Her Secret War Page 15

  Northcott sighed. ‘It is imperative we are not seen together, Sarah. No one can know or suspect a connection. That is as much for your safety as mine.’

  Sarah frowned at him. ‘Then why did you approach me at Hursley Park?’

  ‘I could hardly knock on your uncle’s door. That was out of necessity and will not be repeated.’

  ‘I don’t have use of a car and would rather not have to travel so far,’ Sarah said. ‘Like you, I have an injured leg.’

  Northcott stiffened and a swift glare made it clear he didn’t wish to discuss such personal matters. ‘Very well, where do you suggest?’ he asked at last. ‘It must be somewhere quiet and out of the way.’

  ‘Do you know the ruins of Merdon Castle? It’s at the northern end of Hursley Park. The laneway that runs behind it is quiet. No one ever goes there, especially in the evenings.’

  He grunted. ‘That sounds close to the village, but all right: I’ll find it. Six thirty next Friday, then.’

  It was a dismissal. ‘Good evening, Captain,’ Sarah said, pulling the door handle.

  Northcott grunted again as he wiped the condensation from the inside of his windscreen. Just as she pushed the car door closed, to her surprise she heard: ‘Do be careful, Miss Gillespie.’

  No sooner was the door shut than he pulled away. What a strange man, she thought as she watched his car disappear down the laneway to be swallowed up by the dusk. With a weary sigh, she traipsed back to her bicycle.

  At least the rain had stopped.

  Upon her return home, Sarah stowed the bike in the shed. If her luck held, Martin and Uncle Tom would be sitting over their pints in the pub by now, and her aunt would be snoozing by the fire, allowing her to slip upstairs unseen and get out of her wet clothes. She crept into the house by the back door. To her consternation, Martin was leaning against the scullery door, cup of tea in hand, a reproving frown on his face.

  ‘Well, well, where have you been?’ he asked, his gaze sweeping up and down. ‘Who’s the lucky chap?’

  Sarah pinked up but pulled a face. ‘I wasn’t meeting any fella. As it happens, I was meeting up with Gladys for a drink in Winchester. I’m sure I mentioned something about it at dinner.’

  ‘I can’t say I recall. A long way to go just for a drink,’ he remarked with a frown.

  ‘We didn’t fancy the cinema and knew none of you were going this evening either. We just wanted a chat. It’s been such a busy week.’

  ‘Was Ruth there?’ he asked.

  ‘No, she wasn’t able to come. She was preparing for her big date tomorrow … with you.’

  ‘I see.’ By his tone, she knew Martin wasn’t convinced and wasn’t to be thrown off by her mention of his love life. He went on: ‘You look as if you got caught in the rain.’

  ‘I did, but didn’t you know bedraggled is the latest fashion? All the girls are going for it.’ She spun around and made a mock curtsey, hoping her banter would put him off asking any more questions, but to no avail; Martin frowned at her again.

  ‘If it was raining, why didn’t you stay over with Gladys in Winchester? Seems silly to cycle home in a downpour; dangerous, too, in the dark on your own.’

  ‘Oh, you know me, as silly as they come. It wasn’t raining much in Winchester when I left. Besides, Gladys’s landlady doesn’t allow overnight guests and I always prefer to sleep in my own bed. Now, I best get out of these wet things straight away,’ she said, moving past him towards the stairs.

  ‘Sarah?’

  She turned at the bottom step. ‘Yes?’

  ‘Is everything all right?’

  He sounded concerned and she hated having to lie. ‘Absolutely!’

  ‘I have to admit I’m mystified,’ he said, putting his cup down into the sink.

  ‘Really? Why is that?’

  ‘Mother told me you are going out with Rob McArthur on Sunday. I thought you didn’t like him. You were very definite the other week after the dance. I seem to remember you saying something along the lines of “when hell freezes over”.’

  ‘Oh! That was the punch talking that night. I’ve given the matter a lot of thought since then and I decided to give him another chance. I can’t become a hermit because of what happened with Paul. Weren’t you the one who told me I must move on with my life? Rob asked me out again the other day when I bumped into him in the canteen, and I realised I might have been hasty before.’ It felt as though she was betraying Paul’s memory and a little piece of her died inside, but she had to be strong. She hated lying to Martin, but she had to make him believe it was genuine. If Martin were constantly questioning her motives, she knew she would fail. ‘Since the bombing and all of that … well, I don’t trust my own judgement. My head is all over the place.’

