For All Our Tomorrows Read online

  ‘Shucks, that’s too bad! Here, let me give you a dime,’ and he tossed them a few coins.

  ‘You watch yer bleedin’ mouth, buster. Don’t you try throwing your weight about in here.’

  It was clear that the sailors were not amused and, worried about possible consequences, Chad quickly stepped forward. ‘Hey, take no notice of my buddy here, he’s a bit the worse for wear. Slow down, Barney. There’s a chippy round the corner, why don’t you get some decent food inside you to soak up the alcohol?’

  ‘Get the hell off of me. This gal turned you into a plaster saint, or what? Drink your damned beer and live a little, for Chrissake.’ And Barney gave him an almighty shove that sent Chad sprawling back against the bar.

  The barman was quick to intervene. ‘If there’s any trouble, you lot are out of here.’

  Chad slammed down his glass. ‘I’m off now. Like I say, I don’t want to keep Bette and her family waiting.’

  ‘Told her any more fairy stories lately about your big ole estate with the antebellum mansion?’

  ‘Ok, I made a big mistake there but you made things a million times worse with all that bragging about a string of restaurants. Shooting your mouth off, as usual. Dumbhead!’

  ‘Who you calling dumb?’ Barney roared back, his face turning ugly with anger.

  Chad flapped a hand, warning him to keep his voice down as the sailors and the barman continued to glower across at them. Stepping close, he spoke quietly, adopting gentle, calming tones. ‘Look, old buddy, this one is serious, right? So I don’t want it messed up by your bragging. You keep your big mouth shut. I’ll put things right in my own way, in my own time, when the moment’s right. You’ve done enough damage.’ So saying, he marched out the door.

  Barney strode after him, flinging himself down the steps and dragging Chad to a halt as soon as they reached the quay. ‘Whoa, that’s no way to talk to an old friend. I thought you and me were buddies. What’s mine is yours, what yours is . . .’

  ‘Naw. You’re not sharing my gal.’

  ‘You’ve been happy enough to take my leavings in the past, when I’m done with them. So now it’s my turn to take yours.’

  ‘No way. I already said, Bette is special.’

  ‘Only because you got there first. You have got there, I suppose?’

  Chad ignored the jibe but shook himself free and kept on walking. The sooner he got to their little beach and found Bette, the better. ‘I’ve had enough of listening to this crap. You’ve really got on my nerves lately with your damned practical jokes and clever quips. You never let up for a minute. Always showing off, bragging that you know best, that you always get the girl.’

  Barney shouted after him in his lazy drawl. ‘Well it’s true, I generally do. Never failed so far. So, has she opened her legs for you yet, chum, or not? Come on, own up. She sure would have if I’d been in charge. Maybe she has already, for all you know.’

  Without pausing to think of the wisdom of his action, Chad swung back and socked his best friend right in the jaw. Barney didn’t see it coming, didn’t even have time to duck as his knees buckled and he staggered backwards, nearly keeling over. Swearing profoundly, he launched himself at Chad, flooring him with a tackle which would have raised a roar of approval from his local football team, of which he was a star player. Having pinned him to the ground, Barney found a use for his fists while Chad did his utmost to counter the blows with several of his own.

  Within seconds, sailors and marines were pouring out of the pub, punching and kicking and generally joining in the fracas, glad of the excuse to express their jealous hatred of Yanks.

  And then out of nowhere came the sound of running feet.

  ‘Chad! Barney! What the hell are you doing? Have you gone mad? What are you fighting for?’

  Bette, tired of waiting in the dark loneliness of the little beach, had come looking for him. Now she desperately struggled to pull the pair apart. But when it looked as if she might get caught up in the blows herself, hands grabbed at her and dragged her out of the way.

  ‘Back off, Bette. This could be dangerous.’

  It was Hugh, who seemed to have emerged out of nowhere. Iris Logan was there too, and Dan Roskelly who always loved a fight, plus several others: Ethel Penhale, Isobel Wynne and Hamil Charke among them. And of course the ubiquitous Nora Snell, standing there in her old coat and hat, arms folded, greedily absorbing every detail so she could spread the tale far and wide. The whole dratted neighbourhood seemed to have turned out to watch.

