Read One Step at a Time Online
Authors: Beryl Matthews
One Step at a Time (49 page)
‘Why don’t you try it?’
‘Amy would be horrified, and I’d get a terrible telling-off from Grace.’
There was silence as each man pictured the scene, then they both roared with laughter.
‘Yeah.’ Howard pulled himself together. ‘She does speak her mind, doesn’t she?’
Ben nodded, feeling the tension ease at last. ‘God, Howard, I’m damned confused.’
‘Well, there’s only one way to sort this out, and that’s to tell Amy how you feel.’
‘Oh, I don’t think—’
‘Ben, those years in that camp have addled your brain. Amy loves you; she always has. She isn’t going to throw up her hands in horror if you tell her you love her in a different way now she’s a woman.’
‘But she loved John so much.’ Ben ran a hand through his hair, confusion etched on his features.
‘John’s gone,’ Howard said quietly. ‘He was killed a long time ago. It tore Amy apart, but having Grace helped, and she’s had the courage to move on. I think she’s ready to fall in love again, and, in my opinion, you’re the prime candidate. Get your feelings out in the open. She’s a wonderful woman, and I believe you would be happy together.’
‘I hope you’re right.’ Ben stared at the painting, feeling his heart rate accelerate. He needed these two more than he could ever remember wanting anything in his life. Even the yearning for freedom couldn’t compare with this. If she couldn’t think of
him as a husband, then he’d damned well have to convince her!
It was late afternoon when Ben reached East Meon. After his talk with Howard, he’d left immediately for the station, cursing the lack of petrol. He could have made it in half the time by car.
Grace spotted him first, hurtling down the path, arms out wide. After only two days in the country, she was back to full health.
‘Uncle Ben!’
He swept her up, spinning round and round with her, making her giggle. ‘Hello, sweetheart, you look better.’
‘My spots are all gone.’
‘Ben!’ Mildred and Charles greeted him. ‘What a lovely surprise. Come in.’
‘Thank you. I hope you don’t mind me calling uninvited?’
‘Not at all.’ Charles smiled. ‘You’re always welcome here. Are you staying the night with us?’
‘I don’t want to put you to any trouble. I thought I might be able to stay in the village somewhere.’
‘We won’t hear of it, Ben,’ Mildred Sterling said. ‘There’s plenty of room for you here.’
‘Thank you.’
Amy came in from the kitchen, and couldn’t hide her surprise at seeing him, but she didn’t seem upset, he noted with relief. Still holding Grace, he bent and kissed her cheek. ‘You’re looking well; the rest is doing you good.’
‘Hello, Ben, what brings you down here? Is everyone all right back home?’
‘They’re fine. I’ve come to see you.’ He put Grace down and draped his arm around Amy’s shoulder. ‘We need to talk.’
But there was no chance at that moment, because tea was ready, and Grace had to tell him about all the lovely things they had been doing, like walking in the woods and visiting a farm and seeing all the animals.
‘I sat on a horse!’ Her eyes were wide when she told him this piece of stupendous news. ‘He was ever so big, and Grandpa had to hold me in case I fell off.’ Grace couldn’t sit still. ‘It walked along, didn’t it, Grandpa?’
‘It certainly did. You haven’t shown your mummy the drawing you did this afternoon, have you?’
Grace shook her head. ‘I copied out of one of my books.’
‘Go and get it, my sweetie.’ Mildred watched her granddaughter with love. ‘I’m sure Uncle Ben would like to see it as well.’
Sliding off her chair, Grace ran into the front room, returning almost at once, proudly holding out a sheet of paper.
When Amy saw it, the breath caught in her throat. There was certainly a horse there, but also other things.
‘You’ve helped her with this?’ Amy asked her mother-in-law.
‘No, she copied all of it from the books she brought down with her. She’s a very bright child, and
picks up things quickly. John was just the same. You’ve done the right thing by giving her lots of books at an early age.’
‘Ben.’ Amy thrust the paper at him, too agitated to be able to read it herself. She’d seen Grace drawing letters of the alphabet, but never complete words. ‘Is it right?’
