Such Sweet Sorrow (30 page)
The best thing about being a member of a large family was having brothers and sisters to conspire with. Which was how Tina managed to keep the unpleasant incident in the Tumble Street café from her parents that night; the worst thing about living in a crowded house was the complete lack of privacy.
Making the excuse that she needed an early night, Tina left the kitchen soon after arriving home and searched for a quiet corner where she could read William’s latest letter in peace. The parlour as well as being out of bounds except on what her brothers referred to as ‘state occasions’ was freezing cold, and her father had commandeered the middle room, which was only marginally warmer than the parlour, to do the business accounts. There was nothing for it except to climb the stairs, but instead of going to the bedroom she shared with her four sisters, she stole along the passage and shut herself into the tiny box room that had belonged to Ronnie and later Tony. Neither twelve-year-old Alfredo nor nine-year-old Roberto had thought to stake a claim on the room as yet, and as she looked at the single bed, chest of drawers, narrow wardrobe and two square feet of bare linoleum around the door, the only clear floor space, she was sorely tempted to make a bid for it herself. Sharing a room with four sisters was enough to try the patience of a saint, and she was growing more demon-like with every day she ran the restaurant.
Sitting on the bed she pulled down the blackout, switched on the rickety lamp Ronnie had made from a wine bottle and removed the promisingly fat wad of writing paper from the envelope Eddie had given her. Although she had read the first page before the fight in the café had disturbed her, she began to read it again from the very beginning, lingering over and cherishing every precious word.
My darling Tina,
Eddie has just come into camp on his way home on special leave. He has gone to the canteen with Tony and Angelo, but I have decided to skip supper and stay here to write to you, because for once, my love, I will be able to send you a letter that hasn’t been censored.
Can you imagine what it’s like to know that every time I write to you, an officer is going to read what should be my most private thoughts and our secrets? Besides which, I don’t want to give the miserable, unimaginative, peanut-brained idiots any tips on how to romance girls. No self-respecting female, no matter how desperate, would go near one of our officers, she’d find more excitement in a nunnery. Funny, telling you exactly what I think of the clowns in charge of us wasn’t nearly as much fun as I thought it would be.
I am sorry, my darling, if my letters have been distant and cold. There was so much that I wanted to put into them, but I only had to imagine one of the stupid crache who order us around smirking as he censored what I’d written, to end up writing about what we’d had for tea, or the latest scores in the nightly card game.
I know it’s unfair on you, especially when I read yours. You write so well about what’s going on at home I only have to close my eyes to imagine myself back in the Tumble café with you sitting next to me.
I never thought I’d envy Eddie, but tomorrow he’ll be in Pontypridd and I won’t. He’ll be able to see you, hug you, kiss you (not on the mouth or I’ll brain him) and talk to you for as long as he likes. I can hardly believe it’s only four weeks since I left. It seems like half a lifetime, and that’s when we’re still more or less in the same country. (We’re bound to take over England one day, if the English here are anything to go by they’re all half-wits.) I dread to think what it’s going to be like when I’m in France.
I remember that last night we spent together often, especially after lights out when all the camp is in darkness and it feels as though the whole world is sleeping except me. Then I wonder why I pushed you away when I did. Believe me, I certainly wouldn’t be capable of doing it now.
I was so worried about doing the right thing I messed up the little time we had. Can you forgive me? All I could think about was not wanting to leave you widowed with young children like my mother. I don’t think she ever really recovered from my father’s death, but now I can see that at least they had one another for a while. If I’d had the sense to talk to her about it, I think she would have told me that she wouldn’t have wanted her life to have been any different, because when she does talk about my father it’s always about the happy times. Is that what you were trying to tell me? That it’s better to have a little time together as husband and wife, than no time at all?
The more I think about it, and the more I talk to the married boys in camp, especially the ones from London who’ve left their wives and children in what must be Hitler’s prime target areas, the more confused I get. One of the boys managed to wangle a forty-eight-hour pass last week so he could get married. His girlfriend’s in the family way, and he’s quite open and unashamed about it, telling everyone that it’s no one’s business but theirs. When war was declared both of them decided to live every minute come what may, because no one can be sure just who’s going to live or die in this war, especially if Hitler starts bombing our cities which everyone here seems to expect him to do.
