Chapter Twenty-Six

June 1942

Stella was back at Hartsford Hall, currently working for the Women’s Voluntary Service. This morning, she had been driving evacuated children around the countryside in a donkey cart, and had taken Catherine along for the ride and a picnic afterwards. The little evacuees loved Catherine and she was always welcome on these excursions.

Stella had realised she actually loved children and had hated being away from Catherine, so the least she could do for these poor evacuees was to care for them and spoil them a little, whilst her heart broke daily for the mothers who lived apart from them.

The Earl, her father, had passed away shortly after Leo and Helen brought Catherine home, working himself up into such a frenzy over world events he had no control over, that he had simply dropped dead of a heart attack one day in the middle of a boardroom meeting.

It was surreal. Helen was now Helen, Lady Hartsford, and Leo had inherited his father’s title. There had been nothing stopping Stella coming back after that.

Helen had originally told her that when they turned up with the baby, the Earl’s accusations had flown and yes, one of them did involve his wayward daughter.

‘She’s no bloody nurse, is she? That child is the image of her – the image of her. What the hell have you done? It’s that bloody poet’s, isn’t it?’ he’d raged. Then he had gone off on a tangent and started accusing them of bringing flea-ridden paupers to the house instead. ‘Cuckoo in the nest! It’s probably diseased if you found it on the streets! It’s not inheriting anything of mine. Not a thing.’

So Stella had decided to play at being nurses a little longer.

She had, in reality, gone to stay with Veronica while Stephen was ‘away’, as they all so delicately said, and it had worked out quite well. And, awful though it sounded, they had all been quite relieved when the Earl died. Stephen had been released from the hospital, and it meant that Stella could come home. And even if she couldn’t realistically claim Catherine, she could at least be near her.

As she waltzed in to the Hall, after her trip in the carriage though, the sight she saw before her made her stop dead. Helen was looking pale, and Leo was rummaging around for something, flicking through paperwork as if he’d lost something important.

‘Is everything all right?’ Stella’s stomach clenched, expecting the worst. Like a Pathé News reel, images of other friends or family who might be in danger flickered through her mind. Who on earth had been hurt or killed now, and why was everything suddenly so desperate? She clutched Catherine to her and the baby grumbled a protest. ‘Please? Someone answer me.’

‘Stella, darling.’ Helen smiled, although her voice was a little shaky. ‘How do you fancy a little ride in the car? I really think you’d like to go on a nice long trip, don’t you?’

‘A nice long trip?’ Stella glanced at Leo. ‘Where the hell are we going to get the resources for a nice long trip?’

‘Let me worry about that.’ Leo stood up and looked his sister up and down. Stella blushed, knowing her hair was awry and most likely had straw in it. Her clothes had definitely seen better days and were undoubtedly filthy. One little boy, new to the village, had grabbed her arm excitedly as he saw a cow in a field – his very first cow – but unfortunately, he’d been clutching a honey sandwich at the time. In the same hand. ‘How long will it take you to get clean?’

‘Leo!’ Stella was affronted. There was no need for him to infer she was a state, was there? A girl had to at least try to retain her pride where she could.

‘And Catherine? I think she could do with a little wash as well. Is that jam on your face, baby girl? Is it?’

Stella opened her mouth to protest as Helen swooped in and took the baby out of her arms. Catherine roared with laughter as Helen made aeroplane noises and flew her around the room.

Even now, even after so long, Stella’s heart twisted as she watched Helen play with Catherine, and thought about what Rob had missed and what he would continue to miss.

She blinked back a tear and folded her arms. ‘There’s absolutely no need to be rude. I shall go and sort myself out now.’

‘Splendid.’ Helen stopped and hugged the baby to her. ‘Go now, darling. Let me deal with this little lady.’

And Stella found she had no choice but to comply.

Stella stepped out of the car and looked around. She was miles away from home, miles away from Hartsford, and God only knew how Leo had managed to get the petrol to get them here. They were outside a big, sprawling building that looked awfully official. She’d fallen asleep in the back of the car and still felt a little groggy.

‘Where are we?’ she asked.

Helen got out and stood beside her. ‘Wiltshire.’ She leaned back in and took Catherine out. She adjusted the baby’s knitted pixie hood and stole a kiss before she handed her to Stella.

