Read For All Our Tomorrows Online
Authors: Freda Lightfoot
Sara was at a loss to know what to say.
Nora had no such problems. ‘Why would that flighty little barmaid be in Mr Marracks’s boat? Don’t make no sense, I told Scobey. Your squint must be getting worse than ever and you’m seeing things that aren’t there. But he would have it that it was her. Saw her plain as day, sitting in the bow in the moonlight.’
Sara made some excuse or other and could hardly wait for the meeting to be over so she could run to Hugh and ask him to put her fears to rest. She tried to make light of it, relating what Nora had said as if it were all very amusing, giving a soft little chuckle and waiting for him to laugh with her and agree that Scobey had indeed been mistaken.
Instead, Hugh coldly retorted, ‘It seems you are determined to pursue this stupid suspicion of yours and presumably listen to every bit of tittle-tattle and gossip which comes your way in order to prove your point. Really Sara, I had thought you above all of that sort of nonsense. I did hope that you might actually believe what I’ve told you, if only because I’m your husband and I love you. It’s desperately sad to realise that you don’t trust me at all.’
‘Of course I trust you, that’s not what I meant. I was simply telling you what Nora Snell had said and . . .’
‘Nora Snell’s opinion, or Scobey’s cross-eyed visions, cut no ice with me, though I’m quite sure you must have encouraged the gossip.’
‘What?’
‘I shall have to punish you for this. I’ve no wish to, Sara, not in the least, but I really can’t have you spreading gossip about me, telling people I go out to sea at night, with or without Iris.’
‘But I’m not spreading gossip, I’m merely sharing a piece of amusing tittle-tattle with you. We all know that Nora is an old busybody, though she works hard enough for the town. There’s talk of her being mayor next year. But nobody listens to her malice, or takes her gossip seriously, so why should you?’
‘Because you obviously do.’
‘I don’t. I knew, of course, that Iris couldn’t possibly be with you. And what on earth do you mean by punish me? I’m not a naughty schoolgirl,’ and she gave a little laugh.
‘I won’t have the likes of Nora Snell sharpening her claws on me, or you allowing her to. Perhaps if you are deprived of transport for a week or two, then in future you’ll make more effort to nip such nastiness in the bud.’
Sara sat down, her knees suddenly feeling very weak. ‘Deprived of transport? You’re going to stop me using the car because of what Nora Snell said?’
‘I cannot control Nora Snell’s tongue. But I can control yours because you are my wife. You cannot use the car for two weeks - no, a month. Perhaps then you’ll learn to be more circumspect.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Hugh. I’ve done nothing wrong.’
‘I will be obeyed in this.’
‘You can’t do that. I need the car if I’m to properly organise Salute the Soldier week. And I’m still involved in collecting salvage and wool for the WVS. You know that they depend upon me.’
‘Then they’ll be disappointed and will be forced to make other arrangements. In fact I think it would be for the best if you handed in your resignation. That will show Nora Snell where her nastiness has got her, and how very unreliable you are, and she’ll then have to find someone else to do her dirty work.’
‘But I’m not. Unreliable, I mean. And I really don’t mind helping her. I’ve no wish to resign. Hugh, this is all getting completely out of hand.’
But he only turned and walked away into the stock room, the discussion closed. ‘You spend far too much time doing things for other people, and you haven’t even begun to make supper. The children are out playing God knows where. Your place is here, looking after me and being a proper mother. One minute you complain that you have too much work to do, the next not enough, and all because I won’t allow you behind the bar. I really don’t understand you.’
Sara was almost weeping by this time, appalled by where her lack of faith in him had led. ‘Perhaps I am a little jealous of Iris because she gets all the fun bits, working with you, and talking to people in the pub, while I just get the cleaning and cooking.’
He rounded on her, his eyes dark and angry. ‘Oh, we’re back to that complaint are we, that you get no fun? I believe it was you doing the flirting, with those dratted Yanks. I was entirely justified in my suspicions, and in banning you from the bar, while yours are not.’
