Philippa Carr - We’ll meet again

“Is that all you’ve been worrying about all this time?” demanded Florette.

The four of us looked at each other and smiled, remembering what we had imagined.

“How did you know I was worrying? Was it so obvious?”

“Poor old Marian,” said Florette. “People in show business always knock off a few years. It’s all part of the game.”

We all laughed. That was a very merry evening at the Café Royal.

MAY HAD COME AND there was a feeling of anticipation everywhere. Great events were about to burst upon us and people were saying that the end of the war was not far off.

Richard was reticent about his activities and I guessed that he was involved in some secret operation. His leaves were less frequent and when they did come we made the most of them.

He very much enjoyed those evenings we spent in the Victoria flat. He would send a message to me and I would be there, going through the cupboard so that I could make supper by the time he arrived, for it was always uncertain how long he would stay or even if he should be called back almost immediately. There was a telephone in the flat and on one occasion he was called back when we were in the middle of a meal.

It was a beautiful day and I had had a message during the previous one. He could get away. Could I be there? I think we all felt at that time that we must be free when a soldier friend wanted to see us. There was always a possibility that it might be the last opportunity for a long time.

I went to the flat and let myself in, for Richard had acquired a key for me. I went into the kitchen and prepared the meal. It was almost ready by the time he arrived. He looked a little strained, I thought.

“Has life been hectic?” I asked.

“I should say so. Hardly a minute when one isn’t rushing somewhere. I think these little respites are going to become fewer in the weeks to come.”

“Let me wait on you,” I said, and I poured a drink for him.

“It’s good to be here,” he said. “I’ve grown fond of this little flat. Have you, Violetta?”

“Yes, I have.”

“I have never experienced coming across an oasis in the desert, but I imagine it is like this.”

“I have the supper all ready.”

“That sounds like bliss.”

“So you think something is about to break?”

He lifted his shoulders.

I went on: “All very hush hush, I suppose.”

“Top secret.”

“I see. I hope you are going to like your supper. I’ve had to improvise a bit.”

“It will taste delicious, I am sure.”

“Don’t be too sure. Just hope.”

I sat down with him while he finished his drink. I thought he looked a little uneasy. I tried to amuse him with gossip about the Ministry and made much of Marian’s drama.

Suddenly he said: “Violetta, I want to talk to you seriously. This may be my last visit to the flat for some time to come.”

I was alert. There was something different in his attitude.

“I can’t tell you how much our meetings have meant to me. You remember how it was in the past.”

“I remember,” I said.

“I asked you to marry me then. If only you had …”

“We both felt it wasn’t quite right, didn’t we?”

“There were misunderstandings. We could have cleared those up … and then there was this Cornish man.”

“There really always was,” I said.

“Do you think he will ever come back?”

“I have to think that he will. I have to hope.”

“There is only one hope. If he is a prisoner and Europe is liberated, he might be able to get back.”

“I feel sure he is alive.”

“That’s because you want to believe it. It’s highly improbable, Violetta.”

“Lots of highly improbable things happen.”

“I think you must know that I love you.”

“I know-we are very good friends. We always were.”

“One can love one’s good friends, can’t one? All these days we have been together, I’ve had to stop myself from telling you everything.”

“Everything?”

“Yes. I have a great deal to tell.”

“Do you want to tell me?”

“I must.”

“Well, I am listening.”

“It isn’t easy, Violetta. When the war is over and it is absolutely certain that Jowan will never come back, would you marry me?”

“Oh, Richard!” I cried. “I can’t let myself think of his not coming back. I don’t think I shall ever want to marry anyone but Jowan.”

“You can’t spend the whole of your life mourning for someone who will never return.”

“I suppose some people have done that. In any case, I can’t believe that he is dead. His grandmother feels the same. We understand each other absolutely.”

“It could be that you are deluding yourselves. Perhaps, when the war is over and he has not come back …”

“He will come back. I know he will.”

There was silence for a while, then he said: “I daresay you have wondered how things could have been so different between us … different from the way they were, I mean. You remember how in the past I urged you to marry me?”

“Yes, but it didn’t happen.”

“I had a reason for not asking you again … not, as they say … pressing my suit.”

“I just thought we were good friends and all that was over.”

“It is not over for me. But I will tell you why I could not ask you to marry me. It is because, Violetta, I have done a very foolish thing. I am married already.”

I stared at him in amazement. “Then where … ?”

“Where is my wife? I have no idea. I have not heard of her for more than a year. It was a disastrous mistake. The war had just started. I had made friends in the army. One of them had a sister. She was a very accomplished young lady. Lady Anne Tarragon-Lee was her name. She was sophisticated, clever, somewhat haughty, and I was rather flattered, I think, that she should show me some attention. I don’t know how I could have been so foolish, but those were the first days of the war when everything seemed exciting. We were all waiting for the battle to start, and you know there was the long wait. It seemed like an unreal war. For me, army life was like being at school again. I felt irresponsible, I suppose, and I can’t quite explain how it happened. It seemed wonderful at the time.”