Stella took Catherine and snuggled her in. ‘What are we in Wiltshire for?’

‘You’ll see.’ That was Leo. ‘I just have to confirm something, then we’ll be able to continue.’ He went into a small outbuilding, and Stella looked around her. Ahead of them was a tarmac road, winding towards a sprawling building set in front of a circular lawn. A few cars were parked out front, along with some ambulances.

‘Oh!’ Stella stood up straighter and grinned. ‘Of course! Mary and Lois – they’re working at a hospital here. Is it this one? I’m so pleased. I’ve been wanting to ask them how they manage. I don’t know if I’d be cut out to be a proper nurse, but I suppose if I had to, I could hold the patients’ poor hands, or something.’

Helen smiled and seemed to relax. ‘You guessed our surprise! Oh, boo.’

Stella laughed. ‘Top notch. Tell me, are we surprising them, or are they surprising us?’

‘You’ll have to wait and see, darling. Look! There’s Leo coming back.’

Leo approached them and looked a little nervous. ‘It’s fine. We can go in. We can take the car right up to the front and they’ll meet us there.’

‘No sense in waiting then.’ Helen climbed back in.

‘What’s a few more yards? We’ve travelled miles already.’ Stella was still carefully holding Catherine and eased herself into the rear seat.

Leo took them to the front door, and two women burst out of the building, capes flying, identical smiles on their faces. One pulled Helen’s door open and one pulled Stella’s and then they were both hugging and kissing and cooing over the baby.

‘May I? Please?’

That was Lois, holding her arms out and Stella handed Catherine over with a smile. ‘Down here I can actually claim her – not like at Hartsford.’

‘That’s the problem with such a small village. Nothing’s sacred.’

‘Nothing at all.’ Then Stella half-turned to Mary and took her hands. ‘But it’s so lovely to see you both.’

‘Not as lovely as it is for us to see you.’ Mary tucked Stella’s arm in hers. ‘Come on. Let me take you around here. I’ll show you our beautiful gardens. The boys love it here, they do. Sometimes, we put their beds out on the terrace and let them enjoy the sunshine.’

‘The boys? You’ve found plenty of them, then.’

‘Yes, our gorgeous pilots. I fall in love practically every other day.’

Stella laughed, although her heart twisted, just a little. Rob. If only he’d ended up somewhere like here. She was willing to bet that people would have had no difficulty falling in love with him.

‘Here we are.’ Mary’s voice took on a strange, excited little note. ‘As if on cue. One of my favourite patients ever. Of course, it’s such a pity he’s given his heart away quite so spectacularly.’

A man was sitting with his back to them, reading a newspaper. Stella looked at him, ready to agree with her friend that of course he was the most delightful man she’d ever seen, when she stopped in her tracks.

There was something too familiar about the shade of his hair, the set of his shoulders. Her heart began to pound as she saw the blue and white scarf knotted casually around his neck.

‘Go on,’ whispered Mary. ‘Go to him. He doesn’t know you’re coming.’ Stella cast a stunned glance at her friend and saw tears glistening in her eyes. ‘It’s all right. We’ll keep Catherine with us.’ Mary gave her a gentle push towards him, and as if he had sensed her nearby, he suddenly raised his head and looked around him.

‘Go on!’ Mary pushed her again.

‘Rob—’ Stella’s voice broke on his name. Then it all happened at once. ‘Rob!’ She began to run, to cover the short distance between them as fast as she could. ‘Rob!’

He threw the paper to the ground, struggled stiffly out of the chair and turned towards her, his dear, dear face as shocked as hers must be.

‘Stella!’ He shouted her name, and held his arms out, ready to catch her. ‘My Stella.’

She ran straight into his arms and fitted into the gap as exactly and as perfectly as she always had done, as she had longed to do again, so very many times. He felt warm and real and solid, and she never wanted to be parted from him, ever again. ‘I thought I’d never see you again.’

‘Oh, God, Stella.’ His voice cracked and he buried his face in her hair. ‘Marry me Stella. I said I’d ask you again, I promised I would. Marry me. Please.’

‘Yes. Yes. Of course, I will. I love you Rob. I love you so much.’

‘I love you too. I never stopped. And I never will.’

And she believed him, whole-heartedly, because she felt exactly the same.

