Chapter 36

Bourn, October 30 th , 1943

T he china on the dresser rattled and clinked as the vibration grew and buzzed beneath her feet. Stella placed her cup on the table and slipped out into the garden, turning her face towards the sky. The acrid smell of next door’s chimney smoke hung in the air, and across the fields, several B-17s climbed into the clouds. A warm haze filled her, despite the bracing morning breeze. Mac wouldn’t be joining them ever again. Her chest tightened at the image of him being stretchered off his ship, an image she hadn’t been able to shift from her mind. She pressed her palm to her heart as tears rushed her eyes.

He was being discharged today, and because he was on sick leave, the Colonel had given him permission to stay with them. Mrs Brown had been so sweet about it, although she had voiced concern about the morality of the situation, but as the wedding was so close, she’d agreed. Separate rooms, of course. Stella smiled to herself. Hopefully her mother wouldn’t disapprove when she arrived.

Yesterday, he’d told her his news. His flying days with the Mighty Eighth were over, though the Colonel, he said, wanted to speak with him about another appointment. She could tell that Mac was trying to be buoyant about it, but his dark, dull eyes and his downcast face whispered a different story. The darkness had snatched a little piece of him away. She knew he was going to miss it all so terribly, and he was trying to be brave. Oh, but he was brave, and now they could finally be together. The B-17s faded into the distance, eclipsed by grey clouds.

‘Stella, dear. There you are. Our guest has arrived.’ Mrs Brown beamed and squeezed past her as she headed out into the garden with a bowl of grain for the hens. Mac appeared in the doorway, his left arm in a sling and that sweet smile on his lips.

‘Oh, Mac. You’re early.’ She dashed across and wrapped her arms around him.

‘Hi, beautiful. Whoa, steady now, I’m still a little sore.’

She turned her face to his, and he kissed her. ‘I’m so glad you’re here. Now I can take care of you.’

‘Hmm, I like the sound of that.’ He rested his brow on hers and grinned, his eyes a blur.

‘Have you realised we’re getting married in two weeks?’

‘Yeah.’

His voice was so relaxed, and Stella hitched an eyebrow. ‘Well, come and sit down and I’ll make you a cup of coffee.’

‘Oh yeah, look in my bag in the hall there. I brought my own supplies.’

‘You did?’

‘Well, I couldn’t impose what with the ration and all.’

He thought of everything, and she smiled to herself. Mac sat down at the kitchen table and removed his crush cap. While she made coffee, the hairs on the back of her neck bristled and she spun around. ‘Why are you looking at me like that? You’ve got that wicked gleam in your eye, Captain Mackenzie.’

‘Oh, I was just thinking of how well you’ll fit in back home. Why, I ought to write to Mom and let her know she can finally put her feet up.’

Stella smiled. Goodness, Montana. It was so far away, and her tummy somersaulted. She sank down on the chair next to him and rested her hand on his knee. ‘Do you think they’ll like me?’

He cupped her chin. ‘Oh, honey, they’re going to love you. Mom’s excited already. They can’t wait to meet you. And Jack can’t wait to have a sister.’ He pressed his lips to hers. Mac always made everything brighter somehow, and inside she beamed.

***

Mrs Charlton arrived two days before the wedding, bringing with her a whirlwind of emotion, smiles, and laughter one minute and sobbing the next. Stella was quite overcome by it all and beginning to feel rather drained.

‘Mam, this is Mac.’ Stella held her breath for a moment.

‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.’ Mac held out his hand.

Mrs Charlton considered it and then stepped closer and hugged him. ‘Well, if you’re marrying my daughter, you’d best call me Mam, or is it Mom ?’ She laughed, and Stella exhaled as the tension flowed from her body.

Later, when Mac suggested a walk, Stella agreed. She wanted to spend as much time with him as possible; besides, in two days she would be back on duty. The day was dry, cool yet not chilled. Aside from the occasional evergreen, most trees stood bare. Chestnut, scarlet and gold leaves soared and cackled in the breeze.

‘I love the fall.’ Mac thrust his foot into a pile of yellow and red, sending them flying. They wandered up to the church and sat down on a seat in the grounds, where he wrapped his arm around her, drawing her close to his side. ‘Hey, this was our first date. You remember?’

‘Yes.’ She sighed. ‘Mac, I’ve been thinking. I feel awful about moving to America and leaving Mam on her own.’

He kissed the top of her head. ‘I know, but you heard what she said. She was pretty adamant she wants to stay here.’

‘Would she be able to come to America?’

‘Can’t see why not. She can stay with us, and we’ll look after her.’

Stella smiled and slipped her arm around his waist. ‘What if you stayed here?’

‘Well, if it comes down to it, I will, only the US Army will send me home when it’s time, and who knows how long it’ll take to get my discharge, and then I have to make my way back again.’ He turned to her. ‘I want you with me, Stella, always.’

He pressed his lips to hers and the bond that bound them squeezed her heart. She couldn’t be parted from him.

That evening, they were left alone as Mrs Brown and her mother had gone to the church to see to the preparations. Stella brought Mac a cup of coffee and placed it down on the table next to the sofa. He slipped his arm out of the sling, reached for her hand, and pulled her down to him and kissed her.

‘What was that for?’

‘To say I love you and thanks for looking after me so well.’ He kissed her again, this time more urgent, his tongue seeking hers. Stella gasped and then he was on top of her, pressing his lips to her neck, gliding to her chest. ‘Gee, I’ve missed you. Being laid up in the hospital was driving me crazy. I want you.’

