If I Were You

by Lynn Austin

  “That’s amazing.”

  “I think it’s more an indication of how desperate England is. We’re fighting for our very lives, so every able-bodied man and woman must do their bit. Even the aristocracy.”

  “You didn’t mention a boyfriend, but I imagine that a woman as lovely as you must have one.”

  Audrey blushed at his flattery. He didn’t seem the type to make a pass at every girl who walked by. His compliment felt genuine. “No boyfriend, I’m afraid. It turns out I’m hopeless at making small talk with earls and dukes—much to my mother’s dismay. As you may have guessed, Eve is the outgoing one and I’m the tagalong.”

  “It’s the same with Louis and me. He plows forward and I follow in his wake. And the reason I haven’t asked you to dance is because I’m terrible at it.”

  “I’m hopeless at dancing, too. Louis mentioned you have a longtime girlfriend back home?”

  “Right. Linda.” He paused and Audrey waited for him to say more. Most people lit up with gushing smiles when asked about the person they loved. It seemed unusual that Robert didn’t. “Linda and I have been together since junior high school. Our parents are old friends. Everyone has always assumed we’d be married, someday.”

  “You don’t seem too enthused by the idea. May I ask . . . are you in a situation similar to mine, needing to meet parental expectations?” He hesitated again, so Audrey quickly said, “I’m sorry. It’s rude of me to pry into your personal life.”

  “No, no. It isn’t that. It’s just that no one has ever asked me that question. Even Louis, and he’s my best friend. Everyone just assumes that Linda and I will always be together . . . It’s what she wants, what our parents want . . .”

  “But you aren’t sure.”

  “I’ve never even kissed another girl. I used to see Arnie with a different girl every few minutes and I would wonder what it would be like to get to know someone else besides Linda. I once told her that I wanted to take a little break, and—I never told anyone else this—but she was almost suicidal. She said she didn’t want to live without me.”

  “Robert, that’s no reason to—”

  “I know, I know. But there was a lot more to it than that. You’re right—it’s that whole business of parental expectations. If we broke up, her family and mine would work overtime to make sure we got back together. I know that must make me sound weak-willed, but—”

  “Not at all. I know exactly how it is. I’ve been trying all my life to please my parents, even at the cost of who I am and what I want. They’ve never been pleased with me, of course, but I continue to try. My mother died in the Blitz, but the funny thing is, I’m still not free. I find myself doing the things that would have pleased her and earned her approval. It’s the only thing I know. If this war ever ends, I’ll probably end up marrying the second son of some earl who I don’t love and who has nothing in common with me, and we’ll carry on with our separate, empty lives.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of with Linda. We want different things in life. When no one else is around and we try to talk about important things, we have nothing in common. She loves the country-club life, fancy clothes and cars, and I want more. I don’t really want to be a lawyer but that’s what’s expected of me. I’ll be the fourth generation to join our family’s law firm.”

  “Why can’t we seem to speak up for ourselves and break free?”

  “Because the pull of family is even stronger than the force of gravity. . . . I did manage to speak up once, and it bought me a reprieve of sorts. Linda wanted to get married before I went away to war. She wanted to have a baby in case anything happened to me. She was even making wedding plans, but I panicked. I just wasn’t sure. I don’t even know who I am or what I want out of life, so I’m certainly not ready to choose a wife and settle down. To be honest, I don’t even know if I love Linda. I’ve never experienced all those feelings of euphoria and rapture that people in the movies describe when they fall in love—have you?”

  “Hardly! I rarely even like the men who are chosen for me.”

