The Light Over London(73)

She gave the slightest of nods.

“I think it’s time for another bottle,” said Reggie, breaking through the mood.

Paul threw his head back and laughed a little too loud, trying to show that the fight was nothing more than a lovers’ tiff. “Why not? How often does a man get married, anyway?”

Reggie snorted and waved for a waiter. “Gar?on!”

Louise sat back as the waiter hurried over, watching her new husband’s profile. They had their entire lives ahead of them, but she was no longer sure it was the life she’d imagined.



After the wedding breakfast, Louise and Paul retreated to the borrowed flat. She’d been prickly the entire way back, but when they crossed the threshold, he’d kissed her slow and deep, and her annoyance had diminished to a simmer. He’d made love to her, whispering all of the endearments she’d wanted to hear so badly from his lips over and over again.

But later that night, when they lay in bed, the blackout curtains drawn and his arm and leg thrown protectively over hers, the fight at their wedding breakfast came back to her.

“Paul,” she said as she stared up at the ceiling.

He lifted his head from the pillow. “What is it, darling?”

“We haven’t talked about what we’ll do when the war ends.”

He rolled over and scrubbed a hand over his eyes. “That’s because this bloody war seems to be going on forever.”

“I want to talk about it. It’ll give me something to hope for when things seem particularly difficult.”

He blew out a breath. “I won’t be going back to Cambridge.”

She turned to face him, propping her head on her elbow. “Why not?”

“Aviation is the future. No one is going to want to take trains and boats when planes are faster. You mark my words—there will be a boom, and I plan to be one of the commercial pilots at the forefront of it.”

“That’s exciting,” she said.

He traced the line of her jaw. “And what’s your heart’s desire, darling? A big house, a big car, a mink?”

She nudged him with her foot. “Be serious.”

“I am. I’ll drape you in diamonds and pearls.”

“And what would I do with them?” she asked.

“Wear them?”

“I’ve been thinking we could go to California. I could enroll at a university and get my degree. I’d like to study maths.”

He frowned. “Maths? And what would you do with that?”

“I could teach, do any number of things.”

The creases on his forehead deepened. “You want to work?”

“Well, yes,” she said.

His gaze fixed on the ceiling. “Louise, I think it’s time that you come to understand something. If I’m a pilot, I’m going to be traveling a great deal. You’ll need to be home, taking care of our children here. In England. It’s where my family is. It’s where your place will be.”

“But Paul—”

“No. This is not something that is up for argument. You’re my wife. Your role is to support me.”

A chill went through her. He was serious. Deadly serious. Had she walked from one person’s idea of how she should live her life straight into another’s?

“Now, we only have a few hours left before I have to report,” he said, rolling on top of her. “It’s time to make sure you remember me when I’m gone.”





19


CARA


“We should establish ground rules,” said Liam.

Cara turned her key in the ignition of her Vauxhall, the jangle of Granddad’s dog tags a comforting reminder of her childhood when Mum would get behind the wheel of the car and they’d go for a drive to a country pub, dog tags and keys clinking together merrily as they bumped along twisting single-lane roads.

“I’m sorry?” she asked.

“Passenger selects the music.”

She laughed. “Driver has veto privileges. We’re sharing six hours of driving. I’m not sure I can put up with it if I find out you have a secret love of ABBA.”

“ABBA is the greatest Swedish export since the Volvo,” Liam said.

“I should’ve known. Of all the professors in the world, this ABBA-loving one gets into my car.”

“Now you’re butchering lines from Casablanca. Don’t think I’ll stand for this for one moment.”

A fizz of excitement rippled through her as she put her little car into reverse and backed out of the drive. Everything had come together so quickly. Liam had no lectures on Fridays or Mondays, so it had just been a matter of her asking for two days around the weekend. Jock had been surprisingly good-natured about it when he found out the trip was connected to the diary. The Star Inn was happy to give her two rooms next to one another as the season began to slow in October. Then it had just been a matter of packing and taking care of their individual tasks. Cara had gone to Gran’s, armed with tea cakes, to explain that she would be away for a few days to meet Katherine Mathers, neé Keene. It had been tense at first, both of them on edge after her last visit, but Gran had perked up when she learned Liam would be traveling with Cara.

“But you’ve booked two rooms?” Gran had asked at least three times.