One Step at a Time (46 page)

Stan found another bottle and thrust it at Charlie. ‘It was good of you to save these, mate. I was too ill to think of it, and Ben was half dead when we arrived at that other camp.’

‘Yeah, well, I know how much they meant to Ben. I thought he was going to kill that guard who destroyed the first lot of drawings.’

‘Let’s have a look.’ Howard sat on the floor. ‘These are fantastic,’ he muttered, and then looked up at Charlie. ‘This one’s of you. What are you doing with that guard?’

‘Picking his pocket.’ He laughed, at ease now he’d returned the pictures to their rightful owner. ‘Good, isn’t it?’

Taking it out of Howard’s hand, Ben searched in his pocket until he found a pencil, then he signed his name at the bottom, and gave it to Charlie. ‘You keep this one. I’m very grateful to you.’

‘Thanks, Ben. I’ll have it framed and stick it over my bed to remind me not to go back to my old ways.’ He smirked and began rolling up his sleeves. ‘Now, what the hell are you trying to do here? You look as if you could do with some more help.’

The door opened again at that moment, and Ben looked up to see Amy watching them, a smile on her face. For some reason, just lately he had felt uncomfortable when she was near him. He couldn’t fathom out why, because he’d always enjoyed being with her.

‘Well!’ Her startling green eyes had an amused glint to them. ‘You all look very busy.’

Howard laughed. ‘We’re just taking a well-earned break. Come and meet Charlie, a friend of Ben and Stan’s.’

‘Hello, Charlie.’ She shook his hand.

‘What the devil are you doing here?’

She spun round, startled by the sharp tone of Ben’s voice. ‘I’ve come to see if I can help for a couple of hours.’

He glowered at her. ‘You should be at home with Grace.’

‘She’s asleep, and Chrissie is with her.’ Amy frowned, hurt that Ben should think she would leave her daughter without proper care. ‘She is a nurse, Ben.’

‘That’s all right, then.’ He turned away, but didn’t apologize for speaking so sharply to her.

Howard stepped in. ‘We’d be glad of your help, Amy. You can start painting that wall, if you like. It’s coming along, isn’t it?’

‘Yes. It’s going to look really lovely when it’s finished.’ Picking up a brush and tin of paint, she smiled at Stan. ‘How are Helen and the children?’

‘Wonderful, thanks, but I’m sorry to hear your little Grace has caught fowl pest.’

‘Fowl pest?’ It took a moment for that to sink in. ‘Oh, you mean chickenpox.’

They all laughed, irritating Ben even more. She was very friendly with all the men, and he didn’t like the way Charlie was eyeing her. ‘Have you come to work, or not?’

Her smile faded, but she said nothing. Turning her back on him, she began painting the wall. She worked for about half an hour, humming to herself, happy to be helping for a little while.

‘It isn’t necessary for you to do that, Amy.’ Ben was across the room watching her with a frown of irritation on his face. ‘I’ll finish it later… and make a better job of it.’

After putting down the brush, she headed across to him, ready to give him a playful punch, as she’d always done when he was teasing. ‘Come on then, let’s see you do better.’ It was only when he stepped back that she realized he wasn’t joking. He meant it. Hurt, she said, ‘What do you suggest I do, then?’

‘I don’t know. Make some tea or something.’

Wiping paint from her hands with a rag, she looked down to hide the hurt in her eyes. He was belittling her, and he’d never done that before. She was relieved Charlie and Stan were upstairs and couldn’t hear him. ‘I can see I’m not wanted here. I’m sorry I bothered you.’ Then she walked out of the door.

‘Wait, Amy!’ Howard called. But she was already running for a bus just pulling up at the stop. He turned to his friend, keeping his voice low. ‘Just what the hell are you doing treating our Amy like that? She doesn’t deserve to be spoken to so rudely.’

Ben shrugged, feeling uncomfortable. He didn’t understand why he’d done that either. Giving a ragged sigh, he said, ‘I’m in a rotten mood. I’ll apologize when I see her.’

‘You’d damned well better.’ Howard was furious. ‘She’s part of our lives, and she’s a part of us. For years she’s cooked our meals, helped us, and loved us. Don’t you ever speak to her like that again. Now
you
can paint that damned wall!’

Ben didn’t demur at the rebuke, knowing it was well justified. He was as angry with himself as Howard was. She had never done anything to deserve that rudeness from him, and he was at a complete loss to understand what had come over him just lately.

