Scorpion Sunset (24 page)

I think of you constantly and can't bear the thought of you locked up in a Turkish prison. I hope and pray that you are in stronger and better health than the survivors of the siege of Kut who were returned to the hospitals in Basra. Angela Smythe told me most of the men were so weak and thin they couldn't even rise from their beds.

My father returned from Kut in remarkably good health compared to the other officers who were sent downstream. He asked me to move in with him but changed his mind when heard the gossip about me and ordered me to leave his bungalow. Given what people were saying about me I couldn't return to the Butlers. Michael Downe offered to help me, but rather than impose on the few real friends I have, like Angela and Michael, I thought it best to leave Basra and make a new life for myself elsewhere.

As you see from the return address, I am in India, living and working in the convent where I was educated. Mother Superior was kind to me when I was a pupil. The nuns run an infirmary alongside the school that cares for local people. I nursed in the Lansing for a short while and once Mother Superior realised that I'd received some training she agreed that I could work there in return for my keep.

Given the gossip about me in military circles both in Basra and here in India I am using the name Maud Smith, but I never leave the convent nor venture into the convent school that has officers' daughters among the pupils. I see and speak only to the nuns and the locals who seek treatment in the infirmary.

I gave birth to a boy last December. I asked Mrs Butler to place him in an American orphanage. I hope she will do so and that he will find adoptive parents who can give him a better life than I am able to. I am writing this so you realise that if you could bring yourself to consider taking me back, I would come unencumbered by further responsibilities.

As long as I remain in the convent I will be financially self-sufficient, and have no need to draw on my wife's allowance.

As I haven't heard anything from you, I have no idea whether you have divorced me or not, or intend to divorce me in the future.

If you are, I beg you with all my heart to reconsider, John …

Maud stopped writing and considered how best to fill the space that still remained on the official Red Cross POW form. After gauging the number of lines she could squeeze in, she dipped her pen into the ink and continued.

So, as you see, I am supporting myself and hope to redeem myself in your eyes. I know what I am asking for when I plead with you to forgive me. All I can say is I am not the woman I was when you last saw me. It was hard to live in Basra in full knowledge of what was being said about me. I have suffered, but I know my suffering is nothing compared to yours. I will understand if I do not hear from you, but please, John, try and write even if it's only a few sentences to tell me that you don't want to see me again.

I send all my love, your own very sorrowful Maud who's only hope is that you allow her a second chance to be the wife she should have been.

Maud folded the letter, sealed it, and went to her washstand. She washed and dressed in the uniform she'd been given and covered her hair with a nurse's veil. When she looked at herself in the mirror she appeared more novice nun than nurse.

She resolved to have her photograph taken in the uniform. It was an image she wanted to project and imprint on John's consciousness. She wanted – no, she needed – to believe that she could make amends. That if she kept writing to John and sending him Red Cross parcels like the one she'd used Michael's money to buy, he would forgive her and take her back.

He simply had to. Because when she considered her life up until that point, she realised that John was the only person who'd loved her unselfishly and with all his heart.

Smythes' Bungalow, Basra

August 1916

‘Thank you,' Angela took the tea tray from the maid and set it in a low table in the drawing room. ‘And thank the cook for us. That was a lovely dinner.'

‘Yes, ma'am Smythe.'

‘It was a very good dinner,' Georgiana complimented. She rearranged the cushions at her back, and lifted Robin from his crib. ‘You've no idea how welcome this blissful domesticity is after the day I've had in the hospital.'

‘I heard a fight broke out among the Arabs in one of the streets down by the wharf.'

‘It did. We admitted fourteen men with various broken bones and degrees of concussion. On the plus side, no women and children were involved. They obviously had the sense to stay out of the way of the flying fists.'

‘What was it all about?' Angela asked.