Reading back over this, I don’t know if I’m making any sense to you? I’m not even sure I’m making sense to myself, and I swear I haven’t had a drink yet today, although we’re all going down the local tonight in honour of Eddie’s arrival.
What I’m trying to say, my darling, is how do you feel about a wedding on my next leave?
The problem is, despite all the promises they made in the recruiting office about leave after six weeks’ training, no one really knows when we’ll be able to get home next. It depends more on the availability of transports and the need for reinforcements in France, than any plans us poor squaddies might want to make.
Think about it carefully, darling, and let me know what you decide. If you’ve changed your mind and don’t want us to marry until the war is over, I’ll respect your decision and won’t mention it again until after the peace treaties have been signed. I know it’s the sensible thing to do, but when it comes to you, I’m afraid love and separation are driving any sense I ever had from my mind.
I’d give a month’s pay to be coming home with Eddie. I can’t wait to hold you, kiss you – and do a whole lot more. Promise me, that when I next walk through the door of the café, you’ll close it so we can go somewhere quiet where we can be completely alone for as many hours as I have leave.
I can hear voices. That means that your brothers and Eddie are coming back to drag me off to the pub. I’d much rather stay here and carry on writing to you, but I know that if I did, I’d only repeat everything I’ve already written.
Tina, know that I love you with all my heart, miss you with every breath I take, and can’t wait until you’re in my arms again. And if you agree to marry me on my next leave, you’ll make me the happiest man alive. Please send a letter back with Eddie.
Your own, very loving, Will
*……*……*
If letters could be worn out by reading them, Tina would have destroyed William’s in the following hour. She read and reread every word until she had committed the pages to memory.
She heard Gina walk up the stairs and whisper her name, but she kept the door closed and Gina didn’t think to look for her in the box room. Eventually the bedsprings creaked and she realised that her sister had gone to bed without her. Her parents followed soon afterwards. And still she sat on the narrow bed, hugging her letter to herself, her thoughts centred on William and the wonderful revelation that not only did he love her with all his heart, miss her with every breath, but on his next leave he would marry her, and then, no matter what, they’d truly belong to one another – for always.
Eddie was woken by birdsong. Somewhere behind the blackout, dawn had broken. He felt as though he had closed his eyes only ten minutes before. As he bent his head to Jenny’s to kiss her, yet again, a key was inserted in the lock downstairs.
‘It’s morning,’ Jenny whispered in dismay. ‘We didn’t make the night last for ever.’
‘We have tonight,’ he smiled lazily as he rolled back on to his own pillows.
‘And after tonight?’
‘Memories until the next time.’
‘You think I’m likely to forget this after the next leave?’ She snuggled her head down on to his chest.
‘I’d say that depends on what we do on the next leave.’
‘I wish you didn’t have to go.’
‘I’ve a war to win.’
‘Try and make it soon.’ She turned on her side and looked down at him, her face pale in the light of the bedside lamp they had allowed to burn all night.
He glanced at the clock. ‘It’s wonderful to lie in bed and not wait for the sound of a bugle call.’
‘You want to sleep?’ Mischief glowed in her eyes as her hands wandered beneath the sheet.
‘What’s that?’ he asked, steeling his muscles against her touch.
‘You’re not going to fool me into giving you the advantage,’ she laughed. as she continued to tickle him.
‘Someone’s knocking.’
‘Let them, the girl will open the shop soon.’
‘It’s not the shop door, it’s the one downstairs.’ Sliding out from under her, he left the bed. ‘I’ll go.’
‘Not as you are. You’ll cause a riot.’
‘There’ll only be miners around at this time in the morning.’
‘And Judy in the shop,’ she reminded him.
He pulled on his uniform trousers and buttoned the fly. ‘Just a minute,’ he shouted as he opened the door and padded down the stairs on bare feet. His father was waiting in the hallway.
‘Telegram came for you, Eddie.’
Eddie took it and ripped it open.
‘You have to report back immediately?’
‘How do you know?’
