A Song At Twilight (42 page)

From her open window, she could see across the fields towards the Cornish moors. The chimneys of the old mines stood out in sharp relief against the deepening apricot glow of the setting sun, and the air seemed to echo with birdsong. The airfield was quiet and she felt as if the world were momentarily at rest. This is what it’ll be like when it’s all over, she thought. Quiet and peaceful, with women waiting for their men to come home from a day’s work and the children fast asleep in bed, safe from all the fighting. In a few months, perhaps, this is what it will be like …

The sound of footsteps caught her ear and her heartbeat quickened. She could not yet see who was walking along the road, but the steps were firm, although slower than she would have expected from a man hurrying home to see his wife and child and new baby. When they stopped at the front gate, she leaned forwards to look down from the window.

It was Stefan.

As he laid his hand on the gate, he glanced up and saw her. Their eyes met and Alison felt a numbness spread over her body. She heard a roaring in her ears and felt sick and dizzy; as it cleared she found her hands clinging to the windowsill so tightly that she had almost to prise them away. She stared down at him, wanting him to smile at her, to reassure her, to tell her that Andrew was coming – he had work to do, he’d sent Stefan on ahead, anything – but his face was as frozen as hers. Dumbly, she turned away from the window and went with heavy steps down the stairs to let him in.

He was at the door when she opened it. They looked wordlessly at each other and then he stepped inside and took her in his arms.

‘Oh, no,’ she said in a muffled voice. ‘Please no …’

‘He didn’t come back,’ he said, holding her close. ‘Nobody saw what happened – he went off on his own after some Junkers. We were over France … He may be quite all right, Alison. He may be perfectly all right.’

‘Over France,’ she repeated dully. ‘He crashed, over France.’

‘Nobody knows for certain. We have to wait.’ He steered her gently towards the front room and sat her on the sofa, then placed himself beside her, holding both her hands. ‘We mustn’t lose hope.’

‘He crashed over France. Over France.’

‘It’s different now,’ he said. ‘There are thousands of Allies there. If he went down close to a camp … They have field hospitals – he could have been helped at once. He may not even be injured. You mustn’t give up, Alison. He’ll be back, I’m sure of it.’

‘Yes, of course he will,’ she said without conviction, and then, her eyes suddenly bright with anger: ‘It’s so unfair! All this time he’s been safe only a mile or so away and not allowed to come and see his own baby, and the very day he
could
come, he goes down! Why? Why do these things have to happen? It’s as if someone hates us, and wants us to suffer! What have we done to deserve it? What have we ever done?’

She burst into tears and he pulled her into his arms again and held her head against his chest. He could feel her slim body shaking and realised that this was the first time he had seen her since the night Caroline had been born. The cruel irony of it struck him yet again; that he was the one who had been with Andrew’s wife that night, he the first to see the baby, and now here he was, comforting her at the worst moment of her life.

He sighed and rested his head against her hair, feeling its silkiness on his cheek, feeling his love for her warm his heart and body. It was a forbidden love, he knew that. He could never take advantage of it, even though he had believed once or twice that Alison was close to returning it. But always, Andrew had stood in the way. Stefan had no doubt that Alison loved her husband and would never betray him. And even now, if Andrew were indeed lost and never came home, he would still stand in the way. It would be a very long time before Alison could open her heart to another man.

He felt a sudden anger with himself for even allowing these thoughts into his mind at such a moment. They must be forgotten, thrust into some darkened recess and locked away. He must never, never allow Alison to know what he felt about her; he must be a friend to her and nothing more.

Alison’s sobs subsided at last and she drew back a little, wiping her face with the handkerchief Stefan held out to her and drawing in deep, shuddering breaths. Her mouth twisted in an attempt at a smile and she said, ‘I’m sorry. I’ve made your jacket all wet.’

‘It’s all right,’ he said, still holding her. ‘It doesn’t matter about the jacket. It doesn’t matter about anything else at all. I just want to be here to help you. Cry again if you want to.’

‘I probably will,’ she said with the ghost of a smile. ‘I’ll probably cry a lot. But I’ve got to think of the children too. He never even saw Caroline. He never even had a glimpse.’

‘I know. But I’m sure he will see her, you know. I don’t think Andrew will be so easy to kill. He’s alive somewhere in France, I feel certain of it, and he’ll come back to you. You must believe that, Alison.’