‘Search me. We talked to them through interpreters but are none the wiser. It's possible the interpreters wanted to keep us in the dark but the injuries made a nice change from fevers and dysentery.' She looked down at the baby who was smiling up at her and playing with her rope of coral beads. ‘Every time I see this child he appears to have doubled in size. The rate he's growing he'll be talking and running around in no time.'

‘He will.'

Something in Angela's voice alerted Georgiana. ‘You don't want him to grow up.'

‘Of course. It's just that …'

‘You've become close to him and you're afraid Maud will return to reclaim him?'

‘No,' Angela was emphatic. ‘He's Maud's son and he'll always be Maud's son no matter how long I look after him. She gave birth to him, and that gives her the sole right to raise him. I only wished I knew where she was and what kind of a life she's living.'

‘You're concerned in case it's not conducive to bringing up a child?'

‘I'm concerned she might be in trouble and too proud to ask for help.'

‘I've met her, of course, and saw her in the mission, but I can't say I really know her. I've also heard the rumours about her. My first impression was she didn't seem the type to attract John. Too shallow, pretty, and fluffy. I always thought he'd marry a sensible woman, his intellectual equal who'd be able to play chess and discuss literature and art with him. Not a woman whose conversation only extended as far as fashion, balls, and parties.'

‘You didn't like her?'

‘It's not a question of liking or disliking Maud. I just thought that she was wrong for John. After meeting her, I couldn't help wondering if John had married her simply because she was the most suitable woman around. There is a shortage of unmarried women in India, isn't there?'

‘So I've heard.'

Angela poured the tea and set a cup on the side table beside Georgiana. ‘I've always thought of Captain Mason as an exceptionally kind, considerate, and gentle man. Not an intellectual, though.'

‘John's the most widely and best-read person I know. I was closer to him than Harry when we were growing up. Probably because Harry was always in trouble and I liked the quiet life too much to join my twin in his escapades.'

‘John never mentioned books to me.'

‘Did you ever talk to him when you were alone?'

Angela thought. ‘Not often.'

‘You were right when you said he was considerate. He always allows others to choose the topic of conversation rather than have them think he's talking down to them. Are you concerned that if Maud does reclaim Robin you might not be able to see him?' Georgiana ventured.

‘I admit I would hate being separated from Robin, especially if I felt that Maud was taking him to a worse place than this one. I'm enjoying looking after him especially now that Peter's left. Between teaching in the Lansing, running the house, and setting aside some time each day for Robin, I've barely time to worry about Peter or consider where he is and what he's doing, except just after I wake in the morning and in the few minutes before I go to sleep.'

‘It's better to be busy than sit and worry about what's happening upriver,' Georgiana agreed.

‘I'm sorry, that was selfish of me. You must be worried about Michael and David.'

‘Michael is a civilian and he has a battery of well-paid Arabs looking after him. David and I are friends. I like him, and he's fun to be with. But most people who are one-person parties are. Frankly,' she smiled, ‘David is the sort of man my mother used to warn me about. Charming, good-looking, good company, an incorrigible flirt, and a wonderful friend provided you never rely on them. They make dreadful husbands.'

‘Isn't that harsh on David?' Angela asked.

Georgiana's smile broadened. ‘David would be the first to admit it's an accurate description of him. My husband, Gwilym, was the complete antithesis to David.'

‘Charles told me he was killed on the Western Front.'

‘Gwilym was a pacifist. Like many pacifists he volunteered as a stretcher-bearer. It never occurred to either of us that he would get killed or that we would never see one another again.' She fell silent and a faraway look stole into her eyes.

‘You obviously loved him very much.'

‘I adored him, but we were from different worlds. A bit like you and Peter. It wasn't easy for Gwilym to adapt to my world of doctors and family. Especially when my father flatly refused to allow him into his house.' Georgiana switched the conversation from her to Angela. ‘But you couldn't have found it easy to marry into British military society.'

