Chapter 26

Moving Forward

M ac sat in the late afternoon sun waiting for Stella’s train, agonising over the best way to ask her about spending the weekend with him. Maybe she would be offended. A group of Canadian soldiers lugging their bulging kitbags across the platform interrupted his thoughts. They must have had a furlough this weekend. A shrill whistle sang out, and a scarlet train swung around the bend and steamed into East Grinstead Station. The brakes squealed as it came to a halt and exhaled a plume of steam. The drift of burning coal and oil hung in the air as he strode across the platform.

Carriage doors swung open and for a minute, the platform was a sea of colour as people milled around. After all the doors had closed, the guard blew his whistle. Mac’s heart thumped as his eyes darted left and right, and then as the smog of steam and smoke cleared, he saw her, standing near the end carriage, her suitcase on the ground. She flashed that shy smile she had as he strode towards her, and his heart lifted. He folded her in his arms, pressing his lips to hers right there as people all around looked on.

‘I’ve missed you.’ Dark shadows lurked beneath her eyes, and a faint yellow-brown bruise coloured her temple. Mac put his arm around her and drew her to his side. He’d never let anything hurt her again. On the way to the guest house, they walked through the park, stopping beneath an aged oak tree, where, unable to resist, he drew her close, and she giggled only to be silenced by his lips on hers. ‘Stella, I was wondering if you’d come away with me this weekend to Hastings. I’ve always fancied seeing where old King Harold met his fate.’

She laughed. ‘Actually, the Abbey is inland at Battle.’

Mac rubbed his jaw. ‘Right, well, maybe we could go inland and see it?’ He said it in a mocking tone, flashing a grin. ‘Pete told me about a sweet little guest house and before you say anything, we’ll have separate rooms, of course.’

Stella gazed at him, nervously biting her lip. ‘Mac, I’m not sure. My mother would faint if she found out.’

‘But how’s she gonna know?’

‘Hastings does sound lovely. When?’

‘Tomorrow morning. We can catch the ten o’clock train.’

‘We’re off to the party tonight, and I told Mrs Brown I’d be back on Saturday.’

‘So, call her and tell her you won’t, honey.’ He grasped her hand, holding it firm, and picked up her bag.

‘I’ll take that.’ She reached for the bag, but he shooed her hand away.

‘I can handle it just fine.’ He flashed a reassuring smile. ‘So, how about it?’

Her face was blank.

‘Hastings.’

‘Oh, all right then.’ She gazed up at him from beneath long lashes.

‘Gee, I sure am the luckiest guy around.’ He beamed, kissing her quickly on the lips, enjoying the smile that swept across her face like a breeze. ‘Come on, let’s get you settled in at that guest house. It’s only a short walk.’ He wouldn’t tell her that he’d already booked the rooms in Battle.

‘Where’s the party tonight?’

‘Oh, it’s at the home of Mr and Mrs Chester. They’re the doc’s friends, and they live nearby. Most of the boys are going.’

‘Sounds smashing. I hope they know what they’re letting themselves in for,’ she said, laughing.

After checking in at the guest house, Mac carried Stella’s case upstairs and placed it on the single bed. He strode across to the window. ‘Hey, you got tombstones for company.’ He sank into the chair, removed his crush cap, and unfastened his tunic jacket. ‘Sure is warm.’ He glanced at Stella. She seemed a little quiet, and he hoped his presence in her room wasn’t making her too uncomfortable. ‘It’s not a bad room.’

‘No, it’s nice.’ She gazed out of the window. ‘Thanks for meeting me. I hope your hands aren’t sore after carrying my bag.’ She cast a half-smile and then opened her tunic jacket.

She suited blue. It brought out the colour of her green eyes. ‘I’m okay, quit worrying about me.’ He reached for her hand and pulled her towards him, easing her down on his lap. ‘How about you let me do all the worrying?’ Over the past couple of months, he’d watched as she’d blossomed from a shy, young girl into a strong, beautiful woman, yet sometimes he saw a shadow of insecurity and he longed to scoop her up and take her away from all this. He leaned in to kiss her, slipping his arm around her waist, resting his hand on her shapely thigh. She gasped, and a mini electric current zipped right through him, and when she threaded her fingers through his hair, his skin tingled. Time to rein it in. He broke away, placing a final peck on her nose.

‘Well, I guess I’d better leave you to unpack. I’ll pick you up about seven o’clock tonight.’

‘You don’t have to go right now, do you?’

He flicked a gaze at her. The afternoon light framed her silhouette with a golden glow. God, she was beautiful. ‘I’m afraid I do because I don’t trust myself.’ He smiled and paused as they looked at one another, unspeaking, a rosy glow suffusing her cheeks.

