The Pumpkin Coach by Susan Sallis

Author:Susan Sallis [Sallis, Susan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781446486030
Published: 2011-06-29T23:00:00+00:00

Eighteen

Two days later, Joe returned to Corsham. The following week, he rang the office at six-thirty to tell Alice about his posting to HMS Hermes. She knew by then that there was no baby.

They had arranged that she would wait in the milk bar until everyone had left, then return to the office via the front staircase to wait for his call.

‘Sometimes there are queues for the phone box. It could be a bit later.’

‘Don’t make it any earlier. If Mr Berry misses the Stroud train—’

‘I know. I won’t. I love you. You were right about – you know. I feel we’re married. I feel … settled.’

Alice had never felt quite so unsettled in her life. Even kissing was something they had rarely done before; there had been no need for any kind of demonstration of their love. Since the day at Cooper’s Hill, she had been constantly hugging him, kissing him, telling him she loved him. Whenever they were alone he had slid his hand inside her blouse and cupped her breast. They could not have gone on like that; in a terrible way, it was a relief when he went.

She got back to the office and stood over Mr Berry’s phone, willing it to ring. Joe was two minutes late and his voice came over the phone urgently. ‘Is that you?’

‘Yes. How are you? Have you heard anything? Are you all right?’

He was shouting. There must be a jostle of sailors outside, all wanting to phone their families to tell them about this posting. His voice reverberated against her ear.

‘Say that again, Joe. I can’t—’

‘I’m fine, darling. Really I am. I wish we were together. Lying together. I love you so much. I want you. Are you all right?’

‘Yes. This morning.’

There was a pause, and she could hear other voices pressing against her ear.

He said, ‘That’s good.’ He sounded disappointed. Perhaps he could have got compassionate leave if she had been pregnant.

‘Yes, it is, isn’t it? I’ve been so relieved. I can’t tell you.’

‘Have you?’ There was a wistful echo in his voice, then he said, ‘Of course – of course. I am too.’

‘Have you got your posting, Joe?’

‘Yes. It’s HMS Hermes. I’m sorry, darling.’

She gripped the phone. It smelled of tobacco and she coughed. He had spoken of various ships and commissions. Hermes was a minesweeper. There were minefields all over the world’s seas and oceans.

She said, ‘Do you know where you’ll be going?’

‘It’s the Far East.’

‘Oh!’ There were no words to voice her distress. He would be gone for a long, long time.

‘Listen, can you come to Plymouth? We’ve got two days in barracks. Getting equipment and kit. There will be evenings.’

‘When?’

‘Next week.’ His voice was being drowned by others. He shouted, ‘I’ll write. Take care. Can you go and see my mother? Take care …’ He was gone suddenly; the receiver replaced with a rattle. She took out her handkerchief and slowly wiped the mouthpiece of Mr Berry’s phone, before replacing it on its cradle. She thought of him in the phone box, with the press of bodies all around him.

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