The Poppy Field

by Deborah Carr

  Deciding that now was as good a time as any, Gemma went to grab her phone hoping her father was around to take the call.

  He answered almost immediately. “What’s the matter?” he asked impatiently.

  “Nothing, Dad,” she said, annoyed that he acted as if she was constantly harassing him. She told him about the upper floor of the small barn. “I think we could make use of the loft by turning it into a couple of rooms, or studio flats, or enclosing down below and building one or two gîtes. What do you think?”

  There was silence as he gave her idea some thought. “It all depends on the cost and whether or not we’d get our money back in a sale.” He hesitated. “However good an idea is, you don’t want to spend more than you’ll make back on a property.”

  “I thought the same thing, but I do like the idea.”

  “So, do I,” he said. “Let me give it some thought, and I’ll get back to you.”

  Gemma, happy not to have received an immediate rejection for Tom’s idea, walked up the slope towards the field. She stopped at the gate, transfixed by a sparrow hawk circling overhead before swooping down to grab its prey. Taking in the scene in front of her, Gemma felt the atmosphere of the history to the place. She assumed Alice had lived here, but for how long? Did she come to live here with her beloved Ed, she wondered? She pictured the two of them walking hand in hand in the long grass, wild flowers brushing against their legs, then stopping to kiss.

  Her thoughts returned to Tom. What happens now between us? He’d go to his other job, she thought miserably. His kiss had altered things between them now. At least it had for her.

  “You’re miles away,” Tom said, giving her a gentle nudge. “It’s peaceful up here, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, it’s difficult to imagine that there was ever a war going on near here.”

  “It is,” he agreed. “To think that there are men and women still fighting out there somewhere in the world, still dying,” He studied her face. “We’re very lucky to have this time here, Gemma,” he said, looking serious.

  “You say that as if it’s about to end,” she said, dread seeping into her mind.

  Gemma looked at him lost in thought.

  “I was always carefree, before this happened,” he said tapping his prosthetic leg. “I’ve learnt that you have to live in the moment without being fearful. Take opportunities when they arise, without thinking too far in advance.”

  “I’m learning a lot from you, Tom Holloway,” she said. “Spending time here with you has made me question so much about my life.”

  “Good for you,” he said. “I think that as long as we’re learning and making the most of things, then we’re doing the best for ourselves.”

  “I think that makes a lot of sense.” She watched him and wondered how long they would have here together. She needed to take charge of her life. She’d shown herself that she had more guts than she had ever imagined before. So, why stop now?

  Chapter 17

  Alice

  December 1916

  “I’m sad he died,” Alice whispered to Mary as they congregated with the others, waiting for the pilot’s coffin to be carried out of the mortuary. She fought back tears. “I know he was dangerously ill, but his bones would have mended eventually.”

  “Yes, but what about the burns to his poor body?” Mary signed. “He was in terrible pain and only regained consciousness once.”

  “I was hoping there was something they could do for him,” Alice said keeping her voice low. “They’re making incredible progress medically now.”

  “Not so much for burns, they are something else entirely.”

  Alice agreed. “I have to admit they’re the worst. It breaks my heart to see these poor pilots coming in, although most of them die when the plane goes down.”

  They stopped speaking when Major Phillips stepped out of his office, followed by Matron, two other senior officers and a priest, all with sadness etched on their faces. The coffin was carried outside and Monseigneur Jacques, the priest who had become part of the daily order of the place, stepped in front of it. The solemn cortège began its brief journey to the clearing station cemetery.

  Alice clasped her hands together in front of her uniform. She walked in silence, head down, with the rest of the mourners. She had made this journey many times now and it never got any easier. Each death stung and reminded her painfully how fruitless this war had become. They had been at war for over three years, and still there was no end in sight. At least the staff and those patients able to join in the procession, were able to give the fallen men the respect and honour they deserved. She felt it gave them all a sense that they were giving the dead one last act of respect, where their family were unable to do so.