Ben held Amy’s hand tightly, feeling it tremble. ‘The letters are all correct, even the D and B you have trouble with are round the right way.’
‘How long have you been doing words, darling?’
‘I do them in my colouring book.’
‘Yes, I know, but the letters are already drawn, you only have to fill them in with coloured pencil.’ Amy didn’t know whether to laugh or cry; so she gripped Ben’s hand as hard as she could.
‘Well, I’ve done them all, so I’ve drawn my own. What’s the matter, Mummy? Don’t you like it?’
Letting go of Ben, she hugged Grace. ‘It’s absolutely beautiful, darling. Now you can help me with my writing.’
‘Shall I show you how I can do it?’
‘Please, darling.’ Amy fought for control as she watched her daughter write A, B, C, copying from her book of letters. It had been Amy’s greatest fear that Grace might have inherited whatever was wrong with her, so she had given her these simple books from the moment she could toddle. She hadn’t intended to start her on reading until she was four in September, but Grace had beaten her to it.
‘She’s going to be all right, Amy,’ Ben murmured in her ear.
Leaning against him, she bit her lip in relief. ‘I couldn’t do anything like that when I was her age, and when I couldn’t keep up with the others in school, they said I was stupid and lazy.’
Ben squeezed her shoulder. ‘We know you’re not stupid or lazy.’
She smiled. ‘When we get back home perhaps we can ask Ted to help her with reading and writing, then when she starts school, she’ll have a head start.’
‘He’ll love that.’
‘Is my drawing of the horse all right, Uncle Ben?’
‘It’s perfect. He must have been a very handsome horse.’
Grace nodded and ran to her grandmother. ‘Can I put it by my bed, Granny?’
‘Of course you can. We’ll go and do it now, and then you can get ready for bed.’
Grace went with her quite happily, chattering about the picture Uncle Ben had done of her and put beside her bed at home.
Ben stood up, pulling Amy with him. ‘Do you mind if I take Amy for a walk?’ he asked Charles.
‘Not at all; off you go, and we’ll put Grace to bed. Have a drink at the pub.’
They walked along in silence. Ben pulled Amy’s hand through his arm and held it there. The relief at seeing that Grace might not have trouble with words was immense, and she was content to walk without
talking. But: ‘Er… We’ve passed the pub. Don’t you want a drink?’ Amy was still puzzled why Ben had turned up like this, but she was glad he was here. This was more like the man she loved and had always leant on for help and support.
‘No, I just want to talk.’
Her smile was amused. ‘You’re not doing much of that.’
They turned down a quiet lane, stopping by a large oak tree. Ben leant against it, holding both of Amy’s hands. He took a deep breath. ‘After so long stuck in a POW camp, I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to paint again.’
‘You wouldn’t have lost your talent, no matter how long you’d been away. It’s a part of you, Ben.’
‘I thought I had.’ He smiled down at her. ‘You made me see it was still there, only the technique had changed. I had changed.’
He fell silent again, and she said nothing, allowing him time to gather his thoughts.
After a while he continued. ‘But the greatest shock was seeing the difference in you. That first time I met you by the river, I knew you were special, and that has proved to be very true. But I was not prepared for the way I felt when I saw you as a woman with a young child.’
Her heart was hammering in her chest, robbing her of breath. She wondered what was coming next. ‘And how did you feel?’
‘I fell in love with you.’ He leant his head back and
closed his eyes. ‘It’s been driving me crazy, until I was afraid to be near you. I’m sorry, Amy, but that’s how it is, and I can’t change it. I thought you ought to know. You loved John, and we’ve always been friends—’
‘Will you stop talking for a minute?’ She punched him in the chest, making his eyes snap open. ‘You’re confusing me. What are you trying to say?’
‘I’m saying that I want more than friendship from you.’
She wanted to laugh, cry, throw her arms around him in joy, but she resisted the urge – for the moment. ‘And this is what’s been making you grumpy?’