  “Exactly. Linda seems like my parents’ choice, not mine. Of course, she was furious when I wouldn’t get engaged before I left for basic training, let alone married. Especially after Louis and Jean got married. But she didn’t want to break up with me, either. She writes me long letters with news from home and tells me how much she misses me and loves me. I never know what to write back. I would like to be able to share my thoughts about the war and all of the deep spiritual issues it raises—but I’ve never been able to talk about my faith with her. To Linda, Christianity is a tradition, a comforting ritual, but for me it has become much, much more—especially as I grapple with what I’ve seen and experienced over here. My faith—” He halted abruptly, a look of embarrassment flooding his face. “I’m sorry, Audrey. This is supposed to be an evening for fun and I’ve been yapping on and on about all these personal things—”

  “Please don’t apologize. Aside from the vicar back home, you’re the only person I’ve ever talked with about things that really matter. You and I are similar in so many ways, and I think . . . I think we understand each other. This war has raised endless questions about faith.”

  “I can well imagine that you’d have questions after losing your mother. It must seem like your world is on the brink of extinction.”

  “That’s exactly how it feels. Oddly enough, the vicar seems to think that God can use the war to bring about something good. He said that most of us muddle along with our mundane lives without ever contemplating life and death or the God who created us and loves us.”

  “There are no atheists in foxholes.”

  “I think that’s true. To be honest, my religion was a lot like Linda’s before the war. I never thought much about God. I never read the Bible at all.”

  “Me, either. After I enlisted, the Army was passing out Bibles to anyone who wanted one, so I took it, even though religion has been little more than a formality for most of my life. Inside the cover was a letter from President Roosevelt. I’ll have to show it to you sometime. He recommended that everyone in the armed services read the Bible, said it has offered wisdom and strength and inspiration to people throughout the ages. I’ve been reading it ever since.”

  Audrey couldn’t reply, stopped for a moment by Robert’s words: “I’ll have to show it to you sometime.” He assumed they would see each other again. Perhaps he even hoped they would. And Audrey was very surprised to discover that she hoped so, too. She was still struggling for words when the bandleader announced they would play one final song, “We’ll Meet Again.”

  Robert stood and extended his hand. “I would love to dance this last one with you, Audrey. I apologize in advance for stepping on your toes.”

  She felt herself smiling as she stood and accepted his hand. “Believe me, I won’t feel a thing through these monstrous Army shoes.” She went into his arms as if she had been there before. Perhaps it was the deeply personal things they’d shared this evening that made Audrey feel at home with Robert. And safe. But she also felt sad. Because Robert Barrett was one of nearly two million American soldiers on her island, and when “We’ll Meet Again” ended and she and Eve climbed into the lorry to return to their base, she would probably never see him again.

  18

  ENGLAND, APRIL 1943

  “I can’t believe it!” Audrey stared at the ATS message board in amazement. “We have a two-day furlough!”

  “Where should we go?” Eve asked.

  “I don’t know . . . I don’t fancy London. Do you?”

  “Definitely not. They say the city is packed with Americans, like pilchards in a tin. Agnes got her bottom pinched a dozen times when she was there. She got so tired of hearing, ‘Hey, baby!’ that she came back to the base a day early.”

  Audrey felt a longing for home that hadn’t surfaced since she’d enlisted two and a half years ago. “What do you say we go to Wellingford Hall on our leave?” she asked as they walked back to their room. We
llingford wasn’t far. She and Eve were based near Southampton now, ferrying wounded soldiers who arrived on hospital ships. Their injuries broke her heart. She offered up prayers for Alfie with every ambulance journey she made.

  “I thought the Americans took over Wellingford,” Eve said.

  “Most of it, yes. But Robbins kept some spaces private in case Father or Alfie or I came home.”

  It was decided. They took the train to the village, and after Eve greeted some of her longtime friends and promised to return for tea, she and Audrey walked the last mile to the manor house, hauling their duffel bags. Audrey was unprepared for all of the changes to her home. The Land Army now cultivated the fields and grasslands bordering the road. They’d erected fences to pasture cows and sheep, slicing Wellingford’s elegant property into ugly farm lots. “Robbins told me the Land Girls were farming some of our property, but I never imagined they would ruin so much of it,” Audrey said. It grew worse as she passed through the stone entry gates. A vegetable patch replaced George’s stately formal gardens. Heavy vehicles left the driveway rutted and muddied. Three American jeeps were parked out front and a group of soldiers stood on the steps smoking cigarettes. My home! she wanted to cry out. What have you done to my beautiful home?

