by Lynn Austin
As soon as she was able, Audrey put through a telephone call to the United States to tell Robert the wonderful news. “It’s a boy, Robert! A beautiful, healthy baby boy!”
“I’m wiping tears of joy,” he replied. It was glorious to hear his voice through the static. “And are you all right, darling Audrey? I wish I was there with you.”
“Yes, I’m fine. Our son reminds me so much of you that it’s like having a little part of you here with me. He has lovely dark hair just like yours.”
“I hoped he’d have your hair. It’s such a beautiful color.”
“I love you, Robert. I pray that all three of us will be together soon.”
“I’m praying for the same thing. I love you, darling Audrey.”
They would always be the most beautiful words Audrey ever heard in her life.
24
WELLINGFORD HALL, SEPTEMBER 1946
It had become a habit—one which Audrey thoroughly enjoyed—to spend a few minutes in the sitting room with Eve and their two sons every morning while Eve took a break from work. The babies, now three months old, were growing quickly and already were as different in looks and temperament as she and Eve were. Audrey’s son, Bobby, had Robert’s dark hair and eyes and a solemn, sensitive nature. Eve’s son, Harry, had his father’s ginger hair and blue eyes and was as cheerful as his mother always had been. Motherhood seemed to come naturally to Eve, and she was teaching Audrey how to be a good mother to this child she loved so fiercely. They were laughing together and trying to coax a smile from little Bobby when Robbins brought in the morning post. The sight of a thick packet from the United States government made Audrey’s pulse quicken. “Oh, my. They’re finally here.”
“Are those your immigration documents?” Eve asked, leaning closer to see.
“It looks like them. I guess the wait is finally over.” Audrey laid Bobby in his bassinet and carried the package to her desk to open it. Eve followed, bouncing little Harry in her arms. Audrey slit open the envelope with her paper knife, her emotions careening from joy to dread and back again like an out-of-control car. Joy that she and Robert would be together at last. Dread at the thought of leaving her home and starting a new life among strangers in a foreign land. She pulled out the letter, saw her name, Mrs. Robert Barrett, and that of her son, Robert Clarkson Barrett. She read the opening paragraph, then looked up at Eve. “We’ve been approved.”
“Does it say when you’re leaving or where you’re supposed to go?”
Audrey scanned the letter. “I’m to report to the former Army camp in Tidworth in two weeks. . . . There will be required medical examinations. . . . Our stay at Tidworth may be as long as three weeks. . . . It doesn’t give a final departure date.”
“You’d better start packing.”
Audrey’s hands with the papers fell limp. “I’m scared, Eve.”
“You made it through Army boot camp. You captained a boat through rough seas in a war zone in the dead of night. And you survived a V-1 rocket attack! You can do this, Audrey. And don’t forget—Robert is the prize at the end of your journey.”
“I wish we were doing this together.”
“You’ll be fine without me. You have a family now. Not only Robert and the baby, but his parents and all of his friends. I envy you.”
Audrey stuffed the letter back into the envelope. “You’re right. It’s silly of me to be cowardly. It’s just that I’ve never quite measured up to people’s expectations, no matter how hard I’ve tried. And I don’t want to disappoint Robert.”
“He’s the only person you need to worry about, and he’s crazy about you. Wait until he tastes your cooking and sees what a great mother you are to his son.”
“Speaking of our son . . .” Bobby hadn’t liked being plopped into his wicker bassinet and was fussing. Audrey lifted him to her shoulder, savoring the soft warmth of him, his milky scent. “I hope this journey won’t be too much of an ordeal for him. He’s so tiny.”
“Babies are pretty adaptable at this age. All he needs is milk, a cot, and clean nappies.”
Audrey carried him to her chair by the fire and faced Eve again. “I wish they could grow up as friends, like we were. Like their fathers were.” Eve looked away at the mention of Harry’s father. Audrey was immediately sorry. She hurried to change the subject. “What will you do after we’re gone? Of course you may stay and work here with Robbins and Mrs. Smith, but what about the future? You’re capable of so much more than being a servant for the rest of your life.”
