

‘Don’t deserve it,’ he whispered to Lucy when she bent over the bed and kissed him for the umpteenth time. ‘Should have stayed.’

‘All forgotten, my darling.’ She stroked his face gently. ‘Be at peace now. You’ve given me Jacob, and I don’t have to be frightened any more. I love you so much,
we all love you.’

‘Ready – ready to see Ernie now. Can look him in the face. Couldn’t have before.’

‘I know, I know, but you’ve saved me. You can tell him that, can’t you, and kiss Mam and Da for me.’

A flicker of a smile touched the grey lips. ‘Remember me sometimes.’

‘Every day, my darling. Every single day.’ He closed his eyes, but this time he didn’t open them again and it was only a minute or two later when the Sister came silently to
the bedside, taking the hand that Lucy wasn’t holding and checking his pulse. ‘He’s gone, my dears,’ she said softly. ‘And so peacefully. Be glad for him.’

Lucy returned alone to the hospital the following afternoon. She had gone to see Enid in the morning, who was in a terrible state. The two women had cried and talked together
for a long time, and then cried some more. Enid was utterly broken, a shell of her former self. Lucy didn’t think she would ever be totally whole again, but Aaron had been there and Lucy had
been amazed at how gentle he was with his wife. She had left the Crawfords’ house feeling terribly sad, but with Aaron’s last words to her on the doorstep ringing in her ears. ‘I
shan’t let her sink, lass, don’t you fret,’ he’d whispered. ‘I think a bit of her you know, always have, but she didn’t make room for me afore. But she needs me
now an’ that’s not a bad thing.’

She had always thought, should a miracle happen and Tom Crawford meet his end, that she would feel like dancing and singing and shouting for joy, but curiously a great weight was pressing down
on her heart. Not for him. Never for him. But the cost of his demise had been so great. Donald dying, Jacob hurt and Enid crushed so that she would never fully rise again. And the repercussions
would follow them for a long time. The rumours, the gossip, the avid curiosity. Tom’s evil presence would continue to overshadow them and cast a dark pall on their lives.

She had said as much to Ruby when she’d returned home for a bite of lunch before it was time to go to the hospital. Her sister’s response had taken her aback and, if she was honest,
had offended her a little.

‘Don’t talk so daft,’ Ruby had said in her forthright way. ‘I know you’re grieving for Donald, we all are, and it can’t have been pleasant at the
Crawfords’ this morning, but don’t start down that road. This will be forgotten sooner than you think. With the war and the bombing, folk have got a darn sight more to talk about than
the odd bit of scandal. And don’t you go giving Tom Crawford the power to affect your life now he’s gone, or it’ll be your fault and no one else’s. He’s dead, lass.
Dead. And burning in hell, if there’s any justice. And you and Jacob and Daisy and me and the rest of us are alive. Overshadow us with his presence – my backside!’

Lucy had been so affronted that she hadn’t said another word before leaving the house, but now, as she entered the confines of the hospital, a reluctant smile played across her lips. Oh,
Ruby, she thought, don’t ever change. And it came to her just how much of a rock Ruby had been over the years. She would tell her so when she got home, she promised herself. And apologize for
being huffy. Because her sister was right. She and Jacob were alive, and she wouldn’t allow any spectres or ghosts from the past to spoil what little time they’d have together before he
had to go away again.

When she reached the ward the Sister came hurrying over before she’d barely stepped foot in the door. ‘Hello, Mrs Alridge.’ Her face was kind. ‘How are you and the rest
of the family bearing up?’

For a moment Lucy had thought it was bad news about Jacob, as the curtains were still drawn around his bed, but no doubt they were just seeing to it that he was kept quiet. ‘We’re
all right, thank you, Sister. How is Jacob?’ she added, looking towards his bed again.

‘A little better, but very sleepy. That’s the way with concussion. But he’s a young, strong lad and I wouldn’t be surprised to see him on his feet in a day or so.’
She hesitated. ‘We’re all very sorry about what’s happened, but keep your chin up, my dear, and look to the future.’