  “Let’s go around to the back door,” Eve said.

  “No.” Audrey felt unaccountably stubborn. “This is my home. Yours too, considering all the years you and your mum worked here. We’re going to use the front door.”

  “Good job standing up for yourself,” Eve said with a grin. “I hope you’re prepared to be ogled and pinched.”

  “They wouldn’t dare. And I’d better not hear any Hey, babys, either.” They marched forward. The men stopped talking and watched them approach. Audrey stared straight ahead, her chin lifted, refusing to meet their gazes.

  She was almost to the door when a soft masculine voice said, “Audrey? Is it really you?”

  She turned in surprise. “Robert! What are you doing here?”

  “I’m stationed here,” he said with a little laugh. “I’m assigned to the new airfield they’re building a few miles away. What are you doing here?”

  “I live here. That is, I do when I’m not in the Army. Wellingford Hall is my family’s home. I grew up here. Eve and I have a two-day furlough, so we decided to come home.”

  “Gosh, it’s good to see you again.” He looked as though he wanted to embrace her but they both held back. “I didn’t think we’d ever meet again. They transferred Louis and me a few days after I met you.”

  “Are you enjoying Wellingford Hall?”

  “It’s beautiful! . . . I mean, I can see that it used to be beautiful before the war.”

  “I’m appalled by all the changes, and I haven’t even been inside yet.”

  “Allow me,” he said, opening the heavy door. “And I apologize in advance for what my countrymen may have done to your home.”

  “No, don’t. England might well be lost by now if it weren’t for you Americans.”

  The Americans kept the blackout curtains closed all the time, and the foyer was very dark, as were the sitting and dining rooms on either side. For a moment, Audrey felt disoriented in the gloom. Then Robbins appeared, and he seemed cheered to see her. “Miss Audrey! Welcome home. When you called to say you were coming, we were all pleased. Very pleased. And, Eve—” Before he could say more, Eve dropped her duffel and went to him for a hug, making Audrey envious. “How are you, Eve, my girl?”

  “I’m super. I hope you don’t mind me using the front door. Audrey said I could.”

  “Nonsense.” He picked up their duffels. “I’ll carry these upstairs and we’ll get you both settled in. Mrs. Smith made up your bedroom, Miss Audrey.”

  “Thank you,” she said as they climbed the stairs. “I can’t wait to put on civilian clothes. And what about Eve? Perhaps she’d like Alfie’s room?”

  “If you don’t mind,” Eve said before Robbins could reply, “I think I’d prefer my old room on the third floor. If no one is using it, that is.”

  “Are you sure?” Audrey asked. “It isn’t necessary, you know.”

  “I’m hoping Mum left a few of her things. I couldn’t bear to look after the funeral, but now I’m hoping that she didn’t take everything with her to London.”

  “You’re welcome to it, Eve,” Robbins said. “We haven’t changed a thing in there.”

  “Good. But first I want to get out of this uniform and go for a walk in the woods like I used to do when I was a girl. Do you think it would be all right? With the Americans, I mean? They aren’t tromping through there shooting rabbits for target practice, are they?”

  “As far as I know, they’ve left the woods untouched,” Robbins replied. “We billeted the American officers in the west wing, not this side of the manor.”

  “Want to come to the woods with me, Audrey?”

  She shook her head. “I think you’d be happier alone.”

  “See you later, then.” Eve left Audrey outside the door to her room and hurried to the servants’ door to the third floor. Audrey heard her footsteps racing up the wooden stairs.

  “Is there anything else I can do for you, Miss Audrey?” Robbins asked as he carried her duffel bag inside.