‘It was strange at first, especially when some of the officers went out of their way to belittle me simply because I was American. But most of Peter's friends were welcoming. Especially your brother Harry. Peter and I would never been able to marry when we did, or have such a marvellous honeymoon if Harry hadn't arranged leave for Peter and given us his lieutenant-colonel's bungalow. I miss him so much. He used to call into the mission without ceremony every time he was in Basra. No matter how bad the war news he always managed to cheer everyone up and reassure me that Peter was safe and would remain safe. I can't bear the thought of him lying dead in an unmarked grave, with no one to mourn him or hold a proper service.'

Georgiana was finding it increasingly difficult to keep the secret of Harry's ‘death'. ‘Harry will always live on in the hearts of those who knew him,' she said ambiguously.

‘He made friends with everyone. In that respect he was very like David.'

‘But unlike David he fell in love with one woman and managed to remain faithful to her after they married, according to what Charles and Peter have told me.'

‘I never met Furja but Harry's eyes positively glowed every time he spoke about her. She must be a very special woman. After news came of Harry's death I asked if anyone knew where she lived so I could visit her, but if she was still in Basra no one could give me her address.'

Georgiana looked down at Robin on her lap. He'd fallen asleep without her even noticing. Her coral necklace was entwined in his fingers, his feet tucked into the folds of her skirt.

‘Here, I'll take him from you and settle him down.' Angela lifted him from Georgiana's lap and laid him in the cot before tucking him in. When she'd finished she looked at the tea tray. ‘Shall I send for more tea or would you like a brandy?'

‘A brandy, please.' Georgiana stretched out in the chair and lifted her feet on to a footstool. ‘This really is pleasant. I'm never out of sight or earshot of the wards in the hospital, and on the rare occasions I make it as far as my room in the Lansing Mission I'm always on edge waiting for the telephone to ring to inform me of an emergency.'

‘You could move in here,' Angela suggested shyly.

‘No I couldn't. What if Peter returned suddenly?'

‘You could move out if his presence would make you feel uncomfortable.'

‘I don't know about uncomfortable. I'd certainly feel like a gooseberry.'

‘Peter and I are well past the honeymoon stage.'

‘Didn't look like it to me the last time I saw you together in the Basra Club.'

‘We won't be taking Baghdad in a hurry, and Peter, Charles, and Michael are sure that's the objective. We have three bedrooms, I'm in one, the nanny and Robin occupy the other, and we have one free.'

‘The thought of spending another leisurely evening like this is very tempting, especially if I could sleep over at the end of it,' Georgiana conceded.

‘Then move in. We can cheer one another up. You must be feeling as forlorn and wretched as me now most of the men have gone up-country. I'd really welcome your company.'

‘I wouldn't be here that much. I work long hours in the hospital and rarely make it back to the mission more than one or two nights a week.'

‘You might make an effort to organise more free evenings for yourself if you knew you were more or less out of reach of the hospital.'

‘I might at that.' Georgiana sipped the brandy Angela had given her.

‘I've another reason for asking. I'm fairly sure I'm pregnant and – you don't have to say yes to this – but I'd like you to take care of me, not an army doctor.'

Georgiana smiled. ‘That's wonderful news, and I'd be delighted to take care of both of you.'

‘Both of you …' Angela smiled as she repeated the words.

‘Realisation has just dawned?'

‘It has.'

‘Does Peter know he's about to become a father?'

‘No, I suspected I might be pregnant when he left but I couldn't be sure and I didn't want to give him any extra worries. I wish …'

Georgiana waited but when Angela didn't finish her sentence she did it for her. ‘He wasn't in the army and didn't have to fight a war?'

‘So many of our friends have been killed. I can't help wondering how many more will have to give their lives before it ends.'

‘It can't go on much longer.'

‘Do you really believe that?'

‘I have to, every time I think of all the friends of Harry, Michael, John, and Tom who have died here or on the Western Front. If we lose the few who are left, an entire generation will be wiped out.'