Full Circle (24 page)

“
All right, then. We’ll have to work on that,” said Nick laughing. “It’s so good to see you both.”

Nick could only stay for a week and there was no cottage by the sea this time. Lily had to share him with Olivia and she secretly felt a little jealous. She was starved for attention and wanted him all to herself. It seemed that every time he would reach for her after the baby fell asleep she would wake up screaming “Mom”. Lily thought that maybe she was jealous too. She’d never had to share mommy before. By the third night, Martha and George moved the cradle to their room to give them some much needed privacy. They heard Livvy yelling, but ignored her, too starved for each other to sacrifice even a moment to their greedy, little daughter.

Nick seemed more optimistic this time and he thought that the war would be over soon. Lily wanted to believe him with all her heart. Every time they said “goodbye” she felt more desolate. How many more would there be?

As Lily waved goodbye to Nick at the end of the week, she hoped it would be for the last time. Maybe the next time he came back it would be for good. Lily said a little prayer as she walked out of the station into the spring sunshine and went home to take Olivia for a walk. She needed to walk to release some of the tension she was feeling. Every time Nick left, she felt disoriented and restless for days before the routine finally sucked her back in.

The school year would be ending soon and the children would be off for the summer holidays. Lily was planning to spend time at the Rectory with Olivia in tow. She had also volunteered to do some reading for patients at the hospital. Some servicemen were being sent over to Penzance to convalesce and the hospital was looking for volunteers. Lily felt guilty that she hadn’t done more war work, like her mother. She was always off rolling bandages and putting together care packages for the troops.

Lily didn’t like going to the hospital. She knew all about the horrors of war, but in this place they were staring her in the face. Most of the patients were in their twenties and most of them would never be whole again. She tried not to get particularly attached to any particular soldier, but in their loneliness and frustration they tended to fall in love with any young woman who happened to be there and Lily did not want to hurt them any more than they already were. She read them stories, wrote letters to their families and girlfriends and occasionally took them out into the garden in a push chair. She was genuinely happy when someone was released and sent home. Maybe they would still have a shot at some kind of normal life after the war ended.

Her visits to the Rectory had changed somewhat since the baby came. Molly was already fourteen and she gladly took Olivia from Lily while she visited with the other children. Molly was practically a young lady and she didn’t fancy childish games anymore. She had gotten her period that winter and now she considered herself above the others. The older boys were more obsessed by war than ever and they had actually been spending time with Edward, who was ordered by their father to help out at the Rectory as well. They spent hours poring over maps and marking places of battles and areas that were still occupied. The boys did not have much interest in Lily any more.

Helen, Harriett and Margo were close to ten now and their dolls and tea sets were lying in the corner of their room unused. In times of peace they would probably still be playing with dolls, but war matures children quickly. They were quiet and subdued and spent a lot of time walking and reading in the garden. Lily’s heart ached for these kids. They seemed so mature, so grown up.

When Lily came to the Rectory she spent most of her time with Andrew and Michael. At six years old they still wanted to play and go on expeditions to magical places where good always triumphed over evil. They grew tired of the old stories that Lily usually read to them, so she took to making up new ones. She was careful not to include parents in the stories for fear of reminding them that they had no clue as to whether they would see their own again.

The boys had no interest in Olivia. As a matter of fact they barely acknowledged her. They saw her as an interloper who took their surrogate mother away. They thought of Lily as belonging to them and this little, cute baby was not a part of their plans. They were only too happy to see Molly take Livvy away to play in the garden or to read her a story.

Olivia did not mind being handed over to the older girl. She enjoyed the attention and loved being pampered. To Molly she was a big doll who could be dressed up and played with for hours. Molly loved making little pig-tails with Livvy’s tangerine curls and tying them with a green ribbon to match her eyes. Livvy was talking more by the summer and she was always saying, “Go to Molly. Go to Molly.” Lily was happy to oblige. She felt a little guilty about letting Olivia spend so much time with Molly, but it was nice to have a little time alone with the boys.

The time that Lily enjoyed the most was when she left the baby with her parents and went off on her own. There was a little cove that her and Nick had discovered while staying at the cottage. It was out of the way, but it was beautiful and most of all, private. After living with her parents and brother for several years Lily had almost forgotten what privacy was. She was always surrounded by people, be they her parents, patients at the hospital or the children at the Rectory. She craved time alone to reconnect with herself and think the things that she dreamed of and missed. She often replayed scenes in her head from before the war and then times with Nick and Ian. At this point, Ian seemed like a distant memory to her. She had taken a small snapshot of him and one of Nick from Aunt Gwen before she left for Cornwall. She needed something to look at and remember that he had been real.

Lily was walking back from the cove one August afternoon when she heard someone calling her name. She turned around, but didn’t see anyone and continued to walk. She heard her name again and this time she saw someone waving to her from behind the trunk of a thick tree.

“
Lucy! What are you doing here and why are you hiding behind a tree?” Lucy looked nothing like the wholesome girl that Lily had last seen in London. She looked pale despite the summer sunshine and her green dress hung off her frame. There were dark circles under her eyes and her hair was pulled back into a severe bun, which made her look older than she was.

“
Lucy, what’s wrong?” Lily asked concerned. Lucy was about to say something, but a great sob escaped her and she just ran to the nearest bench and sat down with her head in her hands. Lily sat down next to her and waited for her to stop crying. She put her arm around Lucy and just held her while she sobbed. Once she finally calmed down, Lily looked at her expectantly and the story finally came out.

Rebecca stopped by a liquor store and bought a good bottle of red wine. She didn’t know much about wines, so she asked the clerk and he helped her pick out something suitable. She was a little nervous as she took a cab to the address Jamie gave her and got out in front of a white townhouse, identical to all the other houses on that block. Becky took a deep breath and rang the doorbell.

