When the Dawn Breaks

by Emma Fraser

  Later, when she was in control of her emotions again, Isabel walked down to the ship’s hospital intent on finding Simon. She had cried for the last couple of hours until it seemed there were no tears left in her. Now she needed to know exactly what had happened to Andrew. While she had been in her cabin, the last of the injured had been loaded and the ship had set sail. It swayed from side to side and she had to clutch the railings to stay on her feet.

  From the hospital she was directed to a small lounge that had been set aside for the wounded officers. Simon was sitting at a table playing cards with his one hand. When he saw her he stood up and smiled wanly. ‘My dear girl, how are you?’ he asked.

  ‘I’ve been better. I want to ask about Andrew. I need to know what happened to him.’ She still couldn’t quite believe that her beautiful, kind, clever brother was dead.

  ‘Let’s go on deck,’ Simon said. ‘We can talk more freely there.’

  Isabel waited until they had found a quiet spot near the stern. The wind had risen once more, and all those left to find what shelter they could outside huddled under blankets.

  ‘Tell me everything,’ she said, ‘if you can bear to.’ The ship’s motion was making her queasy but she tried to ignore it.

  Simon stared out to sea. ‘When we first joined the RFC we were mainly flying reconnaissance sorties, finding out where the enemy was and reporting back, that sort of thing. Remember when we last met, I told you they’d put forward-facing guns on their planes?’ Isabel nodded. ‘It turned into a scourge. But over the last six months they put better guns on our kites and we started getting into dogfights with the Hun. We knew it was only a matter of time before we bought it.’

  She thought of Andrew’s eyes the last time she’d seen him. Even then he’d known.

  ‘Was Andrew … was he scared?’

  ‘We all were, but we didn’t show it. And Andrew loved flying. He was good at it too. Better than I was, much better.’

  ‘Go on,’ Isabel encouraged him, although her chest was tight with the effort of keeping back the tears.

  ‘We were up there, covering the Serbs’ retreat. Trying to make it as difficult for the Hun as possible. All we wanted to do was to keep them off for as long as possible. But there were too many German planes. I went after one and got him, but when I looked back, there was another on my tail. Andrew must have spotted him because he came out of the clouds and shot him down. Then he waved at me. I saw his face, Isabel – he was that close. He was grinning from ear to ear. But we weren’t paying attention. Another plane came from behind him. Andrew was still smiling when the other pilot shot him.’ Simon’s breath hitched. ‘If he hadn’t been looking out for me, he wouldn’t have died. It’s my fault he’s gone.’

  Isabel covered his hand with hers. ‘You mustn’t blame yourself. Andrew wouldn’t want you to. You were his friend. Remember that day near the beginning of the war when we met in Paris?’ Simon nodded. ‘He told me flying was as close to God as it got. He would have been glad he died when he was flying and glad that he’d saved you. He loved you like a brother.’

  ‘And I loved him. He was my world. My life. I don’t know what I’ll do without him.’ Then Simon started sobbing. Deep, racking sobs that tore through his body. She put her arms around him and held him, letting her tears mingle with his.

  In time, Simon’s sobs eased and he released her with an embarrassed laugh. ‘If my fellow officers could see me now, or learn how I truly felt about Andrew, they’d drum me out of the RFC.’

  ‘Your secret is safe with me. God knows I have enough of my own. Did Andrew ever discover that you loved him – er – in that way?’

  ‘No! He would have been horrified. He might even have pitied me and I couldn’t have borne that. If I could, I would have died in his place – and gladly. I would still die if it meant I could be with him.’

  ‘I think enough people have died, don’t you, Simon? And it wasn’t your fault. Andrew did what he believed he had to do.’

  They stood in silence for a while, watching the white curves of the waves.

  ‘What did you mean just now,’ Simon asked, ‘when you said that we all have secrets? I can’t imagine you having any. You’re far too sensible.’

  ‘I wish I was.’ Isabel hesitated. Why not share her troubles with Andrew’s friend? ‘Promise you won’t be shocked.’

  Simon laughed harshly. ‘I doubt there’s anything about you that’s more shocking than what you know about me.’

  ‘I’m going to have a baby.’

