‘Like your money? I know you won’t talk about it, ever, though one other person knows. Y’see, when it was all over and done with and before I went back to Bletchley Park, I was given leave.’
‘Yes. I got leave, too. We wangled a night together. But who did you tell, Keth? You were taking a risk, weren’t you?’
‘Not really. It was Nathan Sutton I told. I felt so bad about it and that I was safe back in England when a whole lot of people at Clissy were almost certainly arrested and interrogated. Maybe even shot. I couldn’t square it with my conscience until I’d told someone. Nathan was a priest. We went for a walk to the top of the Pike and he got the lot. I felt better for telling him and I knew he would treat it like a confession – sacrosanct. Knowing Nathan, he wouldn’t even tell your Aunt Julia.’
‘No. Not him. But can we talk about it again, when it won’t be quite so bad for either of us? There’s so much I want to know, but my mind’s in a spin. It’s a shock, knowing we might never have married, or had Mary; that you might never have got back.’
‘Sobering thought, isn’t it? And worse than that, even, was Natasha getting the bullet that was meant for me. A bit of a lass, and far braver than I was.’
‘So that’s why you’ll go back, darling. And I want you to. Just you and your conscience and your thoughts. It’ll help. I know it will.’ She lifted his hand, kissing his palm then closing his fingers around the kiss. ‘And do you know how much I love you, Keth Purvis?’
‘As much as I love you, Daisy love. And thanks for understanding, and that it’s best I go alone – maybe after the wedding, in the Whit school holidays.’
‘Whenever, darling. But right now, will you kiss me, then hold me tightly and tell me you love me and that you’ll never do anything so stupid again.’
‘I won’t. I promise.’ He kissed her gently, then again, passionately, and she kissed him back. ‘Have we got time, darling? Before Mary wakes for her ten o’clock feed?’ she said softly, lips against his ear. Then she kissed his eyes, the tip of his nose, his mouth. ‘Have we?’ she whispered huskily.
‘That wouldn’t be coffee?’ Ewart Pryce raised an eyebrow to the percolator that slurped lazily on the stove.
‘It would. Real grounds. Got a quarter of a pound, yesterday. Things are looking up. Time for a cup?’ Anna lifted her cheek for her husband’s kiss.
‘Please. Not many in the surgery this morning, and only three visits. So what’s news?’
‘Not so good. Two bad bits in the paper. National Service increased from a year to eighteen months and the King and Queen aren’t going to Australia. Seems the King isn’t very well. Any idea what the matter is?’
‘Haven’t a clue, darling. Buckingham Palace haven’t consulted me.’ His eyes lit on the envelope and the large, old-fashioned writing in black ink. Always black ink. ‘Your mother …?’
‘Mama has decided to come to the wedding, but must decline my offer of a bed. She will be staying at Denniston House, she says, and has written to tell Tatiana. Ewart, why can’t she stay with us? Tatty is going to be busy enough without two house guests – even if they are family. Igor won’t be any trouble, but Mama will complain. She always does.’
‘She’s an old lady, darling, and she misses Russia.’
‘So do I. So does Igor, but we don’t go on and on about it. To me, Russia is a long way away and a long time away. My daughter is as English as they come, and as for myself – well, I’m happy being the wife of a country doctor, even if Mama thinks I’ve lowered myself into the middle classes.’
‘The old get bewildered, Anna. She lost her husband and a son in the uprising.’
‘Yes, thirty years ago, but she’s still in mourning. She likes being unhappy, but I’m glad she’ll be there to see her granddaughter married. Karl will look after them when Bill and Tatty leave for their honeymoon, and I’ll keep an eye on things – tactfully, of course. And I’ve got to fly, or I’ll miss the bus. Going to Creesby for a final fitting and to pick up my wedding hat.’
‘You’re looking forward to it, aren’t you, darling?’
‘I am. And if Tatty’s half as happy as I am with my middle-class marriage, she can consider herself lucky. Heavens! Is that the time! See you, Doctor dear!’
With a banging of doors she was gone, and Ewart smiled fondly, whispering, ‘And I love you too, Anastasia Aleksandrina Pryce,’ then poured himself another cup of coffee.
‘Letter from Lyn?’ Julia asked. ‘Everything all right at her end?’
‘Complications, actually,’ Drew frowned. ‘Her folks are arriving on the fifteenth of December.’
‘So what’s complicated about that?’
‘Nothing at all. She’s looking forward to seeing her mother – and her father. Be interesting, that, since she hasn’t seen him since she was a schoolgirl. Trouble is though, what with one thing and another I won’t be seeing Lyn till Tatty’s wedding. Seems she’s swapping her shifts around so she can get time off for that. Not a lot of good, this long-distance courting.’
‘So why must it always be Lyn who comes here? Hasn’t it ever occurred to you to shift yourself and go to her place? And if it’s going to use up too many petrol coupons, get yourself on the train, for heaven’s sake, like Lyn does.’
‘I’d thought about that a couple of times but decided against it. After all, Lyn lives in a little village. There’d be sure to be talk.’
‘Andrew Sutton, I don’t believe it! Girls don’t need chaperoning, now! And why are you suddenly so holier-than-thou? I’m sure Lyn wouldn’t mind losing her reputation – even if nothing happened.’
‘Now it’s my turn not to believe it! Are you suggesting a dirty weekend or something, and you a priest’s wife!’
‘Drew! I’m beginning to lose patience with you. Dirty weekend, indeed! You make it sound sordid, and it shouldn’t be. Not between you and Lyn. And did I suggest you sleep together? I merely said that you should go and see her once in a while. Why should Lyn do all the running about?’
‘I think she comes here because that’s the way she wants it.’
‘You’re sure? Has she said so?’
‘N-no. Not in so many words, but wouldn’t she ask me if she wanted me there?’
‘She’s your fiancée, Drew. Does she have to ask you?’
‘I suppose not, but – oh, hell, Mother, I don’t know. Sometimes, I just don’t know!’
He got to his feet, walking to the window, hands in pockets and Julia knew, from the set stiffness of his shoulders, that now was the time to ask.
‘Don’t know what? That everything isn’t as it should be, that you made a mistake? Is that what you’re trying to say, Drew?’
‘Of course I haven’t made a mistake. I want to marry Lyn. But does she think the same way? And I ask that because I know something isn’t quite right. She’s gone on the defensive, kind of. It’s as if she’s all at once shy with me. It was better between us when I used to take her out, in Liverpool. When Daisy was on leave, I mean, and the two of us got on just fine.
‘Lyn