  The procession reached the edge of the cemetery and stopped in front of the freshly dug grave. Alice pulled her cape tighter around her shoulders, as if it was able to give her some comfort. She listened to the priest, his face a mask of sadness, as he held his worn bible, speaking for them all to another life lost.

  At the end of the short service, each member of the congregation made the sign of the cross and bowed their heads. The drizzle fell as the casket was lowered slowly into the ground. After a moment of reflection, Major Phillips began walking with Monseigneur Jacques back to his office.

  “They’re brave men, those pilots,” one of the probationers said to anyone who would listen. “My friend was courting one of them a few months ago. She said that those planes are only made out of wood. Wood? That’s no protection against bullets, is it?”

  “Shush,” Mary said. “Keep your voice down.”

  “Sorry,” she said, taking a breath to continue. “Did you know they’re only covered with Irish linen. It’s dipped in something, although I can’t recall what, but that sounds flimsy to say the least.”

  “It sounds horribly fragile,” Alice agreed.

  “The pilots can’t see straight ahead of them either,” the girl added, her volume increasing as she imparted the information. “I heard that their line of vision is blocked by the engine and propeller. If they want to keep an eye out for any enemy planes coming for them, they have to keep moving about.”

  “Can that be right?” Alice asked, shocked. “Imagine flying at speed and not being able to see directly ahead of you?” The thought terrified her. “It adds to their bravery, I think.” She pictured the dead pilot. How dashing must he have looked in his blue uniform and leather jacket? She wondered who would be grieving for him at home.

  The drizzle turned to rain and everyone moved faster. Alice and Mary reached their tent.

  Checking no one was near enough to overhear, Mary said, “I was told that the average life expectancy of a pilot is only seven days.”

  Alice shuddered. “That’s dreadful,” she said, hoping Mary was wrong. She was relieved Ed wasn’t a pilot. Then again, hearing Mary’s comment made her wonder about the statistics for an infantryman. She couldn’t bear it if he was hurt again. The thought of anything worse happening to him than what he’d suffered forced her to stop her train of thought and focus on something else.

  “I suppose we’d better take these off,” she said undoing her cape and shaking it near the entrance to the tent. “We need to get back to work.” She yawned. She needed more sleep but worrying about Ed did not help. When was she going to hear from him? She needed to know he was safe.

  The following morning the mail was brought into the yard. As usual, all mail addressed to the nurses was taken to Matron’s office to be checked.

  “I hope she doesn’t take too long,” Mary said, as she crossed paths with Alice. “My aunt promised to send me more socks and a pair of gloves. It’s getting cold and I know I haven’t enough to keep me warm this winter.”

  Alice had been so preoccupied with Ed’s situation and the deteriorating condition of the pilot that she had given no thought to her own winter wardrobe. She would write to her mother later. Maybe ask for her to send a few things to make another winter in the
leaking bell tent more bearable.

  “Good idea,” she said, wishing she was focused on practical things, like Mary. “We’d better return to the ward.”

  An hour later, Alice was called into Matron’s office.

  “You’ve received a letter from a Lieutenant Peter Conway,” Matron said taking Alice off guard.

  Alice wasn’t sure who this person was, or why she would receive a letter from him. But then she thought about Ed. Could this be a letter from him? Distracted by her thoughts she struggled to come up with a reply.

  Matron looked as if she had taken Alice’s hesitation as concern, and said, “You haven’t received any mail from your cousin before now, have you, Nurse Le Breton?” she asked.

  “No, no Matron,” Alice answered, her heart beating faster and faster in her chest.

  “Well, you have now.”

  “Yes, Matron.”

  “He’s requested that you’re given an afternoon’s leave to meet up with him.”

  “He has?” Alice didn’t dare hope that this was Ed, trying to conjure up a way for them to meet.

  Matron handed Alice her letter.

  “Tomorrow afternoon, at two o’clock.” Matron stared at Alice, her face solemn. “I am happy to oblige with his request.”