  Simon whistled between his teeth. ‘Good God, that is a surprise. May I assume there’s no husband?’ He held up his hands when Isabel raised an eyebrow. ‘I didn’t say I disapproved.’

  ‘I disapprove. And, more importantly, society will disapprove too.’ She shuddered. ‘I can’t say I’m looking forward to facing everyone, but I could live with that if it wasn’t for what it will do to Mama. She’s lost her darling son and now she’ll lose her place in society. She’ll have nothing.’

  ‘Any chance of marrying the father?’

  Isabel shook her head. ‘I suspect he’s dead.’ She closed her eyes as Archie’s image swam in front of her. To have found love with him only to lose him. If it weren’t for her baby, she didn’t know how she could bear it.

  Simon was quiet for a while. ‘How will you manage?’

  ‘I don’t know. I have no money and no way to make any – they’ll strike me off the medical register as soon as I tell them I’m to have a baby unmarried.’ She laughed shakily. ‘I’m afraid I shall be quite ruined.’

  ‘And, by association, Andrew’s memory will be tarnished too,’ Simon said. ‘I can’t allow it.’

  ‘I don’t see how it can be prevented.’

  Simon looked thoughtful. ‘There is a way,’ he said at last. ‘We could marry.’

  Isabel was so surprised that she laughed. ‘What? Us?’

  ‘Don’t you see? It makes sense. My brother Richard died at the battle of Loos and with both my brothers dead, I shall inherit the title. If I survive the war, that is. But given that it’s unlikely they’ll send me back to the front without an arm, especially as I can no longer fly, there’s every chance I’ll make it. Mama and Papa will expect me to marry. No doubt they already have a selection of debutantes lined up for me. It wouldn’t be fair for me to take a wife, not with me being the way I am, but I could marry you. I don’t even wish to know the name of the man whose child you’re carrying.’

  ‘But I don’t love you and you don’t love me.’ The very idea was out of the question.

  ‘Which makes it the perfect solution. You know what I am and you wouldn’t expect me in your bed. I see Andrew in your face, your mannerisms, in the way you smile. In you and your child, I’ll have a little bit of him always with me.’

  Isabel studied him. It was an absurd idea and yet … If they did marry she wouldn’t be shamed, she wouldn’t be struck off and her child wouldn’t be born illegitimate and despised.

  ‘You don’t have to give me your answer now,’ Simon continued, ‘but promise you’ll think about it. I’d be happy for you to carry on working as a doctor, as long as you were prepared to carry out the duties of Lady Maxwell when I needed you to. I’d acknowledge the child you’re carrying as mine, my heir if it’s a boy.’ He looked at her, his blue eyes alight. ‘At least think about it. We could ask the captain to marry us – I hear it’s been done before. Mama won’t be pleased,’ he shrugged, ‘but we could tell her we married in Paris, on the spur of the moment, before I went on one of my sorties. It would take her time to forgive me, but she would in the end.’

  It was madness. She’d be acting a part for the rest of her life … and if Archie were still alive…?

  Marrying Simon would put Archie out of her life for ever. Her heart shattered at the thought. If he were alive and came looking for her, would he understand why she’d done as she had? But what other choice did she have?

  There was one other person who knew she wa
s carrying Archie’s baby and that her marriage would be a sham – Jessie. Until she’d spoken to her, she couldn’t give Simon an answer.

  ‘I’ll think about it,’ she said. ‘You’ll have my answer as soon as I have one to give.’

  ‘Don’t think about it for too long. The ship docks tomorrow afternoon. If we’re to marry it has to be before then.’

  Jessie was dressing for dinner, shaking the dust out of her worn and tattered uniform, when Isabel came back to the cabin. For the first time in weeks, her cheeks had a healthy glow.

  ‘Is it breezy out there?’ Jessie asked. ‘We’ve been asked to join Captain Swift and his friend for dinner. As we separated them from their cabin, I didn’t feel I could say no.’

  ‘Jessie, there’s something I need to discuss with you.’

  She was instantly alarmed. ‘Are you feeling all right? Is it the baby?’ She ushered Isabel to the only chair in the cabin and sat her down.

  ‘Please don’t fuss. I’m fine. A little nauseous, perhaps, but, yes, it is about the baby.’

