Chapter Eight
George gripped the railing around the deck of the Royal Navy frigate and scanned the spectacular view of the Norwegian coast. The cold stung his cheeks but the rest of him was warm, covered in layers of thermals beneath his army uniform.
It hadn't occurred to him that since this training exercise was run by the Royal Marines, they might sail to Norway.
He snapped photos of sheer cliffs covered in snow and topped with clouds, and narrow inlets that led to fjords. Then they passed a picturesque small town of colored wooden houses clustered together on a flat coastal area.
In the arctic circle, he'd expected it to be dark all the time during the winter, but even this far north there were about five hours of daylight. The darkness wasn't as dark as at home, the sun hanging just below the horizon, giving the scenery a blue glow. He wished Sandra were here to share this with him. One day he'd bring her on a cruise up the Norwegian coast so she could see where he'd been.
Most of the time his days were busy and his mind occupied, but every night as he lay in the dark, he relived memories of his time with Sandra, a dull ache of longing gripping his heart.
He missed her badly, but he was still enjoying the training exercise. He'd undergone two weeks' induction in how to cope with arctic conditions and been briefed on the schedule of training exercises. Then they'd boarded the ship at the naval dockyard in Plymouth and started the four-day journey to the Bardufoss training base in northern Norway.
He was one of two army doctors on the exercise. There were also two from the RAF, and the rest of the medics were all navy. Surgeon Commander Graham had given the medical staff a few hours off to enjoy the spectacle of the Norwegian coastline while it was light, but as they approached Bardufoss, it was time to return to duty and prepare to disembark.
"I suggest we report back." George had no authority over the other young doctors who were enjoying the scenery with him, but he'd discovered at college that he was a natural leader. Others looked to him for direction, and he was not one for false modesty. He intended to pursue leadership at every opportunity and make sure his superiors recognized his potential.
Four hours later they had disembarked, and the equipment they'd brought to build the field hospital had been unloaded onto military vehicles fitted with caterpillar tracks to traverse the snowy terrain.
George rubbed his gloved hands together against the cold as he huddled out of the bitter wind with the other military medics, waiting for a final briefing. Nearby, shouting sailors unloaded vehicles and equipment for the Royal Marines.
Surgeon Commander Graham strode up and pointed at an all-terrain vehicle. "Right. You'll travel in the Viking. We have a forty-five-minute drive. Remember the safety procedures and don't take unnecessary risks. It looks bad if we have to ship the doctors home injured." He gave a wry grin and everyone laughed.
As the surgeon commander walked to the cab of the vehicle, he slapped George on the back. "I didn't expect to see you again so soon after the wedding. I hope you're ready for some hard work."
"Yes, sir."
"Good. I'm putting you in command of some of the hospital setup work tomorrow. I'll brief you in the morning."
"Thank you, sir."
As George settled in the troop carrier and braced for an uncomfortable journey, a young sailor climbed on the back of the vehicle and handed a few letters to the nearest man. "This mail arrived ahead of you."
The man holding the letters leafed through them. "Knight," he said, handing over an envelope. George took it, his heart leaping at the sight of Sandra's writing. He'd sent her two letters while he was in Plymouth, and written one during the voyage up here, sharing the wonderful views he'd seen, and handed it in to be mailed when they arrived in Norway.
He was about to open his letter when he was passed two more, both from Sandra.
"Dr. Popular," someone said. "Who're they from?"
"My fiancée." George couldn't help grinning as he said that word. He loved the thought of his ring on Sandra's finger, and the fact she was at home thinking of him. Although he was enjoying this new experience, he couldn't wait to see her again. He planned to write to her about all the interesting things he did. It made sense that if she knew how he spent his time, she would feel more a part of his life, even though they weren't together.
As the vehicle set off, the others laughed and teased him about his love letters, but he simply smiled. They were only jealous.
• • •
As the train rattled along, Sandra huddled into her seat and reread her latest letter from George. She'd received eight in the six weeks he'd been away, far more than she'd expected. Each one ran to at least four pages, detailing what he was doing, the weather conditions, the exercises, and the medical emergencies he'd had to deal with.
He described the field hospital as a tented complex with wooden pallets underfoot to keep them off the frozen ground. Working there sounded primitive, but also challenging and exciting.
George excelled at letter writing, just like he excelled at everything else. Her thoughts slipped back to their last twenty-four hours together when they'd rarely left her bed. She snuggled in her coat, a sigh of longing whispering across her lips. Those memories of their passionate interlude were her most treasured ones.
Although the memories summoned another less welcome thought as well—her period was late.
The train brakes squealed, jolting Sandra from her musings. She glanced up to see where they were, and grabbed her backpack off the seat before heading for the door. When the train stopped, she stepped out at Southampton station and slung her bag over her shoulder.
Her mind churned as she strolled along the quiet platform. She couldn't be pregnant. They'd taken precautions. Well, mostly they had. The first time, in the sleeping bag on the sofa on Christmas night, had not been planned. Neither of them was prepared. When George slipped his ring on her finger, passion took over and their good sense got lost in the heat.
Surely she wasn't unlucky enough to be pregnant after one lapse? Yet as she tried to convince herself that fate wouldn't be that unkind, she knew it was possible.
Her footsteps echoed in the empty station ticket hall. At midday, the morning rush hour was over and the afternoon one hadn't started. She walked out the exit, ignored the line of taxicabs with their drivers dozing or reading newspapers across their steering wheels, and headed to the bus stop.