  Ignoring them, Bette yelled at the two men. ’Stop it! Stop it this minute.’

  They paid not the slightest attention. Whatever had upset them, they were clearly not going to be pacified by the screams of any helpless female or a set of gawping townsfolk.

  ‘Let them fight it out,’ Hugh said. ‘Damned hooligans.’

  The battle raged on with admittedly more punches missing than actually connecting but violent enough for Bette to keep on begging them to stop, and others too were becoming concerned.

  There came the screech of brakes and police whistles, and the thud of boots on cobbles. The Snowdrops had arrived. Seconds later the punch-up was brought to an abrupt end and any hopes Bette had nursed of introducing Chad to her family, were rudely dashed. The battling twosome would be spending the night in the glasshouse instead.

  ‘And serves you right,’ she shouted after them, tears rolling down her cheeks. ‘Men!’

  ‘Did you see that fight?’ Hugh demanded of Sara, when he got back to The Ship. ‘I saved your stupid sister from being permanently injured although why she’d put herself in danger by getting involved in the first place with those louts, I cannot imagine. I hope I’ve made my point though. Can you see now what troublemakers these Yanks are? Grown men fighting over one hair-brained girl. Ridiculous. Makes one wonder what idiots we’ve got fighting on our side.’

  Sara had gone quite pale. ‘Is Bette all right? She wasn’t hurt?’

  ‘By a miracle, no she wasn’t.’

  ‘I thought Chad was supposed to be meeting Mam and Dad tonight?’

  ‘Clearly he felt the need for some Dutch courage first. Can’t say I blame him, with your mother.’

  ‘But how come you saw it all? What were you doing on the quay?’

  ‘Looking after your sister’s interests, obviously. I was the one who called in the MPs. Well, somebody had to,’ he said ,when he saw her shocked expression. ‘The situation was serious.’

  ‘I expect you’re right.’ Sara was reaching for her coat.

  ‘Where are you off to now? You can’t just run out on me, there’s work to be done.’

  ‘You don’t need me when you’ve got Iris to serve behind the bar. You won’t let me anywhere near.’

  ‘But there’s the cleaning to be done, we need more pickled onions, and we’re running out of pasties.’

  ‘They’ll have to wait. I need to see for myself that Bette is all right.’ She almost ran out of the door. Hugh charged after her.

  ‘Sara, come back here this minute, this minute I say. Sara, are you listening to me?’

  Sara evidently wasn’t. She didn’t even stop to apologise for her disobedience. People in the street turned to see who Hugh Marrack was shouting at, and when they saw Sara hurrying away up Lostwithiel Street, smiled quietly to themselves.

  ‘Maybe the worm has turned at last,’ wondered Nora Snell, watching events from her little flat window overlooking the square.

  Chapter Thirteen

  ‘Are you all right?’ Sara found her sister back at the salon, seated in one of the chairs beneath a hair dryer, sobbing her heart out.

  ‘They’ve arrested him. What will they do to him? Will they send him to jail, or transfer him to some other unit? Oh, lord, I couldn’t bear it if they did.’

  Sara put her arms about Bette and rocked her gently. ‘Come on, love, pull yourself together. I’m sure it’s not the first time this sort of thing has happened. All men get drunk now and then.’
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  ‘He wasn’t drunk, I swear it. He wouldn’t. He promised me. If he was, it would be that Barney who put him up to it. That man is so full of himself.’

  ‘I thought you quite liked Barney? Isn’t he the good looking one you said you might try out next time?’

  ‘He’s all right, I suppose, but I don’t feel the same way about him as I do about my Chad.’

  ‘My Chad is it now? Well, they apparently showed those cocky sailors a thing or two about American type football tackles.’ Sara was smiling, trying to persuade her sister to see the funny side, but Bette wasn’t in the mood.

  ‘Chad is special. He’s gentle and kind, and fun to be with. I really like him, Sara.’

  ‘I can see that. And he makes you happy?’

  Bette’s eyes suddenly shone. ‘Oh, yes, he makes me very happy. I think I’m falling in love with him. Would that be very terrible?’

