A Time of Peace (26 page)

Her friends had been aware of her unease, and he'd watched the older man's face as Kate had hesitated. When she'd accepted, Sam had given him a slight nod of the head, as if satisfied with her decision. And so was he. It would be interesting to see how she coped with her lingering fears, and perhaps he could help her to come to terms with what had happened. Not that he was interested in her, of course, just curious. The last thing
he intended to do was get romantically involved with a girl again. But Kate Freeman was hard to resist.

Now, who could he borrow a big car from?

Before it was light on Sunday morning Jon was on his way. Sam's village was only about five kilometres from Saint-Omer and would be easy enough to find. He'd left in plenty of time, though, in case he lost his way.

The large Citroën purred along, and he chuckled in delight as he remembered Rupert Walsh's look of disgust when he'd seen the battered old Ford he was offering to lend him in exchange for this sleek beast. He'd had to throw in enough francs for a slap-up meal before he had given way. Rupert was an ex-public-school boy, and now secretary at the British Embassy. From one lavish lifestyle to an even more lavish one. It would do him good to rough it for a change.

He stopped for breakfast in Saint-Omer, then wasted another half an hour walking around the ancient market town. Sixteen years after the war and there was hardly a sign of the devastation caused by that conflict.

Judging that if he left now he would arrive at seven, he returned to the car to continue his journey. He was really looking forward to seeing Kate again. Not that he intended anything but friendship between them. But he found her intriguing, and this would give him a chance to spend some time with her.

‘Oh, dear.' Maria gazed at the pile of luggage outside the door. ‘I do hope he has a very big car.'

‘I have rather overdone it,' Kate admitted. ‘But I've had such a wonderful time.'

Jacques stacked the last box on top of the heap. ‘You'd better ask him to take you straight to the children's home and get rid of the puppets first.' After issuing that piece of advice, he wandered off to see if Jon was coming yet.

Kate chewed her lip anxiously. ‘I don't want to put him to all that trouble.'

‘He won't mind.' Sam turned her to face him. ‘I'm a good judge of character, Kate. Jon Devlin has a tight control over his emotions and would never allow his feelings to overrule his actions. You'll be safe with him. Had I believed otherwise, I would never have allowed you to go back with him.'

‘I know.' She gave him a hug. ‘You have helped me so much, but some things are still vivid in my mind.'

‘They will fade in time. You must be patient with yourself,' Maria told her. ‘It took me quite a while to overcome the horror of the labour camp. It did eventually fade and it no longer hurts me.'

Kate felt sad as she remembered what these dear people had been through. But they were happy, whole people, and she would be again!

Jacques was peering up the road and began to wave
eagerly, then he turned and hurtled back to them. ‘There's a great big black car coming. It must be him.'

Jon drove up to the house, got out and was greeted warmly by everyone, including Kate.

Jon looked at the parcels and shook his head. ‘Good Lord, you have bought a lot.'

‘I'm afraid so,' she said apologetically.

Sam and Jacques helped him pack everything into the car, and she watched carefully. As a child she had been intuitive about people and seemed to know if they were nice, or someone she didn't want to know. That instinct had faded as she'd grown up, but it was still there and she now concentrated on Jon Devlin. What was he like as a man?

The feeling that swept through her was that he was calm, reliable, with controlled strength, tempered with kindness. Her doubts seeped away. There wasn't anything about him to be afraid of, in fact she could trust him. If only she'd made more use of her intuition last December, then it could have saved a great deal of anguish for herself and her family.

‘That's the lot, then.' Sam closed the boot of the car.

It had begun to drizzle and a wind was whipping the trees into a frenzy. Maria looked up at the leaden sky. ‘The weather is deteriorating. I hope you don't have too rough a crossing.'

‘Let's hope so.' Jon grimaced. ‘If you're ready, Kate, we'd better get going.'

She kissed them all. ‘Thank you for a lovely holiday.'

‘Don't leave it too long before you come again,' Maria told her. ‘And you pay us a visit when you have time, Jon.'

‘Thank you, I'll do that.' Jon started the car and headed down the road.

Kate waved until they were out of sight.

‘They're fine people,' he remarked as they turned on to the Calais road.

‘The best,' she agreed.

