An Unsuitable Mother. Sheelagh Kelly

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СКАЧАТЬ her shoulders were quickly turning pink. ‘Lord, you’re going to have to watch it with your delicate skin.’

      Raking her damp fringe from her brow, Nell puffed out her cheeks and fanned her face. ‘Yes, I should’ve brought a hat.’

      ‘Allow me!’ said Billy, and, reaching to his pile of clothes, he pulled out his forage cap and stuck it on her head at a jaunty angle. ‘There you are, Mrs Kelly! How do you like that titfer?’

      The recipient looked proud at first, but then she sniggered and covered her mouth. ‘Nelly Kelly – won’t Mother be delighted!’

      And they found themselves laughing gleefully again, as Billy exhorted, ‘Come on, let’s go for a dip!’ And, ignoring their audience, they ran yelling into the ice-cold sea.

      * * *

      By the end of an exceptionally fine day, which was to include an abandoned spell of jitterbugging on the dance floor, whilst Billy’s olive skin was to assume an attractive shade of tan, Nell found herself crimson. She had won a photographic award as the girl with the most sunburned back on the beach, but it didn’t feel much of a privilege now. Even a hastily purchased pot of cold cream failed to ease the fire, and by bedtime she was radiating such heat that her lover could not get near without causing dis comfort – hardly conducive to unrestrained passion. All the same, she vowed that there was no way this would prevent her from being in Billy’s arms for their final night together.

      Afterwards, reluctant to go to sleep, draped only in a sheet, for Nell’s burnt skin could bear nothing more, they lay with the curtains apart and their bodies lit by the moon, loath to miss any expression on the other’s face, holding hands and murmuring into the night.

      ‘I’m dreading leaving you,’ Billy voiced his mixed feelings, gently playing with her fingers throughout, ‘but I’m rather glad to have this chance to see my old mum’s all right.’

      Nell softly agreed. ‘You must be worried, and she about you.’

      ‘Yeah, her little baby,’ he grinned.

      Nell smiled too, knowing that he was the youngest, almost twenty years younger than his eldest sibling. ‘I’m more worried in case they send you back to Europe.’

      His tanned body heaved a sigh. ‘Well, they’ll send us sometime, that’s for certain. I’ll almost be glad in a way …’

      ‘Oh, Billy, don’t say that!’ She knew a little of what he had been through, for in their quieter moments she had coaxed it from him: how he hadn’t known where he was going or what was happening, had just done what he was told and gone where he was sent, only to end up on a beach with thousands of his comrades, their backs to the sea; there to wait for days under murderous fire until the rescue boats came; and even more days whilst others boarded ahead of him, forced to watch them sail for England, whilst in the meantime he lost everything – his comrades, his rifle, his equipment, half his uniform, and all personal possessions, even a little china ornament for his mum. As the brave boats had continued to come, he had waded out until the sea lapped his chest, only to wade ashore again when there was no more room aboard; and when his wrung-out carcass was eventually hauled onto a craft and given the tastiest jam sandwich and the best mug of tea he had ever consumed, this was promptly interrupted by a dive-bomber, forcing him once more over the side to swim for his life …

      At her first cry of anguish, Billy had lifted his head from the pillow. ‘No, I mean, if I have to fight ’em, I’d rather it be over there than on our own doorstep – oh, I don’t know what I mean, Nelly, it’s hard to explain …’ Allowing his tousled head to fall back, he hesitated for long moments, before proceeding to admit his shame over the benighted inhabitants of Belgium and France. ‘Those poor bloody wretches, thinking we’d come to save them – well, we thought we had too,’ he interjected a bitter laugh, ‘lapped it up, I did, being thought of as a conquering hero, taking souvenirs off the girls – none of them as pretty as you, mind,’ he added quickly.

      Secure in his love for her, Nell showed this with her smile.

      ‘Didn’t think we’d be running for our lives with our tails between our legs,’ added Billy, picking absently at the sheet that draped them, ‘and leaving the poor blighters to their fate.’

      ‘But you gave of your best, you’ve no need to be ashamed!’ Nell felt tears prick her eyes. Hating that raw anguish, she tried to stroke it away, her hand upon his cheek.

      He turned to meet her gaze for a second, love and pity in his eyes, before averting it to the ceiling. For how could he tell her the real story? That it had been every man for himself. That he had stepped over dead and dying comrades in his haste to escape the blazing hell of Dunkirk. How could he violate such innocence of mind? How could he share with this tender-hearted young thing the sights he had seen: of men’s limbs blown to fleshy rags, of their screaming pleas to be put down; how he had clamped his hands over his ears to try and block out their piteous cries of ‘Mother’ as they died; how he’d frantically dashed their blood and brains and bone from his uniform, as if that would erase the intense humiliation he felt as a soldier, as a man. The ceiling became a battlefield, the whole of it ablaze, he could taste again the smoke, his lungs choking with it, his ears filled with the terrifying shriek of the Stukkas and the hellish shrieks of men, his heart and body leaden with exhaustion and overwhelming loss …

      All he could murmur now was, ‘You’ve no idea how powerless I felt, Nelly. No idea, and I pray with all my heart you never do, my darlin’. Never.’

      Her fingers encased in a grip of steel, Nell tried to ease them out so that she might comfort him, making Billy suddenly aware that he was hurting her.

      ‘Oh, sorry!’ He was immediately attentive, yet his face remained etched with atrocious memories.

      ‘No, no … I’m not hurt.’ And with her hand freed, she was able to stroke him tenderly, trying to impart that she understood, that she loved him more than any other person on earth.

      Forgetting her burnt skin, a distraught Billy reacted by hugging her so tightly she could scarcely breathe. Then, just as quickly, he apologised again. ‘I just love you so much, you make everything better …’

      The minutes leaked away, their voices becoming drowsier. Gripped by an awful premonition that she would never see him again, that these were the last moments they would ever share, Nell refused even now to look away, for that would propel her towards the sleep she was trying so hard to fight.

      Even after Billy had gradually succumbed, her eyes remained on his dear face, allowing every detail to be imprinted on her memory, gazing, listening to his breath, feeling it on her cheek …

      She had fallen asleep after all. Her head felt like a ball of fire, and her eyelids were stuck together, but the blinding sun which pierced them told that it was morning. She turned away from the source in discomfort, but could not escape the punishing light that streamed in through the window, and so lay there for a second, rubbing her eyes and attempting to prise them fully open.

      Then, feeling the heat of Billy close by, she roused him gently with a kiss, privately wincing under his instinctive caress, for her face was still as a beacon in contrast to the white linen pillowcase. Yet, they made love again, for it need not be said that this might be their last opportunity for a very long time.

      ‘How long do we have?’ she later enquired softly, cherishing every second.

      Bill lifted an arm to grope on the bedside table. ‘Oh, bloody Nora, me СКАЧАТЬ