He worked hard and brought enough money home to keep them all in reasonable comfort. If it wasn’t for Stephen they would be poor as church mice.
‘Hungry, Stephen?’ she asked.
‘I’ll be dishing up for the lad in a minute, don’t worry.’ Hilda had softened, she seemed to have picked up on Kate’s thoughts. ‘After all, Stephen is master of the household now. We are beholden to you, Stephen, and grateful.’
Kate examined Hilda’s words for sign of sarcasm but found none. Hilda was truly grateful to him. Stephen was embarrassed.
‘No need to be grateful, it’s me should be grateful, I’ve got a home and a family now and me with my ugly mug all scarred and burned—I’m one lucky blighter.’
Kate felt tears well in her sightless eyes and her fingers curled in his.
‘To me you will always be the handsome boy I first knew back in those days in the Glyn Hall,’ she said softly.
She heard Hilda move sharply from her chair and leave the room. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said to her husband, ‘she’s still grieving over Eddie and,’ she sighed, ‘so am I sure enough but you are very dear to me Stephen, never forget that.’
‘And you are the most beautiful girl in the world, my Kate. I never knew I could love anyone as much as I love you.’
In the next few days Kate’s suspicion became a certainty: she was expecting Stephen’s child. She was excited, thrilled and fearful. There were doubts in her mind, worries more like. Would her scars hold, would Stephen be pleased even though it meant another mouth to be fed—and what would Hilda think?
She waited till nightfall and then went to see Hari. Darkness was no threat to Kate, for her it was always dark. In any case, she knew the streets of Swansea well enough. To her delight, Hari was home from work.
‘Kate! My lovely girl, what are you doing out alone when there could be an air raid any time? Come in, come in. There, sit by the fire while I pour you a drink of sherry.’
Kate felt for the chair and sat down. It wasn’t cold outside and yet the heat from the fire was comforting. When the drink was poured, Hari guided her hand to the glass. ‘I’m so glad you came,’ Hari said, ‘I’m so worried.’
Kate’s spirits lightened, she wasn’t the only one with problems, her dear friend Hari had some too by the sound of it.
‘What’s wrong, Hari, is it Meryl again?’
‘Partly.’ Kate listened while Hari told her of the night the military police had come looking for Michael. ‘Since then they’ve both disappeared into thin air.’ Hari’s voice was breaking. ‘I’ve been to the farm and no one’s there. Jessie’s gone away and the farmer next door is looking after the stock.’
‘Michael will get in touch with you, Hari, to be sure he will.’
‘How can he when they’re looking for him to arrest him for being half German. They think he’s a spy or something.’
‘Look,’ Kate said firmly, ‘if he’s got Meryl with him he’ll be just fine, you know what’s she’s like.’
‘I do.’ Hari’s voice had lightened. ‘She’s a bossy little boots but she’s strong and efficient, she’ll work it out, you’re right enough, Kate. I’m so glad you came and talked sense to me.’
As Kate put down her glass, feeling carefully for the edge of the table, the siren shattered the silence of the little kitchen. ‘Well, you’ll have to be bossy and efficient now,’ Kate said dryly, ‘come on, take me to the nearest shelter.’
Later, when the all-clear sounded, Hari walked Kate to her door and hugged her. ‘I’m not coming in,’ she said apologetically, ‘I’ve got to be up early in the morning. Take care and love to Stephen. You’re lucky to have him you know.’
‘I do know.’ Kate’s words were heartfelt.
She waited until she and Stephen were in bed and then she put her arm around his broad chest and felt his hair tickle her skin. ‘I’ve got something to tell you so I have,’ she whispered.
‘I know,’ he whispered back.
‘How can you know?’
‘I’ve got eyes. Sorry! That was crass of me. Your eyes are so beautiful I sometimes forget you can’t see.’
‘I can’t be showing yet,’ Kate protested. She felt her belly. It wasn’t as loose and fat around the scars as it used to be but it was still not flat and hard as the body of a young woman should be.
‘Hilda told me,’ he said.
‘Hilda knows?’
‘Obviously.’
‘Well, I’ll go to the bottom of our stairs.’ Kate felt relief surge through her as she had dreaded the ordeal of telling Hilda the news and the old woman had known almost before she had.
‘Are you pleased?’ she whispered to Stephen.
‘Pleased? I’m damn well delighted,’ Stephen whispered in her ear. ‘In fact so pleased I think we should make sure just in case.’
He took her in his arms, so gently, so tenderly, and as Kate clung to him, she felt tears of happiness begin to roll down her cheeks. If she couldn’t have her Eddie, there was no other man she’d want to be with but Stephen.
Thirty-One
The fishing boat chugged its way slowly down the coast towards the Irish Channel and I stared at the water fearing the depth of the sea beneath the ship even though one of the fishing crew assured me it was as calm a day as I could ever wish to see.
We were travelling in a weather-beaten fishing boat and had been blown off course in a storm. It had pulled into shore at Milford Haven on the coast of Wales to be repaired, which was a stroke of luck for me and Michael. It was an Irish ship flying the Irish flag to show its neutrality, so there was little chance of it being attacked by a submarine or so the sailor assured me.
I looked at Michael. He was staring into the distance, no doubt hoping, as I was, to reach land. The sea journey to Cork would take many hours but at least I was with Michael. I had got him away, me, Meryl Jones, not my beautiful sister Hari. The thought gave me a warm feeling of triumph even as a pang of guilt shot through my chest. Though ‘my chest’ was no longer flat but was a fully grown ‘bosom’ now.
My Irish accent, and I was always a good mimic, copied from Kate had been good enough to convince the captain that I just wanted to get home from a war-torn Britain. Still it had taken most of our money to persuade the man to take us on his boat.
‘You could be spies,’ he’d said. I’d patted my fake belly. ‘Do I look like a spy to you?’ And at last convinced, he decided to take us.
It grew dark after a few hours and the sea was black and more intimidating than ever. I thought of the German submarines that lay off the coast of Ireland ready to pounce on our British ships returning from abroad, and trembled.
Michael sensed my fear and took my hand. ‘Be calm,’ he said, ‘we’ll soon reach dry land and you can have the baby in peace.’
If only he was my husband, if only there was his baby safe inside me, how happy I would be. One of the merchantmen smiled at me.
‘When’s it due? I’ve got two little ones of my own so I have.’
I thought quickly. I looked quite big but I didn’t know quite how many months I would be to look this size. I played it safe. ‘Not long now.’ I lowered my eyes bashfully. ‘It’s a honeymoon baby.’
He winked at Michael. ‘You’re not a Jaffa then?’
I looked at Michael, frowning. ‘Seedless,’ he said, briefly looking embarrassed. I tried not to laugh. Suddenly I felt happy, every moment the ship was taking us away from danger, from the men who wanted to arrest Michael, perhaps charge him as a spy, shoot him even. If he had nothing to hide why didn’t he declare himself, that’s what they would say.