Cousins at War Read online

  ‘I was angry before, but I’ve had time to think, and . . . other things have happened that made me . . . well, I do care about you, like a sister . . . and just be careful, that’s all.’

  She could not grasp what he was trying to say, but one phrase had dashed all her hopes. ‘Like a sister.’ He thought of her as a sister! He didn’t love her. He had never loved her. She kept walking mechanically, wishing miserably that she was dead.

  The stony silence was not what Neil had expected and he felt out of his depth. He had thought that she would deny what she had done with the other boy, and had planned to make her admit it and to warn her of the risks she was running, but because she had said nothing, he began to doubt Olive’s story. He ought to have questioned her about it when he saw her . . . better yet, he should have done the decent thing and asked Queenie herself if it was true. It was too late for that, so he just said, ‘I’m really sorry for what I thought.’

  Giving a little sniff, she whispered, ‘What did you think?’

  He avoided the question. ‘I wish I . . .’

  Her eyes were swimming with tears when she looked up at him. ‘Will you tell me something, Neil?’

  ‘Anything.’

  ‘Did Olive say something bad about me? Is that why . . .?’

  He hesitated. What good would it do to tell her? She might go and have it out with Olive and she would likely be more hurt. ‘No, Olive had nothing to do with it. I was wrong to think what I did, but let it go at that, Queenie, please.’

  ‘You’re in love with Freda, aren’t you?’

  ‘Is it that obvious?’

  She smiled, wistfully. ‘Yes, it is.’ There was something she still had to find out, however. ‘Did you never love me?’

  Her pleading face tightened a screw in his heart. He had been a proper heel to her and she deserved an honest answer. ‘I did love you, Queenie, very much, but I got it into my head somehow or other that you loved somebody else, then I met Freda.’

  ‘I know . . . so it’s all over.’

  He opened the door for her when they reached their tenement, but grasped her arm when she put her foot on the first tread of the stairs. ‘I hope there’s no ill feeling, Queenie?’

  ‘None.’

  ‘Show me, then. I do still care for you, you know, more than I should. I wouldn’t want to kiss my sister, would I?’

  ‘Oh, Neil,’ she sighed.

  He knew he was mad, he knew that it was unfair to her, but he couldn’t help himself. ‘You’ll always have a part of my heart,’ he murmured. It was true, he reflected, as their lips met. She was his first love and he would never forget her.

  He made no attempt to stop her when she pulled away from him. ‘That’s the last time, Neil, the very last,’ she whispered, ‘so don’t ever ask me out again, because I just couldn’t bear it.’ Turning blindly, she ran up the stairs.

  Unravelling an old jumper to get wool for knitting blankets, Gracie looked up in alarm when Queenie burst into the house and went straight to her bedroom. A moment later, Neil looked round the kitchen door. ‘Goodnight, Mum,’ was all he said, before he too went to his room. Perplexed, Gracie went to tell Joe. ‘I’m nearly sure Queenie was crying when she came in, and Neil was a bit upset, as well. I hope they haven’t quarrelled again . . .’

  Breaking off, she thought for a moment, then went on, ‘Surely he wouldn’t have tried anything with her?’

  ‘God, woman,’ Joe exclaimed, ‘the things you come up with. One minute you’re saying he’s in love with Freda, and the next minute you’re thinking he’s . . .’

  ‘No,’ she interrupted, ‘he wouldn’t do a thing like that, but maybe he’s told her he loves Freda and that’s what’s upset her so much. She’ll get over it, though, and it’s the best thing that could happen, when all’s said and done.’

  Joe cast his eyes to the roof. ‘You change your mind oftener than I change my socks. Now are you coming to bed?’

  Having arranged the date with Olive the previous day, Neil took her to the Regent, although he hadn’t felt like going out with her at all. The main feature was a musical he’d have enjoyed if his mind hadn’t kept turning to Queenie. He bitterly regretted what had happened, she had been quite happy until he came out with that sermon. She hadn’t understood what he was trying to say, for he hadn’t accused her outright, thank goodness, but he must have set her puzzling. Nothing had gone as he had planned; it had escalated into him telling her things he hadn’t meant to tell her, but it had taught him a lesson and he’d steer clear of anything personal when he took Olive home, he wouldn’t even tax her with telling lies. It was over and done with.

