by Mary Wood
Fear held her silent.
‘Madame?’ He was at the door. He was a stocky man in his forties. ‘Madame, I have to get back. Are you alighting or not?’
‘Yes. I – I . . . Thank you. Please unload my cases.’
‘But, Madame, there is no one here.’
‘I – I’ll be fine. Thank you.’
‘But—’
‘Look. Will you return for me in two days’ time? I will pay you well. I must stay. I must make enquiries in the area as to what has happened to my friends.’ Somehow she managed to compose herself, even though inside she was screaming in panic: Where are they? Where are my babies? Where are Petra and Aleksi? Oh God, my babies, my babies.
Thankful to have found the key where Aleksi always left it, hanging on a nail behind an old coat that hung in one of the outbuildings, Edith was at last alone. The kindly driver had been like a father-figure to her and had wanted to check that there were supplies for her before he left.
Oh yes, there were supplies. The pantry held enough food to sustain her for days: cheeses, preserves, flour and yeast, a ham even, hanging from the ceiling. Cured and dried, it would have lasted for months, but combined with the freshness of the cheese and eggs and the lack of growth sprouting from the potatoes, Edith knew Petra and Aleksi couldn’t have left the farm many days before her arrival. But they must have planned it, as all the livestock had gone – they must have sold everything.
As she moved frantically from room to room, her cries of pain and anguish echoed around the empty building. But nothing gave her any clues. There was nothing to tell her what had happened, and no leftover clothes or possessions of Petra’s or Aleksi’s, or her darling children’s personal belongings. Most cupboards, drawers and wardrobes were empty.
Going back down the rickety stairs and into the living and kitchen area, she saw, through tears that stung her eyes, a letter propped up against the still-ticking clock. Her name was scrawled across the front of the envelope. As she ripped it open, hope rose inside her, but it wasn’t from Petra:
My dearest Edith,
I am leaving this here in ease you ever return. I have not heard from you, but I will not give up hope. I came here just as soon as I could. Today is 17th July 1917. . .
Oh God, two days ago!
With shaking hands, Edith read on, hoping for a clue as to where Laurent might be now:
When I found the place deserted, I searched around the usual places for a key and found it. I have to confess it lifted my heart when I also found fresh food. This must mean that you haven’t left long ago, and that someone plans on returning. I hope whoever lives here does return and, if it is not you, they will make sure you receive this letter.
This last line Laurent had repeated in French.
By now your child will have been born, and I hope he or she is safe and well. I guess you may have returned to England?
One day, my darling girl, we will be together. Whatever troubles you will be behind you.
I am joining my regiment, and the British and Allied forces at Passchendaele. I hope this Third Battle of Ypres will end this bloody, senseless war. If it does, and I survive, I will seek you out and I will not give up on finding you, even if it takes me the rest of my life. For we are nothing when we’re not together.
Love needs no time. Love comes when we least expect it. Love is eternal.
Laurent x
‘Oh God . . . Oh God!’ Her fists thumped the table, her tears soaked her face, but she did not care. Her open-mouthed sobs racked her throat. Her pain deepened into despair. Laurent hadn’t received her letters and still didn’t know the truth about her. What would he think when he did? Oh, Laurent . . . Laurent. And my babies – my babies . . .
24
Jay and Eloise
London, September 1917
A love declared
‘I can’t believe Edith has abandoned this project, Jay. It is bad form of her!’
The now-completed Jimmy’s Hope House had been up and running for two weeks. They were sitting together in the office. It had been ten weeks since Edith had left for France.
‘My dear Eloise, she hasn’t abandoned it. She has asked us to continue with it, until the war ends.’
‘But how could she not tell us her plans? It’s as if she has duped us into taking care of things here. It was only going to be for a few weeks, and now she writes to tell us that she won’t return until her work is done – whether that coincides with the end of the war or not! I mean, who knows when the war will end? Let alone when the field hospitals will close. Why couldn’t she have been satisfied with helping the war effort by working in Shepherd’s Bush Military Hospital and continuing what she started here, instead of returning to Abbeville? This is all too much work for us, on top of our work for my charity.’
