Always In My Heart

Five

1944

Puffs of white cloud danced over humps of hills the next morning as Brenda stared bleakly out of the window, having suffered another fairly sleepless night. Could all these traumas be the reason her confidence was leaking rapidly away? She felt filled with anguish, as if she was falling into that dark pit yet again, quite unable to block out the pain. Yet she’d learned over the years to fight these feelings of extreme anxiety by rebuilding her strength, something she really must work upon.

Mrs Harding, even plumper than she’d been when Brenda had first come to work with her, was still a jolly and cheerful woman and most welcoming as Brenda settled herself at the table in the kitchen for breakfast. For a moment it felt almost as if she’d never been away. Brenda remembered how she used to scrub this big pine table and the slate floors, black-lead the stove and spend hours peeling and chopping vegetables, washing and ironing. Long hard days full of endless tasks.

The housekeeper gently patted her hand. ‘Tha looks like tha’s been through hell, chuck.’

‘You could say that.’

‘As have many others in this dratted war, but you’re safe home now.’

‘It will surely end soon. Even France is on the road to freedom.’

‘Aye, as we all will be before too long. And don’t fret about Master Hugh being a bit sniffy. It’s no fault of yours. As well as losing his parents, his fiancée was recently killed in an air raid. He attended her funeral in London only a week or two ago.’

‘Oh, that’s dreadful! He never said a word about that.’ Was this the reason for his foul temper? ‘I was so upset to hear that Lady Stuart had died. She was such a lovely lady, and so kind to me. Do you know where she was living at the time, or where her cousin Adèle Rouanet, with whom she was sharing a home, lives?’

With a puzzled frown Mrs Harding shook her head. ‘I only know what Miss Melissa told us, that her beloved Mama died of cancer. Nowt more was said on the subject. We all knew she’d left her husband, but ‘twas none of our business why or where she’d gone.’

Brenda let out a heavy sigh, finding herself sinking into silent depression once more.

‘So how are you, chuck?’ the housekeeper asked, propping her legs up on a stool to give them a rest, since she was generally on her feet all day long.

‘I’m in a bit of a quandary right now, Mrs Harding. The fact is…’ Brenda paused, finding herself unable to speak of the anguish she was suffering at having lost her son. She’d lived in hope that those two dear ladies who had cared for them both so well, would have returned to England at some point, bringing Tommy with them. No doubt because of Camille’s tragic death, that hadn’t happened. At worst she’d expected a member of the family to at least have Adèle’s address, but Hugh claimed he didn’t even know her. ‘I’m fine,’ she said at last, giving a brave smile.

In truth, Brenda felt as if her entire life lay in ruins, and could not decide how best to deal with this dilemma. The memory of dear Tommy brought to mind that his birthday would be coming up soon when he would turn four, and she hadn’t seen him since he was but a few weeks old. She had nothing left: no husband, no son, not even a job or any income, although she fully intended to find one. She could well need money to help search for him. Once this war was finally over, and she’d retrieved him from wherever Adèle was keeping him safe, Brenda fully intended to build a new life for them both.

Putting on a brave face as she nibbled her toast, Brenda praised Mrs Harding for her delicious home-made jam. ‘I used to make this for Camille, exactly as you taught me,’ she told her. She’d learned a great deal working with the housekeeper all those years ago, and had enjoyed every moment of it, despite the hard work.

‘Thee allus were a good little worker, chuck.’

‘Hugh agreed to let me stay for only one night, so I’ll be leaving later today. But that’s fine by me. I need to find a job, and the best place to do that is in my home town of Castlefield, so the sooner I go the better.’

Mrs Harding scowled. ‘Nay, tha doesn’t have to go yet, lass. I know he created a bit of a rumpus for thee, but Carter says Master Hugh has changed his mind and agreed you can stay for a few days until you get theeself sorted. No doubt he realises you’re in sore need of a rest, or else feels a bit guilty over the way he spoke to thee. Mind, he expects you to help wi’ the chores,’ she said, giving a droll little smile.

‘Oh, I’ve no problem with that. That would be wonderful. I’m so grateful.’ Perhaps he was not quite so unfeeling as he’d sounded?