Sara couldn’t allow him to get away with that. She had to protest. ‘But Iris is so often away from the bar on the same nights as you, sometimes for days at a time, also like you. Are you trying to tell me that you’re not together during those periods?’
She thought that she detected a flicker of panic behind the cold eyes, but then it was gone in an instant, as if she’d imagined it. When had Hugh ever panicked or felt in the least bit insecure?
‘I thought I’d made it clear that what I do is not open for discussion.’
‘Yes but, Iris . . .’
‘Is a work colleague. If Nora Snell has seen her in my boat, so be it. Unfortunate perhaps but it was for an entirely innocent reason. You’ll have to trust me on that.’
‘Are you saying Iris is involved with the coast-guard service too?’
His patience finally ran out and he snapped at her. ‘Questions, questions, endless bloody questions. Haven’t I told you that the kind of work I do is not your concern. Leave it at that, Sara.’
Sara flew about the small kitchen finding frying pan, sausages and tomatoes, frantically peeling potatoes, flushed with embarrassment as Hugh droned on and on, listing her faults and inadequacies. All about how she was becoming utterly paranoiac, and seeing problems everywhere. Was this true? Was she paranoiac, imagining problems where there were none?
Or was this all hot air and Hugh really was having an affair?
It certainly seemed an unlikely coupling, a flighty young barmaid and a mature man with precious little in the way of a sense of humour. Sara stifled a small hysterical giggle at the thought. Yet how could she be certain? Could she trust him? Could one trust any man confronted night after night by the likes of pretty, curvaceous, Iris Logan.
It was all very puzzling. First he claimed Nora Snell is nothing but a nasty old gossip, now he is practically admitting that yes, Iris may well have been with him on the boat, but that they were
working
! Presumably for the coastguard. Then why hadn’t he told her this before?
Surely it was perfectly understandable if she was just the tiniest bit anxious?
Later, as Hugh tucked into sausage and mash, a dribble of brown sauce on his chin, he told her in forbidding tones, ‘You will resign from the committee, forthwith. You can safely leave winning the war to we men. It’s not women’s business at all.’
Sara knew she should meekly agree and accept what he said. This had been the worst quarrel she could ever remember them having, and he expected her to apologise and agree to his terms. It’s what she would have done in the past, but somehow she kept thinking of Charlie telling her what a fine woman she was; how gifted and clever she was to manage things so well, so that somehow she couldn’t quite manage it. She had to speak out.
‘Oh, but women
are
involved in this war, Hugh. You can’t deny that.’
Hugh glared at her and almost laughed at loud. He certainly couldn’t deny it. Just watching Iris issuing orders to French fishermen, secret agents, and undercover men from the Royal Navy made him breathless with excitement. He’d never realised that female power could be such a turn on. But Iris was different.
‘No dear, not women like you, with no brains in their heads. Now run along and find the children, then get on with baking pasties, mopping the floor, or whatever little tasks you have to do before opening time, and let me eat my dinner in peace.’
Sadie had taken Barney to her heart. ‘Such a nice boy,’ she kept saying. ‘Not like that other one.’ And it didn’t matter how many times Bette reminded her that she’d never even met Chad, Sadie was completely smitten and there was an end to the matter.
So was Bette. Despite a strong sense of disloyalty towards Chad, she was very attracted to him. Barney was fun. Exciting. Dangerous!
She never took him to Whitehouse, that had been special for her and Chad; a daft place to have a cuddle anyway, so near to the Pillbox. They’d go for a walk or to the flicks of course, but on a cold evening he was content to sit happily by the fire and then join the family for supper.
Cory loved to talk to him about fishing and one evening, her father proudly showed off his prize rabbits. ‘I started keeping them for the war effort, do you see? You get one shilling and sixpence a pound for the meat.’
‘You sell them to the butcher, do you?’ Barney asked with interest.
Cory sucked thoughtfully on his pipe. ‘Not yet, I haven’t, but I could if I wanted. If I needed the money.’
