The Pearl Locket (17 page)

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Authors: Kathleen McGurl

BOOK: The Pearl Locket
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‘I’ll go with you.’ Kelly came downstairs, untying her apron and with a cardigan now on over her dress.

That was a surprise, after Kelly’s outburst of a few minutes earlier. But Ali had to admit she’d be grateful for the company and support. ‘Thanks, love. Fetch her coat and handbag, will you? Looks like we’re almost ready to go.’

Kelly fidgeted in the cheap plastic chair. You’d think they’d supply more comfortable ones in hospital waiting rooms. This one was doing her back in. She was beginning to regret having offered to come with Mum and Great-gran to the hospital, but at least it had got her away from the house. And she had been worried about Great-gran. What on earth had happened to make her collapse like that? She may be frail and old but she never just fell like that, or passed out, or had a fit or whatever it was. It was something to do with the house. Kelly knew it. Perhaps Great-gran had felt that spooky weird feeling she often felt. Joan’s presence.

She looked at Ali. Her face was drawn and worried, and she was picking at the rim of her polystyrene teacup, gradually reducing it to tiny white balls, which she dropped into the dregs of the tea. ‘What do you think they’re doing now?’ she asked.

‘More tests of some sort, I suppose. We’ll be allowed in to see her soon. God, I hope she’s all right.’

‘She will be, Mum. It’s just that house that—’ Kelly broke off as Mum glared at her. She wouldn’t listen. She never listened. Kelly rolled her eyes.

‘Sorry, love. I just don’t want to hear your theories about the house right now. Not with Gran lying there hooked up to drips and God knows what. It just doesn’t help. I’m glad you came here with me, though. I’d have been in pieces sitting here on my own. Ooh, hey, think I got a text. Maybe it’s your dad…’ She took out her phone and read the text. ‘Dad’s outside trying to get a car park ticket but he has no money. Do me a favour, love, and run outside to give him some change?’ She pulled her purse from her bag and emptied a handful of coins into Kelly’s hands.

‘Sure, will do, Mum. Back soon, then.’ Kelly got up, stretched her aching back and walked quickly along the corridor towards the main hospital entrance. The car park was opposite, and she could just see Dad standing by the pay-and-display machine. She jogged over to him and gave him the money.

‘Thanks, Kelly. How is she?’ said Pete as he fed the coins into the machine.

‘Having tests. We haven’t been able to sit with her yet. Mum’s pretty upset. She’ll be glad you’re here.’

‘I couldn’t believe it when Jason told me. Poor Mrs E.’ Kelly followed him to the car to put the ticket inside, then showed him the way into the hospital.

‘Follow that corridor towards A&E. There’s a waiting room on the left. Mum’s there. I’ll just go and get you both a cup of tea. Won’t be long.’

‘You’re the best daughter.’ Dad gave her a squeeze before striding off in the direction she’d indicated.

Was she, though? She headed towards the bank of vending machines, fed in a pound coin and selected tea with milk, no sugar. If she stayed here at the hospital now, she’d end up going back to the house with her parents later that evening. That bloody house and its ghosts. After what had happened to Great-gran she didn’t think she could bear going back. She put the first cup of tea to one side and selected the same again. But what else could she do?

If only there was somewhere else she could stay. Just for a while, until she got her head straight. Sometimes it felt as though she was going mad in that house, with voices in her head and the feeling that someone was looking over her shoulder all the time. And she’d never even had the chance to ask Great-gran more about what happened to Joan. No, she didn’t want to go back there tonight. The second cup of tea was dispensed, and she removed it from the machine and put it beside the first. A third, for herself? Or not? No. She didn’t want tea. She wanted to get away. And not go home. An idea struck her. On impulse she left the cups of tea on a table beside the vending machine, walked back towards the main entrance, and jumped into the first available taxi.

Chapter Sixteen

April 1944

How could it be the last evening of Jack’s leave already? It didn’t seem five minutes since Joan had met him at the station, and here she was walking along the prom to meet him at ‘their’ bench for their last few hours together. Jack had to leave in the morning, on the first train out. Joan was trying to live in the moment, as he’d said she must, but it was so hard, knowing their parting this evening would be the last time she would see him for ages. As if in sympathy, the weather, which had been so good throughout his leave, had turned. There was a chill breeze and a light drizzle. She shivered. It wouldn’t be as pleasant sitting on the bench as it usually was. Though she’d be warm enough with Jack’s arms around her.

