Cupidity E-Book

Lucinda Lamont

• Herausgeber: Next Chapter
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

Britain, World War Two. After newly widowed Martha is invited to live with her wealthy confidante, Mae, she finds herself attracted to her husband.

Meanwhile, an escaped convict is targeting women close to Martha's new home. After several women are murdered, they realize the danger is closer than they could have ever thought.

As Martha's passion threatens to unravel her friendships, paths cross with devastating consequences.

Leseprobe

CUPIDITY

LUCINDA LAMONT

CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

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About the Author

Copyright (C) 2019 Lucinda Lamont

Layout design and Copyright (C) 2022 by Next Chapter

Published 2022 by Next Chapter

Edited by Elizabeth N. Love

Cover art by CoverMint

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the author's permission.

CHAPTERONE

‘Come on, Willy, do your coat up. This is going to be the start of a new adventure for us. You’ll get to live with Charlie. I wish I could have lived with a friend when I was your age.’

Martha pulled his zip up as far as his big woolly scarf would allow and pulled his little hat over his ears to make sure as much of his young, delicate skin was covered as could be. She stood up and looked around her. Taking it all in one last time. One last breath in this house. One last smell. The last time she would smell the scent that they had created as a family. The faint scent of John’s boot polish. A whiff of Willy’s talcum powder, and whilst everyone else might not smell it, the sweat and tears of Martha with a slight pang of her royal jelly moisturiser. She could hardly bear to leave this house. Once she shuts the front door for the last time, she shuts out the life she had with John. She shuts out the memories. The plans. Willy’s first few years. The happy times. The struggles.

Martha had accepted Johnny’s death. She had no other choice. All she had now were the memories.

Every day he was serving in the army she would worry. So many people had lost their lives. So much heartbreak and families torn apart, but he would always come back. Most times with no warning. He would bound in through the front door, dump his bags on the floor, and call out to his family. Firstly, he would pick up Willy in his arms and give him a tight squeeze and plant a big kiss on his little rosy cheek. Willy’s eyes would light up, and he would giggle with pure delight. His little laugh would fill the room with happiness, changing the normally nervous atmosphere instantly. Then Johnny would put Willy down next to his toys and look up at Martha who was watching them. Martha looked beautiful as always. She would be wearing her apron most of the times he came back, with her immaculate victory rolls set in her deep brown, bouncy hair. She had winter-like clear blue eyes and always had her signature slick of red lipstick on.

No matter what the occasion, she always looked glamorous and beautiful, and what made her most beautiful was that she had no idea quite how captivating she was. Johnny would forever be in awe. Everything that had happened, everything he had seen, all the trauma he had experienced, it would disappear when he saw her. She was his everything. She was what drove him when he felt weak. When he was scared, he would be brave for her and his son too. He would do everything in his power for those two. The apples of his eye, and boy, was it good to be home. He would take a step closer to Martha, and she would look at him.

Her stomach flipped every time she saw him. Twelve years together and he still made her weak at the knees; but every time he left, she felt sick to the stomach and would stay that way until he got back. She would finish drying her hands with the tea towel, a household item which had almost become like a comforter for her.

Like clockwork, the emotion would rise in her. She would try to fight it back; but the more she did, the stronger it would get. Her big blue eyes would start to fill quickly with salty tears, and then the first big tear would leak from her perfectly lined, doe-like eye and roll down her cheek; and then another and then another until she was crying uncontrollably. She would fling her arms around him and sob. He would pull her in, one arm around the top of her back and shoulders and the other at the bottom of her back, and gently rub his hand up and down her slight frame, soothe her and tell her it was ok. He was back now.

She hated doing this, and every time promised herself she wouldn’t the next time, but she knew that was a promise she couldn’t keep. She didn’t want him thinking she couldn’t cope, she didn’t want to make his job any harder for him than it was, but the relief to have him home every time was a feeling that would never grow old.

Those memories, for Martha, were to be just that. On April 22nd, 1943 life changed. It was one of those life events whereby people say you will never forget it, but it hadn’t been that way for her, she was already beginning to forget. It was one big blur, and that blur lasted for months.

