He made his way to the railway station and checked the schedules. He hadn’t expected to find a train that would take him directly to Winthrop-on-Hart. The best he could do was to take a line to Winchester. From that point, there would be one more short ride on another train to his beloved wife. His foot hurt terribly. It throbbed, and pains shot up and down his leg. Before he continued on his way to Hampshire, he knew he had no choice but to see a physician. Therefore, he stopped a fellow about to cross the street and asked where the nearest hospital was located. He learned that there was a military hospital in Colchester, which was the city connected to Harwich. He immediately found his way there, and after what seemed an interminable wait, he was seen by an emergency physician.
He told his story to the doctor, who marvelled that Win and Will had successfully escaped, and he examined Win’s foot. As Win had suspected, it had healed wrong. The physician discussed amputation, but Win refused to consider such a thing. He wanted to be seen by his friend Dr. Drew in Winthrop-on-Hart. If indeed amputation was necessary, he wanted it performed in a London hospital.
So the Colchester doctor used a bandage to rewrap the foot and ankle, much as Will had done. Will thanked the man for his assistance and hurried on his way. All he wanted was to return to the small cottage he had built for his beautiful wife.
Upon leaving the medical facility, he found his way to the train station again. He knew he needed to report to the military authorities but was willing to take the chance on returning to his home first. Surely, there would not be any harsh penalty if he chose that route. It was completely obvious that his wound was, at the very least, a blighty. Blighties were injuries that were considered serious enough to render a soldier incapable of performing any further military duties, thus calling for discharge, yet not serious to cause permanent disability. Win was not at all certain that his wound wasn’t beyond a blighty and might very well cause permanent disability. Still, seeing his child and Josephine were more important to him than anything in the world—even the possibility of having his foot amputated.
The station in London was swarming with military men in uniform. He wished he could collect a new uniform, but he didn’t have any desire to be detained by English authorities while questioned about his imprisonment. That could wait. He boarded the train for Winchester and slept during the entire journey. When the conductor announced that the train had reached Winchester, Win knew he wasn’t far from home. He considered placing a call to Winthrop Manor, where the auto would have been dispatched immediately to collect him, but he had no idea what the situation was at his former home. Hopefully, due to his long absence, his parents had reconciled with Josephine, but he couldn’t be certain. Thus, he boarded the train to Winthrop-on-Hart, knowing it was the last leg of his wretched journey.
At long last, the train pulled into the small station, with which he was so familiar. As he stepped from the car, he spotted the stationmaster. They were well-acquainted.
“By God,” Walter Pitts shouted.
Win grinned and limped his way toward the man.
“I can’t believe what my eyes are telling me. Is that really you, Lord Winterdale? Everyone in these parts has been well certain we’d lost you to the damn Huns. Yet, here you are. Limping, are you? Are you badly wounded? Where in blazes is your uniform?"
"I’ve been through it, Walt. Pretty badly,” answered Win. "I was captured and incarcerated in a Dutch POW camp. I was bayoneted when I was taken prisoner. That’s the reason for the limp. The damn Hun drove the thing right through my foot. I had it looked at in the hospital at Harwich, but I want to see Tom Drew, over in Cloverdale. Then I’ll undoubtedly travel to London. The Harwich physician mentioned amputation. I hope it doesn’t come to that. I could have stopped over in London, but I wanted to see Josephine so badly.”
“How did you manage to get out of there?” asked Walter.
“Another chap and I managed to think up a foolproof scheme to escape, and we pulled it off. I just wanted to get home. Can you find me a ride to my wife’s cottage?” he asked.
“You bet, Captain. I’ll take you myself. There ain't another train coming through for three hours. Here, let me help you to my auto.”
Win leaned on the older man and was delighted to slide onto the front seat of his car, which had definitely seen better days. The door closed, and Walt walked around to the right side, arranging himself behind the steering wheel.
“What is the news, Walt?” asked Win. "What do you hear of my wife and family?”
