Chapter Twenty-Six #2
‘But I’d blame myself.’ Caroline bit her lip. ‘I can’t believe you’re willing for that to happen rather than stand up and fight.’
Grace groaned. A tear squeezed out from under her eyelid, running down one dark cheek.
‘You don’t understand … My whole world fell apart last time.
But it’s not just about me, love. It’s about you too.
I couldn’t protect my girlfriend, and I had to watch while she was hounded, while she had stones thrown at her, and there was nothing I could do about it.
I don’t want to see you hurt like that.’
‘Did you love her as much as you love me?’ Caroline whispered.
Grace sighed. ‘I thought I did. But I love you to bits, Caroline, and it feels more powerful than it was before.’
Caroline nodded, understanding. ‘Yes, Selina was everything to me. It broke my heart when she left. But then I met you …’ She smiled. ‘I love you more than I ever loved Selina, I see that now. Only, you say we can’t even act on it.’
Grace’s lips twitched. ‘Oh, we can act on it,’ she whispered. ‘We just can’t be caught, all right?’
After a last kiss, they headed back down to the farmhouse, strolling hand in hand until the first bend. Then, by mutual silent agreement, they let go and walked the rest of the way without touching.
Caroline hated the necessity for hiding their love. But Grace was right. She had declared her love to Selina and somehow escaped intact, never punished for the things she’d said so openly. Next time, she might not be so lucky.
A fortnight after Mrs Newton had been so thoroughly kissed in front of everybody in the village, she announced to the household that she and Bernard Bailey would be getting married in August, and invited them to toast their happiness with a glass of her home-made sloe wine.
It ended up being more than one glass, of course, and the evening turned raucous, and Grace jumped up and gave them a few songs.
‘A proper little songbird,’ Mrs Newton said admiringly, and Caroline couldn’t help feeling proud of her girlfriend, even if she had to keep it hidden.
Late the next day, her head hurting from too much sloe wine, Caroline was weeding tender young plants with the other girls when she heard a car horn.
‘Hello, someone’s pulled up in the farmyard,’ she said, frowning as she straightened up.
‘I didn’t know Violet was expecting visitors.
’ But as she shielded her eyes against the late-afternoon sunshine, squinting at the car, she froze in horror. ‘Oh no!’
Grace was beside her in an instant. ‘What’s the matter?’
‘My parents …’ Caroline’s stomach churned with fear.
She’d boldly walked out at Christmas after her parents had tried to tell her how to live her life.
But much of that had been bravado. Deep down, she was still apprehensive about defying them.
And now they’d driven all the way from London to Cornwall to see her. But whatever for?
Her father opened the back door of the car, and she was relieved to see her grandmother climb out, leaning on a stick and studying the farmyard with an interested eye. So Gran was well, at least.
‘I’d better find out what they want.’ Caroline took a deep breath, determined not to let them bully her into going home again.
Though she doubted they’d be impressed by her unfeminine appearance.
The sun had been beating down on her all day in the fields, and she was hot and sweaty, and probably covered in dirt too.
‘I’ll stay here and keep working.’ Grace took up her hoe again, a grim expression on her face that Caroline recognised. Grace was keen not to do anything that might jeopardise Caroline’s reputation, even if it meant saying nothing while she was dragged away. ‘It’ll be safer that way.’
‘Oh no, you don’t.’ Seizing the hoe from Grace’s hand, Caroline threw it unceremoniously to the dirt, then pulled her towards the farmhouse.
‘What are you doing? They’ll see us holding hands,’ Grace hissed, trying to pull free. But Caroline only tightened her grip, walking more quickly. ‘Have you lost your marbles? Look, it’s your dad … He’s coming this way. Please, Caroline, let me go.’
Caroline paid no attention. ‘Hello, Dad,’ she said coolly, and dragged Grace forward. Her mother and grandmother stared across the car bonnet at them both, eyes wide. ‘Hello, Mum. It’s good to see you looking so well again, Gran.’
‘It’s good to see you too, love,’ Gran said, smiling, though her curious gaze was on Grace. ‘And who’s this?’
‘This is my girlfriend,’ Caroline said firmly. ‘Grace Morgan from Liverpool. Grace, this is my mum and dad, and my gran.’
‘Your what?’ her mother said blankly.
Swallowing hard, Grace stuck her chin in the air.
‘How do you do, Mr Ponsby, Mrs Ponsby?’ Her voice wavered a little, but she kept smiling, her perfect teeth showing.
‘How do you do, Caroline’s gran? Very nice to meet you all.
It’s a hot day, isn’t it? Have you driven all the way here from London?
