Only a Mother Knows Read online

  ‘I am so sorry, Dulcie, please forgive me, there was nothing I could do … please believe me, Dulcie. I am so, so sorry, I beg of you …’

  Dulcie, stunned, dazed, almost without thinking, reached out and stroked his thick black hair before lifting his head to see tears rolling freely down his face. She was surprised when he took her hands, and cupping them in his he kissed them and she could see the pain of shame in his eyes.

  ‘I couldn’t help myself,’ he said, his eyes looking almost dead now. ‘I just couldn’t stop … I didn’t realise until it was too late that you were a … that it was your first time, too.’

  Dulcie looked at him and sighed. How could she face anybody now? Wilder didn’t matter any more, he had shown his true colours and she wasn’t going there again. David … Poor, fractured David … he would be so disgusted if he knew what she had done. She would never be able to look anybody, not even Olive, in the face again.

  Quickly, covering herself, trying to tidy herself up, she knew that when Sally and George went away it was plainly obvious what had taken place; the sun had shone from their eyes. Their love oozed from every pore. But this wasn’t love. This was madness. And she had encouraged it. If the truth be known, she had longed for him to make love to her … But for all the wrong reasons.

  ‘I can’t say sorry enough, I didn’t mean to … to force myself on you. It wasn’t like that, honest it wasn’t.’ For a long, difficult moment Dulcie looked into the face of an inexperienced, frightened young man who, like herself, had been a virgin.

  No doubt he was scared of what she would do now, Dulcie thought, and wondering if she would report him to the authorities. But she couldn’t do that knowing she was as much to blame as he was. More so if the truth was known, because she could have stopped him going too far any time, until …

  He was a long way from home, she knew. And, given his show of utter remorse now, she doubted there was anybody he would tell. Reece looked at her and said, his voice gruff, hesitant, ‘Back at the base they said English girls were …’ He couldn’t finish telling her of the lies he had been fed from his buddies back at camp, but Dulcie knew what he meant, she had heard the girls in the munitions factory, and for a moment she wanted to … she wanted to … Oh, God, she wanted to tell him it was all right.

  But it wasn’t all right. He had been tricked into thinking that English girls were easy. And by the way she had seen some girls acting she could see how some of their American allies would think that, too. It still wasn’t right though, she thought.

  Hurriedly she stood and fixed her clothes, smoothed down the creased skirt that had been so immaculately pressed and roughly pushed her damp, tangled hair from her face before moving towards the shelter’s exit. But Reece pulled her back.

  ‘You can’t go out there yet!’ His eyes were a mixture of distress and apology. ‘The all-clear hasn’t yet sounded. I promise I won’t do anything, please don’t go,’ he pleaded. ‘It’s not safe.’

  Dulcie edged back into the shelter without saying a word. What a way to remember something that should be forever in your mind as the beautiful first time. Slowly she edged towards the wooden bench and resigned herself to the fact that whether she liked it or not she and Reece were stranded together for the duration. And as she listened to the crump and boom of the battle beyond the air-raid shelter Dulcie likened it to the conflict going on inside her now, and she knew that as soon as the air raid was over she would be out of here so fast, he would never see her again.

  Only a Mother Knows

  FIVE

  ‘You’re very quiet today, Drew, is there something wrong?’ Tilly asked.

  Drew shook his head and smiled but Tilly wasn’t convinced; they were so in love, with an almost uncanny perception of each other’s moods, that she couldn’t help noticing when something was bothering him, even when he didn’t appear to be outwardly worrying. But try as she might she couldn’t get him to tell her what was wrong. She decided to leave it for now and change the subject, as she didn’t want Drew to feel she was pressurising him into telling her something he wished to keep to himself. No matter how much she longed to know.

  ‘It isn’t looking good for our boys in the desert, is it, Drew?’

  ‘No, Tilly, it isn’t,’ he replied, watching her make little knots in the long grass she had plucked from the lawn on which they were spending their last evening together. Even though Tilly didn’t yet know this. His heart ached with love for her. But he couldn’t voice the news that his mother was critically ill, which his father had told him this morning when he telephoned to say he had booked Drew on the next flight to Chicago – later this evening.