  After standing for the national anthem when the show ended, they made their way out and had turned the corner at Holburn Junction when Olive said, ‘You haven’t said much tonight, Neil. Are your legs bothering you?’

  ‘There’s nothing wrong with me or my legs,’ he snarled, then felt ashamed. She had only asked out of sympathy. ‘I’m sorry I snapped. I’m not very good company sometimes.’

  She smiled. ‘That’s understandable. Don’t worry about it.’

  They carried on slowly – partly because of his gammy leg, but mainly because it was such a beautiful evening – and were in Albyn Place before Olive observed, ‘I love strolling along here, maybe it’s the the peace and tranquillity, but it makes me feel good, especially when you’re with me.’ Trailing her hand along the top of a hedge, she looked up at him coyly. ‘Do you think of me at all when you’re in Alnwick, or does Freda take your mind off everything else?’

  Damn her, Neil thought. Was she being nasty or was she just being her usual sarcastic self? He would give her the benefit of the doubt. ‘Freda doesn’t try to take my mind off anything.’

  The softening of his voice told Olive all she wanted to know. He was either in love, or about to fall in love, and she’d have to do something to stop it. He hadn’t known Freda very long, so the affair couldn’t have gone far yet, and with any luck she could do something to make sure that it didn’t go much farther.

  When they came within sight of her house, she said casually, ‘Will we be going out again before you go back?’

  ‘I don’t think I’d better. My right leg seizes up when I’ve to sit for three hours at a time. I’m not as fit as I thought I was and I took Queenie to the Capitol last night, as well.’

  Not by one flicker of a face muscle did Olive reveal how she felt about this. ‘Thanks for tonight anyway, and remember, if you feel up to it, you’ll be welcome at the Den any time.’

  ‘I’ll see how I feel. Goodnight.’ He held out his hand.

  Things were looking bad, Olive mused, as Neil limped off. She had thought she had cooked Queenie’s goose for good, but he was still taking her out and now there was this new protagonist to contend with, an unknown quantity. Freda was the real danger.

  Feeling particularly down one afternoon, Gracie decided to pay a visit to her sister and was disappointed that Hetty was not alone. She had forgotten that Olive, like Queenie, would still be on holiday, so they wouldn’t be able to speak freely.

  ‘Neil looked quite well when we saw him,’ Hetty smiled. ‘Have you heard from him since he went back?’

  Olive tried not to show her interest. She hadn’t heard from him, but maybe his mother had. Gracie nodded. ‘Just the one letter, and he’s still getting on fine. He says his leg’s very tired by the end of a day, but when he went back to the hospital for his check up, they said the exercise should help it.’

  ‘He was lucky to get off with a broken leg,’ Hetty observed. ‘He took Olive to the cinema, since he couldn’t dance.’

  ‘He took Queenie to the pictures, as well.’ Gracie felt she had to wipe the smug smile off her niece’s face. ‘He once said he went out with dozens of girls and I wasn’t bothered, for I thought he wasn’t serious about any of them, but I’m beginning to have doubts about that now.’

  ‘Do you think he’s fallen for one of his girls at last?’


  They were both astonished when Olive burst out, ‘If you think he’s fallen for that Freda, he hasn’t.’

  Her scarlet face and the passion in her eyes made Hetty frown but Gracie said, very quietly, ‘Don’t be so sure about that.’

  The girl jumped up and ran out, slamming the door behind her, and Hetty and Gracie looked at each other in dismay. Hetty was angry at her daughter for showing how she felt about Neil, and Gracie was angry at Neil for apparently dallying with his two cousins’ affections. She was also worried in case he had gone a lot further than that with Queenie. . . and maybe with Olive, too, but she couldn’t say that to Hetty.

  When Gracie told Joe what had happened, he laughed, as usual. ‘So Olive’s still hankering after Neil? You’d think she’d have got the message by this time.’

  ‘She wouldn’t get the message supposing he told her to go to hell and never come back!’