‘Aren’t they expensive to keep?’
‘No, they’m happy with potato peelings, soaked bread crusts and cabbage leaves. Proper job. Costs us next to nothing.’ He was tickling one under its ear as he explained all of this. ‘Bit of grass they do like, or hay. Cheap enough to feed.’
Barney nodded. ‘And in return you get rabbit pie whenever you feel like it.’
A slight panic came into Cory’s eyes and Bette put a hand to her mouth to hide a smile. To her certain knowledge not one rabbit had been killed and skinned, nor ever would be. ‘Not yet, we haven’t. But it’s a possibility, if we ever got really hungry.’
To his credit, Barney’s mouth didn’t twitch a muscle as he answered with all seriousness, ‘Good thinking.’
Barney Willert had turned out to be a far more interesting and perceptive person than he’d seemed at first sight. But he still couldn’t resist bragging that American rabbits were bigger but then, that was Barney.
Chapter Nineteen
Barney and Bette were dancing cheek to cheek. He was breathing softly against her ear, stroking her back as they swayed together and Bette found herself nestling closer. She loved their Friday nights out at the Armoury best of all their times together, looked forward to them all week. This was where she most liked to be, in his arms.
The music ended and he let her go quite abruptly, looking around with a dazed expression in his eyes, as if he didn’t wish to be seen anywhere near her, or as if he could hardly bear to touch her. Why was that, she wondered?
‘What’s wrong?’ she asked. ‘Something is, I can tell.’
‘Let’s go outside. We need to talk.’
They strolled down the lane, the scent of damp earth and new grass strong in their nostrils and somewhere in the distance, the thin whistle of a train and a hiss of steam as it drew out of the station.
‘You’ve been cool with me all evening. What is it? Don’t you like me any more?’
‘Sure I do, but you ain’t my girl and I have to keep reminding myself of that fact. I really don’t think I can go on like this, Bette. I can’t see you any more.’
Bette was appalled. She couldn’t begin to imagine what her week, her life, would be like without him. Ever since Chad’s letters had stopped Barney had become the entire focus of her existence. ‘Not see me any more? But why? I’m sure Chad wouldn’t object to us keeping each other company while he’s away. Anyway, he won’t have to mind, will he? If he truly cared, he’d find some way to write to me, censor or no censor.’
There were tears in her eyes, in her voice, though quite why she couldn’t exactly be sure. Did she weep for Chad or at the thought of losing Barney? He slipped an arm about her shoulders and drew her close.
‘Hey, don’t take on. Chad is a lucky guy to have you waiting for him when he comes home. He’ll be the one smooching you then and I’m gonna have to pretend I don’t care, when really I do. You have a funny sort of effect on me, Bette.’
He was holding her much closer than he usually did, and she could feel the urgency of his need. Bette was young and lonely enough to feel some of his excitement transmit itself to her. ‘Do I? What sort of effect?’
In truth, Barney’s patience was wearing thin. He was a soldier, after all, and she was a pretty girl. He didn’t believe in platonic friendships. That had never been part of his plan. He wanted her, and he meant to have her.
He was kissing her brow, her eyes, nipping her mouth with soft, teasing kisses, making her feel all giddy and slightly breathless.
‘I dunno, can’t seem to get you out of my head.’
Bette giggled, rather tickled by this. ‘That sounds like a song title.’
‘I’m serious. England is a cold, wet place, so small you could lose it in North Carolina. You have funny money, you queue for sausages which taste of sawdust and you pull a chain when you go to the John. I’d hate it, if it weren’t for you, sugar. When I’m with you I find I’m kinda different – maybe even better than the real me, ya know?’
‘Oh yes, I do see that.’
‘You make me behave like this, all decent and respectable.’
‘Goodness,’ gasped Bette, her expression mock serious. ‘How very remiss of me.’
‘Don’t tease, I can’t handle it. If you were any other girl, I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off of you. I’d be after getting you in the sack, Chad or no Chad.’