Present Day

It was the Thursday before the Living History event was about to start. The squash courts, were now sparkling clean and no longer smelled of old trainers and sweat. Bunting was hung everywhere in preparation, and there was already a tent next to the building where they were going to offer strawberry teas.

Inside the courts, Cassie had prepared all the exhibitions she’d dreamed of in all the ways she’d imagined them, with a little help from Margaret. The staircase was safe and they had displays in the viewing gallery as well as downstairs, and there was a special section for Delilah’s granny’s hoard. Alex had managed to get some cookery books printed up with some of Granny Delilah’s recipes in, and the cover incorporated a lovely picture of her, up to her elbows in flour, that Cassie had, eventually, discovered in the archives.

There was also, of course, a very special section for Rob and Stella. Stella’s photograph and Rob’s Cambridge photograph, as well as his RAF one, were in a display case, with Rob’s notebook open at the drawing of the Spa and Stella’s list book open at the page where she lamented her very own Lost Generation. Cassie had laid the terrible love poem Rob had written alongside them and smiled as she fastened the lid shut.

‘Hey, it’s looking good.’ She turned and saw Aidan silhouetted in the doorway. ‘You see, it all worked out in the end.’

‘It did. Look – have you seen Rob and Stella’s display?’ She stepped aside, and Aidan walked across, standing very closely next to her and looking at the cabinet. ‘I’d like them to be happy we’ve got their things; we’ve pieced it all together as far as we could. Thank you for bringing Rob’s book to me.’ She smiled up at him, genuinely grateful. Then she laughed, embarrassed. ‘If you hadn’t, then I don’t think I would have had much for this weekend apart from a glut of ice-cream and some bunting.’

‘It’s Fate.’ Aidan grinned. ‘Meant to be.’

‘Yes. I’d like to think they were meant to be together, and if this is all we can do for them, then so be it.’

‘It’s not much to show for them, is it? Here, this might help a little. I did a copy of the photograph for you, the one of the engraving. I thought it might add to the collection.’

‘Oh, brilliant!’ Cassie took the photograph he offered to her and turned back to the cabinet and unlocked it again. ‘This gets pride of place I think. What an awesome find.’

‘I thought so.’ He smiled. ‘Oh, what’s that? There’s something wedged down the back there.’

‘What?’ Cassie leaned in and saw something stuck behind the shelves. ‘Ah! It’s a silk scarf, like the one you’ve got.’

‘The one you’ve got now, I think.’ Aidan grinned.

‘Details, details.’ Cassie shook her head and stood with the scarf in her hand, searching the other shelves. ‘Where on earth did this come from? I can’t remember bringing a scarf. But Margaret was helping earlier, so you never know.’ She looked at it and frowned. There was a logo printed on one of the corners and she straightened it out gently. ‘Liberty of London. Very nice. Blue and white are so pretty together, aren’t they? Well, it must be from in here. I’ll put it next to Stella’s book; I’m pretty sure there’ll be notes in her clothing lists or outstanding bills for Liberty. We can pretend.’ She smiled and arranged it deftly, then closed the cabinet again.

‘You really have done well. Hopefully there’ll be lots of people here this weekend to see them. And I’m quite proud of myself as well.’

Cassie smiled up at him. ‘And so you should be. You’re the one that’s made this place safe. You utterly saved me. I’d have been totally screwed otherwise.’

Aidan shrugged and put his hands in his pockets. He stared around the court and looked up to the viewing gallery. Cassie followed his gaze, strongly aware of the impression that someone had just run along the gallery and sped down the stairs. She quickly looked over at the door and saw the flicker of a white tennis dress, a streak of what might be red hair, disappear around the corner. And the oddest thing – there was a blue and white scarf flying from the handle of the tennis racquet the girl carried. Cassie bit her lip and looked away, her eyes drawn to the cabinet and the mysterious scarf. Could it be …? She shook her head, and returned her attention to Aidan.

‘It was meant to be, I think, Cassie. I was meant to come here and be with you. And the most important thing is that I managed to keep it all largely professional. However, you’re no longer my client, so I’m not going to hold back any more —’

In an instant, she was in his arms, being pulled towards him half-roughly. She gasped and his lips came down on hers, silencing her with his kiss. Cassie was unable to do anything but respond. Aidan was tall, and warm and safe-feeling, and, once she was in his embrace, his arms held her so gently that it was most definitely as if they were meant to be as one, sharing that kiss amongst the residue of Rob and Stella’s love affair.