‘It’s not been an easy time for any of the family, particularly Master Hugh, despite him being in a reserved occupation as a farmer and businessman. I suspect bankruptcy is also threatening. Finding the necessary ingredients to bake enough biscuits and make a decent profit has not been easy. The company used to produce such a good selection of biscuits, including bourbons, rich tea, homewheat, chocolate, fruit shortcake, ginger nuts and many more. Not possible now, with shortages being what they are.

‘Nor did Sir Randolph approve of his son being involved in the everyday work of the factory, instructing him to concentrate upon running the estate. Such a decision did not help Master Hugh to acquire much knowledge on how to run the factory. But then, he and his pernickety father never did get on too well. Now Sir Randolph has departed this life, bless his soul, leaving his son in charge. We can but hope things will improve.’

‘I’m sure they will once this war is over,’ Brenda agreed, fascinated by Hugh’s story.

‘Don’t rush into making any decisions until tha feels more yerself, chuck. And let me know if tha feels the need to talk. I can tell there’s summat on yer mind.’

‘Thank you, Mrs Harding. I do appreciate your help. Does Prue still live here?’ Brenda asked, as she helped the housekeeper to clear away the dishes, exactly as she’d done in the days when she was employed as a scullery maid.

‘Oh, aye! Miss Prudence has her problems too, having also been widowed by this dratted war, which she’ll no doubt tell you all about. You’ll find her in the dairy, or the vegetable garden, as usual. The good lady manages to keep us well fed.’

Brenda got on with the washing up, feeling very much like a servant again, but at least talking to Mrs Harding had helped to restore her courage and confidence. Once all chores were completed, she’d fully expected to be called to the study for yet another lecture. But receiving no such order, she collected Kit the collie and went off in search of her friend.

*

Hugh was standing by his Bentley when he saw the girl come round the side of the house from the kitchen, the dog bouncing beside her. He remembered all too well the family rows that had taken place when she and Jack had got together. Their father had been appalled by the idea of Jack pairing up with a servant girl. Hugh felt a certain sympathy with that, as Sir Randolph clearly wanted the best for his eldest son. Yet as he watched her spin round to toss the stick for Kit, her face aglow with laughter, brown hair flying in the breeze, he again felt something stir within him. Was it another nudge of guilt because he hadn’t defended his brother’s decision, or something more?

Noticing him standing watching her, she stopped dead. ‘Oh, sorry, didn’t see you there. Were you wishing to speak to me again?’

‘No, I have work to do. We can speak later.’

Walking over to him, she nodded. ‘It can’t be easy being left to run everything alone. I can remember how Jack used to say how much he missed the business. He said he really enjoyed working at the factory and told me so much about it. May I come and visit it some time?’ she asked with a smile, her round cheeks flushed a pretty pink, her velvet-brown eyes lit by the sun, warm with kindness.

His throat tightened and his senses skittered. She was quite attractive and clearly resilient and strong willed, but he must not allow himself to be seduced by her charm. What did the family business have to do with her? No doubt because she wished to get her greedy little hands upon it. Pulling open the car door, he flung himself into the driving seat. ‘Certainly not. The factory is no place for a young woman.’

‘Really? Not even when the men are at war and women are fully occupied doing their jobs. Such was the case in France. The same must be happening here in England too, from what I understand.’

Glaring into her eyes, which now seemed to be twinkling with amusement, he felt a fury escalate within him. Why did this feisty little madam keep attacking him with such caustic remarks, and making constant demands? She was almost as bad as Melissa, if not half so grand. ‘Some other time,’ he growled, and drove off at speed.

*

Seeing that he was rampant with temper yet again, Brenda felt a sudden need to remember Jack, and explore all the favourite places they’d once enjoyed together. Turning on her heel, she headed towards the woodlands. The mountain rowan were flush with crimson berries, this part of the Pennines also cloaked with beech, oak, ash, Scots pine, birch, hazel, and even wild cherry, although not currently in bloom. How she loved this place. It took her back to the days when she and Jack would walk for miles over the hills, needing to enjoy some time together. Kit the dog would wander along beside them sniffing for rabbits, just as he was doing now. She even found one or two cairns they’d built to mark the way, and added an extra stone to each in memory of their time together. How her heart still ached for him.