Jack was already there, and stood to greet her.

‘I’m so sorry I’m late. Mother wanted me to wash up, Father called us into the sitting room to listen to the radio news, and Betty got suspicious, threatening to tell Father I wasn’t really going to the WVS.’ Joan kissed him on the lips. ‘Still, never mind all that. I’m here now.’

Jack took her hands and sat down, pulling her close beside him. ‘I hope you don’t get into trouble on my account.’

She shook her head. ‘Mags stood up for me. She dared Betty to go and ask Mrs Atkins if she didn’t believe me. Anyway, I don’t care any more if I do get into trouble. We’re in love, we’re engaged, we’re going to be married, and before you come home the next time, I’m going to tell them all. They can’t stop us.’ She stuck her chin out defiantly.

Jack laughed. ‘That’s my girl. We have our love and each other. Nothing can stop us.’

‘Not even German soldiers,’ whispered Joan, snuggling close to him.

Jack put his finger to her lips. ‘Shh. That’s for tomorrow. We don’t think about tomorrow, remember? Now then, what would you like to do this evening? The night is young, and so are we! Shall we go to the pictures, or walk in the rain, or see if my aunt has baked a cake?’

Joan thought for a moment. This was their last evening together. She had spent much of the previous night lying awake, thinking about Jack, about how little time they’d had together, and how to make the most of what was left to them. Who knew what would happen in the future? She couldn’t bring herself to consider the worst, but it was a very real possibility. After a little more training Jack would be posted to the battlefields. She wanted to make his last evening with her special. She’d eventually drifted off to sleep having made a decision, and now it was time to tell him.

‘Jack, I want us to…to do what we would do if we were…already married.’ She felt herself blushing furiously, but forced herself to lift her head and look directly at him. He must know she meant this, she wanted this, with every part of her.

‘Joan, what are you saying? We can’t… We should wait…’

She shook her head. ‘No, let’s not wait. There’s a war on, and we must make the most of every opportunity. We must live in the moment—you said so yourself. We don’t know what will happen next, and we mustn’t waste the chances we have. I’ve thought this through, Jack, honestly I have. I know, without a doubt, it’s what I want. Don’t you want it, too?’

His mouth had dropped open as she spoke. She almost couldn’t believe it herself; who’d have thought she could be so forward? But it felt so right. They were meant to be together. In peacetime they’d have waited until they married, but this wasn’t peacetime and there were no signs that the war would end soon.

‘Oh, Joan, my dear sweet girl! Of course I want to, with you. I just need to be certain that you are certain…’

In answer she leaned in and kissed him, long and deep, pressing herself against him. She could feel him tense against her, his mouth on hers more urgent, and she felt herself respond.

But all too soon he pushed her away. ‘Darling, not here. The rain is getting heavier, and who knows if someone might come along.’

‘Where, then?’

He thought for a moment, his gaze fixed on the meeting of sea and sky. ‘I know. Follow me. I don’t know how comfortable we’ll be but…’ He stood up and held out his hand to her.

Joan grinned and took his offered hand, allowing him to pull her to her feet. Who cared about comfort if you were in the arms of the man you loved with all your heart?

The air-raid shelter was in the back garden of an empty house. It was an Anderson shelter, half buried in the earth, with a rough wooden door. Inside was damp, but they were sheltered from the rain. There was a low wooden bench along one side, on which a couple of woollen blankets were folded. Jack found a paraffin lantern and some matches under the bench.

‘Perfect,’ said Joan. ‘We have all we need.’

Jack shook his head. ‘Not quite. I know—would you mind just walking once around the block while I make things ready? This is our first time. It has to be right.’ He kissed her, and gave her a gentle push out of the shelter.

Joan giggled, feeling nervous now that the moment was near. She retraced their steps across the back garden of the house, down the side passage and out to the street. She hoped no one had seen them go in. The worst thing would be for them to be interrupted. She walked to the end of the road and back. She was about to cross a line—there would be no going back once this was done. She would be a woman, and for better or for worse she would belong to Jack.