  Martin sniffed. ‘Will he be picking you up here?’

  ‘No. Rob is taking me to an art exhibition in Winchester. I’m meeting him after Mass. I thought it would be an excellent opportunity to get to know him better as it wouldn’t be a formal outing.’

  Martin stared at her. ‘Why would that be a problem if you like him? It doesn’t sound terribly honest on your part.’

  Flustered, and not a little ashamed, Sarah squeaked: ‘Why all the questions?’

  Martin’s puzzled expression cleared, and he took a step towards her. ‘Because I know damn well you’re still hankering after that RAF chap. And yes, I did tell you to move on, but walking out with Rob on the rebound doesn’t seem sensible to me.’

  ‘Well, no one else has asked me out.’ Sarah found there was a lump in her throat. ‘What’s the harm? I’d like to see if Rob and I can get along.’ Even to her own ears, this sounded weak.

  Martin’s expression softened and he sighed. ‘Sorry if I’m being intrusive, Sarah, but I feel like your big brother, I suppose. And Judith isn’t here for me to boss around. If I don’t practise on you, I might lose my touch; and that, my dear cousin, would be a tragedy.’

  ‘Just my luck, eh? Thanks, you are a pet, and I do appreciate you looking out for me. You must miss her a lot. But isn’t Judith coming home next weekend?’

  ‘Unless she cancels again. I’ll wring her neck if she does.’

  ‘The lure of the big city. You cannot blame her, Martin. I wouldn’t worry about Judith; she’s just spreading her wings.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t worry that much. I know she’s having a grand old time, but Mother and Father miss her, and I don’t think she realises.’

  ‘Don’t be too hard on her, Martin. Maybe drop her a hint in a letter. And as for me, I’m no schoolgirl and I am used to looking after myself. Dublin was a tough enough place to grow up in, you know. I may be small, but I pack a punch. Now, I must get changed or I’ll catch my death.’

  ‘I’m off to join Dad in the King’s Head. Fancy joining us? I can wait for you.’ A strong undertone of apology was discernible in his words and she felt a surge of affection for him.

  Sarah smiled back at him. ‘Thanks, but not tonight. Work in the morning.’

  ‘Aye, I know that, and that’s why I need a pint,’ he replied with a grin.

  19

  18th October 1941, Hursley Park

  Sarah hadn’t slept well and was panicking. Having lied to Martin on her return from meeting Northcott, she was anxious to cover her tracks. Martin was already far too inquisitive about everything she did; if he asked Gladys or Ruth about the previous evening, it could spell disaster. He would hound her for the truth. Worse than that, he would know she had lied to him and it would damage their relationship, something she prized highly. So now she would have to tell even more lies, this time to Gladys. In one fell swoop, Northcott was turning her into a vile human being. Only the thought her actions should result in the exposure of a dangerous man kept her from backing out.

  As they finished their work at lunchtime on Saturday, Sarah caught Gladys’s eye, leaned across to her and whispered: ‘Fancy a walk before you head back to Winchester? Even a quick turn around the park?’ She nodded to the window. ‘The
rain has stopped.’

  ‘Sure. I’m not rushing back for anything. Ruth can go ahead without me, and I can catch the next bus.’

  Once their work was handed up to Miss Sugden, Gladys strolled over to Ruth’s desk. They chatted for a few moments before Ruth threw Sarah an offended glance. Then she waved goodbye and headed out of the door at speed. Gladys returned to Sarah, smiling. ‘She wasn’t happy at being left out, but I pointed out to her it was an ideal opportunity to waylay Martin on his way out of the gate.’

  Sarah chuckled as they made for the cloakroom. ‘How clever of you to use Martin. She did appear put out. That look she threw me could have curdled milk. I don’t think we will ever be close friends. I can’t help but find her annoying.’

  ‘Don’t mind her, she’s as contrary as bedamned. Though I am fond of her, she always wants to know your business, yet she is the most secretive person I’ve ever met. I’ve lived with her for months and know next to nothing about her, other than she’s from the southeast and has a couple of brothers.’

