A Last Goodbye

by Dee Yates

  ‘That’s us telled,’ Ellen said with a laugh. ‘I’ll take Netta into the waiting room. You find us there when you’re ready.’

  Fifteen minutes later the door opened. He was not alone.

  ‘Here she is. Here’s my little girl.’ Tom stooped down and picked up Netta.

  ‘Hello, Ellen.’ It was Clara who stood behind Tom. ‘How lovely to see you again. And this is Netta. I would never have recognised her. She’s grown a bit since I held her in my arms. She’s got your looks, Tom – the same dark hair and determined mouth at any rate.’

  Tom blushed with pride, and ruffled Netta’s unruly hair.

  ‘And how are you, Ellen? Are you keeping well?’

  ‘Aye, well enough, thank you. And yoursel’? You’re a proper doctor now then?’

  ‘Yes, a proper doctor now. And I don’t mind admitting you gave me quite a scare when I saw you last, but all’s well that ends well,’ she concluded, laying a hand on Netta’s dark hair.

  Ellen nodded but said nothing.

  ‘Let’s hope that, if you have another, it’s less of a surprise.’

  ‘But I am having another. And I lost one in between. I’m surprised Tom didn’t tell you.’

  Tom felt his anger rise. ‘Clara’s got more to do than listen to all our problems.’ He turned to Clara. ‘I were away at the front when she lost the babby. And this one, well, I’ve hardly been at home since I got back, so there’s been no time to even think about it.’

  ‘No, indeed. Still, you can go home now and have some time together. Hopefully there should be no further problems.’

  ‘And what I said to you earlier?’ Tom asked.

  ‘What was that, Tom?’

  ‘About you paying us a visit. You will come, won’t you?’

  ‘I promise… though it won’t be for a while. I have to complete my house officer posts. At the moment I have very little time off, even to sleep.’

  Clara opened the door and the family made their way to the exit. Tom held out his hand and shook Clara’s, before pulling her towards him in order to plant a kiss on her cheek. The doctor jerked back and then, to cover any embarrassment, bent down and kissed the top of Netta’s head.

  ‘Goodbye, little one. I promise to come and see you one day. And perhaps then,’ she concluded, looking at Ellen. ‘you will have a second baby for me to coo over!’

  Tom hid his frustration over the disappointing farewell by setting off along the street at a pace that his newly mended leg found difficult to sustain. He arrived at the station bad-tempered and ill-at-ease with his wife, his child and, most of all, himself.

  Throughout the slow journey through the outskirts of Glasgow, Tom’s temper did not improve. Although he had determined while in the hospital that he would give his wife every consideration on his return, her listlessness and down-at-heel appearance annoyed him. In his mind he still carried the attractive and intelligent image of Clara. Back in the cottage his irritation spilled over into angry words.

  ‘What’s the matter, woman? Aren’t you glad to see me home?’ he shouted at her when she silently got up from the table and began to clear the dishes.

  Duncan looked up sharply. ‘Dinnae shout at the lass. It’s been hard for her too, ken. This war’s taking its toll on us all, not just those at the front line.’

  ‘Aye, but I think those of us who’ve been at the front line deserve a little more consideration than they’re getting at the moment.’ Tom stared at his wife’s back as she poured water into the teapot. She said nothing, but when he saw her hand trembling as she placed his mug of tea on the table, he suddenly felt guilty and covered her hand with his own. She snatched it away.

  ‘At least you’re here. There’s Iain Murdie dead and now his father has died too, of a broken heart.’

  ‘I’m sorry, lass. I weren’t thinking. Come and sit down a minute and drink your tea. I’ll help you put Netta to bed.’

  ‘Aye. That would be good. And she would like her daddy to read her a bedtime story. It’ll give me time to wash the dishes and tidy up. Then I think we all need an early night after the day we’ve had.’

  *

  A letter for Tom arrived three weeks after his return home from the hospital. He was requested to attend a tribunal at Company Headquarters in two days’ time to reassess his fitness for active service. He stared at the letter in dismay that quickly escalated into a sickening dread. He had hoped that the considerable disability he had suffered would render him unfit to be returned to the front and that he would be allowed to live out the rest of the war in the peace of the farm. He folded the letter quickly and stuffed it into his pocket.

