An Uncertain Heart

by June Tate

  ‘That’s because we’ve waited so long. It’s been a terrible time, so many brave men lost, unnecessarily in my opinion, and that’s the saddest thing of all.’

  ‘It’ll seem very strange when eventually we do go home. It’ll take some time to settle into a new routine after so long.’

  ‘After my leave I’ll be back working in a London hospital, as you know, but what about you? Will you keep working?’

  She knew he was thinking of James.

  ‘I’m waiting until I get home before making any plans. At this moment we don’t know how much longer we’ll be here. When I’m on British soil for good, then I’ll make my decision.’

  As she walked back to her quarters, Helen wondered just what the future held for her. She was worried about James and hoped he was recovering mentally as well as physically. If he was riding, that was a good sign that physically things were going well, but the other was an unknown quantity. She’d just have to wait and see, and how long that would be she’d no idea.

  The news of the armistice was uppermost in everybody’s mind in Britain. The war, which had been supposed would be over that first Christmas, had seemed endless, and now it was all but signed and sealed. For so many it was remembered with deep sadness. Their brother, husband or son, buried somewhere in a foreign country. No grave to visit … no closure.

  The Havers family sat down to dinner that night to celebrate the news.

  ‘Only a few more days,’ said Edward ‘and the war will be officially over. I often wondered just how long we would have to wait for it.’

  James was quiet during the meal. In truth, sometimes he felt almost removed from it all having been home for a while, but on the odd occasion when he was alone, he had to admit he missed the camaraderie that wartime produced among the men and that night, unable to sleep, he made his way to the library.

  Edward had been working late on his papers and as he made for the stairs he saw a light under the doorway of the library and quietly opened the door. James was standing by the window, looking out at the garden bathed in moonlight. He walked over to him.

  ‘Everything alright, son?’

  ‘Everything is so quiet always, it keeps me awake,’ said James. ‘On the front line it was so noisy. The sound of artillery, the rattle of machine guns. Explosions. Here, nothing.’

  ‘What was it like, James?’

  ‘A mud bath most of the time. Up to your knees, in some dugouts. Rats running over your feet if you were standing, your body if you were sleeping. Uniforms riddled with lice.’ He paused. ‘The silence as you waited to go over the top. The waiting seemed endless, and when the time came and I blew my whistle, I knew I was taking some good men to their deaths.’ He paused and lit a cigarette. ‘Men have been killed when they were just beside me. A shot and they dropped – an explosion and their body parts covered you with blood as they were blasted into smithereens. They were my men. Men who fought beside me – who followed my orders to the letter … who died!’

  ‘That wasn’t your fault, James. You were following orders just like your men.’

  ‘But for what? In months we only covered five miles. Hundreds died for five bloody miles!’

  Edward was at a loss for words, but it was the first time James had spoken about the war and Helen had told him it would be good for him to open up about his experience, so he said nothing more.

  ‘You should have seen the dead horses, Dad. Lying by the roadside, bodies bloated, discarded … forgotten.’ His voice choked in his throat and Edward rested a hand on his son’s shoulder.

  James took a breath. ‘It was a living hell, if I’m honest, and I am lucky to survive.’

  ‘But survive you did! Now we have to get you back to full health.’

  James paused then looked at his father.

  ‘I’m not at all sure I’ll ever be back to full health, Dad. These nightmares could be part of the rest of my life. True, I’ve not lost a limb and I’m more than grateful for that, but how can I ask Helen to share my life if they continue? It wouldn’t be fair.’

  ‘It’s early days yet, James. You have to give it time. Anyway, you don’t know how long it will be before she comes home.’

  ‘That’s true. I imagine the hospital staff will have to stay on until all their patients are sent home. But it is a dilemma.’

  ‘Come along now. Let’s both try and get some rest. It’s very late.’

  But as Edward climbed into bed, he was concerned. It was obvious that James had suffered, as had all men who were sent to the battlefield, and the things he’d heard that night would live with his son for the rest of his life, to some degree, but if he was forever to be plagued with nightmares they surely would be injurious to his health, physically – and mentally. That was his main worry.

  For the men still fighting, it was a strange existence. They had only eleven days before the armistice was signed and the war ended, but the guns still fired, the Germans were still the enemy, and the soldiers were frustrated.

  ‘Don’t they know about the fucking armistice?’ one soldier asked loudly from the trenches. ‘It’s insane to keep on fighting, killing each other when soon we’ll all be going home.’

  ‘You just keep your bloody head down, or it’ll be you!’ he was told by his commanding officer. ‘I want to take all you miserable buggers home in one piece.’

  An exploding shell had them ducking as fragments flew in the air.

  ‘Keep those guns firing!’ the officer yelled. ‘We don’t want to have to haul them home. Send the shells to the bloody Boche. Make them keep their heads down!’

  But at last at eleven o’clock on the eleventh of November, the guns were finally silent. Men cheered, many shed tears. The officers were overcome with relief knowing that at long last they wouldn’t have to take men over the top to face their last moments. The rum ration was handed round. The sound of singing could be heard: ‘There’ll Always be an England’, and from the German trenches, their national anthem.

