A Rose In Flanders Fields (29 page)

BOOK: A Rose In Flanders Fields
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‘What will you do?’

‘I’ll stay in Calais and lay low, then, in a day or two, when Oli brings Kitty over, I’ll drive them back here.’

‘And what if Oliver doesn’t get back within his few days?’

At this, Archie looked even more shifty. ‘I’ll cover for him,’ he said. When I opened my mouth to speak he raised a hand. ‘Just as you’re covering for Kitty,’ he reminded me.

‘It’s nothing like it! You and Captain Maitland are serving officers, Kitty and I are volunteers. How dare you compare the two! I will not travel with a deserter.’

‘He’s not deserting!’ Archie looked around, then lowered his voice although we were quite alone. ‘He’s merely trying to bring a violent man to justice. Don’t pretend you wouldn’t give anything to see the same. This is for Kitty, remember.’

‘I don’t even know for certain if I’m right,’ I pointed out, wavering slightly under the force of his argument. ‘Look, Archie, don’t risk this. I’ll talk to her, put the name in front of her and see if she reacts.’

‘Let Oliver do it,’ Archie insisted. ‘He’ll likely have more chance of talking her around than…’ His words faded away but I knew what he meant, and it stung.

‘Than the person whose fault all this is?’

‘Darling,’ he caught my good hand, ‘it wasn’t you.’

‘I played my part. Why can’t you go over his head, to his commanding officer?’

Archie shook his head. ‘Without Kitty’s word they’ll just close ranks. Without her there’s no crime, and Oliver would be branded untrustworthy, willing to throw accusations around at a time when everyone needs to be unified.’ His grey eyes darkened. ‘We can’t risk Potter getting away with it, when I think of what he did to that poor girl I could kill him myself.’ His fury, though understandable, took me aback slightly; he’d always been so calm, seemingly unflappable.

I nodded. ‘All right. I owe her this, at least.’

When Archie had gone I went back to my work and, as the afternoon drifted on, I pondered all he had said and reluctantly accepted it was the best, and maybe the only way. Kitty would not respond to me, I was sure of it; not only had I left her alone that night, I had also, in her eyes, foisted her on strangers while I swept blithely away with the man she wanted. And I already had one of my own.

My own…

Will’s image danced in front of my eyes, the ghost of his lost smile lighting his beloved face, and I felt again the crushing loss of the life we had dreamed of. I wondered what he was doing now, if word had reached him of the shelling, and if he was worried about me. I still hadn’t heard whether or not he had been rotated back to reserve, and wished I had time to go to France before we left tonight, to see him sitting, bored but safe, a mile or more behind our own lines instead of yards away from the Bosche and sinking in an ocean of mud.

I wanted to feel his arms wrapped tightly around me, telling me without words that he was still mine, if I could only wait a little longer. And I wanted to tell him I would wait forever, that he
was
the same man, deep down, that I’d fallen in love with, that he couldn’t push me away no matter how much he wanted to. His heart and soul rested in my hands, but my hands were steady, and always strong enough to hold him.

Dozing in my chair, waiting for Archie to come back, I let my mind drift back to Gretna in 1914 and how he had looked when we married; the seasoned soldier he would soon become already showing through the last vestiges of the charmingly boyish looks, and matching the quiet certainty in his manner. I couldn’t give him up, even if he wanted me to. As soon as I was fit and well again I would see him, whether he wanted it or not. I’d camp out in the battalion HQ until he came off the lines if I had to, I’d crawl through all the mud in France just to –

‘Wake up, darling!’

I jumped. The car had arrived without my noticing, so intent was I on finding a way back into Will’s embrace. I shifted on my camp chair, wincing as my stiffened shoulder protested at the movement. In a flash Archie was out of the car and by my side.

‘Are you sure you don’t want a nurse to travel with you? I’m sure one can be spared, after all you’ve earned a little care and attention.’

‘Definitely not,’ I said, ‘they’re too important here. Besides, I’ll have you to look after me. Won’t I?’ I said this quite pointedly, and by the way he glanced over at the car I guessed the plan hadn’t changed. I didn’t know whether to be relieved or frightened; if he didn’t’ get back in time, and Archie was suspected of aiding a deserting officer, he would face imprisonment for up to ten years.

Oliver would be shot.

