The Returning Tide

by Liz Fenwick

  ‘I’ve made you cry.’

  I shook my head.

  ‘I have,’ he said.

  ‘No. Something else has.’

  He brushed the tears away with his thumb. ‘What is it?’

  ‘First, kiss me again.’

  I wanted to remember this moment forever, for I knew it would be the last time. I clung to him, wanting to imprint everything into my memory. ‘Hold me tight,’ I whispered against his neck.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  I couldn’t keep it from him any longer. I knew Amelia was telling our parents she was pregnant while I hid away with Bobby. They would be reviewing her options. Grandmother would be giving her thoughts on the matter. Banished to Scotland to have the child then give it up for adoption. Use Father’s connections and have an abortion. But mostly they would want to know who the father was, for they knew it wasn’t Eddie. I didn’t know what she would say. But I understood that Bobby needed to know that Amelia was carrying his child.

  ‘There’s no way to say this that will make it any better.’

  He frowned.

  ‘Amelia is pregnant.’

  He closed his eyes.

  ‘You didn’t wear a French letter, did you?’

  He shook his head then looked out to the bay. His shoulders fell. The water below us was glass-like, the tide high. Nothing disturbed the picture, not even a ship heading to Falmouth.

  ‘I thought you should know.’

  He nodded.

  ‘I don’t know what she will do.’

  He turned to me. ‘What do you mean?’ His skin went pale, making his blue eyes stand out. ‘You don’t mean she would get rid of it?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ All I could be certain of was that Amelia didn’t know what to do.

  ‘She can’t.’ He grabbed my hand. ‘I can’t let that happen.’

  ‘I know.’ I brought his hand to my lips and kissed it. ‘We must go to them and tell them that you will marry her.’

  ‘Oh God.’ His eyes filled with tears. ‘Why couldn’t it have been you? It should have been you.’

  ‘I know.’ My gut twisted. I wanted to double over with the pain, but I needed to make this as easy as possible for him.

  ‘I want to do the right thing, but I …’

  ‘This is the right thing.’ A spasm passed through me. He would never be happy knowing that a child of his was out there somewhere, or that the child had been aborted.

  Tears rolled down his cheeks. I wiped them away, then took his hand in mine and led him out of my hiding place, up the pathway, and back towards the house.

  We stopped before heading in. ‘I love you.’ I kissed him one last time. His glance was so full of love and sorrow that it was hard to separate them. His tears had dried, the soldier returned. We walked in side by side.

  Forty-Three

  Windward, Mawnan Smith, Falmouth, Cornwall

  25 September 2015

  Lara didn’t register much of the scenery on the journey to Windward. As she drove, her mind couldn’t help but go over the events of the previous day. Elle had slept for most of it, but she had at least eaten the grilled mackerel that Lara had served on a bed of chunky salsa, made from ingredients found in the garden. There had been no further discussion or questions yesterday, and Lara hoped that today might be different, especially since the doctor was due to visit.

  She didn’t want to upset either Elle or Jack, yet her fingers twitched with tension and excitement. She was so close to discovering what had happened. Somehow Grandie had made a huge mistake. The poetry book from Adele to Amelia was on the back seat. She hoped to be able to ask Elle about it today.

  A tractor came towards her along the narrow lane, and this time she reversed quickly out of its way without her nerves taking over. Finally, the gates to Windward appeared and as she pulled in she realised with surprise how much she was enjoying spending time with Jack. She parked next to a car she didn’t recognise, out of which an old man was clambering. Once upright, the man glanced over at her and smiled. ‘Good morning, beautiful,’ he said, and bowed slightly to her.

  ‘Good morning,’ she replied.

  ‘Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Eddie Carew, and you must be Amelia’s great-granddaughter.’

  Lara inhaled and stood clutching the handle of the rear door of the car.

  ‘May I assist?’

  ‘Thank you, but no.’ She collected the poetry book from the back seat along with her bag. ‘I’m Lara.’

  ‘What a delightful name.’ They walked toward the house. ‘I hear my dear friend isn’t well.’

  She nodded.

