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Authors: Mary Wood

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BOOK: All I Have to Give
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‘Thank you. But I can manage.’

Without taking any heed of her, he followed her through.

Looking at him, she said, ‘I said I can manage, thank you.’ He pointed to his ears. Her stupid forgetfulness flustered her. ‘I – I’m sorry. I forgot.’

‘Thank you, M’lady. When people forget, I feel that I am normal.’

‘Oh, you are! I – I mean, why shouldn’t you be? Please leave me now.’ His nearness was too much for her.

‘I don’t think you want me to leave, M’lady.’ A mixture of fear and excitement shivered through her body. She couldn’t take her eyes from his. His voice caressed
her. ‘Don’t be afraid of me. I would never hurt you. You are all I think about. My life is nothing when you are away.’

‘Oh dear, I . . .’

His body swayed towards her. She froze. Half of her wanted him to kiss her, but the other half screamed out in protest that he had the temerity to do so. Her hesitation lost her the battle. His
lips touched hers. Sinking into his body, she allowed the kiss, drank it in, felt the world become a different place and knew herself to be changed forever.

When he released her, he made no apology. His eyes told her what was in his heart. And she knew that hers gave back all the love he had for her.

‘Andrina, where are you?’

Eloise! Oh no.
Shrinking back from Jay, she looked over towards the closed gate. Her sister was not yet in sight. ‘Go, Jay, please go.’ Mouthing the words did not matter,
for he knew what she had said. Anger flickered in his eyes, but he said nothing, just turned and walked away.

The hinge of the garden gate squealed its protest at being opened. It was funny that she hadn’t heard it do that when she had passed through it.

‘I’m here. I’m just going to get a basket to fill with strawberries. I thought I would prepare them for you in the summerhouse and we could have them for our tea instead of
cake.’

‘You are a strange one at times. Oh, is that Jay? I haven’t seen him yet. Did you speak to him? Is everything all right with him?’

Thank goodness Eloise didn’t see what passed between us.

‘Why do you say I’m a strange one? I was bored, so I thought I would do something different – that’s all.’

‘But to come into the kitchen garden and pick your own strawberries? That isn’t like you at all. Even when you are looking for something different to do, you have never chosen to do
what one of the servants could do for you. What are you up to, Andrina? You worry me sometimes.’

Eloise’s glance went to Jay’s retreating back and then came back to Andrina. Holding her breath, Andrina hoped there was no hint in her demeanour of what had just taken place and was
mortified when the blush that had started to creep up from her neck flushed her face. Eloise’s eyes narrowed and she asked, ‘You wouldn’t do anything improper, would you, Andrina?
The servants and gardeners are our responsibility. We must treat them with respect and in a proper manner at all times. If you have stepped over the line, you had better put things right
immediately. Am I to call Jay back?’

‘No! No, please don’t. We conversed, and he forgot his manners. I chastised him. That is all. He is embarrassed, but he’s back in his place. You mustn’t put him through
it twice.
Please!’

‘Very well. Come on – let’s forget it. I’ll help you pick the strawberries; it will be fun.’

Able to breathe more freely at last, Andrina wiped away the beads of sweat that had formed on her brow and was glad of the distraction of turning her back on Eloise and crossing to the pile of
baskets stacked near the greenhouse. Taking one of them back to Eloise, she found herself thinking about Jay’s background once more.

‘Don’t you find Jay a bit of a mystery? I mean, it is thought he belonged to the gypsies, but from what I have heard, they are more likely to steal a baby than give one away. And Jay
has this air about him. Sometimes he appears to be more of a gentleman than a working-class man.’

‘Is that wishful thinking, dear sister? Look, I’ve seen how you are attracted to him. Please don’t be. Please put all thoughts of him out of your mind, for it can only end in
heartache for you, and worse for him.’

‘That is nonsense. How dare you suggest such a thing? I’m disgusted with you, Eloise!’

‘Well, just be careful. It is easy to fall for someone who is out of bounds. It’s the excitement of it. Look, why don’t we look into doing some war work? It would be wonderful
to be with Edith, or some of the others who have gone. And it cannot possibly be as bad as everyone is saying. What do you think?’

What did she think! She hated the thought of anything that would take her away from Jay. Now that they had declared, by way of a kiss, how they felt for each other, she didn’t even want to
go back to London again. It was ironic, given that only half an hour ago she’d been longing to go back there.

