The Poppy Field

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The Poppy Field Page 28

by Deborah Carr


  Alice smiled. She could see he was trying his best not to look shocked. It was all that she could expect from him. “How lovely to see you again, Doctor.”

  “Please,” he said, shaking her hand. “We’re past any formalities now, thankfully. I’d rather you call me Jack. May I call you Alice?”

  She nodded, happy. “I’d like that,” she said. “Can you understand my odd reply to you now?”

  “I can.” He stood, his hands behind his back. “Will you accept my invitation?”

  “Yes,” she said. “I’d like that very much.”

  Odette clasped her hands together and took Alice’s coat from the coat stand. She held it for Alice to slip her arm into, just as a contraction took hold. Grimacing, Alice held her stomach.

  “Are you all right?” Jack asked, going over to her.

  “I’m not sure,” she said panting.

  “You should sit down,” he said, pulling out a chair and helping her to it. “Have you had many pains today?”

  “A few.” She let him take her pulse just as another contraction took hold. “I think we’ll have to delay our afternoon out,” she said through gritted teeth.

  “You seem to have far more pressing matters to deal with today.”

  Alice groaned. “I think you could be right.”

  He spoke to Odette in French and then taking Alice by the arm, helped her up. “You need to get upstairs, young lady,” he said in his strict tone that she recognised. This time, Alice thought, he didn’t seem at all scary.

  “Will you stay with me?” she asked, suddenly terrified to give birth.

  “I will,” he said. “I’m a doctor, aren’t I?”

  Chapter 28

  Gemma

  August - 2018

  Gemma helped Tom load the trestle tables onto the back of his pick-up, together with the chairs and everything else his mother had lent him for the party.

  “I’ll come with you to see her in the next day or so,” Gemma said. “I’d like to take her a bottle of something and some flowers as a thank you.”

  “I’m sure she’d like that,” he said, getting into the pick-up. “It was a shame she couldn’t make it to the party. Maybe next time?”

  “Yes, she’d like that.”

  She watched him go, relieved that the barn had finally been reinstated to its former tidy self and looked forward to meeting the woman responsible for bringing up this man who had unknowingly taught her to trust her instincts and be bold.

  She went back into the house to read more of Alice’s letters.

  Now that she was planning on staying she would need to work out how and where to live. But before she arranged anything definite, she needed to finish reading Alice’s letters. She still found it painful to come to terms with the knowledge that Ed had died. Whichever way she fantasised about their future, him dying had not ever been a part of it.

  Gemma still longed to know what had happened to Alice after Ed’s death, so taking the last batch of letters, she grabbed the rug from her armchair and took them outside. Wanting to make the most of each area at the farm, she lay the rug on the grass under the large oak tree and settled down to read.

  She slid the single sheet of paper out of the yellowing envelope and unfolded it. She stared at the letter thinking about Alice’s reason for returning to the farm and why there were no letters from Ed replying to the ones she wrote to him. How many women had needed to find a way to continue with their lives once they had lost husbands or sons? The First World War, Gemma thought. Wasn’t it supposed to be the war to end all wars? What a shame that had not been the case. She pictured Tom, until recently fighting in an army, the uniform and weapons different, but lives still changed permanently by the injuries sustained. At least now men without limbs has useful prosthetics to help them continue their lives, unlike those having to accept basic replacements that Gemma assumed were barely useful.

  She studied the peaceful, lush space around the farmhouse and listened. Nothing but birdsong and bees disturbing her. How had Alice and Ed managed to spend time in the poppy field, making love and planning their future with explosions echoing through their day? So much had changed, Gemma thought, yet so little when it came to matters of the heart.

  Tom. He was the first person who had ever believed in her or shown an interest in her life. Her mother had been disinterested in her nursing career and her father too emotionally exhausted from giving her mother all the attention and reassurance she needed to then have the energy to spend time on Gemma. For the first time in her life she felt confident enough to step off her planned route and follow her heart. Tom, the bravest man she knew, had shown her that it was never too late to be exactly what you wanted to be.

