The Grafton Girls - Annie Groves [119]
The sight of a familiar face up ahead of her in the queue to show passes provided a welcome distraction.
‘Susan!’ Diane exclaimed, hurrying up to the other girl. ‘It’s good to see you back.’
‘Thanks.’
Diane tried not to show how shocked she was by the change in Susan’s appearance. She looked thinner and older, with a bleakness in her eyes that couldn’t be hidden, not the lively self-confident girl who had first greeted her on her arrival at Derby House at all.
‘I’m so dreadfully sorry,’ Diane said, helpless to say anything more.
‘Yes. He was a good man. One of the best. He tried to…to hang on, but in the end it was too much for him. He’d been in the water too long, you see, and…they amputated his toes first and then the lower part of his leg. But then…’ Her whole body was shaking, heaving with the pressure of the tears she was refusing to cry.
Overwhelmed with compassion for her, Diane drew her into a secluded corner, keeping her arm protectively around her.
‘Oh God, Di, I am so glad that he died. Isn’t that a shocking thing to say? I loved him but I wanted him to die! Not for me but for him. Can you understand that? I couldn’t bear to see him dying inch by inch, you see, as they cut him to pieces bit by bit…’
Diane didn’t say a word as she held her and tried to comfort her. What words were there for her to say, after all? Pity had gripped her by the throat anyway, silencing anything she might have wanted to say.
‘They said at the hospital that they’d sign me off for some compassionate leave if I wanted, but I’d rather be here, back at work. At least that way I feel that I’m doing something to help get this war over with so that other men don’t die like him.’
‘He’d be so proud of you for being so brave,’ Diane whispered to her, whilst she wondered inwardly if she could have done the same if she had had to sit at the bedside of the man she loved and watch him die. To her chagrin the face she could see inside her head was Lee’s, not Kit’s: Lee, with his blue eyes dark with pain and the desire for death, his body racked by pain. Stop it, stop it at once, she commanded herself shakily. Take a leaf out of Susan’s book and bury yourself in work to forget the pain.
TWENTY-FOUR
Myra stiffened as Nick cursed.
‘Asshole English rubbers, they’re bloody useless. For a start, they ain’t big enough.’ He dropped the split rubber and opened a new packet.
It was just gone ten in the morning, and they were still in bed in their suite. Officially Myra had her own room, since the suite possessed two bedrooms, but of course, as she had known he would, Nick had insisted she share his bed.
He had woken up half an hour ago, complaining about the lack of proper coffee, and saying that the band they had danced to the previous night had been nowhere near as good as a New York band. Myra had come to learn that Nick had to be coaxed and flattered out of these bad moods, so she had smiled at him and put her arms around his neck, telling him how much she was enjoying herself and how wonderful he was.
Now, as a result of that, she was going to have to lie here and let him have sex with her, but at least that would put him in a better mood. It was a pity it was Sunday otherwise they could have seen a few more of the ‘sights’, but at least she had her lovely new dark red rustling taffeta frock, bought from a woman who had arrived at the hotel with a selection for her to try