The Poppy Field

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The Poppy Field Page 15

by Deborah Carr


  Her mother nudged him sharply in his side. “Enough of that scaremongering. I’m not the only one who’s concerned about them being here. Anyhow, we’ve had a pleasant day and I don’t wish to taint my mood with such nonsense.”

  Alice was happy to change the topic of conversation, too. “You seem much better today, Mother,” she said, taking a chance that her mother would not use this reminder to have an instant relapse.

  Her mother gave a feeble cough. “A little, dear. I’ve been putting on a brave face, so we could venture out and give you some fresh air. You must be rather bored at home after all the excitement of your work.”

  “A little,” Alice admitted, taking the opportunity to remind her mother that she would soon be returning to France. “About that, Mother. Please don’t forget I’ll be leaving in three days. I’m needed in France.”

  “You’re needed here, young lady,” her mother snapped. “It would make a welcome change if you remembered your priorities occasionally.”

  Not wishing to cause a drama, Alice bit back a retort. “More wounded soldiers are brought in daily, Mother. I’ve gained a huge amount of experience and they’ll want me back as soon as I’m able to return.”

  The following morning, Alice was woken by a loud banging on her bedroom door. She forced her eyes open and sat up. “Yes?”

  “It’s the madam, miss,” Jeanette called through the door. “She’s taken poorly again. The doctor should be arriving shortly.”

  Alice lay back down on her pillows and stared miserably at her white ceiling. “Thank you, Jeanette,” she said, concentrating on keeping her voice light. “Please tell her I’ll be with her presently.”

  Alice supposed it served her right. She had given in to her compulsion to remind her mother about her return to France, so naturally her mother would suffer a relapse. Irritated with her for being so selfish, Alice turned on her side and punched one of her pillows.

  Ten minutes later she was dressed and trying to remain composed in her mother’s bedroom. The curtains were closed as their family doctor chatted sympathetically to her mother. “I’ll call again tomorrow morning,” he said, closing his leather case and going to the door. “Do not hesitate to call me before that time should you need me.”

  Alice followed him silently out to the hall. She waited until they were by the front door and he had put on his overcoat before speaking.

  “My mother’s illness. Do you know when it will subside?”

  “It’s her nerves, Alice,” he said. “I understand you must be impatient to return to your voluntary work, however, your mother needs you here.”

  “Yes, of course,” she said, wondering if he couldn’t see through her mother’s charade, or if he was wanting to keep feigning ignorance and be able to go on to his next patient.

  Despondent, Alice opened the door and accompanied him outside. She was tired of her mother’s emotional blackmail. It was time she stood up to her. Alice took a deep breath. It wouldn’t be easy, even her father still found it nigh on impossible at times. But she wanted to be back in France and more than anything, to see Ed again.

  She cleared her throat, her heart pounding with nerves. “Doctor, we both know she isn’t as delicate as she professes, don’t we?” She willed him to be honest with her.

  He swapped his case from his right to his left. Alice could see he was finding their conversation awkward, but she was desperate to stop the pretence and return to where she truly was needed.

  “I can’t stay here on my mother’s whim,” she explained. “You have a son in the Jersey Pals. Surely you think it’s a good thing that I go where I’m most needed?”

  He glanced up at her mother’s bedroom window and then back to Alice. Sighing heavily, he shook his head. “You put me in a difficult position, young lady.”

  “I apologise,” she said, honestly. “But I need your help to do what’s right.”

  After some hesitation he said, “I’ll speak with your father. I’m afraid you will have to delay your return, but shall we compromise and agree that you’ll remain here for a further week?”

  Aware she had little choice, Alice agreed. “Thank you. If you tell my father I’ll no longer be needed here after then, he’ll persuade my mother that there’s little choice but to let me return to France. I can then write to my superiors and request a week’s extension to my leave.”

  He turned and walked away from the house and down the driveway without saying anything further. Alice realised that although she wasn’t able to leave immediately, she would only have to remain here for another seven days. She had done it. She had finally stood up for herself against her mother.