  ‘Oh, really? I didn’t even know that much. But now you say it, she rarely talks about her family. She doesn’t make it easy for a person to get close to her. None of that would matter but I find the constant judging of my behaviour and my choices a little difficult to take.’

  ‘I know what you mean. Luckily, she has given up on me,’ Gladys replied with a smirk.

  ‘How lucky you are! I wish she’d lose interest in my love life. The fact she’s walking out with Martin makes things more difficult for me. She has a loose tongue, and there are certain things I’d rather didn’t get back to him.’

  ‘Ah! I’m intrigued. Tell me more.’

  Sarah pulled on her coat and grinned. ‘Not in here.’

  They took the path away from the main house, heading towards the wooded area. ‘Now, you best confess it all. What is it you don’t want to get back to Martin?’ Gladys asked once they were out of earshot of anyone else.

  ‘It’s complicated,’ Sarah admitted.

  ‘You’ll feel better once you get it off your chest.’ Gladys gave her a searching look. ‘You seem distracted this morning.’

  ‘A sleepless night is the reason, and it’s entirely my own fault. Have you ever found yourself in a situation where you tell a small lie, but then you have to tell many more to cover it up?’

  ‘Good Lord! That’s most days for me.’

  ‘Seriously, Gladys, I’ve messed up.’

  Gladys tilted her head and gave her a kindly smile. ‘I doubt it, not on the Gladys scale of messing up. You’d best spit it all out.’

  Sarah took a deep breath. ‘Well, there are two things. The first is I need to ask a massive favour of you.’

  ‘Certainly; ask away.’

  ‘If anyone should enquire, I met you in Winchester for a drink early yesterday evening. Just the two of us,’ Sarah said, with a pleading smile.

  ‘All right … am I allowed to ask why I need to say that?’

  ‘It was stupid of me, but I had to meet someone. Well, to be honest, it was Rob. He has been at me for days to meet him for a chat. When I returned home, Martin started questioning me about where I had been. I didn’t want to admit I’d met Rob. I panicked and told him—’

  Gladys held up her hand. ‘You were with me. I get it. No need to worry. That’s what pals are for. Though I have to admit I’m surprised you were meeting Rob of all people. Not that I’m judging you. Listen, I’m happy to cover for you, and you should be ok; Ruth was out with a friend most of the evening, so if Martin should ask her, she won’t know one way or the other.’

  ‘God, yes, that’s good to know,’ Sarah replied with a sigh.

  Gladys peered at her anxiously. ‘But, well … you aren’t in any kind of trouble, are you?’

  ‘Oh no, not at all.’ Sarah did her best to smile.

  ‘Good. I don’t mind covering for you as long as you don’t make a habit of it. I’m so scatty I’d be bound to muddle it up on you.’

  ‘You’re the best. Don’t worry, I won’t ask again,’ Sarah said.

  ‘And the second thing?’ Gladys asked.

  ‘Well, that’s more in the line of advice. I’m in a quandary, to be honest,’ Sarah said. ‘You see, last night I agreed to go out with Rob again.’

  Gladys’s eyes popped. ‘He wore you down, then. My, but he’s persistent. But … I was sure you didn’t like him. I distinctly remember you saying he was boring.’

  ‘Did I? It was more that he only wanted to talk about politics.’

  ‘Exactly – dull as dishwater!’

  ‘But you can’t ignore what’s happening in the world with a war on. Anyway, I think he was nervous.’

  ‘Still, not my idea of the perfect night out,’ Gladys replied. ‘Although he’s a nice-looking lad …‍’

  ‘Yes, that is true, and that’s why I’m so confused.’ Sarah paused and stood staring off into the distance. ‘I think I was too hasty in refusing him. You see, I still had … well, have feelings for someone else. What am I to do, Gladys? I do like Rob. But I still think about Paul.’

  ‘Oh dear.’

  ‘Yes, I know, but I’ve burned my bridges with Paul, and it is unlikely he will give me another chance. Anyway, I don’t even know where he is.’

  ‘I thought you said he had joined the RAF,’ Gladys said, as they set forth again.

  ‘Yes, but I don’t know where he has been posted. There has been no communication from him, even though he promised to write. He has probably forgotten about me or met someone else. It’s no use; there is no future in that.’

  ‘That’s not enough reason to date Rob. In fact, it’s unfair on the lad.’

