As she cleared away the old dirty mattered dressing, and said goodbye to the Corporal, she noticed Jack shuffling around his bed with his pyjama top wide open, plucking at his blankets. He was moving so much better. He still had a limp and no memory of her. But apart from that, he seemed to be doing fine. She didn’t want to go over there. She was still in a tizzy about that rose, so she turned a blind eye. That was until Sister Mary barged by her, tutting.
“Jack Montgomery, get back into that bed now,” she yapped.
“I’m going to find a bathroom, so I can have a wash and shave,” he said firmly.
“Eleanor,” Sister Mary called.
Nell hadn’t moved quickly enough. And now, she was facing the supply room door with her eyes closed tight.
“Eleanor,” she barked again.
Nell plonked the kidney dish onto the nearest trolley, and made her way across to Sister Mary.
“Bloody hell, all I want is a shave… I blooming reek to high heavens I do.” He rubbed his stubble. “Or do I have to be subjected to a bed bath?” His eyes absorbed Nell. She flushed, and promptly shifted her view away from him.
“Eleanor, you will give Jack a shave,” Sister Mary ordered.
Nell’s face drained of all blood, apart from her cheeks that glowed like fire. She began to pant and mumble in panic as Sister Mary scowled, puzzled by her odd behaviour. Jack looked on with a high brow, because he thought her reaction slightly over the top.
“Sister, it’s fine,” Jack said, hoping Nell would calm down. “I’ll wait.”
“No. Eleanor, there’s a bowl of boiled water, cream, brush and blade, on that trolley,” she pointed to the bed next to Jack’s. “Come on, chop-chop,” she clapped in Nell’s face.
“Sister, I… I can’t,” Nell uttered under her breath, though it was pointless because Jack heard every word.
“Do your job Eleanor.” Sister Mary thundered back toward her desk.
Jack bit his cheek and mouthed the word sorry. Her lips puckered to the side, accepting his apology. She accepted it even though he didn’t need to offer one. She knew she had to shake off her feelings for him and do what Sister Mary said. Her job.
She heaved a painful breath with her head down and approached the toiletries on the trolley. She wheeled it next to Jack’s bed, then closed the screen as he sat on the edge of the mattress. He took hold of the small square mirror, and positioned it so he could see himself.
“Sit down,” he ordered. “You’re not going to shave my face,” he said, certain. “I’m quite capable of doing it myself.”
Completely forgetting about her rib, she flopped down into the cream plastic moulded chair on the opposite side of the bed, wincing loudly.
“What is it?” Jack turned while removing his shirt.
“Nothing,” she blushed, trying not to take in his physique; to become spellbound by him like she once was.
“Well, kick off your shoes then,” he smiled, turning back to the mirror.
It was impossible for Nell not to stare timidly at the body of the man she once laid with. He was still so fine. In fact, he had filled out more. The sweet memories of that wonderful night teemed through her blood and made her heart pound wildly. These intense thoughts were something she wasn’t used to, and she felt like a sinner for allowing them to take her senses.
She watched as he frothed up the cream, and in circular motions brush it on his stubble. She drew in a huge lungful of nervous air, wondering how he could not remember their time together. It was a powerful memory that was made for sharing. One only she could now recall alone.
She had thought about retuning the journal to him. She thought perhaps he wouldn’t remember her. But that last paragraph he wrote, prevented her from doing so. He had been through so much. She put him through it. He wanted to start afresh, and in her eyes he deserved to be happy. He deserved all the happiness in the world.
“So, you find anything interesting today,” he asked, scrapping the blade up over his rough chin.
Nell gawped at his reflection as he swilled the razor in the bowl of water. “You really shouldn’t be wandering around in the middle of the night,” she said. “Sister Mary would have a fit if she found out.”
“A thank you Jack, would have been better.”
He wiped the blade on a towel, staring with eyes she knew too well. The same eyes he made at her in the farmhouse, before carrying her to bed.
“Well, you shouldn’t be giving flowers to a married woman either.” She looked away. “It’s not appropriate.”