I was so amazed that I remained silent. Richard, whom I had always thought to be so practical, so full of common sense, to have married rashly! It was hard for me to believe.

He understood my feelings, for he said: “I see it is difficult for you to understand. It was the times, I suppose. We were all a little bemused then.”

“And you are no longer bemused?”

He nodded. “I soon realized the folly of what I had done.”

He paused and, as he did so, I heard the air raid warning, faint at first but growing louder.

He disregarded it. After all, we were accustomed to hearing its frequent wail.

I said: “And now … where is your wife?”

“I have no idea.”

“Do you not see each other?”

We started as the crunch of a falling bomb hit the air.

“Not far off,” commented Richard, then: “I hope they are not coming this way.” He went on: “I think she is as eager to be free as I am.”

“There will be a divorce?”

“I expect so. There are many like us. We rush into these wartime marriages and then have to concern ourselves with getting out of them.”

“Well, if you both feel that way, it will be easier, I suppose.”

We heard the bomb fall, nearer this time; we sat listening to the sound of falling masonry.

Richard said: “That was very close. I think we had better get out of here.”

I rose, prepared to go down to the basement which was used as a shelter for the flat dwellers. I picked up my coat and handbag and we went to the door, but we did not reach it, for suddenly the earth seemed to open and I was falling. Richard was not there. My eyes and mouth were full of dust. I was lying down and then the darkness descended.

I awoke in a bed in an unfamiliar room. I noticed other beds. When I saw the girl in a nurse’s uniform, I realized I was in hospital. Then I vaguely remembered being in the flat and hearing the falling bombs.

Richard, I thought immediately. Where was Richard? We had been together on our way to the basement… and then this had happened.

The nurse came and stood by my bed.

“Hello,” she said. “Feel all right?”

“Where am I?”

“St. Thomas’s.”

“Hospital?” I said.

“That’s it. Nasty shock, was it?”

“We were bombed, of course.”

“That’s it … along with others. It was a bad night.”

“My friend?”

“Oh yes, he’s all right. I mean he’s here. He came off worse than you did.”

“Can I see him?”

“Not now, dear. See if you can drop off. A sleep will do you the world of good.”

“What time is it?” I asked.

She looked at the watch pinned on her blouse.

“Just on two.”

“In the morning?”

“In the afternoon, dear.”

“So all this time …”

“Now, you get some rest.”

“But I must know.”

“You’re all right. You’ve been lucky.” I could see she was not prepared to give me any more information.

I felt tired and dazed, unable to remember in detail what had actually happened.

I must have slept and when I awoke it was to see my parents at my bedside. My mother was watching me anxiously.

“Oh, she’s come round,” I heard her say. “Violetta … darling … it’s all right. We’re here, your father and I and Dorabella. We came as soon as we heard.”

“It was a bomb,” I said.

She sat there, holding my hand; my father was on the other side of the bed. I saw Dorabella and the concern in all their faces.

I felt too tired to think, but I was certainly comforted to know they were there.

The next day I felt a great deal better. My mother said I had been in shock. Apparently the bomb had demolished a house nearby and what we had felt was the force of the explosion. It had damaged the block of flats considerably; the roof had fallen in and the windows were all shattered. We were lucky not to have been nearer to the bombed house. Two people had been killed and a number injured.

I was told I could leave the hospital the next day.

Fortunately, I was able to see Richard before I went. Although he had suffered more than I had, I was relieved to see that he was not seriously hurt.

His face was grazed and he had lost a certain amount of blood through a wound in his leg, but nothing was broken and the doctors said that in a week or so he could leave the hospital, though the leg would undoubtedly need further attention.

My mother said that when he was well enough he must come down to Caddington. She was taking me off at once.

It was wonderful to be at home. I was greeted rapturously by Tristan and by Nanny Crabtree with a mixture of tenderness towards me and fury against “that Hitler.” She declared that if she could get her hands on him she would know what to do. There were tears in her eyes as she surveyed me.

“I never did hold with that going off to work in ministries. Well, you’re home now. We’ll soon have you fattened up.”

Nanny’s cure for all things was “fattening up.”

They were lazy days. After my ordeal I needed a rest. I did have one or two dreams in which I would be back in the flat, when I heard the crunch of the bombs and felt myself slipping down into darkness. I suppose the memory of that sort of experience stays with one forever.

I thought a great deal about Richard’s revelation. It was difficult to imagine his making a disastrous marriage. I should have thought he would have considered such a step very carefully before he undertook it. He had always seemed to me to be so prosaic, and practical in the extreme.

I supposed she had been very attractive. Lady Anne! He might have liked the title. Beautiful … seductive … poor Richard, he seemed to be unlucky in love. It occurred to me that one could never really know people. They so often stepped out of character and did the unexpected.

And now he was married to her. He must have been contemplating divorce seriously as he had suggested marrying me. I felt sorry for him. He had obviously not wanted it known that he had married unsuccessfully. Richard was the sort of man who would hate to be thought unsuccessful in any way. So he had kept that marriage a secret,