  Sarah groaned. ‘That’s exactly what Martin said when I admitted I was going to go out with him, but I think what put me off Rob was you saying he had been sniffing around all the tracing girls at some point. That concerned me.’

  Gladys laughed softly. ‘It’s true, though. When he first started in the company, he was always chatting up the ladies; but not only the tracers.’

  ‘Did he approach you?’

  ‘No. Why all the questions?’ Gladys asked.

  ‘I’m just trying to get a better picture of him before I take things any further.’

  ‘Fair enough, but no, he never came near me. I know little about him other than that he lives in Winchester and works in Wages. I see him on the bus most days. Sorry, that’s not much help. Ruth walked out with him as you know; maybe you should ask her,’ Gladys said, looking amused.

  ‘Oh no, I couldn’t talk to her about him. That would be too personal. But you wouldn’t know who broke it off?’ she asked.

  ‘No idea, Sarah. It didn’t go on for long. Look, if you want my advice, why not give Rob a chance? He seems a nice enough lad. You have nothing to lose and if it doesn’t work out, no harm done. Have you made arrangements to meet up?’

  ‘Yes, tomorrow afternoon.’

  ‘Excellent! You can give me all the grisly details on Monday.’ Gladys wiggled her brows and tucked her arm through Sarah’s. ‘Now, did I tell you about Kenneth from the workshop?’

  20

  19th October 1941, Winchester

  The tiny gallery-cum-shop was wedged between a post office and a fruit and veg shop. As Rob pushed open the door, a wave of heat and tobacco smoke washed over Sarah and she was instantly nauseous. The gallery was crammed with people, but Rob pushed forward. She hesitated at the door, breathing hard. A moment later, he turned and said something, but she couldn’t hear him above the din. Sarah shook her head, hunching her shoulders, but he laughed, tugged her hand and drew her into the melee. Sarah’s heart rate rocketed. Before she knew it, a glass of white wine was pushed into her hand by a young girl with a tray balanced precariously at shoulder height. Sarah took a sip: warm and it was nasty-tasting. Unfortunately, there was nowhere to put it, so she had to forge on, doing her best not to spill it over her dress.

  Rob came to a stop and pulled her forward. ‘This is Alfie
, my artist friend,’ he roared into her ear. He stood back as a lanky lad with scruffy clothes and unbrushed hair swung towards her. Alfie was barely out of his teens, Sarah reckoned. A pair of startling blue eyes scrutinised her.

  Sarah held out her hand, but Alfie ignored it, continuing to look her up and down. After a moment, he turned to Rob and said something to him before moving away into the crowd.

  ‘What did he say to you?’ Sarah demanded, taken aback by the young man’s rudeness.

  Rob leaned down, gulping down his laughter, and shouted into her ear. ‘Alfie approves.’

  ‘Oh, well, that’s all right, then,’ she replied, with a quirk of her lips. ‘Sociable chap?’

  Rob chuckled. ‘Not especially. Lives only for his art and pretty much oblivious to everyone and everything else.’

  ‘How do you know him? Are you an artist too?’

  ‘Good Lord, no. His father owns this building and happens to be my landlord. My flat is on the first floor and Alfie’s studio is in the attic above me. Don’t be put off by Alfie’s manner; he’s a fine painter. He’s only seventeen, would you believe? Alfie’s work is over on the far wall. Come on, I’ll show you. I think it will impress you.’

  They squeezed through to the other side of the room, and Rob indicated a section of the wall. Sarah gasped. There were about twenty miniature landscapes and they were exquisite.

  ‘Wow! Alfie’s really good,’ Sarah said, peering closely. Rob smiled in response and identified some locations for her. She took her time examining the various pieces, enthralled by how Alfie had captured the scenes with seemingly so little paint or canvas. Sarah recognised one painting as a stretch of the quaint cottages of Hursley, and another as the Merdon Castle ruins. In fact, all the landscapes were typical Hampshire landmarks or countryside views, from what she could see. Looking at the prices beside each one, Sarah regretted she could not afford to buy one. Maybe someday.

  ‘Afternoon, Rob,’ a male voice piped up close by. Sarah turned to see an elderly man with dark-rimmed glasses shaking Rob’s hand. ‘Thanks for coming along. I appreciate your support.’