That’s hundreds of miles … You must be bleedin’ exhausted. ’
‘Caroline,’ her father began, frowning thunderously, ‘I don’t know if this is some sort of practical joke, but I’m not interested in speaking to you in front of this person.’
‘Then you won’t be speaking to me at all,’ Caroline told him.
He stiffened. ‘Now listen here—’
‘Just say whatever you’ve come to say, Dad, or go away again. Your choice. But she’s not leaving.’ Caroline folded her arms, while Grace stood uncertain, eyeing her family with trepidation.
‘Very well.’ Her father cleared his throat, his chin jutting.
‘Your mother and I have been discussing your future for some months now, and we’ve decided the only way forward is to take you back home where you belong.
Young Albert is willing to give things another go, and if you don’t like him, there are some very nice young men whose mothers attend our church.
You wouldn’t lack for invitations to parties or the cinema, and you certainly wouldn’t need a …
a girlfriend.’ He flicked a disgusted glance at Grace, then looked back at Caroline in direct entreaty.
‘Your mother and I just want to see you happy and settled now the war’s over, not still living halfway across the country from us, buried here in …
Well, the back of beyond.’ And he gazed about the mucky farmyard with disdain, frowning at the dusty hens pecking ever nearer his car.
Albert.
Caroline’s jaw clenched and she struggled not to be rude.
These were her parents, after all. But she felt quite incensed at their interference.
Had they learned nothing from her visit at Christmas?
Besides, she doubted that groper would ever be interested in another date with her. Not after she’d kicked him in the shin.
Grace made an odd choking noise, and everyone looked round at her in surprise, including Caroline.
‘Grace?’ she asked, staring. ‘Are you all right?’
‘Sorry,’ Grace muttered, a hand to her mouth, and then dissolved into helpless giggles. ‘Sorry, sorry. But it’s so funny, isn’t it?’
‘What exactly is funny about this situation, young lady?’ Caroline’s father demanded sternly.
‘Well, you, for starters, Mr Ponsby.’ Grace chuckled again. ‘Thinking you can turn up here and drag your daughter off by the hair like a bleedin’ Neanderthal.’
Caroline’s mum gasped. ‘Language, please!’
‘What, are you worried about my language, love?’ Grace addressed her directly, and Caroline’s mother shrank back, looking shocked.
‘To be honest, you should be worrying about your daughter. She’s your only child, is that right?
I’d be a bit more careful if I were you, unless you don’t mind never seeing her again.
Because that’s the next move in this little game, isn’t it?
Threaten to cut her off, make her scared to lose you …
Only she isn’t scared. Are you, Caroline? ’
‘No, I’m not scared,’ Caroline agreed defiantly. It felt good to have Grace backing her up.
‘So, the only question you really need to be asking is, do you want Caroline in your life? And if you do, you should stop badgering her. Because she’s a grown woman and it’s not your business who she dates.
It’s hers.’ Grace reached for her hand, entwining her fingers with Caroline’s.
‘And right now she wants to date me, not Albert,’ she ended in a mock-whisper.
Her dad said nothing but bent his head. Meanwhile, her mother gave a tiny sob, and knuckled a fist to her mouth, staring at them both.
Caroline bit her lip, not sure whether to laugh or cry. She peered at her gran, who was regarding Grace with approval. ‘Gran? What do you think?’
‘I think I wouldn’t mind a little sit-down in that nice farmhouse, if nobody minds,’ her grandmother murmured, and began to wander that way, leaning on her cane.
‘And maybe a cup of tea? It was an awful long journey, as your friend rightly says, and I’m …
what was the phrase she used? Bleedin’ exhausted. ’
After an awkward pause, Caroline’s parents trailed after her gran, disappearing inside the farmhouse, where no doubt a bewildered but polite Violet Postbridge would soon sort them out with a cuppa and maybe a slice of cake too.
Grace blurted out, ‘Sorry, Caroline, I couldn’t help myself.
Just listening to your dad going on and on …
’ She threw an unhappy glance over her shoulder.
‘Tilly must be wondering why on earth we’ve left her to do all the weeding on her own.
Shall I go back and help her, poor thing?
’ Grace squeezed her hand. ‘Have I made things worse for you?’
‘Don’t be daft,’ Caroline told her, close to tears.
‘You stood up for me, Grace. You took a risk … for me.’ Her smile was tremulous.
‘Nobody’s ever done that before. It was wonderful.
And terrifying.’ They both laughed. ‘I don’t think my parents are going to give me any more trouble.
But I really like Mr and Mrs Postbridge, and Mrs Newton, and I don’t want to upset them by being too open about us.
’ She disentangled her hand from Grace’s, but gently. ‘Is that all right?’
‘Oh, Caroline … It’s more than all right.’ Grace gave a slow smile that warmed her heart. ‘It’s love.’