It was only about an hour to Calais, and they chatted easily all the way, mostly about the children. That was something they both had a great interest in and were in complete agreement about.

They drove straight on to the ferry when they arrived. The sea was choppy but not rough enough to delay sailing, and they were soon on their way. The rain had stopped, and they stood on the deck as they sailed away from France. It had been a wonderful week. Kate felt really relaxed. Bless Sam for his understanding.

She shivered and pulled her jacket around her. ‘You'd never believe it was the first week of August, would you?'

There was no response from her companion.

‘I'd like a cup of tea and something to eat,' she said. ‘Shall we go inside?'

‘I don't want anything. You go ahead.'

She was surprised by his sharp tone and wondered what she had done to upset him. But if he didn't want her company, then she'd leave him alone. He might not want anything to eat, but she was starving!

She enjoyed a pot of tea and a bacon sandwich, and, as there still wasn't any sign of Jon, she weaved her way back to where she'd left him, laughing to herself as the deck dropped from under her now and again. The weather was getting rougher.

He was still in the same place, so she stood beside
him, grabbing at the rail to steady herself. She was about to make a joke about the way the boat was rolling when she saw his face. He looked awful!

‘You're seasick!' She was surprised that the big, tough man could succumb to a choppy sea. She put her arm around his shoulders in sympathy. ‘Let me get you a drink.'

‘I don't want anything.' He shook her arm loose, moving further along the rail. ‘Go away!'

If he thought she was going to leave him in this state, then he was very much mistaken. He might fall overboard. The only concession she made to his request was to take two steps away from him. He could glower at her as much as he liked, but she wasn't moving.

They were only about half an hour from Dover when he straightened up. She was relieved to see he had more colour in his face.

He ran a hand through his wind-blown hair and glanced at her. ‘All right, I'll have that cup of tea now.'

She walked beside him not speaking, resisting the urge to steady him by holding on to his arm. He obviously found sympathy unwelcome, so she wouldn't risk that again. Once this journey was over she wouldn't have to see him again. It was a comforting thought, because he made her feel very edgy.

‘Sit down,' she ordered. ‘I'll get the tea.' She was soon back and watched him drink two cups of sweet tea.

‘You can stop looking at me with such disbelief,' he growled. ‘Everyone has a weakness, and mine is the sea.'

‘Then why didn't you fly back?'

‘I was hoping it would be like a millpond.'

‘And you'd promised to bring me back.' She was suddenly
sure that the only reason he was on this boat was because of her.

‘That too.' He managed a slight smile. ‘Reckless of me to think I could make the journey without throwing up.'

The call came to disembark, and they were soon heading for London. Jon appeared to have recovered completely and was obviously happy now he was on dry land again.

‘Do you want to go to the children's home first?' he asked.

‘That would be lovely. Do you mind?'

‘Not at all. I can't wait to see these puppets.'

There were squeals of delight as they staggered in with the parcels. After making sure the boys were all there, Kate lined up the boxes on the floor.

‘There's one for each of you, so who's the youngest?'

‘Me, me!' Eddie was beside himself with excitement.

Kate knelt on the floor behind the boxes. ‘I want you to come up one at a time in order of age and choose a box. Whatever is in it will be yours.'

The boys shuffled along, kept in order by Mrs Green, and pounced on the parcels.

‘I don't want you to open them until you've all chosen one,' she ordered sternly, as little fingers eagerly tore at the wrapping.

When each child had his parcel, she sat back on her heels. ‘Now you can open them.'

It was bedlam as the puppets were pulled out of the boxes with screams of delight. Eddie rushed at her, knocking her flat on her back. It was a good job she was
wearing trousers, she thought, as she rolled on the floor with not only Eddie but also Tom and the rest of them, all trying to thank her at once.

‘They move!' Tom shouted as she extracted herself from the mêlée.

‘How, how?' Eddie was clutching a white, long-eared rabbit with enormous eyes and a gleeful expression on its face.

They all appeared more than satisfied with the ones they had, particularly Tom, who had the orang-utan.

Jon was busy showing some of them how to manipulate the strings, and she made Eddie's and Tom's dance for them. She was enormously pleased to see that the older ones were as taken with the puppets as the younger ones.

