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Valentina couldn’t help one last comment. ‘He’s ruining it.’
Now her mother left her and walked on too. ‘Hurry up,’ she said over her shoulder, and Valentina had no choice but to follow like an animal being led to market.
Later, with the marriage plans formalised, hands shaken and glasses clinked, Valentina found herself alone with Lawrenz. They sat outside on the stoop, waiting to be called back in by their parents, who’d said they had things to discuss. Robertu had made himself scarce; she didn’t think he could have stood around to witness the agreement.
Lawrenz looked as sullen and disturbed as she felt. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said to him now.
He looked sideways at her. ‘For what?’
‘For our fathers’ decision that will ruin both our lives.’
He ran a hand through his thick, curly hair, and she noticed his arms were already covered with dark, thick hair too. She shuddered inwardly. He shrugged. ‘We have no choice.’
‘Maybe we can make a pact,’ she said.
‘To do what?’ Lawrenz’s voice had broken a while back and it was deep and gruff. Robertu’s still squeaked now and then as it tried to find its adult timbre.
‘To try and make this work.’
He looked at her, puzzled. ‘What other choice do we have?’
‘Well, we can choose to be as kind as we can to each other, or we can choose to fight and dislike being together. But that won’t change anything.’
His expression turned to something she couldn’t quite read. ‘You know they expect a child soon after we’re married.’
Another inward shudder. ‘Yes.’
‘Has anyone explained to you what that involves?’ He raised his brows at her, and she bristled.
‘Don’t talk down to me.’
‘Why not? I’ll own you soon enough.’
‘Lawrenz, let’s not set out this way. I can tell you’re as unhappy as I am about this.’
‘You’re right, I don’t want to marry you, but I’ll do what my father wants. By the way, I hate your hair. You look like a boy.’
She ignored him, although she didn’t disagree. ‘If we have no choice, then we have to help one another.’ She frowned. ‘Maybe one day we can learn to love each other.’
He sneered. ‘I don’t love anyone, Leni. And no one loves me.’
‘What do you me—’
‘Be quiet,’ he said, shutting her down. ‘You’ve always got something to say, don’t you? Well, I don’t want to hear it. We have to marry and that’s that. We’ll have children and spend our lives together and that’s that. Just accept it.’
‘But it doesn’t have to be—’
‘What? Miserable? I doubt we can be happy, because it’s obvious you detest me.’ He stood and kicked at a small piece of rubble, sending it skittering across the street. ‘But we’ll make our parents happy and I’ll enjoy you in other ways,’ he said, and then stomped away.
Valentina’s throat felt the choke of his threat but she was helpless. Now she was even more scared of what lay ahead for her.
EIGHT
‘You all right, old chap?’ one of Peter’s new colleagues asked him. After resting for a couple of days, he’d started his new post in the Fighter Control Room, where his role was to assist the Wing Commander, who liaised with the airfield.
Peter nodded, but his expression remained grim. ‘We lost two yesterday.’
The man looked down. ‘So I heard.’