On April 22nd, she had been playing with Willy. She had not long bathed him. He was on his baby towel on the living room floor, and she was drying him off. Although he did bear a slight resemblance to Martha, he was his father’s son, and she loved that. For every day that she missed John, she could look at Willy and know that he was with her. His eyes, although only baby eyes, would bore through her and reach right into her heart and soul. Mostly that soothed her, but sometimes the darkness of his pupils staring into her used to make her nervous and unsettled and wishing that John could be there immediately. She wondered if the baby was an indicator of John’s safety, and that’s why she would have those feelings sometimes. Maybe she could pick up a sixth sense from Willy when John was in danger; after all, he was made by both, he shared both of their genes. She would never know.

When she did see John, he would tell her nothing. He would say that everything was fine and that she shouldn’t worry so much. He was a man, a typical man, but also a gentleman and very loving. She hoped Willy would be just like him. How could he not? A beautiful baby boy. She leaned down and tickled him, and he began to laugh and coo. She then blew a big raspberry on his belly, and he laughed and giggled in sheer delight. His skin so soft and delicate – scrumptious. They played this game for a good few minutes. His laugh was so infectious, how could she stop?

There was a knock at the door. She called out that she would be just a minute. She wrapped little Willy up in his soft baby towel and stroked his face with her index finger.

‘Now you wait there like a good boy, Willy. Mummy will be just a second.’

She got up and wandered just out of sight to the door. The door was a solid wooden one with no window. She patted down her skirt, checked her hair, and, with what would become slow motion in memory, turned the golden latch on the door. The gloomy, poorly lit hallway came to life with beams of the outside world flooding it with colour. On the opposite side of the door to Martha was a boy of about fourteen. He had a plain envelope with a cross on it. Of that moment, that was all Martha could remember.

The boy had delivered a telegram. Martha had known what it was as soon as she saw the envelope. She had heard it before from people she knew quite well and others she barely knew. The news was always delivered by a teenage boy and the envelope would be plain with a cross on it. It was the fastest way of delivering the message. When she opened the door, she didn’t even see his face. She saw the envelope instantly and passed out.

The months passed by in a haze. Martha tried to be as strong as she could for Willy. Heavens, if it wasn’t for Willy, she might not have coped at all.

Martha kept thinking back to how they had met. She wished that she could go back to then. Go back to when they were all so young and happy and carefree. John, or Johnny as she affectionately called him, was her world. She came from a normal working family and was one of three sisters. She was the middle one. Their mother had died giving birth to Susannah, the youngest of the sisters. After that, their father had never been the same, choosing to drown his sorrows and slowly lose sense of reality. He became quite a cruel man. Whether it was him that was cruel or the alcohol that made him that way no one would know, but life was certainly not rosy for the girls back then. Jane was the eldest sister and the most beautiful. She was married off at seventeen. She married into a wealthy family and had hardly looked back since. These days they only heard from her on birthdays and Christmases and that was it. Martha didn’t blame her. Although Jane wasn’t as compassionate as Martha, she accepted her for who she was.

Martha just wanted to have a family of her own. A family that would always be together and never abandon each other. Susannah was to be the career woman. She went to college as soon as she was old enough to begin a career in nursing. She was a very sweet girl but possibly quite damaged. She lived in the wake of her mother’s death, and although their father had never blamed her, he might as well have said it at times. Martha was extremely proud of her younger sister and slightly disappointed in her older sister. Maybe disappointed wasn’t the word, just a bit sad that she married off and never got in touch. They had been so close when they were younger. Life hadn’t been easy for the Henderson girls, but you could say they had all achieved a life of their own.

Jane was married and living with a wealthy family. Martha was married to an army boy and had a baby, and Susannah had the brains and a bright career ahead of her. Yet, despite all of that, they had grown quite distant. Martha often felt lonely and left out, and so she was delighted when John asked her to marry him. They had been teenage sweethearts. He had chased her for some time, but she was rather reserved whereas he was not. He had that boyish charm, played the clown, and was ‘one of the lads’ as it were, but it was all camaraderie. He had loved Martha from the minute he set eyes on her.

