Richard & Hattie
Avoiding Heartache
Richard paced up and down the corridor, his body at odds with his mind. He had to find a way of living with what was happening today. Thank God he had got out of attending the wedding. Sarah wouldn’t know he wasn’t there until she reached the church. He’d left it until the last moment to ring his mother and tell her the lie he’d conjured up: ‘Stuck in Glasgow, sorry. Training schedules altered. Nothing I can do about it. Have to go. Give Sarah and Billy my best wishes, and my apologies to Megan and Jack. Hope I don’t upset the seating plan or anything. I’ll ring Lucinda. She may go with you anyway. I’ll see what she says.’
Lucinda had chosen not to go, thank God. Somehow he hadn’t wanted her there, with or without him. Oh, Sarah, why? Why? He was certain he’d read reciprocation for his feelings in her eyes.
‘Lieutenant Chesterton, are you not meant to be in a lecture? Don’t think for a minute ye know it all, lad. Clever or not, ye’ve a lot to learn, I’m telling ye. So look smart, or ye could find yourself cleaning the car park with a toothbrush.’
Richard jumped to attention, faced the huge Glaswegian professor who was now an officer involved in their training, and saluted. ‘Good morning, sir. No, I’m on a twenty-four-hour pass. Supposed to be at a family wedding, but . . . well, things are complicated.’
‘In that case, you’d do well to use the time productively. Join my lecture. I can promise you it won’t send you to sleep, nor will you forget the fascinating facts I will tell you. Och, twenty-four-hour pass – they’re making babies of ye! This is war, man. All that stuff has to go out of the window.’
‘Sir!’ Clipping his feet together as he once again executed a smart salute, Richard marvelled at how quickly he’d got used to deferring to another. Not that it came as any difficulty with this man. He greatly admired the professor in aeronautics, who’d been heavily decorated for his contribution in the Great War and had come out of retirement to train recruits in aircraft dynamics. Far from nodding off in his lectures, Richard had found them fascinating and could see the value of them. Knowing how your aircraft works and what it would stand up to was, in his opinion, going to be invaluable. Besides, it would take his mind off everything. Once again he found himself asking: Why? Why did Sarah have to carry out a promise that she’d made as a girl? She was about to tie herself to that bloody bully, and there was nothing he could do about it. How he was going to live without her, he didn’t know.
‘I see the medal that you arrived with has now cleared up.’ The general indicated Richard’s eye. ‘Good, it bodes well that you are a fighting man, Lieutenant. The country needs such men. Come along.’
Following the professor to the lecture room, Richard knew his face was colouring. Arriving with a black eye hadn’t been the easiest of things. Nor had reporting to Biggin Hill with the visible aftermath of Billy’s attack on him – at that ill-fated party Megan had thrown for Billy’s homecoming – helped him get off to a good start. Though all of that had paled beside the awful worry of trying to get news about Sarah. His father, as indeed he did, thought there was more to the bleeding that occurred on that night and to Sarah fainting. Megan hadn’t let them near Sarah, saying she’d call their own doctor. It had all been a bit crazy really, and it had been a relief to hear from his mother that, although she had been laid low for a few days, Sarah had recovered and was busy getting ready for her wedding. His heart ached at the thought.
They’d reached the lecture hall, where the buzz of student noise from his fellow trainees hushed. How he was to get through the next few hours, Richard had no idea. As he slipped into a bench next to Victor Hughes, a man he’d really connected with from day one, Victor leaned towards him. ‘There you are. I heard you hadn’t left. Well, there was a call for you, from a Miss Lucinda Palmer. She said to tell you she is getting the overnight train, so don’t let go of your leave pass.’
The groan came from deep within him, but Richard suppressed its exit and coughed to cover it up. ‘Thanks. Well, I’m sitting in on this as something to do, beside the fact that I enjoy Professor McCleod’s lectures, but I haven’t made any formal arrangements to relinquish the time granted to me, so nothing lost.’
Nothing lost! The last thing he wanted was to entertain Lucinda.
Richard’s taxi pulled up at the station. His heart drummed with the decision he’d taken. He couldn’t marry Lucinda – it wouldn’t be fair to her or himself.
Her wave held eager anticipation. Her fresh-faced beauty and the shining excitement that she exuded compounded his feeling of being a cad of the first order.
‘Darling, why so worried? Aren’t you pleased to see me? A whole weekend together, and no parents around. Take me to the nearest hotel . . .’
‘Lucinda . . . I – I need to talk to you. I – I—’
‘Cold feet, eh? That’ll soon pass. Come on.’
‘No! I – I mean. It won’t pass. Look. I have a taxi waiting. We need to go somewhere quiet. The driver knows of a restaurant where they have booths. We’ll go there, you must be starving.’
Lucinda didn’t answer this. Richard hoped she’d taken in the message that he was trying to convey.
The Charles Brae restaurant was typically Scottish, with a fair smattering of tartan and sprigs of heather in small vases. As the taxi driver had said, there were booths dotted around, which afforded a lot of privacy.
Once seated, Richard took a deep breath, but before he could speak, Lucinda said, ‘Let me do this. We’re not right for each other, are we?’
Richard could only stare.