  His leg had healed well with the help of the staff of the Royal Infirmary, and his daily walks were beginning to relieve the stiffness and pain. In a few days’ time lambing would start and he had been hoping to do his share of the extra work. With rising anger, he trudged across the field behind the cottage and set off up the hill to his favourite vantage point. In his heart of hearts, he knew what the outcome of his interview would be. There was no escaping his duty. Men with worse injuries than his had been returned to the front.

  His anger was made the greater by the knowledge of Clara’s promise to visit, and the probability now of his not being there to see her. The thought of it had lessened the loneliness he had felt since his departure from the hospital. There, she had been a daily visitor to his bedside and no one knew how hard it was for him to live without her now.

  He sat until dusk began to blur his vision. Thinking he ought to move, still he sat, until the dog let out a short bark and wagged her tail. Looking down the slope, he could see a figure slowly approaching. When it drew near, he recognised his wife.

  ‘Thank goodness,’ she said breathlessly. ‘I was beginning to worry that you had took badly with your leg. What are you doing up here so late?’

  ‘I’ve been walking. Getting strong again, as I’m meant to do.’

  Ellen glanced at him warily. ‘I only asked because I’m worried about you.’

  ‘Well, don’t be. I can look after myself. Any road, why are you up here. Aren’t you supposed to be looking after our child?’

  ‘Father’s taken her to visit Margaret. They’re not back yet.’

  He followed her gaze along the valley. ‘She’ll be all alone then now, will Margaret Murdie’

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘Will she continue on her own?’

  ‘I don’t ken. The farm will be flooded when the reservoir is finished.’

  ‘Oh aye, the reservoir,’ he said bitterly. ‘Nothing’s going to stop the reservoir. Tell me, are those Hun still working on it?’

  ‘Aye. They’re still here.’

  ‘It’s disgraceful. They’ve no right.’

  ‘It’s no’ easy for them.’

  ‘Ah! You would know all about it, would you? I’ve told you before, you stay away from them or you’ll have me to answer to.’ He took hold of her hand and pulled her roughly down onto the grass. ‘You’re mine and don’t you forget it.’

  He could see her eyes widen with fright in the dusk and the thought that his wife might be cowed by him only inflamed him more. She had trapped him into this marriage against his will and he was going to show her what her duties as a wife should be. His hands began to fumble with the buttons of her jacket.

  ‘What are you doing, Tom?’ she uttered, as he forced her to lie down. ‘Not here, Tom. Please!’

  He stopped her pleading with a hand over her mouth. ‘Lie still, woman. You’ll do as I please, for a change. I’ve had more than enough of your excuses.’

  He felt her body go limp beneath him and the gesture reminded him of his vow to treat his wife with consideration. Uttering a colourful curse beneath his breath, he rolled off her, snatched up his stick, let out a shrill whistle to the dog and strode off down the hill.

  Ellen sat up and, for several minutes, remained motionless. Eventually she got to her feet and slowly followed in her husband’s footsteps to the cottag
e.

  32

  Very Much Mistaken

  The decision had come to her while she sat in the near-dark at the top of the hill. Now she waited until her husband’s regular breathing indicated that he was asleep. Putting her feet to the floor, she slipped carefully out of bed and stepped soundlessly into the living room, where she had left her clothes. Dressing by the dwindling light of the fire, she paused to make sure there was no sound from either her husband or her daughter and slipped from the house. She tiptoed to the track by way of the grass, so her progress would be silent. It was only when she was free of the farm that she began to hurry. At the road, she turned towards the encampment and half ran, half walked the remaining distance. As she neared the dark outline of its huts, her heart was racing. Crouching behind a convenient bush, she waited.

  She didn’t have to wait for long. Josef was easily recognisable by his slim build and the intermittent cough that he made unsuccessful attempts to keep under control. She saw him leave the hut and close the door quietly behind him. He walked over to the barbed wire and stood so still that he seemed almost to melt into the darkness. Looking to the right and left to make sure no one was coming, she softly called his name. Immediately he was alert.

