A Song At Twilight (26 page)

However, he was no longer a child. He had come to manhood by a hard, brutal route and they knew that any battles would be all the harder to fight.

‘Ben,’ Olivia said, her voice trembling, ‘tell us the truth. There isn’t any – any
reason
why you should get married, is there? You haven’t done anything,’ she hesitated, searching for the right word, ‘
foolish
?’

‘Foolish?’ He stared at her, now truly indignant. ‘No, I haven’t! May’s a decent girl. And I’d have thought you’d know me better!’

‘We do, we do.’ John’s voice was calming again. ‘All the same, it does happen. We all know that.’ There was a pause while everybody thought, but nobody said,
Look at Jeanie
. ‘And you also know that your mother and I wouldn’t judge anyone it happened to.’ Again, they thought of Jeanie, taken into the vicarage when her own parents had turned her out. ‘You must admit, it’s rather sudden.’

‘I don’t think so,’ Ben said. ‘It seems to me as if I’ve known May all my life.’

There was a short silence. Then Olivia said in a quiet, rather piteous voice that indicated that she was retreating again into her own sorrow, ‘But Ben, you’re so young. And this girl – what is she, seventeen, eighteen? Neither of you have had a chance to grow up yet.’

‘As a matter of fact,’ Ben said, ‘May’s twenty-three.’

‘Twenty-three?’ Olivia stared at him, aghast. ‘But that’s three years older than you!’

‘Nearly four, as it happens. I don’t see that that matters.’

‘And what are her family? You talked about a cottage. What does her father do – what
did
he do, I mean, before he was injured?’

‘He worked on the farm; so did her grandfather. They’re plain, honest country people, Ma, like dozens around here. The sort you always call “salt of the earth”.’

‘I see,’ she said, and his anger flared up again.

‘I hope you’re not going to be a snob about this. May’s a lovely girl. You haven’t given her a chance! You haven’t even seen her but you’re taking against her already. I thought you’d be pleased that I’d found someone so – so good and so nice and so pretty. I never thought—’ He stopped abruptly as his mother began to cry. ‘Oh Lord, I’m sorry, Ma. I’ve done this all wrong. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything, but – but I had to.’ He waited, looking apologetically at his father, while his mother regained her fragile composure, then said, ‘I had to tell you, because – well, look, we all know something big’s blowing up. We don’t know when it’s going to happen, but it’s on the cards that we’ll be invading France before long. And I’d like to be married before that happens.’ He looked at them both, and this time there was pleading in his eyes. ‘And I need your permission.’

‘Our permission …’ Olivia said faintly. ‘Yes, of course. You’re not twenty-one until June. But surely you can wait until then!’

He sighed. ‘I can’t, Ma. We don’t know what’s going to happen or when. Look,’ he reached out and put his hand on hers, ‘I know this isn’t the way you wanted it. I know you’d have liked to plan a wedding with the bride’s mother and have a big do and everything. But it just isn’t like that these days. Nobody can wait that long. And May’s family wouldn’t want that kind of wedding anyway. They’re ordinary, simple people. They’d just want their family and friends in the village church and then go back to the cottage for a ham tea. That sort of thing.’ He looked at his father. ‘I’d want you both to come, of course. I’m sure the local vicar wouldn’t mind you officiating.’

There was another short silence. Then Olivia said, ‘You talk as if we’ve given our permission already.’

‘Sorry, Ma.’ He gave her his most engaging grin. ‘That’s me all over – jump in with both feet. But you are going to, aren’t you?’

The Hazelwoods looked at each other. There was something in Olivia’s eyes and expression that Ben couldn’t read. At last, his father said with a sigh, ‘This isn’t something we can decide all in a few minutes, Ben. We’ve got to talk it over first.’

‘But, Dad, there isn’t
time
.’

‘There has to be. I’m sorry, Ben, but you can’t expect us to rush into this. You talk about jumping in with both feet, and yes, that’s always been one of your problems. Perhaps because you were the youngest we’ve always allowed you a little too much of your own way. But we’ve always tried to guide you in the right direction, and on the whole you’ve accepted that guidance. This time, though …’

‘Dad, for God’s sake!’ Ben caught his father’s sudden frown and apologised hastily. ‘Sorry, but you’re still treating me like a child. I’m a
man
now, fighting a man’s war. I fly an aeroplane. I’m trusted to make life-or-death decisions. It’s ridiculous that I can’t also be trusted to make a decision about my own life. This asking your permission – it’s just a formality. I didn’t even think we’d bother to discuss it.’