“Family, indeed,” exclaimed Mr. Pitts. “You’ve a fine boy. I heard your wife is doing well. I haven’t seen her, or any of your kin, for that matter. I’m sure she’s busy with the baby and such.”
My God, thought Win. A boy. A son. What spectacular news. “Have you heard what Josephine named our son?” he asked.
“Let me see—someone told me… I’m fairly certain it’s Andrew. Named after her brother who died in France. I think she’s calling him Andy. It’s a right fine name.”
“Yes, I like it,” Win answered. “We had settled on George, but when her brother was killed, she obviously changed her mind. I imagine she stayed with the second name choice—her maiden name, Chambers. A good, solid, English name. Andrew Chambers Winthrop. God, I cannot wait to see him and, naturally, Josephine. I know she’s probably been sick with worry. I wasn’t able to get any letters out of the camp. I was in the Netherlands. If she wrote, it would have been through the Red Cross, and I never received any letters. She most likely thinks I’m dead.”
“Well, she’ll be a mighty happy woman to see you. I’d suggest you might think of shaving, though.” Walt laughed. "I know me own wife don’t like it when I grow a beard. They aren’t allowed in the military, are they?”
“Oh, they’ve eased up on regulations a bit. But you’re right. I have a razor in my haversack. I just need some soap and water.”
“We can take care of that. I’ll stop at the Wayside Inn. After that, we’ll almost be to your cottage. They’ll be pleased to assist you. You want to look your best for your beautiful wife and that new babe.”
“Great idea, Walt.”
Win disengaged from the auto and allowed Walt to help him as they walked inside together. The inn had a men’s room and a ladies' room off their lobby. Win disappeared through the men’s door with his kit under his arm, leaving Walt sitting in a club chair to wait.
When Win returned, he looked like a different man. He wished he had his uniform, but the suit he’d purchased in Harwich was a great improvement over the pitiful, oversized clothing he and William had worn throughout their journey. Win had even made an attempt at trimming his hair and hadn’t done a terrible job. Clean-shaven and even wearing new men’s cologne, he looked a lot more like the Win with whom Josephine had fallen in love.
Walt started for the doorway, but Win asked him to wait a moment. He’d decided to try to place a call to the cottage—the local operator would know if Josephine had a connection. If it was all right for him to tidy up before seeing his beloved, then it was only right for him to give her fair warning of his arrival. He walked to the front desk and asked the young man who stood there if he had a telephone Win might use.
The boy nodded cordially. “Aren’t you Jim Winthrop?”
Win smiled. “I’m surprised anyone would know who I am. I’m a bit rough around the edges. A fellow military chap and I escaped a German prison camp in Holland over a week ago. I’ve got to report to the military authorities, but I have a beautiful wife and a new baby waiting for me at home, so the army can wait a bit longer.”
“I’m Johnny Blair. My dad was David Blair. I live down the high street in Winthrop-on-Hart.”
"Oh, certainly, I know David. We used to go hunting together when we were very young. How is he?”
“He was killed in France. He wasn’t there long. They got him straightaway.”
“Oh, God, I’m sorry, Johnny. Your dad was a fine chap. Is your mum holding up all right?”
>
“Yes. She’s got the smaller ones to look after, so she keeps busy. They're five of us in all. I’m the oldest.”
“It’s lucky you aren’t old enough to join up. Your mum needs you here, no doubt.”
“Well, welcome home to you,” the boy exclaimed. "I’ll bet you could tell some stories.”
“Yes. Pretty harrowing at that. Thanks for the welcome. Well, I want to try to reach Josephine—give her a warning that I’ll be there shortly.”
“Of course. I’ll go in the back and sort mail, so you can have some privacy.”
Win picked up the phone and was connected with the operator. After she’d identified herself, he enquired as to whether she had a listing for Josephine Winthrop. There was a pause, and then she replied.
“Indeed, I do. Would you like me to ring her number?”
“Yes…please.” Win was as nervous as he could ever remember being. After so long, he was about to hear her lyrical voice.