  ‘I can’t see what she can do if he doesn’t want her.’

  ‘You don’t know her like I do.’ Gracie stopped, there was no point in trying to explain. ‘Joe, I’m sure Neil likes Freda and it doesn’t take much for liking to develop into love, and love to develop into passion. He could end up having to marry her, and forced marriages never really work.’

  Catching her husband’s look of exasperation, she changed her tune before he could say anything. ‘I just want him to be happy and I won’t try to stop him if he wants to marry Freda. For one thing, it would put an end to Olive’s nonsense.’

  Chapter Fifteen

  Neil’s feelings for Freda had already developed beyond love; mere kisses were no longer enough, yet every time he was on the brink of unleashing his passion, his conscience held him back. She was so innocent and pure that he couldn’t give in to the temptation, not until she gave him some sign that his advances would be welcome.

  They had been keeping company – all it really amounted to – for three months when Freda remarked, ‘One of my friends is getting married next week.’

  ‘Oh, yes?’ Neil hoped that she wasn’t suggesting that they do the same – he wasn’t thinking of being tied down yet.

  ‘I can’t understand her. She was a nice girl, but she let her fellow . . . you know . . . and her father made him marry her.’

  ‘How did her father know he had . . . you know?’

  Freda coloured, in spite of his broad teasing grin. ‘It . . . it was beginning to show.’

  ‘You mean she’s pregnant? What’s so awful about that? Even nice girls make mistakes.’

  ‘I’d never make a mistake like that. I’d never let any . . .’

  ‘It’s all in the luck of the draw. Some girls fall at the first fence, as you might say, and others get away with it.’ The subject was making Neil’s needs grow, and he hoped that he could convince Freda that she would be in no danger if she allowed him to do what her friend’s ‘fellow’ had done.

  ‘But they shouldn’t be doing anything like that if they’re not married! It’s not nice.’

  Neil couldn’t help laughing. ‘On the contrary, my darling, it’s very nice indeed.’

  She looked horrified. ‘Have you . . .?’

  ‘Lots of times, but not since I met you.’

  ‘Did you love any of the girls?’

  ‘No, it was just a bit of fun, for them and me both.’

  ‘Did you make any of them pregnant?’ Her tone was harsh.

  ‘No, I knew what to do. Look, I’ll show you.’ He put his hand in his pocket and took out the small, flat envelope he had been carrying, hopefully, for weeks but she recoiled in distaste. ‘Put it away. You’re filthy, Neil Ferris!’

  A tiny seed of misgiving entered his mind, but he ploughed on. ‘I’m a man, that’s all. Like I said, those other girls were just a bit of fun, but I love you, and when two people love each other, it’s natural for them to . . .’

  ‘But it’s wrong when they’re not married.’

  ‘It’s not wrong. Oh, Freda, please let me . . . I swear on my honour that nothing can happen.’

  ‘If you’re going to be like this,’ she said, icily, ‘don’t bother asking me out again.’

  He fought back the urge to grab her, to force her down on the ground, but there would be no pleasure in it for either of them if she wasn’t willing. He had offended her sense of propriety, but there were other nights, and he would work up to it in future, use all the tricks he knew that kindled a girl’s desires, and soon she would be offering herself to him . . . begging for it.

  Things had not been going smoothly for Olive during the day and she went home in a vile humour, ready to lose her temper at the slightest criticism. Fortunately, Hetty spiked her guns by saying, ‘I put Neil’s letter on the mantelpiece. It came second post, but you haven’t been home since breakf –’

  ‘About time.’ Olive picked up the letter and took it up to her bedroom to read, her eyes lighting up at the first three words.

  My dear Olive,

  Sorry I haven’t written sooner, but you know how it is. I always mean to answer your letters, but I never get round to it. I hope you are still working hard at the varsity, the psychiatry sounds quite interesting, but I wouldn’t fancy it myself. I’ve been thinking tonight about the old days and the picnics we used to go on when we were kids. I guess your psychiatrists would make something out of that but the truth is I was drinking with some of my mates, and beer makes me nostalgic.

