Northern Girl (20 page)

He sat upstairs in the double-decker and stared out at the countryside, lost in thought, until a sudden light tap on his shoulder made him look up sharply. He was so shocked you could have knocked him down with a feather.

‘
Dominic!
’ he exclaimed, jumping up from his seat. ‘Bloody hell! Fancy you being on the same bus as me! Sit yourself down, man!’ He laughed at how unreal it was: Dominic sitting right next to him on the number eleven! He’d been so certain Dominic was a world away, securely in the past – and yet here he was! ‘Eee, man, I can’t believe it’s you!’ Tom, in his excitement, spoke fast, with a strong local accent, forgetting how clearly he used to have to enunciate so Dominic could understand him.

But Dominic, seemingly unfazed, laughed for the first time since he’d left France, and said, ‘I was sitting at the back of the bus, and I recognize the shape of your head! It was a shock for me, also.’

Tom ran his hand over the back of his head,
exclaiming, ‘Well, I never! I’ve been called a big head before, but I hadn’t realized that it was an unusual shape an’ all, like!’ Tom smiled, then, taking in Dominic’s tired face, he said more seriously, ‘Ay, you look done in, man! You must have had one hell of a journey!’

Dominic’s puzzled look made Tom realize he hadn’t made himself clear enough.

‘Sorry. I mean, you look tired.’

‘Ah!’ Dominic expressed his understanding. ‘I am not too tired, because I sleep yesterday in a … Oh, how do you call it?

‘A bed and breakfast?’ Tom smiled.

‘Yes,’ said Dominic. ‘It was very close to Darlington station, so I was here quickly, and now that I am here I am more worried than tired.’

‘You and me both,’ Tom replied.

‘You received the letter from Maman, then?’ Dominic asked the obvious.

‘Aye, we received the letter all right,’ Tom said before adding, ‘I’m so sorry, Dominic.’ He looked directly at Dominic, asking tentatively, ‘How is she?’

‘She is not good, Tom,’ said Dominic.

Tom ventured very cautiously now, ‘There’s no doubt, I suppose … I mean, about me being the father, like?’

Dominic couldn’t have looked more shocked if someone had held a gun to his head. His expression changed, and his right hand curled into a fist.

Tom immediately realized his mistake and said quickly, ‘Aw, I’m sorry, man! I should never have
said that, but, you see, I only went with her the once!’

Dominic said stiffly, ‘I understand that you are in shock, Tom, and it saddens me that you would even think that of Madeleine. There is no doubt that you are the father.’

‘In my heart I knew that,’ Tom responded. ‘God knows what made me say such a thing—’

He started to apologize again but Dominic interrupted. ‘Shh,
mon ami
, let us forget “sorry” now, and concentrate on today, and your family, who I still have to meet.’

‘Aw, man! You’ve no need to worry about them. They’ll love you, all right!’ Tom said confidently.

‘But what do they say to this news?’ Dominic questioned, not at all reassured.

‘They’re shocked.’

Dominic said nothing, just looked out of the window, not really seeing the village they were passing through.

‘West Auckland,’ Tom informed him half-heartedly. ‘It’s where I went to school after I was eleven. Only another couple of miles and we’ll be home.’

They both sat quietly looking at the passing countryside, lost in their own thoughts.

Dominic couldn’t think beyond the impending meeting with the family, and Tom was back on that lovely warm day early last September. In his mind’s eye he was following Maddie along the footpath in Marck. He was admiring her swaying hips, as he’d done so many times before. She stopped to pet a passing dog, and he crept up behind her and put his hand over her eyes. She
squealed, but he knew she’d guessed who it was. He smiled now, remembering how she giggled at first, before, in mock-anger, pushing him, ‘Oh, you … you Tom, I have fright. I thought you are at the camp today?’ she said, but she was obviously pleased he was there.

‘I’m here because I have something to tell you,’ he answered hesitantly.

Seeing the seriousness in his face she stopped walking. ‘What, Tom? You are going away?’ Her eyes were full of fear, guessing the answer.

‘You read me too well, Maddie,’ Tom answered sadly.

‘I expect it,’ she said bravely, carrying on walking, but not raising her eyes from the pavement.

Tom pulled her round to face him, and tenderly lifted her chin. ‘Look, Maddie, we can write to each other,’ he said encouragingly, trying to hide his own unhappiness.

‘Oh, Tom!’

