The Beekeeper's War, page 30
Eventually, Jack turned to face her and she followed his gaze as he looked from the sofa to a chair by the window, obviously trying to decide which one he should sit on.
Pru patted the cushion next to her. ‘Sit here, Jack.’
A pained expression crossed his face and she wasn’t sure why he wouldn’t just do as she asked. Then it dawned on her that if he sat next to her, his damaged right side would be closest to her and that maybe it bothered him. Without asking, she moved to the other side of the sofa and pulled her feet up under herself. ‘Please. Sit down.’
He did as she asked. They studied each other silently.
‘I’m not the same man you knew back in 1917,’ he said eventually.
He thought she wouldn’t love him? Was that what he was insinuating? She felt indignant that he thought she was so superficial as to let his scars change anything that might be between them.
‘And I’m not that naïve young girl. We’ve both been through a lot, Jack.’ She raised her hand to touch his right cheek but he grabbed her wrist before she managed to and lowered her arm.
‘Don’t do that.’
‘Does it hurt?’ She didn’t imagine that it would, not now that the scars were faded and old.
‘No.’
‘Then why not?’
He went to stand, but she took hold of his shirt and held on to it. ‘Don’t go, Jack.’ He stilled. ‘Talk to me. I need this, even if you don’t. I’ve waited over twenty years to speak to you again and I’m not letting you leave me without giving me some answers. What happened to you?’
‘What happened? So much…’
She listened as he told her about being captured and held with Corporal Falkner, who had been killed in front of him, and felt any residual anger at him dissipating completely as he spoke. How could anyone think straight after experiencing such horrors?
When he had finished, she took his hand in hers. ‘Jack, I need to bring Emma here to meet you. Properly. Are you happy for me to do that today?’
‘I’ve been waiting twenty-two years to meet my daughter, Pru. You can bring her as soon as you like.’
They stared at each other for a moment and then Jack put his arm around her and drew her to him. Pru rested her head against his chest and breathed in his scent, once so familiar to her. She hoped this wasn’t a dream because to wake up from this would be too cruel. ‘Jack?’ she whispered eventually.
‘Yes?’
‘I just needed to say your name,’ she admitted. ‘And to hear your voice again.’
He lowered his head and after a second’s hesitation pressed his lips against hers and kissed her. Pru went to kiss him back but thought of Peter and Emma and emotions she hadn’t expected rushed through her, overwhelming her.
‘I’m sorry, I can’t do this.’ She stood. ‘I … I need to think.’ She hated herself for causing him pain but needed to get away.
Forty
Pru
June 1940
Pru ran down the steps from the folly, kicked off her shoes and picked them up to run back to the house. She reached the woods and, unable to catch her breath, slumped down against the trunk of a pine tree. Bringing her knees up and wrapping her arms around them, she dropped her chin onto them and sobbed for all that she and Jack might have had.
Was this how it was going to be now? Was she going to feel guilty towards Peter? After all, it was his unexpected death that had brought her back here. That and the war, she reminded herself. If he was still alive, she would be with him in Jersey, not here having intimate moments with the man she had once loved most in the world.
She felt movement by her face and gave a start. Opening her eyes, Pru saw a handkerchief in front of her. She looked up and saw Sam, his face distraught.
‘Aunt Pru? Are you unwell?’
She shook her head and took the handkerchief from him. ‘Th-thank you.’ She wiped her eyes and blew her nose. ‘I must look wretched,’ she said, trying to sound less broken than she felt.
He crouched down next to her. ‘You look fine. Has something happened?’ He tensed. ‘It’s not Emma, is it?’
She lifted her hand. ‘No, Emma’s fine,’ she soothed, hating to think she had caused him to panic.
‘You’ve heard about the islands being bombed then.’
Bombed? Pru stared up at him horror-struck. ‘What do you mean? When?’
Sam cringed. ‘Damn. My father will kill me for frightening you like this.’
‘Never mind Monty, Sam. Tell me what’s happened.’