  Everyone in the household knew her mother was giving a great performance. Ordinarily Alice would go along with it, as the family had always done. This time though things were different. Finally. She hoped it was the start of her being more assertive when it came to her home life. Now, she would visit her sister and then all she had to do was wait one more week before seeing Ed. She could not wait. Humming, she hurried inside to pen a letter to Matron Bleasdale.

  Chapter 14

  Gemma

  2018

  “I’m not sure who Alice Le Breton was,” Gemma said to her father during a brief catch-up call, as she put away shopping she had bought in the village. “Like us, she has a connection to Jersey.”

  “Do you suspect she could be my late cousin’s mother?” her father asked in contemplation.

  “Possibly.”

  Tom knocked on the front door, and Gemma smiled and waved him in. She pointed at her mobile phone wedged between her right shoulder and ear and he nodded

  “Was your cousin’s last name Woodhall, by any chance?” Gemma asked, trying not to get excited at the prospect yet willing her father to say that it was. She loved the idea that Alice and Ed married and brought up their family in this farmhouse, living happily ever after.

  “I’m ashamed to say I don’t know,” he said. “I’ll look up his name when I get home and let you know.”

  “That would be great, thanks.” She was desperate to glean as much knowledge about what had happened to Alice after the war. Gemma was excited at the prospect that maybe she and Alice actually were related. She hoped they were.

  “You could simply read through the rest of the letters, you know,” he said. She could tell her dad was irritated with her for giving him something to do. “Maybe you’ll discover what happened to her by reading the final one.”

  Gemma had thought of that and resisted from groaning. “The final letter is still addressed to Alice Le Breton, Dad. That’s why I’m asking.”

  “Don’t forget you need to get that place ready to put on the market.”

  Gemma groaned inwardly at his reminder of the inevitable. She wasn’t ready to think about packing up and leaving this place, let alone cheerily showing prospective buyers around her current sanctuary.

  “Yes, I hadn’t forgotten.”

  He sighed. “Right.” There was a brief silence and then just when Alice thought he might have cut her off, he said. “I’d better go. Your mother and I are off to some function at her law firm. Damn dreary evening it’ll be, no doubt, but one has to make the effort.”

  “No problem,” Alice said. “Have a good time.” She ended the call and turned to Tom. “The letters really are very romantic,” she said dreamily. She leaned against the sink and closed her eyes briefly. She dreamt of having a love as beautiful as Alice and Ed’s although supposed that a love like theirs probably only came about with the uncertainty of a war.

  “Daydreaming?” Tom teased. “I’m going to leave you to it.” She opened her eyes to see him pass her on his way to the back door, stopping when his hand grasped the Bakelite door handle. “I’ll be fascinated to know how Alice’s letters came to be hidden here.”

  Gemma smiled, paying attention once more. “Me, too.” She could see he was wanting to say something more, but clearly wasn’t sure how to put it.

  “Go on, what’s
bothering you?” Gemma folded her arms and waited, amused. She wondered if Tom wanted to read the letters, too? She hoped so.

  “I was thinking,” he hesitated “About Ed’s injuries.”

  Gemma stiffened. “What about them?” she asked quietly.

  His pensive expression exuded sadness. “I can’t help comparing the treatment of the injured soldiers back in the First World War to now,” he said. “Men shouldn’t have suffered so badly in the name of serving their country, but they still do.”

  “I agree,” Gemma said, touched by his sentiments. She watched him walk outside, shoulders back and a determined expression on his face. She thought about how kind he’d been to her, stepping in at the last minute to take on the work at the farm. Gemma’s heart swelled to watch him. She stood at the open back door.

  He was unaware how much he was helping her heal and move on with her life. Maybe one day, she would be able to trust her own instincts and have another intimate relationship with a man. She wished that man could be Tom, but as friendly as he was, there was still something haunting him. She wondered if it was the loss of his friends in Kabul. An experience like that was bound to change someone mentally, she mused, let alone Tom who was living with the physical consequences of that day.