‘That was a big sigh. Sorry, old thing – I didn’t mean to badger you. I understand. But, for me, I have to do my bit for the war.’

And I have to pursue my impossible love,
thought Andrina.
That will mean a war in itself, and being ostracized from society. Will I be able to bear that?

At this moment she did not know.

5
Albert and Jimmy

The Battle of Albert, the Somme, July 1916
Another disastrous day

A corporal in General Allenby’s Third Army, Albert Price knew he’d done well. A volunteer, he’d taken to the scant training that he’d been given and had
come out with flying colours. Keen to do his duty to the best of his ability, he’d made it his business to learn all he could from the regular-army blokes. Now he had the sort of
responsibility he probably wouldn’t be given if there hadn’t been a war on. But, with so many killed, he had been the only choice the officers had. Albert hoped he had the qualities
that would be needed. It had seemed strange to him that the battle they were engaged in was called the Battle of Albert – oh, he knew that it was pronounced differently to his name, as this
place sounded more like ‘Albear’, but it was spelt the same. Not that it made any difference what the battle was called; the hardship and terror of it never left them. With every day it
became more difficult to follow the order of the whistle and send his young boys over the top of the trench; and even to go over himself, as each time he was certain a bullet had his name on
it.

Sometimes he wished it had, because life in the trenches worsened with every passing hour. Incessant rain turned the ground into a bog that sucked everything into it. His feet were constantly
wet and bitterly cold. But today, the 10th of July, was different: the sun was up, the sky was blue and some of the ruts in the ground were beginning to crust over. He hoped it wasn’t an omen
that things were going to go badly; it had been like this on the first day of the Somme offensive and that had been a disastrous day.

Not used to the warm, humid atmosphere, Albert ran his finger around his collar to allow the air to circulate. As he did so, he noticed one or two of the boys fanning themselves. Some of them
he’d never seen before, as the faces around him changed daily and diminished in number. Frightened boys, too young to be here, came and died. He shuddered to think how many faces he’d
helped to cover with the death-wrap and had shoved dirt on, in the mass graves. But worse than that were the injured. He always helped to move them to the clearing stations, and sometimes, if he
could get permission, helped those that he knew would die get to the hospital, so that he could be with them when they took their last breath. Promising impossible things to them, then helping to
bury them.

Why? Why, in the course of the Earth’s history, were they the chosen ones to do this job? Through lack of food and being eaten alive by lice and rats, they were like corpses themselves;
they were not up to the job. But he would not show that.

Looking along the line of kids he would have to shove over to their almost certain death, he caught the eye of young Jimmy O’Flynn. Jimmy had only joined them this week, but already he had
found a place in Albert’s heart. A bright kid, he’d shown intelligence in the way he picked up new skills quickly, and his cheeky manner made for a bit of light-hearted banter. But that
was slowly diminishing, as the reality of war took hold. After trudging for nearly one hundred miles, Jimmy and his pals had arrived exhausted. One battle – their first – had halved
their number. That was a lot for a kid to take.

On his first trip up the ladder to the top of the trench and over into no-man’s-land, Jimmy had turned, just before disappearing, and had given a wink, saying, ‘I’ll show
them.’ The lad had come here with spirit in his belly, wanting to avenge the deaths of his brothers. His spirit was now in his socks. At this moment it seemed to have deserted him altogether,
as his huge eyes stared out of sunken sockets. Eyes that held despair.

All Albert could do was nod at Jimmy in a fatherly way, as no words would be heard over the barrage of explosions that made your ears sing and hurt your throat; not that he knew how a father
would react in any given situation. He’d been brought up in an orphanage – a prison for children whom no one loved. Shaking this thought from him, he hooked on to the hope they all had
for this attack.

The strategy had been to bombard the enemy line, and hope to make a hole in the Germans’ barbed-wire defences and take out some of their powerful guns, leaving the way clear for a final
assault that should result in wiping out the Germans and bring a swift end to the war, or at least create a defining moment towards that goal.

Forgetting Jimmy and the rest of the lads for a moment, Albert allowed himself to think of Edith. He couldn’t believe that he would ever meet someone like her. She was well above his
station in life and very beautiful, in a calm sort of a way, with a loveliness that shone from her. No, that was too soppy a way to describe her, as she had guts and a determination that he
hadn’t come across in many men, let alone in a woman.

