Page 66 of The Last Kiss

After that, he had nowhere to go but home. Unless he went to the pub and drank away the last of the money he’d saved from his Highcliffe wages. God knew he hadn’t found more than a few days casual labour since he’d been back in town, and every penny of that had gone to Kitty for his board.

Avoiding the crowds and the cost of a bus ticket, he walked home to Bethnal Green. As he walked, he reminded himself that Ash was well and happy, and away from his bastard father. Those were all good things and in time Harry would miss him less. Hell, if he could endure four years of war, he could overcome the loss of Ashleigh Dalton.

Only, somehow the war hadn’t seemed so awful when he’d had Ash at his side. But without him… He remembered the gaping hole in his life after he’d first been demobbed, the cold despair of those foggy winter nights in London with no work or hope for the future, and felt that terrible blackness hover around him again, waiting to descend.

All too soon he was walking up Bethnal Road toward the house he shared with Kitty and the girls. Even here, people were celebrating, the Cat and Fiddle on the corner overflowing with patriotic pride. Or a facsimile of pride, at least. A kind of hysteria papering over grief. And beneath grief, anger. He saw it in the faces of young men skulking in the shadows, men who’d fought a bitter war and come home to a world too keen to forget.

Instinctively, he swerved toward the pub’s gaping door, but stopped himself at the last moment. Money aside, he’d be a sour drunk tonight. A dangerous one, too, liable to spill his heartache and endanger more than himself. No, he couldn’t risk that. With heavy steps, he passed the pub and made his way up the street to number six, the door to which, as usual, stood ajar. What wasn’t usual were the sounds coming from inside: Kitty’s laughter and the high excited giggle of little May. Most summer evenings the girls would be playing in the street and Kitty would be on the doorstep gossiping with her neighbours — especially this evening, he’d have thought, with the feel of occasion in the air. Nevertheless, it lifted his spirits to hear them laughing. Curious as to the cause of the hilarity, he pushed open the door. Kitty sat in her usual chair by the stove, the girls on the floor at her feet, and all of them gazing adoringly at the man sitting at the kitchen table.

Harry stopped dead.

“Hello, West,” Ash said as he stood up, beautiful and impossible in their shabby kitchen.

Harry tried to react like any other man would on finding his former commanding officer sitting in his kitchen, but he couldn’t help devouring the sight of him, cataloguing every tiny change. His hair was a little longer, falling forward over his forehead, his face thinner, shadows gathering under his eyes. He looked tired. And he was watching Harry with such unreasonable hope that it provoked him. Why the hell had he come?

“Mr Ashleigh’s been waiting over an hour,” Kitty scolded. “Where’ve you been?”

“That’s really quite all right.” Ash spoke with the air of a man repeating himself. “I’ve been quite well entertained by Miss May and Miss Dot and their marvellous singing.” The girls giggled. “And, besides, it’s my own fault for turning up uninvited.” He offered Harry a cautious smile and it slid like a blade between his ribs. But, oh, what a sweet pain to see that smile again. “My apologies, West. Perhaps I should have written first, but I had your address from Boyd and couldn’t — ” He cut himself off, smile fading into concern. “How are you?”

And what kind of question was that? How the bloody hell could he answer?I’m heartsick, lonely, living a life in ashes. “I, uh,” Harry said stiffly, “I should offer my congratulations.” He saw a flash of shock cross Ash’s face and felt an unworthy prickle of satisfaction. “I hope you and Mrs Dalton will be very happy, sir.”

“Thank you.” Colour fled from his cheeks, the fingers gripping his cane turning white. “H-How did you know?”

“Saw it in the paper.”

“Ah.” He cleared his throat. “It c-came as a… a surprise, I imagine.”

Harry couldn’t reply, and into the screaming silence Kitty said, “Were you recently married, sir?”

“This Thursday last, in Lymington.”

“Thursday? Why, you’re still honeymooning.” She turned a penetrating gaze on Harry. “And to think, he’s come all this way to see you when he’s got a new bride waiting at home.”

“As I t-told you, Mrs Morgan, I owe your b-b-brother my life. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him.”

But you’re married,Harry wanted to yell. It’s not been a month since we parted, and you’re married.“Thank you, sir,” were the words he forced out instead. “That’s very kind of you, I’m sure. But, like Kitty says, you should probably be getting back to your wife.”

“No.” That was revealingly emphatic. Ash looked self-conscious but ploughed on regardless. “That is, I’d like to buy you a pint, West. In honour of the d-day.”

“The day?”

“Peace Day. The end of the war.”

Harry lifted a sceptical eyebrow; he well knew Ash’s opinion of all this triumphalist tosh. A flush touched Ash’s cheeks but he met Harry’s sceptical look with a silent plea. Let me explain.And Harry found he couldn’t deny the man anything, no matter the cost. “Aye, alright,” he said, though he knew Ash’s explanation would hurt like the devil. “If you like, sir.”

“I do like,” Ash said shortly. “And you can forget the ‘sir’.”

Harry met his gaze with a firm eye. “As you prefer, Mr Ashleigh.”

For a few pounding heartbeats, they watched each other, then Ash turned to Kitty with a tense smile. “My apologies, again, f-for intruding, Mrs Morgan. And thank you for the tea.”

“No apologies needed, Mr Ashleigh. Any friend of our Harry is welcome here.”

Ash only smiled in answer to that. He must know, as Harry did, that Kitty would think very differently if she knew the truth of their friendship.

“Come on then,” Harry said, keen to get it over with. Ash picked up his hat from the kitchen table and followed him outside, cane tapping on the flagstones, Kitty and the girls trailing them to the door.

Outside, the long summer evening was turning cool beneath crouching clouds, the air sullen with the scent of coming rain. But Ash’s smile was sunny as he tipped his hat to Kitty and the girls in farewell. It only made Harry’s heart race harder, like a rabbit fleeing a fox. Because he knew he and Ash shouldn’t be alone together. Truth was, Harry ached for him down to his bones and, married or not, he wasn’t sure he could keep from reaching for him if given the opportunity. In desperation, he started toward the end of the street at a sharp clip. “Cat and Fiddle’s this way.” There’d be safety in a crowd.

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