‘I’ll try.’ She took in another breath and looked at him. His heart twisted a little. In her grief, she had never looked more lovely to him; he longed to comfort her but knew that he was already doing all he dared. She asked, ‘Would you like a cup of tea?’

‘Yes,’ he said, ‘but I’ll make it. And I’ve brought something to put in it – something to help with your shock.’ He took a small bottle of brandy from his pocket and set it on the small table. ‘It will do you good.’

Alison smiled faintly. ‘All right. But I mustn’t have too much.’ She glanced at the clock. ‘It’s almost time for Caroline’s feed.’

‘Perhaps I should go.’ He hesitated in the doorway. ‘I’ll make your tea and then leave.’

‘No!’ The sharpness in her voice startled them both and she gasped and then went on more quietly, ‘No, please don’t go. Stay with me, Stefan. I – I don’t want to be alone. Not tonight.’ Her eyes were enormous as she stared at him, and he hesitated again, then went back to her and laid his hands on her cheeks. For a moment, their eyes met, and then he let her go.

‘I won’t leave you alone,’ he said in a low voice. ‘I will stay, as long as you want me to.’ There was another moment of silence and then he went out to the kitchen to make the tea.

Alison sat very still. She gazed out of the window at the gathering twilight. It was time to draw the curtains and turn on the lamps.

She knew she would not hear Andrew’s footsteps coming down the road now. Perhaps she would never hear them again.

After sharing the tea Stefan made, Alison went upstairs to feed Caroline. The baby was asleep again by half-past ten, and she laid her in the wooden cradle and covered her up. As footsteps sounded on the stairs, she turned to find the Pole standing at the door of the bedroom.

‘May I see her?’ he asked softly, and Alison nodded. He came to stand beside her and they stood together, looking down at the peaceful face.

‘She is even more beautiful than before,’ he murmured.

‘I know. And the image of Andrew – that dark, curly hair, and those huge eyes. I’m sure they’re going to be brown, like his. If only he could have seen her just once!’

‘I know. It’s all wrong that I should be the one.’ He reached down and touched the baby’s cheek with one fingertip. ‘It’s like satin. She’s perfect.’

Alison moved away from the cradle. ‘She’ll sleep for hours now. She’s such a good baby – hardly ever cries. Hughie was a monster at this age.’ Her voice trembled a little. ‘I’ll just go and make sure he’s covered up. He’s such a fidget, he throws his bedclothes off all the time.’

Together, they went into the next room, where Hughie lay in a tumble of sheets and blankets, his fair skin flushed and his hair damp. Alison straightened out his bedclothes and removed the top blanket, then smoothed back the damp curls. Hughie snuffled and muttered something, then turned away, shrugging the blankets over his shoulder and burying his face in his pillow.

‘Nothing wakes him now,’ she observed, ‘but when he was a baby we hardly dared move. I suppose they’re both used to noise, with all the planes going over.’ Memory washed its pain into her heart again and her mouth trembled. ‘Oh, Stefan …’

Once again, he took her in his arms. They stood together, her head against his chest, as she struggled to control herself, then she looked up at him and said, ‘You won’t go, will you? You’ll stay with me?’

‘All night?’ he asked doubtfully, and she nodded. ‘Alison – you have to think about what people will say.’

‘I don’t care what anyone thinks, or says!’ she burst out fiercely. ‘I need someone with me. I need
you
. You’ve been such a comfort to me all these months, coming to see me in the afternoons and evenings when Andrew couldn’t get home, and then being with me the night Caroline was born, and now, when I need you most. I can’t be alone tonight, Stefan, I can’t! Please stay.’

‘Yes,’ he said after a moment. ‘Yes, of course I will stay. I don’t have to be on the airfield until the morning. I shall watch over you.’

May was out early that morning. All night, she had listened to the aircraft coming and going, and wondered whether Andrew had managed to get home yet. Her mind was filled with sorrowing thoughts of Ben as well, wishing that he could be one of those still flying. Except that then she’d be worrying over the danger he was in …

As the sun rose, sending fingers of golden light slanting through her curtains, she gave up trying to sleep and slipped out of bed. She was working at the Barton this morning but didn’t have to be there until eight. There was time for a walk before the rest of the family stirred.