  Drew’s capricious, even half-baked inner fear that Tilly might find someone else if he wasn’t around gnawed at his insides, but he knew he had to remain calm, even relaxed. He knew she loved him with every beat of her heart – whilst he was around.

  But loving her as much as he did now was making him feel suddenly insecure. Would she wait for him to come back? He was sure she would. But there were plenty of red-blooded servicemen roaming around London who would jump at the chance of a date with Tilly. He would never voice his fears to her, of course not. She’d be so messed-up. He had to act normally, behave like nothing was wrong. Although he knew Tilly already guessed something.

  ‘Is Dulcie’s brother still in the desert?’ Drew searched Tilly’s eyes for any flicker of emotion at the mention of her former sweetheart. She nodded slightly and continued to concentrate on the blade of grass she was curling between her short neat fingernails. She didn’t say anything, perhaps heeding the advice that anybody, no matter how innocent-looking, could be eavesdropping and share the information. Drew was well aware that Dulcie’s brother Rick was stationed at Tobruk in Libya, which had fallen to the Germans in June. It had cast a pall of anxiety and dismay over the whole country and he secretly wondered if Tilly was worried about her former flame. It was swell of her to worry; it showed her caring nature. But it didn’t stop him feeling an unfamiliar emotional insecurity.

  ‘Do you think the enemy will take Cairo as well?’ Tilly whispered, her eyes observing the people around them in the park, and Drew shook his head in answer to her grim question.

  ‘I don’t know,’ he said, his hand resting gently on her shoulder. He felt Tilly shiver beneath the short-sleeved, thin woollen cardigan, even though the day was still very warm.

  ‘Sally told us one of the nurses back at Bart’s said that she has a sister who is also a nurse, working out in Cairo.’ Tilly repositioned her head so that it lay comfortably on his lap as she plaited the long grass and tickled his chin with it, then sighing in that beautiful way she had she continued, ‘Sally’s friend was thinking of going out to join her sister, because her letters were full of the fun she was having, and all the parties she’d been invited to,’ Tilly sighed again, ‘but now she’s not so sure. After what’s happened in North Africa she says that nothing would entice her to go over there.’

  ‘The world is going mad,’ said Drew and then seeing Tilly’s eyes open wide he reassuringly squeezed her hand.

  ‘Dulcie says that there’s been talk of her sister Edith’s dance troupe being sent out to entertain the troops on one of the ENSA tours. But what if the Germans do take Cairo …?’

  ‘They haven’t taken it yet,’ Drew said, trying to calm her fears, ‘and knowing what I do about the brave British bulldog spirit I’m sure the Allies will fight to the last man to stop that from happening.’ He was quiet for a moment. Then he said in a hesitant, almost non-committal voice, ‘Has Dulcie heard anything from Rick?’ He watched as Tilly shook her head and looked a little uncomfortable, then Drew smiled and gave her hand another squeeze; he’d put her in a real uncomfortable position and hated himself for being so selfish, thinking only of his own feelings.

  ‘You mustn’t feel that you can’t mention Rick’s name around me, Tilly.’ He wanted so much for Tilly to understand he was a modern man. He recognised that other men would be
just as smitten by her beauty as he was. ‘Just because he used to be sweet on you doesn’t mean you can’t talk about him.’ Drew bent and gently stroked the tip of Tilly’s nose, making her smile. ‘I know I can trust in your love for me – and Rick’s a decent guy.’

  ‘Oh, Drew, I would never do anything to make you think badly of me, especially …’

  ‘Nothing could make me feel that way, honey. I like Rick, he’s a nice guy, and you knew him before you knew me, right.’ Drew had almost convinced himself that he wouldn’t be in the least bit anxious if Rick was on his way home whilst he was back in America. ‘I know you love me and I know I can trust in that love. You’re my girl and I’m your man, right?’

  ‘I could never look at another man who isn’t you, my darling.’ There was a delicious giggle in Tilly’s voice that made Drew feel weak with love for her. How was he going to survive without seeing her every day? But he tried not to dwell on that now.

  ‘Rick’s fighting for his country and it stands to reason that you’d worry,’ he said, trying to keep his mind focused on the here and now with Tilly – not what would happen tomorrow without her. ‘You wouldn’t be the caring kinda gal I know you are, if you weren’t anxious.’

