Spoils of War (45 page)

‘Were there more?’

‘A few passing encounters.’

‘Is that your way of telling me they didn’t mean anything.’

‘It was sex. Which is rarely pure and never simple. You know boys, Beth, or you should. You were fighting them off when I met you. The first Pontypridd hospital ball I went to I watched you tip a glass of orange juice over Glan Richards to cool his ardour.’

‘That was an accident.’

‘Neither he nor I believed you.’

‘Whether you did or didn’t, it’s the truth.’

He sat down and took out his pipe but made no attempt to fill it. She sat on the floor in front of the fire and leaned back against his legs.

‘But you wanted to sleep with those women.’

‘Apart from Two-Ton Tompkins, I thought so at the time.’

‘And since you married me? The truth, Andrew. Have you ever looked at another woman and thought, yes, I’d like to know what she looks like naked, smell her perfume, find out how she makes love?’

‘Beth, why are you asking me this?’

‘Because I want to know.’

‘I admit, occasionally I fantasise. I’m no different to any other man in that respect.’

‘Would it surprise you to know that women do it too. Clark Gable, Robert Taylor, David Niven …’

‘David Ford?’

‘If we hadn’t married or had the children, I might have been tempted to have had a fling with him. But the one thing I’ve discovered in the last few years is that you can’t live your life backwards. You were the first and you’re still the only man I’ve ever slept with. For five and a half years I missed you and sometimes – just occasionally during that time and before, if I’m totally honest – I wondered what it would be like to sleep with another man. To be truthful, I still do but that doesn’t mean I want to or will. Because I know it would hurt you and the guilt would destroy me and what’s left of our marriage.’

‘So you’d sleep with David Ford if you could manage it without hurting me or feeling guilty?’

‘You’ve missed the point. I would have had an affair with him if there hadn’t been a you and the children but there is a you and the children. I’ve been selfish, Andrew. Most days during the war I was so damned tired after nursing all day, coming home and spending time with the children and doing everything else that needed to be done, fantasising about making love was the last thing on my mind. But if I needed someone to talk to – always late at night or early in the morning because that was the only time I had – David was around, making tea. Like me, drinking anything non-alcoholic to keep himself awake so he could finish his paperwork just as I was trying to finish mine. And I think one of the reasons I wanted to keep on seeing him was because he reminded me of those times when I felt important. I was doing a job, a responsible job, then, bam, you come home, I lose the job, my feelings of importance, we have a brief honeymoon …’

‘And it’s back to the grind. No wonder you fantasise.’

‘We’re going to have to learn to be selfish, you and I.’ She unfastened her blouse and slipped it from her shoulders. ‘This rug is thick and the fire is warm.’ Reaching up, she unbuttoned his fly.

‘Is the door locked?’

‘Yes, and it’s going to be locked at least two evenings a week from now on.’

‘Beth,’ he gripped her hand as she slipped his belt from its loop, ‘am I second-best?’

‘Never,’ she lied. She lay back, pulling him towards her. ‘We have a lot of work to do, you and I, but if we try very hard perhaps we can transform some of it into pleasure.’

‘I love you, Beth.’

‘And I love you, Andrew. No more jealousy?’

‘That, my love, is one thing I can’t promise you.’

Chapter Twenty-three

‘They’ve come to say good night.’ Holding Billy and Catrina’s hands firmly so they wouldn’t jump on the bed, Ronnie led them to Diana’s bedside. Setting aside the photograph album she’d been studying, Diana held out her arms as Ronnie lifted them one at a time to kiss her.

‘Daddy reads stories faster than you,’ Billy complained. ‘And he tries to leave out bits.’

‘And he goes to sleep and snores.’

‘I didn’t tonight, Catrina,’ Ronnie protested mildly.

‘You do most nights.’ Billy crossed his arms mutinously.

‘I’ll take over.’

‘Not for a week or two you won’t. Right you two snitching little menaces, you’ve had your kiss and cuddle, off you go to your own room. Granny is waiting.’ Ronnie hugged them before they scampered down the landing to where Megan was standing with hot-water bottles tucked under her arm.

