‘We’re making a habit of this,’ Jack laughed, as Pop’s cart made its way along the road to Freshfield. He held tightly to the reins, but would have preferred to have his arms around Rita. Still, she was snuggled up beside him on the narrow front seat – there wasn’t much room for two, but he wasn’t going to complain if it brought the woman he loved close to his side.
‘I wish we were, all right,’ Rita said wistfully. The countryside was opening out and was green and lush in the first burst of summer. ‘It was more than six months ago we brought the children to the farm, can you believe it? But they’re so happy there – well, you’ll soon see for yourself.’
Jack nodded. ‘I know you torment yourself about it all the time, Rita, and you miss them, but it’s the right place for them.’
Rita turned to face him, her eyes shining. ‘It’s hard to explain, Jack. Even though I know what you say is true, there’s not a day goes by without me feeling I’m missing a limb. They’re such a part of me. Everything I do is for them. I hate for them to be away from me. I know it isn’t far really, and compared to what some families are going through, it’s nothing at all, but to be separated is agony.’
Jack shut his eyes briefly and then focused on the road ahead, which was slowly narrowing to a lane. ‘I understand, Rita, I honestly do. I know what it’s like to miss someone, to want to be with them every minute of the day and night, but to know it’s impossible.’ He paused. ‘That’s how I feel about you, Rita. What keeps me going is the thought that one day we could be together.’
Rita gave a little gasp. It was as if he was voicing her own innermost desires. ‘And I feel like that too, Jack. It would mean more than anything in the world to me, but we’d be foolish to even think about it. You’re a free agent but I’m not – I’m still shackled to Charlie whether we like it or not, and there’s nothing we can do about it.’ She tossed her hair, which she’d tied back for the journey. ‘I wish things were different, but they’re not.’ Her heart was heavy with regret. But for a moment of chance, she’d have married Jack instead, and they’d be together with their son.
Jack wondered if this was the right time to bring up something that had been on his mind for some while. He knew she might not like it, but he’d never get a better time. If she got upset there was no one to see, and there was nobody around to hear. ‘Rita, listen,’ he began. ‘The fact is, Charlie has deserted you. Not only is he a deserter for failing to enlist when he got his call-up papers, he’s left you and taken up with another woman. So what right has he got over you?’
‘He’s still my husband, Jack,’ Rita pointed out. ‘Whatever he’s done, wherever he is, he’s still my legal husband. I don’t love him, I realise now I never really did, but I tried so hard to make it work, and now he’s upped sticks and gone off with that Elsie Lowe. Yet we’re still married. I can’t change that.’
‘There might be a way, Rita.’ Jack gathered his courage to make his suggestion. ‘You could get a divorce.’
Rita sat bolt upright and stared at him. ‘What are you saying, Jack? A divorce? But that’s impossible. Marriage is for life, you know that.’ She got out her handkerchief and twisted it in her hands, hardly knowing she was doing it. ‘We married in sight of the Lord and that’s all there is to it. That can’t be ended with a divorce. Anyway, you know that divorce isn’t for the likes of us. It would be shameful, and my family would be shamed along with me. Think of what that would do to the children. No, I can’t even imagine such a thing.’
Jack swallowed guiltily, recognising that she had a point. He ought to have guessed – Rita had never been one to run away from anything, however difficult. ‘Please, Rita, don’t upset yourself,’ he said, switching the reins to one hand for a moment and gently touching her fingers. ‘I didn’t mean to distress you. But think, Rita. Times are changing. This war is going to make it all different, you see if it doesn’t. The likes of you and me are going to be able to do all sorts of things we didn’t think were possible. Charlie has deserted you and he never deserved you to start with – the world is becoming a different place and people like Charlie can’t get away with things like they used to. We can do something about it – together. I’d never let you down when you needed me.’
Rita hesitated before replying, and tried to keep her voice steady. ‘I know you wouldn’t, Jack, and I am grateful, really I am. But it doesn’t change anything. I might not get to church as often as I used to, what with all the different shifts and being too tired to stand let alone get down the road to Mass, but it doesn’t alter how I was raised – and you too. Marriage can’t be set aside so lightly. Whatever we might want doesn’t alter that.’
Jack sighed. ‘I was afraid you’d say that. But I had to bring it up, you see that, don’t you? I want you to be free, I want for us to make a life together. We have to have hope.’