  ‘Oh, you are understanding, Drew, it must be terrifying for Dulcie.’ Tilly was overcome with relief that he understood and there were tears in her eyes as she fervently responded, ‘Is it any wonder that I love you.’

  She turned, balancing on her elbow, blew him a kiss and said, ‘Everything you say and do proves what a wonderful, special person you are. I am concerned about Rick, and I know Dulcie is too although she tries hard not to show it.’ Tilly wiped away her tears with her hand and Drew bent to try and kiss her fears away once more.

  ‘I know Rick was laughing off the fighting he would have to do when he was home last,’ he said, his little finger gently outlining her beautiful features.

  ‘That’s Rick; all jokes and good spirits,’ said Tilly, her voice relaxed as if seeing the scene in her mind’s eye, then her tone changed, revealing her carefully hidden distress. ‘I noticed when he thought nobody was looking he stopped smiling. He looked thinner, too, and …’

  ‘Battle-hardened,’ Drew suggested, wondering what Tilly would say if he told her how much he envied men like Rick who were doing their bit, and how he felt he was having it easy whilst they were risking their lives.

  ‘Yes, that’s it,’ Tilly agreed, sombre now, knowing the first time she had met Rick she was bowled over by his good looks and easy charm.

  In fact she had more than a bit of a crush on him. But that was before she met her darling Drew. Now there was nobody and nothing in her heart except him, even though her love didn’t prevent her having a very natural concern for Rick. She looked up and shielded her eyes from the golden dipping rays of sunshine to see that Drew had commenced writing in his journal, probably recording their time together.

  ‘How lucky I am to have a man who is so clever as to write such a wonderful book,’ she said, trying to inject a little light into their dark conversation.

  ‘My greatest achievement is finding you, my darling Tilly.’ Drew smiled and stroked her hair. ‘You fill my life with sunshine every day, no matter what the weather.’ He reached out and touched the ring Tilly wore on a chain around her neck. The one he’d given her the first Christmas they had known one another.

  ‘Remember what we said to each other about this?’ he asked her, his eyes tender. Tilly nodded; how could she ever forget? They would only break up for good if she sent him his ring back, or if he ever asked her for it.

  ‘I will never ask you for this ring back,’ Drew said, his words thick, his eyes solemn.

  ‘And I will never offer it to you,’ Tilly said, her brow puckered in a confused crease. They gazed into each other’s eyes for a long time, neither one wanting to break this idyllic moment. This precious time they had together was sacrosanct, when nothing and nobody could come between them. Then, all too soon, the keeper was patrolling the park, and one of the only sets of gates that had not yet been requisitioned for the war effort was about to be locked.

  ‘C’mon. We’ll have to get back.’ Drew’s voice was laced with regret before he bent to kiss her gently on her ever-accepting lips.

  ‘I know, we’re on fire-watch duty tonight,’ Tilly offered. ‘Not that there are likely to be any bombs tonight, thank goodness, the enemies are too busy fighting overseas.’ She looked pensive. ‘But we mustn’t become complacent; there is talk that Hitler could start bombing again but probably only when he’s finished attacking Russia when winter sets in over there.’

  ‘You’re right,’ said Drew. ‘No attacking army has been victorious against the Russian winter – as Napoleon Bonaparte learned to his cost.’

  ‘You are so clever to know that,’ Tilly said, adoration in her eyes.

  ‘I know, I can’t help it,’ Drew laughed. ‘But come on, we’d better make tracks.’

  He was talking about anything he could think of to try to prevent him feeling like the heel he most certainly was, afraid that if there was a moment’s silence between them then he would blurt out the very thing he had been keeping from Tilly all day.

  He knew she deserved to be told that he was leaving as soon as he dropped her off home. It was her right to know. But he wasn’t the courageous hero Tilly thought he was. In fact he felt like a spineless rat and not the desert kind like Rick either. Drew was too damned scared to tell the woman he loved that he was going away. And had no idea when he was coming back.

  ‘Oh, hello, Dulcie, you’re home late,’ Olive said as Dulcie popped her head around the front-room door. ‘I’m glad you’re back safe and sound though, did you manage to get to a shelter?’

