The Grafton Girls - Annie Groves [128]
‘Very well, but you won’t make me say that it was Glen’s fault and I won’t be lying either,’ Ruthie told him fiercely. ‘Glen doesn’t play cards for money. He told me that his parents don’t approve of that kind of thing, and neither does he.’
Slowly and carefully, her voice trembling as she fought for the right words, she started to tell Glen’s commanding officer what had happened. It wasn’t easy. Several times she had to stop because she was too overcome by her emotions to continue.
‘What…what’s going to happen to Glen? Those other soldiers didn’t tell the truth, and it’s because of them—’
The colonel was standing up. ‘Thank you for your co-operation, Miss Philpott. My sergeant will see to it that you get a ride back home.’
As though by some sleight of hand, the office door opened and the sergeant was standing there waiting to escort her out.
Diane took a deep lungful of air. Walking past Chestnut Close’s allotment might not have had the same soothing effect as her favourite childhood walk through the Hertfordshire fields and then along the river bank, but at this time in the evening, when the air was still warm from the sun, there was just enough scent of the countryside in it to make her feel that if she closed her eyes she could almost be in the safe comfort of her childhood home. And she needed that comfort very badly at the moment. Apart from anything else, she doubted that she could have stood another minute of Myra’s boastful description of her weekend in London. But was it wise to give herself the opportunity to dwell on her own feelings? She paused to lean on the gate that led into the allotments. Beyond them a goods train, heavily laden, chuffed slowly towards the railing siding in Edge Hill, known locally as ‘the Grid Iron’, sending thick white clouds of steam up into the clear evening sky. They were well into August now, but thankfully it would be the end of October before the clocks went ‘back’, losing them extra hours of daylight saving light. The deprivations of living in a country at war were somehow all the more hard to bear in the winter months, with the darkness of the blackout at night and the shortage of fuel with which to keep warm. But maybe she should think forward to the winter. Maybe by then she would have found a way to deal with the heartache that was causing her so much misery now. She was doing the right thing, she knew that, but those who believed that ‘doing the right thing’ automatically outweighed the pain of not being with the ‘wrong’ person had no idea at all of how it really felt. Her whole body ached with the most desperate longing for Lee. Even her skin yearned rebelliously for his touch, whilst her heart did a series of victory rolls at the mere thought of seeing him.
Why should she consider his wife, when the future was so very uncertain? Would she really miss those few, to Diane, precious days that might be all they could have together? Would her life be any the worse for Diane having had a small handful of moments to call her own? She need never know, and so could hardly miss them, whereas Diane would have them to cherish for as long as she lived, a precious gift, wrapped away like fading rose-scented love letters and locked in the most secret compartment of her heart. The Group Captain might have given her a direct warning that her and Major Saunders’ relationship was already under scrutiny but everyone knew that there were ways and means by which a determined couple could be together without their intimacy being betrayed.
She opened the gate and walked into the allotments, unwilling to return to the house and Myra’s unwanted company.
She was halfway along the narrow path that skirted round