If I Were You

by Lynn Austin

  “That’s what struck me the last time we spoke—how alike we are. I don’t know if you feel trapped, but I sometimes do. Yet when one spends their entire lifetime trying to please one’s parents, disappointing them is out of the question.”

  “I understand, believe me. But just for a moment, let’s try to imagine what we would do if we truly were free from all of those expectations. You go first.”

  “I don’t know! . . . I haven’t dared to imagine . . .”

  “Okay, it wasn’t fair to spring the question on you. I’ll go first because I’ve been thinking about it ever since I started basic training. Joining the Army turned my life upside down, ripping away all my usual props. It forced me to rethink everything I once knew—”

  “Yes! That’s exactly how I’ve felt since enlisting. Army life is so opposite the life I’m accustomed to that my identity felt pared down to the bone. I still don’t know who I am. Just now, I felt like an intruder in my old bedroom. The girl who once lived here wasn’t me. I even hung up my own uniform—something I would have left to the servants in the past.”

  “So why not try to imagine a new future? During all those long hours coming over here on the troopship, I watched the other guys playing poker or sleeping and I tried to imagine what I would do if I didn’t have to go back to the life mapped out for me—marrying Linda, joining the law firm, adding my name to the distinguished line of Barretts.”

  The idea made Audrey feel even more lost and alone. Who was she? What did she really want her life to be like? The questions frightened her, just as seeing the stranger in the mirror had. Yet Robert’s ponderings intrigued her. “What did you decide you would do?” she asked.

  “If I could have my wish? . . . When I first started asking that question, I felt a little like the rich young man in the Bible who asks Jesus what he should do. Are you familiar with that story?”

  “Yes. Rev. Hamlin preached a sermon on it. Jesus told him to sell all that he had—”

  “And give the money to the poor. Right. It struck me that Jesus didn’t say to give everything away. He said to sell it. That involves taking an inventory of what he had, analyzing its value, getting the most out of what it was worth so then he could offer the profits to the poor. The lesson for me was to take a close look at how God created me and all the assets I’ve been given—and then generously invest it all for His Kingdom. That’s the opposite of following everyone else’s expectations for me, living the life that’s been decided for me. Instead, I should live the one I was created for.”

  His words intrigued her, excited her. Yet frightened her. “But how do we know what we were created for?”

  “That’s the key question.” He sat forward on his chair as he faced her, his dark eyes intense. “I still don’t know in my particular case, but I think the broader answer can be found in the second half of Jesus’ command—give to the poor. In other words, I’m to give all that I am to help others so that God is glorified. Rich people usually don’t sell everything they have and give away the proceeds. There would have been a lot of questions and a lot of amazed people if that rich young man had actually done it. People would want to know what motivated such a sacrifice—and he could point to Christ and say that his love for his Savior had changed him.”

  “That’s profound, Robert. You could be a minister.”

  “I don’t think so,” he laughed. “I don’t have answers for why good people suffer or why there’s evil in the world and men like Hitler and Mussolini.”

  “When I lived at home before joining the Army, I felt compelled to do something to help people. A lot of my motivation sprang from guilt. My family had so much, yet they ignored the needs of the villagers. And I also wanted to show God my gratitude for bringing my brother safely home after Dunkirk. The vicar said something similar to what you’re saying. That the work of the church is serving Christ in any way we can with what we’ve been given.”

  “I think he’s right. I admit, though, that I’m still a lot like that rich young man. I’m still saying no and backing away from what Jesus asks because I fear the unknown. There’s safety in my familiar life and in my family’s expectations. I know I can probably please them and still have a great life.”

  “And that’s why I’ve never dared to think of another future. It’s why I came home this weekend. There’s safety in what’s familiar. Thank you for challenging me.”

  “No, I’m the one who’s grateful. I’ve been holding all these thoughts inside with no one to share them with.” He moved to the edge of his chair and reached for her hand. The warmth of it startled her, then quickly spread through her with a sensation that was much like sinking into a steaming bath. “Please tell me if I’m out of line, Audrey . . . but if I may presume . . . could we talk some more while you’re home?”