  ‘I’m afraid seeing you throws light onto the past,’ he said, and sighed.

  ‘Is that bad?’ As they walked together towards the kitchen, she studied his face, creased with lines that told so many stories. Right then, she wanted to hear them all.

  He stood back to allow her to enter the house first. ‘Not bad, but it certainly hasn’t been easy.’ He studied her with soft brown eyes that were full of kindness. ‘You know, you look so like my love that it hurts.’

  ‘Your love?’ She frowned.

  ‘Yes, I was engaged to Amelia.’

  She gasped in surprise. He gave a dry laugh in reply. ‘Let’s take a short stroll before we go in,’ he said.

  Lara nodded and they headed out to the large sweep of lawn that overlooked the bay.

  ‘That,’ he said softly, pointing up to the window of Elle’s room, ‘is your great-aunt Adele.’

  It was what she had suspected but it still surprised her. ‘My great-grandfather’s first love.’

  ‘Yes, and the twin sister of mine.’

  ‘Oh my God.’ Lara stood still for moment, letting the information sink in.

  ‘I don’t know the details. Adele has never spoken about it and I can understand that.’ He smiled. ‘But I came back from the Far East to find that my fiancée had married Adele’s American and had given birth to his child.’

  Lara reached out to him as he continued to speak. ‘You see, she thought I was dead. And, to be honest, when I found out what had happened, I wished I was.’

  ‘I don’t know what to say.’ Lara couldn’t bear to look into his eyes. The pain inside him was plainly too raw, even after seventy years.

  ‘Tell me about Amelia,’ he said.

  ‘I’m afraid I can’t. She drowned when my grandmother Betty was four.’

  He took a breath and looked out to sea.

  ‘That’s why I came on this trip. You see, my great-grandfather’s last word was “Adele”.’

  Jack came around the house to where they were standing by the end of the lawn near a footpath heading into the trees. ‘I see you’ve met.’

  Lara nodded. ‘How is she?’

  ‘Sleeping again, but she ate breakfast.’ He stood with his arms across his chest.

  ‘Good. I could use a decent cup of coffee, young man.’

  ‘Follow me.’ Jack led the way into the house but Lara didn’t follow. She walked to the far wall and sat down, looking out at the sea. There was so much to think about. She opened the poetry book and looked at the inscription. Christmas 1943. She flipped through the pages, trying to see if any of the poems had notations or anything to shed some more light on Amelia.

  15 August 1945 – VJ Day

  My mother held Amelia’s hand, Father paced the sitting room and Grandmother looked out of the window at her roses while Bobby and I stood side by side, his arm making light contact with mine. My fingers itched to hold his hand, but if I did, I knew I wouldn’t have the strength to let go. Amelia looked up at me with her hand resting protectively on her abdomen. That told me what my father wanted to do about this. I could see that, in many ways, it would be the easiest solution. It would even mean that I could still have Bobby – but I knew if that happened he would never forgive himself, and would never again be the man I loved.

  Father stopped walking and glared at me. ‘Now isn’t the time for any happy news.�
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  ‘Amelia, please take a walk with Bobby.’ I looked at them both. I could read the question in my sister’s expression but she stood and came towards us. I offered an encouraging smile to Bobby and stepped aside so that they could head out together.

  Father waited until they had left the room before turning to me. ‘Just what was that about?’

  ‘I have a story to tell.’

  ‘I don’t bloody well have time for stories. Amelia has been unforgivably stupid. Right now we need to act and do so swiftly.’

  I took a deep breath and looked at Mother. She was a mess, her eyes red and her skin lacking all colour. I knew I could solve this – as long as Amelia said yes to Bobby. ‘I don’t know how much Amelia has told you.’

  Father turned from watching Amelia in the garden. ‘She was blind drunk on VE Day and had sex with a stranger.’

  I silently thanked my sister for trying to protect Bobby and me, but it wouldn’t work. ‘She was drunk but it wasn’t a stranger.’

  Grandmother turned from staring at her roses. ‘Don’t leave us hanging on that.’

  I took a deep breath. ‘It was Bobby, my fiancé.’