Eventually feeling the need of a rest, Brenda settled herself beneath a chestnut tree, remembering how they would sit here to kiss and cuddle, the sweetness of his caresses flowing through her like fire. Brenda well recalled the day he’d proposed to her, following his father’s discovery of their relationship.

‘I’m so relieved that you’ve agreed to come with me to France,’ he’d told her as he smoothed his mouth gently over hers. ‘I can’t bear the thought of losing you. You are the love of my life, darling.’

‘And you mine.’

‘I’ve been to France many times with Mama, and love it. I hope you will too.’

‘I’m sure I will. I would be happy with you anywhere, my darling.’

‘It’s a wonderful country, and it will be so good to see Mama again. I’ve missed her dreadfully in recent months since she went back home. I’m sure she’ll welcome us with open arms. And no matter what Papa might demand from me, I so look forward to us at last being free. We will be together always.’

‘Oh, yes please!’

It had never crossed their minds to consider that the threat of war might hamper this dream. Hadn’t the Prime Minister, Neville Chamberlain, assured the nation that he had achieved ‘Peace for our time’, so why would they worry about such things?

‘I’ll be leaving by train from Uppermill on Friday morning.’

‘I’ve been ordered to leave first thing tomorrow. I’ll be staying with my friend, Cathie, in Castlefield.’

‘So you could meet me at Manchester Victoria? I should arrive by eleven at the latest.’

‘Of course,’ she’d said, kissing him again. ‘But we must make sure Sir Randolph doesn’t discover our plans. Were he to find out you intend to take me with you, he could change his mind and prevent you from going.’

‘We won’t tell a living soul,’ he’d whispered, cradling her in his arms. Then, with a little smile on his face, he’d shifted on to one knee and grasped her hand. ‘As soon as we’re settled in France and we’ve saved up enough cash from my much-reduced allowance, would you do me the honour of becoming my wife?’

‘Oh, Jack, I can’t think of anything I’d like more. I love you with all my heart.’

That had been the moment when Brenda would have been happy to give herself to him, her heart beating wildly. But even as passion had flared between them, both trembling with need, he’d gently released her. ‘Let’s not take any more risks, not until we’re safely away from this place. I suppose we’re taking a risk being here together now. If Papa realises we’re missing he could walk through these woods at any moment and find us, which would ruin everything.’

With great reluctance they’d parted, softly repeating their promises to each other. Brenda had spent the rest of the day saying sad farewells to Mrs Harding, Carter, Prue and even Kit the collie. Then she’d packed her small brown suitcase, and around dawn the next morning old Joe had driven her down the long winding hill to the station. She could remember watching the sun rise, lighting the sloping green hills with gold and pink, and thinking how she would miss this beautiful land. Yet she’d also felt an excitement burning inside her at the prospect of a new adventure in France.

When Friday came she’d stood by the clock at Victoria Station by ten in the morning, just in case Jack arrived early. Eleven o’clock came and went and just when she was nearly in tears of disappointment, he’d suddenly come walking towards her through the steam and smoke of the engine.

‘Sorry, the train was delayed, but here I am, my darling. Now we can be together forever,’ he’d said, lifting her into his arms and swinging her round, making her squeal with joy.

Fortunately, their journey to France had passed without incident, arriving just as Germany declared war. At first it hadn’t seemed real, as there were no major battles for some months, everyone calling it a ‘phoney war’. But German Jewish refugees were attempting to escape to America or England, synagogues were being burned, and realising things were about to get worse in France too, Jack and Brenda stopped bothering about saving up and quickly married in November that year.

It had been a wonderful wedding. Her gown of tiered cream silk, lent to her by Camille, was the most beautiful garment she’d ever worn in her life. Brenda had felt herself so fortunate, rich with love and happiness. And they had indeed possessed a marriage certificate. Sadly, she’d left it behind at Camille’s apartment and now it was gone, along with her son and darling mother-in-law. How would she survive without anyone she loved?

Getting to her feet with a sigh, Brenda called Kit to her, and set off back to find her old friend Prue.