‘Jersey and Guernsey were bombed yesterday,’ he said apologetically. ‘I’m not sure about the other islands.’
‘Was anyone hurt? Killed?’ she asked, terrified to hear the answer and aware that if Jack hadn’t almost forced her to leave the island she could be one of the bombing victims. She shuddered.
‘Yes. I’m afraid so.’
She covered her face with her hands, trying to take in this shocking news.
‘Is it something I can help you with?’ Sam asked gently.
She shook her head. ‘It isn’t but thank you for asking.’ He was the sweetest boy. She looked up at him and wondered what would become of him. He was so young, so good and so brave. She prayed that he would be fine and wished he hadn’t chosen to become a pilot, like Jack. She couldn’t bear it if something happened to Sam too. ‘You’re a good boy, Sam.’
‘Would you like to go back to the house?’
‘I would.’
‘Have you eaten breakfast yet?’
‘Not yet.’
She didn’t feel hungry and the last thing she wanted was to sit calmly in the dining room and force herself to eat anything, but she realised he wasn’t sure what to do and, not wanting him to worry, she agreed to go inside with him. ‘I think I’ve had enough fresh air for the morning.’
He didn’t smile as she had hoped he would and Pru could see he was still anxious for her. ‘I’m fine, Sam. I just needed a moment outside, that’s all.’ He didn’t need to know about her encounter with Jack. She wished now that she hadn’t been so quick to run off and had given herself time to calm down before doing so. After all, she did have a lot to thank him for, bringing her here as he had.
Sam held out his arm and Pru took it and rose to her feet. She slipped her mucky feet into her shoes and smoothed down her skirt and ran her fingers through her hair, trying her best to look presentable before returning to the house.
‘You’ve been through a lot recently, Aunt Pru,’ he said. ‘I’m not surprised you’re feeling rather emotional. To be honest, I think most people are.’
She was happy to let him think her distress had been caused only by the German army invading the Channel Islands and her hurried evacuation, which, on reflection, she realised could have added to her upset.
They went inside to the dining room but before they got there she stopped at the bottom of the stairs. ‘I think I’d better go to my room to freshen up a bit,’ she said, needing to find Emma and speak to her about Jack.
She ran upstairs and quietly opened their bedroom door in case her daughter was still asleep.
‘Mum?’ Emma asked, buttoning up the front of her dress. She covered her mouth when she saw Pru’s face. ‘Whatever’s happened?’ She rushed over to Pru and steered her to the bed. ‘Here, you’d better sit down.’ She bent to take a better look at Pru, who wished she had thought to visit the bathroom first to splash some cold water onto her face.
‘I’m fine, love,’ Pru said, trying her best to reassure Emma. ‘Take a seat, will you? I have something I need to speak to you about.’ Emma looked terrified. ‘It’s fine,’ Pru soothed. ‘Nothing to worry about.’ That wasn’t quite true, she realised, but she didn’t want to upset Emma as she had already done Jack and then poor Sam.
‘Would you like me to fetch you a glass of water, Mum?’
‘No, sweetheart. I just want you to listen while I tell you everything I’ve been withholding from you, then you can ask me anything you like.’
Pru had no idea where to begin, but not wishing to waste any more time or worry Emma, she simply started from the beginning – from the moment she first met Captain Jack Garland. She was grateful to her daughter for sitting patiently and not saying a word as she listened to everything Pru had to share with her.
‘So, there you have it,’ Pru said finally. ‘I’m sorry I let you worry about me and that I never told you everything about Jack before, but as I said, your father made me promise not to say anything while he was alive.’
‘I know, Mum,’ Emma said, sighing heavily. ‘But why not tell me about Jack after Dad died?’
Pru closed her eyes tightly. She had thought she was doing the right thing at the time, but maybe she had been wrong? ‘I believed Jack was dead and I worried that telling you about your real father and not being able to give you any resolution about what had happened to him might be too much for you to cope with in your grief.’
‘I still can’t quite come to terms that my father is the beekeeper. It’s incredible.’