In peacetime, she would have walked up to the common and strolled on the short, springy turf amongst the grazing sheep and Dartmoor ponies. But the airfield had spread itself over all her favourite walks, and since Ben had been lost it made her heart ache to see the clutter of buildings, the hangars, the bays and shelters and the long wire fence. Instead, she turned along the lane and walked down the long hill to Lopwell, where the River Tavy became tidal. There had been a mill here in earlier years, and May remembered the pleasure steamers that used to come up the river. They’d been good days, she thought, gazing down at the quiet waters – everyone walking down together for the Sunday School and church outings to Calstock, then coming home late in the evening, sunburned and tired, to sing their way through the darkening lanes. Would those days ever come again, or did they already belong to an era that was past? The war had changed and taken away so much; had it taken away that old way of life, for ever?

She walked back through the village, nodding to a few other people also out early, and went up the hill towards Alison’s cottage. She wouldn’t intrude, she told herself, but it would be nice to see if Andrew had managed to get home. However, as she came within sight of the cottage, she saw the front door open, and a tall man, wearing uniform, emerge and stand talking for a moment on the step.

May stopped. So Andrew had come home, she thought, and felt a warm surge of pleasure for her friends. She waited, not wanting to interrupt their farewell, and then a frown creased her brow.

The uniform the man was wearing was that of the Polish Air Force. It wasn’t Andrew at all.

It was Stefan Dabrowski.

Before she could move, Alison came out of the door and walked down the path with the Polish airman. They stood at the gate and May, frozen with shock, saw him take Alison in his arms and kiss her. Then he strode quickly away along the road, and Alison turned and saw May.

‘Oh, May,’ she said, and burst into tears.

May stared at her. She could think of nothing to say. Disappointment welled up inside her, together with the bitter taste of betrayal. Not that Alison had betrayed her, exactly, but her obvious betrayal of her husband had turned all May’s feelings for her upside down. She hardly knew which way to turn.

Alison held out her hands, as if begging her friend to come closer. But May felt as if her feet were nailed to the spot. She shook her head disbelievingly and found words at last.

‘I don’t understand. What be going on? What was that Polack doing here?’

‘Don’t call him that! It’s a horrible word. Stefan’s my friend, May. He came to – to …’

‘I don’t think I want to hear what he came for,’ May said stiffly. ‘He looked as though he’d been here all night.’

‘He was.’ Alison began to cry again. ‘Oh May, the most awful thing.’ She covered her face with both hands and May stared at her in bewilderment. ‘It’s Andrew. He’s missing. May, Andrew’s missing and Stefan came to tell me. They don’t know what happened to him. Nobody saw him go down. They waited to see if he would phone in, but he never did.’ She curled her fingers into fists against her cheeks, and then pressed them to her mouth. ‘He’s gone. And he never saw his baby. That’s the worst part about it –
he never even saw his baby
!’ The tears broke out again and this time May took three swift steps towards her and took the other girl in her arms. She felt Alison’s body shaking against her and cursed herself for the thoughts she had harboured. Even if she’d thought a few times that the Pole was getting too friendly, it was obvious that Alison felt no more than friendship for him. It was Andrew she loved, and now she had lost him, just as May had lost Ben.

‘Oh, you poor love,’ May said, holding her close. ‘You poor, poor love.’ She drew her back through the gate and along the path to the door. ‘Come back inside now and tell me all about it. I’ll make you a nice cup of tea.’ Crooning and murmuring, she led her friend into the front room and sat her down on the sofa. There were some blankets and a pillow there, as if someone had spent the night on it, and once again she felt ashamed of her thoughts. She pushed the blankets aside and then, on second thoughts, wrapped one round Alison’s shivering body.

‘I’ve just had some tea,’ Alison said dolefully. ‘Stefan made it. I feel as if I’ve been drinking tea all night. He came to tell me yesterday evening. I thought, when I heard him arrive, that it was Andrew. But as soon as I saw him, I knew.’ She raised anguished eyes to May’s face. ‘He’s gone, May! He always said he’d never have another crash, but I was always afraid he would, and I knew that if he did, he wouldn’t – wouldn’t – sur-survive.’ The words hiccoughed painfully out of her and she began to gasp as if she were losing her breath. ‘May! I can’t – I can’t – I can’t breathe!’