War Girls Complete Collection Chapter 329

Chapter 48: Tom

Northolt, January 1947

T

om returned to England for his leave. His application to marry a German woman had made the rounds on his home base and he dreaded the saucy jokes his comrades would crack.

Willie caught up to him the moment he left his aircraft. “Hey, Tom. How’s life in Berlin?”

“Good, old chap. Very good.” Tom grinned at his friend and former superior. “How about you?”

“Same old same old. I have to warn you, news about your imminent marriage shocked the hell out of the chaps. I mean, it’s not every day one of us wants to marry an enemy national.”

“Ex-enemy national,” Tom corrected him.

“Still, a gutsy move. When will I finally get to meet her?” Willie asked.

“About that…” Tom hesitated for a moment. Willie was his best friend, but he was still nervous to ask. “… will you be my best man?”

“Me?” The question knocked the breath from Willie’s lungs.

“Yes, you? Or do you see anyone else standing around?”

“Wow… well… wow… I mean… sure. I’d love to. So you’re going to tie the knot over here?”

“Hmmm… no. Ursula won’t get a visa to come here, at least not until we’re married.”

“So, you want me to go to Berlin? How? When?” Willie seemed overwhelmed with the news.

Tom chuckled. “You climbed so far up the ladder you’ve forgotten how to fly a kite?”

Willie punched him in the chest. “Of course not, but I can’t just use our craft for personal purposes.”

“Since you’re the boss around here, you can easily assign yourself one of the missions to Berlin.” Tom grinned. “Or you could ask one of your minions to give you a ride on the jump seat. I’m sure the lads would like that, having the boss looking over their shoulder.”

“They would fight for the honor…” Willie laughed. “I’ll find a way; just tell me the exact date at least two weeks in advance. By the way, will your parents attend?”

Tom’s face fell. “I haven’t exactly told them.”

“You… haven’t told them… what?”

“That I’m going to marry Ursula. The last time I mentioned her, they were less than amused.”

“I can imagine.” Willie leaned against the wall, studying his friend’s face. “I don’t even want to imagine your mother’s face when you present her with a fait accompli.”

“Me, neither.” Tom shrugged, pushing the anxiety away that crept into his bones. For God’s sake, he was twenty-eight years old, had served years in the Royal Air Force, survived hundreds of sorties during the war, and braved the Gestapo. He shouldn’t be afraid of his own mother.

But he was.

He knew she wouldn’t like his news one bit. He came from an affluent family with a long history of both military and political service to their country. None of his family members harbored any sympathy for the Germans.

“I’m leaving to spend my leave with them as we speak.”

“Good luck. You’ll need it.” Willie grinned. “If things get really bad, give me a call and I can assemble a rescue mission.”

“Thanks, mate!” Tom bid his goodbyes, thinking that Willie was the best friend he could ask for. That daredevil would even be willing to face Tom’s mother and tear him from her clutches.

Tom caught a bus to his parents’ house in London, giving the housekeeper a warm greeting when she let him into the foyer.

“It’s good to have you home, sir.”

“It’s good to be back on English soil, Teresa. Are the parents around?”

“They are in the library having their afternoon tea. Would you like me to bring some for you?”

Tom nodded. “Thanks. I’ll run my bags up to my room first and get changed. I’m off base for the next week and it will be a pleasure to wear something other than my uniform.”

“I understand; however, you do look rather dashing in it.”

“Thank you,” Tom told her with a wink. He headed up the stairs to his room and made short work of unpacking his belongings and changing into a pair of trousers and a plain button-down shirt. He headed for the library, pushing the doors open just as Teresa finished setting up another cup and saucer. “Thank you.”

“Of course.”

“Mother. Sir.” He greeted his mother with a kiss on each cheek and then shook his father’s hand.

“Welcome home, son. Did you have a good flight?”

“Just like normal. Anything new been going on around here?”

“Not really. It’s cold. It’s damp. It’s drizzling outside. It’s January in London.”

“Point taken.” Tom chuckled. “The weather in Berlin hasn’t been much better. They say it’s been one of the coldest winters in a century.”