‘I know, Jack.’ Looking at Jack, seeing his open and honest face, and the adoration for her she found there, regret filled Rita once again, and inside her she felt the deep, persistent longing for this good man that was never far from the surface. ‘I want that too. But this isn’t the way. We’ve got to make the best of what we’ve got, and our time together. Please, Jack, let’s not spoil today.’ She dashed away the unbidden tears that were threatening to overwhelm her. Rita didn’t want to arrive at the farm with red-rimmed eyes or it would upset Michael and Megan, which was the last thing she intended to do.
‘You’re right,’ he said heavily. Then he drew himself upright. ‘Let’s make today a good one. The sun’s shining on us, we’re out in the countryside and we’re going to see the children.’
‘And Joan will have baked a cake, if I know her,’ said Rita, desperately trying to lighten the atmosphere.
‘And will it be as good as one of Kitty’s?’ Jack asked.
‘Oh, I don’t know about that. Kitty’s cakes would knock anyone else’s into a cocked hat.’ Rita smiled but her heart was heavy, knowing that Jack’s words could now never be unsaid. He’d laid his cards on the table. He was good man, the best man, and he was offering her a way out, but deep down she knew it was one she could never, ever take. But if this way was closed to them, then where was their hope for the future? Charlie would never give her up, she knew that, so how on God’s earth would they ever be together?
There was nothing in the world as precious as the first hugs from her children after such a long separation, and Rita treasured every moment. As Michael and Megan ran to meet her, she knew that this time it was extra-special thanks to Jack’s presence. She could see the pleasure in Jack’s face as he took in the sight of his true son, Michael, who, like Megan and Tommy, was positively thriving. Luckily, Jack was being kept busy by Tommy, who couldn’t wait to quiz his big brother about life at sea. ‘And have you shot many Germans?’ he demanded. ‘What was the most exciting moment? Have you brought me any bullet cases? Have you capsized or anything?’
‘Tommy, Tommy, one thing at a time,’ Jack said, bending down and swinging his little brother around. ‘Blimey, I won’t be able to do that for much longer. Look at the size of you. What are you feeding him?’ he asked, catching sight of Joan and Seth.
The kindly farming couple had kept their distance, not wanting to interrupt the reunions. Now Joan stepped forward. ‘Come and see for yourselves,’ she said, shaking Rita’s and Jack’s hands. ‘Oh, it’s good to see you back here. Welcome to the farm. We thought you might be hungry after such a long journey.’
Rita felt a warm glow as she followed them towards the farmhouse, reassured that all was well in this part of the world, even if everywhere else was under threat. She held Megan’s hand and the little girl gripped her tightly, smiling radiantly.
‘Did you help collect the eggs for Auntie Joan this morning?’ Rita asked. Megan had written to her that this was now her job. Rita had felt her heart swell with pride at that – her little girl was getting up early before school to help around the place with the chores, and also that she’d managed to write about it. There had been a time when Megan was so unhappy that it seemed she was going to be slow at her lessons, but now she was obviously flourishing.
‘There were only eight today,’ Megan said seriously. ‘Sometimes there are twelve or more. Auntie Joan says baker’s dozen then. But I think the hens at the far end of the shed are unhappy and they aren’t laying as much.’
‘Really?’ Rita crinkled her eyes in amusement. ‘What could make hens unhappy, pet? Do you think they can smell a fox?’
Megan tutted. ‘We have a big fence to keep out the fox. You have to dig it in very deep, Uncle Seth showed me. No, I don’t think there can be a fox anywhere near them.’ She swung her hand so that Rita’s arm went to and fro as well. ‘No, I think it was the shadow man.’
Michael turned around to face his sister, from where he had been walking ahead. ‘Don’t be silly. There’s no such thing as the shadow man. He’s all in your imagination. Remember what Uncle Seth said about that.’
Megan looked mutinous. ‘Don’t call me silly. It’s true. There’s a shadow man.’
Rita stooped in her tracks and turned to face her little daughter. She crouched down so she was at the same level. ‘What’s this, Megan? Who’s the shadow man?’
Megan pushed back her hair, grown long now. ‘When I go out when it’s getting dark I sometimes feel there’s someone there. But when I go to look all I see is shadows. So I say it’s the shadow man. I’m not making it up.’
Rita gazed at her daughter and saw she was not telling lies, but that didn’t mean there was anything there. ‘Sometimes we all feel like that, Megan. When it’s getting dark you can see all sorts of shapes that aren’t there in the daytime, but it’s nothing to be afraid of. It’ll just be trees or something like that.’
‘Oh, I’m not afraid,’ said Megan, setting off towards the farmhouse door. ‘Come on, Mam, let’s have some of the cake Auntie Joan made. You’ll like it, I did the decoration.’