“I’m not sure. I’ll figure something out.” Her tone was curt.
“I wish I could help you—”
“You already have.” Eve stood. “It’s getting late. I have work to do.”
“Eve, listen—”
“And then we’d better figure out how to fit all your clothes into your trunks and suitcases.” She left before Audrey could think what to say.
They were working upstairs in her bedroom later that afternoon, Audrey’s bed strewn with clothing, her bureau drawers and wardrobe doors flung wide, when Robbins knocked on the door. “Telegram for you, Miss Audrey.”
“Thank you, Robbins. Do you need something for the delivery boy?”
“I already tipped him.”
“Thank you.” Audrey ripped open the envelope, wondering if it contained more news about her immigration papers. “Let’s hope they haven’t botched things up somehow,” she said as she pulled out the message.
“Maybe they want you to report to Tidworth even earlier. Good thing we started packing.”
The telegram had come from the United States. It read:
THERE HAS BEEN A TRAGEDY STOP ROBERT DIED IN A CAR ACCIDENT LAST NIGHT STOP WILL TELEPHONE LATER STOP ROBERT O BARRETT SR
Audrey stared at the words in disbelief. She read them a second time as if they were in a language she hadn’t learned. “There has been a tragedy . . .”
“No . . . No . . . It can’t be true!” The room spun.
Eve grabbed Audrey before she toppled over and led her to the bed. “Audrey, what’s wrong? What happened?” Audrey pushed the telegram into Eve’s hand. “Oh, Audrey . . . no!” Eve breathed.
A sob rose from deep inside Audrey, strangling her. She struggled to speak around it. “It can’t be true. . . . I need to call him. . . . He’ll tell me . . . he’ll say there’s been a mistake!” She tried to stand, but the floor rolled like the deck of a ship. She wished she really were on board a ship and that the ocean would swallow her. “I need to call him.”
“Hang on, Audrey. Don’t try to stand. I’ll run downstairs and ask the operator to put a call through for you. I’ll be right back.”
Audrey heard Eve shouting to Robbins and Mrs. Smith as if from the end of a long, empty tunnel. Audrey didn’t move. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t feel anything except a searing pain where her heart should be. Oh, God! Please don’t let it be true! Please! Please . . . She thought of Eve’s bitter words that God didn’t answer prayer.
What time was it in America? Robert had taught her to calculate the time difference so they wouldn’t call each other too early or too late. Audrey couldn’t think. She didn’t care about the time. All she wanted was to hear Robert’s voice, reassuring her that he was fine. That there had been a mistake. Please, God . . .
Eve bounded into the bedroom again, breathless. “The operator will ring back when the call goes through.” She sat on the bed beside Audrey and gripped her trembling hands. “Do you want me to talk to Robert’s parents for you?”
“No . . . I—I’ll do it.” But how would she speak with a gaping hole in her chest? She could barely draw a full breath past her suffocating fear. It was a mistake. It had to be. She would walk to the telephone, which seemed a hundred miles away, and speak to Robert.
“Let me help you,” Eve said as Audrey rose on shaking legs. They went downstairs to the foyer, to the telephone. Audrey’s head whirled with every step she took. When they reached the bottom, Eve pushed a handkerchief into Audrey
’s hands, and she wiped tears she hadn’t realized were there.
When the telephone finally rang, Audrey flinched, startled. “Are you sure you don’t want me to talk to them?” Eve asked as she lifted the receiver. Audrey shook her head. The telegram was a mistake. In another moment, she would hear Robert’s voice. She put the receiver to her ear.
“Hello, this is Audrey—” She nearly said Clarkson.
“Yes, hello. I’m Robert’s father. . . . I’m sorry we didn’t call. . . . When we sent you the telegram, the police still weren’t sure what happened. We were waiting until we knew more details, but now . . .” His voice crackled with static and faded for a moment.
“Hello? Are you still there?” Audrey asked.
“Yes . . . Can you hear me?” He sounded as if he were speaking into a tin can.
“I can hear you. Speak louder, please.” Her heart pounded so violently she feared it would burst.