Amy caught the bus, paid her fare, and sat looking out of the window, stunned. What had she done to make him treat her like that? He had always been
kind to her, laughing and teasing in his gentle way, but the man confronting her just now was someone she didn’t know. Had he guessed that her feelings for him had changed, and she was now looking at the mature man with a deeper affection? She wasn’t going to admit it was anything more than that – not after the way he had treated her. And anyway, he couldn’t have, because she was treating him the same as always. She had been very, very careful not to let her feelings show.

She stared out at the people walking along, fighting to keep her tears at bay. He couldn’t have any idea how much he had hurt her. Something was troubling him, but what? She’d believed he was well on the way to recovery, but he obviously wasn’t, and seemed to be getting worse. It was very worrying.

Amy let herself into the house quietly and went straight to her room. The curtains had been drawn, and in the half-light she could see her daughter was still asleep. Without disturbing her, she sat in the chair beside the bed, leant back her head and closed her eyes, taking this chance to have a moment of peace and quiet.

Her thoughts turned to John, as they often did when she was troubled. He had been such a solid, sensible, dependable man; how she had adored him. The fact that they’d had so little time together still hurt, even after all these years. It had taken ages, but she had eventually come to terms with the loss, but she knew she would never forget him. He would
always be a part of her and their lovely daughter. After the birth of Grace, she had moved on, as she’d had to, determined to make a good life for the two of them, but it had been a mighty struggle. The next most important man in her life was Ben, and she had always believed he would be her friend, someone she could turn to for help and comfort. But after the open hostility he had shown her today, she was no longer sure of that. He had
never
looked at her, or spoken to her, like that before. There had been anger in his eyes, as if he couldn’t stand the sight of her. Something had changed between them, and not for the better. It made her desperately sad, and she didn’t know how to deal with it.

‘Mummy?’

‘I’m here, darling.’ She was immediately bending over the bed, smiling. ‘You’ve had a nice sleep. How do you feel?’

‘A bit better, but I don’t like this.’

‘No one likes being ill, but once you’re better, you’ll forget all about it.’ She sat on the bed and gathered Grace into her arms. ‘Would you like us to go and stay with Granny and Grandpa when the spots have all gone?’

‘Yes please.’ This produced a faint smile. ‘Would you put some more stuff on me? I itch again.’

After pulling the curtains back to let in the light, Amy used the lotion Chrissie had brought with her. It did seem to be helping.

‘Can I have these off now, please?’ Grace held up
her hands. ‘I promise not to scratch. I’ll be a good girl.’

Amy swallowed hard. ‘You’re always a good girl, darling,’ she said, giving her a teasing smile as she removed the little gloves. ‘Well, nearly always. Are you hungry?’

‘A bit. Is there any jelly left?’

‘Yes, we made one just for you. Would you like a glass of milk as well?’

‘Please.’

‘I won’t be a minute.’ Amy left the room and went to the kitchen, where Chrissie was helping Mrs Dalton to prepare dinner.

‘Amy!’ Chrissie looked surprised. ‘We didn’t hear you come back. You weren’t at the shop long.’

Smiling brightly she opened the larder. ‘They had everything under control and didn’t need me, so I came back rather than get in their way. Grace wants more jelly, and a glass of milk.’

‘I can’t imagine the men turning down an offer of help.’ Mrs Dalton frowned as she poured milk into a glass. ‘They must have been in a generous mood.’

‘They must have been,’ was all Amy said before she hurried back to Grace. She didn’t want to be cross-examined about why she had come straight back. It hurt too much at the moment. If it had been anyone else who had spoken sharply to her, she would have either ignored it, or laughed it off, but she couldn’t do that with Ben. He meant too much to her.

Grace was sitting up in bed when she returned, much brighter. She finished the jelly with obvious enjoyment and guzzled the milk until the glass was empty. It was a good sign, and Amy was hopeful she would eat something more substantial soon.

‘Will you tell me a story about fairies?’

‘Not the dragons today?’

‘No, let’s make up a different story this time.’

‘Hmm, let me see.’ Amy gazed into space, then began. ‘Once upon a time there was a little girl who lived in a wooden hut on the edge of a forest by a beautiful babbling brook. Everyone said she was a fairy, but she didn’t believe that, because she didn’t have any wings…’

42

Mother and daughter were too engrossed in the story to notice Ben standing in the doorway. The breath left his lungs at the picture they made. There were two unruly mops of hair close together, Amy’s soft voice telling a tale, and Grace enthusiastically adding her own ideas as they went along. Ben didn’t think he had ever seen, or heard, anything so beautiful.

