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Geoffrey entered their bedroom and closed the door. ‘How do you feel?’ He was dressed in an open-necked shirt and dark trousers, and his hair was damp and slicked back. He sat on the edge of the bed, lifted her hand and kissed her palm. Folding her fingers over his kiss, he smiled. ‘Do you feel like a stroll along the river?’
Meg nodded. ‘I’ll have a quick wash first.’
Geoffrey reached for her peignoir, the soft peach silk, his wedding gift to her, and held it while she turned her back and slipped her arms through the sleeves. As she belted the sash, he held her shoulders and dropped a kiss on her neck.
Her shoulders hunched, his hands dropped, and he stepped away.
She turned quickly. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to— It’s just—’
One hand rose to stop her apology. Hurt flickered in his eyes, there and gone so quickly she almost wondered if she’d imagined it. But why wouldn’t he feel hurt when his wife of a few hours pulled away from his touch after they’d just been intimate?
But now his doctor face, the one he wore when talking with patients, gave nothing away. ‘I’ll be in the garden when you’re ready. Take your time, Margaret. There’s no rush.’ He left her in peace. A moment later, the screen door squeaked open and softly closed.
There’s no rush.
Guilt and grief crashed over her and clashed within her. He was a good man, and she was behaving as if he’d forced her into their marriage. If anything, it was she who was using him. His sense of honour had led him to repeat his offer when no other way of reclaiming her daughter could be found. In accepting him, she had made him a promise of a life together. A good life.
There and then, she vowed she would be a good wife to Geoffrey.
But how did she begin to do that while her daughter was lost to her?
##
Small, gold-tippedwaves caught the late afternoon sun and made the brown water almost pretty. Wash from a steamboat travelling towards the river mouth slapped against the bank in rhythmic waves below them. As they passed the power station and approached the park, Meg was still lost in thought. No matter what bad things happened in her life, the world kept turning. Life went on. Of late, she’d let it drag her along on the ride. She needed to take back control of her life and steer a better course. Starting now. Starting with this kind and good man who walked by her side.
So much had changed; now, she was a wife as well as a mother. Determined to do better, she took her new husband’s arm as they turned back into New Farm Park. ‘Geoffrey?’
‘What is it, my dear?’
‘Thank you – for everything. I will be a good wife to you. I didn’t mean to pull away when you touched me. It’s just that I’m—distracted.’
He was quiet for a moment as they stopped in the shade. ‘I understand. Wondering where your daughter is must consume your thoughts, but we will find her, Margaret.’
She smiled, feeling her cheeks quiver as she fought to hold it in place. ‘I believe you, but it’s so hard. All the time I was away from her, I thought – ‘this is tough, but it’s the right thing to do’. Then the war ended, and it was only going to be a few weeks, just a couple of months bringing home prisoners of war and the wounded, and that felt like the right thing to do too. I knew Jennifer was safe with Vera, and I knew I’d see her soon, but there were so many families who’d waited years for their loved ones to come home. How could I not help them to be reunited?’
‘And when you finally made it home, it was to a double loss.’
He drew her into a gentle embrace. It comforted her and she drew strength from him, and from his touch. It demanded nothing and gave so much.
‘I promise I’ll move heaven and earth to bring her home to you.’
She breathed in the clean soap smell of him and the lingering scent of his Old Spice aftershave. ‘I know.’
‘Tomorrow, we’ll visit the archbishop’s secretary and deliver our petition then call in and see if Roger has had any luck contacting the Catholic diocese. The mother superior’s refusal to hand over Jennifer’s adoption details is frustrating, but perhaps the convent is waiting for permission to hand over the information. Government bureaucracy grinds along slowly too.’
Meg nodded. ‘Time seems to go so slowly, but it feels so hard waiting to get my daughter back.’
Geoffrey glanced at his watch and tucked her arm in his. ‘It’s five-thirty. Let’s head back. Gerry will be home soon. After that wonderful lunch, the least we should do is have dinner ready for her when she comes in.’