‘I have to be honest with you, Richard. I’ve fancied the pants off you for ages. I thought I’d come up here and let you bed me, and then make my mind up as to whether I could convert that feeling into something that would last us both a lifetime. I suppose a girl like me becomes desperate, in the normal run of things. There are so few “suitable men” to choose from. But I’m not on the shelf yet.’
‘No, of course not. You’re a very beautiful and desirable woman, Lucinda. I’m so sorry we cannot make a go of it, but please remain my friend.’
‘I will. You won’t be too broken-hearted, will you?’
This surprised him. He decided to leave her thinking that he still wanted her; it was the least he could do. ‘Disappointed, of course, but I believe we both need our freedom right now. Who knows, in the future . . . ?’
‘That’s how I feel. If we survive this bloody war and neither of us has hooked up with someone, then we could give it another go.’
‘Yes. I agree.’ How cold such an arrangement was, but then it was wise to leave open the way forward. Both of them wanted marriage and children, and they got on very well together, when the question of a long-term relationship wasn’t marring things. It was ideal for both of them really. Have a look around, but if no one else came up, there was always each other.
A smile curled across his lips.
‘What’s so amusing? We should be crying. We’ve just split up, haven’t we?’
‘Oh, I do feel pain, of course, dear Lucinda. I was just amused at us making an arrangement to be the last choice for each other. Ha – I find it rather funny.’
Lucinda giggled with him. ‘You’re my insurance, darling, and a very nice one too, so look after yourself and don’t go getting killed, or anything like that.’
‘I will. Now, let’s order breakfast. I didn’t have any before I went in for a lecture this morning, and I’m starving. Then we’ll enjoy a lovely fun weekend together, with no strings attached.’
‘Does “no strings” include sleeping together, purely for enjoyment? If so, I’m up for that.’
A flush reached Richard’s cheeks, but he wasn’t averse to the idea. Lucinda had always been very forward. He doubted she was a virgin, and yes, the idea of sleeping with her appealed. ‘Hmm, maybe – just maybe.’
Lucinda laughed out loud. He joined her, but felt deep inside him a stirring of anticipation. Everything had turned out well, and he had a treat in store later, by the sound of things. One that would serve to keep his mind off the bed that he yearned to be climbing into tonight, with Sarah.
Shaking these thoughts from him, Richard concentrated on Lucinda and what she was telling him about her horses, while entwining her stockinged feet around his and running them gently up and down his leg. The feelings he was experiencing told him that he could get through today. He had to.
Hattie pulled on her gloves. ‘Eeh, Harry, it’s a cold one. I hope Sarah and Sally aren’t going to freeze.’
‘They’ll be fine. They’ll have the excitement of it all to keep them warm. At least it’s a dry, sunny day. “Happy the bride the sun shines on”, eh?’
‘I don’t know about that. I have a foreboding about it all. I just can’t get my thoughts around Sarah wanting to marry Billy. She looks poorly, thou knows, love. I’m reet worried for her.’
‘I know, but then nerves can’t help. Stop being like a mother hen and come here. I could do with a cuddle before we go. You’ve not been generous of late with your cuddles.’
A slither of guilt assaulted Hattie. Why couldn’t she stop thinking about Arthur? Harry was a good man; he’d rescued her when she most needed it, and been there for her ever since. But it didn’t matter how she wrapped it up: he wasn’t Arthur, and that was that. ‘Hey, pack that in. You’ll ruffle me dress. What a time to start your games! We’re leaving in fifteen minutes.’ She slapped Harry’s hand away from her breast. He’d taken her in his arms from behind, kissing her neck and caressing her stomach before moving up higher. She could feel his need as he pressed against her. ‘Harry, love, we’ve no time.’
‘Well, it’ll give you something to think of during the day. Every time you catch me eye, you’ll know I’m lusting after you. Then when we get home you’ll not be able to resist me. Don’t forget: Sally’s staying at Megan’s tonight, so we’ll have the house to ourselves.’
Again he kissed her ears, nipping the lobes and snuggling into her neck. Nothing in her responded – and hadn’t done since she’d seen that newspaper article. A deep regret entered her. Harry didn’t deserve this.
Turning in his arms, she made a big effort and kissed him deeply. ‘Are you trying to drive me crazy, or what?’ Telling Harry she loved him gave her the reward of his lovely smile. Her eyes filled with tears, which she tried to blink away. One escaped and ran down her cheek.
‘Don’t cry, love. It’s all right, I understand.’
And she knew he did. This compounded her guilt, but she had no time to deal with it. ‘Eeh, there’s nowt to understand. It’s natural to have a little cry on a wedding day, especially when your man shows you how much he loves you. Now, we must go.’
‘Hattie, I do love you. And what I said about catching your eye during the day – I will, you know, just to reassure you and keep me promise.’
‘I know, Harry. I’ll be reet. Now stop worrying and hurry up!’
Still flushed from the feelings that were assailing her, Hattie shivered as they walked towards their car. Waiting for Harry to unlock the doors and crank the engine into life, she looked around. Another car parked a little way down the road caught her eye. Her mouth dried. Oh, stop being silly. It’s just another posh car, that’s all . . .
Once they were in their car, the one that she’d spotted drove past at walking pace. A face – still so scarred, so dear, so loved – looked out at her. Her heart stopped. Oh God, Arthur . . . Arthur . . .