Home Sweet Home by Lizzie Lane Read Free Book Online Page A

it was bad enough that he would smell of antiseptic without her smelling of it too.
    After taking off his cap, he’d ducked his head beneath the front door lintel. Sergeant Innes had fetched him and his effects in an official car and followed him through the door. The sergeant had placed a brown paper carrier bag on the floor. It didn’t contain much, just two pairs of pyjamas, underwear, shaving soap and a face flannel.
    â€˜Is there anything else I can do, sir?’ Sergeant Innes asked.
    Michael shook his head. His gaze was fixed on his wife. ‘Everything I want is here, Sergeant.’
    â€˜Then I’ll wish you good day, sir. Good day, Mrs Dangerfield.’
    â€˜Good day,’ Mary said softly. ‘And thank you.’
    The front door had closed softly on the nasty weather and the discreet RAF sergeant.
    Her heart racing, Mary had covered her cheeks with her hands. This was it! Michael was home. She could hardly believe it. Her legs would still have been weak even if she hadn’t been pregnant. She had waited for this all morning, wanting to go with the sergeant to fetch her husband, but had been advised to consider her condition. Not that she’d been able to rest – she’d cleaned, dusted and polished to distraction, darting to the window every half hour to see if the car was in sight. And now he was here.
    She’d baked a rabbit and mushroom pie for their lunch, and made a cake from stale breadcrumbs and stewed apple. She’d also rehearsed what she was going to say to her husband, words of love, of welcome and telling him how much she’d missed him. But all she had been able to say was, ‘Michael!’
    There was triumphant glee in his smile and the way he flung his cap on top of the rest of his things. ‘Honey, I’m home.’
    Mary tried to say something in response, just a few of the words she’d rehearsed; surely she could do that? It was no use. The words just wouldn’t come. Instead her mouth had opened and closed like a goldfish. As though I’m drowning in happiness, she’d thought.
    â€˜Do I look good to you?’ he had asked.
    Mary had flown into his arms and buried her face against his shoulder.
    â€˜Whoa!’ he cried out, spreading his arms to take the impact before folding them around her. ‘You almost knocked the breath out of me.’
    There were no words that could express what she was feeling. Mary burst into tears. ‘Michael, Michael, Michael!’
    â€˜Is that all you’re going to say?’ His arms were around her, his hands caressing her back.
    Her face safely hidden against his jacket, she squeezed back the tears. He was home. He was safe and he wasn’t nearly so badly disfigured as she’d thought he might be.
    He held her at arm’s length and laid his hand on her stomach. ‘So how’s my family coming along?’
    â€˜You didn’t say “son”.’
    â€˜I’m learning to be diplomatic. I know there are two possibilities.’
    â€˜Would you prefer a son?’
    â€˜I’ll settle for a girl if she looks like you.’
    â€˜I’ve made a pie.’ Shyly, Mary changed the subject.
    â€˜Does it have any meat in it?’
    â€˜Yes. Paul knows somebody with a shotgun who knows where there’s a warren bursting with rabbits.’
    â€˜Sounds good. Spotted Dick for afters? With custard?’
    â€˜Apple cake.’
    â€˜I like apple cake. As long as it’s sweet. Like you.’ He kissed the top of her head.
    She laughed, but one thought nagged at her. ‘I wish you didn’t have to fly again,’ she murmured against the warmth of his shoulder.
    He winced when he read the fear in those eyes he loved so much, so blue, so clearly showing her love for him. ‘That’s like saying you wish I never drew breath again. Anyway, the final decision isn’t down to me.’
    Mary closed her eyes and said a silent prayer.