Jamie opened the door himself and pulled her inside. He gave her a lingering kiss and then pulled her by the hand into the living room. Rebecca wasn’t sure what she had expected a typical British house to look like, but it certainly wasn’t this. The walls were painted a very light beige, almost the same color as the bone colored leather couches, which were grouped around a large, low coffee table of very dark wood. There were several other tables of the same wood, one of them placed squarely between the large windows. There was a silver urn on the table, which held a huge bouquet of lilies. The only splashes of color in the room were the Kandinsky paintings and the colorful rug centered under the coffee table. There were no knick-knacks or family photographs. The only personal item in the room was the huge black and white portrait that hung above the modern fireplace. It showed two little boys, aged approximately two and five, looking solemnly into the camera with their arms around each other. There was no question about who the boys could be.

“
Becky, this is my brother, Jack,” said Jamie as Jack got up from the armchair and approached them. There wasn’t that much resemblance between the brothers. Jack was shorter and thinner than Jamie with short, brown hair and eyes the color of strong tea. He did have the same amazing lashes, Rebecca noted. They were just making small talk as Jamie’s mother came into the room. She was as much of a surprise as the room itself. Rebecca expected someone in a tweed suit with a string of pearls around her neck, but Ellen Brandon was the furthest thing from that image of a British matron. She had thick, short, blond hair cut in a modern, shaggy style and the same incredible lashes over her aquamarine eyes. Instead of the sensible tweed, she was wearing a pair of faded jeans and an aubergine colored cashmere hoodie. She extended her hand and gave Becky a firm handshake.

“
Good to meet you. I am Ellen, Jamie’s Mum. I am sorry my husband couldn’t be here. He is a barrister and had to be in court today, but we’ll have a splendid lunch just the four of us. I see you’ve met Jack. Why don’t you two chat while Jamie helps me in the kitchen? Do you like Shepherd’s Pie?”

“
Sure. Great. Love it,” stammered Rebecca as Ellen turned back to the kitchen and took Jamie with her.

“
Sit down. Get comfortable,” Jack offered as he sat back down in the armchair he vacated earlier. “Mum’s been cooking all morning. She is really trying to impress you. This is the first time in a very long while that my dear brother has invited a girl home for lunch. We couldn’t wait to meet you. But, no pressure,” he said laughing at Becky’s expression.

“
So are you still at school?” asked Becky in an effort to change the subject. “What are you studying?”

“
Still architecture,” replied Jack.

“
Still?”

“
Oh, I guess he didn’t tell you about all that. Well, we have a few minutes while Mum scorches the pie. I’ll fill you in,” said Jack helpfully.

“
Jamie and I had always been interested in architecture. We even asked for a trip to Italy as our graduation present, so that we could study the buildings we’ve heard about for so long. Our plan was to get our degrees and then open a firm together. You know, Brandon and Brandon, and all that. A couple of years ago when Jamie was already half-way through his studies I took him to a party in Soho at this bloke’s flat. We had a great time, but I had a few too many stouts and insisted on driving home. Jamie argued with me, but I wouldn’t give him the keys to my car. Well, needless to say, we had an encounter with an obnoxious telephone pole that came at us out of nowhere,” he said with a smirk. “I didn’t have a scratch on me, but Jamie hit his head on the windshield and ended up in hospital with a severe concussion. He stayed there for three days and when he came back to school a few weeks later, he went straight to the dean and changed his major to History. He was always a bit of a WWII nut. Our granddad was in the RAF, you know, flew Spitfires during the last war. Jamie loved the stories, but this time he decided to pursue it seriously. Lost all interest in architecture. He is doing a Masters in French Resistance. Did he tell you that?”

“
Yes. He mentioned it when we met on the plane,” answered Rebecca. She didn’t have much time to ponder these revelations because Jamie came into the room and called them into the dining room for lunch.

The dining room looked much like the living room. Cream colored walls, a large glass table and chairs made out of the same dark wood as the furniture in the living room.

“
My mom loves modern stuff,” whispered Jamie as he took a seat next to her. Ellen gave her a smile as she put the food out on the table. There was a big salad and the pie, which as Jack predicted was a trifle scorched around the edges. Rebecca pretended not to notice. Ellen finally sat down at the head of the table and fixed Becky with a curious stare. Becky realized that Ellen probably was as good at grilling potential mates as her own mother and resigned herself to answering her questions for the best of her ability.

“
You remember I wrote you about the farm I was sent to? Well, the couple was very nice and I was happy to work there. They did not give us much supervision, like other farmers, and I had time to myself as long as the work was done. I would go for long country walks after supper and that’s when I met Peter. He owns the neighboring farm. He tried to enlist, but they wouldn’t have him because of his asthma. He seemed so sad and I felt sorry for him and we started meeting in this meadow several times a week and …” Lucy sobbed again.

“
You fell in love,” supplied Lily.

“
Yes. He said that we would get married after the War and I would never have to go back home. I was worried about telling Dad that Peter is not Catholic. Mum converted, you know, when she married Dad, but I would never have asked that of Peter. Anyway, I shouldn’t have worried. When I told him that I am pregnant, he informed me that he is married already. He is separated from his wife and she is working as a chauffeur for some Colonel in London. He said that he was just having a bit of fun and I should put the baby up for adoption. Who would adopt an infant in the middle of the War, I’d like to know? I cried for a week and then Mr. Thompson gave me two weeks off and told me to go get myself sorted out. I couldn’t go home, so I came here. I knew you were staying with your parents. Lily, you are the only person I can trust. Will you help me? I won’t have this baby. I won’t.”