The news on the radio that evening was frustratingly quiet about the mysterious new weapons. Jess, Evie and May didn’t learn more until they went back on watch the next morning. The Controller briefed them on the events of the previous day.
‘The track we picked up yesterday was a new weapon called a V2. The first one hit Epping Forest and caused no fatalities. Sadly a second one struck Chiswick yesterday afternoon, killing three people and injuring many more.’
In the brief pause that followed, Jess exchanged glances with Evie and May. So that was what they had heard. Jess shuddered to think that distant roar had marked the deaths of three people. Three people who would have had no warning of their approaching end.
‘As you will have gathered yesterday, these V2s travel at huge speeds. We estimate it takes only five minutes for them to travel from their launch points in France to London. As such, it is impossible to give any warning to the general population.’ The Controller’s face turned grave. ‘It has therefore been decided not to make knowledge of V2s public. The prime minister is of the opinion that it would cause needless panic. We are confident that once the Allied Advance has cleared the Germans from Northern France, Britain will be out of range of these weapons. The threat, therefore, will be short-lived. I need not remind you that everything I have told you remains strictly secret.’
And so ended her last hope of persuading Vera to take herself and Hannah to safety, Jess reflected as she took her position. She had to finally concede that she would never be able to convince Vera to return to Wales. All she could do was pray a V2 never came their way.
What with her worries over the V2s and the excitement of her role in the film, Jess had completely forgotten about her next date with Milan, which they had arranged for that evening. Tired out as she was from lack of sleep the previous day, she would have sent Milan her excuses had she not wanted to give him the violin. The thought of his face when he saw it perked her up and gave her the energy to set out again with Evie that evening for the Abercorn Arms. May had pleaded tiredness, and Evie was only coming to the Abercorn to meet Alex; they had arranged to go to the cinema together. That left Jess alone with Milan. She wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing.
Milan was already at a table when she arrived. His eyes sparkled when he saw her, and he sprang to his feet before she could sit down. ‘Remember the custom,’ he said and kissed her on both cheeks.
The cheery greeting Jess had prepared flew from her mind. She didn’t understand why a chaste kiss on the cheek should make her so flustered. ‘How could I forget?’ she said, gripping the handle of the violin case.
He put both hands on her shoulders, and his gaze softened. ‘You grow more lovely every day.’
Flirting she could handle, but Milan’s expression held only sincerity. Feeling suddenly uncertain, she swatted his hands away and sat down. ‘Go on! Is that your way of sweet talking me into buying the drinks?’
‘No. I got you a port and lemon,’ he said, pointing to a glass she hadn’t seen before, ‘but if you—’ His gaze fell on the violin case in Jess’s hand and he swallowed, his eyes widening. He sank into his chair as though his knees had given way. ‘Is that…?’
She nodded and passed it across the table to Milan. ‘It’s yours.’
Watching Milan’s expression as he took the violin case in trembling hands was like watching a child reach for a much longed for Christmas present. Jess took a sip of her drink to ease the tightness in her throat then explained how she had come by the gift.
Milan touched one of the clasps then let his hand drop. ‘It is truly for me?’
‘Yes. Go on. Open it. I don’t know if it’s any good.’
Milan moved their drinks to another table then placed the case in front of him.
Jess looked uncharacteristically anxious. She must have mistaken his hesitation for reluctance. ‘It will be perfect,’ he assured her. He would have gladly accepted a child’s violin at this stage.
He levered open the clasps and opened the lid, drawing a sharp breath of longing when he saw the instrument inside. This was no beginner’s violin. He could almost hear the rich, mellow tones it would make. The strings were slack; it would take some tuning. He couldn’t resist lifting it from its case. His left hand curled around the neck. It was as though the violin had been moulded to his hands. He lifted it to his chin then closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The scent of resin and polished wood took him back to the practice room in Charles University. The violin felt totally natural in his hands, and he found his fingers moving over the strings in silent arpeggios. It might be five years since he had held a violin, but his muscles still remembered how to play, and that gave him a spark of hope. When all the fighting was over, maybe he would be able to pursue his dream.