It was June 1930 when Johnny and Martha had been introduced. He was playing rugby in the local league. He had played since little school. His Dad had always pushed him to be competitive but he didn’t mind; in fact, he thrived on it. He loved showing off, and he could because he was naturally very good at most sports. Martha had been invited to watch the match by her friend Mae. Mae’s brother played in the team, that’s how she got the tickets but that’s not why they were going. Mae had a big crush on several of the boys, and she would be happy to win the attention of any one of them or all of them. Although the two girls were best friends, they were different in appearance and morals to a degree. Mae was much more voluptuous than Martha but quite beautiful. She was confident, buxom, sexy, and much more outgoing than Martha. She always gave the impression nothing phased her. She was always on at Martha to show a bit more cleavage or even just a bit of skin. ‘It drives the boys wild,’ she would tell Martha.

Martha just wasn’t like that. She was nervous around boys, around a lot of people, in fact, and didn’t like to attract attention. Sometimes she wished she had an ounce of Mae’s confidence, but sometimes Mae’s confidence would make her cringe. Like the time when there had been a regatta on in town. All the men were competing in strength competitions such as tug of war and who could punch the punchbag the hardest. The women would all be helping each other out on the various cake stalls and mingling together, but not Mae.

She had to have a go at the tug of war. She had to punch the punchbag. She wasn’t any good at the challenges, but it would evoke a roar of applause and attention amongst the men, and she craved it, enjoyed it, and soaked it up. That day, the day of the Regatta, after they had cleared up from all the activities, they ended up at the local public house drinking until the early hours. Martha didn’t drink much and didn’t behave too differently from how she normally did, but Mae was dancing on the tables by the end of the night, singing at the top of her lungs, downing drinks and just being one of the boys. Sometimes it was fun to watch and sometimes it was rather quite unsettling for Martha. But that was Mae. The girls weren’t normally allowed in the pubs which is why Mae told Martha she should make the most of it.

Martha and Mae were quite different, but they were the best of friends. Deep down they both admired the other for being totally different to them; and they were girls, they both wanted the same thing, to be swept off their feet and be loved and be cared for and to play the wife. That’s what all the girls wanted. So, when Mae invited Martha to watch the rugby that day in June, Martha gladly accepted. She was a nervous girl, but she wasn’t one to miss out either. They arrived at the pitch together, and on the way there, Mae had already given Martha the low down on the whole team. She knew everything about everyone. Sometimes Martha wondered if Mae was talking to her specifically or just talking in general, but she didn’t mind. She liked the noise Mae made. It distracted her from her usually nervous and anxious mind. Mae had given Martha her top five players from the rugby team whom she would be happy to court, but with her looks, and her breasts, Martha was sure Mae could probably have any one of them.

The girls walked over to the drink stand and got a ginger beer each. Martha hated the taste of it, but Mae had told her it was a must because one of the girls at the Women’s Institute had told her it flattens the stomach. So, it was decided, that’s what they would be drinking until Mae got her hands on a new fad.

All the girls that were there at the rugby match knew Mae. When she walked over, there was a loud chorus of appreciation for her being there. They were the local glamour girls, if you like, all dressed up as if they were meeting royalty with as much makeup on as their faces could take and enough hairspray to piece together a broken vase. Martha was never going to be like them, not because she disapproved but because she didn’t know how to look or dress like them. Anyway, one thing she did know was that as much as they all seemed the best of friends, they weren’t really. Those girls would steal each other’s boyfriends, lie and backstab about each other, but then they would put on the airs and graces all the time when they were together. She found it most bizarre. Mae was a loyal friend to Martha. They had been neighbours since they were babies, so you could say that they were like sisters. Martha knew she was safe with Mae, and Mae knew with certainty that she was safe with a friend like Martha.

Once Mae had finished saying her hellos, she walked back over to Martha and linked arms with her.