“We’re still reeling . . . Linda, Robert’s former girlfriend, came to the house and asked Robert to run an errand with her. She was driving the car, and she . . . she . . . Witnesses say she was going at a very high rate of speed. The police believe she deliberately steered into the bridge abutment, killing herself and Robert.”
Audrey gasped. The phone slipped from her grip as her knees buckled. Eve grabbed her and held her up as Robbins slid the bench beneath her. “He—he’s gone? . . . He’s really gone?” Audrey’s son began wailing in his bassinet upstairs as if mourning for his father.
Eve picked up the receiver. “Shall I finish for you?” she whispered. Audrey shook her head and reached for it again. Every breath she drew felt crushing, as if she lay buried beneath tons of rubble.
“I’m afraid it’s true,” Mr. Barrett said. “I’m so sorry. . . . We’re making funeral arrangements . . .” His voice broke. Audrey waited, listening as he struggled for composure. “My wife will write to you. . . . I need to go.”
The phone went dead. Robert was dead.
Dead.
And Audrey wanted to die with him. “It was all my fault,” she mumbled as Robbins replaced the receiver. Eve crouched in front of her.
“How could Robert’s death thousands of miles away possibly be your fault?”
“Linda caused the car accident. She killed him and herself.”
“No . . .”
“If I hadn’t told Robert I loved him, if we hadn’t married, he would have gone home after the war and married Linda. He would still be alive.”
“Are you saying he’d be better off married to a woman capable of killing him?”
“I don’t know what I’m saying. But Robert would still be alive!”
“But you wouldn’t have a son. Robert’s son.”
Her son. He was crying. The sound of his wails caused a dam inside Audrey to burst. Grief poured out in a scream that rocked her body with its force. She screamed and screamed, unable to stop. If Eve hadn’t held her tightly, Audrey would have shaken into pieces.
Time stood still. Audrey had no idea how long she screamed, how much time passed before the village doctor arrived and administered a sedative.
She had no memory of climbing the stairs to her room, but she must have because she awoke in her bed, her throat raw, her eyes swollen and burning.
Eve was sitting beside her. She was weeping, too. “I don’t know what to say, Audrey. I’m so sorry.”
“Where’s Bobby? Is he all right?”
“He’s downstairs with Mrs. Smith. Shall I bring him up to you?”
“No . . . I can’t . . .” Her tears started falling again. She wanted to go back in time and wake up on a different day, a day when Robert was still alive, when she could call him and hear his voice. Hear him say, “I love you.” But she would never hear those words again. Audrey closed her eyes and welcomed the darkness, praying she would never have to open them again.
She didn’t know how many days of darkness followed. Her grief was a mountain she had no idea how to climb. She couldn’t get out of bed. She forgot she had a son. Eve and the other servants ran the household and cared for Bobby while Audrey drifted in a stupor. Eve talked to her whenever she brought meals to her room, meals Audrey couldn’t eat, but none of her words made sense. Eve tried to coax Audrey from her bed, but all she wanted to do was swallow another pill and sleep forever and never wake up.
“The pills are gone,” Eve told her one morning. She flung open the curtains, flooding the room with light, making Audrey’s swollen eyes ache. “You need to get up so we can change your bed linen. I’m drawing you a bath. Come on, I’ll help you.” Audrey allowed Eve to undress her and lead her to the tub, just as Eve’s mum had done for Mother. The hot water made her skin tingle, and she longed to sink beneath the surface and let it swallow her. “You have to eat something, Audrey. You’re skin and bones.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Lean back and I’ll wash your hair.” Audrey obeyed, letting the water flow over her head. “Remember during the war when we were only allowed to bathe in five inches of water?” Eve asked.
Audrey didn’t reply. The long, horrible war was over and Robert had survived. Yet now he was dead.
“I know it must seem impossible, Audrey, but you need to start living again. You have a child to think about.”
“Robert was my life. He was all I had, all I wanted. I can’t go on without him.”
“I know. But you have to. Robert wouldn’t want you to stop living.”
“I didn’t think I would survive the pit of grief when Alfie died, but Robert was here with me. He kept me from drowning.”
“And now I’m here.”
