Page 7 of Hearts of Resistance
If her blood could have boiled, she was certain steam would have been coming out of her ears and nostrils by now.
‘Of course, we’re very proud of you for helping, too,’ his mother said, nodding in agreement with her son. ‘It wasn’t our intention to belittle you.’
No,she thought.It was your intention to belittle every woman who’s working to keep our country running!
Hazel took a deep breath and forced a smile.Remember your place,her mother would have cautioned her. ‘I shouldn’t have taken offence,’ she lied.
‘Hazel’s been working long hours,’ her mother said, suddenly nodding so rapidly she looked as though her head was in danger of falling off. ‘Another reason women aren’t built for men’s work!’
John chuckled and she suddenly, vividly remembered what it had been like before the war, when their romance had blossomed. Back then it had been all about stolen kisses and long summer nights with friends, going for a walk after dinner and feeling as if her heart would burst. Before the war, he’d been fun and carefree. Or perhaps they’d just been young, with hardly a care in the world.
‘You should leave your window open tonight,’ John had said one evening, his whisper grazing her skin. ‘Perhaps I could sneak in after dark.’
Hazel had grasped his hand, equal parts horrified and excited. ‘John!’ she’d scolded. ‘If Mother caught us she’d never let you near me again!’
‘Come here, then,’ he’d murmured, tugging her behind an oak tree, hidden from sight for a few moments until their friends caught them up.
‘John...,’ she’d started to protest, but his fingertips were so soft against her cheek, his lips even softer.
‘You’re so beautiful,’ he’d whispered, before kissing her, brushing his lips against hers and stroking her lower back.
‘Hey!’ One of her friends found them and Hazel jumped back, but not before catching John’s eye, smiling at him as he winked at her and backed away.
She’d thought nothing would ever change things between them, not even the war.
Hazel blinked when she heard her name mentioned, no longer listening properly. She was well aware that her opinion didn’t seem to matter, except to her father, who at least feigned interest and didn’t treat her like a hopeless woman. When everyone had laughed earlier, her father had given her a wink that made her proud she’d at least tried to have a voice. The John she’d carried on with and naively imagined a perfect little future with probably would have rolled his eyes and winked, too. Which was why she was so confused about the feelings she was having about him, about whether she’d made a dreadful mistake in agreeing to marry him.
‘Would you all mind terribly if Hazel and I took a moment to walk around the garden?’ John asked.
Hazel blushed and stood as their parents tittered away, then took John’s hand and followed him out when he nudged her. He infuriated her sometimes, and often when she wrote him letters she felt as though she was corresponding with a stranger, but holding his hand felt nice, soothed her worries somewhat. They’d been courting for almost nine months before she’d waved him off to war, and this was only the second time she’d seen him since then.
He squeezed her hand and smiled down at her, unleashing butterflies in her stomach. When they were outside, out of sight and earshot, he took her other hand and pulled her gently towards him.
‘I’ve been wanting to do this for hours,’ he said, bending to kiss her.
John’s lips were warm against hers, moving slowly, gently, in a sweet kiss that sent goose pimples down her spine and reminded her of those memories she’d held on to for so long. His words had infuriated her, but his touch did the exact opposite.
He pulled away, wrapping his arms around her instead and kissing the top of her head. ‘How much longer do we have?’ she whispered. It was the first time they’d been truly alone together, the first time she’d been able to touch him freely, and it had taken only a moment to remind her why she’d fallen for him so quickly in the first place.
‘I leave the day after tomorrow,’ he said, sighing and stroking her hair. ‘For God only knows how much longer.’
They were silent then, and Hazel couldn’t help but think how much he’d changed. The man she’d said goodbye to had been desperate to serve, excited about what lay ahead, but she could tell he had no desire to return, not this time.
‘Do you ever think about the day you left?’ she asked, her voice a low whisper.
He nodded. ‘Often.’
She sighed and leaned into him, breathing in his scent, feeling his strong, warm chest against her cheek. ‘I was so upset that you were going before you’d been called up. Back then I was more concerned about missing our wedding date than the war.’
He chuckled. ‘And I was so desperate to fight. If only I’d known what I was going into, I’d have stayed home and married you.’ John kissed her forehead. ‘I’d have been better off waiting until I was called up.’
She looked up into his dark brown eyes and was warmed by the steadiness of his gaze. She’d often wondered how different things might be if they’d simply brought their wedding forward. Perhaps she might have even had John’s child by now. But at the time, it had seemed logical to wait – she’d been young and they’d been engaged only a short time after all.
She still loved John, but her expectations had changed. She’d been brought up to expect a comfortable life as a wife and mother, and now she was relishing the independence and responsibility that came with her work. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be married, but she no longer felt that being a housewife was all she aspired to be.
‘What are you thinking about?’ he asked, holding her at arm’s length.
She smiled up at him. ‘I wondered that day if I’d ever see you again. It’s almost a surprise to have you standing here.’
