by Lynn Austin
“At least go and meet Robert’s parents. Mourn with them at his grave. Then you can decide what to do.”
“My mind is made up. My home is here at Wellingford. It’s my son’s home, too. Robert and I fell in love here. All my memories of him are here, not across the ocean. I’m going to raise Bobby here.”
“Audrey, you need to think about this—”
“I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” She crossed to the desk and scooped up the packet of immigration papers, then tossed them into the rubbish bin. “There! It’s done!”
“You’re a fool, Audrey. Don’t throw away this chance.”
“I’ll write and tell the Barretts I’m not coming.” She opened the drawer with her stationery. “My father will be home next week. I’ll stay here and help him run Wellingford Hall. It’s a role I know well. Bobby can grow up here like Alfie and I did.”
“Please take more time to think about this. What if you change your mind?”
“I won’t. This is who I was before the war. Before Robert. It’s who I am without him.”
Eve pulled the thick packet of papers from the US government from the rubbish bin where Audrey had thrown them. Audrey had gone to her bedroom after writing to the Barretts to say she wasn’t coming. Her sealed letter lay on the desk, ready to post. Eve peeked at the immigration documents. Audrey was a fool to turn down this opportunity. If Eve had a chance to begin a new life in America, she wouldn’t hesitate to go. She sighed and dropped the packet into the bin again and returned to her dusting.
Eve had no idea what the next step in her life would be. With no education and a fatherless baby to support, her future was a bleak dead end, just as her mum’s had been years ago. She ran the feather duster over the mantel, then spread a mat in front of the hearth and knelt to clean the fireplace.
Oh, Audrey. If I were you . . .
She shoveled ashes into the bucket. If she were Audrey, she wouldn’t be on her knees with sooty hands. She would be on her way to Tidworth, to America, far away from Wellingford Hall and England and the reminders of who she really was—a woman with a child and no future. If only the documents were hers.
Eve swept the hearth and laid new wood in the grate. Harry would need to be fed soon. She would empty the rubbish, gather her bucket, shovel, and mat, change out of her sooty apron, and feed him. She pulled the packet from the bin to add to her ash bucket—then stopped.
What if she went to America in Audrey’s place?
Absurd.
Yet the idea tugged at her like a dog with a bone and wouldn’t let go. Why not take Audrey’s place and start all over in America? Eve sat on the arm of the chair to think it through.
She and Audrey were the same height and weight, the same age. Robert’s parents had never met their daughter-in-law. Could they tell from a black-and-white photograph that Eve’s hair was a different color? She could easily mimic Audrey’s aristocratic manners and speech. She’d lived with her long enough to know everything about her. Their sons, Harry and Bobby, were the same age.
Eve brushed her sooty fingerprints off the packet. Could she get away with it? The more she pondered the idea, the less absurd it seemed. She had masqueraded as one of the gentry on her date at the Savoy with Alfie and had pulled it off.
The documents felt heavy in her hands. It wasn’t as if she would be stealing them. Audrey had thrown them away. And while it was true that Eve would be deceiving Robert’s parents, she would only need to pretend she was Audrey until she got a new start in America. Once she was on her feet, Eve could make her own way. Who would ever know the difference?
Louis would. If he came to the Barretts’ home to visit Audrey and found Eve instead—but no. Louis couldn’t give away Eve’s secret without destroying his marriage.
Eve took the letter Audrey had written to the Barretts and slipped it in with the other documents. She tucked the packet beneath her arm and gathered up her cleaning supplies. Harry was fussing, so she hurried down the servants’ stairs to the basement. She put the bucket in the scullery, washed her hands, untied her apron, then sat on a stool to nurse him, the packet on her lap beneath his diapered bottom.
Eve would need to read through the materials carefully to make sure she had everything she needed to take Audrey’s place. But what a perfect opportunity this would be for her son. How she longed to find a better life for him. If she had to start all over again, why not do it in America? There was nothing for her here, no loved ones to leave behind. Audrey had decided to live the rest of her life at Wellingford Hall as the lady of the manor. The last thing Eve wanted was to be stuck here as her servant. This was no place for her son to grow up.