  ‘It is you, Liebling?’ he whispered.

  ‘Aye.’ She stepped from her cover and crossed the intervening space.

  ‘I miss you very much.’

  ‘I had to see you. I can’t stand it’

  ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘I can’t stand not seeing you and… I can’t stand the way my husband is with me.’

  A distant footstep alerted Josef.

  ‘Schnell! Go to the bush… quickly. The guard comes.’

  Ellen regained her cover and crouched down, hardly daring to breathe.

  Josef and the guard exchanged a few sentences. She couldn’t catch what they said but their tone suggested a friendly enough conversation. The night watch must be used to Josef’s habitual insomnia. She heard the guard’s measured steps as he continued on his beat, and crept out from her hiding place.

  ‘You tell me about your husband,' Josef said anxiously. 'What you mean, “how he is with you”?’

  ‘He… he gets so angry. He is cruel to me.’

  ‘What is this “cruel”?’

  ‘He is rough with me.’

  ‘He is rough with you?’ Josef’s voice was incredulous. ‘But why?’

  ‘I don’t make him happy. I annoy him. I don’t know what it is. I have never made him happy.’ She shrugged.

  ‘That is bad, Liebling. He has hurt you now?’ Josef's voice rose in anger.

  ‘No. But you… you are so different, so kind.’

  ‘Ellen.’ Josef’s voice was strained, the words sounding as though they were wrung out of him. ‘What can I say? We cannot be together… but I must tell you how I feel. I love you, Ellen. I always love you.’

  ‘And I… I love you.’ Ellen’s voice broke and she began to sob.

  ‘Liebling, please do not cry. I love you always.’

  ‘Will I see you here tomorrow?’ she murmured as the sobs subsided.

  ‘Of course. I wait.’

  There was a staccato shout and they turned to see a guard standing at the corner of the nearest hut.

  ‘Run, Liebling. Go home. Hurry.’

  ‘Who goes there? Stop!’ The guard began to run towards the pair.

  Ellen glanced briefly at Josef.

  ‘Run. Schnell! Run.’

  Ellen careered down the side of the valley. When she reached the river, she paused, looking back up the slope. From this distance it was impossible to see or hear anything. She stood still in the darkness, hearing only the rasping of her breath and the indifferent chatter of the water behind her. She wanted to go back but knew that she could not. Stumbling on towards home, her breath turned to sobs again. Without a doubt there was no possibility of seeing Josef the following day. The guards would be primed for her arrival. Either that or he would not be there to greet her because they would have locked him up for the night.

  At the door of the cottage she paused to gather her breath. She wiped her eyes on her sleeve and entered the cottage. All was quiet. Silently she closed the door and began to unbutton her coat.

  *

  Tom bided his time. He didn’t know what Ellen was up to but he was going to find out.

  He had woken as she left the bed. After several minutes, during which he anticipated her return, he went to investigate. In the living room he found her nightclothes. He looked in the usual place for her shoes and they were missing. Outside all was quiet. He had expected to find her on the doorstep, contemplating the moon or the stars, but she was nowhere to be seen. When she wasn’t there, he turned back to the cottage, but then paused. Maybe she had walked in the direction of the reservoir building and the imprisoned Germans.

  After several minutes’ walking he could see her up ahead, a dark shadow against the waning moon. Following at a distance, he realised that his wild guess was indeed correct. She was making for the encampment.

  He followed at a safe distance, though she never once looked round. Outside the camp, she stopped, crouching behind a bush. After a minute he watched in disbelief as she furtively approached the wire and a shadowy figure imprisoned within it. It was impossible for him to make out any of the words that were spoken, but, from the grassy knoll behind which he was sheltering, he could see the two of them deep in conversation. They seemed as close together as it was possible for two people to be when separated by a wire fence. It took every ounce of willpower to stay in hiding, when his body was crying out to leap forward and snatch his property back from this foreign thief.

  Suddenly a shout rang out. He ducked, as though the words were aimed at his own head. The next moment his wife was running down the hill directly towards him. He slithered sideways as she hurtled past, making for the river below. For a few minutes he waited, watching her blur into the darkness. She appeared to have stopped among the rocks.