‘Come on, let’s go and show these boys what they could have. Today we arrive as mysterious women, and we leave as wanted women.’

Martha’s stomach flipped with dreaded fear, but she knew there was no getting out of it. They walked over to the side of the pitch and found a spot at the front, of course, with some chairs to put their belongings on. Mae took off her coat to reveal her modern and somewhat tight dress. Those boys were in for an eyeful today. She looked at Martha and observed her fully covered body and began undoing her coat for her to reveal her neckline.

‘Come on, if you want to be noticed, you need to put in some of the effort.’

She meant it in the nicest conceivable way, but that was Mae. She wasn’t good at quotes, anecdotes, advice or compliments, but the difference was she meant to be. She tugged Martha’s coat off her, tidied her hair up, and looked at her like a picture had been unveiled.

‘Lovely. What man isn’t going to want us.’

The men were up the other end of the pitch warming up and preparing for the game. Mae was trying to find George, her brother. Well, she said she was trying to spot him, but what Martha mostly heard was, ‘I think he’s at the back next to Philip. Now, Philip I wouldn’t mind getting to know better. Sarah Gregson wouldn’t like it but that was ages ago so I’m sure he is fair game. Or is that him next to Andrew? Andrew is sooo divine. Louise from number 63 said he was big, if you know what I mean, but then he dumped her for Anna, Philip’s sister, and since then she said he’s nothing but a little boy, but I don’t think he is with Anna anymore anyway because Philip went mad about it…’

Mae went on, and Martha pretended to listen with the odd raised eyebrow or turned down mouth.

‘GEORGE. GEORGE. Over here.’

Martha wished she could put her head in her hands or that the ground would swallow her up. Mae was pretending to beckon her brother, but she was waving in such an animated way that her big bouncy breasts would sway and jiggle about. She knew exactly what she was doing, but to give her credit, she always got the result she wanted. David clocked the girls and headed over…with one of the other boys. Martha started feeling panicky.

‘Mae. Marths. Good to see you. Thanks for coming girls. Marths, this is my good friend Johnny.’

David had affectionately called Martha ‘Marths’ since they were children. He was the only one who did, but she didn’t mind. What she did mind was being set up but knew there was no getting out of it. Her face burned, and she felt like it must be a dark shade of crimson, but in fact, it was still her pretty English rose complexion, just a little bit rosier. Johnny took Martha’s hand and kissed it whilst performing a curtsy in her honour and introduced himself.

‘Hello, Martha, what a pleasure to meet you. I’m um, I’m uh, my name is…sorry, please excuse me, but I am taken aback by your beauty and those eyes. I’m Johnny, forgive me.’

Oh, he was good. Very good, she thought but she wouldn’t fall for it. Not that easily. You see, because the Henderson girls had lost their Mum, they had had to make up their own minds about the world of romance, love, and fairy tales. Their mother was a totally devoted wife and she loved their father, but then she died and their father became a broken man. The girls had no one to guide them, and so Jane became the hopeless romantic, Martha became guarded, and Susannah showed no interest in men at all, perhaps because their father showed no interest in her. Deep down, Martha was pleased Johnny had showed her some attention. It made her feel nervous (again), but in a good way, which was an unusual feeling for her. She told him he was being silly and that she was a plain thing really, but that she was grateful for the compliment. The boys got called over to begin the match. Mae watched Johnny run back to the centre of the field; she was now half-interested in the match which was half more than when they had arrived. She was enjoying her quiet daydream about what had just happened when she was interrupted by Mae’s squeal of pure delight.

‘You like him, don’t you? You really like him. I’ve tried so many times to find someone for you but never got it right, but I didn’t give up hope, I knew I would crack it. You’re like a little walnut, Martha. A tough nut but you can be cracked. Yes. This is so exciting.’

More wise words from our darling Mae there, thought Martha.

Martha didn’t consider herself to be anything like a nut, but she was happy to stay and watch the game. In fact, she was glad she came.