  There was something about the steely look in Isabel’s eyes that frightened Jessie. She had the certain feeling that whatever Isabel wanted to tell her she didn’t want to hear it. Nevertheless, she sat on the bunk, folded her hands in her lap and waited for her to continue.

  ‘I’ve had a proposal of marriage.’

  Whatever she’d expected to hear it wasn’t that.

  ‘Who from?’

  ‘Remember the wounded pilot? The one on the quayside? Simon Maxwell?’

  Something squeezed in Jessie’s chest. ‘You mean Lady Dorothea and Charles Maxwell’s brother. The brother of the man who…’ She bit her lip. ‘You can’t possibly be thinking of accepting him. Have you lost your mind?’

  Isabel leaned towards Jessie, her brown eyes glowing with a fervour Jessie hadn’t seen in a very long time. ‘Don’t you see? It’s the answer to everything.’

  ‘How can it be? How can you even think of marrying a man you don’t love? What about Archie? I thought you loved him.’

  ‘Archie may never return to us, Jessie. We have to accept that.’

  ‘No, we don’t. If Archie’s alive, he’ll find his way back to us. To you. To his child.’

  ‘But is he alive? I know Tommy managed to come back to you, but two miracles don’t happen in one lifetime. And even if, God willing, he’s a prisoner, it will be the end of the war before he’s released. I can’t wait that long.’

  Jessie pushed Isabel’s hands away and jumped to her feet. ‘Does Simon know you’re carrying the child of the man they believe murdered his brother?’

  ‘No, and he’s made it clear he doesn’t want to know who the father is. I told him he was dead.’

  ‘You’ll live the rest of your life as a lie. How can you even think of doing such a thing?’

  ‘I’ll do it because it’s the only thing to do. Simon knows I don’t love him.’

  ‘Then why does he wish to marry you? Isabel, think about this.’

  ‘I have no choice, Jessie. I can’t have a child out of wedlock and still practise as a doctor. My family’s reputation will be ruined, not just mine. It would kill my mother to be rejected by society. I’ll do everything I can to make Simon happy. I’ll be a faithful and loving wife to him. It’s all he asks.’

  Jessie couldn’t believe that Isabel meant what she was saying. ‘What if you’re wrong?’ she said quietly. ‘What if Archie’s alive and comes looking for you, only to find that you’re the wife of another man? Can you do that to him? Can you hurt him in that way?’

  ‘I can and I will, Jessie, because I must.’

  In the end, Jessie couldn’t dissuade Isabel from her course. But neither could she be a witness to a marriage she knew to be wrong. There was a coolness between them that Jessie knew would never leave. Isabel, as always, would have her way.

  She wanted to shout at her, to tell her the truth, that she had killed the brother of the man she was marrying, but her promise to Archie was unbreakable. And if Isabel was right, and Archie was dead, she knew he would have wanted Isabel to protect herself and their child in any way she could. Her brother had always been a fool for this woman and there was no reason to believe he would ever be anything else.

  By the time they landed at Dover, Isabel was Lady Maxwell and there was no going back.

  Isabel was waiting for her husband at the top of the gangway when Jessie saw her. She moved towards Jessie and held out her hand. ‘Please, Jessie, stay my friend. Try to understand why I’ve taken the course I have. I’ll bring my child to see you whenever I can, and perhaps you’ll visit us when we’re in Edinburgh.’

  Jessie wanted to turn her back on the woman she had come to think of as a friend but had caused so much trouble in her and Archie’s lives, but she knew she couldn’t. ‘Let me know when the child is born. Promise.’

  ‘I promise,’ Isabel replied, and then, as Simon Maxwell appeared at her side, she turned and went with him down the gangway.

  Chapter 52

  Edinburgh, 1919

  Jessie paused for a moment outside Craigleith poorhouse, or what was now the military hospital, and tucked a lock of her hair under her hat.

  The last years of the war had passed quickly. Isabel had written to say she had been safely delivered of a baby boy, and Jessie had been glad. It had helped her bear her sorrow when, finally, she’d heard from Archie.

  She fingered the letter in her pocket. He had asked that she forward it to Isabel, but the news it contained wasn’t the kind to be conveyed in writing.

