Chapter 6

"Home the conquering heroes come!"

Dorothy was standing at the kitchen door with her hands on her hips, smiling, as the three of them returned, pink from fresh air and exercise.

"I'm sorry, did we keep you waiting?" James clasped Dorothy in a firm embrace, and kissed her with exaggerated passion, sweeping her off her feet as he did so,

"Put me down, you fool!" But she smiled fondly at him and put her hand up to brush his hair off his forehead.

"I just wanted to introduce Tilly to my boys."

"Oho," said James, turning to Tilly with a broad wink. "You'd better go or nobody will have a moment's peace until you do."

"Boys?" Tilly raised her eyebrows questioningly at Johnny.

"Sorry. Forgot to tell you. My mother seems to be running some kind of convalescent home."

He took her by the arm and marched along with her in Dorothy's wake.

"I'll come along, too. I'm intrigued."

The three of them went off together to the other side of the house, leaving James shaking his head in mock sorrow behind them.

Dorothy had dedicated half the ground floor to her 'boys.' They turned out to be wounded soldiers, convalescing before being returned home or to their units. They were sitting, sprawled around, in a big open sitting room, some reading, some playing cards; one rather earnest-looking pair huddled over a chess board in one corner.

They didn't look like there was very much wrong with them. One or two were wearing bandages. One had dreadful burn scars on one side of his face, but whatever was wrong with the rest of them was hidden under their clothes.

"Good afternoon, boys," Dorothy announced as she strolled into the room and they all looked up. Most of them were smiling. They seemed to be a cheerful bunch.

"This is my son, Johnny, I told you about." Dorothy turned and indicated Johnny.

"What ho, chaps!" said Johnny, giving a small bow.

"And his fiancée, Matilda."

"Tilly," Tilly whispered urgently.

"Sorry. Tilly."

There was a spattering of applause and one bright spark said, "And a right smasher she is too, if you don't mind me saying so. You're a lucky man, Mr Thompson."

Tilly blushed to the roots of her hair as Johnny took her arm more firmly in his.

"Don't I know it," he said, tipping an imaginary hat in the direction of the speaker. "And she's spoken for, don't forget."

There was general laughter at this.

"They're all forces, wounded in action," Dorothy said. "All convalescent. Nobody needs constant medical care, just a bit of R and R. The doctor comes up once a day just to check that everything's all right. But really, all I have to do is feed them and see to the laundry."

"And a bloody good job she does, too," said Tilly's admirer, rubbing his stomach with a look of satisfaction on his face. "I warn you, Dorothy, not one of us wants to go home. You'll have to carry us out screaming, Right, lads?"

He looked round the room where many of the chaps were nodding in agreement. One pale-haired boy, who looked far too young to have been on active service, nodded so vigorously that it seemed his head was in danger of falling off. "I've never had food as good as this in my life, Miss," he said earnestly.

Dorothy smiled happily. "Nice to know you're appreciated. Now," she went on, "this is the dormitory."

She led the way into another room, nearly as large, which had presumably once been another sitting room, but now had a row of no-nonsense steel hospital beds arranged down opposite sides, each with a small cupboard and a chair.

"I must say, Mother," Johnny said, "This is all very impressive. Where did you get the beds?"

"Oh, the MOD or something," Dorothy said airily. "We volunteered to do what we could for the war effort. It's a good idea, you know, to volunteer before they commandeer you. Then you can choose what you do. And I must say, I haven't found this to be a chore at all. Such nice boys." She sighed. "I shall miss them when they've gone."

"I suppose I shall be a poor substitute." Johnny struck a tragic pose and his mother punched him lightly on the arm.

"You'll do," she said. "Now, off you go and help your father with something. I want to talk to Tilly."

Tilly felt a thrill of sheer terror. This is it, she thought. This is where she'll tell me I'm not good enough for him.

"Why, Tilly, whatever's the matter? You've gone as white as a sheet. Sit down dear. Perhaps it was the exertion straight after lunch."

Tilly took a ragged breath and then launched into an apology. "I know. I know I'm not good enough for him. I know I can't be what you wanted for a daughter-in-law. He's your only son and ..." she gulped, "But I do love him, Dorothy. I know..."

Dorothy, who had been listening to this in growing amazement, cut her short. "You are exactly what we want. Don't be silly." she brought her face up close to Tilly's and looked at her searchingly. "Is that what you thought I wanted to talk about?"

Tilly nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

"Oh, you poor dear," Dorothy gathered Tilly into her arms and gave her a brief hug. "No, I wanted to talk about the wedding. James won't ask. He won't think it's important. And the idea wouldn't even cross Johnny's mind. But I wondered ..." Now it was Dorothy's turn to hesitate.

"Johnny told me what happened to your family. It must have been awful for you."

Tilly nodded again. She could feel the tears burning behind her eyes but she was not going to cry. Not in front of her future mother-in-law. Not on the very first day she'd met her.

"And we wondered ... well, I wondered ... whether you would consider letting us organise the wedding. You don't have to say now," she went on rapidly, as if to forestall an immediate refusal. "I'm sure you have aunts and cousins and so forth ... it's just, well, Johnny is our only chick, you know, And we've never had a daughter ... and ..."

She stopped.

Despite all her efforts, Tilly had begun to cry.

"I'm so sorry," she sobbed. "I can't help it. No, I have no-one. No-one at all. You are so kind to me."

And she began to weep in earnest.

Dorothy held her and stroked her hair and her back. "It's all right, Tilly," she said, "It's all right to cry. I cried every day when Johnny was away, and that was just for something that might happen."

And Tilly let it all go, all the grief and fear and pain of that loss.