Her Secret War Read online

  If she were honest, she didn’t want to get seriously involved, particularly if Gladys was to be believed and Rob McArthur had a roving eye. Above all, it was too soon after the fiasco with Paul and her regrets were still raw. Much as she hated to admit it, Paul was often in her thoughts; teasing might-have-beens she really ought to suppress. However, it was too late to back out. Rob was probably already on the bus down from Winchester.

  Sarah had only been in her room a few minutes when there was a tap on the door and her aunt appeared in the doorway.

  ‘Is everything all right, Sarah? You mustn’t mind your uncle. Sometimes he doesn’t know when to stop his joking.’

  Sarah laughed. ‘Not at all. Don’t worry, I can take it.’

  Alice sat down on the bed and smiled. ‘I’m glad to hear it, but I’ve scolded him all the same. Above all, I want you to be happy here.’

  ‘Aunty Alice!’ Sarah exclaimed, sitting down beside her, and taking her hand. ‘I am exceedingly happy, and you must not worry about me: I’m a lot stronger than people think.’

  ‘I’ve no doubt; I can tell you’re a little powerhouse, but you seem nervous about this date tonight. Are you having second thoughts? I can always get Martin to let the lad down gently for you.’

  Sarah chuckled at the image her aunt’s words conjured up. Martin would love to have that kind of ammunition to throw at her. ‘That is kind of you but it won’t be necessary. You are right; I’m regretting my hasty acceptance of the invitation. But he had just rescued me from my own stupidity, and it would have been churlish to refuse.’

  ‘Nonsense! Your reaction to that air raid was perfectly understandable. But I suspect that Irish boy you told me about is still in your head. I reckon it has more to do with that.’

  Sarah marvelled at how astute her aunt was and nodded. ‘Paul was special.’

  ‘Is there no hope?’ her aunt asked, gazing at her with concern.

  ‘He made it clear we would only ever be friends. I’ve had to accept that and move on. Besides, I haven’t heard from him, even though he promised to keep in touch,’ Sarah replied.

  ‘He’ll be busy, though. I’m sure the RAF will have him training hard.’

  ‘That will be it.’ Sarah glanced at her watch. ‘Now, I must get ready. Would you help me pick out something to wear?’

  Her aunt beamed back at her, delighted. ‘Oh yes. I always used to help Judith choose, you know.’ Alice went over to the small wardrobe. ‘Oh dear, we will have to do something about these,’ she said, pursing her lips as she inspected Sarah’s few items of clothing.

  ‘I’m lucky to have even those, Aunt. Everything in there was given to me by the nuns,’ Sarah said.

  ‘Well, I think this green dress might be the best option. I always like it on you.’ Alice pulled the dress out and handed it over.

  Sarah buttoned up the dress, smoothed down the skirt, and sighed. ‘It doesn’t fit well, but I do like the colour.’

  Alice came up behind her and gazed into the mirror. ‘I agree. It brings out the green in your eyes.’ Her aunt then tilted her head and frowned before reaching out and pulling in the sides of the dress. ‘Hmm, it swamps you, Sarah. If you slip it off again, it wouldn’t take me long to take in the side seams on the sewing machine. It would fit much better and show off your lovely figure.’

  ‘Really?’ Sarah turned and gave her a hug. ‘You are the best!’

  ‘Quick, hand it over, there’s a good girl.’

  Sarah slipped out of the dress, then stood regarding her reflection. Pulling back her hair, she groaned, thinking her aunt had left the room. The scar on her neck stood out livid and ugly; it was difficult to hide. She felt along the ridge of the scar and grimaced.

  ‘Does it bother you?’ Alice asked from the doorway.

  Flustered, Sarah turned to her. ‘Oh! Not normally, but it seems to bother other people. Some of the girls at work are the worst culprits. I have been wearing a scarf around my neck to hide it, but that feels like giving in. That doesn’t sit easy with me.’ It amazed Sarah that in a country where most of its citizens had experienced bombing and its devastating effects on lives and bodies, they still recoiled to see the physical markers of it. No one ever alluded to the scar or asked how she got it, but she had caught the fleeting looks of distaste.

