The Hills and the Valley (47 page)

But she had to have an outlet or go under herself. If she was to help him, she had to establish a sound base from which to work. Now was the time to do it.

‘All right, Marcus, I'll stay on one condition. I am serious about doing war work. If you try to stop me, I
shall
leave you.'

‘Anything, Barbara. Only please – don't go!'

‘All right, we'll try again.'

She did not add a second condition. She did not tell him as she might have done a few minutes ago that she would also leave him if he continued to take her by force instead of in love. With an instinctive wisdom beyond her years Barbara knew that was a promise he would be unable to keep.

She went to Bath on Monday morning to the Headquarters of the Civil Nursing Division where she was interviewed by the Honorary Organizer herself.

Facing her questions across the table Barbara felt hopelessly inadequate. No, she had no formal training and no nursing experience either, just a few classes in first aid which she had attended when she was fire watching, to her credit. Yes, she was willing to learn. As credentials she gave details of her education and the business training she had received.

The Organizer sat for a moment reading the form which Barbara had completed. Then she looked up at Barbara directly.

‘I'm not sure that enrolling you as an Auxiliary would be the best way to aid the war effort, Mrs Spindler.'

Barbara's heart sank. ‘But it said in the advertisement that experience was not necessary,' she argued. ‘I'm young and fit and I'm ready to do whatever is required of me. The Minister of Health himself has launched a campaign for more nurses, it said so in the paper. If you turn me down I shall just have to go elsewhere to offer my services.'

The Organizer smiled. She admired spirit, particularly in the young.

‘I didn't say I was turning you down. I simply said I think there may be better ways for you to help the war effort than by nursing.'

‘Such as?'

The Organizer straightened the papers in front of her. ‘I need help here at my HQ. Administering the Civil Nursing Reserve involves a lot of clerical work. With your education and business training background I am sure you could be of great assistance to me. It doesn't sound as glamorous as nursing, I agree – not that nursing is as glamorous as people seem to think it, in any case. But it is very necessary and I must have staff I can depend on. Would you consider working here with me, Mrs Spindler?'

‘Oh!' Barbara said, the wind taken out of her sails.

The Organizer continued to look at her with that disconcertingly direct gaze. It was not what she had expected, but yes, now that she came to think of it, working here at HQ did have a certain appeal. No awkward shifts. No bedpans. No brooms. And the chance at last to put her training to good use.

Barbara nodded. ‘Yes. Yes. I think I would consider it. And yes, I think I would like it very much.'

Whilst she was in Bath she took the opportunity to look around the shops, though she did not buy anything. She was amused by the queues which had formed outside some shops and joined one for the fun of it.

‘What are you queuing for?' she asked the woman in front of her.

The woman shrugged. ‘Don't know. But as soon as I saw the queue I knew it must be for something. We'll find out when we get there.'

Briefly, Barbara shared her excitement, but after ten minutes with no appreciable movement she began to be bored, left the queue and followed it to its head to see where it was leading.

A chemists'shop!

Curious, thought Barbara. Why should anyone queue outside a chemists'shop? Oh well, perhaps they knew what they were doing. But then again, perhaps they did not.

Barbara wandered on.

By killing the rest of the afternoon she managed to be at the bus station at exactly the same time as Maureen. Her sister, who now travelled to school alone, was delighted to see her and it seemed just like old times as they sat side by side on one of the hard wooden seats rattling along and chattering all the way.

‘Why don't you come home for an hour?' Maureen suggested when the bus reached Hillsbridge. Barbara glanced at the town clock. She still had more than three hours before she needed to begin getting ready for dinner and the thought of spending at least a couple of them at her old home was an inviting one. Besides, if she was going to begin working for the Civil Nursing Reserve it might be the last opportunity she would have for quite a while.

The girls walked along the lane.

‘Shall we call in at the office and see Mum?' Barbara suggested as they approached the yard.

‘She isn't there today,' Maureen told her. ‘She's gone to a meeting of the Haulage Association or whatever they call themselves.'

‘Does that mean she'll be late home?' Barbara asked, dismayed.

