A Rose In Flanders Fields (35 page)

‘We had Will’s safety to spur us on,’ she reminded me. ‘And it turned out well in the end. Here we all are.’

‘Thanks to you,’ I said, and squeezed her hand. ‘Will might not have survived at all if you hadn’t found that notebook.’

‘Have you written to him?’

I showed her the little pile of letters. ‘And Mother and Lawrence too. If you have anything for me to post I’ll take it and go in the morning.’

‘Just something for Mary.’

‘How are Mary and Martin?’

‘Struggling, like everyone else, but getting through it. Poor Martin feels it dreadfully that he can’t go over and fight, especially now Mary is doing so well in her nursing. I think she’ll be a sister one day, they seem to think highly of her up in London.’

‘They should think themselves lucky Martin can’t go,’ I said. ‘There’s no glory in it, Lizzy, none at all. It’s just a mess, and a tired and terrible waste.’

Lizzy nodded. ‘I know, darling. But if those boys hadn’t had the spirit to go and fight, where would we be now? We can’t demean their sacrifice, and their bravery, by letting our disillusionment show. All we can do is try to keep the country safe and comfortable for their return. When they’ve won it for us.’

I marvelled a little at her quiet certainty, and decided she was right, up to a point. No matter what my own feelings, my own disgust and cynicism, our fighting men deserved our support, whether it was binding a wound, knitting a pair of socks, or providing food for the people at home. We were all in it, every last one of us, and all we could hope for was to come out of it alive.

Chapter Twenty-Four

There was a heavy frost two days later, on Monday morning. Easter Sunday had passed with no news, of course, but in quiet companionship and unspoken hope. Uncle Jack should have reached Calais on Saturday morning, it just remained to be seen whether he’d been able to find Archie before the telegram was sent that same evening.

I watched Lizzy make her way up the road towards Dark River Farm, picking her way among the puddles with their thin crusts of ice, and then turned away to follow the road to the village. My shoulder was stiff, and still ached, but as I walked I flexed my arm carefully and by the time I arrived in Yelverton I was moving more freely, and the stitches had stretched a little so they hurt less with each movement.

I wondered how long it would be before I was fit to return to work, and felt a little surge of sadness as I remembered Number Twelve.

‘Well, I wish you a good morning,’ the postmistress huffed, ‘since it don’t look too much like you’re ’avin’ one of those yet.’

I smiled. ‘I’m so sorry, I was just remembering something.’

‘You’ll be the lady then?’

‘Pardon?’

‘Young Mary’s friend. From Cheshire.’

I was none the wiser, until I remembered Lizzy’s real name. ‘Oh. Well, yes.’ Word clearly spread quickly here.

‘Then you’ll be wanting this.’ She handed me a telegram and my blood froze, but she had seen the same look on too many faces since 1914 and her voice softened. ‘It’s not from the war office.’

She moved away to serve someone else, and, with fingers that shook so badly I almost dropped it, I took a deep breath and read the telegram:

Calais successful stop No sign O stop Keep hopeful

‘Everything all right?’

Once again I barely realised the words were directed at me, but this time it was because of the thundering relief, and the sudden need to sit down that must have shown in the way I braced my hand on the counter-top.

‘Yes’ I managed. ‘Thank you. It seems it is a good morning, after all.’

‘Glad to ’ear it. Now, are those letters for posting, or just to decorate your glove?’

I’d forgotten them, in my relief, and passed them over with a still-shaking hand. Now it was simply a matter of finding Oliver and getting Archie’s papers back, and all might be well after all. Surely he couldn’t stay hidden for long.

‘I see the Americans have joined us,’ the other customer piped up, waving his newspaper.

The postmistress nodded as she glanced through the addresses on my letters. ‘And not a moment too soon if you ask me.’

They both looked at me, trying to draw me into the conversation in a friendly enough way, and I supposed I should have agreed, but I couldn’t help thinking that yet another country would now be sending its finest young men off to that filthy mud-hole to die…more families ripped apart, more young lives blighted. Of course it would mean a fresh injection of strength, and perhaps some respite for the longest-serving men, Will included, but rather than the buoyant mood that seemed to have gripped everyone else, it actually filled me with a strange, dark sorrow. Was no one to be spared?