‘I can’t answer that. I somehow don’t think she planned it. Her letter said that she didn’t, and I believe her. I think it happened how it happened: being back in France, and so near to the war, she felt compelled to return to her post.’
Eloise fell silent. Jay could see from her face that she was very cross. Much of this, he knew, was down to her being tired. Ada did a wonderful job of heading the nannies and had recruited a team of cleaning and maintenance staff, but Jimmy’s Hope House was filling up rapidly and the administrative side had so far been down to himself and Eloise. Much of its success had been due to the contacts made through Eloise’s charity. All of her coordinators made referrals, on an almost daily basis, of orphaned children and widowed mothers in need of a break. This meant that the workload had increased at that rate too.
The unmarried-mothers unit hadn’t developed at all, however. In some ways that was a good thing, but in others it was a worry that they weren’t reaching those who might need their help. And if they did, without Edith here to take care of the medical side of things there wasn’t a lot they could offer. It was also strange how Edith had thought there would be genteel ladies in need of the charity. He couldn’t imagine ladies like Eloise and Edith ever being in the position of being unmarried mothers. But then there had been Andrina. Yes, Andrina could well have ended up in that position. He himself had been on the verge of. . . Oh God, how wrong that would have been! Yes, he had known his true position in life by then, but Andrina wasn’t the right person for him; he knew that beyond any doubt now. She had just been accessible, and her attentions had flattered him. But how long would it have been before he discovered his true love?
‘Eloise?’
As she looked up at him, he read the words, ‘I’m sorry.’
‘I know. You’re tired. But we will find a way. I have heard that the Military Hospital plans to rehabilitate the wounded by finding them jobs. Why don’t we approach them and see if any of the soldiers have administrative skills? We could appoint an administrative manager and a secretary. We could advertise for a nursing sister to oversee the health of the children, and recruit a governing board to vet potential adoptive parents for the children. What do you think?’
‘Yes, of course we can. I’m being silly. I’m cross with Edith, but mostly I’m afraid for her. Oh, why did she do this?’
‘Eloise, don’t. I can’t bear it when you are upset . . . It – it hurts. Eloise, forgive me, I have no right to speak to you of my feelings, for it is only just over a year since Andrina’s death. Such a short time.’
Her hand touched his face, quietening him and sending waves of desire through him. Her eyes held his: her beautiful hazel eyes that danced when she smiled, but which now held a depth of feeling that he dare not hope was for him.
‘Eloise, you must know how I feel?’
‘I do, Jay. I have waited . . .’
‘You return my feelings? Oh, Eloise.’ Neither of them seemed to move, and yet their bodies were now close. He could feel her breath on his face and her breasts brushing his chest as her breathing deepened, but still he felt afraid to do what he most wanted to do in all the world: hold her, kiss her.
‘Ho
w do you feel, Jay? I need you to tell me.’
‘I – I love you, Eloise. I love you with a love that fills me with joy and desire and happiness, but that would burst into something I feel I could hardly handle, if you felt the same for me.’
‘I do,’ she said in a breathless tone.
Her eyes closed, and her lovely full lips lifted to his. The moment he’d longed for had arrived. The touching of her lips with his own made a passionate feeling shudder through him, which he fought to control. The kiss, though beautiful and threatening to overwhelm him, wasn’t enough. He needed – no, he had – to take her to him and join his life to hers, in the ultimate act of love.
Her desire matched his own, and her hands caressed his back with a pressure that pulled him even closer to her. Now their bodies were moulded and he couldn’t hide his need, or prevent her from feeling it pressed against where he most wanted to be.