Harry finished nursing and looked up at her. She would do it. She would go to Tidworth Army Camp as Audrey Barrett. If they believed her, she would sail to America with the other war brides. Eve knew where Audrey kept her identification papers and Bobby’s birth certificate. It would be easy to add them to the packet with the other documents. She lifted Harry to her shoulder to burp him and pulled the cover letter from the packet. They had two days to pack their things and report to the camp. Harry deserved a better life. He deserved to grow up in the sunshine, far away from Wellingford’s scullery.
“Harry and I are leaving on the train Friday morning,” she told Audrey when she brought up her supper tray that evening. “It’s time for us to move out and be on our own.”
“You’re leaving? Why?”
Eve thought of all the answers she could give. How Audrey no longer talked of them being sisters or of them being together no matter what. How Eve was Audrey’s servant, a life she didn’t want. How neither of them respected the decisions the other one had made. Instead Eve shrugged and said, “Because it’s time, Audrey. We both know it.”
“Where will you go? What will you do?”
“I’m pursuing a few possibilities. Harry and I will make our way somehow. I don’t want to be stuck here in the past. Mum worked hard so I wouldn’t have to be a servant all my life, and I’m not going to let her down. I want a better life for Harry.”
“Do you have a forwarding address? How will I reach you?”
“I’ll write once we’re settled. Listen, I’ll always be grateful to you for giving Harry and me a place to stay. Thank you for that.”
“I . . . I don’t know what to say.”
“Neither do I.”
Eve knew she’d made the right decision when Audrey didn’t try to talk her out of it or beg her to stay. But the pain that knowledge caused was like a knife in her heart. They were both dry-eyed as they hugged goodbye at the train station on Friday. They had already shed enough tears for a lifetime.
25
Eve crossed her arms over her chest as she stood with forty other naked, shivering war brides at Tidworth Army Camp, waiting to be examined for venereal diseases and lice. She tried to put on a brave face, telling herself she’d endured worse, but the sound of the other women’s embarrassed weeping unnerved her. Audrey certainly would have wept, too. She never would have survived the humiliation. The physical examinations were endless and intrusive—and horribly thorough. The indignity would have crushed Audrey.
“Mrs. Robert Barrett?” It took Eve a moment to realize that the nurse was calling her.
“Sorry,” she said as she hurried forward. “I was daydreaming.” She needed to pay better attention or they’d flag her for a more thorough hearing test. Eve was still unused to answering to “Audrey” or to calling her son Robbie. She hadn’t wanted to call him Bobby—that was what Audrey called her son. Robbie would do.
A long hour later, after being poked and prodded in ways she hoped never to endure again, Eve returned to the dressing room. “That was dreadful! Dreadful!” one of the other brides whimpered. “I can’t believe they’d treat us this way!” The others sniffled as they nodded in agreement.
“At least it’s over and we’re one step closer to getting out of this place,” Eve said, trying to cheer them. “Keep thinking of
your husband. It will all be worthwhile when you’re in his arms again, being smothered by his kisses.”
Eve learned on her first day in camp that she’d made a serious mistake in her haste to adopt Audrey’s identity. The other brides all kept photographs of their husbands near their bunks and bragged about the handsome American soldiers they’d married. Eve stood out as the exception. The only photograph she had was of Alfie, and he wore a British Army uniform, not an American one. Eve had tried to remedy her error by rifling frantically through her bags, agonizing in front of the other women over misplacing the precious photograph. They eyed her with suspicion. They might also think it odd that she didn’t spend hours each evening writing letters to her husband. Eve hadn’t even thought to bring stationery and envelopes and had to borrow some from the Red Cross workers. She used it to write to the Barretts, telling them she would soon be on her way.
Eve’s regimented life at Tidworth reminded her of the ATS training camp with its spartan bunks, tasteless food, and giggling, squabbling women. When they weren’t enduring physical exams, the brides attended classes to prepare them for their new life in America. The lessons were always the same: be adjustable and ready for change. The prospect would have terrified the real Audrey.