‘If Norway and Denmark was the end of the phoney war, Hitler’s invasion of Holland and Belgium has to be the beginning of serious hostilities in Europe.’
‘From what I’ve heard no one’s expecting the Dutch and Belgians to hold out. After all, they didn’t last time. It was us and the French then, and it will be us and the French now.’
‘But don’t you see, as soon as Rider has occupied the lowlands he’ll turn all his attention, and troops, to France.’
‘Well, it was too much to expect the War Office to keep paying us to sit on our backsides in France doing nothing for ever.’ He read the telegram again, focusing on the words ‘without delay’. He knew what they meant in military terms. ‘I’d better dress.’
‘Eddie?’ his father laid a restraining hand on his arm.
‘Everything is all right, isn’t it?’
‘It will be when I get back. Don’t worry, we’ll stop the Jerry bastards.’
‘I wasn’t talking about the war.’
‘That is the only thing that’s wrong, isn’t it?’
His father smiled. ‘I’m glad to hear it.’
Ignoring his father’s filthy, coal-impregnated clothes, Eddie hugged him, raising clouds of dust as he patted his shoulders. ‘Do me a favour, Dad. Look after Jenny for me.’
‘Just as we have been. And you look after yourself. Do you hear?’
‘As if the Nazi who came near me would have a chance.’
‘War’s a bit different to boxing, you know.’
‘I know,’ Eddie answered quietly. ‘They’ve been training me for it harder than Joey Rees ever did in the gym.’
Eddie took a deep breath before he opened the bedroom door.
‘What’s wrong?’ Jenny asked as he walked in.
‘I’ve got to go, now.’
‘But you have leave until tomorrow …’
He held up the telegram. ‘It’s cancelled, I’ve been recalled.’ He reached for his underclothes.
‘Come back to bed for just five minutes?’
He shook his head. ‘I daren’t. Knowing the army, they had a Great Western timetable in front of them when they sent this, and they’ll not give me long to get to the station. God only knows when the next train to Cardiff leaves, but I’d better be on it.’
‘No time for breakfast?’
‘No time for anything.’ He leaned on the bed and kissed her.
She grabbed her dress. ‘I’ll cut some sandwiches, and come down to the station with you.’
‘We could be hanging around for some time.’
‘I don’t care. I’d rather stay with you as long as I can, than sit around here moping and thinking about you. I could even get a ticket to Cardiff and travel with you as far as there.’ She stared at him defiantly, daring him to say otherwise.
‘I’d like that,’ he smiled, ‘but you’ll have to keep reminding me that we’re in public.’
‘Tina, have you got a letter ready for William?’
Tina stared at Jenny in bewilderment. ‘No, I thought I had plenty of time. Eddie isn’t going until tomorrow.’
‘He’s been recalled.’
‘To France?’
‘No one knows, but it looks likely.’ Jenny lowered her voice and looked around nervously for potential fifth columnists who might be listening in on their conversation.
‘But ,that means Will and the boys could be going …’
‘Eddie doesn’t know anything, only that he has to report back to camp immediately.’
Tina remembered the news broadcast she had listened to that morning. Her father’s warning that the German invasion of the lowlands might mean the boys going directly to France with no home leave.
‘Eddie’s going now?’
‘The Cardiff train leaves in ten minutes. He went to the booking office to get me a ticket while I came here. I’ll have to go or I’ll miss it.’
‘Wait!’ Tina threw her keys at the senior girl behind the cake counter. ‘Take over for me. Tell the cook to lock up, and check that he does everything I normally do, I’ll pay you ten bob extra if it’s done properly. You’re in charge.’ Grabbing her handbag and ringing open the till she scooped all the notes and a handful of silver into her purse. ‘If you run out of change send up to my sister on the Tumble.’
‘Tina, what are you doing?’ Jenny asked in bewilderment.
‘Going to camp with Eddie.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, they won’t let you see William …’
‘There’s no time to argue.’ She pushed Jenny out through the door. ‘Come on, let’s go. And I promise not to sit in the same carriage as you and Eddie on the way to Cardiff. In fact, if you like I’ll promise not to talk to him until we’re at the camp.’
