when he said, ‘She has your mannerisms.’ She had never imagined the child had watched her so closely as to pick up her ways and those of the other girls back in Article Row, where she also loved trotting around in Olive’s heels ‘helping her’ around the house. Sally knew that one day she would tell Alice the story of her parents and her loving home. She was determined now that the child would know the security and happiness of that kind of secure home life.
In Hyde Park another member of the household at number 13 was also enjoying the July sunshine. Tilly, Olive’s eighteen-year-old daughter, was sitting on the grass with her head in her American boyfriend Drew’s lap, whilst she read the newspaper article that carried his by-line.
‘Oh, Drew, it’s sooo good,’ she exclaimed when she had finished. ‘I do wish you’d let me read your book though.’
‘It’s our book,’ he told her, ‘but I don’t want you to read it until it’s finished. You know that,’ Drew reminded her, as he had done every time she begged him to let her read the book he’d started writing shortly after his arrival in London after the beginning of the war. But he softened his refusal with a tender smile and Tilly smiled back.
‘I can’t wait for you to finish and for it to be published. I think it should be published now.’
‘It won’t be finished until the war is over,’ said Drew, ‘and besides, there isn’t any paper to publish new books at the moment.’
‘That’s so true,’ Tilly said with a tinge of regret. ‘Like so much else,’ she mused as the country prepared to enter its fourth year of the war in September. ‘You could get it published if you took it back home to America. Your father owns a newspaper and publishing group after all.’
Immediately Drew sighed and then took hold of both Tilly’s hands, gently pulling her upright so they could face each other.
‘You know I can’t do that, Tilly,’ he said firmly. ‘My father wants only one thing from me and that is to step into his shoes and take over the business – to live the life he wants me to live and not the life I want to live.’ With you, he thought silently.
‘There’s nothing I want more than for you to be here with me, you know that, Drew, but I can’t help feeling guilty sometimes. Your family, especially your mother, must miss you so much.’
Drew sighed again. He knew that he’d never be able to make Tilly understand how different his family values were to those of her own. Tilly might be an only child, but Olive had given her far more love and a happier, more secure childhood than he’d had from his parents and his sisters too. There was a coldness that came ultimately from his father and it affected everything he grasped in his icy, domineeringly cruel embrace in the same way as the warmth that came from Olive’s love for her daughter reached out to all around her.
‘They might miss the person they want me to be, a figment of my father’s imagination,’ said Drew, ‘but that person isn’t me, Tilly.’ He looked away for a moment and then turned to her again, his eyes red-rimmed as if he was stemming unshed tears. ‘Please believe me when I tell you, honey, that I have spent the happiest days of my life here with you and your family.’
Tilly gave him a look of adoring love, although as her mother had brought her up to be considerate to others she felt compelled to say, ‘America is your home though, Drew, and seeing so many of your fellow countrymen over here since America joined the war must make you feel so homesick. I know it would make me feel unsettled.’
It was true, Drew thought as he paused for thought, seeing so many young Americans filling London’s streets had caused him some sharp pangs of patriotism and pride in his country and his fellow man, and as he and Tilly had vowed to always be honest with one another he knew that it would be an insult to Tilly’s intelligence to deny ever missing America.
‘Yes, it does,’ he admitted, ‘and yes, there are any number of things that I love and miss about my homeland, but nowhere near as many as I love and would miss about you if we were to be parted. England is your home and I hope it will one day be mine too. You are my home. You are my life and you always will be. Always.’
‘Oh, Drew,’ was all Tilly could say before he took her in his arms.
It wasn’t the done thing to kiss publicly in the street, but right now it seemed the most natural thing in the world, and for every disapproving look they received there were many more indulgent smiles from passers-by. It was wartime after all and who could blame a young couple who were so obviously in love for wanting to share every kiss they could?
A while later Drew told her softly, ‘I don’t feel I am making a sacrifice or that I would secretly prefer it if we made our home in the States. The truth is …’ He looked into the distance, across the park and sighed. ‘The truth is that by being here with you I feel like I’ve escaped from something and someone I was afraid I might have become. I’m a writer. I knew that deep down before I knew what it really meant. Nobody back home understands that.’
Again, that sense of fairness instilled into Tilly by her mother had her playing devil’s advocate in support of Drew’s absent family. ‘But surely once they see how important it is to you?’
‘No, Tilly. That will never happen. My family are different to you, they live by a different code of ethics than the ones you know. Money, and the power it brings, is what means the most to them. My father thinks he can buy anything or anybody and he usually does.’
Hearing the sadness, even despair, in Drew’s voice, Tilly was reluctant to press him any further. They had talked before on many occasions of his family situation, and the wishes of his father with regard to Drew’s own future.
‘London is where my book is set,’ Drew said as if she didn’t already know. ‘It is peopled by Londoners I have met and talked to all through the war … It’s where you are.’ He pulled her close to him, his heart thumping heavily, and he saw the way she looked at him, her love for him so openly and honestly on display. He knew that Tilly wasn’t the kind of girl to play games with a man she loved, and if that made her feel vulnerable it also made him more protective of her, he acknowledged as he cupped her face to kiss her.
Tilly didn’t object to his public show of love. Why should she? She loved being kissed by Drew and fervently wished they did more than just kiss, but Drew was insistent that they did not cross the line her mother had drawn. And they weren’t the only couple taking advantage of the warm sunny afternoon after the disappointment of the Whitsun Bank Holiday earlier in the year and Hyde Park was full of people out to enjoy themselves despite the war.
‘I can’t think straight when you kiss me like that,’ Tilly giggled when he finally released her, ‘and you know it. I just wish …’ All the longing in her passionate nature was there in her voice as well as the look she was giving him whilst Drew’s heart slammed in his ribs.
‘It is tempting and would be so easy for us to go back to my lodgings right now … And then I could truly make you mine forever.’ He wasn’t going to do that though and not just because her mother wouldn’t approve. He had his own sense of honour and he had his love for Tilly. Their wedding wasn’t going to be a rushed event with the eyes of the guests wondering if their first child would be born ‘early’. ‘I know what you wish, but our love for each other is something we will have all our lives, Tilly. I, too, want us to be together as husband and wife and we shall be. Your mom just wants to protect you and make sure I don’t take advantage, that’s all.’
‘I know that,’ Tilly was forced to concede, loving him even more if that was possible.