As the days passed, Eve did her best not to stand out. She didn’t socialize with the other women, including her roommates, adopting Audrey’s shy personality—not to mimic her, but so she wouldn’t say the wrong thing and be discovered as an impostor. Eve had no idea what would happen if the authorities found out. Would they arrest her? And what would happen to Harry? As her time at Tidworth dragged on with no end in sight, Eve sometimes wondered if she’d made a mistake. She considered walking away from the camp, but she had no place to go and no one to turn to. In the end she stayed, fearing the moment when she would be found out.
But she wasn’t found out. Eve passed all the tests, endured the indignities, and the day finally came when her embarkation orders arrived. She and Harry would travel to Southampton to board a ship to America. The ocean voyage would take nine days. Eve stood in line at the telegraph office with the other excited brides who were sending telegrams to their husbands. Eve sent hers to the Barretts, letting them know when her ship would dock in New York City.
The enormous ocean liner loomed above the Southampton wharf, dwarfing Eve and the other brides. It seemed ludicrous that a ship so immense could stay afloat. Smoke billowed from its twin stacks as if the vessel were impatient to set sail. At last it was Eve’s turn to board. She felt a moment of heart-pounding panic and regret as she carried Harry up the gangplank. She was leaving her homeland behind. Forever. She had fought so hard to save her country from the Nazis, enduring endless days and long years driving an ambulance, rescuing broken, bleeding survivors. She had lost her mum and Alfie and her friend Iris in the fight, and it suddenly seemed wrong to turn her back on her nation as it struggled to rebuild. Yet Eve continued forward, even as her eyes burned with tears. She had no other place to go.
The crew guided her to the tiny cabin she would share with another bride from Tidworth. Pamela and her one-year-old daughter were heading to an American state called Montana. “Aren’t you coming up on deck to say farewell to England?” Pamela asked when the time came. Eve shook her head. Pamela’s parents had come to send her off, but no one stood onshore to wave goodbye to Eve. She waited alone in the cabin with Harry asleep in her arms, the ship’s boilers rumbling beneath her feet.
Eve was alone. And yet . . . a smile spread across her face when she realized that she was free. Free from the stigma of her past as a servant. Her lack of education, her affair with a married man, her son’s illegitimate birth were all forgotten. She was Audrey Clarkson Barrett, wife of the late Robert Barrett. Her son could grow up feeling proud of the father he would never meet, just as Eve had. The ship’s horn sounded a long, low note. Then another. She and Harry would sail toward a new beginning, a promising future.
The ocean voyage proved calm and uneventful—no violent storms, no bouts of seasickness, no delays. Eve kept to herself and didn’t mingle with the other brides, worried she would make a mistake and give herself away. The others chatted about their new lives in America, wondering what it would be like, anxious about meeting their in-laws, nervous about seeing their husbands again after so many months apart. Eve shared their fears but for entirely different reasons. Surely Robert’s parents had seen a photograph of Audrey. Would they know she was a fraud the moment they saw her? Her biggest fear was for Harry—what would happen to him if she was discovered and arrested?
Eve was so nervous as the ship sailed into New York Harbor that she had to stay belowdecks, her stomach turning itself inside out with vomiting. Harry sensed her fear and became colicky, refusing to nurse. It seemed to take hours for the regular passengers to disembark. The brides who had families meeting them would be next. The Barretts had sent a telegram saying they would be waiting for her. When the time came, she rinsed her mouth and brushed her hair and pulled her hat low to help hide her face. She looked at her reflection in the mirror and saw a pale, frightened woman she didn’t recognize. She pinched her cheeks to try to restore some color. It didn’t help.
Harry squirmed in her arms, fussing, as Eve waited on deck for Audrey’s name to be called. She wore her very best suit and hat, but they weren’t the fine quality of Audrey’s clothing. Was that another mistake people would spot? Eve wished she had thought to polish her scuffed shoes before leaving Wellingford.
“Mrs. Robert Barrett . . . Robert Clarkson Barrett . . .”