  In Rouen at the hospital, they too celebrated. Lists were made of those who were fit enough to be sent home as soon as arrangements could be made, another of those who would have to wait a while, but alas casualties were still arriving by ambulance. The final hours of the war were still claiming lives.

  Richard was reading his list of names of the lucky men who would be the first to be repatriated. He talked to them all that evening, telling those who were on the list the good news and commiserating with the others, but promising they wouldn’t have to wait too long before being sent to hospitals in England – when they were fit enough to travel, to finish their recovery and convalescence, but at least they’d be on home soil and maybe in a place where their family could visit.

  He sat back in his chair and drank a glass of whisky. He’d soon be home too, returning to his house and wife. He lit a cigar someone had given him and, blowing out smoke circles, contemplated living a more normal life as a husband in situ. His last leave was six months ago. It had seemed very strange, going to the club, meeting old friends, sleeping with his wife whilst having an affair with Helen. But that was over now. Helen would also be going home … to James Havers. Although he had used every bit of knowledge and skill he had to save the man’s life, he was still irritated to think that James had been the one to come between them.

  Sitting back, he closed his eyes, remembering how it had been with Helen. He could still feel the softness of her flesh, the rise of her breasts, the way she kissed and her cries of delight and passion as he made love to her. He felt himself harden at his memories. God, he wished she were here at this moment!

  A tap on his door brought him back to the present.

  ‘Enter!’

  A sergeant handed him a file. ‘Here are the dates and train times plus the list of men to be sent home, sir.’

  ‘Thanks, Sergeant, put them on the table, please.’ He took another swig from the glass and picked up the file.

  Chapter Eleven

  In London the end o
f the war brought thousands out onto the streets. Lloyd George appeared on the steps of 10 Downing Street to talk to the public who’d gathered there. King George V and Queen Mary appeared on the balcony of Buckingham Palace, waving to the crowds. There was dancing in the streets. Church bells rang out. Folk laughed and cried and the sense of relief was palpable.

  In Cheltenham at Gately Manor, friends of the Havers gathered to celebrate in the living room.

  Edward picked up a bottle of champagne and handed another to a friend to open, but as the corks exploded, James let out a cry and flung himself upon the floor, curling up in the foetal position, covering his head with his hands – to the astonishment of the guests. There was immediate silence.

  Edward rushed forward and held his son.

  ‘James, it’s alright. It isn’t the guns, only champagne corks. You’re quite safe.’

  Frances stood rigid with shock as James was helped to his feet. He looked around, muttered an apology and walked out of the room.

  Edward looked at his guests. ‘It’s the war, you see.’ Then he went in search of his son.

  James was sitting on his bed, hands held to his head.

  ‘Are you alright, my boy?’ asked his father.

  ‘God, Dad! How embarrassing. I’m so sorry.’

  Edward dismissed his words. ‘Nonsense! Not one man in that room has seen what you have, but they’ll understand. I’m not in the least embarrassed and neither should you be.’

  James just shook his head. ‘But that could happen at any time, anywhere.’ He looked at his father. ‘How am I going to cope with that?’

  Edward sat beside him. ‘You are expecting too much too soon, James. It’s early days yet. Just be patient.’

  ‘Go back to your guests, Dad. I’m fine now, honestly. I just need to be on my own for a bit.’

  His father left him, somewhat reluctantly.

  Getting to his feet, James slipped out of the house and wandered over to the stables and over to Cleo’s stall. He stroked the horse’s nose.

  ‘Well that was a bloody mess,’ he said. ‘I can’t imagine what those people will have thought. I felt such a fool, Cleo. They’ll think I’ve lost my mind.’

  The horse nestled her head against him as if sensing his distress.

  ‘Fancy a ride out? I need to get away, so I’ll get a saddle and we’ll escape together.’

  Glancing out of the living-room window, Edward saw James riding out of the gate and smiled softly. Thank God for that bloody horse, he thought. It was the only thing at the moment that seemed to give his son some peace of mind.

  It was a further two months before the last of the patients in the hospital were shipped home, with their medical files to hand over to the hospital in England where they would continue their treatment. A few of the staff stayed behind to pack other files and equipment until they too were finally ready to leave the following morning.

  Richard had invited Helen to go out to a nearby hotel for a final meal together and she’d accepted. She changed out of her uniform and put on a gown, wondering if she would decide to continue with her career or become a civilian in the near future. Nursing had been her life but the war had affected her. She was sick of blood, injuries and death and felt the need for a change. After her leave she would have to make a decision, but for this evening, she’d put such thoughts aside.

  The meal was good and the wine palatable. It seemed that, for once, Richard had put aside his thoughts of work too. He was as charming as she remembered when first they had met, outside of the operating theatre. Here before her was the man who she’d taken to her bed and she could see why that had happened as they talked about the old days.

  ‘I hope you don’t have any regrets about our relationship, Helen?’

  ‘No, of course not, why would I? I knew what I was doing. I didn’t feel that I was encroaching on your marriage, it was of the moment and that was all. At the time, Richard, we needed each other in that way as well as professionally. No, I’ll never regret it.’