  Dulcie nodded, unable to say much, and kept the door half-closed, covering herself so as not to alert Olive to her dishevelled clothing and hoping her humiliation didn’t show on her face. She had a splitting headache and all she wanted to do was crawl into bed and forget tonight had ever happened, and she certainly didn’t want to go into the front room where questions might be asked.

  ‘I was hoping to be able to take a bath, is there any hot water?’

  ‘Enough for five inches I would say,’ Olive answered, her brows meeting in a troubled frown. ‘Is everything all right, Dulcie?’

  ‘Fine. Just a bit of a headache,’ Dulcie lied with uncharacteristic calmness. She had a lot to think about and she needed privacy to do it. Thankfully, Olive had the company of Mrs Black from next door and Tilly, who had just come in from fire-watching.

  ‘I’ll make you a hot cocoa and see if we have something for your headache,’ Olive said, rising from the chair.

  ‘Maybe later,’ Dulcie said, not wanting any fuss. ‘The bath might do the trick. I won’t be long,’ she managed to add as she closed the door, tears just a blink away as Olive’s kindness touched her heart and made her feel tawdry, whilst Nancy Black’s strident opinion echoed after her.

  ‘I don’t know as I like that common voice on the wireless,’ Nancy said, sitting on Olive’s settee, wrinkling her flared nostrils like there was a bad smell floating about the room, much to Olive’s chagrin.

  ‘It’s Wilfred Pickles!’ Olive exclaimed, retrieving the newspaper, which Nancy had borrowed and brought back two days late. This was becoming a regular occurrence, and even though Olive didn’t mind lending her the newspaper, she did object to not getting it back when the news was still fresh, instead of being fit for nothing except tomorrow’s chip wrapper; especially when Nancy took half of it to polish her windows and Olive had to remind her who it actually belonged to.

  ‘It comes to something when the news has to be read in a Yorkshire accent,’ Nancy continued. ‘Have all the true Englishmen gone to fight? That’s what I want to know.’

  ‘I quite like a Yorkshire accent, myself,’ Olive replied, ‘and of course he is a true Englishman.’ She folded the paper to give her hands something to do to stave off the nervous energy Nancy always see
med to encourage in her and, then, putting the paper on the arm of the chair she continued, ‘I told you, he’s a very fine actor, is Wilfred Pickles. I think he’s got a lovely soothing voice and he’s very handsome.’ She gave an emphatic nod of her head and just stopped short of telling Nancy that she was being absurd.

  ‘It’s not right,’ Nancy began, but she was cut off mid-sentence.

  ‘Oh, I dunno.’ Tilly imitated the common slang, knowing it irked Nancy, cautiously splaying her fingers down the inside leg of her last pair of nylons that Drew had given her to examine it for ladders. ‘Mum’s right, his voice is very gentle on the old nerves, I must say.’ Olive smiled at her daughter whilst Nancy sniffed her disregard, her mouth set in a straight line.

  ‘Is she sickening for something?’ Nancy asked Olive and it took all of Tilly’s resolve to stop herself from bursting into hysterical laughter. ‘It just doesn’t seem right somehow,’ Nancy continued, ‘unpatriotic.’

  ‘Maybe if the BBC has a word on your behalf, as you’re such an avid listener.’ Tilly couldn’t look at her neighbour in case she gave the game away. Her mother gave her a raised eyebrow, but Tilly could see she too was amused and even more so when she actually joined in.

  ‘They could get Mr Churchill to do the honours and read the nine o’clock edition if he’s got nothing better to do,’ Olive suggested. Tilly’s lips formed a silent moue of surprise.

  ‘Well,’ Nancy exclaimed, obviously peeved at their impudence, ‘I’ve got better things I must be getting on with. I haven’t got time to sit around here gossiping all night with you pair of giddy kippers.’ Shrugging her discontent Nancy shuffled out of the room.

  ‘Don’t let me keep you, Nancy, I’m sure you must be very busy,’ Olive managed to say, only just subduing her laughter until they heard the front door slam.

  ‘Oh, Mum, you are a one,’ Tillie laughed, hugging her sides as she rolled on the arm of the chair. Olive was glad to see that Tilly was in good spirits; the war seemed to have made her a little too serious than was good for her and she was pleased that Tilly had suggested she might go to the pictures with Dulcie on Saturday night.