Eve’s chest ached from her wildly pounding heart. She felt so weak and dizzy after being sick that she wasn’t sure she could make it down the gangplank. A well-dressed couple with Robert’s dark hair waited on the dock. This was the final test. If they had Audrey’s picture, they would know at once that Eve was an impostor. Her eyes filled with tears as she approached. But then the couple hurried toward her. Mrs. Barrett had tears in her eyes, as well.
“Audrey? . . . Is it really you?” she asked. Eve could only nod. She feared she would be sick again as the Barretts studied her for a long moment. The pier seemed to sway, her legs unaccustomed to dry land.
Then Mr. Barrett gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Welcome, my dear. Robert told us you were a tiny little thing, and you surely are.”
Mrs. Barrett hesitated as if still unsure. Eve shifted Harry to her other hip as he continued to fuss, his cries growing louder. At last, Mrs. Barrett stepped forward. “Will you come to Nana, darling?” she asked, reaching for him. Miraculously, Harry stopped fussing and went into her welcoming arms. “Oh, my darling boy! What a long ordeal you’ve had!” She kissed his forehead, hugged him, and kissed him again. Harry smiled his charming grin.
“Come, let’s get both of you home where you belong,” Mr. Barrett said.
Home. The floodgates opened for Eve at the mention of what she longed for the most. She couldn’t hold back her tears. Mr. Barrett smiled as he pulled a handkerchief from his breast pocket and handed it to her. “Thank you for coming, Audrey. It means so much to have you and Robert’s son with us.”
For Audrey, the days felt as fragile as dry leaves. At times, caring for her son was life-giving, and she bundled him up for walks around Wellingford’s spacious grounds. Other days, the slightest brush of a memory caused her composure to crumble into dust, and the hired nurse would take over Bobby’s care. Today was one of those days. Audrey sat alone at her desk, rereading Robert’s letters, imagining that he was alive and that she would go to him soon. Yet she found comfort here in Wellingford Hall. It was where she and Robert fell in love. Where they first kissed. She could close her eyes and cling to his memory.
Every once in a while, the dry leaves of her life would stir up memories of the war years, and as she relived those experiences, it seemed as though she’d merely read a book about a woman who once drove an ambulance into scenes of unimaginable horror. Audrey was no longer that person. She tried to banis
h those memories each time they reappeared and struggled to figure out who she was now. Those memories also featured Eve and raised her lingering anger over Eve’s desertion. Yet she was glad that Eve was gone. She would accuse Audrey of going through the motions of living without really living at all. And she would be right.
A knock on the door startled Audrey from her reverie. “Rev. Hamlin is here to see you,” Robbins said. The fragile leaves stirred, the edges crumbled. The vicar had taught Audrey how to pray during the war, how to find strength in God. He had officiated at her wedding. A lifetime ago.
“Please tell him to come back another day.”
Robbins didn’t move. “He thought you might say that. He said to tell you he isn’t leaving until he has a chance to speak with you.”
“Very well. Show him in.” She would get it over with.
“Shall I bring tea?” Robbins asked.
“No. He won’t be staying long.” She stowed Robert’s letters inside the desk drawer, steeling herself as she rose to greet him.
“I came to offer my condolences,” the vicar said, reaching for her hand. “Your husband was a fine man.”
“Thank you.” She would say very little and not engage him in conversation. But Rev. Hamlin sat down in one of the chairs by the fireplace as if she had offered it to him. Good manners required her to take the other chair.
“Robbins told me about the tragic circumstances of your husband’s death and about the woman who took his life and her own.”
“Then there’s nothing left to say.”
The vicar paused, then leaned forward in his chair. “Audrey . . . why do you suppose your husband got into the car with her?” The kindness in his eyes, the gentleness in his voice, nearly undid her. She couldn’t reply. It was a question she had never dared to ask and didn’t want to contemplate now. “I didn’t come here to cause you more pain,” he continued. “My job ever since the war began has been a difficult one as I’ve tried to defend God and explain the unexplainable. People ask why He allows these tragedies to happen, and I don’t have an answer except to say that He knows things that we don’t know and sees things we can’t possibly see. I can only urge you to continue forward, like a ship in the fog, perhaps, trusting His love.”