Tom remembered being touched at the way despair made her French accent stronger.

‘When?’ she asked, not really wanting an answer.

‘We demob the day after tomorrow. But we won’t be allowed off camp after today.’

‘Oh,
mon Dieu
! So soon!’ she exclaimed.

‘Yes,
mon cheri
.’ Tom used the expression he’d heard so often from her own lips. He took her hand and cajoled, ‘Come on, Maddie, this is our last day together. Let’s make it a good one!’

When she looked up at him with tears in those big brown eyes he thought his heart would break there and then.

‘OK,’ she said, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. ‘Come with me to give this dress.’ She held out the parcel she was carrying. ‘I have sew it for Madame Declemy. Then maybe we walk … no? It is a beautiful day.’

‘Let’s do that!’ he answered enthusiastically, before taking both of her hands in his. He leaned forward, and, without another word, they’d kissed gently, before moving on together hand in hand, making brave attempts at their usual light-heartedness; both equally miserable about the imminent parting.

Madame Declemy saw them approach – she was working in her garden. Tom and Maddie smiled at the sight of her head bobbing up and down in the middle of her raspberry cage.

‘
Bonjour
, madame!’ Maddie called, trying to stifle her amusement as she opened the wooden gate into the garden.

‘Ah!
Bonjour
, Madeleine,
et bonjour
, monsieur,’ Madame Declemy answered, looking at Tom appreciatively.

‘Madame Declemy, this is Tom, my friend, and he is going back to England very soon,’ Madeleine said, in rapid French.

‘Oh, well, you won’t be wanting to hang around here for too long, then, Madeleine,’ Madame Declemy replied, equally rapidly. She winked. ‘I will get your money, and thank you for doing the work for me so quickly.’ She took the parcel before disappearing off into the comparative darkness of her house.

While they waited in the bright sunshine, on impulse, Tom bent forward and kissed Maddie full on the lips, as he’d done so many times before. Except this time, it was different. The kiss was deeply passionate, and he knew that Maddie felt it. They pulled away slightly, still wrapped in each other’s arms. Their eyes locked, and both of them knew what was going to happen next.

As the bus jogged along, Tom allowed himself a wry smile, remembering how they had sprung apart like two naughty children when Madame Declemy came out with the money. And how, aware of their embarrassment, she had immediately said, ‘Now run along,
mes enfants
, and make the most of the time you have left together.’

She’d turned to look at Tom, who’d smiled in response to her cheeky wink, even though he hadn’t been sure what she’d said. But he’d seen that she approved of him, and was maybe even a little envious of their love for each other. I’ll bet
she
was a right lass! he’d mused at the time.

‘Come on,’ Maddie’d nudged him, ‘Let’s walk! We walk to Tante Lucy’s farm, and she gives us a ride. Horace pulls us in the cart. It will be funny, and I think we need … to be happy?’ She looked up into his face her eyes aching with sadness.

Tom enfolded her in his arms, and their kiss was even deeper.

‘That sounds like a good idea,’ he said, reluctant to release her, and fighting the urge to have her there and then. ‘I would like to see your family before I leave,
anyway,’ he said gently, though he wanted to yell, ‘God, Maddie! I don’t care where we go, as long as we can be alone together!’

Maddie led the way over a stile and into a field, explaining, as she hit at the long grass in front of her with a stick, how it was a short cut to Tante Lucy’s. They worked their way along the path, which they could just about see. It meandered round the ragged remains of previous crops, and was so narrow that, in parts, they had to walk in single file. Tom, who was walking behind, became increasingly dizzy with desire. And as he watched Madeleine beat back the grass, he was unable to think of anything but her bare, suntanned arms and legs, her lithe body in the thin summer dress, or the way her hair curled damply in the heat. Sensing a change in his mood, she stopped and turned to him, asking, ‘Tom, you are OK?’

He didn’t answer, but took her in his arms again, and her heart pounded so heavily against his chest that it felt like his own. He had to clear his throat to answer, ‘Yes, I’m fine, but …’

Before he could say any more she had pulled his head down to her mouth and kissed him full and hard. They kissed, and kissed again, until they could breathe no longer. He moved away to kiss her forehead, her nose, her chin – and the only word he was capable of uttering at that moment was her name, over and over again. It was when she responded by repeating
his
name that he lost the little control he had left. And when he fumbled with the tiny buttons at the front of her dress, she
brushed his hand away and did it for him, allowing him to slide one side of the dress from her shoulder. He felt her shiver as, with the palm of his hand, he caressed her skin. Then, hearing her moan as his fingers ran the length of her spine, he kissed her again, full on the mouth.