  Tom noticed her watching him. He looked over to her and smiled. “You’re welcome to help anytime,” he teased. “Get your wellies on. Come and do something useful.”

  Gemma made a big show of rolling her eyes heavenward, before doing as he suggested. She pulled on her coat as she crossed the courtyard and zipped it up. “What needs doing first?”

  The morning passed quickly as Gemma handed Tom sheets of plasterboard so that he could fix them to the wall in the small outbuildings. By the time they returned to work after a bite to eat at lunchtime, Tom had explained that a plasterer friend would be coming by within the hour to do the walls in each room.

  “That’s quick,” she said, surprised.

  “I thought you’d be pleased,” he said stopping what he was doing.

  “I am,” she fibbed. “I just didn’t expect it, that’s all.”

  You’ll be able to paint the rooms in a few days,” he said to Gemma. “Then I can get on with the partitions for the attic space, if you decide you want it converted.”

  “Maybe. I’ve been thinking about the stairs up to the attic rooms,” she said. “I think a spiral staircase will probably work best, don’t you?”

  Tom considered the option. “There is another way,” he said. “I’ll get my phone and show you an idea I discovered last night when I was trawling through the Internet.”

  Gemma could not envisage another way to fit stairs up from the open barn area without taking up too much room.

  Tom scrolled through his phone until he found what he was looking for. “There,” he said pointing to what looked like a narrow wooden staircase. “If you’re happy with that I can build it myself. We won’t need to order one, so there’ll be no delay waiting for it to be delivered. It’ll be bespoke for the space, too.”

  “What about the cost?” she asked. “It looks good, but I know Dad won’t want to spend a fortune.”

  “The supplies shouldn’t be more than a couple of hundred,” Tom said, pushing his phone into his back pocket. “Then my time. I guess it’ll take me a few days.”

  “Great. Leave it with me to check with Dad, then I’ll let you know.”

  Anything that delayed him at the farm was welcome to her. She would simply have to persuade her father that there was no option but to choose this staircase and hope that he trusted her enough to agree to pay for it.

  Chapter 15

  Alice

  November 1916

  This time Alice didn’t care about her bumpy, cold journey back to the casualty clearing station. All she wanted was to see Ed again. It had been just over three weeks in reality but had felt like a lifetime. Three hours would be too long the way she felt about him now.

  She dropped her suitcase into her tent and quickly changed into her uniform. Then, going to Matron’s office, she knocked on the door.

  “Enter,” Matron said, her voice sounding strained, Alice thought.

  She walked into the silent room, feeling a little nervous.

  “Ah, Nurse Le Breton, you’re back,” Matron said, looking a little less severe than usual. “As I’m sure you expect, much has happened since you’ve been away.” She checked her watch. “Your mother. She is better, I assume?”

  Alice didn’t like to admit that her mother had never really been unwell and that her visit had not been a necessary one. “Yes, thank you. Much better now.”

  “Very good. I’m relieved to hear it,” she straightened several sheets of paper on her desk. “I’d like you back on the wards as soon as possible. We’re rather short staffed.”

  “Yes, Matron,” Alice said, delighted to oblige. “Thank you, Matron.”

  She returned to Ward Three, eager to see Ed.

  “Oh, you’re back,” Mary said, as she reached the ward entrance.

  Alice could tell by the furrows of concern on her brow that something was amiss. “Is everything all right?” Alice asked, concerned for her friend.

  Mary went to say something when Matron walked around the corner and spotted them chatting. “Nurse Le Breton, Nurse Jones. There is much work to be done. Go to your wards, immediately.”

  Alice pulled an apologetic face at Mary. She would have to ask her about her woes later when they were in their tent.

  Striding into the ward, a smile on her face, Alice saw that there was a stranger in the bed where Ed used to be. Maybe they’ve rearranged the room, she thought, aware that it had happened many times since she’d begun working there. She scanned the room for sight of him and her heart raced when she couldn’t see him anywhere. Surely, he hadn’t relapsed? Trying to control her panic, she spotted a probationer and went over to her.