‘Incredible in a good way?’ Pru asked, narrowing her eyes and hoping that her daughter would say yes.
‘Yes.’ Emma shrugged. ‘I liked him. But when I met him, he was wearing that strange hat with the netting so I still don’t know what he looks like.’
Pru wanted to prepare her daughter. ‘When I knew him, he was very handsome.’ She smiled at the memory of the tall, handsome American pilot she had fallen head over heels in love with. ‘He’s still very handsome to me,’ she admitted. Resting a hand lightly on Emma’s knee, she added, ‘However, he is very scarred now on the right side of his face. He suffered horribly in the war.’
Emma’s face fell. ‘Poor man.’
‘It’s fine; you’ll forget about his face when you start speaking with him,’ she said, certain Emma would never hurt Jack by showing any shock when she did meet him properly.
Forty-One
Jack
June 1940
Jack watched Pru run off and wished he could go after her.
Buddy bounded into the room and nuzzled Jack’s leg. ‘Where’ve you been, boy? Out trying to catch poor rabbits again?’ He brushed dust from Buddy’s black fur. Getting a dog was the one stipulation Monty had insisted upon when agreeing to let Jack live in the folly, and Buddy was that first dog’s grandson. Jack and his dogs had been perfectly happy on the estate over the years with few people to bother them, his only visitors Monty and Sam – when he was younger and home from boarding school – coming to the walled garden to watch as he worked on his hives or harvested the honeycombs.
His dogs and his bees. If anyone would have told him when he was younger how much enjoyment he would have from his years as an apiarist, he would have thought them delusional. But he knew that his bees had saved him from himself and from the depression brought on by losing Pru and then the trauma of his final time in captivity.
Seeing Pru that time he had travelled to Jersey, and how she had made a new life for herself, one that didn’t include him, he had wanted his world to end. And it had, in a way.
If only he had managed to escape a few months earlier, he thought, still haunted by the timing of his return. He would have been the one to marry her and bring up their child. Jack closed his eyes miserably; their lives would have been so different.
It was all his fault.
Jack sighed. Pru. She was still the most beautiful girl he had ever laid eyes on and he knew that he still loved her with all his heart. He shouldn’t have tried to kiss her, and he wished now that he hadn’t. He would have to take things one step at a time, but he needed her to know he had been serious about marrying her back in 1917 before everything went pear-shaped.
Jack decided he needed to go to the house to speak to Pru and Emma.
Forty-Two
Pru
June 1940
‘Good morning, ladies,’ Monty said as Pru accompanied a silent Emma into the dining room. ‘Please sit wherever you wish.’
Pru realised Sam was watching her intently and managed a brief, tight smile in his direction.
‘Did you both sleep well?’ Sam asked, as if he hadn’t witnessed her sobbing earlier. Pru was grateful to him for his discretion and returned his smile. She saw him look at Emma.
‘Yes, thank you,’ Emma said eventually.
Pru waited as she was served scrambled egg and bacon and then watched as Emma was given the same. Aware that Jean was watching her from one end of the table Pru tried to act as if she was fine. They were served cups of tea and she wondered how she was going to eat and drink anything, feeling as drained as she did.
She felt Emma’s cool, trembling hand on her own.
‘Are you all right, Pru?’ Jean asked, looking a little nervous, Pru thought. She understood why. They had seemed to make up when Jean was showing her around the manor and she suspected her friend was anxious that she had woken up feeling upset with her and Monty still.
‘I’m a little at sixes and sevens,’ she admitted. ‘I will be fine but so much has happened in the past few days that I think it’s going to take me longer to come to terms with it all than I imagined.’
Jean’s hand clutched at the neck of her blouse. ‘I presume you’ve spoken to Emma about everything?’
‘I have.’