  ‘Hold on, I may have just the thing,’ Alice said, putting the dress down on the bed and slipping out of the room. Moments later she returned, holding a small round box. ‘Try some of this.’ Her aunt pulled off the lid. It was a powder puff. ‘Dab it along the line of the scar. It won’t hide it completely, but it won’t be as obvious.’

  As Sarah patted the powder along the raised ridge of skin, the delicate scent of it was heavenly, but the translucent powder didn’t hide much. Pulling her hair down to obscure it as best she could, Sarah forced herself to smile back at her aunt through the mirror. Perhaps in a few months it would be less obvious, but there was no way she was going to let an injury dent her confidence. She was still Sarah Gillespie, survivor, and proud of it. ‘Just the ticket, thank you.’

  Alice beamed back at her before heading out the door with the dress. ‘Won’t be long.’

  Sarah walked over to the window and stared out into the gathering dusk. Could she be any luckier? Her aunt was so kind-hearted and motherly. It still amazed Sarah how quickly she had settled into life with the Lambes. After work in the evenings, the family settled down before the fire and the wireless was turned on to hear the news. Uncle Tom would sit, head bent, listening intently, a glass of stout in his hand. Once the news was over, Tom was fond of regaling her with stories of his and Ma’s childhood. Aunt Alice would chuckle and shake her head over her knitting, even though she must have heard his tales many times. With a groan and a roll of his eyes at Sarah, Martin would look up from a book or a magazine and wink. Sarah treasured the moments, adding them to her arsenal of happier memories to buffer the bad. Not since Ma had died had she experienced the novelty of being at ease at home. At No. 18, they used to sit in dread in the kitchen, waiting for the sound of the key in the lock and Da coming in. You never knew what kind of mood he’d be in.

  In sharp contrast to her own parents, her aunt and uncle’s love for each other could not be clearer. It was plain to see in looks and smiles exchanged, soft teasing and gentle caresses. Uncle Tom treated Alice with respect. That was the biggest difference. Sarah wondered how Ma could have been content with her choice; had death been a happy release? On several occasions, she had spied the bruises on Ma. Embarrassed, her mother would always turn away, covering up with shaking fingers, but not before Sarah saw the look of mortification on her face. Thank God Ma was free of Da’s brutality and could rest in peace, no more than poor Maura. With a pang, Sarah realised the bomb which had destroyed her home and her family had set her free from fear and the threat of violence.

  It felt a little strange to be going out on a date; something so normal after all the madness of the last few months. Sarah sat down at the small dressing table. As she applied the last of her lipstick, she suddenly remembered Mrs Twohig’s strange talisman. Some luck wouldn’t do any harm in the circumstances. It took her a few moments to find the medal, which she had wrapped in tissue paper and stowed in her suitcase before leaving Dublin.

  Unfolding the paper, she gazed upon the metal cross and shivered as she recalled how Mrs Twohig’s father had retrieved it from a dead soldier. How could such an object be lucky? Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea, on balance. She placed it back in the case. A positive outlook was all she needed. She had spotted Rob several times during the week in the grounds of Hursley and he had finalised their arrangements the previous day, in the canteen. She hadn’t experienced any doubts as she watched him walk away.

  However, as soon as he was out of earshot, her lunch companions had ribbed her. Ruth was very keen for Sarah to go out with him. But then Ruth had been limpet-like all week, always trying to steer the conversation round to Martin. Initially, Sarah had indulged her, but
Ruth was chasing Martin too hard, and unnecessarily too, for she was a good-looking girl and could have her pick. Was she one of those girls who loved the chase, then dropped a lad once she’d caught him? Sarah had grown fond of Martin in the short time she’d known him, and didn’t want to see him get hurt. But without fail, Ruth manoeuvred herself to be in Sarah’s company on the way out of Hursley Park in the evenings. As often as not, Martin would catch up with them and offer to walk Ruth to the bus stop. Sarah teased him afterwards, but he would just grin and shrug, clearly enjoying the attention.

  The clock struck eight fifteen as Sarah entered the King’s Head. Despite her aunt’s assurances, it felt strange to enter a public house; but Aunt Alice told her all the locals frequented it. Back in North Strand, the pubs were almost exclusively male; only a certain class of woman would enter them. Whenever Sarah had courted back in Dublin, it had involved going to dances, the cinema, or out to Dollymount Strand, if the weather was fine.