He hummed, grazing the blade up below his sideburn. “Does a Son not give flowers to his mother; a Father to his daughter; a Brother to his sister. It doesn’t have a motive other than a thank you.” He swirled the razor in the bowl.
Nell huffed. “Well… thank you.”
“Besides, I’ll be leaving this Wednesday coming. And I wanted you to know I appreciate what you’ve done for me, before they start to scramble around inside my brain,” he grinned. “No more roses… promise.”
One single handpicked rose, had more sentimental value to Nell than all the lavish sprays Alistair had ever given to her. But she couldn’t tell Jack this. It was important she act ungrateful.
Nell and Jack both found their eyes endlessly stealing glances. Jack’s feelings toward Nell had grown out of control, and it was something he couldn’t rid. A connection of some sort he found hard to understand. Though he would never let on his fiery feelings for her. The continual brief glances made for an awkward atmosphere behind that screen, and as he removed his view again from the task at hand, the blade slipped and sliced the tip his right earlobe. He cursed out loud, quickly pressing the facecloth to his skin to stop the bleed.
Nell hurried around the bed, sat down beside him, and took hold of the towel. With care she lifted it away to inspect the cut. Jack blinked slow, inhaling a breath of her secretly.
“It’s just a small nick.” She wiped away the tiny bulb of blood. “Here, let me finish you off.” Her nursing skills took over.
Jack quietly handed over the razor, and lifted his chin so Nell could reach the last few rough patches under there. He watched her deep concentration intently and swallowed down the urge to blurt out his feelings.
“Jack,” she snapped. “I can’t do this if you don’t keep still.” He smiled at her bossiness. “Jack!”
“Sorry,” he composed himself and sat perfectly still.
The heavy air between Nell and Jack became crushing as she finished shaving away the last few whiskers on his jaw. There was a deafening silence, regardless of the commotion on the ward. Nell let out a sigh at the same moment Jack did. She washed the blade, then dabbed down his clean soft skin. As she moved the towel up to his cheek, the sleeve of her cardigan rose to reveal Alistair’s dark fingerprints on her forearm. Jack clamped down his jaw in unease, and gently brought her hand down. He looked at the bruising, then to her. She quickly pulled her arm away to re-cover her secret hurt.
“Your husband. That’s why you don’t say much about him.”
Nell remained mute and frantically began to tidy the trolley. She stood up, only to find Jack’s hand tenderly gripping hers.
“Please don’t.” She held back the tears.
Jack rolled the trolley to the side so he could stand up. He faced her directly as her head fell to her chest. She wanted to remove her hand from his, but his touch was so comforting to her.
“A man should never lay a hand on his wife in anger,” he said softly. “I don’t understand why you’d let him do it to you.”
Nell sobbed soundlessly. Jack placed his fingers under her chin and lifted her desolate eyes to his. A moment was born in which they both became lost to each other. Jack wiped her cheek with his thumb and gulped loud.
“Don’t Jack,” she whimpered.
Jack didn’t listen. He didn’t care about how absent his mind was, or that Nell was married. All he wanted right there and then, was to kiss her. He angled down and let hi
s lips brush against hers. Nell shut her eyes with teardrops escaping through her lashes, feeling the pleasure and pain of his touch. She couldn’t do it, no matter how much she wanted to. She placed the palms of her hands on his warm firm bare chest and pushed away. He gazed down at her affectionately, and she responded by running away. He hung his head in shame. It was a few second of perfect madness, and he feared because of it, she wouldn’t want to see him ever again.
Nell dashed through the noisy ward and into the cloakroom. She grabbed her bag and coat. All the paths laid out that she could take, were all conflicting and precarious. She knew there was only one way now. One way she wouldn’t be hurt, or hurt others. She had to create a new path for herself, far away from her past.