CHAPTERTWO

Martha boarded the train with Willy. She was panicking. Did she have everything? She was sure that she must’ve forgotten something. She had never moved to a new house before. Well, she had moved in with Johnny, but she only had a few bags of belongings then. Now she had packed up a house. A house of memories and a truck loaded with a family’s worth of possessions. Sometimes she would think she wasn’t old enough for this.

She was, but sometimes it was hard to believe it had come around so quickly. It didn’t seem like long ago that she and Jane would be playing with their dolls, dreaming of the day they would be mothers, wives, all the while Susannah would be in the corner reading. Three sisters, different hopes, different dreams. Jane would always have the grandest of the dreams. She wanted the big house, the beautiful wardrobe. She fantasised about not having to do much. She wanted a cleaner. She would be happy to cook because she enjoyed cooking and, as such, was very good at it. Being the eldest, she learnt from their mother, and when mother passed, she took over, so cooking had never been an issue. Running the house, however, that was down to Martha. She kept everyone organised, kept the house tidy, made sure all their clothes were clean and laundered. If anything, Jane had the easier job, but Martha wouldn’t dare ever tell her that. As far as Jane was concerned, she was the one that kept it all together.

Martha reminisced and wished that she had enjoyed the easier times more. She never dreamt of being a widow. She never dreamt of running the house, raising the baby alone, and she never dreamt of the void that she would be left with. She didn’t mind doing everything when Johnny was away, because all she dreamt about then was him coming home. Even when he did, she made sure he didn’t lift a finger. She loved being his wife. She loved showing him her gratitude for everything they had, not materialistically because they didn’t have much in terms of possessions, but just how much they had by being together. The love, the bond, their companionship, a friendship that never faded. Would she ever feel content again now that he was gone? She doubted it. How could anyone ever get close to her like she had been with Johnny.

Her thoughts were interrupted with a sharp squeal and then cries from Willy. A drunkard had pushed by on the train and hit Willy in the face with his case. Martha cradled him quickly and patted his hair. She then sat him on her knee and looked at his face. He had a mark just under his left eye that would bruise nicely. She looked up at the man who had hurt her son. A rage brewed inside her, but when she met the stranger’s eyes, she could see he was inebriated. She held his stare for a moment, and then he broke the silence.

‘What?’

He slurred and snarled aggressively. She held his stare for a moment longer and then looked down at Willy. She pulled him in and stroked his soft blonde hair and comforted him. She turned them both away so they wouldn’t have to see the angry drunk. She felt so pathetic. The old Martha would’ve been angry enough to punch that brute in the face, but she had lost a lot of confidence since Johnny died. She had always been a nervous character, but that would normally be pushed aside when it came to the protection and wellbeing of her baby. She felt so alone and each day she was just trying her best to get on with her life. She wished she had said something, she wished she had defended her son, but what then? He would’ve retorted probably and then she would’ve been even more scared. She knew that, as Willy got older, she would need to toughen up. She didn’t want him thinking she was a pushover, and she wanted him to stand up for himself if he needed to. She continued to stroke Willy’s hair and hummed him a tune; he started to drift off. He began to suck his thumb, which normally she would forbid, but on this occasion, she let him.

As Willy slept, Martha wondered what Johnny would’ve done if he had witnessed that drunk. She knew what he would’ve done. She didn’t need to wonder but she liked to; God she missed him. In that moment, Martha decided that this move was to be a big part in their lives. She knew it was anyway, but if she moved and carried on with her depression, anxiety, and thoughts as she had been, then nothing would change. She had to make a conscientious effort to make this a fresh start, a new beginning. She had to make Johnny and Willy proud.

Eventually, the train pulled in at their station. Martha wondered how long she had been daydreaming whilst Willy snoozed against her. Everyone was in such a rush to get off. She sat there with Willy and waited for the mad rush to calm down. She gently woke Willy up and pointed out of the window.

‘Look, Willy, look. We’re here. This is our stop. Look how many trains there are.’

