‘And who’s to say when Elijah will return? Moreover, he can’t just abdicate his duty as a soldier because of Isabella.’
Sarah tutted. ‘I’d never have imagined that you of all people would pass up the chance to do something of such importance, not to mention throw yourself into the adventure of it all. Don’t you want to prove to those absurd men out there who think we women are fit only for knitting balaclavas and scrubbing floors that we’re capable of a damned sight more?’
‘Don’t you think I would if I could?’
‘But darling, you can! Isabella is a baby; she doesn’t have a clue who you are. Leave her in the care of those who can do just as good a job as you, if not better. Then when the war is over, you can coo and fuss over her to your heart’s desire.’
Romily smiled. ‘God help any child you have, Sarah.’
‘Phooey! Best way to bring up a child is with a good dose of healthy neglect. It didn’t do either of us any harm, did it?’
Thinking of Jack’s family, and how they had suffered from being denied the two things they needed most as children – love and stability – Romily sipped her whisky thoughtfully, savouring its agreeably peaty taste. But as important as it was to her to do her duty by Jack’s family, the temptation of doing something new – something exciting and challenging – had its appeal.
Was Sarah right? Was she stagnating here? Could Hope manage the household without her? After all, she wouldn’t be alone; she would have Florence, Mrs Partridge, Mrs Bunch and now Lotte to rely on.
‘I can hear the cogs grinding inside your head,’ said Sarah. ‘You’re tempted, aren’t you? And don’t lie to me.’
‘Even if I was tempted, what about the next book I’m expected to start writing?’
‘Good God, surely I don’t have to remind you there’s a war on? If the Germans make it across the Channel, as they’re planning to do, reading will be the last thing any of us will be doing! You know the situation is dire right now, don’t you? Or have you lost sight of what’s going on beyond the parameters of your cosy life here?’
With emotion rising in her chest, her face reddening with outrage, Romily knocked back the last of her drink in one furious swallow. When she could trust herself to speak, she said, ‘I certainly have not lost sight of what’s going on. Far from it. But whereas you have no commitments to bind you, I have plenty. I’m needed here.’
A moment of quiet passed between them.
‘This isn’t you, darling,’ said Sarah finally. ‘Not the Romily Temple I know of old. The girl I know would have enlisted for war work at the first opportunity.’
‘And just what would people think if I hightailed off the way you want me to?’
Sarah turned sharply. The look of shock on her face was writ large. ‘Since when did you care what people thought of you?’ she said. ‘Oh my poor Romily, that I’ve lived to see this day! It really is time you left here, before it’s too late and you’re unrecognisable to me.’
Romily tutted. ‘Don’t be so dramatic, and if you’re trying to rile me, you’re doing an excellent job of it.’
‘But I know you, Romily. Okay, marriage, widowhood and domesticity might have changed you superficially, but none of that can change the essential nature of a person. I know you need more than this mundane existence is giving you.’ She extended a hand, the one holding her glass of whisky, to encompass the lily pond and the garden beyond, all of which was enchantingly bathed in silvery moonlight ‘Isn’t this worth fighting for?’ she demanded. ‘Or would you prefer to stay here and do nothing, and wait for some bloody Nazi in jackboots to wrench it from you? Do you think that’s what Jack would want you to do?’
After they’d gone inside to get ready for bed, Romily gave Isabella her midnight bottle of milk and wondered at what Sarah had said. She knew her friend’s comments were not designed to upset her but to make her think. Really think.
Was there a chance she had lost an essential part of her character in carrying out Jack’s wishes to unite his family? Was she no longer the same woman who had smuggled the Friedberg heirlooms back from Europe to keep them safe? Was that the last act of true courage she had accomplished? Had she allowed her grief for Jack to diminish her, letting it rob her of her innate self?
No! That wasn’t true. Not entirely. Admittedly, it had taken courage of a different sort to carry out Jack’s last wishes here at Island House, but that had not been without its challenges, and was continuing to throw up more almost on a daily basis.
But was this really how she saw the months and years ahead, simply taking each day as it came, dealing with the mundane? Had she become complacent with her lot, happy to let others shoulder the responsibility of keeping the country safe? Just a few hours ago, she had referred to her part in today’s act of atonement by Lady Fogg as being a good day’s work. The thought appalled her now. When there were those dying to safeguard Britain, could she really claim that saving Lady Fogg’s honour was some kind of achievement?
And what would Jack think of her settling for so little?
The baby’s bottle now empty, Romily placed it on the table beside her. After rubbing Isabella’s back to be sure there was no danger of her waking with wind, she put the contented and sleepy child back in her cot, her eyes already closed, then kissed her forehead and quietly left the room, closing the door after her.
Too restless to sleep, she went downstairs to make herself a hot drink. To her surprise, she found Sarah quite at home in the kitchen, dressed in the nightclothes Romily had loaned her, and standing at the stove heating a pan of milk.
‘There’s enough here for two small mugs of cocoa if you want,’ her friend said, as though she had been expecting Romily.
‘I hope it’s a guilty conscience that’s keeping you awake,’ remarked Romily, reaching into the cupboard for another mug.
‘Certainly not. I’ve never suffered with one of those before and I’m not about to start now.’
Romily watched Sarah pour the milk and took the proffered mug. They sat at the kitchen table. ‘Actually,’ said Sarah, ‘and since I have you on your own again, there’s another matter I want to discuss with you.’
‘Oh yes?’