‘Time to sleep, sweetheart.’ He smoothed the hair away from Diana’s forehead and dropped a kiss on the scar on her temple.

Diana stared up at him; he seemed so tall, so strong and so incongruous and out of place in the intimate setting of her bedroom, she couldn’t begin to imagine living in the same house as him, let alone lying beside him every night. ‘Where are you sleeping?’

‘The boxroom. If I wasn’t, I think Andrew would fly down Penycoedcae Hill and drag you back into the Graig Hospital even at this time of night.’

‘But we can talk for a while.’

‘Andrew warned us that you’ve had more than enough excitement for one day. Besides, much as I hate to admit it, you look exhausted.’

‘That’s because I can’t stop thinking about all the things you haven’t told me.’

‘Di, the only thing you have to worry about is getting better.’

‘I won’t sleep until I get a few more answers.’

He hesitated for a moment. ‘All right, you can have ten minutes.’ She winced as he sat at the foot of the bed. ‘Oh God! I hurt you!’

‘No. It was only a shooting pain in my arm; I get them once in a while. We don’t live here, do we?’

‘No. We moved into Laura’s house after we married and you carried on living there while I was in the army but we can’t go back there. Laura and Trevor will be home soon and the children need to be looked after …’

‘I’ll soon be able to do that.’

‘Not yet. I’ve talked to your mother and Dino, and although they’re practically honeymooners they insist they’re happy for us to stay here until you’re on your feet. They must really enjoy having the children to put up with me living here as well but then they’re nice people.’

‘So we’re going to stay here?’

‘Only until you’re well enough to move out. I’ve been on the lookout for a house to buy but I admit I haven’t put much effort into hunting one down because I wanted you to choose it with me.’

‘We have enough money to buy a house?’

‘For anything you want – within reason.’

‘Something close to here. I wouldn’t like to move too far away from my mother.’

‘I’ll start knocking doors in the street tomorrow to see if I can persuade someone to move out.’ He glanced down at the album. ‘Bethan had a word with me about that.’

‘We looked so happy.’

‘We are so happy.’

‘I can’t –’

He laid his finger over her lips. ‘‘‘Remember.’’ Stop saying that. You should be happy now. What more could a woman want than flowers, chocolates, a doting mother, beautiful children, caring friends and family and an extremely loving husband – or one who will be when he gets the chance to show it.’

‘It must be just as odd for you, having a wife who can’t remember marrying you.’

‘I’m so grateful that I still have you, I couldn’t care less whether all the pieces in your brain are working or not.’ Reaching out he ran his fingers lightly along the contour of her face from her eye to her jaw. She clamped her hand over his. ‘That feels familiar.’

‘I promise you, there will be all sorts of other things that will seem familiar too.’

‘Such as?’

‘It’s easier to show you.’ Kicking off his shoes, he moved up the bed and lay on top of the bedclothes next to her. Sliding his arm beneath her, he pillowed her head on his shoulder. ‘You’re trembling. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be here, I’m going too quickly.’ He moved to sit up.

‘Please, don’t …’

‘Di, it’s obvious you’re uncomfortable with me.’

‘I’m not used to having strange men in my bed.’

‘I thought you might remember – there’s that word again and now it’s me who’s using it.’

‘What sort of things did we do when we were married?’

‘Lie like this for hours, just talking, which is why I thought it was a good idea to come down here. And please note we’re on different levels. I’m not in your bed but on it.’

Feeling distinctly uneasy she had to make a conscious effort to keep her voice steady. ‘What sort of things did we talk about?’

‘Billy, what his future would be, and later, when you were pregnant, what Catrina would be like. You wanted another boy but I think only because you’d decided I did. I wanted a girl and I was so angry when I was conscripted a couple of weeks before she was born. But,’ he smiled wryly, ‘nowhere near as angry as you.’ He stroked her hair as he smiled at the memory. ‘And after we finished planning the children’s lives we’d start on our own. We never envisaged anything spectacular happening, just talked about what it would be like when the war was finally over and everything was back to normal so we could get on with family life – doing family things together – being happy.’