  “Captain Woodhall,” she said quietly. “Do you know where he’s been moved to?”

  The nurse frowned. “I’m sorry, which one is he?”

  Concerned, but trying to remain professional, Alice pointed to where she had last seen him. “That was his bed, there.”

  The young girl thought for a moment. “Oh, yes. Injury to the head and hip, fair-haired, good looking,” she smiled. “Is that the one?”

  Alice wanted to throttle her for taking her time. “Yes.”

  “He was a nice man”

  “Was?” Alice’s heart plummeted. Exhausted from two days travelling and her rising panic was threatening to overwhelm her. “Please, what happened to him?”

  “Oh, he’s gone.” She turned to walk away, but Alice stepped in front of her.

  “Gone?” If he left, then he was fit. Relief flooded through her. But it meant that she had missed him. “When was this?”

  “Two days ago,” she said, folding her arms in front of her chest. “You all right?”

  No, Alice thought, I’m not. She nodded. “Was he discharged, or sent home, do you know?”

  “The Major deemed him fit to return to his unit. I gather he was sent back to the Front with about twenty other of the men.” The girl smiled wistfully. “It always saddens me to think of them going back to those rat-infested trenches. After all the effort we put in to ensure they’re kept clean and warm. When you think—”

  “Yes,” Alice snapped. She couldn’t bear to think about Ed being posted back to the trenches. Then feeling badly for her reaction, added, “Thank you. I’m sorry, I’m a little tired. I’ve only just arrived back here.”

  “Don’t worry,” the nurse said. “I’d better press on anyway.”

  Alice marched off to go and find Mary. How could she have missed him by only two days? Two days. Her throat constricted with tears. No one must be allowed to see her cry though. The last thing she wanted was for anyone to discover their closeness.

  “Have you seen Nurse Jones,” she asked a passing orderly as she rushed to the next ward. He shrugged and pulled out a
cigarette and matches as he walked away from her.

  “Was yer lookin’ for that pretty nurse with the red ‘air?” a patient asked from one of the wicker chairs on the lawn.

  Relieved, Alice went over to him. “Yes, have you seen her?”

  “Yeah, she’s fetching me a tea. She should be back anytime now.” He peered in the general direction that Mary would use coming back. “She ‘as bin longer than I expected though.”

  Unsure whether to remain where she was and wait for Mary there, or go and look for her in the canteen, Alice thanked him. She paced back and forth, relieved when Mary re-appeared.

  Alice’s brain raced. Why had she not thought to swap addresses with Ed? What did she really know about him? Thanks to him being surrounded by other patients, either as he lay in the ward, or outside in the fresh air, the entire extent of their conversations consisted of information that wouldn’t draw suspicion to their closeness.

  “Ahh, you know, don’t you?” Mary asked unnecessarily. “Come along,” she said, linking arms with Alice. “I need you to come and fetch supplies.” They began walking. “A convoy will be arriving in about an hour, so we need to stock up.”

  Once far enough away from the ward and any patients, Mary stopped. She hugged Alice. “I’m so sorry you missed him.”

  Alice couldn’t hold back her tears of disappointment and frustration. “I can’t believe it. Two days, that’s all.” She pushed away ill feeling towards her mother for being so selfish.

  “I know, it’s cruel.”

  Alice withdrew a handkerchief from her sleeve and blew her nose. “Sorry. It’s just a bit unexpected, that’s all. I’ve been looking forward to seeing Ed so much.” She took a deep breath. “I haven’t even asked how you are yet?” she said, wiping the tears from her wet cheeks with the bottom of her clean apron. “Any unexpected dramas that I should know about?”

  “Never mind that,” Mary said, walking on again towards the supply room. Once inside, she scanned the room to check they were alone, and said, “He’s going to write to you.”

  “He mustn’t. He knows I’m not allowed to correspond with him.”

 

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