He could hear the telephone ring, and then she said hello.
“Josephine? It’s Win. Darling, I’m home.”
“Win? My Win? How can you be home? Where are you? Oh, goodness, I’m all undone.”
“Walt Pitts, the stationmaster, offered to drive me to the cottage. I’m only a few miles away.”
“Oh, Win. I can’t believe this. I’ve prayed and prayed for you.”
“I understand we have a little son. Andrew Chambers Winthrop, is it?”
“Yes, darling. We did. But, Win, someone has kidnapped him. It happened several days ago. Scotland Yard is on the case. I’m frantic. Oh, I’m so terribly glad you’re here. Please, just come home, and I’ll tell you everything.”
“Kidnapped. Oh, my god. Of course, I’ll be there as fast as we can drive. I love you, my angel.”
"I love you, too, Win. Please do hurry.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Win and Walter returned to the auto, continuing on their route to the cottage Win had built for her before he'd joined the military. Win’s mood had changed, going from anticipatory to anxious and uneasy. Who in the world would steal a tiny baby? What would their motive be? Money…? Had someone tried to demand a ransom for the safe return of his child?
A few minutes later, Walt pulled the car into the gravelled drive at the cottage. Before Win could extricate himself from the auto, Josephine came running out of the front doorway. He opened the automobile door, and she literally fell into his arms. He held her tightly. Closing his eyes, he drank in her fragrance—hyacinth with a touch of lavender, which she’d always worn since the beginning of their relationship. It was difficult for him to believe he was holding his precious angel. He had dreamed of this moment since leaving her at Winthrop-on-Hart.
“Oh, Win. I feel as if God has answered my prayers. Never in my life have I needed someone more. Darling, we have a beautiful baby boy. Andrew Chambers Winthrop. I sometimes call him Andy. Is that all right with you?”
“Of course, sweetheart. But what is this about a kidnapping? What the hell were you talking about? I’ve been frantic since you said he’d been taken. Who would kidnap a baby, especially here in the country? You need to tell me all of the details quickly. How long has he been gone? How could something like that happen? God, Josephine, he’s our everything. Life has been a nightmare as it is, but this is the worst yet.”
“You need to come inside, and I’ll start at the beginning and tell you everything. I don’t want to let you go and would give everything if I didn’t have to tell you all of this. It truly is a nightmare.”
“Yes, of course, darling. Let me just say goodbye to Walt and thank him.” He climbed out of the vehicle and went around to the other side, where Walt was taking Win’s haversack from the back seat.
Win picked up his bag. “Thanks so much for bringing me home. It would have taken me much longer if you hadn’t offered to drive me. I’ll tell you more about what happened to Andrew later, once I learn the whole story.”
“You’re most welcome, sir. It was a pleasure to be of service to you. I hope everything turns out all right. Should I keep my mouth shut about your son being taken, or is it all right if I mention it to anyone I run into? Seems to me, the more people who know about it, the better the chances of his being found. Nevertheless, I’m no detective.”
“Tell anybody you want, Walt. You’re right. The more people who know, the more likely it is he’ll be found.”
“Will do, my lord. I wish you well.” Walt climbed back in behind the steering and turned the auto in a circle and headed out to the main road back toward the rail station.
Josephine and Win entered the cottage. Win was mad with concern, and before they discussed anything else, he needed Josephine to tell him what was going on as far as the investigation into his son’s disappearance… Not to mention, how had the kidnapper gotten his hands on the child to begin with.
“Let’s sit at the table,” Win told her. “I can’t be on my feet much longer.”
Josephine hurried to pull out a chair for him. “Win! You’re limping! What happened? Are you hurt?”
“I’ll tell you everything later, darling.” Win slumped into the chair, leaving his bag on the floor right inside the doorway. “Right now, I need to know what happened to little Andrew.”