As we parted company that evening at Calais, Archie hugged me gently, mindful of my shoulder and neck. ‘You and Uncle Jack have got almost-matching scars now,’ he said with a smile, but he looked concerned. ‘I’ve wired Lizzy that you’re coming, but haven’t told her you’re hurt, or she’d worry. Now try not to overdo things, aye? Oliver will carry anything that needs carrying. And if you pick the new ambulance up on the way over, instead of on the way back, he can drive it down to Devon and maybe get back sooner rather than waiting for trains.’

I looked out over the icy grey waters. ‘How are you going to cover for him?’ I wasn’t sure I wanted to know, not really; the less I understood the better. But if I knew a plan was in place I might relax a little, at least.

Archie glanced around but there was no one interested in us here. ‘It’s Easter, traffic is heavy. I’ll send a telegram to HQ from here on Saturday night, explaining we’ve had a minor road accident on our way back. He’ll only be a day late at most, we’re sure just the sight of him will tip the balance with Kitty, and he can drive back right away. Hopefully with Kitty in tow.’ He squeezed my hand. ‘Remember it’s for her.’

‘I know,’ I said, ‘but I can’t help feeling –’

‘Can we go?’ Oliver said, and his face was taut and pale. He actually looked terrified. ‘I want to get on this damned ferry before I lose my nerve.’

With one last hug, Archie left for the hospital and I felt very lonely, suddenly. Despite the ease with which he was waved through after his papers were checked, Oliver’s fear did not abate as the ferry moved off, and now, as France faded into the darkness behind us, he seemed to grow tighter and tighter with every wave we cut through. After less than an hour he removed himself from sight, and I didn’t see him again until we docked at Dover, where there was another shock in store.

Chapter Nineteen

The train to Sevenoaks was due in a few minutes. My shoulder had stiffened horribly during the night, and although I tried to keep it mobile there was a low, throbbing pain that the powders I’d been given didn’t seem to touch. Relieved to remember that this time, at least, I wouldn’t have to drive, I was looking forward to getting beyond all the business of posing for … I caught my breath, wondering why I hadn’t realised before; I was no Elsie Knocker, but whenever a donation was collected there were photographers and newspaper reporters everywhere.

‘Oliver, you can’t possibly come with me!’

There was no answer, and when I turned to look behind, where Oliver had been standing a moment before, there was no one there. I looked around, but there were only strangers on the platform. Perhaps he had gone to speak to someone he knew, or to check we were in time for the train? I waited, not wanting to move away from where he knew I’d be, but growing more and more anxious as the minutes ticked away and, when he hadn’t returned by the time the train rolled in, I walked up the platform, craning my neck for sight of him.

Passengers disembarked, were replaced, and still there was no sign. I looked into all the carriage windows I could, straining through the glass to the faces beyond but not seeing him anywhere. The guard began slamming the doors shut – I had to make a decision, and I seized my case and scrambled quickly into the nearest carriage just as the whistle blew. The train began to chuff gently out of the station, and I hung out of the window and finally, through the throng of waving friends and relations, I saw Oli. Standing very still, his face turned away, but recognisable by the bright red curls tumbling in the breeze.

Realisation dropped coldly into place; he’d had no intention of either coming to Devon, or returning to Belgium. He had tricked Archie and me, and if he didn’t return, and Archie sent that telegram…it didn’t bear thinking about. I felt a helpless, boiling rage at Oliver’s selfishness. His nervousness started to make more sense now, the jittery eagerness to get on board the boat, the reluctance to be seen…I thought of how close Will had come to being executed, and compared that to this man using his sister’s terrible situation to escape, and I felt like reporting Oliver myself, and hang the consequences.

For a moment I toyed with doing just that, and with getting off at the next station and hoping he would still be here when I managed to get back, but I knew it was hopeless to think he would be. He’d only waited long enough to ensure I got onto the train myself The thing now was to get word to Archie, to stop him sending that incriminating telegram, and then to somehow track down Oliver and persuade him to go back before he himself was sentenced for desertion. And, almost seeming unimportant next to those desperate problems: how to convince Kitty to give up the name of her attacker now?

The ambulance bumped into the farmyard as the sky was lightening the following morning. Having been awake all the previous night and day, and driven down from Kent alone, I had finally pulled over to sleep as fatigue overtook me, and now felt groggy and sore. But the sight of the early-morning activity, of a widely yawning Land Girl and a brisk Mrs Adams coming out of the kitchen, and the knowledge that I would soon see Lizzy again, gave me a flicker of deep pleasure.

