Page 11 of Hearts of Resistance
1943
Rose stood at the window and stared out. She’d always imagined coming back here with Peter when the war was over. Naively, she’d expected everything to return to normal – for her husband to return unscathed, for them to retire to their home near the coast at Brest so he could rest. And she’d also expected the fighting to be well and truly finished by now.
How wrong she’d been. She shook her head. His role as a soldier might have been over, but Peter had continued to fight, and his bravery and dedication to their country had ended up costing him his life.
Rose touched a hand to her stomach, the action alone making tears burn her eyes.Peter.She let them fall silently, wiping her cheek. When they’d met, at a party with friends, she’d not immediately noticed him. But when he’d insisted they all hear her opinion on the politics of the day, when every other man in the room had rolled his eyes at her, she’d known he was the man she’d one day marry. They’d spent the entire evening from that moment on talking about anything and everything, sipping wine and laughing, heads bent together. The very next day she’d found out that he was the millionaire businessman who’d been hosting the extravagant party they’d attended, and by midday she’d received the biggest bouquet of roses she’d ever seen in her life.
She smiled thinking of all the dates and gifts, all the ways he’d tried to win her heart. What he hadn’t seemed to understand was that she’d fallen for him because of the way he let her have a voice, the way he listened to her and liked the fact she held her own opinions about the world. That was what had made her love him.
And now here she was, pregnant with the child they’d desperately hoped for, but with Peter never to return home. She touched her wedding band with her thumb. It somehow gave her comfort knowing he’d placed that ring there and she’d never, ever taken it off.
Rose turned and almost expected to be standing in her kitchen in Paris. She could see the sparkling bench, the kettle boiling and Maria, her long-time maid, smiling and asking her if she wanted a cup of tea. Only here there was no Maria to keep her company. The kitchen was dark, the fire not set, the house cold. It had been a beautiful retreat for her and Peter, their beloved home on the coast, but without him, and without any help to set about dusting and cleaning and tending to the fire, it seemed forlorn.
But she needed to pull herself together. Her brother, Sebastian, was coming to stay with his wife the next day, and she didn’t want them feeling sorry for her. Rose touched her stomach once again, the only thing these days that seemed to comfort her. She gave herself one last moment to remember Peter, not wanting to forget his touch, his smell, his larger-than-life personality.
‘Darling, it’s time.’
Rose had been dreading those little words all morning, had been trying to pretend as if Peter was just leaving for work, that he wasn’t leaving heragain. It terrified her even more now than it had when he’d left in uniform while he’d served for the French Army.
‘I don’t know what I’ll do without you.’
He tucked his fingers under her chin and tilted her head up. ‘You’ll be fine. I won’t be so long. Besides, you need to hold the fort here for me – you’ll be too busy to worry.’
She smiled even though she felt like weeping. This was something he had to do, which meant it was useless making a big fuss. She kept herself together, as she always did, knowing there would be plenty of empty hours to cry and fret to herself once he was gone. She’d not slept a wink all night, and it was making her irrational.
‘I love you. More than you’ll ever know,’ she said, staring into the brightest blue eyes she’d ever seen. Those eyes were filled with tears and they made hers prickle right back, but she refused to let one fall. She wanted his lasting memory to be of her smile, not her sobs of emotion. He could be gone for weeks, maybe longer if something unexpected happened.
‘You’re certain you don’t want me to come down to the station?’ she asked. ‘I can be there with you until the very last moment.’
He shook his head. ‘It’s only a business trip. You need to think of it as nothing more than me leaving for work. Besides, I want to remember you just like this,’ he said, kissing her and running a hand down her back. ‘In a silk robe, just roused from bed and with your hair all tousled. That’s what got me home last time despite all odds – knowing this was waiting for me.’
She laughed. ‘It was a lovely last morning,’ she teased, running her hands down his lapels. He looked so handsome in his suit. ‘I’ll think of it every time I go to our bed.’
They’d made love, then sipped coffee and eaten breakfast together, before he’d bathed and dressed. If he hadn’t been about to leave, it would have been the perfect start to any day.
‘Stay safe,’ she murmured against his lips, knowing it wasn’t a promise he could keep but wanting to say it anyway.
‘You know I will.’
Peter waved to her and opened the door. She stood, motionless, and watched him as he left, as he blew her a kiss and shut the door behind him. Rose sank to her knees once he’d gone, sobs making her body heave, her shoulders shaking as she stifled the screams struggling to burst out. She clamped one hand to her mouth, her palm silencing her pain, the other pressed to the floor as she tried not to fall forward.
‘I love you,’ she whispered, even though he was long gone now. ‘I love you so much.’
They were words she’d spoken to him so many times, he knew them as deeply as she did herself. But still, she would have given anything to tell him one last time. To hold him just a few minutes longer. Because something felt wrong this time. He’d been so careful, so clever to go undetected until now, but she wasn’t sure how long his luck would last.
Rose slipped to the ground, sinking against the cool, hard tiles. This couldn’t be happening. He was supposed to stay safe. He was supposed to stay home. They were supposed to have their whole lives ahead of them. Why had she left Paris and thought it best to come here, alone?
She dropped her hands to her stomach and sobbed. He’d never even know that they had a child.
‘Rose?’
Rose heard Sebastian’s call and stared at herself in the mirror. She had her trademark red lipstick on, and her cheeks were ever so slightly rouged to disguise how hollow they were. She touched her hand to her hair as she studied her reflection, hoping she’d done enough to fool her guests into thinking that she was coping. When he called again she hurried down the hall to the front door. The moment she saw her handsome raven-haired brother standing there, she rushed into his arms, hugging him tight. She stood a moment, indulging in his warm embrace, before pulling back and turning to his wife, Charlotte.
‘It’s so good to see you,’ she said, hugging her sister-in-law with as much love as she’d shown her brother. ‘I’ve only been here two days and I’m like an old lady rattling around alone.’
Sebastian laughed. ‘You’re hardly an old lady.’ He brought their cases in and Rose led the way through into the drawing room. The fire was blazing, and she was pleased that the house looked so different to when she’d first arrived.
‘You’ve settled in?’ Charlotte asked.