  ‘Your what?’ Mother sputtered her words.

  ‘Bobby, like many, was drunk and saw Amelia that day,’ I said. ‘I’m sure we don’t need any more details but he thought she was me.’

  ‘Dear God.’ Grandmother rose and went to sit beside Mother.

  ‘Yes.’ I sighed.

  Father’s glance bored into me. ‘So your sister is pregnant with your fiancé’s spawn.’

  I nodded. My legs wobbled but I locked my knees. Someone had to be strong here. Out of the corner of my eye I could see through the window, out to the garden – Bobby was holding one of Amelia’s hands. He then put an arm around her shoulders. I looked away.

  ‘So what is happening out there?’ said Grandmother, pointing at the window.

  ‘Bobby is proposing marriage.’

  ‘Honourable but unnecessary,’ she replied. ‘I think your father is right. We need to act quickly. It’s best to abort the baby and not ruin three or four lives.’ She grabbed her cane and stood.

  I glared at her. I understood what she was saying but she was wrong – none of us would walk away from this whole, no matter what steps we took. All I wanted was the least amount of harm to add to what had already been caused.

  It wasn’t for me to explain. I had done all I could do.

  The only thing left for me was to stand there with them, waiting, until Bobby and Amelia re-entered the house and came back into the room.

  ‘Are congratulations in order?’ Father clenched his jaw.

  Amelia nodded. I could feel her calmness, but I couldn’t look at the two of them any more. More than anything else, I needed to leave. ‘I’ll be off,’ I said, and before anyone could reply, I dashed from the room. My sister’s voice followed me up the stairs, but I did not falter. My bag was still packed. I pulled the veil out and put it on the bed, then locked my case and was down the back staircase in moments.

  25 September 2015

  ‘What’s this foolishness of nearly dying on me?’ said Eddie as he limped into the room. He wore a tweed jacket, thick corduroys and a checked shirt with a cravat neatly tied at his neck – the image of bygone days. He put the two glasses and the bottle of single malt whisky he was carrying down on the bedside table.

  ‘Come on, Delly, we’ve lived through too much to go feeble now.’ He poured two large measures and handed me a glass. ‘This is foolish. Just because Amelia’s great-granddaughter has turned up.’ He straightened his cravat. ‘We should rejoice. She is a beautiful girl and something good came from an unfortunate affair.’

  My eyes filled. He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped away my tears. ‘You silly old thing.’

  ‘I am.’ I touched his hand and he stilled.

  ‘It’s all water under the bridge now,’ he said gently. ‘I’m sure we’d both do things differently if we could.’

  ‘I would but Amelia had little choice.’ I swallowed.

  ‘I know. She had such a gentle heart.’ A tear slipped down his cheek. ‘Wasted lives. The only good that came out of it was the child, and through her Lara.’

  ‘There’s so much you don’t know.’

  He looked into his glass before taking a big swig. ‘You don’t have to say.’

  ‘But I do. Now, after all these years, I do.’ I leaned against the cushions and Eddie sat on the bed holding my hand.

  ‘Then tell me.’

  I sipped the whisky, thinking, trying to find the right words.

  ‘Why don’t you let me begin?’ he said, and stroked my cheek. ‘I was a mess and worse when I found out what had happened.’ He shook his head. ‘I had to go away to be far from our memories together so I moved to France. I didn’t come home until I was forced to deal with the house when Mother died in the late sixties.’

  ‘I remember. You came to see me.’

  ‘I did.’ He shook his head. ‘It was worse than I’d thought, seeing you but seeing her … if you know what I mean.’

  I nodded. ‘I imagine we both aged alike.’

  He looked up and then away. I frowned.

  ‘How did you cope?’ he asked quietly. ‘How did you let them marry?’

  I took a long sip of the whisky. ‘It was the only choice. Amelia had been wrong to sleep with Bobby but then she’d just found out that you were missing presumed dead.’ I turned the glass around in my hands. ‘Once I told him that she was pregnant, the die was cast.’ Eddie held my hand and stroked it. I couldn’t stem the tears. ‘He was Catholic and honourable and my sister could barely kill a fly.’ I wiped my face with Eddie’s handkerchief. ‘I had to be brave and do the right thing.’