His parents didn’t seem to be too interested in talking about Berlin so he spent a few minutes asking about their various hobbies and interests. When their tea was almost over, he decided there was no time like the present to tell them about his upcoming marriage.

“The rules over in Germany have been changing,” he started out the conversation.

“How so?” his father asked, giving him a lead-in.

“Well, the fraternization rules started changing more than a year ago, allowing British servicemen to interact with Germans in public places.”

“From what I hear there are numerous of your peers who are interacting with German women in very non-public places,” his mother said in derision.

“That’s true. I personally find the practice appalling. Some of the men I know who have wives and fiancées back here also have two or three mistresses scattered around Berlin and Germany.”

“They should be ashamed of themselves. No English lady would ever act so brazenly or with such a lack of modesty,” his mother said, sipping more of her tea.

“Not all German women are hussies and not all English women have obeyed the polite rules of society.” Tom tried to find a way to return to his plan instead of discussing the virtues of English women over German women.

“Those rules are there to help distinguish the British from Johnny foreigner who knows no better,” his mother informed him.

“I assume you consider all Germans in that class?”

“Of course. What do they know of polite Society, or how to conduct themselves in a variety of circumstances?”

“Mother, they are not uncouth Neanderthals. The Germans actually date back before the English as far as customs and protocol go.”

“An English lady knows her place. She tends to the children, her home, her gardens, and her clubs. She is generous with her praise and looks for ways to bless those less fortunate with whom she comes into contact.”

Tom looked at his mother with disbelief on his face. “Are you listening to yourself? There are so many things wrong with what you just said.”

“Tom,” his father cautioned him.

“No, this needs to be said. You didn’t tend to your children, you hired a nanny, tutors, and a cook to do so. Neither did you tend to your home. Teresa did that, along with the maids she directed before the war. We used to have gardeners who tended to the grounds. You do attend your clubs, but I’m not sure anything productive ever comes out of those meetings.”

“What on earth…” His mother’s expression would be almost comical if it weren’t blazing red with anger.

He held up a hand between them. “As for being generous with your praise, I’ve never witnessed you praise the household staff.” Tom knew he should keep his mouth shut, but his mother’s snobbish opinions irked him.

“The way to get better service is to let those in your employ know the areas where they can improve,” his mother said.

“So, no one has ever done something in a manner that deserved a compliment? As for blessing those that are less fortunate than yourself, you and father do a remarkable job of being altruistic, but always through father’s solicitors.”

His father put in, “We have been blessed with enough money and resources to provide jobs for all the things you just mentioned. Don’t fault your mother or me for that.”

Tom sighed. “I don’t. I was just trying to make a point that the British aren’t the only people on the planet who can be considered good people.”

His father observed him and Tom met his gaze. “I’ve asked Ursula to marry me.”

“No!” His mother gasped, covering her mouth with her hands. His father’s jaw clenched tight. “Don’t ruin your life, Tom!”

“I love her. We’ve already applied for approval of an intermarriage, and should be granted the permission within a month.”

“I forbid it,” his father told him in a stern voice.

“Tom, you can’t be serious. You’d embarrass us this way?”

“If you knew her, you’d see she’s not in the least bit embarrassing.”

His father shook his head, regret coloring his expression. “See what you’re saying, son? You haven’t even introduced her to your parents.”

“They aren’t exactly handing out travel passes to Germans these days. But I invite you to visit Berlin and get to know her.”

“Over my dead body will I set foot in Germany.” His mother turned away, indicating the conversation was over.

“I was hoping you could support me in my choice of a wife,” Tom said to his father.

“Son, you have a responsibility to this family…”

“And what is that? I’ve done my bit. I have defended my country with a lot of personal sacrifice, if I may say so myself. We won the war, now it’s time to move forward into a better future. A future filled with peace, friendship and understanding.”

“There can never be friendship with the Germans.” His mother glowered at Tom before she turned toward her husband. “Thomas, would you please accompany me to your study?”

Tom stared at their backs. This hadn’t gone over the way he’d wished it would. It tore his heart apart, but he was going to marry Ursula, whether his parents approved or not.