‘You put some bits of old nuts on it, you mean,’ teased Michael, running past them, followed by Tommy. Megan broke free and chased them inside the house, whooping as she went.
Rita watched her, thinking how she’d blossomed from the terrified, tongue-tied child she had been at Christmas when she and Jack had rescued them from Charlie and brought them to the farm. Now Megan seemed perfectly happy to imagine a creature in the shadows and yet not be worried about it. Rita reassured herself that all children dreamed up monsters and ghosts and all manner of things and were none the worse for it. She did her best to push to the back of her mind the incident in the shop yard when she could have sworn someone had been watching her. That had been the cat, nothing more. It was her intense concern for her children, combined with the never-ending way she missed them so much, that made her fear the same person, thing, whatever it was, was also targeting Megan. Stop it; you’re making something out of nothing, she told herself.
Gratefully she stepped inside the kitchen and gasped in delight at the spread Joan had laid on: pies, tarts, sandwiches and, in pride of place, a beautiful fruit cake, topped with carefully arranged, very slightly askew, nuts in a circle.
‘Do you like it?’ Megan asked, suddenly shy.
Rita hugged her daughter tightly. ‘I can’t imagine anything better.’ And it was true, she thought, gazing around. Here she was with her beloved children, where they were safe, and here was Jack with them. Michael was pointing out to him which sandwiches he’d helped to cut, and Jack was solemnly inspecting them. If only he was able to admit he was the boy’s real father – what a wonderful role model he would be. Michael obviously thought he was the bee’s knees. Charlie would never have bothered with such a small domestic detail, but she could see how Michael swelled with pride under Jack’s approval. This was how it should be. She would hold on to these moments, and that would help her to face whatever the future might bring.
‘It’s frightfully good of you to ask us along,’ Laura said, touching Elliott’s arm briefly as they pushed their way out of the busy Tube station. Crowds were milling about, around the entrance, along the street, and in Leicester Square in the distance. ‘I thought you two lovebirds might want some time alone.’ She turned her full-beam smile on him and shook her lustrous blonde hair.
Kitty silently reflected that her friend might well be right – it was a kind offer of Elliott’s to all go out together, but he was going back to Liverpool tomorrow and every moment was precious. She told herself not to be mean. It wasn’t often that Laura and Marjorie would have the chance to be escorted to the West End by a handsome young doctor – especially one who’d promised to take them to one of his favourite haunts. They all deserved a night out – for the three young women to have a weekend evening off together was rare, as they worked so hard, and even when they planned a trip to the cinema, the odds were that a raid would prevent them from going.
Laura gazed around. ‘So where are we headed for? I can’t believe you know of a club around here that I haven’t been to.’
Elliott looked as if he was having the time of his life, surrounded by three young Wrens all done up to the nines. Kitty and Marjorie had ended up borrowing more of Laura’s clothes, as there hadn’t been time to go shopping or make anything new. Marjorie had a puff-sleeve dress in lemon yellow, while Kitty wore a more dramatic deep-blue frock with a nipped-in waist. It was too hot for their coats, although Kitty had insisted they carried cardigans in case the temperature dropped later. She had slung her own cream knitted bolero around her shoulders. She clutched the sleeves as she asked, ‘Yes, where are we going, Elliott? Do we need to make our way through these crowds?’
Marjorie looked around apprehensively. ‘It’s terribly busy. I do hope there isn’t an air raid. We’d never all fit in the shelter if there was.’
Elliott turned to her. ‘Don’t worry, I’m going to take care of you all.’ He indicated a narrow side road leading them away from the bustling main street. ‘It’s just down here.’ He brought them to a corner of a small alley, deep in shade, and came to a halt in front of a dark-brown door.
‘Is this it?’ Laura looked at it askance. ‘It’s a good job we trust you, Elliott, or I’d be seriously wondering if this was another kind of club entirely.’
‘It’s one of those places you just have to know about; it doesn’t advertise its presence. It’ll be worth it, you mark my words.’ He knocked sharply on the door and a dark-haired man stuck his head outside, breaking into a broad grin when he saw who it was.
‘Fitzgerald! You old dog. Haven’t seen you for months. Nobody told me you were coming. And with such gorgeous girls, too. Come on in, you’ll love the band we have on tonight.’