  Wishing to bring happiness to a place that had been a home to her and Alice, Gemma knew she had to find a way to persuade her father to let her buy the house. It was early in her relationship with Tom, but she was tired of being timid. She knew he had strong feelings for her, hadn’t he said so? Maybe the two of them could make a home for themselves here?

  She thought back to Odette losing her husband and sons in the war, then Alice returning to live here without Ed. And Gemma’s great-uncle had lived here alone for years, the house falling into disrepair around him. It was about time this farm witnessed some happiness. She and Tom would enjoy a future here even though Alice and Ed had been denied theirs.

  That was her new dream.

  She went inside and found her mobile phone. Turning it on, she sent a quick text to her father.

  Did you find out about your cousin and if his mother’s name was Alice?

  He must have had his phone right next to him, because he immediately replied. Yes, sorry. I meant to let you know. His mother was an Alice Le Breton. She was my mother’s much older sister.

  Impatient to speak to him, Gemma called her father. He answered immediately.

  “So, the farm has come full circle then.” She liked the idea, very much.

  “I suppose so,” he said.

  She could hear he was somewhere echoey. “Where are you, Dad?”

  “Airport. I’m accompanying your mother to Scotland. She’s the key note speaker for a legal conference. I thought I’d make the most of some sight-seeing.”

  “Sounds good,” she said, hearing his impatience at having to speak to her. Thinking of Tom and how he believed in her, she took a deep breath. “Dad, I want you to sell the farm to me.” She held her breath waiting for his reaction. When there was none, she added. “Dad? Did you hear what I said?”

  “Yes,” he said quietly. “You were only supposed to be there temporarily. Until you got over whatever it was that had upset you at work. I’m not sure I understand.”

  She hadn’t expected him to. “I know you asked me to renovate the farmhouse to get me away from moping in Jersey and you were right to do that,” she said. “But I’ve fallen in love with this place,” she said. “I’m going to put my flat on the market and I want you to agree to sell this place to me, as soon as I’ve got the funds to buy it off you. What do you think?”

  “Well, I don’t see why you can’t be the purchaser?”

  She could hear him mumbling to himself and wondered if he was actually conversing with her mother.

  “Tell her she’ll have to pay the going rate,” she heard her mother say in the background.

  Alice shook her head. It would have been nice for her mother not to see her as someone to guard herself against, but Gemma knew that would never change. Why would her mother change her behaviour when she didn’t see that the way she acted was unusual?

  “I’d expect to,” Alice said. “So, Dad, what do you say? I’ll contact an agent, get them to come out and do a valuation and then make you both an offer for the farm.” Encouraged by the excitement of forging ahead with her plan, she added, “Naturally, I’ll expect a significant discount for all the work I’ve done here.”

  “Yes, of course,” her father said and Gemma could sense that he was smiling. “I’m very
proud of you, Gemma,” he said quietly, just as she was about to disconnect the phone.

  Stunned by this affirmation, Gemma said, “Thanks Dad, that means a lot.” She ended the call and stared at the screensaver of the Brighton Pier. “We’ll soon change this photo,” she said, striding outside and up to the poppy field.

  She raised her camera, breathing in the warm air and took a test photo. Checking it to ensure she’d captured as much of the scarlet covered field, she lowered it slightly and took several more. “Perfect,” she said, smiling, already planning to make the photo her new screensaver.

  “I thought so,” Tom said, behind her.

  Gemma spun round to face him, laughing. “What?”

  “That the scene in front of me is perfect.”

  Gemma turned to look out over the poppies. “I can’t imagine anywhere else I’d rather be.”

  Tom came up behind her, slipped his arms around her waist and said, “Not the poppies,” he whispered, sending shivers down her neck. “The exquisite woman taking a photo of them.”