  Alice couldn’t help smiling. “Thank you, Matron.” Her heart pounded so hard that she was sure Matron might hear it and suspect what was going on.

  “I don’t like my nurses travelling off the camp alone,” Matron added.

  Alice’s excitement waned slightly.

  “You will need a lift into town. I have arranged for an ambulance to collect three of the patients to take them to the docks. It should arrive at one-thirty, which leaves more than enough time for you to make your way to the village for your appointment.” She smiled, thoughtfully.

  She straightened two pieces of paper on her desk. “I have given permission to Nurse Jones to accompany you,” Matron said, finally. “You both must ensure to be back at the grounds by five o’clock.”

  “Thank you, Matron,” she said, trying not to show her excitement.

  “Do not let me down now, Nurse Le Breton.” Matron stared at her for a moment.

  “No, Matron,” Alice answered, trying not to show how guilty she already felt to be leaving under a false pretext. “Would you like me to ask Nurse Jones to come and see you now?”

  Matron shook her head. Alice noticed the dark circles under the older woman’s eyes. For the first time, it occurred to Alice that however tired they were as nurses, Matron Bleasdale had to keep order of them all. The stress of her work was beginning to show.

  “Here is your permission slip,” Matron said, handing two slips to Alice. “The one for Nurse Jones is with it.” She gave Alice a smile. “And here is a letter addressed to you from the Lieutenant. I hope you have a pleasant afternoon with your cousin.”

  Alice took the proffered slips and Ed’s letter, noticing that the stamp was not stuck onto the envelope neatly. “Thank you, Matron,” she said, leaving the office before the redness building in her cheeks alerted the older woman to her deception.

  “I knew he’d manage it somehow,” Mary giggled when they were alone in their tent later.

  “I felt a little mean,” Alice said. “Especially when she was so friendly and kind about my time with my cousin.” She handed one of the slips to Mary. “I have to admit I am excited to see him.”

  “Clever Captain Woodhall,” Mary said, giggling.

  Alice lay back on her bed and closed her eyes, clutching her permission slip to her chest. She was grateful to him for being bold enough to try such a tactic. She didn’t think she had felt this happy for months.

  “I can’t wait,” she said, placing her slip into her purse, so that she didn’t mislay it. “It’s going to be a little strange to meet him socially though. I’ve only spent time with him being a patient here.”

  “Where are we meeting him?” Mary asked, sitting down on her bed, staring at the piece of paper in her hand.

  “Hotel du Nord,” Alice said, scanning her letter from Ed. She couldn’t wait to read it in its entirety. However, she wanted to be alone to do so to relish every nuance and curve of his slanted writing. “In the village. We should arrive there at about two o’clock, I suppose. He’s asked us to take tea with him.” She realised his letter made no mention of Mary at their meeting. Alice looked up to see Mary smiling at her.

  “I wonder how that will taste,” Mary giggled.

  “It could taste like brine for all I care,” Alice sighed, longing to see Ed again.

  “You don’t want me playing gooseberry. I’ll take myself off for a walk around the town. I love exploring new places.”

  Mortified to think of her friend making herself scarce so she could spend time with Ed, Alice shook her head frowning. “Absolutely not. You deserve tea and cakes, or whatever we will be served, as much as we do,” she said. “I don’t know much about Ed, but he is a gentleman. I can’t imagine he’d allow you to spend the afternoon by yourself in a strange place, whatever you say.” She thought about how she could find some time alone with him. “We can all go for a walk afterwards, if the weather stays fine. Ed and I shall walk a little behind you, we can talk then.”

  “If you’re quite sure,” Mary said, unconvinced.

  “Absolutely,” Alice said, determined not to push her friend aside. “You simply mustn’t wander around the village alone, it wouldn’t be seemly.”

  “You don’t know when you’ll next be able to see him. Let’s not make too many definite plans about tomorrow, shall we?”

  “You’re a good friend, Mary,” Alice said, grateful for her friend’s understanding.