In that instant he acknowledged that which he had been trying to block out ever since his return. That first meeting with her had shaken him, and there was no use denying it any longer. He loved her, deeply and irrevocably.

Stifling a groan of dismay, he stepped back and closed the door quietly, leaning against the wall with head back and eyes closed. What a damnable thing to have happened. Their relationship had always been a close friendship, without a hint of sexual desire, but that was no longer the case, as far as he was concerned. He wanted to hold her, kiss her and run his hands over her lovely petite body. He ground his teeth. He wanted her in his bed. He wanted her and Grace to be his to love and look after. But Amy would never accept him in that way, so he must keep his distance, and his desires in check. He had been
snapping at her in self-defence. That was another thing he must control.

What a tangle! That prisoner-of-war camp had really messed up his emotions. Pushing away from the wall, he returned to the kitchen.

‘There you are, Benjamin.’ Mrs Dalton pursed her lips. ‘Ted tells me you are in a bad mood.’

‘Sorry.’ He shrugged. ‘I’ve been snapping at everyone. It must be the long hours we’ve been putting in at the shop.’

‘All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.’ She waved a serving spoon at him as she quoted one of her famous sayings. ‘It’s time you went out and started enjoying yourself again.’

‘Come dancing with us tonight,’ Chrissie suggested.

‘Not unless you can find me a pretty nurse as a partner.’

‘I might be able to manage that. I’ll nip along to the phone box and see if I can catch Paula. Luckily, she’s on the phone at home.’ Taking coins from her purse, she hurried off.

She was back within ten minutes. ‘She’ll meet us at Hammersmith at half past eight.’

‘I was only joking, Chrissie.’

‘Too bad, Ben, you’ve got to come now.’

Howard was grinning at his friend. ‘Looks like you’ve got yourself a blind date.’

‘Yeah.’

‘Don’t look so worried,’ Chrissie chided. ‘She’s a
nice girl, and quite tall, so she should suit you as a dance partner.’

Knowing he was cornered, he tried to look happy about it, but in truth he hadn’t expected her to be able to do anything about it at such short notice. He couldn’t seem to do anything right at the moment. And he didn’t want some tall, unknown girl in his arms. He wanted the small woman in the other room, and her delightful child.

‘Benjamin, go and tell Amy we’re about to dish up the dinner.’

Hauling himself out of the chair, he walked out of the kitchen and along the hall, stopping at Amy’s door. This time, he knocked softly before turning the handle.

They were still in the same position, and it felt as if something was squeezing his heart as he gazed at them. Amy was considering him warily; Grace was smiling at him, her little face covered in dabs of white lotion. He only just stopped himself from striding over and gathering them both to him to tell them how much he loved them. Instead, drawing in a deep, silent breath, he walked towards the bed, his movements unhurried.

‘Uncle Ben.’ Grace held up her hands. ‘Mummy’s taken off my gloves now.’

‘Oh, that’s better then, isn’t it?’ As Grace nodded, he reached out to touch Amy’s arm, but let his hand drop to his side before touching her. ‘Dinner’s ready.’

‘Thank you,’ she said politely, looking back at her daughter. ‘Would you like something to eat?’

Grace thought about this for a moment. ‘Hmm, could I have mashed potatoes and gravy? And perhaps I could manage a sausage, as well.’

Ben didn’t miss the relief that flooded across Amy’s face, knowing the child had eaten very little over the last three days.

He spoke to Grace. ‘I want to paint a picture of you and Mummy together, for the gallery when we open. I’ll start on it tomorrow.’

‘Ooh, but I’ve got spots, Uncle Ben.’

‘I won’t paint them.’ He smoothed her untidy hair away from her face, smiling down at her earnest little face. ‘There won’t be a spot in sight.’

Grace sighed. ‘I’ll be glad when they’ve gone.’

‘It won’t be long, darling.’ Amy swung her legs off the bed and stood up. ‘Once you start eating properly again, they’ll soon disappear. So, one plate of sausage and mash coming right up.’

Ben caught Amy before she reached the kitchen. ‘I’m sorry about this afternoon. Please forgive me. I had no reason or right to talk to you like that.’ Her expression changed from wary to a bright smile, making his heart thud.