Lucy smiled. There
were
nice people in the world. Kind people who weren’t out to gossip and tear others to pieces with their tongues. That’s what she had to remember in the
next weeks and months when some of the old wives who came into the shops whispered behind their hands. And they would. And what they didn’t know for sure, they would make up and would
thoroughly enjoy themselves in the process. She had got on, that was the thing. Risen above her beginnings and, as such, would be termed an upstart behind her back. And upstarts were always
suspect.

She stood for a moment outside the curtains, feeling suddenly shy. Jacob knew everything, and she was glad he did – so glad – but deep, deep inside there was still a feeling of
shame, of degradation about what had happened that night so long ago. She knew in her head it was silly, that it hadn’t been her fault – she and Ruby had talked about this often –
but she didn’t want him to see her differently. Or for it to colour the way he regarded Daisy. Yesterday he’d been barely conscious, but today he would have had time to think about
things. What Tom had done to her, her running away when Jacob was still so ill in the hospital, marrying a man she didn’t love, keeping the truth from him for so long . . . She truly
didn’t see, even now, what she could have done differently, but that wasn’t to say that Jacob would understand. She had hurt him so badly, and not just once.

She glanced around the ward as if seeking help. The odd visitor or two was trickling in now and a low hum of conversation was beginning. She couldn’t delay any more. Nerving herself, she
moved the curtain and stepped into the little private bubble that the drapes provided. Jacob’s eyes were open and he was half-sitting up, but it was the look on his face as he saw her that
told her, without words, that her fears had been groundless. And then she was in his arms, and he was kissing her as she had never been kissed – kissing her until the breath seemed to leave
her body and he was the only thing in the world that mattered.

‘Oh, my darling, my darling.’ His mouth had moved from hers, but only to whisper endearments. ‘I love you, my sweet girl. More than life itself.’ And then he was kissing
her again, until a chair scraping outside the curtains at the next bed to Jacob’s, and a voice saying, ‘What’s the matter with him next door then? On his way out, is he?’
brought them back to reality.

She drew away slightly, their faces still close, and as if it had reminded him, Jacob whispered, ‘I’m sorry about Don, Lucy. He was a grand bloke. The police said Mam told them that
after Tom had knocked me out, Donald went for him with a knife. He must have had it in his pocket and meant to do for Tom all along. He was going to leave me with you and find him, I’m sure
of it, because he told me some cock-and-bull story about having to come to the hospital for some pills, but they knew nothing about it.’

She had been leaning across the bed, but now she sat down in the chair without letting go of his hand, nodding as she whispered back, ‘He felt he had to make everything right, I think. I
saw your mother this morning and she said that, before the police came, he asked her to keep my name out of things. Oh, Jacob, she’s beside herself. I don’t know what will become of her
now.’

He didn’t reply directly to this, shutting his eyes for a moment and then opening them as he squeezed her fingers. ‘I can’t think of anything but you and what you’ve gone
through. A lifetime won’t be long enough for me to make it up to you.’

‘None of it matters now.’

‘I hate him, lass. With every fibre of my being, I hate him. His death was too quick, he should have suffered more.’

‘Stop it.’ She put a gentle finger to his lips and repeated the words Ruby had spoken to her. ‘Don’t give him the power to affect your life now that he’s dead.
He’s gone, and we’re here. Please, if you love me, try and think of it like that.’

‘I’ll try.’

She could see that talking had tired him and he was struggling to keep his eyes open. ‘Sleep a while, I’m not going anywhere.’

He smiled tiredly. ‘I don’t want to waste a minute of being together. I can’t believe I’m stuck in here. This wasn’t what I’d planned for my leave.’

She stroked his forehead as his eyes closed. ‘What had you planned?’ she whispered softly.

‘I was going to wine and dine you, take you and Daisy out for tea, take you dancing . . .’ His voice was slurring, becoming slow. ‘I wanted you to know . . .’ he sighed,
‘to know that I . . . ’

He slept. Lucy smiled, gazing down at his battered face as though it was the most beautiful sight in the world.

Visiting was over before Jacob awoke, but one of the nurses promised to tell him that Lucy had stayed until the bell had sounded. Visiting hours were from two to four o’clock in the
afternoon on Tuesday and Thursday only during the week, and from two to five o’clock at weekends. Consequently Lucy spent the following day, a Friday, in an agony of frustration at the rules
that kept them apart.