‘They're going to have hours of fun with those.' Mrs Green smiled as she looked at twelve happy faces. ‘Would you stay and have lunch with us?'

Jon looked up. ‘Can you spare the time, Kate?'

‘Of course.'

Eddie and Tom were overjoyed that they were staying for a while, and had a hard time remaining quiet when they were eating – something that Mrs Green was strict about. Kate noticed that Jon must have recovered from his boat journey, because he appeared to enjoy his mince and dumplings.

They left half an hour after the meal, and Kate saw him slip some notes into Mrs Green's hand.

‘Where to next?' he asked.

‘Could you take me to Roehampton? I've left my car there.'

Her parents were in when they arrived. Her father shook Jon's hand.

‘Thank you for bringing Kate home. I can see from the amount of luggage that she couldn't have managed on her own.'

‘This is nothing,' Jon told him. ‘You should have seen what she brought back for the children.'

Kate explained about the puppets, her face animated.

‘You sound as if you've enjoyed yourself,' Rose said, pouring them all a cup of tea and slicing a freshly baked fruitcake.

‘I've had a wonderful time.' She pulled a comical face. ‘But I've spent a lot of money.'

‘That's all right.' Her father didn't seem troubled by that fact. ‘It isn't often you buy things just because they take your fancy.'

Her mother's expression told her that she didn't approve of reckless spending. Kate knew that as a child her life had been one of extreme poverty, never knowing where the next meal was coming from. Although they were now considered quite wealthy, her mother had, understandably, never completely lost her caution about money. To Rose it was a commodity to make life more comfortable, and to help others in desperate need. Squandering money did not sit easily with her.

‘My biggest expense was the puppets,' she explained to her mother, ‘and it was worth every franc to see the children so happy. I also bought Maria a beautiful gown.'

Her mother nodded her approval at those purchases, then said to Jon, ‘Will you stay and have dinner with us?'

‘I'm afraid I can't, but thank you for the invitation.'
He stood. ‘I promised the children that I'd be back for tea.'

‘Thank you for helping me,' Kate told him as they walked into the hall. ‘I'm very grateful.'

‘It was my pleasure.'

She tipped her head to one side and looked disbelieving.

‘Except for the boat trip.' He picked up his jacket, grimacing at the memory.

‘You travel all over the world and must have to go by sea sometimes, so how do you manage?' she asked. If he was ill like that every time, then he must dread such journeys.

‘I try not to go by boat if I can, but you're right, it is unavoidable at times.' His mouth turned up at the corners in a wry smile. ‘I throw up for a couple of hours and then I'm all right.'

‘Well, pick a calmer day when you return to France, won't you?'

‘I'll do my best.' Then he strode out to the car and roared off up the road towards Wandsworth.

‘Are you staying?' her father asked her.

‘No, sorry, Dad, I want to get back to the flat and then check and see what Pete has lined up for next week.'

Bill was in the sitting room watching his daughter drive away. ‘She looks happier and more relaxed. That haunted expression is still in her eyes, but I think she's feeling more like herself.'

‘The holiday has done her good.' Rose sat down and rubbed her temple.

‘Have you got another headache?' Bill asked in concern.

‘Yes, damned things. I thought I'd grown out of these, but they've returned just lately.'

‘It's stress caused by everything that's happened, I expect.' Bill kissed her on the top of the head. ‘Why don't you go to bed for a while?'

‘It isn't that bad.' She settled herself in the armchair and closed her eyes. ‘I'll rest here for an hour.'

Bill sat opposite her and gazed out of the window, deep in thought. After a while he looked back at Rose, who had opened her eyes.

‘I can hear your mind working, Bill. What are you chewing over?'

‘Jon Devlin seems to keep popping up everywhere. Do you think Kate is falling for him?'

Rose sat up straight. ‘I don't think she's capable of falling in love at the moment. It might be a while before she can trust a man again.'

Bill was clearly saddened by that prospect. ‘She's always been such a loving, sensitive girl, and I'd hate to believe she'll never have a family of her own because of one man.'

‘For the first time in my life I wish she were more like me and would rant and rave, fighting everyone in sight, but she isn't like that. It is because she is so sensitive that I'm afraid the kidnapping and violence might leave scars too deep to heal properly.'