‘But why are you in such a hurry?’ Olivia asked. ‘You’ll be twenty-one in a few weeks, you won’t need our permission then. Why not wait? Give yourselves time to plan something. I’m sure May’s parents would rather you did that anyway.’

‘Yes, that’s a good point,’ John said. ‘What do May’s parents think about all this?’

Ben looked down at the floor. ‘As a matter of fact, they don’t know. We haven’t talked to them about it yet.’ He hesitated again. ‘What’s more, I haven’t even asked May. I wanted to be able to tell her we could go ahead as soon as possible. But I know she’ll say yes!’ he added fiercely, raising his head again. ‘I
know
she will!’

‘If you don’t mind my saying so,’ his father said mildly, ‘nobody knows for certain what someone else will say until they ask them.’ He looked at his son. ‘Why don’t you do as your mother suggests? Plan – if May agrees to marry you at all – for a June wedding. You won’t need anyone’s permission then. The RAF’s not like the Army. And we’ll come down, and Alexie too if she can get away, and if the local vicar really doesn’t object, I’d be delighted to officiate. Don’t you think that would be best?’

‘No,’ Ben said doggedly, ‘I don’t. I’ve told you, there’s something big brewing and we don’t know what will be happening or where we’ll be in June. There’s a war on, Dad, in case you haven’t noticed.’ He stood up, hurt and misery in every line of his face and body. ‘I’m sorry to have upset you both – especially you, Ma. I never meant to do that. I thought I was bringing you good news. I thought you’d be pleased. I think I’ll go to bed now.’ He paused. ‘I’ve got to go back in the morning, but I promised to spend some time with Jeanie and Hope. I suppose there’s no point in us talking about this again, but if you change your minds …’ He bent and kissed his mother’s cheek awkwardly. ‘I’m sorry, Ma.’

He was almost at the door when his mother, lifting her face from her hands, said, ‘And what about Jeanie?’

Ben stopped. He turned and took a step or two back towards her. His face was shocked.

‘Jeanie? What do you mean –
what about Jeanie
?’

Olivia met his eyes steadily. ‘Surely you realised. Surely you’ve known that she was in love with you, and that we all thought you felt the same about her, and about Hope, your goddaughter? So what are you going to tell
her
about this – this May person? Or haven’t you even given that a thought?’

It was rare for Ben to sleep badly, but he tossed and turned all through that night, his mind a jumble of anxious thoughts. He was torn with guilt over having upset his mother and, therefore, his father who had looked to him to give her some comfort; at the same time, he was filled with resentment at their reaction to his news. Not that it was exactly ‘news’, he thought miserably, since he hadn’t even asked May to marry him – and when he’d hinted at it a week or two ago she’d seemed almost dismayed at the idea, thinking that his parents wouldn’t consider her good enough for him. But that could have been dealt with. It needed only for his mother and father to meet her and reassure her; and he’d taken it for granted that they would love her just as much as he did. How wrong I was, he thought bitterly.

In fact, their main objection appeared to be that he was ‘too young’.
Too young
! Not too young to give his life in a war of someone else’s making, not too young to defend his country, but too young to decide how live his own life – always assuming that he was allowed to go on living it. It’s stupid, he railed silently as the hours ticked slowly by, it’s
criminal
that we have to wait until we’re twenty-one to do all the things we ought to be able to do, like vote – take charge of our own money, and get married. It wasn’t fair!

And then there was Jeanie. His mother had been right there – it had never occurred to him that Jeanie had any aspirations in his direction. He’d known her ever since she came here from Portsmouth, pregnant, frightened and grieving for her sweetheart, lost at sea. His parents had taken her in then and looked after her with all the kindness he would have expected of them. They’d grown fond of her, just as he had himself, and he’d meant it when he told her that she was as good as a daughter to them. But for heaven’s sake, he’d never expected to
make
her their daughter! Even that time when he’d kissed her, he’d never seen Jeanie as a possible wife. It had been just a moment of affection – a little more than casual affection, perhaps, but never developing into anything else.

At least it shows they’re not snobs, he thought, faintly heartened. If they’d accept Jeanie, they wouldn’t think May was beneath me. At least I can tell her that.

