‘She was overjoyed.’
‘I would have been overjoyed . . . if I had been told. You knew I had already lost Arthur. How could you let me believe you had died too?’
The gust of wind swept between them, teasing their hair as it snaked around them, before dying away as suddenly as it had appeared.
‘If it became known that I was alive I would be up before the firing squad.’
‘You did not trust me to keep it a secret?’
‘No . . . yes . . . I couldn’t risk anyone knowing.’
‘You trusted your mother.’
‘Yes, but my mother is different.’
‘You told her because you loved and needed her, which can only mean that you did not love or need me.’ There, she had said it and it was out in the open.
‘I loved you a great deal.’
‘But not enough!’ she shouted. She took a deep breath and looked out to sea. She was letting her anger get the better of her and that was unfair. He had been unwell and she knew nothing of what it was like to fight at war. It must have been awful. She should be glad that Sam was still alive. Instead she was turning into a bitter shrew.
She tried to concentrate on the view. The last time she was here it had been a summer’s day, with a clear blue sky and a turquoise sea. Today the sky was heavy with cloud and had turned the sea to a dirty shade of grey.
‘Would you have asked me to marry you if we had not been at war?’
Sam did not answer immediately. Rose glanced at him.
‘I asked you because I wanted to,’ he muttered, shoving his hands in his pocket and hunching his shoulders against the wind.
‘Facing one’s own mortality has a way of making a person cling to normality.’
Sam came to stand by her. ‘I loved you and I meant it at the time . . . but you are right, when life is uncertain, doing something that makes us feel normal gives us hope.’
They fell silent to watch a seagull fly low across the choppy water. It battled against the wind before lifting suddenly and flying away in the opposite direction.
‘I’m sorry, Rose. I should have told you I was alive. I was in a mess and by the time I felt better, I didn’t know how to come back to you . . . or if you would want me back.’
‘Nicholas said you were in a poor state.’
‘I was. Nicky is a good man and a good friend.’
‘Did you ask him to visit me at Christmas? To ensure I had the Christmas I always wanted?’
Sam nodded. ‘I did. I wanted you to be happy.’
‘Well he has played his part well on the run-up to Christmas, but he can stop now.’
Sam glanced at her. ‘You sound angry with him.’
‘Can you blame me? He did not tell me about you.’
‘It was not his secret to share.’
‘I thought his visits to celebrate Christmas were his idea.’
Sam bowed his head to look her in the eye. ‘Are you upset that they weren’t? It sounds like he did a better job than I would have done or you would not be so disappointed.’
Sam was right, Nicholas had done a good job . . . too good. How often had she found herself looking out of the window for him or counting the hours and minutes until he arrived? Despite knowing he would come, she still felt the jolt of excitement and surprise coursing through her veins when the bell chimed as he opened the door.