Willy gently stirred whilst being nonplussed about the whole situation, but she was glad he was awake. Although he was only three, she didn’t feel quite as lonely when he was awake. Almost everyone had departed the train, so Martha took Willy’s little hand and stood up to leave. As she tried to manage their coats and a couple of bags, she saw the old drunk ahead continue to be rude and aggressive to the other passengers. In that moment, she was glad she hadn’t become as bitter as him. Whatever had happened to her, she had always managed to remain a decent person, and she felt good about that. She got to the exit of the carriage to join the platform. The drunk was a couple of people in front. She was fixated on him and still very annoyed that he had hurt her darling boy, and then, right in front of her, she watched him shove an elderly lady out of his way, giving her quite a fright.

The blood in her began to boil. The Martha that had been emotionally asleep for the last two years began to come to life. The noise around her began to fade, and the commuters around her became a blur. She found herself marching forward without any control. Her heart started beating faster, her top lip began to bead with sweat, and then, before she could even think what she was doing, she was right up behind him and just placed one foot slightly in front and across of his. She watched as he began to tumble, almost in slow motion. She stepped back still holding Willy on her hip. The drunk fell over and his drink left his hand, rolling across the platform. He was so drunk that it didn’t seem to cause any injury. The worst thing for him was that he had lost his drink. A few people began to gather around him to offer help to get him up, but he just shouted abuse at them all.

Martha stepped back, and the hustle and bustle became alive. Instantly, the station had become noisy again She was shocked at what she had done and began to feel guilty. She turned on her heels and was making her way to the exit when someone grabbed her by the elbow.

‘My dear, I saw what you did just there…’

Martha was horrified but turned to see her accuser.

‘You did? You saw what?’

The old lady smiled at a very worried looking Martha and placed her hand on her arm.

‘Don’t worry, petal. I am glad you did. I saw what that old fool did to your boy. He got off lightly if you ask me. Now, you look exhausted. Will you let me buy you a cup of tea?’

And with that, she took Martha’s arm and guided her towards a café just a short distance away. At first, Martha’s eyes pricked with tears, but then she let out a soft giggle, and before they knew it, they were both laughing. It was then that Martha knew the old lady had been sent to her. She was a messenger. A shining light to tell her she was ok, she was doing an excellent job, she would laugh again, and that perhaps this move wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

Evelyn, the elderly lady, was just what Martha needed that day. Once they sat down for a cup of tea, Martha’s fears and concerns had gone to the back of her head. She was genuinely enjoying herself. This impromptu meeting had become a welcome breath of fresh air for her. Evelyn was so sweet. She insisted on buying them a pot of tea, and she bought a little cake for Willy. Martha had wanted to pay, but Evelyn was having none of it. Evelyn was fantastic with Willy as well. She sat him down and told him to enjoy his cake and not worry about making a mess.

Evelyn had two grandsons of her own. She was immensely proud of them and clearly loved being a grandmother. Even when Martha wanted to go to the ladies’ room, Evelyn told her to go. Normally she wouldn’t dream of letting Willy out of her sight, but she knew without hesitation that he was safe with her. She went to the ladies, and for the first time in about four years, she felt carefree, light on her feet as she made her way to the back of the cafe. When she reached the ladies room, she felt a sense of release, as if something had lifted, the grey cloud that had been hovering over her had moved on. She hadn’t had a moment alone for such a long time. She was only gone for two minutes but she felt rejuvenated.

Then it dawned on her. What the hell had she done? She didn’t know Evelyn. This seemingly nice elderly lady had taken charge of the situation from the moment they met. She was the one who grabbed me, she realised. She was the one who insisted they went to a café. She was the seemingly natural one with Willy. Oh, my God, what if it was a setup? What if she was a child snatcher?

Martha’s heart started to pound in her chest. What the hell had she been thinking? Willy was all she had. All she had and now she had left him with a stranger. Her head became hot. She was almost too scared to walk out in case she found him gone.

Her heart now sounded like a steam train in her ears. She began to control her breathing and walked out into the cafe. She heard Willy’s laugh before she saw him. He was in fits of giggles. Evelyn had him on his back and was pretending to be a doctor whilst tickling him furiously. He was lapping up the attention, and more importantly, he was perfectly alright. Martha leaned back against the wall, and the relief that poured over her body acted like anaesthetic. She made her way back over to the table.