  Gemma smiled. Today was turning out to be exceptionally good.

  They stared at the view. Gemma closed her eyes, savouring being held in his arms. This was the future she wanted, enjoying Tom’s company and living here. She was glad she finally had the nerve to fight for it.

  “I spoke to Dad and told him I want to buy the farm,” she said.

  “Good for you,” Tom said, kissing her neck and making her tingle all over. “And?”

  “He agreed.”

  “I’m so pleased for you, Gemma.”

  She turned to face him, slipping her arms around his neck. “Is that all?”

  Tom raised an eyebrow. “Inside I’m dancing,” he said. “I’m just doing my best to act cool.”

  Gemma giggled. “You, Tom Holloway, are the coolest man I know.”

  “You think?” He asked, and she nodded. “Would you still think I was cool, if I told you that I loved you?”

  Gemma bit her lower lip. “You do?”

  “Yes,” he said, kissing her. “Well?”

  “I love you, too,” she said, breathless from excitement.

  “I meant do you still think I’m cool,” he said, eyes twinkling mischievously.

  Gemma gasped. “That’s so mean,” she said, lowering her hands and tickling his sides. “I thought you were asking if I loved you, too.”

  “Stop it,” he laughed, making a grab for her wrists to hold them away. “I hate being tickled.”

  “Then behave yourself,” she said, trying her best to keep a serious face.

  Tom pulled her wrists around his waist. “I like them there,” he said, letting go and taking her face in his hands. “And I like this.” He kissed her. And kissed her again.

  Gemma sighed, losing herself in the sensation of his firm lips on hers.

  Finally, Gemma said, “Would you like to come and live here with me?”

  Tom stared at her for a moment. “I can’t think of anything I’d like more.”

  Chapter 29

  Alice

  August 1919

  Alice sat cross-legged in the poppy field, her baby snoring gently in her lap. Resting her hands on the cool earth behind her she closed her eyes finding it hard to believe that it was already one year since she and Ed had conceived their baby in this very place. As the heat of the sun warmed her face, she sensed his presence. It was a relief to know she had done the right thing returning to live at the farmhouse.

  She was grateful to Odette for agreeing to stay with her until the baby was born and she treasured their friendship. But now it was time for Odette to move on with her own life. At least now Alice had someone else to write to and more importantly, Odette would write back. She still missed Ed horribly, but living here alone with baby Stuart and her memories, helped. She wanted to share her peaceful day, so decided to write to Ed again this evening, when the baby had been put to bed.

  It was easier to cope, now that she had resumed her letter writing to him. The release of her thoughts on paper as she shared the small events in her new life went some way to alleviating the loneliness of living their future by herself.

  Alice glanced at the basket containing the dead poppy heads she’d collected earlier. She would store these in the cool pantry, she thought. Then, when they were dried, she would bring the baby out to the field and scatter them as a memorial to Ed. The thought boosted her.

  The baby moved his legs before settling once again. Alice pulled the muslin sheet draped from her right shoulder that was shading him. He was a happy little boy, so like his papa, she mused. Her mood dipped briefly as she remembered how Ed would never hold this little cherub in his arms. She was going to be the one to teach him to swim and ride a bicycle. She took a shuddering breath and wiped her eyes with a corner of the muslin. She was determined to do all the things for baby Stuart that she knew Ed would want to do.

  She pulled the telegram she had received from Jack Sullivan the previous afternoon from her pocket to read.

  Arriving in Doullen. Looking forward to spending time with my god-son. Hope all is well. Jack

  “Alice.”

  Thinking she could hear her name being called, she tilted her head. Surely Jack couldn’t be here already?

  “Alice?” a deep voice called out.

  It was him. Alice grinned. She went to stand up, carefully cradling her baby, she peered towards the house and saw him walking towards her waving.