  ‘Oh, my darling girl.’

  ‘What have I done?’

  ‘I don’t know, but that beautiful woman downstairs belongs to you. All is not lost.’

  I thought of Jack. If she could help save him, then maybe that was true.

  Forty-Four

  Windward, Mawnan Smith, Falmouth, Cornwall

  25 September 2015

  A gust of wind lifted Lara’s hair and covered her eyes. She tucked it behind her ear and glanced at the bay. White caps were appearing out in the distance. She’d lost track of time sitting in the garden reading poetry. It had been ages since she’d last done so. Looking back at the book, she tried to turn the page but it was stuck. Gently she eased it apart and found an open yellowed envelope. The glue to seal it had attached to the page. It had covered Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s ‘How do I love thee’. The last line of the poem was underlined in faint pencil: I shall but love thee better after death.

  Lara’s hand shook and she struggled to read the spidery script on the envelope.

  Mr Robert Webster

  Eventide

  Falmouth Heights

  Falmouth

  Massachusetts

  There was no stamp on it. She swallowed the lump in her throat, unsure what the letter would say, but she read it anyway.

  Dear Bobby,

  I tried. You tried. You look at me and see my sister then you see me and the light in your eyes disappears. I know you being away makes it easier for both of us. We don’t have to pretend but Elizabeth needs a father. I can live without a husband, or I thought I could.

  My mother has written. Amidst her ramblings about home she dropped in the news that Eddie is alive. He was a prisoner of war, he lost a leg, but she says that none of that matters. She writes that his mother told her that what has destroyed him is my betrayal. Then she goes on to talk about the flower show.

  I can’t tell you about how I feel. How alone I am. I can’t tell anyone. This is all trapped inside me and I can’t escape. I want a divorce.

  It wasn’t signed or really finished, as the handwriting tailed off on the last word. From the look of it, Grandie had never even read it. Lara turned it over, looking for more clues, but found nothing else.

  ‘You�
��ve been out here for a while.’ Jack handed her a mug of tea. ‘Are you OK?’

  She nodded.

  He sat next to her. ‘What’s that?’

  ‘I’m not sure.’ She gave it to him and watched him scan the contents.

  ‘Is Bobby your great-grandfather?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You think my grandmother is related to Amelia.’

  ‘I know she is.’

  He frowned.

  ‘Eddie told me. They were twins.’

  He shook his head. ‘Maybe we should show this to my grandmother. Eddie’s with her.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Lara took a sip of the tea.

  He ran a hand through his hair and gave Lara a half-smile. ‘No, but I don’t know what else to do.’

  The door was shut and Jack knocked before entering. Both Eddie and Elle had tears in their eyes.

  ‘What’s going on here?’ Jack grinned, looking at the whisky bottle. ‘Drinking in the bedroom again, Gran? Not sure the doctor would approve.’

  Elle looked at Lara. ‘I have something to say to Lara and it’s not easy.’ She held out a hand to her and then her glance fell to the letter still in Lara’s hand. ‘I recognise that writing.’

  Lara gave it to her. ‘Does it make sense to you?’

  As Elle read the letter, her hand flew to her mouth. Once she had finished reading, she nodded slowly.

  ‘I don’t understand,’ said Lara. ‘Grandie would never divorce.’

  ‘I know.’ Elle took a deep breath.

  ‘Be brave.’ Eddie walked to the other side of the bed and placed an arm around her. ‘It’s in the past.’

  She nodded. ‘There’s no way to make this easier.’ She took a big sip of whisky. ‘I loved Bobby Webster more than I can begin to say.’

  Lara went to speak but Elle raised her hand. ‘Please hand me those letters,’ she said, and pointed to the desk.

  Jack gave them to her. ‘Gran, is this a good idea?’

  ‘I doubt it, but we have begun. I will open the last letter I received from Amelia first.’

  Lara put her hand over Elle’s. ‘When did it come?’