‘You two look like you’re having fun.’ She smiled and picked up her teacup and saucer.

Willy was laughing whilst shouting, ‘Again. Again.’

Evelyn sat him up and placed him next to her. ‘My boy, you are tiresome. I can’t keep up. I’m too old for a young sprog like you.’

Willy’s bottom lip started to go; he had loved the attention of someone new so much and he didn’t want the fun to end, so he started playing on it, but what he hadn’t noticed was that Evelyn was playing with him, her hand had formed pinchers and was going straight for his chubby little knee. She gave it a good squeeze, and he howled with laughter and wriggled and wriggled. It was then that Martha realised how good it was to have someone around, how good that bit of support would be, and then suddenly she felt relaxed that they were moving in with Mae, Peter, and Charlie.

Mae and Peter had Charlie in the same year as Martha and Johnny had Willy. The children had met a few times over various holidays. Mostly they got on fine despite the odd spat. Peter was friends with Johnny. They all met around the same time. Peter didn’t play in the rugby team like Johnny and Mae’s brother David, but he was a friend of David’s.

Peter was far too proud and flamboyant for rugby. He liked sharp suits and was always immaculately presented. He would always make quips that rugby was for men who had something to prove, perhaps he felt he had something to prove because he was always analysing other men. He was a good man nonetheless and very well suited to Mae. They loved to talk about other people and assume they were better than everyone else, but Martha always felt that they would talk this way because they were very insecure in themselves. They might have been, but they didn’t act insecure when they were together. They were always surrounded by people. Always hosting parties, they always wanted to be in the thick of it yet seemed so interested in everyone else and not in a healthy way.

After Johnny died, Martha received a small sum of money from the army – the remainder of his wages and a small amount of pension. He was only in his early thirties, so the proportion wasn’t huge. When he died, she didn’t care about anything. For someone who worried so much about everything, the wind had well and truly been taken out of her sails, and so she gave little thought as to how they would survive.

Luckily for her, her older and now wealthy sister Jane had offered to help them out and give them financial support. She visited once to break the news but didn’t stay long. Martha was still living in a haze at this point; the army pay-out had lasted about three months. It should have only lasted two, but she was very frugal and had to be like many other families at the time. She hadn’t asked Jane for anything. No one in the family had any money apart from Jane, but Martha didn’t consider herself to be Jane’s problem. All the family knew what had happened, of course. Jane sent her condolences, Susannah stayed with Martha for a week, and her Dad called her but she couldn’t make out much of what he was saying. He was drunk again, she guessed. She never heard from him again.

But, to her surprise, Jane arrived one day. She remembered it well because she was having a good day. Spring was coming, and it was about four months after Johnny’s death. She had woken up, played with Willy, and cleaned the house; there wasn’t much to be cleaned but she did a lot of cleaning that morning and caught herself humming a tune whilst doing so. For whatever reason, something lifted her that day, and she managed to feel slightly upbeat for the first time in a long time.

There was a knock at the door, and Martha was delighted to see it was Jane. Jane looked glamorous and incredibly striking, with long, golden blonde hair and green eyes. She had long eyelashes and full lips. She was beautiful. No one could deny her that. Martha ushered her in and offered to take her coat which Jane accepted; in fact, she was more than comfortable with it. She had let the wealth get to her. She stood there, tall and slender, whilst Martha walked around her and removed her heavy, double-breasted, military-style coat with a fur neck collar. A couple of years ago, Martha thought Jane would’ve taken her own coat off, but she had clearly become accustomed to her own lifestyle. Martha didn’t care really. She was overjoyed with the surprise visit. Jane walked through to the living room and looked at Willy. She kneeled and took his hand and looked at her nephew.

‘Look who is a big boy now? My, don’t you look like your father.’

She stayed silent for a minute; they both did. Willy stared at her with his big eyes and then looked at Martha and asked for a biscuit.