  “Jack,” she called. “I didn’t expect you to arrive until later. Wait there,” she said, not wishing him to disturb any more of the poppies than she had already done by walking into the field. “I’ll come to you.”

  He did as she asked, smiling as he waited for her. His eyes connected with the bundle she was carrying. “Stuart is sleeping soundly, I see,” he said as she reached him. “I can’t believe he’s so big already!”

  Neither could she. “He’s such a contented baby,” Alice said. “I’m so lucky.” She pushed away the pang of pain reminding her that she wasn’t as lucky as she had hoped. “The sun is very strong out here, I think we should go.”

  His eyes went to the basket of poppies. “Shall I carry those for you?”

  “Yes, please.” She waited while he fetched the basket. “It’s a sweltering day. We’re making the most of the poppies.”

  He stared at the view ahead. “They do make a spectacular display,” he said, before continuing, “It occurred to me that I never conveyed to you how very sorry I was when Captain Woodhall was killed,” he said matter-of-factly. “He was a good man and fought hard to survive.”

  Alice cleared her throat. “You did tell me once,” she said. “Unfortunately, he was one of many who died too soon.”

  Jack stopped walking. “He was. But he was the one you loved, and for that reason, I was especially saddened by his death.”

  Alice’s step faltered. What a strange thing to say, she thought, determined not to let her grief for Ed come to the surface today. “Come inside, it’s cooler in there. I can pour us fresh lemonade. I made it yesterday.”

  She indicated a seat at the table for him to take and carried the baby up to her bedroom, laying him gently into his cot. She pulled the cotton curtains closed in front of the open window, to take the brightness out of the room.

  Returning to the living room, Alice smiled. “Sorry, I didn’t hear your reply. Lemonade?”

  He nodded. “That sounds perfect.”

  She served the drinks and sat opposite him as they exchanged pleasantries.

  He glanced down at his hands, holding the cool glass for a few seconds. Then, looking back at her across the table, he said. “I found myself unable to get you from my mind, Alice.”

  She was unsure if she had misunderstood him. “You mustn’t worry about me, I’m fine here with Stuart. We’re pretty organised now with our routine. I’ll admit it was a little strange when Odette first left, but I now find that I’m enjoying the solitude.”

  She noticed a sad
ness about him. “Is there something wrong? You can always confide in me, we’re friends, aren’t we?” Alice thought of her relief that Jack had been there to assist with Stuart’s birth and their growing closeness since then.

  “I worried about you losing the captain. It seemed even more tragic as he had fallen so near to the signing of the amnesty.”

  Alice took a sip of her lemonade to shift the lump in her throat. She couldn’t understand why he was talking about Ed so much.

  “You don’t mind me being so forthright?”

  She was unsure but shook her head. “No, please continue.”

  He took a deep breath. “My experiences of the war have made me somewhat reckless, so I’ll simply say my piece.”

  “Go on,” she said, intrigued, wishing he didn’t look so troubled.

  “Alice, I’ve always had feelings for you.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  He pushed the glass aside. “I’m aware that you probably still love the captain. I see you with his child and had meant to be satisfied at simply being your friend.” He leant forward slightly, raking his hands through his hair. “I never want to jeopardise our relationship,” he said. “But I feel compelled to ask if you,” he hesitated. “If at some point in the future, your feelings might change towards me?”

  “Romantically?” She stood up, shocked.

  “Yes.” He rested his hands on the table. “Alice, I’ve loved you from the first moment you entered my ward. My dearest wish is to have a future with you. And with Stuart.” He took a deep breath. “There, I’ve said it.”

  “And if not?” she asked, trying to take in what he’d said.

  “If that is not possible, then I’ll be content to be your friend as now.”

  Stunned, she stared at the dark-haired man she had admired for so long. Hadn’t he dedicated the last four years of his life to saving others? Now she thought of it, hadn’t he also been there for her when she most needed someone? He was handsome with looks that any woman would find attractive. And she liked him.

 

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