‘Barbara.’
‘Barbara – your fiancée? Oh yes, of course. I’ll write to her and tell her… tell her everything. What’s her last name?’
‘No… Barbara.’
Bobby frowned, and looked at Charlie. ‘What can he mean?’
‘I think I know,’ Charlie said quietly. ‘There is no Barbara, is there, King? There never was.’
A slight shake of the head.
‘Bobby,’ he whispered. ‘Always.’
She didn’t understand for a moment. Then she met Charlie’s eyes, and she did.
‘Oh, Ernie,’ she whispered. ‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.’
‘Be… happy,’ he rasped. ‘Live. For me.’
‘I’ll miss you.’ Bobby let out a weak laugh. ‘Every time I put on a pair of trousers, I’ll think of you. Every time I hear “The Lambeth Walk”. Every time I look at the baby.’
‘See you… later.’
‘Yes. Later.’ She held his hand to her cheek, feeling those oddly inhuman fingertips against her skin. ‘Goodbye, Ernie. Goodbye.’
Chapter 37
‘Are you sure you’re all right to come with me?’ Charlie asked for the hundredth time as he and Bobby stood on a platform at Skipton railway station two days later. Reg and Mary had come to see them off, and were watching them proudly. In fact, Reg had been so proud when his brother had told him he was to be awarded no less a gong than the DFC that Bobby had thought he might pop every button on his waistcoat.
She shook her head impatiently. ‘I told you I was. I don’t want to miss this, Charlie.’
‘Bob, you look all in. It isn’t too late for us to go home with Reggie and Mary. I’d rather keep you healthy than meet any number of kings.’
‘I’m only tired, that’s all. After losing Ernie and… and everything.’
Topsy had sent a note the day after Bobby had said her final farewell to the other man who loved her, letting her know that Ernie hadn’t survived the night. Bobby had been glad, for her friend’s sake, that he hadn’t lingered on in pain. Yes, she had been glad. And then she had cried and cried until she thought she might burst.
She couldn’t stop thinking about him. Ernie King, strong and brave and kind and alive, so, so alive, dying in a bed far from home with the whisper of a Dales springtime on his poor burnt fingertips. Ernie King, who had never again got to see the country he loved and the family he’d left behind. Just one more life extinguished by a war that had killed so many, but a life Bobby had prayed for every night.
Perhaps it was an indulgence, when so many had died, to grieve so deeply for one person. But grieve she must,all the same. She could have been Ernie’s wife, under other circumstances. If he hadn’t stepped aside for Charlie with that nobility and selflessness typical of the man, she might even now be wearing his ring.
And he had loved her, all this time. Had never stopped loving her. Yet it had only been on his deathbed that Bobby had realised how deep and unchanging his feelings had been. She wished she had known, before. She wished there was time for one final conversation.
But…see you later. Ernie’s last words came back to her as she blinked on a tear. Yes, she would see him later. One day, hopefully a long time in the future, she would see him again. And then… yes, then there would be time for conversation.
She hadn’t forgotten his other words either.Live for me. Ernie had lost his life, but she had hers. Currently she was the custodian of two lives: her own and the one growing inside her. The baby would be Ernie’s godchild, even if that relationship had never had the chance to be solemnised. That was why she was determined to go with Charlie to London, and make sure neither of them missed an opportunity that came along once in a lifetime.
Their train was due in five minutes. Mary stepped forward to say goodbye, giving Charlie a hug first.
‘Now be sure your uniform’s brushed before you go to the palace,’ she warned him. ‘I’ll not have it said any boy of mine was looking shabby for the king. And take a clean handkerchief, and don’t forget to stand up straight when they take your photograph. Oh, and the girls told me to remind you that you promised them some of the spice they like back from London.’
Charlie smiled. ‘All right, Mam, I won’t forget.’
‘And this is for you, Bobby,’ Mary said, handing her a box tied with string. ‘I made it special out of a bit of material I had off one of the WVS girls.’
‘What is it?’ Bobby asked.
Mary smiled. ‘Open it and see.’
