whereabouts to your father? And there’s no use looking at him,” she said as Elizabeth looked to Tom for support. “He’s not going to be able to help you. Goodness knows what the young doctor is going to say. So, tell me. Are you still engaged, or did I miss the latest village gossip?”
“Yes,” she eventually muttered. “I suppose I am.”
Martha picked up Elizabeth’s underclothes and handed them to her. “What a bloody mess. Would the pair of you just get dressed? I’ll be in the kitchen waiting.”
* * *
“Do you want to go out the window?” he asked once his mother had left. That was how Francine had left months before. “The ground isn’t all that high.”
“There’s no point running away, is there? We’d better just get this over and done with. People might as well get used to it now rather than later.”
Despite their predicament, he couldn’t help but smile. “So, you still want this?”
Her face turned ashen, a cloud passing by the sun, taking away the light. “Have you changed your mind?”
“No,” he said quickly. “Absolutely not. I love you, Elizabeth Margaret . . .” He paused for thought. “Oh, I can’t remember all your posh names. I love you, that’s what counts.” His movements were becoming quick and purposeless, his mind in a bit of an overexcited fog. “I’m going to come with you now, speak to your father. Like you say, we have to face this head-on.”
His fingers were cold and his palms sweaty as she took his hand. Giggles shook loose, inspired by how keen he was. How brave he was. Had she been brave? Not yet she hadn’t, but she knew she would have to be soon. “No. Don’t do that. There are some things I’d better do alone,” she said, thinking ahead. “Best my father meets you after he knows.”
Tom’s grip tightened. “I’m not going to hide, Elizabeth.”
“Good,” she said, stroking his face. “But my father is nothing like your mother. And it’s different for boys and girls.” They shared a kiss and some of that certainty from the night before returned. “It’s best this way. Plus, I need to speak with James.” Heaviness over what they had done settled on his shoulders. It hurt him, she saw, that he had to hurt another person to be with the one he loved, and she loved him all the more because of it. More than the night before. What a way to spend a life, she thought, enjoying an exponential increase in the loftiest feeling she had ever experienced. Within seconds she had kissed him again, all thoughts of their families temporarily lost.
“When will I see you next?” he asked as they pulled apart.
“I don’t know,” she said, shaking her head. Was that apprehension she could see on his face, the creased brow and pursed lips? She noticed his favorite book on the floor, kicked from the bed last night by their feet. “But I’m going to take this with me.”
“I seem to remember telling you that’s my favorite.” He didn’t look too sure about letting it go.
“I remember, Thomas Hale,” she said, her fingers flicking at the edge. “Just like I can remember your names. All two of them.” With a gentle tap she bopped him on the nose with the back of the book. “This is my insurance. You’ll have to come and find me if you want this back.”
It didn’t really hurt, but he wanted to play along, so he rubbed the edge of his nose. “You just try stopping me.”
* * *
Tom’s mother’s fingers drummed against the table as they arrived downstairs. It hit Elizabeth more then than it had the night before, the differences between their homes and lives. It looked as if a breakfast bomb had gone off. Was this normal, she wondered, not just for Tom, but in general? Was this what a normal household without a housekeeper was like? His mother was sitting at the table with a cup of tea by her side, a cigarette clasped between her fingers. Smoke drifted toward the ceiling like a distress signal.
“You’ve missed work,” she announced, as if that were the worst problem of all. The cherry fizzed as she sucked on the cigarette. Confined in the small room, the smoke stung Elizabeth’s eyes. “And at least now I know why your father never made it home. You were too busy off gallivanting to bother to find him.”
Elizabeth felt Tom tighten next to her. A cold draft slipped