Pushing himself away from the tree, he shoved his hands in his pockets, frowning down at her. ‘I was mad at myself for not being able to control my feelings. And mad at you for changing into such a desirable woman when I knew the whole thing was impossible.’
As he began to walk away, she grabbed his arm, holding on tightly. ‘Just a minute! You’re not going to tell me you love me and then walk away, surely? I loved John with all my heart—’
‘Exactly!’
‘Shut up, Ben, and let me have my say. When I lost John I thought my world had come to an end, but then Grace came along and, step by step, I recovered. I’ll always love him, and I still have a part of him in Grace. But he’s been gone for years, and I’ve moved on. When we met, I adored you with a young
girl’s gratitude, but you’re right, things have changed.’ She paused for a heartbeat. ‘Now I love you like a woman should.’
He didn’t look as if he could believe what he was hearing. ‘Are you saying…?’
Her smile spread. ‘I love you, so will you take your damned hands out of your pockets and kiss me?’
She was lifted off her feet and kissed until they were both breathless and her head spinning. His hands tangled in her hair; the teasing smile she knew so well was back again.
‘We could make it a double wedding with Howard and Chrissie in August.’
‘Are you asking me to marry you?’
‘Of course I am.’
‘Then I accept. Oh, I’m so happy. I thought you would only ever see me as a sister, and it was going to be difficult not to let my true feelings show.’ She hugged him as tight as she could, and then looked up, a teasing smile on her face. ‘You know you won’t only be getting a wife, you’ll be getting a daughter as well. Are you sure you’re ready for that?’
‘Positive.’ He kissed her again, gently this time. ‘What do you think she’s going to say about me becoming her father?’
‘Hmm.’ Amy tipped her head on one side, as if giving it careful thought. ‘As long as you treat her mother right, she’ll probably accept you.’
When he laughed this time, Amy knew he was really back to his old self again.
‘Come on.’ He slipped his arm around her, holding her close. ‘Let’s go and say goodnight to our lovely little girl.’
Happy, they stepped into the future together.
Epilogue
Chelsea, London, December 1989
All the family had gathered for Amy’s seventieth birthday. She laughed down at her great-grandson as he wriggled in her arms, knowing that if he had trouble reading and writing, there would be help for him. It had, at last, been discovered that the condition she suffered from was called dyslexia, and had nothing to do with a person’s intelligence. She remembered the immense relief she had felt when her daughter began to read at an early age without difficulty.
Her thoughts went back over the years. In 1950 Mrs Dalton had died suddenly of a stroke, which had shocked them all. Her will provided another shock: she had left the house to Amy, Ben and Howard, on the condition that Ted be allowed to stay for as long as he wanted. Sadly, he died only a few years after Mrs Dalton. They had both been greatly missed.
Howard had married his Chrissie and now they had grandchildren of their own. She had married Ben on the same day, and their marriage had been, and still was, a very happy one. She looked across at her husband, smiling as he gave his usual teasing wink.
Gazing round the crowded room, she considered that her life had really begun when Ben and Howard had brought her to this lovely house. Mrs Dalton had always urged her to take one step at a time, and she could see that her life had been a series of steps.
The first was Wapping, with all its frustration and grief.
Next, here, where she had blossomed in the atmosphere of love and gentle teasing, finding new talents and new ways of expressing herself.
Then, marrying John. The hurt was still there when she thought of how little time they’d had together, and sadness that a young life had been cut so short. The war had been another step along the road. It had been a rocky path, with many highs and lows: grief at losing John; joy when Grace had been born; and relief when Ben had finally returned home at the end of the war.
They had taken another step together and started up the shop again. Then she had married Ben and they had had two fine sons of their own. James was an artist like his father, and Luke a teacher. James had shown signs of having trouble with words, but it had only been slight, and they’d been able to help him from an early age.
They now had three shops being run by the children of both families. Ben and Howard had eventually received the acclaim their talents deserved.
And here she was at seventy…
‘Cut your cake, Mum.’
She stopped reminiscing and smiled, seeing John in her daughter’s face. Grace had been deprived of a father, but Ben had more than filled that void.
Standing up, Amy stepped towards the table.
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