suit and a lump swelling on his mouth.
Mrs Dixon must have been watching us, for she screamed like a banshee as she came pelting along the path waving her arms, her hair coming out of its roll, her apron flapping around her bony knees. Again I was reminded of the harpies from mythology, half cruel bird, half skeletal woman. She fell on the ground beside her son and keened over him until he sat up and begged her to be quiet. She got to her feet and her voice was venomous.
‘There’s something strange about you lot up at that farm and when I find out what it is you’ll pay dearly for what you’ve done today.’
Suddenly, I was afraid for Michael. I clutched his arm and, as we began to make our way back home, I prayed for the first time since the bombs had come and asked God humbly if he would take care of my dear, sweet Michael who had once again come to my rescue.
Twenty-Five
Hari was engrossed in her work. The Colonel was off sick, his old war wounds playing him up, and Hari took on his work as well as her own. She was tuned now to both his codes and the noises on the radio; the crackling, almost intelligible sounds making sense to her. She could cope on her own but she was concerned about the old man and decided she would go to see him after work.
She listened, the tip of her tongue touching one soft lip. She wore bright lipstick, the strong creamy red cheering her up and making her feel more confident. She was more alive these days but she was reluctant to own it was her feelings for Michael that had changed her; not her new lipstick nor even her new job, but knowing Michael loved her.
She loved him in return, but what future was there in a romance born under bomber-filled skies with destruction all around. And then there was Meryl, those baleful eyes, those knowing eyes looking accusingly at her.
Meryl was now full-grown. Her once bony body had evolved into the magic time when the skin of childhood fell away and the glow of womanhood broke through like the bud bursting into colourful life from the green, spiky thorns of the rose tree.
She was young enough still to betray her feelings in every soft look, every admiring glance that she gave Michael. And yet it was more than hero worship, there were deep feelings in Meryl and that made it all the more difficult for Hari.
She couldn’t fool herself that Meryl’s love for Michael was a passing fancy; she knew that when Meryl gave her love it was for life.
A buzz of urgency came through the phone lines and Hari gave her work all her attention. She quickly deciphered the message and her heart chilled: tonight there would be a heavy bombing raid on Swansea.
A little while later, she spent time with the colonel in his big, elegant house. He handed her a sherry and nodded sagely when she told him of the latest news.
‘It had to be any time now, a big push forward; the Huns think they’ve caught us unprepared but thanks to our intelligence we are forewarned.’
He waved her away and picked up the telephone, and Hari, knowing he had urgent work, let herself out of his house and stood in the quiet garden for a moment wondering at the peace of the day, knowing it would be shattered once darkness fell and the bombers came.
On the way home, Hari stopped at Kate’s house.
‘Well, Hari, I’d know that scent anywhere. Come on, give old Kate a kiss, it’s about time you came to see me again, my darlin’.
As Hari hugged her friend she could hear the snuffles of the young child sleeping in the wicker washing basket curled up like a cat.
There was the clink of china from the kitchen and Hari knew Hilda was putting the kettle on the gas stove. ‘Hilda’s always in the kitchen making tea,’ she said, smiling. ‘A cup of tea, lovely, just what I need!’ she called to Hilda.
Hari turned back to Kate and her smile widened. ‘You’re looking extremely well, Kate, especially with one of your baby’s feeding bottles hanging shamelessly out of your blouse for all to see.’
Kate stuffed her breast carelessly away and fumbled with the buttons. ‘It’s not funny, Hari as you’ll find out one of these days. That brute of a boy pulls and sucks me with such an appetite I think he’ll drink me dry one day.’
She tidied her collar. ‘I’ve had a letter. Stephen’s working in Cardiff for a while in some air force place but he’ll be home at the weekend. I don’t know how Hilda will take to him being around the baby.’ Her voice trailed away as the door was pushed open and Hilda came into the room with a tray.
‘Evening, Hari,’ she said gently. ‘Any news?’
Hari struggled with her conscience for a moment. ‘Probably be a raid tonight, a heavy one, get to the shelter early.’ She said it quickly as if that would make it less of a leak of privileged information. ‘How’s your arthritis, Hilda?’
‘Still there.’ Hilda shrugged. ‘What can’t be altered got to be borne. I hear your dad’s gone back to work then, desk job is it?’
Hari sighed and nodded. ‘He misses the active service. Still Father’s glad to have any job. Staying in the house all day was driving him mad. To tell the truth it’s a relief for me too, I was so sorry for him, lost like he was, alone all the time feeling useless. When the letter came offering him the position in the London office he shed ten years.’
Hari glanced at the clock with a lifting of her heart—soon now, soon she would see him. Michael.
Kate felt her mood and turned sightless eyes towards Hari. They were still as blue as ever, with no sign they could see nothing but darkness.
‘Got a date?’ Kate said with uncanny perception.
‘Mind your own business, nosy parker,’ Hari said with a tone of mock indignation.
‘It’s love this time isn’t it, Hari?’
‘Afraid so.’
‘God! You’re as bad as Meryl!’
‘What do you mean?’ For a minute Hari thought Kate had guessed it all, the whole tangled mess about Michael, a triangle from a love story but with a huge difference, her rival was a vital, intelligent, impressionable young girl. Her sister.
‘You don’t give much away, that’s what I mean. What else should I mean? Is there a secret then?’
‘No secret.’ Hari laughed uncomfortably. ‘It’s just the war. Should I tell him there will be an enemy attack tonight? Oh, all sorts of things. It’s not the ideal time to fall in love is it, Kate?’
‘You’re lucky if love comes your way at all, any time,’ Kate said. ‘Make the most of the feeling, Hari, it will never be repeated.’ Her voice was wistful; even though she had Stephen now, she clearly still pined for her Eddie.
‘Drink your tea, girls.’ Hilda’s voice was gruff with emotion. She missed Eddie too, her only son,
Hari glanced at her watch and pushed back her chair. ‘I’ll be off then—don’t forget, go to the shelter early, mind.’
Kate hugged her. ‘We’ll be all right. Don’t you stay out too late, it’s you taking the risks so it is.’
Hari wondered if her words had a double meaning but Kate’s face was devoid of any guile. ‘Come and see me again soon.’ Kate kissed her nose, missing her cheek by a mile. She smiled. ‘You smell good. Your chap is a lucky man and if I’m any judge you’re looking more beautiful than ever what with being in love an’ all.’
‘Go on with you.’ Hari mimicked her friend’s Irish accent and was rewarded with a flip of Kate’s hand that just managed to brush her shoulder. The baby started to wail and Kate disappeared at once. ‘Men,’ Hari murmured, ‘they’ve got you on a string from the moment they’re born.’
Michael was waiting for her near the beach. The sand was blown like sparkles of diamonds in the wind. He looked taller, bigger in his coat and muffler. He smiled as she drew nearer and, with a tug at her heart, she saw his