  He smiled softly at her. ‘That makes me very happy. I don’t have any regrets either, and I thank you from my heart for those intimate moments.’

  She looked into his eyes, knowing that all she’d have to do was invite him back into her bed for the last time, but that was in the past as far as she was concerned and she changed the subject.

  ‘I can’t wait to be back in the Cotswolds with my family. Then I’ll have to make a decision whether to stay in nursing or leave to do something else.’

  This surprised him. ‘You’d give up nursing?’

  ‘I’ve given it some thought. Oh, Richard, I am so sick of seeing broken bodies, I feel I want to do something entirely different.’

  ‘You may change your mind after some leave. You’re a brilliant theatre sister, it would be a pity to waste that talent.’

  They then talked about travelling home with other staff members, first by train and then by sea across the English Channel. It would seem a strange journey leaving a battered war zone now at peace, for a quiet English countryside. It would be with mixed emotions for all.

  After dinner they walked back to the hospital and Richard escorted her to her room and waited for her to unlock the door.

  She did so and turned to him. ‘I still have a few things to pack, so I’ll see you in the morning.’ She saw the disappointment in his eyes.

  He caught hold of her and pulled her close. ‘Take care, Helen. I hope you find what you’re seeking.’ Then he kissed her hard and long before letting her go and walking away.

  Thirty-six hours later, Helen arrived at Evesham Station and took a taxi to her home. She’d not told her parents of her impending arrival, being uncertain of the time. She knocked on the door and waited.

  Her mother opened the door and let out a cry of surprise when she saw who was standing there.

  ‘Helen! Darling, how wonderful. Come in. Henry! It’s Helen, she’s home.’

  Her father came hurrying down the hall and embraced her.

  ‘Why didn’t you let us know?’ he asked.

  ‘I wasn’t sure of any times so I thought I’d just turn up.’

  She was ushered into the living room, hugged and kissed and then Margaret disappeared to make a cup of tea.

  ‘How are you, my dear?’ asked her father.

  ‘Tired, but so pleased to be home, Dad. You look well.’

  ‘Oh, I’m alright. How long are you home for?’

  ‘I have a month’s leave and I’m going to enjoy every minute.’

  ‘And then what?’

  ‘Then? Well I don’t know. I have a few decisions to make.’

  Her mother came bustling in with a tray of tea and some home-made scones.

  ‘Here, this will freshen you after such a tedious journey.’

  They sat chatting and then Helen said she wanted to unpack, take a bath, put on some fresh clothes and call James. Her parents left her alone to do so.

  Two hours later, Helen dialled the number of Gately Manor and asked to speak to James.

  ‘Helen! Is that really you?’ asked an excited voice on the other end of the line.

  ‘Yes, it’s me. I arrived home a couple of hours ago. How are you?’

  ‘I’m fine. Oh my God! It’s so good to hear your voice. When can I see you?’

  ‘Give me a couple of days and I’ll call you and arrange a meet then.’

  ‘That’ll be wonderful but please don’t leave it any longer or I may have a relapse and it’ll be your fault!’

  Laughing she said, ‘I promise.’

  ‘Come for a couple of days, why don’t you? It will give us time to catch up.’

  She agreed.

  Two days later, Helen alighted from her train at Cheltenham station to see James standing on the platform waiting. Grinning broadly as she climbed down, he gathered her into his arms and kissed her.

  ‘Oh my God! You don’t know how good that felt!’

  She looked up at him and said, ‘Well I enjoyed
it too.’

  ‘Then let’s do it again,’ he said and kissed her passionately, not caring about the other passengers on the platform. Then he walked her outside to the car.

  ‘You’re driving this now?’ she asked.

  ‘Oh yes. Dad lets me use it when I need to.’

  As they drove, Helen looked at the man beside her. She was delighted to see that he looked well and she’d noticed he was now walking properly too.

  James caught her by the hand and squeezed it. ‘You have no idea how happy it makes me to see you here beside me.’

  ‘I’m happy to see you too, but don’t you think two hands on the wheel would be safer?’ she teased.

  ‘Oh, you’re no fun,’ he retorted as he let go.

  ‘How’s Cleo?’ she asked.

  ‘Cleo is the only thing keeping me sane,’ he said. ‘If I didn’t have her to ride out on I think I’d go quietly mad, and Miss Millie is just waiting for you to take your first ride on her. I’ve been breaking her in and now she’s ready.’

  ‘Well, let’s not rush things,’ Helen said hastily.

  ‘Don’t worry, darling, I won’t push you until you’re ready. Ah, here we are. My parents are anxious to see you again.’

  Edward and Frances greeted her warmly as she entered the living room.

  ‘How are you, Helen?’ Edward asked. ‘You look well enough.’

  ‘I’m just a bit tired after packing up the hospital and getting home, but a good meal and a couple of nights’ sleep does wonders.’

  They chatted for a short while, then James stated that he was taking Helen to the stables and for a walk round the garden as they had some catching up to do.

  It was a bright, crisp January day with still a layer of snow left from a downfall a week ago. But the air was fresh, the skies clear as they made their way to the stables, and it pleased Helen to see that James was no longer in need of walking sticks.