To think, though, that there was a chance she returned his feelings! It was an impossible thought, but when he’d been at the hospital with a badly injured lad a couple of days ago,
they’d had a moment together. He’d used every ounce of his courage and told her, ‘I ’ope I’m not speaking out of turn, as I wouldn’t want to offend yer, but I
think I am falling in love with yer.’ Ha! Imagine him using such fancy words. If she had been one of his own kind, he’d have said, ‘Cor, I don’t ’alf fancy you,
girl’ in the good old London way. But she wasn’t, and he knew how to speak proper when it was called for.

She’d blushed and looked down at the ground.

He’d been mortified and tried to explain. ‘I’m sorry, Edith, I ’ad no right to speak out. Yer come from a different world ter me, but I might die any day and I’d do
so a lot ’appier knowing you knew ’ow I felt.’

She’d raised those lovely hazel eyes of hers and told him, ‘Albert, I am very attracted to you, but it is difficult.’

He’d nearly jumped for joy. She’d said she was attracted to him! But her saying it was difficult had dampened his spirits, as it had highlighted the gulf between them. And that was
as wide and almost as hard to cross as the Somme. But then, what did all that matter now? Leaning towards her, he’d said, ‘Love can conquer all, they say, Edith. Besides, people are
changing – all this is changing us. And it’s likely that me being a cockney lad and you a lady won’t make a difference. Go with your feelings, Edith, not with bloody
convention.’

Still looking into his eyes and stumbling over her words, she’d sealed his happiness by saying, ‘I – I’m not used to baring my soul, Albert, but I do have feelings for
you. I can’t explain it, and it is something I never dreamed would happen, but I can’t stop thinking about you. I . . . it’s just. Oh, I don’t know, I . . .’

His heart had hurt with the way he longed to take her in his arms. But he couldn’t. He didn’t care what would happen to himself, but he couldn’t bring that trouble down on
Edith. No fraternizing was the rule; and, besides, she might have been upset by such an action. He had to remember that she wasn’t his usual type. He had to act differently with her. Take his
time.

But he hadn’t left her without gaining something. Besides knowing she had feelings for him, she’d agreed to a date with him! He’d told her his rest period was due and had asked
her if she would meet up with him. He had three days owing to him, and they were scheduled for the last week of July – a time that seemed would never come and now felt like years away, as his
longing for them had increased, knowing that he was to spend some of it with Edith. Well, at least she had said she would like to, and would try to arrange a day off. He was ignoring the fact that
she’d added, ‘But only as a friend. Please do not read any more into this, and you must understand that it has to be a secret, as my reputation is at stake.’

Albert had taken her acceptance as confirmation that her feelings were deeper than she’d admit to.
God, please let me live to make that meeting. Just this one is all I ask, as
I’ve no right to ask you to spare me. Not when so many around me are dying. But while I’m speaking to you, can you look after me lads today? Bring them all back and in one piece.
His ‘Amen’ went into the sound of an almighty crash, the biggest blast of the offensive. As it died away, the shrill sound of a whistle pierced the air around him.
This is
it!

Waving the lads up the ladder, he told each one, ‘Good luck is with yer today. The Germans ’ave ’ad their defences blown to kingdom come, so go get ’em, son.’

They went over without protest. Some didn’t get far before they were caught in machine-gun crossfire and had the life blasted out of their bodies. Others made a few yards’ progress
before they too fell; dead or injured, he did not know, but by the time he went over the top himself, he knew his face to be awash with tears, as his feet trod the bodies of his lads deeper into
the caked mud. But there was no time to zigzag between them.

Those still standing were moving slowly forward, snipers picking them off as they went. This wasn’t supposed to be happening! The barrage of bombs should have given them an easy walk
across. ‘Take all you can’ had been the order. Some of the packs loaded onto the lads’ backs must weigh around fifty pounds. ‘And walk,’ they’d been told.
‘Conserve your energy.’
It was madness, bloody madness.
His own bloody pack weighed a ton! Sometimes he questioned the mentality of his superiors, for they could have made sure
they’d gained ground and a new strategic point, and then sent parties back for their supplies.

BOOK: All I Have to Give
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