He had been waiting for her as she’d descended the beautiful wide, curved staircase. He’d stood in the hall, looking so handsome in his dinner jacket that she caught her breath.

To Mags, as he’d taken her hand, the feeling inside her was of coming home. Only this home was even grander than her parents’ house had been – if a little old-fashioned, with ruby-red carpets of an Indian pattern, and heavy, carved furniture in dark oak.

Taking her arm, Jerome commented on how beautiful she looked, and it occurred to Mags that she could say the same about him, but she checked herself. Everything seemed to be moving along at a much faster pace than she had wanted.

As they stood out on the porch after dinner, the night was balmy in a heavy, thundery way. The smell of honeysuckle hung on the night air, and but for the gas light in the garden, they would have been in darkness, as clouds gathered in the sky.

Jerome stood very close to her, and Mags felt acutely aware of him: of how he smelt of a popular woody aftershave, of the feel of his tailored jacket and of whiffs of his small cigar.

‘Remember that bush?’

The one they had kissed behind. ‘Yes’ was all she could manage.

‘Can we repeat history?’

No words were needed as he threw down his cigar and trampled on it, then took her hand. Once behind the bush, he held her gently. ‘Mags, my darling Mags, at last.’

His lips came onto hers and she was lost. Lost in a sea of feelings she never thought to experience again. There was no resistance in her, and she didn’t want there to be. This felt so right, so wonderful – she was alive again. Every part of her was awakened and ready to give of her love once more.

When he came out of the kiss, Jerome murmured, ‘I love you, Mags. I love you with all that is me, and always have done.’

‘I love you, Jerome. I’m ready to give you the same deep love I gave to Montel.’

‘Oh, Mags, that is the greatest compliment you could give me.’ Pulling her to him, he said, ‘I wish I could hold you every hour of every day and every night.’

Mags could only snuggle into him and drink in the feeling of being loved and cherished again. The thought came to her that if only the war hadn’t happened, in the normal run of things she and Jerome would have come together. Then all the suffering wouldn’t have occurred. But then she would never have known Montel, or had the gift of her beautiful little Beth. In the end, all I suffered has been worth it.

EPILOGUE

France, 1926

Mags, Flora and Ella

A Reunion

Chapter Thirty-Four

Ten months had passed by the time Mags, Jerome and Beth finally set out to France – a trip that was to be the couple’s honeymoon.