  Audrey squeezed his hand. She felt none of her usual cold reserve with Robert, and that surprised her. “I would love that. I know the tide of this war is changing and I finally dare to hope it will end. So I do need to think about how I want to live afterwards.”

  “And maybe . . . ,” he said, still holding her hand, “maybe we could write to each other after your leave ends and keep this conversation going.”

  Audrey felt a moment’s hesitation, remembering Robert’s girlfriend, Linda. But Robert wasn’t asking for love letters.

  “I would like that very much,” she said. “Very much.”

  Eve found the glade in the woods where she’d first met Audrey and the little island in the stream where they’d had their picnic. They were unchanged, just as she’d hoped, offering comfort in a world that was changing much too quickly. Today the woods were bursting with life, the leaves the deep-emerald color that was her favorite. Ferns and wildflowers had pushed their heads through the ugly brown leaf mulch, declaring that the season of death was over, new life had come. If only the same could be true of the rest of the world, and the season of death and loss were nearing an end. She was tired of death, tired of living nearly every moment of every day with the awareness of war, weary of seeing bloodied reminders of it everywhere she looked.

  She leaped from stone to stone to cross the swollen creek and sat down on a rock on the island thinking, This is where I belong. If she closed her eyes, she could be a girl again, believing that the world might cycle through its appointed seasons without ever really changing. She could have the faith of an innocent lamb from her Sunday school lessons, trusting the Good Shepherd to keep her safe and secure. Her eyes shot open as she remembered calling on God in the bomb shelter in the East End—and then emerging into a scene from hell when the all clear sounded. She remembered praying that Mum would be safe as she’d raced to the town house on a yellow bicycle, only to find her prayers in ashes. Eve struggled to breathe as the woods seemed to close in on her. She quickly looked up to see blue sky through the bright-green branches. Her panic slowly subsided.

  She breathed deeply again, listening for the peaceful rustling and buzzing of the forest. But even that stillness had been altered by the war. Airplanes droned overhead. Army vehicles shifted gears as they bumped and rattled down the lane to Wellingford Hall. A tractor rumbled to life in the field she’d just crossed, a field that had once been a pleasant meadow. Tears brimmed in Eve’s eyes as she picked up a stick and used it to scrape mud off the soles of her shoes, shoes worn by a girl who had roamed these woods barefoot. Maybe it had been a mistake to come to Wellingford Hall. It was Audrey’s home, not hers. Eve no longer had a home, not even in these woods.

  She brushed aside her tears and stood, refusing to give in to sorrow. She followed the trail through the woods to the village, emerging in the cemetery behind the church. After climbing over the fieldstone wall, she wove among the markers and tombstones, stopping at the plots where Mum and Granny Maud lay buried, side by side. Eve would keep fighting this war for their sakes, for the hopes and dreams they’d once had for her future. They’d sacrificed so much for her, hoping she would have a better life than theirs. She woul
dn’t disappoint them.

  When she’d said her goodbyes at their graves, Eve went out through the church gate and walked up the street toward the village green. She spotted a group of American soldiers coming her way, and her instinct was to turn down another street to escape their leers and comments. But then she recognized the tall one in the middle of the group, the one who laughed the loudest. The one with ginger hair. She halted, waiting to see if Louis would recognize her in civilian clothes. As she’d expected, all of the soldiers ogled her as they drew near, appraising her from head to toe. One of them gave a wolf whistle. Then Louis grinned.

  “Eve? What in the world are you doing here?”

  “Hello, Louis. It’s good to see you again.” It was the truth. She had enjoyed every minute of their time together and often wished she’d run into him again. The other soldiers teased Louis, asking to be introduced to this “pretty little dish” and reminding him that he was a married man.

  “Go ahead without me,” he said, waving them away. “Eve doesn’t want to meet any of you loudmouthed Americans, right, Eve?”

