Fraser's Line by Monica Carly

such spirit in you, and yet a vulnerability as well. I wanted to take you in my arms then and promise to look after you.’
    ‘You might never have seen me again.’
‘I had to make sure I did. So I’m afraid I resorted to a little trick, and now I feel so bad, because I want only to be completely honest with you.’
    ‘A trick? Oh, I know – the jam! So that wasn’t true at all, about trying it out?’
    ‘No, I’m so sorry. I couldn’t think of anything else at the time. Please say you forgive me. I was desperate to have you come back.’
    ‘Of course I do, silly. It worked, as you know. Anyway, I had to take a firm grip on myself or I would have run back to your shop the very next day! I think if you hadn’t done your jam trick I would have thought up some reason to come, like making the cake.’
    ‘Ah yes,’ he said, ‘the cake. I had to marry you after that – it was so delicious. But please tell me when you knew, and, if I may ask, why did you want to come back?’
    ‘I knew that very first day,’ she said. ‘It was like a bolt from the blue. I was bowled over.’
    ‘I think, my dearest one, that was not me. That was the small boy.’
    ‘You were so kind – and you had such lovely eyes, and attractive smile – I thought I had never met anyone who was so handsome.’
    ‘Now I am blushing,’ he said. And they laughed and held each other closer.
    When it was time to go back she went to live in his house, having given up her little rented room. He said she was welcome to do whatever she would like to make it more homely, and she happily set about adding some feminine touches, such as curtains and rugs, and some pictures and ornaments. To begin with she tried to continue nursing, but she found her heart was not in it in quite the same way, and in any case, within four months she knew she was pregnant.
    When Fraser was born Allan was so overjoyed he could not stop beaming. He had been concerned throughout her pregnancy, and especially when she went into labour, and had given her all the support he could. In those days fathers were not at all welcomed during the birth, but the minute he was allowed to he rushed to her side and held her, tears of relief and joy on his face. Then he turned to look at his son.
    ‘He’s wonderful!’ he said. ‘May I pick him up?’ He cradled the tiny baby and could not speak for a moment – his happiness and pride were boundless.
    ‘What shall we call him?’ he asked.
    ‘Please, Allan, may we call him Fraser? I have always loved the name. And his second name must be Allan.’
‘It shall be just as you like,’ he said. ‘Fraser is a very distinguished name. I am sure with that name my son will grow up to be a brilliant surgeon.’
    ‘Oh, I thought it was a rather cosy and comfortable name,’ she said, ‘rather like an old slipper.’
    ‘Now I am confused – I do not know whether he is to become a surgeon or a slipper!’
    ‘Perhaps we don’t need to worry – he will probably choose for himself. But, whatever it is, with a father like you he is bound to become a very fine man.’
    ‘And he will be so proud when he finds out what a beautiful and wonderful mother he has.’
    He had been a good father. He shared in all that had to be done far more than was usual. He would change nappies, and bath the baby, and when the pains of teething transformed the once placid infant into a bundle of screaming rage he would pace round the room with him on his shoulder, talking soothingly and sometimes singing little songs – some in Polish, which he dimly remembered.
    Eighteen months later Margaret was born.
    ‘Now,’ he said, ‘we are a complete family. What a clever wife I have – and so beautiful, even though she has had to go through all this twice.’
    She thought she had no right to be so happy – to be loved, and cherished all the time was almost too good to be true. It seemed nothing could mar this bliss.
    But the jackboots had begun to march across Europe.