When the nurse had gone, Miss Romily removed her coat and gloves and rolled her eyes. ‘Goodness, she’s a bit of a tartar, that one, isn’t she? What does she think we’re about to do, have a wild party? Now then, how are you feeling, Florence?’
‘Foolish,’ she said. ‘I’ve put everyone to so much trouble.’
‘Nonsense my dear, we’re all only too delighted you’re going to be up and about before too long.’ She pulled out a cake tin from the basket she’d brought with her. ‘This is from Mrs Partridge, she thought some cake would be the answer to getting you back on your feet. I’m inclined to agree with her. Everyone else sends their love, including Stanley. But I have to tell you, if you’re thinking of making this a habit, throwing yourself in the path of oncoming vehicles, I’d rather you stopped as of now.’
‘I promise twice is enough,’ Florence said with a small smile.
‘I’m very pleased to hear it, and I want you to know that you’re not to worry about a thing – you too, Billy. In your absence, Mrs Partridge and I will take the best of care of Florence.’
‘I appreciate that, Mrs Devereux-Temple. I really do. Flo means the world to me.’ Billy pushed the cuff back on his battledress sleeve and glanced at his watch. ‘I have to report for duty in the next two hours, so I should get going. I’d give anything to stay.’
‘In that case, I’ll step outside and let you two say your goodbyes.’
Florence watched Miss Romily go, and despite her earlier brave words, she suddenly felt overwhelmed with sadness. This was no ordinary parting; Billy was a trained soldier now, ready to be sent somewhere dangerous where his life would be put at risk.
Perched on the edge of the bed, he rested his hands lightly on Florence’s shoulders and stared deeply into her eyes. She tried to be cheerful, to make it easier for him. ‘Billy Minton,’ she said, ‘you be sure to stay out of trouble. Do you hear me?’
‘The same goes for you. No more crossing roads without looking.’
She blinked. ‘I love you so much it hurts.’
‘That’ll be your broken ribs,’ he said with a tight smile. ‘And since you owe me a wedding night, you can be damned sure I’ll be home quick as a flash to claim my prize.’
She was crying when Miss Romily came back, and kept on crying even when she held her close. ‘There, there, you cry all you want, you’ll feel better for it.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ Florence snivelled when finally she could speak. ‘I keep thinking of what that wretched gypsy said about finding love and losing it. What if it comes true with my Billy?’
‘Hush! That was all a lot of twaddle; you’re not to think about it ever again. What I want you to concentrate on is making a full recovery.’
Her lips quivering again with the threat of more tears, Florence swallowed. ‘You’re so good to me,’ she murmured. ‘You always have been, and I really don’t deserve it.’
Miss Romily tutted. ‘Tommyrot, you deserve all the happiness and kindness the world has to offer. Now,’ she said more briskly, ‘is there anything I can do for you?’
‘Yes, take me home, please.’
Chapter Forty-Eight
Four days later, with a sudden drop in temperature and bitterly cold winds sweeping in across East Anglia from the North Sea, snow began to fall.
It was not much more than a fine dusting when Romily set off for the hospital after lunch to fetch Florence home, but by the time they were driving back, they found themselves caught up in a blizzard with visibility down to just a few yards.
Twice now Romily had almost lost sight of the road and come close to skidding off into a ditch. A competent driver behind the wheel of a racing car, she had no fear of extreme conditions, but in this instance, with Florence in the passenger seat next to her, she was taking no chances and was keeping her speed low in Jack’s Bentley. She also kept her eye on the petrol gauge, knowing there was no hope of being allowed to purchase any more fuel until next month.
They’d covered less than a mile, crawling along at a snail’s pace, when Florence said, ‘I haven’t apologised for putting you to so much trouble.’
‘What trouble is that precisely?’
‘Managing without me, what with Annelise and Stanley. I’m sure I could have come home sooner.’
‘If you had, I would banished you to your room to rest.’ Romily turned to glance at Florence, sensing there was something the girl wasn’t saying. ‘What’s really bothering you?’ she asked. ‘And don’t deny there’s something on your mind; I’ve known you long enough to know when you’re hiding something.’
A few moments passed before Florence answered her. ‘I feel such an idiot,’ she said quietly, ‘spoiling my wedding day by imagining that I’d seen my mother. What was it you called it when I asked you about the fortune-teller, about hearing what we want to hear?’
‘Autosuggestion,’ said Romily.
‘Yes, that was it. I suppose I stupidly wanted my mother to be there to see me marry Billy, so I imagined her in the market square.’
‘There’s nothing stupid in that, Florence. I felt much the same way when I married Jack. I would have loved for my parents to be there, to know that finally I’d found a man with whom I wanted to spend the rest of my life. You see, my mother and father had the happiest of marriages, and so I know it would have pleased them greatly to see me equally happy.’
