her and things would have been different if her husband had made it through the war. What price his sacrifice, eh? She'd told me as she knew I'd been at the Front. She needed a shoulder to cry on every now and then. You can't begrudge 'er that, Elizabeth. And there were absolutely nowt more between us. She's a full ten year older than me for starters.'
Elizabeth smiled. 'But she's a good looking woman.'
'I'll not deny that. But she's not a patch on you.'
She smiled up at him, feeling the happiness through her pain. She put her hand into his and as it folded around hers she felt safe, protected, better able to face the problems her father had presented her with. No longer alone.
And then she looked up into his eyes, frowning.
'So if it wasn't Betty, what did you mean when you said you hadn't been honest with me? You said if I knew, I wouldn't think well of you?'
He dropped his hold on her hand and his body stiffened. 'I did something that I'll never forgive meself for as long as I live and if you were to know you'd think differently of me and I couldn't bear that.'
'If you've made a mistake, you've clearly already suffered as a consequence. But you don't have to go on suffering for the rest of your life. No one should have to do that.'
'I should. I've destroyed me family and wrecked their future.' He stared at the ground beneath his feet and kicked at a pile of leaves, the gentleness of the mood between them replaced by awkwardness. The rapidity in which they had moved from strangers to confessors and, in his kissing of her palm, almost to lovers, embarrassed them now. As if by design, the sun had begun to sink in the sky, bringing a slight chill to remind them that this was indeed autumn.
She realised he didn't want to tell her more, but reluctant to let it go unresolved, she tried a different tack. 'Was it to do with the War?'
'No. It weren't the War.'
She could tell he wasn't going to take her further into his confidence and she felt hurt. They fell into silence. Elizabeth was the first to rise from the seat. She gathered her coat around her shoulders and turned to bid him farewell, taking refuge in formality.
'Thank you again for your kindness, Michael. You've helped me. I feel better able to face the funeral tomorrow.'
He took the proffered hand in a formal handshake, avoiding eye contact. 'I hope it won't be too painful for you tomorrow. I'll be thinking of you.'
'Thank you.'
They stood there awkwardly until she turned and started to walk away, heading back towards the waterfront pathway. She walked quickly, the tears brimming again. Then she heard him running after her and before she knew what was happening, he pulled her towards him and gathered her in to his chest, where he held her, against him. She buried her head in the roughness of his jacket. At last he spoke. 'I have to see you again.'
She nodded. 'Yes.'
'Tomorrow?'
'I have the funeral tomorrow morning.'
'I'll come with you. You shouldn't go through that alone.'
Elizabeth thought of the conversation she must have with Jack Kidd. She didn't want Michael witnessing that and hearing of her father's debts. Besides she had to explain to Kidd that her father's plan for their wedding would never be realised. She could not do that with Michael at her side.
'No. I want to be alone when I say my goodbyes to Father.'
'Then we can meet afterwards? I want to tell you everything. When you've heard what I have to say, you may decide you don't want to see me again, but I'll have to take that risk.'
He eased her away from his chest and looked down into her eyes. It was almost unbearable to see the pain in his eyes and at that moment it felt for her that there was nowhere else but here and now, with him and her mouth moved up to his. His lips felt soft and warm as they met hers and she closed her eyes. Just as the kiss became more urgent, he broke off, brushing his lips over her brow before holding her away from him at the end of his outstretched arms. He
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