When he thought about the way he’d felt at that moment, he realized it had been strangely like the violent fever he’d had after contracting malaria in the Middle East. Then Madeleine sank down into the long grass, and he fell on top of her. He remembered how firm her body felt, and how lush the green grass was beneath her. Her chestnut hair tumbled in a mass of waves around her face, and the bright autumn sunlight threading through it momentarily made him think of a painting he’d seen in church as a child. How mesmerized he’d been by that painting, in which the girl’s hair had spread out behind her, so full of light that she’d appeared to be flying! In a dreamlike state he took up a handful of Madeleine’s hair, and it felt like silk as he held it against his cheek.

When Maddie turned her head slightly to face him her expression changed: she no longer looked like a young girl, but like a woman. A woman who knew what she wanted. And when she lifted her hands to cup his face her touch made him tremble.

‘I love you, Tom,’ she said softly.

It was then that he’d lifted himself on his arms, releasing the pressure of his body on hers, and looked into her pleading brown eyes. He hadn’t the courage to
tell her that he loved her. How could he, when he knew that he had to leave? Instead, his voice hoarse with desire, he said, ‘Maddie. Are you sure you are ready for this?’

‘Shh, Tom. Yes, I am sure,’ she answered with undisguised urgency.

Tom hesitated, but Maddie seemed to have lost all trace of her usual modesty, and begged him, ‘Please, Tom!’ And by that time, with her there in front of him, writhing in the grass, wild horses couldn’t have stopped him.

He couldn’t say how long they lay there afterwards, naked, abandoned – and totally content. All he remembered was a strange feeling of completeness. It was then that he realized that this hadn’t been just sex; for the first time in his life he had made love. This knowledge was almost frightening, and for a split second his sense of self-preservation made him want to run from it – but his heart wouldn’t allow that; and as he held Madeleine close in his arms his mind had been in turmoil.

Even though there had been many other, earlier opportunities to make love, they hadn’t taken them. They’d managed to curb their desire, as much out of respect for Maddie’s parents as anything else. But this time had been different. Tom wasn’t sure whether it was because he was about to leave, or whether it was simply that they had resisted for so long that they couldn’t fight it any more. When the euphoria of the moment subsided a little, he lay there with an overwhelming
feeling that he’d betrayed someone, but he wasn’t sure who.

Thinking about it now, he realized that it was her family’s trust that he had betrayed: they had treated him as one of their own. He hadn’t dared ask Maddie how she was feeling, because he’d been afraid of the answer. Although, when he’d helped her do up all the tiny buttons on her dress, which a little earlier she’d so urgently opened for him, she’d sensed his concern and assured him, ‘Is OK, Tom. I am OK.’ And before Tom could answer, she’d gripped his hand tightly, and looking straight into his eyes, reiterated, ‘I am!’

But this time when she’d smiled, Tom had been aghast to feel a tear sting his eye, and silently said to himself: For God’s sake not
now
, don’t bloody cry
now
! He’d quickly got to his feet and held out his hands towards her, pulling her up from the ground and into his arms, where she’d stood on her toes and kissed him gently on the lips.

They hadn’t spoken again, and they’d walked off, not in the direction of Tante Lucy’s farm, but towards Maddie’s home …

‘EVENWOOD! BANK TOP!’ The bus jerked to a halt, and the shrill yell of the conductress penetrated Tom’s thoughts so sharply that he jumped, almost knocking Dominic off his seat. He glanced at Dominic, who looked scared, as if he’d been shaken awake. ‘Ay, come on, man, we’re here,’ Tom said, grabbing Dominic’s arm while Dominic quickly picked up his valise. As they ran
towards the stairs at the back of the bus Tom said, ‘Eee, I’m sorry, mate! I wasn’t concentrating. Got lost in me thoughts, like.’

‘Me too,’ Dominic said, looking more than slightly flustered.

With a grin, Tom slapped him on the back. They clattered down the stairs, and as soon as they’d jumped off, the bell dinged and the bus disappeared off into the distance. Tom and Dominic glanced at each other in mutual understanding of what lay ahead, before setting off on the short walk to Glamis Terrace.