enclosing her as well.
‘Come here, pumpkin. My God, look at you. You’ve grown so much.’
‘Are you hungry, Doug?’
‘Hilda, you know me, I’m always hungry.’
‘Yes, like father like daughter,’ Hilda said happily. ‘Well then, I’d best get you something to eat.’
Gertie had seen Ellen looking at her, the puzzled look on her face, and somehow managed to compose herself. It hadn’t been easy. She hated seeing Hilda in Doug’s arms, kissing him, and anger, along with jealousy, made her stomach churn. Hilda looked ecstatic as she scurried to make Doug something to eat, and now his attention was focused on Ellen as he sat down, pulling her onto his lap.
‘How’s my girl, then?’ he asked, hugging her close.
Gertie couldn’t stand it any more. Doug’s arrival was an unwanted intrusion, spoiling everything, and her carefully built-up illusion was being shattered again. When he’d left last time she had picked up the pieces, comforted Hilda, pretending sympathy when she cried, but feeling nothing but joy as she held Hilda’s slender body in her arms. Hilda seemed so fragile, so delicate, but of course that was an illusion too. Hilda was an enigma, appearing frail, yet sometimes as tough as old boots and was it any wonder that she loved this feisty, yet sometimes soft, woman?
Of course it hadn’t lasted, Hilda’s tears abating, and, with no excuse to wrap her arms around her, Gertie had to be content with just the occasional quick hug. Hilda had been with her for so long now and she’d been sure they were growing closer, dreamed of feeling Hilda’s lips on hers, but now Doug was here to come between them again.
‘What’s up, Gertie? You don’t look pleased to see me.’
Startled out of her thoughts, she said, ‘Er … of course I am, Doug. It’s nice for Hilda and Ellen, but such a shame you’re only here for three weeks. Anyway, lots to do so I’d best get on.’ On that note, Gertie hurried outside. Three weeks! Why couldn’t it be three days? Even better, three hours. There was only one crumb of comfort, Gertie decided as she tramped over the smallholding. When Doug left, Hilda would be distraught and would turn to her again for comfort.
It was only when they were in bed that night that Hilda and Doug could talk privately, but as they fell into each other’s arms after nearly two years apart, all Doug’s worries were put to one side as he made love, first passionately, and then gently, to his wife.
The sheets and blankets were in a tangle, their bodies glistening with perspiration, but now, as Hilda lay with her head on his chest, his worries returned and Doug voiced his thoughts. ‘Hilda, what’s going on with Gertie? She didn’t look too pleased when I arrived.’
‘I didn’t notice. I was too busy looking at you.’
‘I know I asked this last time I was here, but has she, you know, tried it on?’
‘Of course she hasn’t. I’ve told you before, we’re like sisters.’
‘Then how come when I was hugging you she looked jealous?’
‘Don’t be daft. You’re imagining things,’ Hilda told him.
‘If you say so,’ Doug said doubtfully as his eyelids drooped with tiredness. It had been a long day, delay after delay on the trains before he’d finally arrived; his last thought before falling asleep that he’d keep an eye on Gertie while he was here. If his suspicions were right, he wanted his wife and daughter as far away from her as possible.
Hilda lifted her head to see that Doug was asleep, the soft glow of a full, luminous moon shining on his face. She moved gently away to prop herself up on one elbow, gazing at him, heart bursting with love. Every day she had worried about his safety, fearing that his ship would join so many others that had been sunk with horrendous loss of lives. The thought of U-boats terrified her, visions of huge, dark prey, sneaking silently under the seas, torpedoes ready to strike unsuspecting vessels. She had nightmares, seeing Doug’s ship hit, of him fighting to get on deck while fire raged all around him. Hilda shuddered, recalling the many times she had awoken in the night, her nightmares so vivid she had thought them real.
She frowned, thinking about what he’d said about Gertie, and, though she had denied them at the time, his concerns echoed her own. Gertie had looked annoyed when Doug arrived, and she’d been funny with him all day.
Doug turned in his sleep and as his arm wrapped around her body, Hilda at last lay down. She didn’t want to worry about Gertie, didn’t want her short time with Doug ruined. She’d continue to deny her concerns and, anyway, Gertie hadn’t really tried anything – just an occasional hug that didn’t really make her feel threatened in any way. If Doug thought there was more to it, he’d go mad, so she would just have to alleviate his worries somehow.
Hilda snuggled closer, pushing thoughts of Gertie away. For now she could hold Doug – for now he was safe, but already she was dreading the thought of him going back to sea.
The dawn chorus woke Ellen, and finding herself in a different room for a moment she was disorientated. Her last memory was of falling asleep on her dad’s lap, that thought causing her to sit bolt upright in bed. Her dad! Her dad was here and must have carried her up to bed in Gertie’s room.
Excitedly, Ellen flung back the blankets, careless of the cold linoleum underfoot as she scampered to see him. ‘Dad!’ she cried, jumping onto the bed.
An eye opened, a groan, and then he said, ‘Blimey, pumpkin, you’re up early. Come on, you’re cold. Get in between me and your mum.’
Ellen scrambled into the bed, uncaring that she had woken her mum as her arms wrapped joyfully around her father.
‘Ellen, your feet are freezing,’ Hilda complained, ‘and you’re a bit big for getting into bed with us now.’
‘Leave her, Hilda. She’s all right with us for a while.’
‘Doug … you … you haven’t got anything on.’
‘Bugger, I forgot about that.’
‘Why haven’t you got your pyjamas on, Dad? Did you forget to bring them?’
‘Er … no,’ he said, ‘but shift over for a minute and I’ll put the bottoms on.’
As his arm reached out to grab them from a nearby chair, Ellen was aware that her mother was getting out of bed. She turned over, eyes wide when she saw that her mum was naked. ‘Mum, where’s your nightdress?’
‘Stop looking at me. I forgot to put it on, that’s all.’
‘Hilda, now that you’re up, how about a nice cup of tea for your old man?’
‘See what you’ve done, Ellen,’ she complained, shrugging her flannelette nightdress over her head.
‘Blimey,
