Charlie smiled, and planted a kiss on the stomach filling out her nightdress.
‘You’re beautiful, you know, Bob,’ he said quietly. ‘Never more than now.’
Bobby laughed. ‘You must be joking. I feel like a half-inflated barrage balloon.’
‘Well, there’s a lot to be said for half-inflated barrage balloons.’ He glanced up. ‘I don’t want to harp on about it, but I wish you’d give up work. I hate to think you might make yourself or the baby ill.’
‘We need the money, Charlie.’
‘I’ll find a way to keep us from starving. It’s more important that you stay healthy.’
‘But I like working, and I’m sure it doesn’t do me any harm. I feel fine. A bit tired, but none the worse for that.’
‘Still, it’s a lot of stress on your body. How long do you think you can keep it up? It can only be a few more weeks.’
‘I know. But a few more weeks is five pounds, and five pounds buys a lot of terry towelling.’
‘I’d rather have a healthy wife and baby than five pounds. Stop worrying and let me take care of you.’
‘Did you hear back from the bank yet?’
Charlie lifted his head from her stomach.
‘I wish you wouldn’t pin any hopes on that,’ he said. ‘They probably won’t even bother writing to tell me it’s a no when it was as plain as the nose on my face. But I’ll find some way to make money.’
‘Selling your gigolo services to Mrs Barraclough next door?’
‘Now there’s an idea. I could make our fortune in no time.’ He paused. ‘I’ve decided though… you’re right, I ought to take that damned gong. I don’t feel good about it, but you and the baby matter more than my foolish principles.’
Bobby wasn’t sure what to say.
‘Oh,’ was all she could manage.
‘Aren’t you pleased? It’s what you wanted, isn’t it?’
‘Well, yes. I mean I thought you ought to take it, but… I wish you wanted to, Charlie. Not for my sake or the baby’s but your own. I wish I could make you understand how much you deserve it.’
He looked away. ‘Isn’t it enough that I’m accepting it?’
‘Not for me. I feel like I’ll want to swell half out of my frock when the king pins it on, but I won’t be able to if I know you’re only accepting it because you feel you have to.’
‘It’s the only way I can feel. I’m sorry, Bob.’
Bobby sighed. ‘All right. It’s your grief. It isn’t for me to tell you how you ought to feel it. I just wish you could be as proud of yourself as I am.’ She swung her legs out of bed. ‘Have you got everything you need?’
‘Yes, I’m all packed.’
‘Did you get your sandwiches from the pantry, and put pyjamas and clean underwear in your case?’
Charlie smiled. ‘Yes, Mother.’
‘And have you packed your wash things?’
‘I was an airman, you know. Packing’s one thing I ought to be good at.’
‘Well, but have you got the scarf and jumper I knitted you?’ Bobby persisted. ‘There might be an air raid. You’ll need to wrap up warm if you have to spend hours in a shelter.’
‘I’ve got plenty of layers, don’t worry. I’m only away for one night, Bobby.’