  She had another letter with her, from Tommy. He didn’t want to see her. He told her to forget him, to forget they were ever married.

  Fear lay under the singing joy she felt that soon she would see her darling husband again. It had been almost five years since they’d last met, and if she’d changed so must he too. Could she convince him that they still belonged together?

  She pushed open the heavy oak doors. It was at once familiar and different. Nurses hurried everywhere, their starched skirts rustling, their immaculate collars and cuffs a glaring white that was impossible for the nurses working at the front to achieve.

  One stopped. ‘Can I help you?’

  She had that look, Jessie thought, the haughtiness, the certainty that she had seen in all the nurses when they had first gone to the front, a look that soon disappeared. She smiled. ‘I’ve come to see my husband, Corporal Tommy Stuart,’ she said mildly.

  ‘Visiting hours aren’t until four. I suggest you come back then.’

  Jessie’s smile widened. If this nurse, who couldn’t be more than eighteen, thought she was going to wait until then, she was very much mistaken. ‘I would like to see my husband immediately, Nurse.’

  Perhaps it was the tone of her voice, perhaps the nurse recognised authority, but the girl’s expression changed. Astonishment and awe crossed her face. ‘You’re one of the nurses who were out with the Scottish Women’s Hospitals.’

  Jessie cocked her head to one side. ‘Yes, I was. How do you know?’

  ‘From your medal.’

  In her excitement Jessie had forgotten she’d pinned it to the front of her jacket.

  ‘Gosh, wait until I tell the others! What was it like?’

  What was it like? How could she possibly explain, and even if she tried, how could this young woman even begin to understand? ‘It was thrilling,’ Jessie replied, ‘but, if you don’t mind, I’d like to see my husband now.’

  The nurse bobbed a curtsy. ‘Of course. Right away. I’ll just let Sister know.’

  Before Jessie could protest that she wasn’t interested in whether Sister wanted her on the ward or not, the nurse was gone. As she pushed open the internal doors, she stood back to let two doctors past. Jessie’s breath stopped in her throat.

  ‘Let me have your diagnosis and your suggestions for treatment, Dr Roberts, as soon as you’ve seen the patient. You will find me on the abdominal ward.’

  Isabel scribble
d something on a piece of paper, then looked up. Their gaze locked for what seemed an age but could only have been a moment. ‘My dear Jessie.’ She stepped forward. ‘How good to see you again. Are you here to visit Corporal Stuart? Forgive me – of course you are.’ She paused, her brown eyes anxious. Then she seemed to gather herself. ‘As I wrote to you, be prepared to find him changed. I told him you were coming so he’s expecting you. I’ll take you to him, shall I?’

  Jessie’s mouth had gone dry and she found she couldn’t speak. She nodded.

  ‘When you’ve seen him, we shall talk more. One of the nurses will bring you to my consulting room.’

  Yes, they would have to talk, although it wasn’t a conversation Jessie was looking forward to.

  She followed Isabel up a flight of stairs, past the fever ward where she had once worked. ‘Your husband has made a complete recovery. At least physically.’ Isabel paused with her hand on the banister. ‘He didn’t want us to tell you he was here, but of course we had to. He’s fit enough to go home. He’s on the convalescent ward for the time being.’

  Jessie still couldn’t speak.

  Isabel pushed open the door to the ward and Jessie accompanied her inside. The room was bathed with sunshine and the balcony doors were wide open to let the fresh air flood in. Jessie remembered the arguments she’d had with Sister about that in the past. The beds were arranged down the side, but they were empty. The patients, many with limbs missing, sat at tables playing cards or smoking, some with cumbersome false hands and legs. They looked up with mild interest as Jessie and Isabel passed.

  And then she saw him. He was in a chair on the balcony, slightly apart from the others, a blanket covering his missing legs. His eyes were closed as if he were sleeping.

  ‘I’ll leave you alone now,’ Isabel said softly, then withdrew.

  Jessie drank in the sight of him. His hair was longer than she remembered, a lock falling across his brow. His beloved face was still the same, and although there were lines around his eyes and mouth that hadn’t been there before, he was still her handsome Tommy. She moved towards his chair and touched him gently on the shoulder. ‘Tommy dear, it’s me, Jessie.’