It was almost a week later that I was finally pronounced fit for travel. Uncle Jack had returned to continue his search for Oliver, but the Swains in Liverpool claimed not to have seen or heard from him, likewise his family. It was too much of a risk to try and contact any friends; no one could be sure of their discretion. Kitty had taken the lack of success with surprising calm at first, but Lizzy told me she’d heard her weeping alone in her room. I remembered those nights after the attack, the soft hiccups, the anguished, tight-throated little moans, and my heart twisted for the girl; it seemed she, Lizzy and I had much in common when it came to concealing our grief from one another.

I allowed Frances to dress my shoulder once more, and she gave me a fierce hug and helped me on with my newly-washed greatcoat, then handed me a bag, into which she and the girls had put some spare clothes and a couple of old, many-times mended sheets.

‘Where will you stay?’ Lizzy asked as she pushed a packet of sandwiches into my pocket.

‘Elise has a new partner, and one or two others have joined them. She wired me a few days ago. They’ve got a place just outside Dixmude. A bit closer to things than Number Twelve, by all accounts.’

‘How much closer?’ Her voice was sharp, and I smiled.

‘Not right up, but you know, quicker for getting them out. Mrs Knocker and Mairi are still at Pervyse, I think, and still doing amazing work.’

‘Elise and the others will be sure to take care of you, won’t they?’

I hugged her. ‘Of course. The doctor will be whipping these stitches out any day now.’

‘Will you see any Americans?’ Belinda wanted to know. She, Jane and Sally had arrived to see me off, and it seemed she might need to be forcibly restrained from climbing into the ambulance beside me.

‘I have absolutely no idea,’ I said. ‘I don’t know where they’re stationed.’

‘Americans are so dashing. I do envy you, Evie, out there, doing such great things.’ She looked longingly at the empty front seat and I was glad she’d had no training and couldn’t come; she was such a bubbly thing, so full of romantic ideas about what she thought we were doing, I hadn’t the heart to wish the reality on her at all.

I drove out of the farmyard on the morning of 16 April, and there was snow still lying along the edges of the road, although the worst of it seemed to be over now. Behind me, Lizzy, Frances and the three Land Army girls waved frantically but I couldn’t lean out and wave back; my shoulder was immeasurably improved, but not to the extent where I could flail my arm around without causing fierce language to leap to the fore.

Rumbling off the ferry at Calais, I glanced with no more than casual interest at a group of soldiers gathered there awaiting transport, but one of them looked up and waved, and broke away from the group. I slammed on my brakes in surprise as he came closer.

‘Well, here’s a sight!’ Archie smiled, and hefted his kit-bag. ‘Any chance of a ride back?’

I gestured to him to get in. ‘What on earth are you doing here?’

‘Spent a couple of days in London after all,’ he said, swinging on board. He dropped his bag comfortably between his feet. ‘Uncle Jack stepped in and smoothed over my lack of papers,’ he went on in a lower voice. ‘He wanted me to help look for Oliver. I hate like hell to say it, but that laddie’s going to cop for it now, even if we find him.’ He looked at me anxiously, before I could question the coincidence of his being here. ‘How’s Kitty faring?’

‘A little better. Not well enough to travel though. You heard about…what happened?’

‘I did, aye.’ His voice shook a bit. ‘Poor little Kittlington. I cannae believe all that’s happened to the poor lass, and her so sweet. So trusting. I’d like to get m’hands on that scrawny –’

‘And end up court-martialled anyway? We need
her
word, Archie, or all we’ve got is you in prison.’

He sighed. ‘I know, I’d be no good to her locked away. Anyway, how are you?’

‘As you see. Much restored, and spoilt rotten by Lizzy and Frances. Is Jack still in England?’ I wondered if he’d already left for Berlin, but relaxed when Archie replied.

‘Aye. He’s doing everything he can to trace the young idiot, but drawing blanks at every turn I’m afraid.’ It wasn’t until we were well on our way, and I couldn’t rescind the offer of a lift, that he cleared his throat and said, somewhat sheepishly, ‘Actually I knew you’d be here. Uncle Jack told me which crossing you were hoping to make.’

I felt a little lurch of apprehension, but reminded myself that knowing I was there wasn’t the same as deliberately choosing the same crossing. I took a quick glance at him before returning my attention to the road. He’d turned away and was watching the landscape fly by, but I could see the faint flush on the back of his neck.

‘I’m glad Uncle Jack was able to get to you in time,’ was all I said.

‘You and me both, lass.’