He disappeared back inside and they all followed him, down a dimly lit staircase into a basement. Kitty began to have second thoughts. This was a whole new side of Elliott – he clearly had rakish friends who ran secret nightspots and who knew what else? She was struck by a wave of apprehension. Laura was in her element and surely Kitty wasn’t imagining that her friend was being flirtatious? She knew that was often Laura’s way, putting on a show of being outgoing and outrageous, but it still didn’t take much for all her old insecurities to re-emerge.
The stairs turned right at the bottom and Kitty gave a gasp. They were in a vast basement room, with a brightly lit stage at one end, a gleaming dance floor in front of it and a long bar down one side. The rest of the room was filled with elegant small tables, each with its own lamp, and slender chairs. People of all ages, some in uniform and others not, gathered at the tables and along the bar. Kitty had never seen anywhere quite like it.
‘I say, I’m impressed,’ Laura exclaimed. ‘How clever of you, Elliott, to discover a place like this. Can’t think how I missed it.’
‘Oh, some of the chaps from Barts introduced me to it,’ he said. ‘I like to come here whenever I’m in town. What can I get you ladies? The band will come on in a minute and then the place will be packed. Here, you take this table.’ He reached across and took an extra chair so there would be room for all of them.
‘Cocktail please!’ said Laura at once. ‘I don’t mind which, surprise me.’
‘Lemonade for me,’ said Marjorie, but then shook her head. ‘Oh, what the heck. A martini.’
‘A shandy,’ said Kitty, sticking to what had become her favourite. Elliott even talked differently when he was with Laura, she thought. It was as if they shared a common language, that of the wealthy, who were accustomed to nights out in the capital city. She felt left out. She didn’t like it at all. It brought up all her anxieties about him – why had he chosen her, when he could have had anyone of his own class? Last night it hadn’t seemed to matter and she had revelled in his company and fitting in with his circle. Now she felt all that shatter. Her fragile new-found confidence evaporated. Laura was his type and she wasn’t, that was all there was to it.
‘Penny for ’em,’ Laura said to her now. ‘I say, Elliott’s a dark horse, isn’t he? You never said he could get us into places like this.’
‘I didn’t know,’ said Kitty, wondering if her doubts were evident in her voice. But Laura didn’t seem to notice.
‘I can’t wait for the band to come on,’ her friend continued. ‘I bet the dancing here will be tremendous. Do you think he might give me a spin?’
‘I’m sure he will,’ said Kitty, certain that Elliott would like nothing better than to take to the dance floor with the glamorous Laura. They would look perfect together. Even her hair would make the ideal contrast with his, which Kitty’s own didn’t. She had been an idiot to imagine they’d come out and he’d want to stay at her side all evening. She would just have to steel herself against the inevitable disappointment. She wouldn’t show how she felt; she wouldn’t spoil everyone else’s evening by making a scene.
‘Kitty, are you all right?’ Elliott had returned from the bar with the drinks and sat down beside her. He gazed at her with concern. ‘You seem very quiet. Here, have some of this. Doctor’s orders.’ He smiled warmly at her as he set the half of shandy on the little table with its spindly metal legs.
‘Thank you,’ said Kitty, obediently taking a sip. It didn’t taste as good as it usually did. She realised he was waiting for an answer. ‘Oh, it’s nothing, I’m just a bit hot, that’s all.’
She was saved from saying more by the arrival of the band on the stage, smart in sharply pressed suits, their instruments gleaming. A cheer went up around the room and several couples rushed to take their places on the dance floor.
‘Well, if you’re hot, maybe Elliott wouldn’t mind if I borrowed him?’ Laura asked, clearly desperate to be one of the first to dance. ‘Sorry, Elliott, you’ll think me dreadfully forward.’
Yes, exactly, said Kitty sadly to herself, keeping her thoughts from her face with some difficulty.
‘Not at all,’ said Elliott gallantly, rising to his feet. ‘If you’re sure you don’t mind, Kitty?’
‘Of course not,’ said Kitty. She looked down at her drink so they wouldn’t see her expression.
The music began and the dancers started to move, some ineptly but most with assured rhythm, making it all seem effortless. The musicians were top class, filling the room with an infectious tune, and everyone began to tap their feet. Elliott was in his element, spinning Laura around at exactly the right moment, and Kitty remembered the wonderful sensation of being in his arms, seeming to float as he skilfully led her through the moves. He had made her feel as if she too was a dance champion – that was the skill of the true expert. With a sinking heart she acknowledged that Laura was a wonderful dancer and the combination of the two of them was well nigh flawless.
‘They’re awfully good, aren’t they,’ breathed Marjorie. ‘I knew Laura was, of course, but when she’s got a proper partner, she’s like something out of a film.’