  “Right,” she said with a smile. Louis shooed them off, and he and Eve sat on the low stone wall in front of the manse. “Fancy seeing you here,” she said with a grin. “I was just with Audrey at the manor house and we ran into Robert, but he didn’t tell us that you were here, too.”

  “You mean, Wellington or Welling-something Hall?”

  “Wellingford Hall. Yes.”

  “Bob and I got transferred there right after I met you at the dance. We’ve been there ever since, helping to get the new airfield operational. But how did you end up here?”

  “I grew up in this village. Wellingford Hall is Audrey’s home. We had a two-day furlough and decided to come home.”

  “I’ve been here for about two months now, and I have to say that aside from our work at the airfield, it’s been pretty boring. It’s a little too quiet for me at that grand old house.”

  “Then you probably haven’t found it much livelier here in town. Where are you headed?”

  “Just to the pub for a game of darts—I’m the reigning champion, by the way—and to drink warm beer. Haven’t you British discovered refrigeration yet?”

  “We like it warm.”

  He grimaced and shivered dramatically. “Hey, come to the pub with me, Eve. You’re much easier to look at than those other goofs I’m with.”

  Eve took a moment to consider his offer. Louis made her laugh. And laughing helped her forget. She wasn’t likely to have many laughs with Audrey at the manor house. The village was where she really belonged, not Wellingford.

  “If I come for a drink, do you promise to protect me from those ‘goofs,’ as you call them? I could have gone to London on my furlough if I wanted to be leered at and groped.”

  “I’ll be your guardian and protector.” He held out his arm and she took it, smiling up at him as they walked to the pub. It was stuffed with Americans, laughing loudly, drinking pints, playing a rowdy game of darts. Louis was chivalrous as he fended off his fellow Americans. Eve greeted the pub owner, an old friend who gave them free pints, before taking Louis to a small corner table to talk. Two elderly farmers who had known Eve’s daddy stopped by the table to greet her on their way out, and she made a mental list of all the other friends and neighbors she wanted to see during her visit, villagers she’d known forever and who’d been kind to her when Mum died. She had been too numb with grief at the time to thank them.

  “Hey, your fiancé doesn’t have spies here in town, does he?” Louis asked after the farmers left. He leaned across the table to speak softly. “He’s not going to send his henchmen after me for sitting with you, is he?”

  “No, you don’t need to worry about Alfie.” Her eyes suddenly filled with tears. She couldn’t explain why.

  “Oh no. Did I say the wrong thing, Eve?”

  “Not at all. It’s just that . . . Alfie and I aren’t engaged. And the truth, which I’m slowly learning to accept, is that we probably never will be.” She took a sip of her drink, desperate to think of a way to change the subject. Nothing came to her. She remembered how uneasy she felt walking through the front door of Wellingford Hall earlier, yet how good and natural it was to greet Robbins with a hug. Audrey had offered her Alfie’s room but Eve couldn’t sleep there. Her room on the third floor was home. Her friends in the village, not Alfie’s friends, were the people she belonged with.

  “Did you break up with him or something?” Louis asked. His concern seemed genuine as he studied her with his clear blue eyes. “I’m willing to listen if you want to tell me.” With no one else to confide in, she decided to trust Louis.

  “I used to work at Wellingford Hall,” she said with a sigh. “As a servant. My friend Audrey grew up there. It’s her family’s home. Her daddy has more money than King George. We’re good friends, though, in spite of our different backgrounds.”

  “I can tell that you are. Like Robert and me. And his family has way more money than mine does.”

  “Then you’ll understand if I tell you that my boyfriend, Alfie, is Audrey’s brother.”

  Louis gave a low whistle as he leaned back in his chair. “But that shouldn’t be a problem if you love each other, should it?”

  “Before he shipped overseas, Alfie told me he loved me. But he won’t marry me as long as his father is alive because he would lose his inheritance.”

  “He sounds like a jerk.”