Audrey shook her head. She didn’t want Eve. “You can’t understand what it’s like. I have no one left!”
Eve rose from where she knelt beside the tub. “Did you forget who you’re talking to? Who do I have, Audrey? I’ve lost everyone, too. But we’ll manage, somehow. Both of us. We have no other choice.” When Audrey didn’t reply, Eve laid the towel on the edge of the tub. “I’ll let you finish by yourself.”
Audrey wanted Eve to stay, yet she wanted to be alone. Eve turned to her again when she reached the door. “Get back in the fight, Audrey. If not for yourself, then for Bobby’s sake. Do you want the servants to raise Robert’s son the way you and Alfie were raised?”
Audrey couldn’t reply, couldn’t make any decisions for a life that no longer included Robert. When she finished her bath, she dressed for the first time in nearly two weeks. She found Eve downstairs in the sitting room, feeding Bobby a bottle. The servants had switched him to formula while Audrey mourned, her breast milk dwindling to nothing when she refused to eat. “Here, you finish feeding him,” Eve said, handing her the baby. For a moment, Bobby felt awkward in Audrey’s arms, a warm, wiggling, unfamiliar weight. Then her son looked up at her with his olive-dark eyes. His father’s eyes.
Audrey hugged him close to her chest. She wasn’t alone. She held a little piece of Robert in her arms. A precious piece. She would hear her husband say, “I love you” every time she looked at their son. She understood, now, what Eve meant when she’d urged her to get back in the fight for her son’s sake. Audrey focused on his sweet face as he finished his bottle and slept in her arms.
“A letter came for you from the Barretts,” Eve said when she returned to the room to tend the fireplace. “It’s on your desk.”
“You read it, please. Tell me what it says.”
Eve slit open the envelope, removed the letter. The room was quiet except for Bobby’s soft breaths as Eve scanned it. “They give details about the funeral service. . . . They’re trying to cope with their shock and grief. . . . They end by saying they hope you and the baby will still come as planned. It says, ‘You’re our son’s wife. Bobby is our grandchild. You’ll always have a home with us. We want to take care of both of you.’”
Audrey’s heart squeezed in pain. This wasn’t the future she and Robert had planned. Her home was supposed to be with him, not his parents.
“You still have time to report to the Army camp in Tidworth, Audrey. I think you should accept their invitation.”
“I’m not going to America,” she said, shaking her head. “I can’t live with strangers. Besides, Robert would still be alive if it weren’t for me.”
“That’s not true. And if you read their letter, you’ll see they don’t feel that way at all.”
“I can’t leave home and start all over. Not without Robert. It’s impossible.”
“You did a lot of things during the war that seemed impossible. This is no different.”
Audrey struggled to stay afloat as new wells of grief opened beneath her. “I was raised in a different world than Robert. Did I ever tell you that the year I made my debut into London society, I had an audience with the queen?”
“What good did that ever do you?”
“I’m trying to explain that I know how to function here, in my world.”
“And you learned how to function in the Army, didn’t you? That life was nothing at all like what you were used to. If you learned to adapt once, you can do it again.”
“I can’t remake myself all alone. I’m too scared, Eve. I had you to help me during the war.”
“Listen, I’ll call Tidworth for you. Maybe they’ll let you postpone your trip to a later date so you’ll have more time to grieve.”
“They won’t let me come at all if they learn that Robert is gone.”
“Then why not go while you have the chance? If you don’t like America, you can always come home. You’re strong enough to do this, Audrey. Think of all the hard things you faced during the war. You’re not a coward.”
Audrey shook her head. She stood and carried the baby to the bassinet, too weak and shaky to hold him. He stirred and opened his eyes when she laid him down, so she rocked the basket until he fell back asleep. “I believed I could learn to live in Robert’s world as long as he was beside me,” she said to Eve. “But I can’t do it alone. I would be as lost and helpless as I was in the woods that day we first met. You laughed at the idea of me running away and told me to go home to Wellingford Hall because you recognized how hopelessly out of place I was. This is where I belong, Eve. At Wellingford. I would be just as out of place in America as I was in the woods. Besides, I have my son to think about.”