Taking a seat in the old cement bus shelter, she twisted her engagement ring around her finger. Her sensible side dreaded the possibility she was pregnant. How would she finish her rotation through the medical specialties and find a good place in general practice if she had a baby to look after?
Despite her concerns, her heart hummed with suppressed excitement as images of a tiny boy who looked like George flitted through her mind.
She wanted his baby very much, only not yet. It would mess up her career plans, and she'd worked so hard to get where she was. But how wonderful it would be to have George's baby, a darling little boy or girl. Her heart contracted on a burst of longing and she pressed a hand over her abdomen, desperately hoping a new life was growing inside.
The bus arrived and the doors hissed open. Sandra climbed on, paid, and took a seat, hugging her backpack on her lap. The vehicle pulled away and she stared at the houses and small stores outside. A pharmacy sign caught her eye and she sucked in a breath.
She needed to buy a pregnancy test kit so she could find out for sure, and tell George. That thought brought a nervous lump to her throat. He probably wanted children sometime, but the first one might arrive a little quicker than he'd expected.
Sandra chuckled. Make that a lot quicker. Her humor faded and she rubbed a hand over her face as the bus turned along the road to the supermarket where she was to meet her mum.
Jumping out, Sandra headed for the nearest pharmacy. She pressed her lips together as she pushed open the door, her pulse increasing as she walked up and down the aisles searching for what she
wanted.
She grabbed one of the small boxes, looking both ways to make sure nobody was watching. After paying, she stuffed the test deep in the bottom of her backpack.
She found her mother's car, just as the older woman approached.
"Darling, it's lovely to see you. Did you have a good trip?"
"Hello, Mum." She hugged her mother, holding on for a little longer than usual, needing the reassurance.
"Is everything all right?" Of course her mum immediately noticed she wasn't herself.
"Yes, fine."
Sandra helped empty the shopping cart into the back of the car, then they set off for home.
As her mother drove out of Southampton and into the forest, she cast Sandra a curious sideways glance. "You're very quiet, love. Are you sure everything's fine? There's not a problem between you and George, is there?"
Sandra had planned to do the pregnancy test before she mentioned anything to her mother. After all, there was no point in worrying her needlessly, but the words just burst out. "I might be pregnant."
Her mother's eyes widened. "You're not sure?"
Sandra felt the box in the bottom of her backpack digging into her thigh. "I'll do a test when we get home."
"Well, let's not worry until we know for certain." She reached across the hand brake and squeezed Sandra's arm. "Either way, things will be fine. If you're pregnant, you'll just have to get married as soon as George comes back."
Sandra nodded. She and George hadn't discussed wedding plans. They'd had so little time together before he went away.
The familiar sandy heath glowed with yellow gorse bushes, welcoming her home. New Forest ponies grazed in groups, the mares with heavy round bellies, soon to foal. Blue and yellow crocuses, and white snowdrops filled the gardens of the tiny cottages along the road. Bright new leaves sprouted on the deciduous trees while the dark green pines kept their needles all year.
The car turned down the lane to their house and butterflies bumped around in Sandra's stomach. As her mother pulled up outside Pine Cone Cottage, there was no sign of her father's Land Rover, thank goodness. She knew he'd support her if she were pregnant, but he might not be happy about it.
They carried the shopping bags into the kitchen, then her mother started to put things away in cupboards. "Right, you go and do the deed. I'll put the kettle on." Her mother glanced at her, eyebrows raised.
Sandra dug the box out of the bottom of her backpack, her heart pounding as if she'd just run a race. "Okay."
"It'll be all right, darling. Whatever the result, things will work out." Her mother put an arm around her shoulders. "Off you go."
A few minutes later, Sandra sat on the edge of the tub in the bathroom, holding the wand from the test kit. Her gaze glued to her watch, she waited for the minutes to pass at a snail's pace.
She felt numb, frozen in suspended animation as if the world had stopped. So much hung on this result. It might be a turning point in her life, or her career, at least. Did she want the result to be negative or positive?
Her mind summoned the image of a newborn baby cuddled in her arms, a tiny boy with George's dark hair and eyes.
Sandra sucked in a breath and raised the wand. Positive. She blinked, hanging on to her emotions as she checked the leaflet to make sure she hadn't made a mistake. Definitely positive.
Joy burst through her and she jumped up, fired with energy and excitement. "Yes." She grinned at herself in the mirror. This overwhelming happiness took her by surprise.
She yanked open the bathroom door, clattered down the stairs, and burst into the kitchen, the wand still in her hand. "It's positive, Mum. I'm pregnant."
She threw her arms around her mother and then danced around the kitchen with their black Labrador, Milton, jumping at her feet.
"I gather you're pleased." Her mother held her at arm's length, a smile on her face.
"I had no idea how much I wanted a baby until I took that test."
"Then I'm very pleased for you, sweetie." Her mother hugged her again and Sandra grinned over her shoulder. She couldn't seem to stop.
"We'd better start planning the wedding for the end of March when George comes home. Shall we see the vicar while you're here? I'll call him and arrange a meeting after church on Sunday."
The ecstatic swirl of emotions calmed and Sandra could finally think straight again. She had never expected to feel this way about having a baby. She placed a hand on her abdomen and imagined the tiny speck of life growing inside. She was going to have George's child. Images of the two of them together with a little boy scrolled through her mind. Suddenly her career didn't seem as important. She could always pick it up again at a later date.