“Oh, Win, it’s so strange. I wanted to do some oil painting down by the stream, so I took Andy outside with me. I put him in his playpen, which I’d placed under the large elm. I wasn’t far from him at all. I lost myself in the beauty of the day, and I was preoccupied with the canvas I was working on. But the only time I wasn’t within steps of Andy was when I realised I’d left my paint smock inside. He was sleeping soundly in the playpen, so I dashed inside the kitchen, and after running around the cottage like a mad woman, I found it hanging on the back of the pantry door. I wasn’t gone three minutes, if that.”
She went on, giving him every detail about what had happened, and when she’d nearly finished speaking she had reached the part of the story where she was telling Win about the strange telephone call she’d received.
“Darling, could you tell anything—anything at all—by the voice.? An accent, a manner of speaking of any kind, any particular words?” Win asked.
“The person went on to say that it was absolutely necessary Andy have an upbringing of the sort Jay had. Obviously, whoever it was, they were referring to you as Jay. I figured many people in Winthrop-on-Hart probably called you that when you were growing up. It’s not an unusual by-name for James. Does that mean anything to you?” Josephine asked.
“My god! You bet it does. I have to get over to Winthrop Manor as quickly as I can,” Win practically shouted.
“Oh, Win, what did I say that causes you want to go to Winthrop Manor?”
“My pet, I can’t stop to tell you now. However, I’m just about one hundred percent certain I’m right. Please, come with me to the manor.”
“Yes, of course, I will. Especially if you think you know where Andy might be. We can take Uncle Roderick’s car. He’s bought a new one since you left and gave me the old one, so I could get around, if need be.”
“Yes. Come. There is no time to waste. I’ll try to explain a bit more while we’re driving over there,” said Win, as he plucked the key to the automobile from a hook in the kitchen.
Josephine had to almost run to keep up with him. She jumped into the automobile beside her husband, still not quite believing he was home. “Win, where have you been? Where is your uniform?”
“Sweetheart, I’ve so much to tell you. I was in a POW camp in Holland. From what I heard, some internment camps allowed mail to be sent and received, but the one I was in didn’t, so I couldn’t contact you. I went crazy wanting to know if you were all right and wanting to tell you I was fine. The place I was in wasn’t too terrible, compared to many I heard about. Anyway, another chap and I devised a scheme to escape, and it worked. We had a long slog before we finally reached a train. A damned Hun bayoneted me before I was taken prisoner. He
threw the bayonet right into my ankle. Actually, he could have killed me, so I guess I should be thankful. The wound needs to be examined by a good doctor, and I probably need surgery. I’m certain it didn’t heal properly, so I might have a permanent limp.”
“Oh, my poor Win. Are you in terrible pain?”
“I have been in pain for so long now, it seems normal.” He laughed ruefully.
“As for everything else, it will have to wait. My first priority is to find our son. My god, Josephine. You must have been insane with worry.”
“I have been frightened out of my wits, afraid for both Andy and you. Thank goodness, you’re home again. Oh, Win, I’ve missed you so much. We did get your letter about Andrew’s death. Of course, you can imagine the state Elisabeth is in because of that. When she read your letter, her heart broke. She’s back at Winthrop Manor now. I honestly don’t know if she’ll ever recover from the loss. I know I’d feel the same way if I’d lost you. Now you’re all I have in the world. You and Uncle Roderick and, hopefully, Andy. My parents are gone and my older brother is dead. I loved him so.”
“I understand, darling. How is your uncle. I’m sure he’s been worried sick, too.”
“Yes, he has. Of course, I thank God every day for Uncle’s presence. He has been my rock, really. He has stayed with me since Andy was taken. He often leaves and returns to his cottage during the day, in order to make certain everything is taken care of there, but then he come back to me at night. He’ll be so thrilled to know you’re home.”
Win turned the automobile into the gravelled driveway at Winthrop Manor. “I wondered if I’d ever see this place again,” he murmured. “It is good to see nothing has changed.”
He stopped the car in front of the house, and both he and Josephine immediately left the auto, climbing the few steps to the front entrance. Win no longer had a key, so he used the brass knocker.
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