‘Blimey, they should make handbags like this.’ Jess’s voice jerked him back to the present, and he opened his eyes. She was exploring all the pockets and compartments in the case. There was no trace of the sophisticated veneer she usually hid behind when she knew people were watching her. Instead she opened lids and ran her fingers over the velvet lining with a wide-eyed enthusiasm that was all Jess. This was the Jess he had wanted to see when he had made the clumsy comparison of her with ivy. Although his English was good enough for everyday communication, there were times he wished Jess could understand Czech. He would have far less difficulty explaining what was in his heart in his mother tongue.
She tugged at the piece of ribbon at the narrow end of the violin case, opening the lid of the little compartment there. She pulled out a duster that was wrapped around a circular object. ‘What’s this?’ she asked, unwrapping it.
‘Rosin.’
She prodded it with the tip of a finger. ‘What’s it for?’
‘Coating the hair. To stop the bow from skidding across the strings.’ He took the bow from its place in the lid and tightened the screw until the hair had the correct tension. ‘Look.’ He took the rosin from Jess and ran it up and down the bow, sending a flurry of fine powdered rosin drifting down upon the table. The fingers of his right hand took up the old familiar grip upon the ebony frog.
‘Are you going to play something?’
He shook his head and reluctantly replaced the violin and bow in the case. ‘It will need much tuning, and I need much practice.’ He took in their surroundings. ‘I think the landlord would throw me out if I tried tuning my violin in here.’
My violin. The enormity of those two simple words struck him. ‘Thank you, Jess. You cannot know how much this means to me.’ That she cared for him enough to find him this magnificent gift brought a lump to his throat. She had seen a violin in a shop window and thought of him. If they hadn’t been in a crowded pub, he would have taken her in his arms and kissed her. As it was, her nearness as she leaned across the table, gazing at him with shining eyes sent a frisson of awareness across his flesh. A beguiling hint of floral perfume now competed with the scent of rosin.
A sudden thought struck him. ‘You must let me pay. How much—?’
‘It didn’t cost a thing. I told you.’
Milan frowned. Jess had said something about where she had got it from, but he had been too overwhelmed to take it in. Something about a woman in an antiques shop. ‘Then I must pay the woman who gave it to you.’
He half rose from his chair, but Jess placed a hand over his, sending prickles of electricity shooting up his arm. ‘She won’t accept any money. I tried. Anyway, her shop will be closed by now and I don’t know where she lives. I think she would like to see you, though.’
Milan nodded. ‘I will. I must thank her in person.’
The matter closed, he put away the violin and turned his attention to Jess. Now he came to look at her properly, he thought he detected shadows in her eyes as though she was worried about something. ‘Are you well, Jess? You look tired.’
‘Well that’s a fine compliment to pay a girl.’ For a moment he feared she would hide behind her façade again. Then she caught his eye and gave a small smile. ‘I am tired, as a matter of fact. I thought I worked odd hours when I was an actress, but I’ll never get used to the shifts here. It’s getting that I never know if it’ll be daylight or pitch darkness when I go outside every day.’
‘Is that all?’
Her shoulders sagged. ‘You don’t want to hear all my worries.’
‘Yes I do. If it’s important to you, it’s important to me.’ She’d understood how much having a violin again would mean to him. Why couldn’t she share her deeper feelings with him? It was frustrating that every time he seemed to get a step nearer, she would take two steps back.
‘If you must know, I’m worried about my aunt. I went to see her the other day. Tried to persuade her to go back to Wales. With all the flying bombs and… suchlike, I can’t sleep for worry. But she refuses to budge.’
Milan knew exactly what she meant by the ‘suchlike’. He had been briefed about the V2s, knew that’s what many of his reconnaissance missions had been about. ‘I am sorry,’ he said. ‘I do understand why you are worried.’ He tried to convey his full understanding through his tone. ‘I wish I could help but there is nothing.’
Jess sighed. ‘It helps that you understand.’
Then she sat up straighter. ‘Anyway, now we’ve established there’s absolutely nothing we can do, the best thing is to try and forget our worries for now.’
‘Good plan. What do you suggest?’
Jess rose. ‘First I’m going to get us each another drink, because I have news I want to celebrate.’