He knew he must pull away and calm the situation, but he couldn’t. Eloise was so willing, so giving and loving. His hand found and cupped her breast. The deep intake of breath that he felt her take told him of the pleasure this gave. Encouraged, he caressed the tip, felt the hardening of her nipple beneath her blouse.
Prising her lips open with his tongue, he savoured the delicious thrill of the feel of her tongue, and moved his own in and out of her mouth. He was lost. Lost in a world so removed from any he’d known that he needed to go further. Had to.
Pulling away from her, he guided her to the chaise longue under the window. But, halfway there, shame washed over him as Eloise positioned herself in front of him and said, ‘No. No, Jay, I can’t!’
‘Oh, my darling. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.’
‘No, darling, it wasn’t your fault. My love for you is so intense that I allowed us to lose control. I love you, Jay. Please make me your wife.’
Her words calmed him. The disappointment was only going to be temporary, because she loved him. She had asked him to marry her. ‘Now?’
Oh, how he wished he could hear her laughter. But he joined his with hers and the moment lightened.
‘Let us post the banns right away.’
‘But what about Father?’
‘I know he’ll agree. He’s spoken to me about our feelings towards one another, and has said it is about time that I did something about it.’
‘Really!’
‘Ha, no. I wish it were so. But surely he must suspect, and your mother, too. I have a feeling the whole world knows.’
‘I didn’t. I knew I loved you, but . . .’
‘And I knew I loved you.’
‘Oh, Jay’
They laughed together. But Jay knew he would feel no peace until he could complete what they had started, and he could really make her his.
Taking his handkerchief and using it to wipe her smudged lipstick didn’t help. Once more they were closer together than he could handle. The door opened and they shot apart. Looking at Ada as she entered, Jay read what she said.
‘Eeh, caught you red-handed! I beg your pardon, I just wanted some more of those ordering pads and another pen. Though I can’t get used to these posh nibs. I get into a reet mess. Ink all over me, and blotches on me paper. Give me a crayon any day.’
‘Er . . . er . . .’ Words failed him.
‘Carry on,’ said Ada, looking at them directly. ‘It’s about time you two got together, and if you want a bridesmaid, I’m your girl.’ With a bob and a bow, she left the room.
It took a second for the shock to wear off, but then the ridiculousness of the situation hit Jay, as it did Eloise. At just the same moment they doubled over in laughter. When they calmed, he had a happiness in him such as he’d never known.
‘You know, Eloise, I think loving someone is such a huge thing. It encompasses so much, and we have it all. We can work together, talk about anything together and laugh together, and now I know that the deeper side of love is going to be fantastic, too.’
A blush swept over her face, and a smile lit her eyes. Coming into his arms, he knew that she had spoken, but her head was snuggled into him, making it impossible for him to decipher what she had said, although he knew her words would be words of love. His world was almost complete.
25
Edith
Abbeville, late September 1917
Trying to heal
Edith, Connie, Nancy and Jennifer sat on the sand dunes looking out to sea. A ship glided along the horizon in the distance.
‘I reckon that’s the one our wounded will be on soon. It’s ’eading up towards Calais, and they are well on their way there by now.’
No one answered Connie, but Nancy spoke, changing the subject. ‘Well, you’re a morose lot. Come on. Let’s have a dip in the sea!’
‘Ooh, no, Nancy. It will be freezing!’
‘It’s always freezing, Edith, even in high summer. But it is a lovely day today and we’ll soon warm up. Come on!’
Nancy stripped off her jumper as she said this, revealing the top of her knitted swim-dress.
‘Oh, you came prepared then?’
‘I did, Jennifer. Didn’t you?’
‘No, I thought the same as Edith, that it would be too cold.’
‘Uh, soft like Joe-suds, you two posh bitches are. Come on, Nancy, I’m game. Though I’ll ’ave to swim in the nude, as I ’aven’t come prepared, either.’
‘You wouldn’t!’ Jennifer sounded astonished, but emitted a girlish giggle.