Six

Prue had been astonished to discover how much she loved gardening. It was far more interesting than parading herself at some fancy social function organised by Melissa, her supremely glamorous sister currently living in London, a city she considered far more appropriate for her. But then relations with her siblings, save for dear Jack, had always been thorny. Prue felt as if her family now were the serried rows of vegetables that lined the kitchen gardens, her pride and joy the tomatoes and cucumbers growing in the glass-house against the south-facing wall, or the new autumn variety of raspberries she’d cultivated.

It amazed her to see how quickly a precious plant could grow to full maturity, or just as easily die if it fell into neglect. Gardening was all about life and death, preserving and reproducing. Prue still felt a bit nervous of making mistakes, of pulling up a prize plant thinking it was a weed, of watering too much, pruning too fiercely or not pruning at all. But she was learning all the time. She loved the hens and sheep too. Were it not for the war Prue would have chosen to attend horticultural college, but at least she’d learned a great deal from the land girls who’d helped on the farm. They were now gone, and in their place the farm had been allotted a Prisoner of War.

His arrival had changed her life completely.

There had been times in the past when Prue would ask herself if she truly was content to live here in the Pennines, largely alone, and devote her entire life to tending the garden. What about her future? Didn’t she yearn, like every other young woman or war widow, to preserve and reproduce herself as well as the plants and animals? Didn’t she long to love and to be loved? Was that the reason she’d rushed into that stupid marriage, her father and siblings seeming most uncaring? Now she would sit in the small cottage she occupied on the edge of the estate, the ache in her heart not for her dead husband, but an entirely different young man.

This morning Prue was happily pruning raspberry canes, working hard as usual, when she spotted him approaching and her heart skipped a beat. He was at her side in seconds but before he could steal a kiss, a flippant breeze whipped her hair across her mouth, robbing him of its sweetness. She laughed out loud at the look of disappointment on his face.

‘I love the softness of your skin,’ he said, trailing his lips over the curve of her throat, sending a quiver of fierce passion through her as he found the sensitive hollows beneath her ears. ‘And you always smell so wonderful: of strawberries or flowers.’

‘And sometimes cow muck,’ she giggled. ‘Oh, Dino, am I allowed to tell you again how much I love you?’

‘The more often you say that, the greater my heart explodes with happiness. Ti amo troppo la mia cara, and I will always love you. How fortunate I was to be sent here. It is as if I have been waiting for you all my life.’

‘You must have suffered so much, being held in that prisoner-of-war camp,’ she said, stroking the crisp tufts of his dark hair, which had a slight curl to it. He was tall and fit, with powerful shoulders, long lean legs, and the gentlest brown eyes she’d ever seen.

‘More of an internment camp. At least now they are allowing me to get out and work, even though I’m taken back to a camp in Gorton, Manchester, each night. I love working here,’ he said with a grin.

‘And we love having you.’

‘At least you do. Not so sure about your brother. I’ve lived in Ancoats since I was a toddler and, unlike my parents, I hardly speak a word of Italian, apart from being able to say how much I love you. It didn’t seem right for me to be arrested. I feel British to the core, even if I might look foreign.’

‘You look wonderful to me,’ Prue said, kissing him, and he softly laughed.

‘You do appreciate that, however much we might feel as if we belong together, it is not going to be easy. Before being transported to the Isle of Man, I was taken to a reception centre in Liverpool. I vividly remember hundreds of us being made to walk to the docks, the roads lined with soldiers armed with fixed bayonets. Crowds filled the streets to jeer at us, hurling insults, all because Mussolini had decided to link up with Hitler’s Germany, perhaps in the belief that it was only a matter of time before Britain surrendered. I heard someone shout: ‘Hang the buggers.’

‘Oh, how scary!’

‘I just kept my head down and did not say a word. There are people who now welcome PoWs into their homes, especially at Christmas. But sadly, much of the nation still holds us in contempt. When the war is finally over, waiting for our release could well take time.’

‘I’ll be happy to wait for you, darling, however long it takes. I will, of course, make every effort to help get you freed as soon as possible. I’m an optimist, so I have every faith we can achieve that, then we can be together forever. Although, I admit, my family may well create problems. I’d like to think Hugh might come round to accepting you. I’ll speak to him.’

