Live to Tell (16 page)

Not knowing much about military life, I wasn’t capable of thinking about anything and clung to him as he tried to sort out the food.

“I’ll put this in the oven for ten minutes,” he said. “Otherwise, it’ll get cold. Here, have my hankie.”

“They can’t do this to us.”

“Unfortunately they can,” he said miserably. “With the Army, wives come really low down in the pecking order. Girl friends, well they might as well not exist. They aren’t reckoned at all by the powers that be. We wouldn’t even be allowed to live together, let alone be helped to find somewhere to live. It wouldn’t be so bad if I was going into a combat zone. At least I’d feel I was doing some good, but fucking Herford. It really is the pits. You’d hate it there, be bored out of your mind. And now that you’ve just started your new course, I wouldn’t let you throw everything up to follow me.”

I stared at him in horror. “Can’t you complain? Say you don’t want to go?”

“Well, I could. But they wouldn’t take any notice and I’d get a black mark against my service record for even trying to dodge it. No, I don’t have any choice. I should have seen this coming.”

When I calmed down, he served up the meal and I sat glumly opposite him, picking at the food and feeling as if the bottom had fallen out of my world. He watched me and bit his lip.

“There is something we could do, to make the situation a little better,” he said. I looked up bleakly.

“Will you marry me? I know that rushing things means it wouldn’t be the sort of wedding you would want, but we could get a special licence. Then I’d be able to get home more often and if anything happened to me, you would be cared for.”

“What’s going to happen,” I shrieked “Won’t you be safe?”

“Of course I will, but if we were married, I could put my name down for a married quarter. Then when I return to the UK we could live together properly. None of this sneaking about.”

I stared at him, a tear rolling down my face again.

“Oh, OK forget it. I guess you don’t think it’s much of an idea,” he said. “I was going to ask you properly, have a proper wedding. It’s just that with this coming up, it’s turned everything on its head. I’m sorry.” He looked desperate.

I got up and walked slowly round the table.

“I’d be very honoured to marry you. I don’t need a big wedding. As long as you are there, I’d marry you in a field. You can’t imagine how happy you’ve made me.”

Sobbing, I broke down again and sat on his lap, and he held me close to him.

“There, there. Don’t cry. That’s settled then. Tomorrow shall we check out Marylebone register office? Find out how much notice they need?”

I nodded. “Then we’ll have to tell my mum. She’ll kill me.”

As Danny and I walked hand in hand up the curved path to my parents house Dad opened the front door.

“You two look unhappy. What’s up?”

I kissed him on the cheek. “We’re OK.”

We went into the dining room and Danny sat down. It was a warm day and bright sunshine streamed in at the open windows. Mum’s lemon coloured net curtains were rippling in the breeze, her brown velvet winter curtains not yet replacing her floral summer ones. She followed us in and stood next to my father, an anxious look on her face. Realising that she would be very disappointed at our news, I walked over and gave her a hug.

“We’ve come to tell you that we’re getting married in two weeks time. I’m sorry Mum, I know it’s not what you had in mind but…”

“Oh no, there I knew it. What did I tell you Alan? Oh, in this day and age, this is really too much.”

“Can’t you hold on for a bit,” asked Dad. “Surely a few more weeks isn’t going to make such a difference. At least it would give your mother and me some time to plan the event.”

I opened my mouth to speak but he silenced me. “Just let me finish, please. Even under these circumstances, your mother could still get some pleasure out of the day and the people you invite won’t mind what the situation is. What about waiting until November? That would give us all some breathing space.”

“November? We can’t wait till November. He’ll be gone by then. He’s got to go in three weeks time.”

Danny stood up again. “I’ve only just found out, Alan, Mrs. Scanlon. I’m sorry. It wasn’t until Friday night that I got the letter. We’ve been to Marylebone Town Hall and booked ourselves in. I’m really sorry. I knew this would be a shock. I should have realised it was likely to happen, but when you are happy you don’t expect a disaster over the horizon, and I feel a bit out of my depth. I blame the sergeant major, but he’d never admit it was his doing. He’s never liked me. Sometimes he calls me “Mr Lah De Dah Gunner Graham”. You know, off that stupid old TV programme, just to get up my nose. Thinks it’s funny!”

Dad turned to my mother and shook his head.

“Can we start again,” he said, “from the beginning please?”

“Danny’s got to go to Germany, Dad. And he might be there for a whole two years, while I’m trapped here at college. Things are bad enough without you being difficult as well. I don’t believe this. I thought we might get some sympathy. Everything is just horrible.”

I’m not going to cry, I thought. I’m not, I’m not not here.

“Oh, darling,” said Mum, placing her arms around me. “I’m so sorry. And you,” she said turning to Danny. “Give me a hug.”

I burst into tears, yet again.

After we finished lunch, which had culminated in Danny’s favourite, mum’s home-made apple pie and custard, we took cups of coffee into the sitting room and sat down to talk about our situation. I still felt very depressed and their first response to our news hadn’t helped. Mum was obviously trying to compensate for her initial shocked reaction and kept smiling encouragingly.