‘Watch me!’ said Connie.
Laughing like she thought she would never laugh again, Edith rolled her head backwards. Connie’s huge bosom, when let free, bounced up and down as she jiggled out of her long skirt, but that wasn’t anything compared to what her big bottom did when, naked as the day she was born, she ran towards the water.
‘Oh, Edith, have you ever seen anything so funny and yet so beautiful?’
This pulled Edith up. With those words came the realization that it was beautiful to see these lovely girls having fun, and hearing them squeal with delight. Suddenly she wanted to be part of it. ‘Come on, Jennifer, let’s join them.’
‘Oh, I couldn’t!’
‘Yes, you could. The lads know not to come down to the beach while we are having our time down here. It’s a court-martial offence to intrude on our privacy when we have our bathing dresses on, so no one but us will know.’
‘Ha, it’s a good job no one sees what goes on during the night!’
‘Jennifer! You and Mark?’
‘Yes, me and Mark.’
‘Well, be careful, old thing, you know where that can lead.’
‘Mark knows what he is doing.’
Yes, Mark knows. I knew too, but in the heat of a passionate moment I permitted it.
‘What’s that look for? I’m only human, Edith. I love Mark. And God knows I can’t wait for when all this is over and we can be married. Neither of us can wait. You wait until it happens to you!’
‘Oh, Jen.’
‘It has, hasn’t it?’
‘I don’t want to talk about it.’
A shout of ‘Hey, come on, it’s not so bad once your body gets used to it’ carried on the wind, and Edith shook the sad thoughts from her and stripped off her clothes, shivering more and more as she disposed of each layer.
‘Oh God, Edith. I didn’t know you had once been fat!’
‘I – I . . .’
Pulling her skirt back down over her stretch-marks, Edith wished the ground would open up. Jennifer could be very outspoken; she should have known Jennifer wouldn’t let anything pass. She’d been a fool to bare herself.
‘You can talk to me, Edith. I know there is something wrong. I have sensed it since you came back. You have to talk to someone, and I would never divulge anything you said.’
There was something about Jennifer that made you want to talk to her. Even though she had never received any training, she was a skilled counsellor. But no, if she needed to talk, Edith did so to Ada, in long letters in which she
poured out her heart. ‘There’s nothing to talk about. I’m fine. I went through a bad experience. And yes, I did put weight on – a lot of weight. During that time when I suffered memory loss the farmer’s wife just fed and fed me, as she did her husband. But it came off, though sadly it left me with these marks. I seem to be a pear-shape and to put it all on around my bottom half. They’ll fade with time. Now, I don’t know about you, but I’m going in – stretch-marks or no.’
The cold water took her breath away and masked her weeping heart.
It didn’t weep for long, as Connie started to splash her. Joining in the fun lifted Edith’s mood, and she found she could laugh. There was so much to cry about, but that didn’t make things better; laughing did. It healed you and made you able to cope.
Too cold to care what anyone else looked like, neither Connie nor Nancy seemed to notice the red weals on her thighs and stomach. She made no attempt to hide them. She didn’t care what Jennifer thought, or any of them. The marks were all she had to prove that she was a mother; that she had carried and nurtured two beautiful girls in her womb. She would wear them on her body with pride.
When they were back on duty later that day, an influx of badly injured men kept them busy. The stench around her brought the bile to her throat. She could stomach most things, but the awful smell of rotting flesh on living humans turned her stomach and her heart.
She looked up over her mask at Mark, who was helping her to amputate a leg. ‘Mark, some of the wounded are having to travel too far to get help. There doesn’t seem to be a good clearing station at the front any more.’
‘I know. These poor devils start off as the walking wounded. They have come back across the border from the Passchendaele battle. There are so few trucks now that it is a case of some walking while others ride, and then they swap over. The progress is slow. Too slow to get to us, and very few seem to have had first-line treatment.’