  Tom scrambled up the hillside towards the road so that he could take the easier way back to the cottage and be in his bed by the time she arrived back.

  *

  ‘Where have you been?’

  Ellen was so startled she almost cried out.

  ‘I went for a walk.’

  ‘Liar!’ Tom roared, letting go at last his pent-up rage. He jumped up from his chair in front of the dead fire and strode over to her, standing so close that she cowered beneath him. ‘I saw you.’

  ‘I went for a walk,’ Ellen’s voice faltered. ‘You know me, Tom. I like walking at night.’ She tried to turn away, to remove her coat, but he caught her shoulder and wheeled her round to face him.

  ‘Yes, but where did you walk?’ he said through gritted teeth.

  ‘Only along the road.’

  ‘To the prison camp. To keep an assignation with one of the Hun.’ His voice rose. ‘And before you open your mouth, don’t try and deny it. I saw you with my own eyes. You were there at the wire with him. God knows what you would have been doing if the wire hadn’t been there.’ He raised a hand and slapped her across the cheek. She fell backwards into the chair but immediately tried to clamber out of it.

  ‘Tom, please…’

  Tom pushed her roughly back and slapped her again with the back of his hand. Blood began to seep from the corner of her mouth. Her husband stumbled on one of Netta’s toys and in an instant Ellen was flinging herself out of the chair and across the room. Tom ran after her and brought her heavily to the ground.

  ‘Tom! The baby!’ she screamed. ‘Think of the baby!’

  ‘The baby! What do I want with another baby when I’ve a wife who can’t be faithful to me?’

  Ellen’s eyes flared. ‘How dare you say that to me? I’ve seen you all these months, years even. Making eyes at Clara… in front of me as well. And what goes on behind my back with her?’

  ‘Don’t you dare bring Clara into this!’ Tom shouted, clamping his hand across Ellen’
s mouth. But the next second he snatched back his hand with a roar as Ellen sunk her teeth hard into his fingers.

  ‘I’ve tried to be a good wife to you, Tom.’ Ellen, backing away from her husband, started to cry. ‘I tried so hard at first. But she was always in the way. I saw how you looked at her and talked to her… and you never talked to me or looked at me like…’ But her outpouring was silenced by a punch to her left cheekbone that knocked her senseless to the floor.

  *

  Ellen put her hand up to her face and winced. Her jaw felt swollen and she could hardly see out of her left eye. Her elbow and hip felt bruised and sore. She sat up slowly and swallowed, as a wave of nausea passed through her body.

  For a while she sat unmoving and attempted to gather her thoughts. With a jolt she recalled her meeting with Josef and discovery by one of the guards. She recalled her homeward journey, and then her eyes fastened on the neglected toy. The trauma of discovery came back to her.

  She looked round the room cautiously but there was no one else there. The clock on the mantelpiece showed five thirty. It was growing light. Painfully, she got to her feet and walked stiffly to the kitchen, where she poured herself a glass of water. There was an uncanny silence in the cottage. Slowly she walked to the bedroom to check on Netta, where her daughter was sleeping peacefully. Tom was nowhere to be seen. Their bed was dishevelled but empty.

  When she re-entered the living room, Duncan was standing there. He stared at her.

  ‘What has happened to your face, child?’

  She put an involuntary hand up to her cheek, as he stepped closer.

  His face contorted. ‘Did Tom do this to you?’

  ‘Of course not, Feyther. Why would he do a thing like that? I think I fainted and hit my face on the bedside table. I must have got out of my bed too quickly.’

  ‘I don’t believe you, Ellen. This has happened one time too many. Wait till I see that so-called husband of yours.’ He moved towards her. ‘Let me see your face.’

  ‘Just leave me alone, Feyther,’ Ellen barked, taking a step back.

  Duncan took a breath, as though to reply, thought better of it and sat down heavily in the chair. Leaning over, he began to lace his boots, all the while muttering under his breath. ‘Where is Tom anyway?’ he said suddenly. ‘He’s meant to be helping me with the sheep. They’ll no doubt start lambing today and I need him here.’