He kept his gaze fixed on her slender upright figure as she walked to the bar, admiring the swing of her hips. He wasn’t alone in his admiration – Milan saw several heads swivel as she walked past. One man called something to her that Milan couldn’t catch. Jess tossed her head and replied, ‘You wish.’
When they had been at Amberton together, some of his friends had wondered at his bravery in pursuing a girl who so clearly enjoyed to flirt. Milan hadn’t been worried, recognising her fierce loyalty for her two friends. It was one of the qualities he most admired in her. He knew that once her heart was given, she would be equally as loyal to the man she had given it to. It made him all the more determined to ensure that man was him.
Jess soon returned, placing another beer in front of him and holding a glass of something fizzy.
‘Tell me what we are celebrating,’ he said, raising his glass to her in thanks.
‘You’ll never guess what,’ she said. ‘They’re making a film – a drama about the RAF – and they’re filming some of the background shots and scenes at Bentley Priory.’ In her excitement, her tiredness and worry faded from her face, leaving her glowing and animated. It was how he always liked to picture her when they were apart. It was how he had remembered her in the long years since her abrupt goodbye before leaving Amberton.
‘A film?’ He recalled her enthusiasm at organising the pantomime at Amberton. She would be in her element with film makers prowling the grounds of Bentley Priory. ‘Who is in it? Anyone famous?’
‘Leonard Steele.’
‘Wow.’ Milan didn’t take much interest in films beside their music scores but even he had heard of Leonard Steele. ‘Didn’t he make that one about the pirates?’
Jess nodded. ‘Wait till you’ve heard the good bit. They were filming some shots that I was in, and the director noticed me. I’ve been given permission to play a minor speaking role. What do you think?’
‘That is wonderful.’
‘It was Leo – Leonard Steele – who managed to wangle it, I think.’
There was something self-conscious about her expression when she mentioned Leonard Steele that set alarm bells ringing in Milan’s head. Not to mention the familiar way she spoke of him. ‘Leo?’ he repeated.
‘Oh, that’s what everyone used to call him.’ Jess looked him directly in the eye and gave a smile that seemed to say there was nothing to worry about. Milan wasn’t fooled, though. There was the briefest flicker of discomfort that reminded Milan that Jess was a good actress. Most other women would be gazing at the floor at this point.
‘You knew Leonard Steele before the war?’ While Milan might not be as good an actor as Jess, he managed to make the enquiry sound casual. If he had met someone as famous as Leonard Steele, it would have been his conversation opener, not something he mentioned as if of no importance later on. Of course, Jess had been carrying the violin case when she arrived and had been excited about giving him his gift, so perhaps it wasn’t so strange after all that Jess hadn’t opened with her news.
‘Oh, yes, I had a minor role in a West End play that he was starring in.’
‘Yet you were friends?’ Milan hated the way that made him sound. It made him seem like a jealous lover who needed to know about every man his girlfriend had met in the past. He wasn’t like that at all. He trusted Jess; there was no way she would two-time him.
‘He took an interest in the newer actors. Mentored us, you know.’
Milan nodded. That happened in the world of music as well – a more experienced performer nurturing the talent of a younger artist. ‘It was kind of him to remember you.’
There it was again, a flicker of discomfort quickly disguised. ‘Isn’t it exciting, though?’ Jess said. ‘I just ’ope I can still remember ’ow to act. It’s been years.’
‘You will be… what is the expression? Top hat.’ He refused to be jealous. He would show Jess that he could be encouraging and supportive, even if he was haunted by the thought of Jess mixing with a famous and handsome film star.
Jess grinned. ‘I think you mean top hole. Thank you. It means the world to know you’re behind me.’
See? There was nothing to fear. Anyway, even if Jess did admire the famous Leonard Steele, Milan would not give up easily. Leonard Steele was part of her past, but he would make sure he, Milan, was the only man in her future.
Her future. But didn’t his plans for the future involve going home? Where did Jess fit in with that? Maybe it would be kinder to let her go.
He immediately dismissed the notion. Jess had worked her way into his heart, and he couldn’t bear the thought of a future without her. Besides, the war wasn’t over yet. It was something to worry about later.