  The pub was busy and it took her several minutes to find Rob, who was sitting over a pint close to the fireplace in the rear bar area. As soon as he saw her approach, Rob jumped up and greeted her with a friendly smile, taking her hand and squeezing it. ‘What a relief! I was afraid you had changed your mind,’ he said. ‘I even thought of calling to the house. I suppose that’s what I should have done anyway,’ he said with a frown.

  ‘Not at all. And sorry I’m late; I was helping my uncle in his garden earlier and we weren’t watching the time. Then my aunt offered to adjust my dress just as I was about to leave.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter, Sarah,’ he said as he helped her take off her coat. ‘You’re here now.’ Rob stood back and looked her up and down. ‘You look amazing.’

  Sarah was taken aback. Why was he gushing? ‘Thank you.’

  Rob clasped his hands together and nodded towards the bar. ‘What would you like to drink?’

  ‘A gin and tonic, please,’ she replied, sitting down. Rob headed off to the bar and she heard him give the order to the barman. Leaning on the counter, he smiled back at her as he waited. How attractive Rob was, with his dark hair and brown eyes. Smartly dressed, he had attempted to look his best. Physically though, he was the direct opposite to Paul. Lord! She’d have to stop comparing them. It wasn’t fair to Rob.

  On the far side of the counter, Sarah spotted Martin. He raised his glass and winked. Smothering a smile, Sarah looked away from him and turned her attention to her date.

  Soon, Rob joined her, carefully carrying the drinks. ‘Here you go,’ Rob said, placing her gin down on the table. ‘Is this spot all right or would you rather sit somewhere else? Sorry, I didn’t realise the place would be so busy. I tried to find a more secluded spot so we could chat in peace.’

  ‘No, this is fine, thanks,’ she replied.

  ‘To new friendships,’ he said, raising his glass, his eyes bright.

  ‘Sláinte,’ Sarah replied. ‘Your good health.’

  ‘Is that Irish? Sounds wonderful.’

  ‘Yes, it is a traditional toast.’

  ‘How clever of you to know that,’ he said with an earnest look.

  ‘Not at all. Everyone learns Irish in school.’ The lad was too eager to please, she thought; but perhaps he was nervous. Though why someone like him would be anxious about a date was strange. In her head she could almost hear Maura, in that quiet teasing way she had had, scolding her for being dippy, and urging her to give him a chance.

  Rob’s expression clouded momentarily as he glanced towards the bar. ‘Isn’t that your cousin over there?’

  Sarah followed his gaze. ‘Yes, he’s a regular in here, same as my uncle. In fact, I think Uncle Tom was going to follow me over.’

  Rob licked his lips and cast her a quizzical look. ‘I’d forgotten how full of Supermariners this place would be. Let’s move over to the other corner. It’s more … private.’

  ‘Sure,’ she replied, wondering why Martin or her uncle’s presence bothered him. Rob really was nervous.

  When they settled down at the other table, Rob manoeuvred himself so they were sitting side-by-side, out of sight from the other part of the bar. ‘Now, isn’t this better?’ he asked, sliding an arm along the back of the seat. ‘You poor thing! I do hope you have recovered from last Friday. You were very shaken by that air raid. No long-term effects?’

  All too aware of his closeness, Sarah moved forward on the seat, a tad uneasy. ‘Gosh, no, thank you. I don’t know what came over me. All of a sudden, I was reliving the bombing in Dublin. It was strange how the siren triggered it, for there was no warning the night of the bomb in Dublin. Just as well you were on hand.’

  ‘My absolute pleasure. I could see you were distressed, and you would have been in trouble if you hadn’t left the cinema. They’re strict about evacuation.’

  ‘Yes, I can see how that would be, as you’d be putting other people at risk. Hopefully, it won’t happen again. It was embarrassing to lose control like that.’

  ‘Well, it must have triggered terrible memories. Don’t worry, I understand. We won’t mention it again.’ Sarah smarted at his patronising tone while he took a sip of his beer. ‘Other than that, how are you settling in here?’

  ‘Very well – my aunt and uncle have been exceedingly kind to me. I was so lucky they reached out to me.’