  Sara hugged her tight. ‘Why should it be?’

  ‘Mam doesn’t like him, and this business won’t help. She’ll be furious. She’d taken such trouble, made a cake specially.’

  Sighing, Sara pulled a face. ‘Then I’d better come home with you. You might be in need of someone to act as referee.’

  Hugh was furious. He stormed back inside and slammed shut the pub door, swearing profoundly. Fortunately, the place was still deserted, it not quite being opening time. Iris looked up with a half smile, having been thoroughly entertained by the entire performance. She sidled over to him and smoothed a hand over his chest, fiddling with one of the buttons on his waistcoat with her long, painted fingernails. ‘Has she guessed you were with me on the quay, do you think?’

  ‘Of course not, but we’ll have to be more careful in future. She’s not entirely stupid.’

  Iris twiddled some more with the button. ‘There’s still half an hour before opening. Plenty of time to get rid of all that surplus energy.’

  Hugh had only to look at her to be filled with lust. Maybe it was the lushness of her breasts, clearly visible above the low-cut blouse she wore; the pout of her full, pink lips; the provocative swing of her walk; or simply the way she had of looking at him that made him feel as if he were the only man in the world who was important. He’d never experienced anything like this in his life before.

  He’d thought himself fortunate to win Sara but this was entirely different. This was nothing like the clean, honest adoration that he felt for his wife. There were things Iris was prepared to do, and let him do to her, that he wouldn’t dream of trying with Sara. He quailed at even mentioning such matters to her. But with Iris he could say and do what he liked.

  He grabbed hold of her and pushed her into the stock room where he had her French knickers off within seconds and was inside her in a flash, thumping into her as hard as he could. Not that she objected. On the contrary, Iris was game for anything. Sometimes, as now, she gave a little startled cry as he first entered her, but mainly she just giggled and always egged him on for more.

  ‘You can have me again later, if you want,’ she said, on a breathless little gasp after he’d expelled himself and all of his anger into her. ‘We could meet on your boat and - talk - some more. There’s a little scheme I want to put to you.’

  ‘I’m not sure if that’s a good idea. Someone might see us. Your place is better.’

  ‘Don’t be silly. Deaf, blind and dumb they are round here. We’ve been seeing each other for weeks now, and who’s noticed? Not a bleeding soul. Too wrapped up in worrying about whether the butcher has any sausages.’

  He was wanting her again right now, even as she smoothed her stockings and adjusted her suspenders, pulling her skirt high as she did so to reveal a tantalising length of pale thigh. God, what risks wouldn’t he take to be with her?

  But would he risk his marriage, Sara, his unblemished reputation?

  He didn’t care to say, not right at this moment. What he did know was that he wanted to drag her down to the floor and ravish her all over again among the beer slops.

  Hugh half glanced at his watch and sadly admitted that there simply wasn’t time. Customers were probably even now lining up at the door. He swiftly buttoned up his trousers and straightened his tie.

  ‘What little scheme is this, that you want to talk to me about then? Tell me now, quickly, before Sara gets back.’

  Iris tapped his nose with the tip of one pink nail. ‘Not now. Later. It’s a very sensitive subject. Anyway, you’ve managed to give her the slip so far. One more night won’t make any difference, will it? And I’ll make it worth your while.’

  Iris sat in the cramped quarters of Hugh’s small boat and explained in a quiet, firm voice, quite different from the flirtatious one she used with the Yanks in the bar, how he could be of use to his country.

  ‘Airmen and POWs get trapped behind enemy lines and need to be shipped back to Britain, and agents selected for operations overseas are taken out undercover of darkness in small boats such as yours to rendezvous with the French fishing fleet.’

  Hugh was astounded, bemused. His mind fixed on stripping her naked and having her just as many times as he could manage, was not in the mood for a lecture on warfare. ‘Hold it, I’m not taking this in. What on earth are you talking about?’

  Iris continued as if he had not interrupted. ‘The folk of Cornwall are experts at secret operations at sea. In the past there have always been innocent-looking boats slipping in and out of quiet creeks and estuaries, brandy and silks being brought ashore right under the noses of the customs men. So why not follow the same routine, only this time with people. It happens all the time.’