  “That’s not completely fair. Alfie wouldn’t know how to live without his money. He and the rest of the gentry grew up in huge manor houses with dozens of servants. He would be at a loss without them. There’s the idea that blue bloods are somehow above the masses of people like me. Before the war, King Edward had to choose between marrying an American divorcée or reigning as the king of England. He chose love. But the aristocracy has shunned him for it ever since. Alfie would face the same rejection if he married me. I was his family’s scullery maid, for goodness’ sakes.”

  “And yet you stay faithful to him?”

  Eve nodded. “I love him. And I guess, deep down, I still hope that he’ll change. In many ways, the war is slowly destroying his way of life. He and Audrey are forced to live and work alongside people they once considered beneath them. They’ve learned to make do without the finer things they once took for granted, like warm baths and five-course meals. I feel sorry for them. Their family is so cold and unfeeling that neither one of them really knows what love is. Alfie can’t imagine that love would be enough to sustain him if he gave up his wealth. Money is all he has to give his life meaning.”

  “Audrey is different?”

  “I think so. The hardships of war have knocked some sense into her. She’ll be okay. Although I would hate to see her return to that cold, drab way of life when the war ends. I hope she finds true love.” She paused to take another sip of her drink, then asked, “What about you, Louis? What will your life be like after the war?”

  “I’ll join my father’s insurance business. Support my wife and daughter . . . But I want to ask you one more question, Eve. If you’re right and things don’t work out with Alfie, what will you do when the war is over?”

  “I have no idea. Live day to day, I suppose. Find a job, share a few laughs with friends. Wait to fall in love again.” She shrugged as if hoping she could shrug away the pain. “I honestly don’t know. After four years of war I feel like the shell-shocked people you see wandering through bombed-out ruins in a daze. All the familiar landmarks are gone, and they have no idea where they’ll go or how they’ll live, so they just stand around waiting for someone to come along and tell them what to do.”

  “You’re so young. You’ll have plenty of time to figure it out.”

  She tried to smile. “You’re right. I will.” Eve felt drawn to this man, comfortable with him. Too comfortable. She needed to change the subject. “Tell me about your wife.”

  Louis took another slug, grimacing at the taste or maybe the temperature
. Eve recognized the move as something Alfie did to stall for time. She waited for Louis to swallow, wanting to hear all about the woman who’d captured the love of such a warm, sensitive man as Louis.

  “Jean and I were pretty young when we started dating. Only sixteen. We went steady all through high school. Then I went off to college to study business and Linda took a job in her uncle’s department store. Her father didn’t want her to go to college, saying it was a waste of money since all she really wanted to be was a wife and mother.”

  “And is that what she wanted?”

  “I guess.” He shrugged as if he’d never considered the question before. “After Pearl Harbor, we knew I’d have to go off to war, and we were both a little scared of what the future might bring. Jean had a cousin who’d died on board the USS Arizona, so that hit pretty close to home. In those last weeks before I had to leave, Jean and I . . . well . . . we went a little bit too far, if you know what I mean.”

  Eve looked away, remembering Alfie’s pleas. She knew.

  “Just our luck, Jean got pregnant,” Louis continued, idly twisting his wedding ring. “She wrote and told me about it while I was in basic training. We got married when I came home on leave. After that, the Army shipped me all around for more training, so we’ve never lived as a married couple in our own place. It seems funny to think that she’s my wife. Jean and the baby live with her parents. Karen was born while I was stationed in California, but I got to see her once before I shipped over here. The first time I held her, it scared me to death to think I was responsible for such a tiny, helpless human being. I was a carefree college student and a jock one day, a husband and a father the next. And now a soldier. Like it or not, I’ll have to settle down and be responsible when I get home. One night of youthful passion and now all my choices have been made for me.”

  “Do you love her?”

  He gave a little laugh. “I loved her a little too much, wouldn’t you say?” Eve wanted to shake her head and say that passion and love weren’t the same. She knew from experience with Alfie. She also knew how hard it was to deny passion when you loved someone. Eve didn’t regret her choices, but Louis obviously did.