  ‘The Lambes are good people; everyone says so.’ Rob frowned. ‘I’m sorry; it must be difficult, grieving for your family and having to adjust to everything new. Do you miss home?’

  ‘I miss certain things, but after all that happened, I couldn’t see a future there. The prospect of useful work and living with family was hard to resist.’

  ‘Will you ever go back? Do you still have family there?’

  ‘It’s unlikely, there’s nothing there for me any more and any family left are virtual strangers. At the moment, I’m taking things day by day. I’m just happy to be working and to have the support of my family. What about you? Are you from around here?’ Sarah asked, hoping he’d stop dragging up unpleasant memories. Speaking of Ireland left a cold leaden sensation in the pit of her stomach. Surely he must realise there were things she would rather not remember, particularly on a night out.

  ‘No, I hail from Kent.’

  ‘Isn’t that rather far away? What brought you to Hampshire?’ she asked.

  ‘My father plays golf with a director at Vickers. As it happened, I was looking for something better than the job I was in. I tried to enlist, but my asthma prevented me, even though I haven’t had an attack since I was knee-high; but there was no persuading them.’

  ‘Which service did you want to join?’

  ‘The navy.’

  ‘You mentioned you have a brother overseas? Is he in the navy?’

  ‘No, Richard is in the army, over in Egypt.’ He grimaced and stared down into his beer. ‘Oh well; it wasn’t my destiny to go into the fray. What bothers me is the way people look at me sometimes, as if I’m shirking my duty. You can tell they’re thinking “Why are you at home when my son is off … wherever, putting his life on the line to save your sorry skin.” If only they knew what I’m doing for this country.’

  Rob’s whining tone was jarring, but what could she say? ‘That’s awful, but you need not justify yourself to anyone. We can’t all take up a gun and fight. What you are doing is helping the war effort, just differently. Besides, I’m sure your parents are relieved.’ He shot her a frowning glance. ‘I mean, that they don’t have to worry about two of you being in the line of fire.’

  Rob relaxed. ‘Yes, well, it’s not something I can change, and the job here pays well. I hope to save up enough to go to university when the war is over.’

  ‘That’s wonderful, Rob. What would you like to study?’ Sarah asked.

  ‘Languages, as I want to be a teacher. I found learning them easy at school. I seem to have a talent for it. So far, I’ve learned French and German, but I’d like to try Spanish and Italian too.’

  Sarah smiled. ‘I can�
�t imagine there’s much call for teaching German or Italian in England these days.’

  Rob chuckled. ‘Perhaps not, but the war can’t last forever.’

  ‘Didn’t they say that about the last one? Look what happened!’

  ‘Once the Yanks join in, it will be over quickly,’ he said, inching closer to her. ‘You shouldn’t worry too much about it.’

  ‘They don’t appear to be in a hurry to join us.’

  ‘It’s only a matter of time.’ Sarah felt his arm sliding around her shoulders and had to force herself not to tense up. ‘Tell me,’ he said, his voice low. ‘I’m curious about the Irish situation. Aren’t you afraid of being invaded by Jerry? I don’t understand why you’ve declared neutrality instead of joining the Allies.’

  Taken aback, Sarah chose her words with care. ‘It’s not long since Ireland gained independence, and then it was ravaged by civil war. We’re a relatively new country with few defences. The government felt it was best to stay out of it. Most Irish people agree.’

  ‘Does it not have more to do with the history between our countries?’ he asked.

  Was he being sarcastic? She wasn’t sure. ‘There is an element of that, I suppose. After eight hundred years under British rule, we value our freedom; it was hard won.’

  ‘I doubt Hitler values it much.’ Rob rubbed his chin. ‘I would have thought the Irish would be only too glad to give us Brits a kicking by joining the Nazi cause.’

  Increasingly uncomfortable, Sarah shifted in her seat and took a sip of gin. ‘There are some, a small minority of republicans, who do spout that nonsense. Most sensible people do not agree. We can see for ourselves how evil the Nazi regime is.’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ He didn’t sound convinced. Caressing her shoulder, he leaned in close and twirled a lock of her hair. ‘I’m ever so glad you threw in your lot with us Brits, otherwise we might never have met.’