‘Oh, Mac, your cap,’ she rushed over to him.

‘Thanks.’ He drew her close and kissed her lips as he closed his eyes, lost in a dreamy haze, sensing her warm, slender body moulded to his. ‘Sorry, I couldn’t resist.’

‘I’m glad you did.’

‘Well, I really am going this time. See you at seven.’ He took her hand and pressed it to his lips as he dreamt of a time when he wouldn’t have to say goodbye.

***

At seven o’clock prompt, Mac knocked on her door, and when it swung open, he whistled.

‘Wow, honey, you’re an absolute knockout.’

Her hair curled softly about her shoulders, spilling onto her navy-blue evening dress with a matching wrap. His gaze slipped over her defined waist, and he couldn’t help noticing the way her dress draped over her hips and accentuated her hourglass figure. He smiled when he saw how her cheeks blushed scarlet. She really had no idea how beautiful she was.

‘Say, have you seen a cute little WAAF around here? I left her a couple of hours ago.’ He smirked. ‘Didn’t I see you in a movie?’

‘Mac.’ She laughed, and a wide grin tugged at the corners of her mouth.

‘There’s just a little something missing.’ He pulled a small velvet box from his tunic pocket and flipped it open.

Stella gasped. ‘Oh, Mac. It’s beautiful. You shouldn’t have.’

He smiled and took the gold heart-shaped locket and placed it around her neck. ‘There, perfect.’

She gazed in the mirror admiringly, and as Mac dipped his head and brushed her neck with a silken kiss, she tingled.

The Chesters had a grand country home. Smart, manicured lawns stretched up towards the house, and as they strolled along the tree-lined drive, the heady floral scent of rhododendrons rose to greet them. The front door was open wide, and voices drifted out, bubbling over musical notes into the sweet, evening air. Mac steered Stella inside, and they stepped into a spacious hall with a black and white tiled floor.

Piano music flowed from another room, and Mac spotted familiar faces among the crowd. The musk of cigarette smoke blended with beer and flowed through the house. A group of guys chatting burst out laughing, all except for one. He had no lips to smile with, and his face remained expressionless, but his shoulders heaved up and down, and his body shook. Yeah, he was laughing all right.

‘Ah, another one of Mr McIndoe’s fellows, I presume.’ A tall, middle-aged man smoking a cigar descended the sweeping oak staircase. He buttoned up his navy suit jacket and held out his hand, ‘Alistair Chester. Welcome.’

Mac shook his hand. ‘Thank you for the invitation, sir. You have a beautiful home.’

‘It’s very kind of you to say so. Well, enjoy your evening.’ Mr Chester smiled at Stella. ‘There’s a bar in the dining room, just over there.’ He pointed the way, and Mac glimpsed a waiter in a white jacket standing behind a real bar, pouring a drink for a lady in a black cocktail dress.

‘Look, Archie’s here.’ Stella pointed at a group of men who stood in the middle of the room, chatting.

‘Oh, yeah. That’s John Hunter with him, one of the anaesthetists. The guys call him the gasworks.’

Stella grinned. Archie’s jolly laugh pierced through the hubbub of voices and true to form, the Maestro was holding court, with guests hanging on his every word. Mac glimpsed Pete, Doug, and Dickie, who were chatting to some very glamorous-looking girls.

Stella glanced around. ‘How generous of them to open their home like this.’

Mac plucked two drinks from a waiter’s silver tray as he sauntered by. They stood for a few minutes, sipping punch while they listened to the piano music drifting in from the next room.

‘I love classical music,’ Mac said.

‘So do I.’ Stella smiled. ‘That’s something we have in common.’

‘I bet we have a whole heap of stuff in common.’

‘How can you tell?’

‘I just know.’

She gazed intently into his eyes. The pianist ceased to play and a minute later, ‘In The Mood’ swung out, casting an air of energy throughout the house, and people leapt up to dance. A disfigured young airman asked a svelte brunette in a red floral dress if she would like to dance. She took his outstretched hand as he twirled her around. Archie danced with Mrs Chester and Mac caught sight of Pete twirling Bea around the floor and smiled to himself. He knew she was sweet on him.

‘Shall we?’ Mac put his glass down and held out his hand.

‘I thought you’d never ask.’

He drew Stella close and gazed dreamily into her eyes, which tonight burned bright with an intensity he’d never seen before. She seemed different all of a sudden, more assured. Her hair glinted beneath the grand crystal chandelier. The other people, sights, and sounds faded into the background. There was no denying it. He loved her, body, and soul, and although he longed to marry her, the last thing he wanted was for her to be left alone, maybe with his child. He nuzzled the top of her head as she rested against his chest.