Jean gave a tight smile. ‘I know this is all very unsettling for you but I promise you Monty persuaded Jack because he didn’t want you to feel conflicted, and, if I’m honest, neither did I.’ Jean looked past her and Pru assumed one of the footmen had entered the room with more food. ‘And Monty thought that if you saw Jack’s injuries, being a nurse and someone who was in love with him,’ Jean added, her voice tight, ‘he suspected you would feel torn and want to nurse him. Jack agreed that it wouldn’t be fair to put you in that terrible position. Isn’t that right, Jack?’
Pru stiffened. She hadn’t expected Jack to come to the house. Not yet, at least.
‘It is, Pru,’ he said, his voice quiet. Sam rose and pulled back a chair for him. She watched him as he walked around the table and sat next to Sam.
‘I hope you don’t mind me coming here now?’
Pru realised Jack was asking her and not her hosts. ‘It’s fine. I’ve told Emma everything so there’s no need to hold back.’ We may as well get everything out in the open, she thought, exhausted.
‘Thank you.’ His eyes moved and settled on Emma for a short while. ‘Hello again, Emma.’
‘Hello…’ She hesitated and Pru suspected Emma wasn’t sure how to address him. ‘Jack.’
Jack looked Pru in the eyes again. ‘Jean’s right,’ he said. ‘I’d seen for myself how happy you were. If you’d heard I was still alive and living here, would you have wanted to see me?’
She could hear the hope in his voice and knew she must be honest. ‘I … Yes,’ she admitted. ‘But only to know you were safe and well.’
‘Then I’m relieved you didn’t.’ He frowned. ‘As much as I would have wanted you to, I was broken both spiritually and physically. These scars on my face aren’t the only damage they did to me.’ He raised his hands for her to see the damage inflicted on them.
Pru winced and felt Emma stiffen. ‘I’m so sorry, Jack.’ She couldn’t bear to think how Providence had played such a cruel joke on them, for him to find her only when she was already married to Peter. ‘It could have all been so different,’ she whispered, desperate not to cry but unable to help herself. She felt as if she was mourning the future they had dreamt of – all over again. She felt Emma’s hand take hers. ‘I’m sorry darling. You know I loved your father, but…’
‘It’s fine, Mum,’ Emma soothed, one hand on Pru’s shoulder and the other on her arm.
‘Please don’t cry,’ Jack pleaded. ‘I never meant for this to happen.’
‘None of us did,’ Jean said, and Pru couldn’t miss the sadness in her friend’s voice.
‘Maybe it was meant to be,’ Jack said, although she couldn’t think why. ‘I’m fine now and you were married to a kind, decent man by the sound of things.’
Pru sniffed. ‘I was.’
‘And we’ve found each other now, haven’t we?’
Pru wasn’t sure what that might mean for them both but nodded. ‘We have.’
They all sat in silence until Emma spoke. ‘Mum, you haven’t touched your food.’
Pru wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. ‘I need a handkerchief.’ She sniffed.
Sam pulled one from his jacket pocket and reaching across the table, handed it to her. ‘Here you go, Aunty Pru.’
‘Thank you.’ She blew her nose and studied the sad expressions of those closest to her. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t mean to cry. I think I’m probably a little overwhelmed.’
Emma patted her arm. ‘Mum, you and Jack have over twenty years to catch up on. Maybe the two of you should go and talk privately without the rest of us present.’
Pru looked at her sensitive, thoughtful daughter and knew that whatever choices they had all made they were at least the best ones where Emma was concerned. The thought calmed her slightly.
Jack stood. ‘I think that’s a wonderful idea.’
‘Mum?’
‘You really don’t mind?’ Pru asked Emma guiltily. ‘We were supposed to be spending the weekend together.’
‘I’m fine, Mum. We can see each other every weekend from now on if that’s what we choose to do. This morning, though, you and Jack need to talk things through.’ She looked across the table at her father. ‘Isn’t that right, Jack?’
Pru watched him and saw the pride in his voice as he stared at the child he had fathered and still had to get to know. ‘I would like that very much,’ he said.
‘Then that’s what we’ll do,’ Pru said, standing, grateful for Emma’s understanding.
Jack walked round to her side of the table. Pru looked down at Emma. ‘I’ll see you later?’