‘I shouldn't think so. I know the men tend to rabbit on a bit but Mum is very good at getting a meeting closed when she wants to go home. And she and Ralph are supposed to be going out tonight to some function in connection with the Comforts Fund.'

In the months since she had left to be married little had changed at Valley View. Mrs Milsom was at the sink peeling potatoes for the evening meal and she dried her hands to greet Barbara warmly.

‘Well, well, Miss Babs, fancy seeing you! I thought you'd gone and deserted us.'

‘Now would I do a thing like that?' Barbara asked, helping herself to a few crumbs of a cake which was cooling on the table. ‘This looks good – what is it?'

‘Carrot cake,' Mrs Milsom told her. ‘It's not the same as a nice slice of Dundee, but there you are.'

‘Can I have some?' Barbara asked. ‘I'm starving.'

‘It shouldn't be cut yet. It's still warm,' Mrs Milsom said severely, then smiled, setting her multiple chins wobbling. ‘Well, go on then. But don't blame me if you get indigestion.'

‘I won't.' Barbara cut herself a thick slice and bit into it. ‘Hey, not bad! Do you want some, Maureen?'

‘She does not. You'll have your mother after you if you spoil your appetite, Miss Maureen.'

‘When have I ever done that, Milsy?' Maureen laughed and the girls munched carrot cake together. Then Maureen went upstairs to change out of her school uniform and Mrs Milsom departed to lay the table – something she liked to get out of the way before the cooking reached what she referred to as ‘the crucial stage'.

Barbara sat by the fire glancing through the
News Chronicle
which had been discarded in Mrs Milsom's rocking chair and toasting her toes. She felt good and comfortable, happier than she had done for weeks.

Perhaps everything was going to come out right after all, she thought. Her new job would give her a different perspective on things and she was determined to make a success at last of her marriage to Marcus. Patience and understanding were what was required and in the end she would see his mind mend as his body had, so that he would once again truly be Hillsbridge's ‘golden boy'.

Lost in her thoughts she did not hear the footsteps approaching the back door, but when the handle creaked and began to turn Barbara looked up in surprise. Too early for her mother, surely, and Ralph never used the back door. She half rose as it swung open, then gasped and froze. It couldn't be. She must have fallen asleep and be dreaming.

The apparition smiled.

‘Hello, Barbara.'

And then she moved, running across the kitchen and throwing herself into his arms. And her voice, though only a whisper, was so full of joy it seemed to come from every bit of her being.

‘Huw – oh Huw! I don't believe it! Huw!'

He held her. Her hair was silky soft against his face, her body felt firm and sweet and whole. A thousand dreams and now she was in his arms. Unexpectedly, tears filled his eyes. He buried his face in her hair and hugged her close.

After long moments she pulled back, still holding him, but tilting her head so she could see him.

‘Huw! You're all right! You're here! Oh Huw!'

She was crying, too, and laughing at the same time. He pulled her close again, not wanting her to see his tears.

‘Oh Barbara!' Her name was like a liturgy. He heard himself saying it over and over. Time had stopped, the world stood still. The cosy kitchen around them ceased to exist. He kissed her, felt the eager response of her lips, held her close again. Time for questions and explanations later. For now all that mattered was being here. With her.

They did not hear Maureen coming back downstairs. The first warning was her excited squeal and then there were not two bodies embracing but three. After the first ecstatic moment it brought him back to reality.

‘What are you doing here?' Maureen asked. ‘We thought you were dead! Oh, Mrs Milsom, come quickly! It's Huw! He's home!'

‘Whatever is going on? Whatever …?' Mrs Milsom stopped in the doorway, her hands full of cutlery. Then she added her voice to the clamour.

‘Oh Master Huw! Oh my goodness!'

He put his kitbag down on one of the chairs.

‘Why didn't you let us know, you naughty boy?' Mrs Milsom asked. And then: ‘Oh my Lord, whatever happened to your face?'

He touched the still-bubbled skin defensively. ‘I got burned when my kite came down. It's not so bad now.' He looked around. ‘Where is Amy? I called in at the yard and she wasn't there. They thought she'd be at home.'

