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The Woman From Heartbreak House

 

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The Great War is over and Kate is ready to welcome back Eliot with open arms.  But her husband is a changed man.  Kate has become used to her independence, and to running the shoe factory, and Eliot's return creates tensions both at work and at home, particularly with Kate's son, Callum.

It tears Kate apart to see such strife between the two men she loves most.  And her sister-in-law seems determined to stir up the animosity in order to  benefit her own son.

But when tragedy strikes, Kate cannot imagine just how much trouble Lucy's ambition can cause . ..

The woman ran through the gathering crowds on to the station platform, the wind ruffling her red hair, slapping it across her face as she struggled to pin her hat in place.  People stepped out of her way with a smile, seeing how flustered she was.  She was not the first to appear thus on this particular morning, except that this woman seemed different from most, her slender body erect with pride, her bearing one of dignity and grace despite her anxiety.

She was regarding the train that stood puffing quietly at the platform with a mixture of outrage and defiance, as if it had no right to be there, and yet there was pain too, an agony in those soft grey eyes which made people turn away and pretend to concern themselves with the cloudy skies or a brown paper bag being blown along by the chill spring breeze.

The woman grabbed a porter.  ‘Is this the London train?’

‘It was last time I looked.’

‘When did it arrive?’

‘Five minutes ago, six mebbe.  The twelve-ten, running on time.’

Five minutes.  Time enough for him to realise that she wasn’t there waiting for him, as she had promised.  Time for him to wander off looking for her, perhaps?  Kate glanced about her, growing ever more frantic as the crowd thinned a little and people began to move away.  Where could he be?  What if he hadn’t even been on the train at all?  Oh, my darling, let nothing happen now to prevent our glorious reunion.

            The men looking on couldn’t help wishing it were them she had rushed to see with such anxiety in her lovely face, while the women envied her sense of style, and that natural beauty which meant she could still look stunning, even with no hat and her hair blowing everywhere.

She finally got the offending article in place, although the women tut-tutted when they saw that she did not possess a hat pin with which to anchor it.  Consequently, mere seconds later it was knocked awry as a young soldier rushed past to gather his sweetheart tight in his arms, and they heard her cry out with despair.

Would her soldier come?

Kate Tyson stopped running and smoothed down her coat.  Giving up on the hat, she tidied the rebellious red curls as best she could, pinning the mass of them back with a comb and a few hair grips, tucking a stray strand behind each ear.

Her two-piece was of blue linen with semi-raglan sleeves and a high buttoned collar.  The shoes, of course, were of the finest kid leather with the latest and fashionably high Louis heels.  Most of all he would notice the shoes, and hopefully her trim ankles.  Kate had spent hours getting ready, so wanting to look her best.

If only Flora hadn’t kicked up such a fuss at breakfast time or Aunt Vera hadn’t launched into one of her interminable lectures, she would have been on time.  Now here she was, despite all her best efforts, arriving late on a draughty station platform, heart beating like a drum, sick with nerves and  shaking in every limb.

            Where was he?  Where was he?

            He would think she’d forgotten, that she hadn’t come.

            There wasn’t even a band playing in welcome.  So different from the day on which she’d first seen Eliot off to war, four long years ago.  On that day there’d been a mood of celebration, certainly high optimism.  The town band had played, the Mayor and his good lady handing out gifts and parcels of food to the new recruits taking the King’s shilling.  Almost as if the war were nothing more than a game which would soon be won and they would all be back home with their loved ones by Christmas.

But the war had dragged on and on, and too many of those bright, handsome young men never would return.

On the day he’d joined up, Kate and Eliot had been very much at odds, not having spoken to each other for some years.  Yet her love for him, even then, had over-ridden all their differences and she’d been unable to resist coming to see him off. 

            That had been the day when she had told Eliot that Flora, her darling daughter, was indeed his, and later he’d come home on leave to make Kate his wife.  Oh, she’d kicked up quite a fuss over that, had denied she needed him, but she couldn’t ever deny her love for him and so they had married, a joyous day with all their friends present and Flora as bridesmaid.

Now Flora was a precocious ten year old and had thrown one of her tantrums at not being allowed to accompany her mother to the station, but Kate had been adamant.  Her first meeting with Eliot after so long a separation must be private.  They needed to be alone.

Bad enough that they must return to a house full of gossiping servants, not to mention his two aunts who, dear as they were, could be extremely intrusive.

And there was so much to tell him, so many details she had kept from him while he was serving King and country.  Facts about the business that would now need to be revealed with great tact and care.   Quite how that would be achieved, Kate had no real idea, frowning with new anxiety at the thought.

He knew that Kate’s older child, Callum, was safely home again, of course, but she’d never quite explained how that had come about, deciding it was something best told in person rather than a letter.  She would simply have to play it by ear, make her judgements according to his reaction to the changes that had taken place in his absence.

Kate felt a small nub of worry in the pit of her stomach when she thought of the reunion between man and boy.  Eliot had always loved him as his own, but how would Callum react?

The crowds were moving away, families holding their loved one close, children carried high in their father’s arms, some of them crying, not recognising this stranger who had burst into their lives.

Heart beating a little faster, Kate clenched her gloved hands tight.  What would she say to her husband?  Would they feel like strangers or reunited lovers?  How would it feel to have him hold her again?

She momentarily closed her eyes on a rush of memory, remembering the glorious pressure of his body against hers, the warm touch of his hand, the roughness of his chin when he took her in a compelling kiss.  Would she be shy like a young bride, or eager and passionate?  To her shame, Kate rather thought it would be the latter.

            ‘Step back miss, if you please.’

            All such concerns were wiped from her mind as the station porter waved his green flag, doors slammed, a whistle blew  and the next instant the train let out a great sigh and belch of steam, then slowly began to move out of the station.  It was leaving, and still she hadn’t found him.  Kate was running alongside it, checking every window.  Could Eliot still be on board, fallen asleep perhaps, or leaving again because she hadn’t been here to meet him?  No, no, he would never do that, surely.  And then the train was gone, the platform was quite empty and she was alone.

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