The shelter was in the garden of a house not far from Jack’s aunt’s. The house, so Jack had told her as they walked there from the prom, belonged to an elderly couple whose son had been killed in France the previous year. His wife had been left with four young children, and the couple had moved to Shropshire to help her with them. Joan glanced up at the boarded-up windows, and wondered if the couple would ever be able to move back. Perhaps they could bring their daughter-in-law and grandchildren to live here, once the war ended. It would be nice for the children to be beside the sea.

Jack waved to her from the side passage. She took a deep breath, and followed him back to the shelter.

Inside, he’d laid out the blankets to make a bed on the floor. The lamp was lit, casting a warm glow over everything. Flowers—primula, thrift, forget-me-not—were strewn along the bench, delicately scenting the air. He’d removed his jacket, and made a pillow out of it.

‘I thought they wouldn’t mind if we took a few flowers. They’re growing wild in the garden,’ he said.

Joan smiled. He looked as nervous as she felt. ‘It’s beautiful. Come here; kiss me.’

He stepped forward and took her in his arms. She relaxed against him and her nerves dissipated immediately. Being in his arms felt so right. She belonged there. They kissed, and she ran her hands over his back, relishing the feel of his muscles through his thin shirt. He shuddered at her touch, and pulled her closer. His own hands explored her shoulders, neck, and down, brushing her breasts lightly, sending a tingle down her spine. She groaned, and he let go of her. ‘What’s wrong? If you’ve changed your mind, that’s all right of course. We can just…’

‘I haven’t changed my mind, my love.’ She slipped off her coat and pulled him down onto the makeshift bed he’d made for them. Soon they were unclothed and between the blankets. A thought flitted through Joan’s mind—what would Mags say when she told her? And immediately a second thought—she would not tell Mags, or anyone. This was for her and Jack alone to know about. She was brought back to the moment by Jack’s touch, delicate and light, but sending shivers throughout her body. Funny how although she’d never done anything like this before, she instinctively knew what to do and how to respond to him.

He hesitated once again before entering her. ‘You’re sure?’

She smiled and pulled him onto her. ‘I’ve never been more sure of anything, Jack.’

It was magical. She felt as though she’d been living in a dream, and only now was she fully alive. Past and future melted away; there was only the moment they were in. The air-raid shelter, its muddy floor, corrugated iron roof and rough bench, faded into the distance, leaving just the two of them, entwined in the blankets and each other’s arms. Nothing mattered any more, only Jack and her and this wonderful, intense feeling of absolute joy mingled with deep, pure love.

Afterwards, she lay in his arms, and they pulled their coats on top of the blankets for extra warmth. ‘You’ll have to go soon,’ Jack murmured. ‘Don’t be late home. I don’t want to let you go, but you mustn’t get into trouble.’

‘I don’t care,’ Joan replied. ‘Nothing else matters, only us. Let’s stay here, all night.’

‘But what will your family say? They’ll worry about you.’

‘I’ll think of something to tell them. Perhaps I’ll even tell them the truth. Don’t fret about it, Jack.’ She snuggled closer, laying her head on his shoulder. She felt so warm, loved, protected. If only this night could last for always, and they could stay here, in their own little world, together, for ever.

Chapter Seventeen

October 2014

Kelly slammed the taxi door, leaned forward and gave the driver an address. Not her parents’ address. She couldn’t go back there. But there was one place she thought she might feel safe. It was a bit of a gamble perhaps, but she had to try it. Luckily there was a tenner in her cardigan pocket. It might not be enough to get her there, but it would do for now.

The taximeter read £11.40 by the time it pulled up outside the familiar semi-detached house.

‘Uh, I’ve only got ten pounds on me,’ Kelly stuttered, as the taxi driver glared at her. ‘Hold on while I knock on the door. I should be able to borrow the rest from my, uh, friend.’

‘Please be in, please be in,’ Kelly muttered, as she hurried up the garden path. If he wasn’t, she was in big trouble. Miles from home, no money, no phone, and in any case, she didn’t want to go home. She rang the doorbell with crossed fingers.

Someone was coming to the door, thank goodness. But was it him, or one of his parents? She peered through the frosted glass trying to make out who the blurred figure was. The door opened.

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