‘She'll be here soon. Oh Huw, tell us, where have you been?' Maureen bubbled.

‘In France. It's a very long story. I got back this morning. They flew me out.' He glanced towards the stove. ‘Is the kettle on Mrs Milsom? If there's one thing I could do with it's a nice cup of English tea!'

‘Yes, of course, Master Huw. Oh my goodness. I'm all of a dither!'

‘Sit down, Milsy, and I'll see to it,' Barbara said.

Huw watched as she set out cups and saucers and though he was now trying to answer their hundred and one questions he could think of nothing but Barbara and how lovely she was. Christ, he could eat her. Devour her. The way she moved started a fire within him, her smile touched his heart. Barbara – I love you! I've always loved you and I was too stupid to realise it. But I'm here now and everything is going to be all right. There's nothing to stand between us now. Nothing …

She made the tea, poured it, and brought a cup over to him.

‘I was lucky,' he was saying. ‘Lucky not to be captured and even more lucky not to be killed. My kite went down in a mass of flames.'

‘Oh Huw!' she said. ‘Oh your poor face!'

As she stretched out her hand to touch the scorched skin of his cheek he saw it. A wedding ring, a plain circle of gold on the third finger of her left hand. He caught her hand, held it, looking at the ring.

‘What's this?'

She turned pale as she remembered what the excitement had made her forget.

‘I'm married,' she said.

‘Married?'

‘Last August. Marcus and I were married.'

‘Oh,' he said. The joy was dying in him. Was dead already.

‘You missed it, Huw!' Maureen bubbled. ‘It was a lovely wedding. She's practically the Lady of the Manor now, aren't you, Babs?'

Married. She was married. He was too late.

‘I wrote to tell you I was engaged,' she said defensively.

‘But I didn't think … Amy wrote that it would be at least a year …'

The others had fallen silent, aware suddenly of a drama in which they had no part being played out.

‘There didn't seem any point in waiting.' Her voice was brittle.

No point. He had discovered there was no reason why he should not love her, been unable to tell her, and now it was too late. The injustice of fate was staggering. Somehow he managed to compose himself.

‘Congratulations. I wish I hadn't missed it. I hope you're very happy.'

She did not answer. She had felt him go away from her and the agony of it was almost too much to bear.

They heard the sound of a car outside.

‘It's Mum!' Maureen cried, excited again. ‘Wait till she sees you, Huw! Mum!' She ran to the door, wrenching it open.

For a moment Huw and Barbara remained motionless, looking at one another. There was so much to say and none of it would make any difference. She was married. It was as final as if she had been dead.

Amy came in, her face alight, and it all began again.

‘Huw! I knew you'd come back! I knew you would!'

He hugged her, trying to ignore the empty leaden place inside him.

‘You knew you wouldn't get rid of me so easily, you mean? It takes more than the Boche to kill me.'

‘The Boche!' Maureen giggled. ‘Oh Huw, how French you sound! What was it like? Tell us all about it!'

‘Give Huw a chance! He'll tell us about it over dinner,' Amy said and turned to her elder daughter. ‘You'll stay, won't you, Babs? Ring Marcus and tell him you must stay for dinner. I'm sure they'll understand this is a very special occasion.'

Barbara bit her lip. In the midst of all the excitement she was suddenly thinking of Marcus and his threats of suicide. If she stayed away tonight he might think she had left him and heaven only knew what he might do.

‘I'm sorry, but I don't think I can,' she said.

‘Oh surely …' Amy began.

Another notch tightened in Huw. ‘Don't worry, Barbara, if you have to go I understand.'

‘I'm really sorry …'

‘Well, I think that you married into a very peculiar family,' Amy said briskly. ‘How long are you here for, Huw?'

He hesitated. He had been given a week's leave but he knew now he was not going to take it. At least, not here. A week around Barbara, looking at her and knowing she could not be his? Seeing her perhaps with that damned. Marcus Spindler? Knowing, even when they were together, that she would be going home to bed with him? It was more than flesh and blood could stand.