  “No thank you. I’m fine.” He nodded and left the room, closing the door. Her childhood bedroom should have felt familiar to Audrey but it didn’t. The books and keepsakes on the shelves seemed to belong to a different person. She opened the doors to her wardrobe and found it filled with clothes more appropriate for her former life than for wartime. She used the washroom to freshen up from her trip, then changed from her uniform into a pair of wool slacks, a silk blouse, and a cashmere sweater, the most casual clothes she could find. She glanced out the window and saw Eve striding across the cultivated field toward the woods. Audrey closed her eyes and whispered a prayer that Eve would find the carefree, young girl she’d once been. When she opened them again, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Audrey saw a stranger. She quickly looked away, frightened by the unfamiliar image.

  She took a moment to hang up her uniform and unpack her bag, tasks she would have let the servants do in the past. When she finished, she wasn’t quite sure what to do with herself. She should have asked Robbins which rooms downstairs she was allowed to use. She’d been disoriented after arriving, and everything had happened so quickly that—

  Robert! She had walked rudely away from him without even a proper thank-you or “It was nice to see you again.” And it had been nice to see him. She’d never forgotten the wonderful evening they’d spent together at the dance. She crossed to another window and looked down to see if the jeeps were still parked outside. They were. Audrey ran a brush through her hair and hurried downstairs to find him. Robert stood at the bottom of the steps as if waiting for her.

  “Robert! Hello again. I’m sorry for dashing off so abruptly—”

  “Not at all. I can only imagine how good it must feel to be home again.”

  “It is nice, yes. Although no one else in my family is home at the moment. And everything is so . . . different.”

  “You’ve been invaded, Audrey. Thank goodness it wasn’t by the Nazis.”

  “This is the first time I’ve been home since Eve and I enlisted. It was such a nice surprise to find you here. I so enjoyed talking with you the night we met.”

  “I did, too. And now that you’re here, I hope we can talk some more. Maybe even right now, if you’re free.”

  “I would like that very much. But aren’t you supposed to be working? I’m not keeping you from anything, am I?”

  “I’m off duty today and tomorrow, as it happens. Louis and I almost went to London but decided to stay here. Now I’m glad we did.”

  “I am, too. Shall we go someplace and catch up? How about Father’s library?”

  “That’s one of the rooms that’s off-limits to us. I confess that I’ve peeked inside, though. I couldn’t resist all those books. But I didn’t touch
any of them.”

  “Come through, then. You’ll be my guest.” They scanned the shelves as they roamed the room, using the library ladder to peruse the highest shelves. They shared the same tastes in poetry and literary classics. And history.

  “I could spend years in here and still not read everything that I’d like to,” Robert said when they finally sat down in Father’s club chairs by the fireplace.

  “I’ll tell Robbins to let you borrow books whenever you’d like.”

  “Thank you. What a spectacular inheritance you have, Audrey—this house, these books and furnishings, your distinguished family. I assume all of the grand portraits in the foyer are your ancestors?”

  “Hardly! I’m a fake aristocrat, actually.” She surprised herself by admitting the truth to this virtual stranger. Yet something in Robert’s gentle manner, his honesty and attentiveness, convinced Audrey that she could trust him. “My father came from a middle-class family and made his own fortune through shrewd business ventures. He bought this estate from a down-on-his-luck aristocrat who’d gone bankrupt. All of the portraits and antiques and books came with the house. The sterling silver, too. My mother was the true blue blood. Their marriage was one of convenience. She gave Father respectability and he gave her enough wealth to keep any woman happy. I don’t suppose there are many situations like theirs in the United States.”

  “You’d be surprised. We don’t have an aristocracy, but an old family name and a good reputation are still highly valued, especially in families like mine that have been around since before the Revolution. There’s a lot of pressure on the sons—especially only sons like myself—to follow in the footsteps of their fathers and grandfathers. I’m expected to attend Yale Law School after the war and join the family practice.”