‘I want you too, but we can’t. Not here.’

He stopped and looked into her eyes. ‘Two days to go and then I’ll have you all to myself.’ He raised his eyebrows.

‘Mac, honestly. Drink your coffee before it gets cold.’ She sat up and cast him one of her stern looks as she watched him reach for his cup with his injured arm. He managed to grasp it, though his hand trembled, so he quickly transferred it to his right hand. It was progress, but he still needed more time to heal.

The next morning, as Stella passed Mac’s door, she noticed it was ajar and caught a glimpse of him staring at his reflection in the mirror. His mouth was set in a tight line, his eyes filled with sadness. She held her breath for a moment, instinctively aware of his thoughts. He would never escape the bad memories. How could he when he wore the scars each day? A vulnerability crept into his face when they were out in public, and he would grip her hand tight, but she was blessed to stand proud by his side, to love and support him. Yes, acceptance would take time.

‘Mac?’ She opened the door and peered round.

‘Hey, morning.’ He strode over and took her in his arms.

‘I see you’re not wearing the sling.’

‘No. The doc insisted that I do, only I wanted to have a little time out.’

‘How does it feel, your arm?’

‘Well, right now, around you, it feels pretty good.’ He grinned.

She raised her chin and reached up to cup both sides of his face. ‘I can hardly believe we’re getting married tomorrow.’ She gazed into his eyes. ‘I love you so much and I always will, John Mackenzie.’

He pressed his brow to hers. ‘I like it when you say my proper name.’

‘I like it too. I suppose that’s what your parents call you, so I thought I’d better get used to it.’

‘Say, where’s your mom?’ Light flashed in his eyes.

‘She’s just gone out with Mrs B. Why?’

‘This is the last time we’ll be together before we’re married. I won’t see you until tomorrow.’ He gestured to the bed, and his mouth curved up into a broad grin.

‘Mac, we can’t.’

‘Sure we can. We’re all alone, and tomorrow you’ll be my wife.’

He strode across to the door and pushed it shut.

***

Stella posed in front of the dressing table mirror, her hands caressing the silk she wore, slipping over the fitted crossover bodice, the long, flowing skirt that skimmed her hips, while her eyes lingered over the elegant, flowing train. Her gaze sailed up to her neck as she relived Mac’s soft kisses from earlier that morning, kisses that had glided all the way to her breast, then lower still. Her cheeks glowed warm, and she smiled as her heart swelled in her chest. She drew in a large breath and slowly exhaled. Mrs Brown had created something exquisite out of a parachute, and she felt privileged to wear it, and she swore never to part with it. This dress had saved one life and was about to help two more begin a new journey together.

‘Stella, are you all right?’ Her mother’s voice through the bedroom door.

‘Yes. You can come in now.’ She turned to face them, and her mother beamed, then her chin trembled as tears slipped down her cheeks.

‘Oh, no, please don’t cry. I was doing so well not to.’ Tears sprang to Stella’s eyes, and she fanned her face with her hand as she blew out a breath.

‘Oh, you look beautiful, love.’ Mrs Charlton hugged her, her voice high. ‘Mac’s a very lucky man to have you. I hope he knows that.’ She sniffed.

‘Oh, I think he does, Mam. You do like him, don’t you? I mean, I know you had your heart set on Alex.’

Her mother took hold of Stella’s hands. ‘Stella, I only ever wanted you to be happy and well looked after, and I think Mac’s quite capable of taking care of you. It’s funny, but when I see the two of you together, and the way he looks at you, well, I can’t imagine a better husband.’ She hugged her tight.

‘Well now, ladies, I think we’d better get a move on. This wedding’s tomorrow, and we need to make sure this dress is fit for purpose.’ Mrs Brown blew her nose.

‘Who’s seeing to the flowers?’ Mrs Charlton finished doing up the last button on Stella’s dress.

‘Oh, yes. Mrs Thompson from up the road and some of the other ladies from the WI have had a rally round, and they’re taking flowers to the church today. You can come along this afternoon if you like and help with the arrangements.’ Mrs. Brown crouched down on the floor and arranged the train of the dress. ‘There we are. Not too short, not too long. Didn’t I say it would be perfect?’ She beamed up at Stella, her rosy cheeks flushing scarlet.

‘You did, Mrs B. You’ve been amazing. How can I ever thank you enough?’

‘Oh, well, your young man has kept us in spam and coffee for some time now.’ She laughed. ‘Knowing you’re happy is more than enough for me.’

‘Are we going to have a little drink this evening before the big day?’ Mrs Charlton surprised Stella with her suggestion, especially as she never drank.

‘Well, I’ve got Vera coming over. Her chap’s off to the pub with Mac tonight. They’re having a drink with some friends,’ Stella said.

‘Well, that’s settled then. We’ll put the radio on, I’ll prepare some food, and we’ll have a small celebration. Can I ask Mrs Thompson over, and a few of the other ladies?’ Mrs Brown heaved herself up, puffed out a breath, and smoothed down her skirt.

‘Of course. That would be lovely.’ Stella turned to the mirror, admiring the dress. Mac would be back soon. He’d gone to see the Colonel about something and then he was coming for his things as he was booked in at the Hardwicke Arms for the night. He’d been a little preoccupied over the last couple of days, although that was understandable. Such a lot had happened. But yesterday afternoon, around three o’clock, when everything that could rattled and shook when those Flying Fortresses roared overhead, she’d watched him. He’d looked up from the newspaper, and gazed out of the window, holding his breath, and she’d glimpsed the intense look of yearning that flared in his eyes.