Anne Bennett - The Child Left Behind

‘I never defy my father.’ Gabrielle said. ‘I do whatever he wants and so does everyone else in the house.’

‘That worries me a little,’ Finn admitted. ‘You have said that your father wants you to make a good marriage and I am afraid that—’

Gabrielle came to a sudden stop and, facing Finn, took his face between her hands. ‘Listen to me, Finn,’ she said. ‘I love you with all my heart and soul. My life is nothing without you and if I cannot have you then I will have no one.’

‘But if your father—’

‘If I ever felt that I couldn’t stand against my father, then I would go to my aunt and uncle in Paris,’ Gabrielle said. ‘I know they would help me.’

‘I saw you with your aunt in the town a couple of times.’ Finn said. ‘You looked so carefree.’

Gabrielle was a little irritated by what Finn said. ‘How shallow you must think me,’ she answered. ‘That carefreeness was an act I was putting on; to behave any other way would have been unkind to my aunt and uncle, and also would make my parents angry and suspicious.’ She looked at Finn and cried, ‘My throat was so constricted with love of you I could barely eat.’

‘You’re not crying?’ Finn said, appalled.

‘I’m trying not to,’ Gabrielle said brokenly. She gave a sigh and went on, ‘But I’m hurt that you could think so little of me.’

They had reached the farmhouse and Finn kicked the door open and pulled Gabrielle inside.

‘Oh, my darling, I’m so sorry,’ he said, unfastening Gabrielle’s cape as he spoke. He let it fall to the floor as he kissed the tears from her face. He couldn’t believe he had made his beloved cry and he didn’t know how he could make it up to her. He drew her towards the sofa before the fire and lit the lamp. ‘I deserve to be hung, drawn and quartered for upsetting you so,’ he said.

‘You have no reason to distrust me,’ Gabrielle said. ‘My uncle and aunt were all for taking me back to Paris with them. Before I met you I would have loved to go, but all I could envisage were more weeks before I could see you and I knew that I couldn’t have borne that.’

‘How did you get out of it?’

‘I told them that it would be better for me to go in the spring when Yvette has left school and will be able to take my place in the shop.’

‘Captain Hamilton says that we will be gone from here by the spring,’ Finn said. ‘Some are moving out at the end of January, but I’ll not leave until the officers do. So it might be a good thing for you to go to Paris for a while.’

Gabrielle fell as if a tight band was squeezing her heart at the thought that in a few short months Finn would be gone. What was Paris to that?

She knew when he went from here it would be as if he had disappeared from her life, for there was no way that they could communicate, and she knew that that would be really hard for her, for them both; she didn’t imagine that it would be any easier for Finn to bear. She tried to bite back the sob, but Finn heard it and he held her even tighter as she said forlornly, ‘Every moment must count from now, my darling, because these are what I must commit to memory until you come back to claim me.’

Finn too felt a lump in his throat as he bent to kiss Gabrielle, and that kiss unlocked fires of passion in both of them. The poignancy of their situation and the threat of parting so soon—and maybe for years—were in their minds, and Finn felt as though desire was almost consuming him.

Gabrielle made no move to stop him as he kissed her neck and throat. Her sobs turned to little gasps of pleasure as he unbuttoned the bodice of her dress and fondled her breasts. Even when he eased her bloomers from her and slid his hands between her legs while his lips fastened on her nipples she wanted him to go on and on, and do something to still the feelings coursing through her. She wasn’t afraid, because she was with Finn and she knew he would never harm her.

There was a sudden sharp pain as Finn entered her and then the rapturous feeling as they moved together as if they were one person. She felt enveloped in total bliss that rose higher and higher in waves of exquisite joy, so that she cried out again and again.

Eventually their movements slowed and then stopped. Finn slipped off Gabrielle and on to the floor beside her, and she lay back on the sofa in sated satisfaction with her eyes closed.

Suddenly she realised that Finn was crying. ‘My darling! What is it?’

Finn turned a tear-washed face to her. ‘Gabrielle, do you know what we have just done?’

Gabrielle nodded. ‘I’m pretty sure that you have done what you threatened to do to me before.’

‘What was that?’

‘Ravish me,’ Gabrielle said, smiling at Finn, who looked so ashamed of himself.

‘Yes,’ said Finn. ‘Dear God, I deserve horsewhipping. How could I have been so stupid?’

‘Don’t,’ Gabrielle said. ‘It’s the most wonderful experience I have ever had.’

‘You don’t understand,’ Finn said. ‘I wanted to protect you. My feelings for you just overwhelmed me. I am so sorry.’

‘It isn’t all your fault,’ Gabrielle said. ‘I could have put a stop to it if I had wanted to. Maybe when two people love as we love, it’s impossible to wait.’

Finn got up and began to dress. What if she was to have a child? That would be the very worst thing to happen to an unmarried woman. And it wasn’t as if he would be there to share the burden with her. That thought brought him out in a cold sweat.

Gabrielle seemed not in the least bit worried about that and she looked into Finn’s eyes as she said, ‘With or without marriage I now belong totally to you, Finn Sullivan. My lover and my very own British soldier.’

Finn felt his stomach give a lurch as the passion rose in him at Gabrielle’s words. He knew, however, that he must never let himself be overcome in that way again, and he pushed her from him gently and said, ‘Get dressed, my darling, before you catch your death of cold.’

Gabrielle knew that Finn’s family would worry about him as much as she did when he left, but they at least would have letters to sustain them. Maybe, she thought, she could write to them for news of Finn. His parents might not be that understanding, but his sister or brothers were probably more approachable. So one evening she said, ‘What are your brothers like? The only thing I know about Tom is that you consider him to be a plodder.’

‘He is,’ Finn insisted, ‘and he would be the first to admit that there is little else to say about him. He doesn’t mind in the least that each day is like the one before it and he knows that tomorrow will be just the same. The only thing that disturbs him is the milk yield being down. Yet he is the kindest man that walked the earth and it would be very hard to dislike him. It’s just that he won’t stir himself to do anything, not even to come to the socials with me and Joe.’

‘So Joe is not like Tom?’

‘No,’ Finn said, ‘he is more like me, though maybe not as determined. He has been saying for a few years now that he doesn’t want to stay in Buncrana all his life. Once he told me that he wouldn’t mind trying his hand in America. I suppose the war has put paid to that, but I sometimes wonder if he will ever leave the farm. Yet after my father’s day, everything will go to Tom.’

‘Joe would do well to leave then,’ Gabrielle said. ‘Otherwise he will be left with nothing, though it hardly seems fair.’

‘I suppose not,’ Finn agreed. ‘Though in this case it seems so, because Tom suits the work much better than Joe or me. Particularly me. My father always said I was too impatient to be a good farmer. I didn’t care about that because I didn’t want to be a farmer all my life, but I tried my damnedest just the same because I loved my father dearly.’