Mrs Adams quickly shook her head and pointed down the lane, raising her voice above the squawking of startled chickens, and the rumble of the engine. ‘Lizzy in’t here, love. She’s back home for a few days. Down there about two miles. Can’t miss it, this end of the row of five, just over the bridge. Be sure and come up to see us later, I’ll have a bit o’ dinner for you all.

The cottage was small but pretty, with a well-tended garden boasting a few blackcurrant and gooseberry bushes, and windows that caught the early morning sun, shining as though they’d just been cleaned with vinegar; I hoped Lizzy wasn’t overdoing things. I switched off the engine just as the front door opened, and I immediately saw that the Lizzy who greeted me was not the same as the one to whom I had said goodbye such a short time ago. She had been just as healthy-looking, and just as cheerful, but there had been a slightly distant look in her eyes then, as if a vital part of herself had been lifted away, leaving her functioning but incomplete. This Lizzy was whole. And it only took two steps into the little kitchen to see why.

Uncle Jack stood beside the table with a piece of toast in his hand, and a look of such surprise on his face that I knew Lizzy hadn’t told him of my imminent arrival. For one blissful moment, Archie, Oliver, Kitty, and even Will, were swept from my mind, and there was only the deep relief and joy at the sight of this man, and I knew for certain, and for the first time, that he was forgiven. I was across the room before he had time to speak, and I heard him throw the toast back onto the table a second before I reached him and he lifted me off the ground in a tight hug. I didn’t even mind the pain that sliced into my shoulder, and the constant nagging ache from my broken tooth.

‘Evie, darling girl,’ Jack said, and his familiar voice, with its faint north-western accent, was the undoing of my tightly held composure. I knew his love for me was strong enough to hold me up, so I let go. The moment my feet touched the floor again I laid my head against his chest and began to sob. I heard Lizzy’s exclamation of dismay from behind, but Jack spoke, murmuring something I couldn’t hear and I sensed he was telling her not to worry.

He smoothed down my hair, just like he had when I’d been a little girl and taken one of my many tumbles. Back then he’d never told me to stop climbing around like an adventurous boy, to ride my ponies with more decorum, or to walk down the stairs instead of running. He’d simply looked at my bruises and scrapes, taken my hand and led me outside to the apple trees where we’d count the small, hard apples on the branches and on the ground until I’d forgotten why I’d been crying. Now it was as if I was that child still, and he still knew how to make me forget my woes.

He drew me out into the little garden Lizzy had told me so much about, and we breathed in the clean, cold air of the early spring morning while I found the calm inside myself again. He had been working here too, I could tell, and as he showed me the shrubs he had planted and the shoots that already poked out of the half-frozen soil, he talked to me. About nothing in particular, mostly the types of plants he wanted to try and grow, but also about the Devon countryside, with which he had fallen in love every bit as deeply as he had with the woman who had brought him here.

I always enjoyed hearing him talk about Lizzy; knowing how she loved him, to hear him speak of her in such wondering tones, as if he didn’t deserve her and couldn’t quite believe she wanted him, warmed me right through and gave me hope. Eventually his voice faded away, and he waited for me to tell him what had propelled me into his arms with such relief and despair.

‘I can’t tell you just yet,’ I said apologetically. ‘I’ll talk to you both together. When we’re…’ I looked around, and couldn’t see Kitty anywhere, but I didn’t want to risk it. ‘Definitely alone,’ I finished.

‘All right,’ he said, and put his arm around me as we walked back to the little house. Lizzy was clearing away the last of the breakfast things, and Jack made me laugh by complaining she had tidied away his toast too soon.

‘Honestly, just because I threw it on the table doesn’t mean I was finished with it,’ he grumbled.

‘Too late,’ she said smartly, whipping the half-full mug of tea he’d also left to go cold. ‘If you can’t finish a simple meal without dragging the guests out to show off your garden, you miss out. The birds will enjoy it.’

The look she gave him belied her brisk words, and I glanced away; their eyes had locked together and the gaze remained unbroken. I wondered how long Jack had been back from Germany, and whether they had found privacy to be alone together in what must be a very full house indeed. Which reminded me.

BOOK: A Rose In Flanders Fields
6.08Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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