‘No biscuits today, Willy. We don’t have any left, and Mummy doesn’t have any money.’ She went through to the kitchen and sliced him up an apple. ‘Jane, how lovely to see you and so unexpected. I shall put the kettle on and make us some tea.’

Jane didn’t say anything; she just looked around at Martha’s tired house. It was tidy and neat but it was looking a bit drab. Martha put the kettle on the hob and shouted out from the kitchen.

‘So, what brings you here, Jane? I’m delighted, just delighted to have you here.’

She wanted to go over and have a big cuddle and for them to squeeze each other tight, but she could see that was not the right thing to do. Jane sat there on a dining chair looking like a movie star. Her hair, her makeup, the clothes… she looked incredible. Jane didn’t seem to relax. It was like she didn’t want to be there, but she eventually spoke.

‘Martha, I am not staying long. I have come to do one thing only and then I am on my way.’

Martha brought the cups over to the dining table and sat down. ‘What’s the matter, Jane? This seems serious? Has something happened?’

Jane snapped at her. ‘Of course, something’s happened, Martha. Your husband died, and now you can barely keep a home going for you and Willy. I’m sorry. I just feel so helpless. Here I am with no worries like that but with nothing to spend it on and here you are with a world of responsibility and no income or help to lighten the load. I’ve come to help. I am going to give you some money. To help you both get by.’

Martha didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. ‘I don’t… I don’t need your money,’ she stumbled.

‘Yes, you do, Martha. You need it much more than I do, and so I am going to help you. I don’t want a song and dance made about it, just let me help, will you?’

With that, Jane and Martha agreed an arrangement where Jane would send her the money she needed to survive every month. Partly she was relieved. She had been struggling for months. Her Dad wasn’t nearby to help, not that he would be much help these days. Susannah was working seventy-odd miles away, and Jane just wasn’t around. Even today, although she visited, she didn’t seem like she was there. It was as if her mind was on other things. She had arrived and left in what seemed like a flash, but once the day’s events had sunk in, Martha couldn’t help but feel Jane had her own battles going on.

Martha slowly came to and realised that she was still in the café and that Evelyn had been chatting away, but she hadn’t heard any of it. She hoped Evelyn hadn’t noticed as she hadn’t intended to be rude.

‘Well, I must be off,’ said Evelyn. ‘I am visiting my son and I don’t want to be late.’

Martha thanked Evelyn for what had been a lovely hour or so. She wanted to ask Evelyn if she was local. She quite fancied them being friends. She almost saw Evelyn as a mother figure in that split second and thought how nice it would be to have a friend that could take pity on her and lend her an empathetic shoulder from time to time. The hour they had just shared was mainly passing the time of day, talking about Willy and such.

Martha wished she had asked Evelyn more questions and regretted being selfish with the opportunity that she had been given. Evelyn stood and put her small silk scarf on around her neck and picked up her coat. It was quite cold outside but not as chilly as it had been, so she didn’t have the need for it really. She picked up her bag and patted Willy on the head and said her goodbyes. Martha told her how lovely it was to have met and instantly felt empty as she walked away. Martha stared into space. She had been pleasantly distracted by Evelyn and now she was left with her thoughts again. Suddenly she regained focus and turned to the table where Willy was happily entertaining himself. Martha noticed that Evelyn had left money on the table for the tea and biscuits. She felt terrible that she hadn’t noticed and looked out of the window, but Evelyn was gone. Nowhere to be seen. Martha felt even worse now. She hoped Evelyn didn’t think ill of her. She liked Evelyn and had enjoyed sitting with her.

CHAPTERTHREE

‘Good evening and welcome to your news bulletin on this day May 7th, 1944. With me, Roger Stephens. Tonight’s main story is that a body has been found on the outskirts of Henley. Formal identification is yet to take place, but police have confirmed that the death was indeed murder. Currently they do not know who they are looking for but have asked the public to remain vigilant after what they have described as an act of brutality. Should you have any concerns or think you may have any information regarding this incident, please contact your local police station immediately.’