  ‘What does?’ She seemed to be changing before his eyes, no longer the empty-headed, luscious Iris he knew at all, but a coldly calculating operator.

  ‘We take them out and when they’ve done their intelligence work, we bring them back. We also ship out people used for sabotage and disruption in German-held territory, and get people out in a hurry, if needs be.’

  ‘What the hell is all this? What are you saying?’

  ‘That you’ve been chosen as a possible candidate for seeing these men make their rendezvous. The Free French operate from creeks further down the coast, there’s no need for you to know exactly where, but it would demand some coastal runs, or short trips out to sea to meet up with the fleet. A boat such as yours can do that quite easily, so long as you’re careful.’

  Not for a moment had he ever imagined her like this. Hugh was completely taken aback by this new side to Iris Logan. Yet he found himself flattered that he should be selected for such an important mission, entranced by the whole idea.

  His work with the lifeboat and the coast guard was genuine enough but nothing like so dangerous as an operation of this nature. He had, in any case, often exaggerated the risks in order to justify his avoidance of call-up and of course in recent weeks he’d lied a good deal to Sara, making out he was on a call when really he’d been snuggled up with Iris in her little boat loft. This would not only give him even more opportunities to be alone with his young barmaid, but make him into a true hero and not simply an imagined one.

  ‘Who chose me?’ he wanted to know, preening himself a little.

  ‘I did. I was instructed to find a boat. Yours is sound, which is more than you can say for some, a decent size for sea journeys at twenty-four, twenty-six feet and you seem like the sort of chap who can be trusted. A man not afraid of taking risks.’

  Iris regarded him with a steady gaze, to give the impression that she meant more by this than his willingness to cheat on his wife. She’d chosen him because he was a man with weaknesses, and had made sure he was entirely besotted with her so that she was able to control him, before making an approach. When the true nature of her work finally emerged, she needed to be absolutely certain that Hugh wouldn’t back out, or spill the beans to someone he shouldn’t. ‘You’ll be told very little and be expected to obey orders. Can you do that?’

  Hugh nodded, excitement and fear warring for supremacy inside him.
‘How will they check me out? Will there be a test run?’

  ‘You might be called in for a little chat, just to look you over, but no test run. You are either in, or not, as the case may be. Well?’

  ‘I’m not sure.’

  ‘You should be honoured that they trust you enough to let me tell you all of this.’ She was already beginning to lose patience with him. The sex was good certainly, even imaginative, but in every other way she found Hugh Marrack slow and lazy and entirely selfish. Totally wrapped up in himself.

  She still had her sailor boy friend but mainly as cover, for when she needed an alibi for whatever reason.

  ‘Your boat will be requisitioned in any case, so either you are the one to operate it, or you’ll be expected to keep your nose out of it and your mouth shut about what’s been said tonight. That goes without saying. Your silence can be guaranteed - if necessary. But once you’ve joined our operation, then that’s it, there’s no going back. If you don’t come up to scratch, or you become a danger to other members in the operation, you’ll be eliminated.’

  ‘Eliminated?’

  This time Iris remained silent while he worked that one out for himself. Then she crossed her long legs and leaned back while she waited for his decision.

  Even in dungarees, far more suited to an open boat than the jumper and short skirt she usually wore, Hugh’s eyes were riveted upon the turn of a trim ankle, her shapely calves, the soft curve of her stomach, savouring the enticing knowledge that he was privy to the secrets hidden beneath the rough fabric.

  The thought brought a rush of blood to his head and a strange tightening in his chest. God, but he wanted her, and somehow the threat of danger made the sex all the more exciting. It would add extra zest to the proceedings. Besides, he could see the reports in the newspaper even now, once the war was over and all of this came out. Local hero saves countless lives. He cleared his throat and finally found his voice. ‘Right. I’m your man. When do we start?’

  ‘Right now, at least in about . . . ‘ Iris glanced at her watch . . .’an hour. Time for your reward first. Shall I take off the dungarees, or will you?’