  Have you heard from Raymond lately? I hope he’s not as bored as I am, for I’m fed up to my teeth some days and I wish they’d send us overseas. Still, it’s not long till my leave, the middle of December, though I’ll have to come back before Christmas, worse luck. I’ll close now, hoping you and your family are all well.

  Yours, Neil

  Olive’s depression had lifted several degrees now. Neil had admitted to thinking about her. Not in so many words, he was too shy, but if he had been remembering the old picnics, he must have been thinking about her too. And another hopeful point, there had been no mention of Freda. Had she just been a flash in the pan?

  Reading through the letter again, Olive devoured each word and lingered over the signature. ‘Yours, Neil.’ It was what she had longed for, it was as good as telling her he loved her. He was on the right lines at last and it would only be a matter of time before he would come right out and say it. Perhaps she should give him a little help, since he found it so difficult?

  22 November, 1942

  My dear Neil,

  Thank you for your very welcome letter. I hope your leg isn’t giving you too much trouble, I know it was bothering you the night we went to the Regent, so I wasn’t too hurt when you didn’t kiss me. I can’t stop thinking about you and I don’t need to tell you why, but I will anyway. Neil, my darling, I love you with all my heart. I always have and I always will.

  I’ll never forget how passionate you were on that oh so wonderful night, so I know you love me too, and if you’re too shy to tell me, why don’t you write it? I’ll be the happiest girl in the whole world if you do.

  I WILL LOVE YOU TILL THE DAY I DIE. If I can write it, so can you. All my love, Olive

  x x x x x x x x x x That’s twenty kisses,

  x x x x x x x x x x now we’re both twenty.

  ‘Oh, Jesus!’ Neil dropped the letter he was reading as if it had scorched his fingers.

  ‘Bad news?’ Alf looked up from his own letter, the weekly epistle his mother always sent.

  ‘The worst!’ His friend’s sympathetic face made Neil carry on quickly. ‘No, it’s not what you think, it’s Olive again. She’s getting out of hand, really she is.’

  ‘Don’t tell me she’s till pestering you? After me sinning my unsullied soul to make her think . . .?’

  ‘If you don’t believe me, read it!’

  Alf bent to pick the letter off the floor, skimmed through it and whistled. ‘Short and sweet, but it sounds as if you’d made love to her at some time.’

  ‘She’s the last bloody person I’d make love to. I did kiss
her once . . . maybe a bit too passionately, and she’s trying to make something of it. Her mother thought she wasn’t getting over what you did to her and asked me to take her out till she found another lad and I didn’t like to say no, but I’m damned sure she’s no intention of looking for anybody else. She wasn’t so bad for a while, but she’s off again. It looks like our little scheme didn’t work.’

  ‘Why don’t you take Freda home with you next time? You’ve been going steady with her for months now, haven’t you, and it would let Olive see you weren’t interested in her.’

  Alf jumped as Neil thumped his back. ‘That’s it! Good lad! You’ve saved my life.’

  ‘You should know by this time I’d do anything for a pal, even take over his cast-offs for a while. Now, will you give me peace to finish my mum’s letter?’

  Neil sat back. He’d been a damned fool telling Olive he’d been thinking about the old picnics, that’s what had set her off again, but he’d been down in the dumps with Freda being so cold to him. She was a little warmer now, though not warm enough, and, hopefully, if he got her away from her mother she might forget her fears. He really was serious about her. It was entirely different from how he’d felt about Queenie, though that had been love, too, an innocent love where he hadn’t had to keep fighting down his desires. Not that he hadn’t desired her, but the urge hadn’t been so powerful.

  Thinking about Queenie reminded him of the letter he had written when he thought he was being sent abroad. When he started going steady with Freda, he had put it in his kit-bag, in case he pulled it out of his pocket any time, and it might be a good idea to get rid of it altogether now. Making sure that Alf wasn’t looking, he rummaged through his things until he found it and smiled tenderly as he read it. He had meant every word at the time, and he still felt something for her, but he had Freda now. What would she think if she saw this? Grimacing, he stood up and went to the lavatory, where he put a match to the letter. It was safer not to have incriminating evidence lying about.