‘You’re right,’ said Kitty, struggling to get the words out.
‘You never said Elliott was such a good dancer,’ Marjorie went on, oblivious to her friend’s distress.
‘He was a champion when he was a medical student,’ Kitty told her. ‘Him and his fiancée.’
‘Oh, was he engaged?’ Marjorie asked, curious. ‘What happened? Was it the war?’
‘No, she died before it began,’ said Kitty, twisting the sleeve of her bolero on her lap. ‘She was his professor’s daughter.’ The sort of girl he should be with, she thought despondently. One who could keep up with him on the dance floor and in any conceivable social situation. Not like her. She gulped down the rest of her drink, suddenly wishing she were anywhere but here.
Marjorie finally took the hint and didn’t press her with any more questions. After what seemed like an eternity, the tune ended and some of the couples broke away and returned to their seats. Laura led Elliott back to the table, but was claimed by a tall man in a naval uniform before she could sit down.
‘Would you care for a dance? I noticed you were rather good on your feet …’
Laura looked at him briefly, making one of her instant assessments, and accepted. She raised her eyebrows at Kitty and Marjorie over her shoulder as she returned to the fray.
‘How are you now, Kitty?’ Elliott glanced at her glass. ‘Gosh, you really must have been hot. Shall I get you another?’
‘No, don’t bother,’ Kitty said hurriedly. She made a fuss of refolding her bolero as a man in army uniform came shyly across and spoke to Marjorie. Marjorie exchanged a few words with him and then rose to take his hand and head for the dance floor too.
Elliott turned to face Kitty and rested his arm along the back of her chair. ‘Kitty, what is it? You aren’t yourself this evening. We had a lovely walk this afternoon and you were all right then, but now you’ve gone terribly quiet. Are you ill? You should have said, we didn’t have to come out.’
Kitty wouldn’t meet his gaze. ‘It’s nothing, honestly.’ She would rather have died than admit how she felt. What sort of person resented their friends having a good time? She must face up to the fact that Laura was so much more suitable for Elliott in every way and get used to the idea.
‘Kitty, look at me.’ Elliott was insistent. ‘Listen, we can go home if you’d rather. I don’t want you to put up with a stuffy club just for me. I don’t want you to be unhappy.’
Suddenly it was all too much and Kitty gave a stifled sob.
‘My darling girl, whatever is it?’ Elliott’s arms were round her in a second. ‘Has something happened? Was it when I went home to my parents to change – did you get a letter or something?’
All at once his warm reassurance worked its magic and Kitty felt her fears fade away. She hastened to set him right. ‘No, no, nothing like that.’ She sighed and rested her head on his broad shoulder. ‘It was something really silly. I saw the way you and Laura were dancing and I thought … well, I thought … just how good you looked together. Better than I look with you. I’m sorry, I don’t want to make a fuss.’
Elliott rocked her gently. ‘My darling girl, don’t be worried. Yes, your friend Laura is a marvellous dancer, but she’s not a patch on you. She’s fast and she’s funny and you’re lucky to have a good friend like that – I feel safer for knowing you have such lively and interesting companions when we’re so many miles apart. But you dance with your heart, Kitty. Just because you aren’t as polished as she is doesn’t mean you’re any worse. I love dancing with you – it’s another excuse to hold you close. Don’t worry about Laura, you silly sausage. She can’t hold a candle to you.’ He pulled back and gazed at her face. ‘My beautiful Kitty.’
Kitty gave a final sniff and shook her head. ‘Don’t listen to me, I’m being ridiculous. I know that now. It’s because … well, I love dancing with you too. We’ve had such a lovely time this weekend, please do forget me spoiling it like this. I don’t want to ruin your leave, it’s too precious.’
Elliott brushed her cheek with one gentle finger. ‘You could never spoil anything for me, Kitty. I’m privileged to have spent my weekend with you, I mean it. I can’t remember being so happy.’
‘Really?’ Her eyes shone with delight and just a little relief.
‘Really. I wouldn’t lie to you – I’m a doctor, remember?’ She laughed at the familiar joke as one tune ended and another began. ‘And now, Miss Callaghan, may I have the honour of the next dance?’
Kitty rose to her feet, her anxieties thrust aside like the foolish notions they were. ‘You may, Dr Fitzgerald, I would be honoured.’
Together they made their way on to the crowded dance floor and began to move, holding one another tight, in perfect rhythm, oblivious to the many envious glances all around them.