  She stared at the envelope longing to read the letter inside. “He has beautiful writing, don’t you think?” Alice said. “The stamp confuses me though.”

  Mary laughed and picked up her wash bag and towel. “Perhaps he’s sent you a message.”

  “What do you mean?” She stared at the crooked image of the King’s head.

  “Depending on which way the stamp is stuck on to the envelope will depict the message he’s trying to send to you.”

  Delighted for this extra surprise, Alice, held up the envelope for her friend to see. “What has he said to me with this one?”

  Mary shrugged. “I don’t know, sorry.”

  Disappointed, Alice frowned. “You really don’t know, or are you teasing me?”

  Mary placed her hand lightly on her friend’s shoulder. “I’m afraid I really have no clue. You’ll have to ask Ed when you see him.”

  Alice didn’t want to wait that long, but knew she had no choice. She didn’t feel comfortable asking anyone other than Mary about it, in case her friend had made a wrong assumption.

  Later when Mary went to the ablution block to wash, Alice read her letter.

  Dearest cousin,

  I have taken it upon myself to write to your Matron. I have requested permission for you to meet with me for afternoon tea. We have not seen each other in such a long time and I thought that as well as catching up with my dear cousin, Alice, I very much hope that we will be able to spend the afternoon together and look forward to hearing about how Aunt Cecelia and Uncle Frank are coping in Jersey.

  I look forward to hearing from Matron, and you, too, dearest cousin. Stuart sends his best love and wishes his auntie well. He hopes she isn’t working too hard, or missing home too much. I am assured he is looking forward to a time when his aunt can hug him once more.

  Well, dearest Alice, I have less enjoyable letter writing to which I must urgently attend.

  I hope my request is granted and that we are able to meet.

  Sincerely,

  Your cousin,

  Peter

  He had sent his love and wanted to hug her. She folded the sheet of paper and slid it back into the envelope. The thought of being in his arms again so soon made her feel energised. Alice hugged herself pretending it was his arms about her. How clever of him
to think of this and to mention Stuart in such a way. She was much happier now, knowing that she would soon be back in Ed’s arms.

  The following day was humid. The sun beat down on the dry grass, but Alice didn’t mind because she was treated to another letter from her fictional cousin. This time the stamp was upside down. Intrigued, she wished she could decipher this message. Never mind, she’d be seeing him soon.

  “How is it that my hair looks all messy, today of all days?” Alice moaned, dipping two fingers in her half-empty glass of water and dampening a few unruly strands.

  “It’s always the way,” Mary said, pulling on her hat and checking her reflection in her small hand mirror.

  “Oh, this will just have to do,” Alice said, fed up with her wasted efforts. “Quick, we’re going to have to run if we don’t want to miss our lift into town.” She hurriedly pushed her arms into the sleeves of her coat and making a grab for her hat and handbag, ran out of the tent.

  Alice pulled on her hat as she ran, dropping her bag and having to stop to retrieve it. “Don’t let him go without us,” she shouted.

  Mary waved to stop the ambulance driver from driving away. “We’re on our way,” she yelled.

  By the time Alice reached the auto ambulance, Mary was already making herself comfortable. She pushed the door open with her foot. “Come along.”

  “Thank you,” Alice said, a little out of breath. She squeezed onto the passenger seat next to her friend. “I’m sorry if we kept you waiting.”

  “Yer didn’t, love,” the driver said, smiling. “I don’t do waitin’, for no one. Thirty seconds later and you would ‘ave bin walking in ter the town.”

  “Well, we’re relieved we made it to you in time,” Mary said widening her eyes as she glanced at Alice and shuffling over slightly to give her more room.

  Alice tried to ignore the butterflies fluttering around in her stomach as the ambulance reached the town. The first thing she noticed was the high belfry that overlooked the town and then passed the impressive brick town hall with its wide steps in front of the entrance. She had missed Ed enormously, but now felt nervous and was unable to think of anything that she would talk to him about.