He stroked her cheek again and pulled her close.
‘Sorry.’
‘You’re something of a heroine.’
‘What?’
He smiled. ‘Otto is preparing the headline as we speak.Woman War Room Worker Delivers Baby in Bomb-blasted Shelter!’
‘Is the baby all right?’
‘As far as I know. Yes.’ He paused, looked suddenly serious, rubbed his nose. ‘Riva, you may not realise but you hit your head. You had blood all over it and you have stitches.’ He touched her forehead.
‘I didn’t feel a thing.’
‘It will be fine. But they want to keep an eye on you in case of concussion.’
She sighed. ‘Bloody hell. Bloody, bloody hell.’
The nurse brought her a mint tea. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘We’re out of biscuits but there’s a lump of sugar in the tea. Emergencies only.’
After she had sipped her tea and rested back against her pillow, Bobby said, ‘I do have some good news.’
‘Tell me.’
‘Four merchant ships and an oil tanker have reached us unscathed. This island is not going to starve, at least not yet.’
‘Oh, thank God. Thank God.’
‘Can I ask you something?’
She closed her eyes. ‘Of course.’
‘Riva, will you marry me?’
Her eyes flew open and she laughed, although it hurt her chest and throat. She felt jubilant, her heart dancing with triumph at having escaped death and now this. What a marvellous delicious moment to be alive.
‘Well?’
‘Are you crazy? You’re asking a concussed woman to marry you? I call that taking advantage.’
He gave her a tired smile and stroked her hand. ‘I’m serious. Do you need some time to think about it?’
‘You are an idiot, Beresford. I’ve had thirteen years to think about it.’
‘So?’
She gripped his hand and squeezed it. ‘Of course I’ll marry you. I would be honoured.’
And now Bobby was the one with tears filling his eyes.
‘You can’t cry in here,’ she said and grinned at him. ‘What if someone sees?’
‘To hell with that. The whole world can see for all I care. Can I hold you?’
‘I won’t break.’
And he held her as close as he dared without disturbing her stitches.
