Summer House by Nichols Mary

Author:Nichols, Mary [Mary Nichols]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780749009786
Publisher: Allison & Busby
Published: 2010-10-05T04:00:00+00:00

Although he had two weekend passes in the meantime, it was Christmas before he got his next full leave. Meg was spending it at home, but Daphne, whose mother had died in a road traffic accident in the blackout the previous summer, opted to stay at Bridge Farm with the boys. The twins, having had their first term at grammar school, were disappointed their father could not get leave, but he was out in the Atlantic somewhere on convoy duty. Kathy did her best to make it a happy occasion in spite of the war and the shortages, and indeed, it did look as though things might be looking up with the entry of the USA into the conflict after the Japanese raid on Pearl Harbor. But the euphoria was short-lived. Hong Kong surrendered on Christmas Day, the Germans were at the gates of Moscow and the British fleet in the Mediterranean sustained terrible losses trying to get to the aid of beleaguered Malta. But Christmas was Christmas and Bridge Farm was a haven of gaiety, even if it was a little forced. Steve was determined to enjoy it and refused to think about bombing raids and flak and anything except that he was home and that he could see Laura.

They had been corresponding but that was hardly satisfactory. He could not tell from the written word what she was really thinking and feeling; her letters were newsy and affectionate, but as one friend to another. He lost no time in walking up to the Hall with Christmas presents. She was expecting him and was dressed in a pretty blue silk dress with a matching bolero. Aunt Helen was there too, a little greyer, a little thinner, but that wasn’t the only change. She seemed to glow with something he might have called love in anyone else. The nearest he could think of was fulfilment. After years of living the life of a recluse, she was busy, and glorying in it. He kissed them both on the cheek.

‘How are you?’ Laura asked.

‘Fighting fit. And you?’

‘Ditto.’

He lifted the parcels he was carrying. ‘Christmas presents.’

He watched them unwrap them. A scarf for Helen and a silver brooch in the shape of wings for Laura. For Robby he had found a teddy bear, dressed in a flying jacket and helmet. The two women thanked him and kissed him, and Laura fetched Robby to receive his. He was growing into a sturdy boy, able to crawl all over the floor and pull himself up to his feet if he had something firm to hang onto. On this occasion it was Steve’s knee. This, he realised, was the test. Could he love the little lad, could he forget he was Bob’s and that Laura held Bob’s memory sacred? If he showed the slightest hesitation about that, Laura would know. He picked him up and sat him on his knee. Robby grinned up at him, revealing tiny white teeth.

‘The men all spoil him,’ Laura said. ‘He doesn’t care what they look like.

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