“Can we come to the wedding ceremony? And would you mind if your Aunt Jess came as well?”

“Of course you can come. That would be lovely, Mrs. Scanlon. It’s only because of the rush that there isn’t time to organise anything more… . er more… complicated.”

“To be honest, Danny, doing things like this, you are saving Dad a fortune. Aren’t they, Alan?”

A week later, even though it was Saturday, my alarm clock sounded. I put it on hold for half-an-hour but then its insistent ringing penetrated my fuddled brain.

“Ugh, I’m so tired,” I mumbled. “But I must get out of bed. It seems too early but if Mum’s coming at ten thirty, I need time to get ready. Oh, I wish she wouldn’t interfere. I don’t want to spend hours going round Selfridges. With time so short I want to spend every minute with you.” Reluctantly, I sat up and searched for my slippers.

“She means well,” mumbled Danny from under the duvet. “You’ll just have to humour her. She wants you to have a new dress or something. I don’t mind if you don’t wear anything, but you’d get cold.”

I pulled back the quilt and glared at him, but he just smiled with his eyes shut.

After I had dressed, Danny still lay cuddled up in bed. The night before, we went back to the Byblos Club near Regent Street and did not get home until after two a.m. We both felt exhausted.

“You’ll have to get up,” I said gently. “She won’t approve of your sleeping here. You know what she’s like. She’ll moan at me all day if she thinks anything immoral is going on. Come on. While you have a shower, I’ll make you a cup of coffee. We’ve got half-an-hour yet.”

He moaned and turned over. “Oh, OK,” he said. “If you say so.”

“Yes.” I poked him in the ribs, afraid that he’d fall asleep again.

He was in the shower, I was making the coffee and the door bell rang! I ran back up the corridor and banged on the bathroom door to warn him, before mentally smoothing myself down and putting a smile on my face. I opened the front door to find my father standing there, as well as Mum, who had a big smile on her face.

“Hello, Darling,” she said. “How are you?”

“Hello. Fine. Come in. How lovely to see you both. Wasn’t expecting you, Dad.”

“I thought I might as well drop your mum off. Save her waiting around for trains. Then the journey seemed to take a lot less time than I thought it would. I guess I’m not used to travelling up to town at the weekend.”

Just then, Danny charged into the room. “I heard a bang! What’s happ… ?”

His wet hair was standing up on end. He was clutching a towel and he was not wearing a stitch of clothing.

“Oh, shit,” he said and ran out again.

Mum’s smile disappeared. She glared at me and we both blushed. Dad smiled and looked away. My mum started shaking her head and muttering but I closed my ears to her and Dad said, “For goodness sake, Sandra. They
are
getting married next week. It was just an accident.”

“She’s still only nineteen, a teenager and I’m still responsible for her well being. I don’t like this casual way of living. You know I don’t.”

“It is 1988, not 1950. You should be pleased that they
are
getting married. Most of the people I work with don’t seem to bother.”

“I don’t care. This is our family, not theirs.”

When Danny returned a minute later, this time fully dressed he said, “Sorry about that. I thought there was something wrong. You see, I go for a run each morning, so I thought I might as well do it over here. Then we can make the best of the day.”

I might have smiled at his excuse, if I had not felt so cross with my mother. Danny didn’t “do” running at all and the only jogging he took part in was the horizontal variety at which he excelled.

“Son,” said my father, wearily. “When you are about to fall into a hole, stop digging. Sit down.”

Danny obeyed him but I made the point of giving him the first cup of coffee, wondering how he rated being addressed in this no nonsense Yorkshire way. I plonked the mug down in front of him so hard that it almost spilled over. He caught my eye and smiled.

“Any idea what time you want me to pick you up, Sandra,” asked Dad, “or would you rather give me a ring when you’re ready? Your mum and I have got some ideas that we want to discuss with you two. Do you want to do it now or when you get back?”

“No time like the present,” said Danny. “But I was wondering, do you have any plans for today? I’ve got a friend at the Royal Horse Artillery barracks just up the road. He said, if you wanted a guided tour, see the horses and stuff, he could lay it on.”

A smile erupted across my father’s face. “Well, I’d love to.”

When Mum and I got home again at around four-thirty, Danny and my father were watching football on TV.

“Hello, you two,” said Dad. “Alright? Left anything in the shops for the other folks? I don’t know about you, but I’ve had a cracking day. You should see the stuff they’ve got at that artillery depot, the ceremonial gear, and the gun carriages. It’s where they come from to do the twenty-one gun salutes in Hyde Park. And did you know that at Christmas they water the horses in the fountains at Trafalgar Square? Magic!”

“Alright Alan, let’s get our coats off first. Then you can tell us all about it.”

I made a pot of tea for us. Mum was tired and sank onto the sofa next to Dad, while Danny and I were relegated to the only other chair and the floor. I had draped a large throw over the sofa, which made it look better even if underneath it was still old and worn. Mum never looked very happy in our apartment and I was sure she didn’t think it was clean enough no matter how hard I tried.