She had a surprise visit in the afternoon, though. Abe and Dolly knocked on the door, Dolly full of self-recrimination and tears for the way she’d misjudged Lucy, and Abe repeating over
and over again, ‘We didn’t know, lass. We just didn’t know.’ They had been to see Enid and Aaron, who had told them the full story whilst swearing them to secrecy about the
true identity of Daisy’s father, for the child’s sake. By the time they left Lucy knew she had two staunch new friends.

On Saturday Daisy asked to come with her to the hospital and Lucy hadn’t got the heart to say that she wanted time with Jacob alone. As it happened, the three of them only had a few
minutes together before first Dolly and Abe and then Enid and Aaron turned up. There was a strict rule of four visitors to a bed, so Lucy and Daisy made their goodbyes and left. Lucy could have
cried, but she comforted herself with the fact that Jacob was much better. Time was slipping away, though. He was due to return to his unit soon.

An air-raid alert that night meant a couple of hours in the dubious comfort of the shelter, although no bombs fell on Sunderland. Newcastle wasn’t so fortunate – they were regularly
getting pounded.

Lucy was deathly tired when she awoke on Sunday morning. The others were dressed for church when she came downstairs, but she declined to go with them. The events of the last few days had caught
up with her and the thought of chatting with friends and acquaintances after the service, all of whom would be dying to know more about what had happened, was beyond her.

After waving the others off, she made herself a cup of tea and walked through to the sitting room, where the French doors were open to the glorious June sunshine. She had intended to sit in the
garden, but finding the sight of Donald’s empty deckchair too painful for the moment, she sat down in the sitting room and shut her eyes.

She must have dropped straight off because when she awoke from a deep sleep, to a knocking at the front door, her tea was cold and untouched. Feeling slightly woozy, she made herself get up and
answer the door, hoping against hope that it wasn’t another of the neighbours, or a friend with a bunch of flowers and condolences about Donald. The
Echo
had got hold of the story in
the last couple of days, and since then people they barely knew had been popping up out of the woodwork.

She opened the door, a polite smile in place. Jacob stood there, his bruised face abeam and, without a word, he took her in his arms. He did not kiss her immediately. His lips brushed her
forehead, her cheeks, her nose, before taking her mouth in a kiss that must have hurt his swollen jaw, such was its fierceness.

‘Come inside.’

She managed to find the strength to come back to Earth long enough to pull him into the house, away from prying eyes, and shut the door, and then they were kissing again, hungrily and without
restraint.

It was minutes later when she murmured, ‘When did you leave the hospital?’

‘A little while ago. I came straight here.’

‘I’m so glad you did.’

‘Where is everyone?’ It only now dawned on him that the house was quiet.

‘At church – they’ll be back soon.’

‘Then come into the sitting room. I’ve got something I want to say. I was going to ask you to come for a walk, but if we’re alone?’

‘We are.’

He pulled her into the sitting room, pushing her down in a chair and then kneeling down in front of her.

‘Jacob?’

‘Shush!’ He touched her lips with one finger. ‘Lucy, I have always loved you. Never for one moment have I stopped loving you, and I never will. You are my sun, moon and stars,
my universe, my everything. Will you marry me, my love? Will you be my wife and let me take care of you and Daisy and any little ones we might have together? Will you wait for me, because I intend
to come back to you and nothing will stop me, I promise.’

She knew he had no power to keep such a promise, but at that moment it didn’t matter. Her eyes shining, she flung her arms round his neck and slid down onto the floor with him. ‘Yes,
yes, yes.’

And then they were laughing and rolling about like two children, before he became serious again, sitting up and reaching into his pocket. She looked at the small velvet box he was holding and,
as he lifted the tiny catch and then the lid, she caught her breath. The ring was beautiful, a large sapphire surrounded by a bevy of small glittering diamonds. ‘Will you wear it until I come
back and can put a gold band beside it?’ he asked softly.

She nodded, her heart so full she couldn’t speak.

He slid the ring onto the third finger of her left hand and she knew a moment’s deep thankfulness that she had moved Perce’s wedding ring to her right hand a day or two ago. It had
seemed time somehow, the end of an era, and she had felt that Perce would have understood. And it made this moment, which had been so long in coming, perfect.