Starting Over
This time it wasn’t her father or Alistair calling the shots. This time, it was Nell using her own mind. Jack was spending his last night on the ward, before he would be traveling to Oxford for specialist treatment, as Nell prepared to leave her past behind her for good. For three days she played ill and had not gone into work. After that kiss, she couldn’t bear the thought of seeing him again. The guilt over the secret she kept from him was pure torture. She even had Alistair fooled, and not once had he laid a hand on her. Lady problems he thought she suffered. And Nell kept up the act until that very morning, before he left for his trip to meet his superiors. Two days he would be gone for, and so would Nell. Far away to the village of Eardisland, Herefordshire. Where she would try and start to rebuild a life for herself.
She gazed out of her bedroom window and across the river as the sun broke through the clouds. She unravelled and tied half a yard of string around Jack’s brown paper covered journal. Her intentions were to post it back to him when she got settled. She was hoping, that with her out of the picture, he wouldn’t put two and two together, and think of her as devious. He wouldn’t remember her at all. Keeping it would only plague her with guilt, and she required a clear head to start afresh.
She placed the journal on her bed, and pulled out her small brown suitcase which she packed the previous night. She was taking only the essentials, and purposely packed only the clothing she had purchased. Anything and everything that belonged to Alistair, would be left behind.
In some ways she felt sad. It wasn’t that she loved Alistair, or cared for him even. But there was a shameful streak she was still burdened with that it was all her fault, which spanned from the years of abuse. She thought, maybe if they had gone their different ways, married the right person, then they both would be completely different people. However, there was also a feeling of independence growing inside her. She was eager to find out who she really was.
Yesterday afternoon, while Alistair was at work, she met with her solicitor, Mr Harp. Of course his advice was to be expected. Do not seek to divorce. It is a lengthy, expensive, time consuming matter, which could all be resolved with sessions of marriage guidance. ‘Our country needs to stay strong and united,’ he said to her. Nell held her ground though. And for the first time, she put her foot down with a dictatorial man, and told him outright. She gave him a letter which she wanted to be hand delivered to Alistair after her departure. A formal goodbye, stating she wanted nothing from him but her freedom. He is not to try and seek her out, or contact her. He is to live his life and find happiness. After four years of marriage, she wasn’t sure if he would comply with her demands. For that is what they were, and never did she make any demands of him. She learned fast not to.
Nell made sure she looked fashionable for her impending arrival in Eardisland. She wanted to make a good first impression. She wanted her new life to begin with the feeling of conviction. Dressed in her short sleeve cream cashmere jumper, and high waist green pleated skirt. Her fine dark hair falling down her back, with rolls in the front. She felt as poised as she did before any man entered her life.
Butterflies began to flutter in her chest as she carried her case down the polished wooden staircase. As she propped it against the wall by the coat-stand, the doorbell chimed, making her jump a step back, breathless. She wasn’t expecting any visitors.
She tweaked the net across the glass panel, to see Teresa stood outside in her red beret and jacket, with wide impatient eyes. Nell groaned and opened the door. She didn’t want anyone trying to change her mind. That was the reason she never told Teresa in the first place.
“Nell,” she barged through angrily. “What is going on? I haven’t heard a bean from you in days.” She removed her white lace gloves, plucking out one finger at a time. “Did he hurt you again?” Teresa’s eyes found Nell’s suitcase. “You’re leaving him aren’t you?”
Nell didn’t answer. She stood like a bunny in headlights, confused by which question to answer first.
“Nell!” Teresa prodded her arm.
“Yes.” Nell yapped
“And Jack?”
Nell looked down at her green peep toe wedges. “What about him?”
“He’s leaving tomorrow Nell, and he’s been asking about you… constantly.”
“I can’t see him again Teresa. It will just mess everything up.”
“Have you got somewhere to stay? I really would like you to stay with me Nell… don’t leave me in this hole alone,” she sulked.
“I’m going to Herefordshire,” Nell replied. “I’ve rented a cottage up there.”
Teresa’s jaw opened wide and her eyes nearly fall out of their sockets. “I’m sorry, I thought you said Herefordshire,” she laughed sarcastically. “That’s only like a thousand miles away Nell.”