The road had been badly shelled since the last time I had travelled it, and I failed to notice a new hole in the road until the last moment. I pulled hard on the wheel to avoid it, and almost managed, but clipped the very edge and wrenched at my right arm. I felt an all-too-familiar warmth at the side of my neck and had to stop, hissing in exasperation.

‘Right, that’s it,’ Archie said, and opened his door. ‘Slide over, I’m going to drive. I knew I should have suggested it before,’ he called out, as he crossed in front of the ambulance, ‘but I also knew what you’d say.’ As he climbed into the driver’s seat he looked over to continue his scolding, but stopped.

‘Ah, you silly wee girl,’ he breathed instead. He reached out to turn back the collar of my coat, and I winced. ‘You’ll need to get this looked at again before you go out to the new place.’

‘It’s fine, I just keep pulling the stitches, that’s all.’ I moved away from his hand, wishing he wasn’t so gentle, so obviously caring. Wishing he wasn’t him. Why couldn’t it be Will sitting here with me? I blinked away more tears, but this time they weren’t born of frustration.

‘Sweetheart, you’re back too soon,’ he said, and I heard the echo of my own words to Will, and the tears would not be held back. Archie misread them, and pulled me close. ‘You’ll be fixed up properly in no time,’ he murmured, and I shook my head against his shoulder, wanting to explain without hurting him or making him feel foolish. In the end it seemed easier to let him think it was the pain of my healing wound that had undone me.

I sat back as soon as it felt as if doing so was not an insult, and wiped at my eyes. ‘Go on then,’ I said, and forced a smile. ‘Let’s see you do a better job at getting this bus back to Dixmude.’

‘That’s not why I –’

‘I know, silly,’ I said, and now my smile felt more natural as he blushed again and started off. Unable to untangle the conflict in my own mind, I thought, instead, about Oliver Maitland. Twenty-one years old and facing the worst scenario he could ever have concocted in his own mind, as he left home to fight. I had to trust that justice would prevail, and that, whatever Oli’s punishment might be, he would at least be spared the horror of the firing squad, but it was becoming less likely with every passing day.

Archie handed the ambulance back to me at HQ. ‘At least come in and see the medic,’ he said, when I slid back behind the wheel.

I shook my head. ‘Elise or one of the others can sort me out when I get there. I’m not going to take up someone’s time for the sake of a bandage and a dab of iodine.’

He gave in, kissed his finger and touched my cheek, and told me he’d come and see me later, when I’d settled in. I wished he wouldn’t, but I smiled and waved, and made him promise to bring a loaf and some wine. I drove on, out past poor, shattered Number Twelve, over the pot-holed road, avoiding the worst bits from a memory I hadn’t realised I’d engaged; my mind was still on Oliver, and what Uncle Jack might be doing to prepare a solid defence. Eventually I saw the wooden board by the side of the road, pointing up a track: “Ambulance post #22.”

Elise heard me pulling to a stop outside the cottage and came out to meet me. She had a broad smile on her face, but looked a little bit secretive as she hugged me. ‘Jolly good to see you again, Davies. How’s your neck?’

‘Tons better,’ I said. ‘I just need help to clean it up, I pulled the stitches again.’ I looked at her closely. ‘How are you, though?’

She still sported a bandage on the side of her head, but she knew exactly what I meant, and shrugged, the smile fading. ‘I miss her, of course. She was the best out of us, you know.’

‘Nonsense. You brought out the best in each other. I’m so terribly sorry, Elise, and what’s worse is that I don’t think I even told you that.’

‘I wouldn’t have expected you to.’ She looked at the ambulance, and nodded her approval. ‘This will do splendidly. Come in, let’s introduce you. We’ve a few extra hands for a week or two before we all move on and leave you to it.’

‘What’s the new girl like?’

‘Not nearly as new as I led you to believe.’

‘What?’ I followed her into the cottage, and was nearly knocked off my feet by a laughing girl who threw her arms around me and began jumping up and down, taking me with her.’

‘Careful!’ Elise cried, but although my shoulder and neck protested the treatment, I couldn’t help laughing too.

‘Boxy! What in blazes are you doing here?’

‘Oh, I got utterly fed up at home, you know how it is. How are you, poppet?’

‘Tired,’ I confessed, disentangling myself from her enthusiastic embrace. ‘And I could do with a fresh bandage before my coat gets ruined. It’s marvellous to see you though. You must tell me all about how married life has treated you.’