‘Like now.’

‘Our lives are hardly normal now, Di.’

‘No, I suppose they aren’t.’ Reassured, because he hadn’t tried to kiss her or make love to her, she dared to rest her hand on his chest, feeling his heart beating beneath her palm. ‘I do remember a few things that we haven’t talked about.’

‘Such as.’

‘Billy’s real father. That fight you had with Tony before my accident, it was because of me, wasn’t it?’

‘No, I was furious with him for being in our house and refusing to go when you asked him to. I wish to God I’d never laid a hand on him,’ he murmured fervently. ‘If I hadn’t you wouldn’t have gone through that window …’

‘He must feel awful about it.’

‘He! Tony! Are you insane? He could have killed you, Diana, and damned near did. The fact that you’re alive is solely down to Andrew and Bethan’s skill and their quick thinking. Have you any idea how close you came to dying?’ He snapped his fingers. ‘That close, and can you imagine what that was like for me, your mother and Billy? Catrina’s too young to know what went on but Billy isn’t. No matter how careful Megan and I were, he heard snatches of conversation no boy his age should, and he was petrified of losing you – so don’t come to me with any cock-eyed ideas of feeling sorry for my damned brother.’ He sat up furiously. Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, he reached for his cigarettes.

‘He’s still your brother, Ronnie.’

‘Not any more he isn’t.’

‘Ronnie, I could have died but I didn’t. Whatever happened that night, and I’m beginning to face up to the fact that I may never remember, can’t be worth bearing that kind of grudge.’

‘I don’t want to talk about it.’

‘I do, because I can’t understand why you married me knowing Billy was Tony’s son. Or did you know?’ she asked quietly.

‘I knew.’

‘I told you?’

‘Diana, we fell in love. You adored me.’ His tone was flippant but there was an underlying seriousness that sent her heart racing and the blood coursing headily through her veins.

‘And you,’ she tried to adopt his teasing tone, ‘did you adore me?’

‘Absolutely and completely, which is why I nearly went mad when you went through that window and probably would have if it hadn’t been for Billy and Catrina.’

‘Did I tell you about Billy before we got married?’

‘Long before.’

‘I remember Wyn saying it didn’t matter to him.’

‘And it didn’t – doesn’t – to me. No matter how many other children we have, and I hope there’ll be some, none of them could possibly be any more my son than Billy is.’

‘Some?’

‘One or two. I have no intention of following my parents’ example and having eleven. But all of that is in the future. For now,’ he rose from the bed, ‘you need to get your beauty sleep.’

‘Don’t leave just yet, Ronnie.’

‘And don’t do that to me.’

‘What?’

‘Put temptation my way. I’ve lived like a monk for two and a half years. I can’t trust myself to stay here, alone in a bedroom with you, without things happening that the doctors have warned me to leave well alone for the time being.’ He kissed her lightly on the lips.

‘That’s another thing …’

‘You married Wyn because you were terrified of making love and you knew he’d never touch you. I changed your mind about lovemaking, Di, and I’m not ashamed to say, before we were married.’

‘I wish –’

‘Look at Catrina. If ever a child was conceived in love, it was that one, once I let you have your wicked way with me.’

‘You joke a lot.’

‘Only about serious things. You’ll get used to it again. And just so you know, it was you who came to my bed, not the other way round and, before I went away, you told me you’d never regretted it.’

‘I’m beginning to believe you.’

‘It wasn’t easy to find the patience to court you slowly, Di, but last time I did it the rewards went way beyond my expectations. I’ll find that same patience again if it kills me.’

‘Bethan told me I had quite a husband.’ She gripped his hand. ‘Thank you for wanting to pick up the pieces.’

‘We’ll put a few more in place tomorrow, but now,’ he smiled at her as he moved to the door, ‘I’d better go downstairs before your mother chases me out of here with a broom handle.’ He looked back at her. ‘We have a whole lot of tomorrows to be happy in, Diana, that I thought we weren’t going to have.’

‘And Tony?’