Nell blew out and shook her head. To go Teresa’s exaggerated thousand miles, would be even better for her. But Eardisland was only a mere two hundred miles away.
“I have to, and I don’t want you telling a soul Teresa… promise me.”
“You can’t go. I won’t let you.”
Nell knew exactly what she had to do, and no one, not even her good friend, was going to stop her. Her eyes reeled. She had to show Teresa this was her only way out. She pulled her jumper out from her slim belt, to reveal her midriff and the extensive bruising that had now turned yellow.
“Oh god… Nell,” Teresa gasped, arching over to look at it.
“I have to. One day, he will kill me.”
Teresa began to sob. She yanked Nell into her arms and wept on her shoulder. “I never realised it was so bad Nell,” she spluttered. “The bastard.”
Nell pulled away and smiled. “I’m okay. I think. Look, I need you to do something for me.”
Nell unzipped her case and took out Jack’s journal. She ran her hand over it one last time, taking a brave breath.
“I need you to give this to Jack for me.” Nell placed the journal into Teresa’s hands. “It’s important. Something I took, and shouldn’t have.”
“Why don’t you give it to him yourself?”
“I want him to get better without me messing things up this time,” Nell insisted. “I’ve done some awful things to him, and I shouldn’t be anywhere near him. So please, just do this.”
“What do I say to him?”
“Tell him you found it with his belongings in the laundry room or something.” Teresa gave Nell another long squeeze, refusing to let go. “When I’m settled, I’ll write to you.”
Nell and Teresa parted ways. Now she was ready. She took one last look around the unhappy home she shared with Alistair, picked up her case, and closed the front door on her past to begin a brand new chapter.
Jack’s Recollection
Last night Jack suffered another terrible nightmare. His only memories were of violence, horror, and that fraught kiss. He kept these night terrors to himself. Still he had that strong military resolve, and wouldn’t want to be seen as weak or incompetent in dealing with such a little matter of a bad dream. He watched men lose limbs, sight, and their desire to live, fighting in the war. He wasn’t going to mope around. He needed to put a brave front on in his situation. This was one of the reasons he was drawn to Eleanor. She gav
e him something other than destruction to think about. New things. Pleasant things. With her gone, the nights had darkened a little, and the horrors in his mind heightened.
He felt ashamed of his actions, kissing a married woman when she was obviously fighting her own personal battle. There was also a feeling of loathing. And when he saw those bruises on her arms, he wanted to leave that hospital to go and find the man that did it to her. But he soon came to realise, it wasn’t his place to interfere in the marital issues that she had to bear. Like she said, it was none of his business. Though, it didn’t stop that intense fury in his stomach, and a deep worry he couldn’t shake off. He had grown to care for her for some bizarre reason, and he knew it had to stop.
Jack wouldn’t be going alone to the university in oxford, which deals specifically with amnesia victims. There were many who suffered this hidden damage during combat. Some were able to cope and remain positive, like Jack. And some were not so fortunate. Poor men who were so beyond help, they had to be drugged and restrained. Jack saw himself as blessed. He did have an identity to seek. He knew his name, where he came from, and was even told the names of his parents and three Brothers. He wasn’t some vegetable sat drooling in a wheelchair. He was fully aware, mobile now, and determined to fix himself.
As he waited, dressed in his freshly laundered military uniform for his admittance papers, he saw Teresa hurrying toward him, holding a large brown paper bag. He smiled at her, but didn’t receive one in return. She was clearly upset by something. She had swollen eyes and her make-up had smudged around her eyelashes.
“Jack, these are some of your personal belongings you came in with.” She placed the bag on the bed next to him. “Our transport will be here in one hour.” She quickly turned to walk away.
“Teresa,” Jack called after her. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes.” She moved with speed and disappeared into the storeroom.
Sister Mary ladled broth out from a big pan in the middle of the ward, as hungry soldiers gathered to take their lunch. Jack wasn’t hungry. All he wanted, was to leave that hospital and get some air. There had been a delay with the bus; a collision he was informed. So, to pass time, he rummaged through his personal belongings.
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