‘That would be very brave of you, cara mia,’ he said, giving her such a dazzling smile that Prue melted into his arms yet again. It was then that she heard a door bang and quickly pulled away.

‘Look out, someone’s coming.’

‘Ciao!’And placing a kiss on her small turned-up nose, Dino grabbed a spade and marched away with it propped upon his shoulder, an expression of tranquil happiness on his face. Giggling, Prue ran to the dairy.

*

Brenda found Prue happily humming ‘Don’t Fence Me In’ as she washed the floor in the dairy. Standing at the door Brenda watched and listened with a smile on her face. Prue was a small lithe young woman with strongly muscled arms and golden blonde hair, and being Jack’s much-loved younger sister had always been a good friend. Glancing up, her lids widened to gaze upon Brenda in stunned disbelief. Dropping the hosepipe, she ran over to her, which caused water to spray everywhere, soaking Prue to the skin in seconds. Laughing, she dashed to the tap to turn it off, before flying back to hug her friend. ‘Brenda, I can’t believe it. How wonderful to see you again. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?’

‘I wanted it to be a surprise.’

‘It’s most certainly that. I thought you were still in France. Oh, I’m so glad to see you.’ Prue’s soft grey eyes slid over her, narrowing a little in concern. ‘Are you all right? You’re looking a bit skinny and tired. I dare say you’re still grieving for our lovely Jack?’

‘I’m afraid that will always be the case. He was a wonderful husband.’

‘Ah, so you did marry?’

‘Indeed we did, although I haven’t yet convinced Hugh of that fact.’

‘He is in the depths of despair himself right now, as we all are.’

‘I fully understand and offer you my sympathies, darling, as I did to Hugh. Although that failed to calm his temper.’

Prue gave an amused little smile. ‘He probably hasn’t forgiven you for robbing him of his best pal. They were almost like twins, those two, there being only a year between them. I hope he made you feel welcome. And is he prepared to let you stay? He never even told me you were here.’

‘I arrived only yesterday evening, but I’ll be staying only a day or two at most.’ Were it not for the fact that he was Prue’s brother, she might well have explained how Hugh had accused her of seducing and running off with darling Jack. Very sensibly, she remained silent on the subject. ‘But that’s fine, as I must return to Castlefield, hopefully to find myself a job.’

‘Oh, I do wish you could stay longer, but I’m sure you’ll succeed in finding one; you’re a hard worker. And the city centre is not too far away—an easy train ride—so you can always pop over for the odd weekend. I would love to see more of you, lovey, as I’ve missed you so much,’ Prue said. Tucking her arm through Brenda’s, she led her out along the garden path while tossing sticks for the dog. ‘So did the members of our staff, although I wouldn’t say that was a feeling generally shared by my father or siblings,’ she added with a rueful grin.

‘I’m fully aware of that fact. I missed you too, and am just glad to be here,’ Brenda said, recalling how Prue’s married sister, Melissa, had always been distinctly unfriendly and disapproving. Despite her anxious need to find her beloved son, Brenda had returned with some degree of reluctance to the family fold. She’d had few expectations of welcome, having been thrown out simply for falling madly in love with a wonderful young man. Would Jack’s grand sister still hold that against her?

Today, however, having found her dear old friend, she was feeling much more optimistic. The sun was shining, a beautiful bright day, which made Brenda feel much better. She’d long believed these hills possessed personalities of their own. Sometimes they appeared sullen and brooding, at others alight with promise. Now they were aglow with purple heather, which was so good to enjoy before the snows of winter blanketed them. She’d suffered enough from freezing snow to last a lifetime.

‘Did you enjoy staying with darling Mama?’ Prue asked. ‘I badly missed her when she left to return to France, but I’m so glad she helped you.’

‘It was thanks to your mother that I got this job in the first place. She was always so kind and generous. I came to love her dearly while caring for her in France. When did you last hear from her?’ Brenda asked, striving to curb the fear in her tone of voice.

Giving a slight frown, Prue shook her head. ‘I can’t remember. We received very few letters from her, probably because of the German occupation. But then Melissa received a telegram from a hospital telling us of her death. It was so heartbreaking I had no wish to even read it. It was a difficult time for me. My husband had been killed too, at El Alamein,’ Prue told her, then pulled her face. ‘We married in something of a rush because of the war, and spent one week together before he was sent overseas. I never saw him again.’