It still didn’t mean they’d let him marry her before June, though. And it didn’t make things any easier for him where Jeanie herself was concerned. If she really did have hopes of marriage sometime …

No! He couldn’t believe it. He didn’t want to believe it – it made everything even more complicated. But he knew that he would have to talk to her about it, and he would have to do so in a few hours’ time – before he went back to Harrowbeer.

‘… So you see, Jeanie, I’d really like to get married as soon as possible,’ he finished next morning. ‘But Dad and Ma – well, they just don’t seem to understand.’

They were sitting on a fallen tree-trunk in a little wood at the edge of the village. Ben had had his breakfast alone, his father having already gone to the church to take early service and his mother being not yet up. Jeanie had offered him an egg as well as the Weetabix he’d eaten, but he’d refused. Afterwards, he’d asked her to come for a walk and she had left her work and called Hope from the garden. They’d walked down the lane in silence, the little girl skipping in front of them.

‘What’s the matter, Ben?’ Jeanie asked at last. ‘I took your mother a cup of tea and she didn’t look as if she’d slept a wink. I thought she’d want to come down and have breakfast with you, but she said no, and she didn’t want me to take anything up either. There hasn’t been bad news about Ian or Alexandra, has there?’

‘No,’ he said. ‘I’m afraid I’m the one who brought bad news, Jeanie. The trouble is, I didn’t think it was going to be bad news – I thought they’d be pleased.’

‘Pleased about what?’ she asked, after a tiny pause.

He looked at her, struck by the note in her voice. She knows, he thought. She knows what I’m going to say. And, immediately afterwards – Ma was right. She
did
think that maybe I might …

He couldn’t finish the thought. For a moment, he wondered about simply saying no more. She wouldn’t insist, not if he said it was family business. She wouldn’t pry. But the idea slipped out of his mind as quickly as it had slipped in. He knew that he had to tell her.

He drew her over to the tree trunk and they sat down. Jeanie faced him and he met her eyes.

‘I want to get married,’ he said quietly. ‘I’ve met someone in Devon that I want to marry.’

The pause was longer this time. He thought she turned a little pale, but her gaze didn’t waver. After a moment, she said, ‘I see.’

Ben ploughed on. ‘She’s called May. May Prettyjohn. She lives near the airfield.’

‘Oh, so she’s not a WAAF, then?’ Jeanie said brightly. ‘Somehow I thought you might fall in love with a WAAF.’

‘No, she’s not a WAAF. She’s—’

‘I expect she’s a doctor’s daughter or something like that. Or a nurse, like your sister?’

‘No, she’s nothing like that. She’s just an ordinary girl, Jeanie. A bit like you, as a matter of fact. She lives in a cottage with her mother and father and grandfather. She doesn’t have to join the Services because she’s needed at home – her father’s bedridden – but she does a lot of war work and she helps the wife of my Squadron Leader in the house. That’s how I met her. And she’s three years older than me, and that’s all,’ he finished a little desperately.

Jeanie looked away into the trees, where Hope was picking some early bluebells.

‘A bit like me,’ she said. ‘Not glamorous or anything. Not posh. Just – a bit like me.’

Too late, Ben realised that this was the last thing she had wanted to hear. A smart, well-dressed girl from a ‘good’ family, someone who had been educated at an expensive school – someone like Alison Knight, for instance – she could have understood and accepted. She’d probably even expected it. But an ordinary girl, ‘a bit like her’ was almost an insult. He could see the thought in her mind: Why wasn’t I good enough?

‘Jeanie,’ he said, reaching for her hand. ‘Jeanie, please don’t be upset.’

‘I’m not upset!’ She turned her head quickly, meeting his eyes. ‘Why should I be upset? I’m pleased for you, Ben, I really am. I want you to be happy.’ She turned away again. ‘I just want you to be happy,’ she repeated in a whisper, and he could hear the faintest of quivers in her voice.

‘Oh, Jeanie,’ he said helplessly.

For a few moments, neither of them spoke. Then she drew in a deep breath and faced him again. Her cheeks were still pale but her mouth was firm. He thought how pretty she was, and how brave in all that she’d suffered, and wished for a moment that he could have loved her. But he’d met her too soon, when he was too young to know what love was, and when she was too frightened and unhappy, and their moment had passed. It might have come again, but May had come instead and now it was too late.

‘Tell me about her,’ Jeanie said. ‘And tell me about your mother and father too. Are they really against it?’