Eventually, they broke apart and she looked up at him. ‘Gosh. If that’s you being unprofessional, I’m awfully pleased you chose to be – like that – with me. You should have been even more unprofessional before. I like it.’ She felt her cheeks flush and she was shaking, just a little bit, as he ran his hands down her arms and took her hands in his.

‘I don’t usually fall for my clients. But with you – I’ve wanted to be unprofessional from the first time I saw you, when I delivered Rob’s sketchbook to you, right at the beginning.’ He looked over her shoulder towards the door. ‘I do hope your brother hasn’t got a telescope trained down here. I can’t be answerable for what I just did and I shall strenuously deny it.’ He smiled down at her, teasing. ‘Will you ban me, now your project’s completed? Now you’ve had the best of me?’

‘Absolutely not. I can’t ban you. I just don’t know when I might need that level of service again. You’re going nowhere, Aidan Edwards.’

‘Good.’ He leaned down and brushed her lips with his again, sending little fizzing shivers right down her body, right to her toes. He pulled away and lifted his finger, tracing it down the side of her cheek, to her collarbone. It sent fireworks through her, and even more so when he dipped his head and kissed her collarbone.

Aidan stood upright again, and smiled. ‘I’m pretty good at maintenance contracts, you know. After a job is completed, I do like to be kept on the books to check things out. But if I hope that will happen, I should probably be entirely truthful with you.’

He felt Cassie stiffen in his arms. ‘What’s to be truthful about? Was your scarf really from a girlfriend then and not Petra? Is there someone else? Because if there is, I don’t want to get involved, I really don’t.’

She began to wriggle out of his embrace, but he held her tighter and shook his head. ‘No. Nothing like that! Don’t worry. You’ve met the other love in my life, and it’s currently parked near the garages.’

‘Oh!’ She relaxed and laughed. ‘That’s good to know.’ She pulled a face. ‘Tom, you know, despite him being such a lovely man and my best friend’s brother, has the morals of an alley cat. He was honest with me before we started seeing each other, and I did appreciate it, but at least he was monogamous for the time we were together.’

‘I’m not like Tom.’ Aidan laughed. ‘Not at all. No, I’ve always said once I give my heart away, I’ll do it properly. I’ve never quite done that, until maybe now.’

Cassie flushed and looked down. ‘Maybe now is a good time to give it away?’

‘I hope so. But what I need to tell the person I’ve given it to, is that I stole something from them. And I’m keeping something else from them as well. You know that address from the Dordogne?’ He didn’t quite know how to phrase that – ‘your mother’s address’? ‘Anne’s address’? So ‘the address from the Dordogne’ seemed like the safest option.

This time Cassie did draw away and looked up at him, stunned. ‘My mother’s address?’

Okay, ‘your mother’s address’. He could work with that.

‘Yes. Your mother’s address. I’m afraid I rescued it from the bin. I thought you might want it in the future. And that’s not all.’ He dropped his head. This was the hardest part. ‘I think she’s been here. I think I’ve actually talked to her.’

‘She’s been here? What did she say? What did she look like? God!’ Cassie’s nails dug into his arms and she looked into his eyes pleadingly. ‘Is she coming back?’

His heart went out to her. ‘I don’t know if she’s coming back. I told her about the weekend. I mentioned the twins, and she wanted to know who had twins. And I think she thought I was Alex.’ He frowned, remembering. ‘She looks a bit like you. She’s tall and she’s got the same colouring, and her eyes are brown, like yours.’

‘Alex’s eyes are dark blue.’ Cassie’s voice was small. ‘He says I look like Horace. He says my eyes look like a begging spaniel’s.’

Aidan couldn’t help but laugh gently. ‘Cassie, you’re so adorable. You don’t look like a begging spaniel at all.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Look, I’ll tell you what. I’ll give you her address. And if she doesn’t appear over the weekend, why not write to her?’

‘Yes. Yes, I suppose I could.’

And she threw her arms around his neck again and said she needed to thank him properly. Aidan didn’t mind in the slightest.