‘Oh, how dreadful. I’m so sorry to hear that.’

Prue gave a little shrug. ‘I’m not sure marrying him was the right thing to do. We hardly knew each other. I just fancied him, I suppose. Or else, deep in some secret part of me, I felt the need to rebel against my father for constantly ordering me to marry someone rich. And you know how impulsive I can be. I’m sorry he died, poor man. But even the week we spent together wasn’t exactly a happy one. If it wasn’t so tragic, it would almost seem like the plot of a Victorian melodrama.’

Brenda giggled. ‘Your family does seem to live in the past, and it must be quite lonely at times for you in this remote countryside.’

Hugging her arm closer, Prue whispered in her ear, ‘Actually, I do have a new friend. Earlier this year a PoW was placed with us. He was so pleased to be allowed out to work on the land, being originally interned at the Palace camp in Douglas, among other places in the Isle of Man, simply for being Italian.’

‘Oh, my goodness! I too was held in an internment camp, simply for being British,’ Brenda admitted.

Prue stopped walking to stare at her friend in horror. ‘Was that part of the traumas you’ve had to face? Please tell me more. What kind of a life did you and Mama live in Paris, and how on earth did you cope when the Germans arrived? Oh, do tell me everything, I need to hear all your news.’

Brenda brushed aside these questions with a sad little smile. ‘Maybe later. It’s a long story and not a pleasant one, thanks to the war. But Camille was very happy to be back in her home country. Sadly, in 1941 she had to leave her beloved apartment to live somewhere in the Loire Valley with her cousin, as I’ve explained to your brother. But I don’t know where.’

‘Why would she do that?’

‘Because of the dangers involved in staying in Paris. It was a complete nightmare.’

Prue’s eyes darkened as they met her friend’s gaze with deep sympathy. ‘This dratted war has ruined the lives of entire families.’

‘Indeed it has, including yours and mine.’ How could she be sure that her little Tommy was safe? The chill within Brenda worsened as images and memories she preferred to block out returned yet again to haunt her. ‘I like to think that all the traumas I’ve had to deal with have made me so much stronger. I’m sure the same is true of you too.’ Putting her arms about her friend, she gave her a warm hug. ‘So what is he called, this PoW?’

‘Dino, and we’re becoming quite close friends,’ Prue said, her cheeks turning slightly pink. ‘He’s a lovely man.’

‘Sounds as if it might grow into something more than friendship,’ Brenda commented with a smile.

‘It already has, not that I’ve revealed this fact to Melissa or Hugh. I know they would never approve. If they believed for one moment that I was falling for one of the enemy, I’m quite sure they’d send Dino straight back to the prison camp. And were it not for the fact that I’m their sister, they’d toss me out too, just as they did with you. So please don’t say a word to them on the subject, not till I’ve explained to Hugh how we feel about each other.’

‘Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.’ Brenda chuckled. ‘I firmly believe that we women should be free to make our own decisions in life, particularly when there’s a war on. So go for it, girl. Do what is right for you, as I did by marrying your lovely brother. At least we had some happy months together, if not the lifetime we’d hoped for. But the war will soon be over and we must then look to the future.’

‘We certainly will, and must help each other as much as we can. I can feel an anguish in you, sweetie, and I believe the only way to deal with such pain is for you to talk about it. I’m happy to listen.’

Looking into her dear friend’s eyes, Brenda realised she might well be right. She’d struggled so many times to do that in the past, sadly with little success. It was hard to find the right words to express her emotions. Some elements of the various traumas she’d suffered were now lost to her, shut out forever, perhaps because the stress and strain of remembering was far too painful. She really had no wish to dig down too deep and open that locked box again. But perhaps she could tell a little, if only in the hope that it might help her to sleep better and bring her back into the real world.

Sitting on a bench beneath an old oak tree, Brenda began to speak of what had happened to her following Jack’s death. But she resolutely made no mention of the birth of her son. There would come a time when she must reveal more facts, but not right now. She simply couldn’t cope with everything at once.