As musical notes melted away, Archie strode over flashing a wide grin. ‘It’s lovely to see you again, my dear. How are you?’

‘I’m absolutely fine, thank you. Fully recovered.’

‘Well, that’s a relief, because I’ve got a favour to ask.’ He raised his eyebrows and glanced at Mac. ‘Didn’t I say she was a fighter?’

‘You sure did, doc.’

‘Stella, would you sing for us? You have such a beautiful voice, and it’s such a shame to waste it.’

She smiled and a rosy glow tinted her cheeks. ‘Just the one, then.’

‘Splendid. Come this way.’

They followed Archie into the drawing room, and he introduced Stella to the pianist. She opted to sing The White Cliffs of Dover , watching as Mac ambled across the room to chat with a couple of the guys from the ward. As Stella sang the first words, a hush descended, and people looked up, while others moved closer to listen, but Stella kept her eyes on Mac. His heart swelled, and the hairs at the nape of his neck bristled. When the song ended, she bowed while everyone applauded, but her most enthusiastic supporter was Archie, who smiled so broadly his cheeks must have ached.

‘Doesn’t she have a beautiful voice, Mac?’ Archie slapped him on the back.

‘She sure does.’

‘Well done, my dear. Have you ever thought of singing professionally?’

‘Oh, I don’t think I’m that good.’

‘Nonsense. You’re a natural. It’s worth considering if you’re ever at a loss. Perhaps once this war’s over.’

‘Are you propositioning my girl, doc? She isn’t going to have time for that anyway, not with what I’ve got planned.’ Mac cast a knowing smile, and he took Stella’s arm and led her outside into the garden. Alone at last. The late evening sky grew scarlet, with a streak of peacock-green, as the light remained while the setting sun clung to this side of heaven.

‘It’s a beautiful night.’ Stella turned her face to where a star glittered all alone.

‘It sure is from where I’m standing.’ He smiled coyly, losing himself in emerald green. He took a deep breath. ‘Stella, there’s something I have to say. I’m having another operation next week, and that might be all I need for some time.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, after that the doc says he can discharge me, so they’ll be sending me back to my squadron.’ Her face fell, and he drew her to him and wrapped his arms around her. ‘You know I have to do this.’

‘I know.’ Her voice was thin and high. ‘Only I can’t bear the thought of it.’ She squeezed her arms around him.

‘At least I’ll be near you again, and we can see each other as often as we can. It’s been killing me being so far away.’ His lips brushed the top of her head, and she began to tremble. Was she crying? ‘Hey, honey. Look at me.’ He cupped her chin with his hand, and slowly she turned her face to his. Her misted eyes glinted with the last vestiges of light.

‘Please, Mac. Don’t ask them to take you back. Do something else. Anything except flying.’

He stiffened. ‘If I don’t do this, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.’

Her face reddened, and she stepped away from him and wrapped her arms around herself, her ruby lips settled into a tight line.

If only he could make her understand. His chest tightened as he slipped his hand into his jacket pocket and grasped the small velvet box. ‘I can’t explain it. I don’t want to do it. I have to do it because it’s my duty. It’s the only way to make sure we win this war.’

‘But why you ? You could be safe.’

He heaved out a breath and gazed up into the sky as if he could pluck an answer from among the sailing clouds. Safe.

‘Were you safe caught up in the bombing? You sheltered just around the corner from a direct hit.’ Red drained to soft pink as her eyes widened. ‘You were nearly killed, Stella. No one’s safe anymore, and it’s up to us to do something about it.’

He closed his eyes for a few seconds and Bill’s face slipped into view, wearing that grin of his that stretched from ear to ear when he heard the news he was a father. His words sang. I have a son . A son he would never see. A savage pain squeezed Mac’s chest, catching his breath, and he uncurled his fingers from velvet and dragged his hand from his pocket. He couldn’t do that to her. This was hard enough, and it was crushing her. He couldn’t make promises. Not yet. He folded her in his arms and nuzzled her hair. Piano music drifted out through the open windows, velvety notes. ‘Clair de Lune,’ he murmured. And it would have been so perfect. ‘I love you so much, and I always will.’

Stella sniffed. ‘I’m scared. I do understand, really.’

He cradled her against him. She didn’t have to explain. They were all scared. How could you not be when everything was so uncertain?

‘I love you, Mac.’

Four silken syllables, heaven-sent. He closed his eyes. ‘You’re my girl. Always will be.’