‘I’ll think about what you said. I can’t promise to do any more. But trust me, Di, we were happy and we will be again.’

Leaving the breakfast dishes to Mrs Lane, Masha took one of the cinnamon sticks she’d found in a jar in the store cupboard and grated it over the biscuit dough she had rolled out on the kitchen table. Sorting through the cutters she’d discovered in a drawer, she studied them carefully. It had been so long since she had made biscuits. She had vague memories of the points of the star shape browning before the body of the biscuit and burning. Similarly the points of the half-moon. Eventually she settled on a round moon shape. Picking up the circular cutter she began punching biscuits, brushing them with a sugar glaze before lifting them carefully with a palette knife on to a greased baking tray.

Charlie walked in, rolling down the sleeves of his shirt. ‘Easter biscuits? It’s not Easter yet, Masha,’ he smiled, kissing her withered cheek.

‘It will be soon, and you used to say they were the best things I made.’

‘They were.’

‘I hope your other son thinks so, and that policeman who went with Pasha to the park. He might like a biscuit and a cup of tea when they return.’

‘I’m sure he will. I won’t be long. I’m just going down to get Theo, I’ll be straight back.’ Shrugging his arms into his jacket, he suddenly realised it didn’t feel quite so loose on him. He was beginning to put on weight.

‘How many potatoes would you like me to do, Mr Raschenko?’

‘Enough for three adults and one child please, Mrs Lane.’ He bent and kissed the top of Masha’s head. ‘I love you, Masha,’ he murmured in Russian.

‘And this evening we’ll talk about going back home?’

‘Pasha and I promised, but not until after I take Theo back. ’Bye, Mrs Lane.’

‘Bye, Mr Raschenko. Oh, before you go, would you ask your wife if she’d like me to put those biscuits into the oven for her?’

‘Mrs Lane wants to know if the biscuits are ready for the oven, Masha,’ he asked in Russian.

‘Please, tell her they have to cook slowly. Very slowly indeed.’

Charlie translated.

‘I’ll see to it, Mr Raschenko, don’t mind me asking but what’s in that sugar glaze? It smells wonderful and your wife seems to have made it from next to nothing.’

‘Ordinary sugar and water, Mrs Lane, with a sprinkling of cinnamon.’

‘It looks good.’

‘You’ll see how good when you taste it.’ It had been over sixteen years since he had eaten Masha’s Easter biscuits and he could hardly wait.

‘God has been good to you, Tony. You have a very beautiful bride. You must be feeling proud.’

‘Yes, Father,’ Tony mumbled, not daring to look at Gabrielle.

‘I’ll see you both for instruction on Tuesday evening at seven, and we will start calling the banns next week.’

‘Thank you, Father.’

Tony reflected that it was just as well his mother had stepped in to thank the priest, as Gabrielle appeared to be as dumbstruck as he was. Moving aside, he made room for the rest of the congregation to congratulate the father on the sermon he’d tactfully based on the theme of ‘reconciliation’ while his mother took Gabrielle back inside the church to light candles. He wondered whether he could reasonably plead pressing duty in the café to opt out of escorting his mother and Gabrielle home. He wouldn’t have even considered going to church that morning if Angelo hadn’t arrived at the café before six to roust him out of bed with strict orders from their mother that he attend eight o’clock Mass. The first person he’d seen as he’d approached the church at ten to eight was his mother, busily introducing Gabrielle to the priest and as many of the congregation as would acknowledge them.

‘Tony!’

‘Mama.’ He tried to look as though he’d been listening to every word she’d been saying.

‘I am going to Mrs Servini’s for coffee, her son will drive me home. You will walk Gabrielle back to the house?’

‘Yes, Mama.’

‘Tell Gina not to overcook the meat. It should come out of the oven at a quarter past twelve. I will be home to make the gravy.’

‘I’ll tell her.’ He held back from reminding her that Gina had cooked perfect Sunday dinners throughout the war in Danycoedcae Road without help from anyone. After Gabrielle had finished shaking hands again with every single person Father McNamara and his mother had introduced her to, Tony offered her his arm and led her away from the church down Broadway.