The Last Embrace (28 page)

“I have to leave. My uncle is seriously ill. Teddy just brought the news.”

“I'm going with her,” Teddy said, as though it was already settled.

I started to protest, then decided against it. Instead, I turned toward Claire. “I know you'll say I'm not well enough to travel.” She was staring at me oddly. “What are you doing here anyway?” In all of the commotion about Uncle Meyer, I'd nearly forgotten that Claire was supposed be off serving somewhere. No, she was not staring at me, but past me at Teddy so sadly, as if asking for his forgiveness. “Tell me,” I demanded.

“It's Charlie.” My stomach dropped as I waited for further confirmation that he had died, or worse yet, details about how. I thought after the last time that my heart could never break again, that nothing could ever hurt like that because the pieces would never heal. But the scream rose up from deep within me, ready to be let free.

She didn't say anything more until she reached my side. “They found him. Addie, Charlie is alive.”

The car Claire had arranged raced in the darkness along a winding country road flanked by high hedges. “Brought into a field hospital in Dover,” Claire had explained back at the cottage, though I was scarcely able to hear her. “Apparently he's been there for weeks.” So he had been close by all this time. How had I not known? And why hadn't he sent for me?

I sat now beside her in silence, my plan to rush home to America to be with Aunt Bess slipped by the wayside. Teddy sat in the front seat beside the driver, staring straight ahead and not speaking. It could be a mistake. Another soldier, not Charlie. For so long I'd conditioned myself to the pain, I was immune, it now seemed, from hope. I grimaced at my reflection, pale and disheveled, in the car window. I should have made myself look better for Charlie. But I could not wait any longer to see him, to start the life we had wanted for so long. He would still want me, of course, as he had the day he shipped out. Or would he? After all, he had left London thinking I'd stood him up at the chapel. Maybe that was why he had not let me know he was safe. How I regretted all the times I had pushed him away for reasons that seemed so important—reasons I could not even remember now. Whatever time we might have was fleeting. I would be his and we would run with this.

“How did you find him?” Teddy asked.

“I heard a story on base about a pilot who had crashed in Germany, just over the Swiss border. He was able to make it across on foot, despite a slight leg fracture. Quite remarkable, really.”

“Are you sure it's really him? It could be another pilot.” There was an unmistakable note of hope in Teddy's voice.

“I put two and two together and checked. It is definitely him.”

We soon reached a military base reminiscent of Portsmouth with the same barbed wire-capped fence and sense of non-stop activity. At the gate, the car stopped and driver rolled down the window. Claire reached over to show her pass. We drove on past large tents and makeshift barracks, stopping in front of a two-story redbrick building with hospital markings. I started out of the car, but she stopped me, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Addie, wait. There's something you should know. Charlie took a terrible blow to the head and he has trouble remembering.” So that was why he had not sent for me the second he returned. It seemed inconceivable, though, that he would not know me at all. “You must prepare yourself.”

“It won't matter,” I insisted. Once he saw me, everything would be fine. I was sure of it.

Claire led me and Teddy into the hospital and we followed her in the direction an orderly pointed in response to her query about Charlie. There was just one door at the end of the hall. I pushed past Claire, running now. My footsteps pounded against the tile, echoing against the walls.

Not pausing, I burst through the door. At the sight of Charlie lying in bed, my heart stopped. It was really him. His face was marred with cuts and bruises that had begun to heal in the weeks since he crashed. But underneath his eyes were clear, his face the same one that I had known for so long and loved with every breath—and that I had thought I would never see again. He was pale and shaken but still whole. Alive. Even here in this darkest of places, stripped of all glory, he was magnificent, all I ever wanted. My heart soared.

“Charlie?” I took a step toward him, arms outstretched. But his face was blank. A pain shot through me sharper than the night I thought him dead, or the night we lost Robbie, worse than anything I'd ever felt. Charlie did not know me. His eyes were cloudy and he blinked as though just waking up.

I licked my lips, and tried again. “It's me, Addie.” He did not respond, but smiled as one might to a stranger, his expression vague and pleasant. My heart sank. “We know each other from back home in America. We're neighbors at the shore and we went to the same high school and then when we met in London...” I faltered. It was so strange to be telling him the history between us, to have to remind him of what we once had.

I reached for his hand. “Charlie, please.” Something inside him seemed to shift slightly. His eyes flickered, great thunderclouds rolling over him as he struggled to remember who he was and all that had happened. But he gulped for air, swallowed. “Addie?”

Joy rose within me. “It's me.”

“You're real.” He leaned his head back, overwhelmed by the strain. “All this time I thought I dreamed you.” His hand pulled from mine.

“I'm really here.” I fought the urge to throw myself into Charlie's arms, lest I injure him. Instead I put my hand on his chest, feeling as it rose and fell. He winced and I pulled back. Was he in pain? “Charlie, thank goodness you're all right. They said you were missing and presumed dead.” Outside the door to his hospital room, I saw Claire and Teddy watching us.

“They thought that because my plane crashed and I wasn't found.” A look of terror came over his face as he remembered for the first time, reliving what had happened. “But I was able to make it away from the crash site and over the border. It was all part of the plan, Addie.”

“Plan? You mean you crashed on purpose?'

“Sort of. Another plane was dropping special operations troops at a site in Slovakia to rendezvous with the partisans. I was supposed to set it down hard to distract the Germans from where they had gone and then flee on foot. But I landed a bit harder than expected—crashed, really—and I was off target.”

“That was a suicide mission.” Perhaps because he felt he no longer had that much to lose.

“It worked.”

“That was a very brave thing you did. Brave and stupid.”

“I could say the same about you.” He was talking, of course, about my foray across the Channel to help the orphans. But how could he possibly know? He held up a newspaper by his bedside. I took it from him, surprised to see my own image staring back. It was a story Teddy had run in the
Post
about my work with the orphans, my efforts to help them. I hadn't wanted him to write it, but he said raising awareness would help more children just like them. The
Times
must have picked it up on the wire. “I didn't realize at the time that it was you.” His eyes filled with admiration, then clouded again. “You could have been killed.”

“Yes, well, we're both fine now.” I held my hand out to him, willing him to take it. But he did not. It was as if there was an invisible wall between us. Something flickered across his face. Why was he hesitating? Behind me came a shuffling sound. I turned to see a nurse standing behind me, tall and thin with pale blond hair wisping out from beneath a white cap, coming in to fix his blankets. I stepped back, the delay in our reunion unbearable as she tended to him. I expected the nurse to leave, but when she was finished, she lingered, fingers resting lightly on Charlie's shoulder. I exhaled silently, waiting for her to do something else to examine or help him, something to justify her presence—and that touch.

“He hit his head badly when the plane crashed,” the nurse explained. “His memory loss was severe, but it's been coming back a bit at a time.”

Charlie looked up at the nurse. “I remember a lot more now.”

“How wonderful.” Her voice was flat. I waited for her to run to fetch a doctor and share the news. But she remained planted at Charlie's side.

“They airlifted me here. I couldn't remember anything, but Grace nursed me back to health.” The way he said the nurse's name made my heart twinge. He looked up at her and grimaced at the pain the movement caused.

Grace. The name ricocheted around my head as she hurried to adjust his pillows. “Is that better, darling?” she asked, the last word exploding in my ears.
Darling.
I knew then why he had pulled back from my touch.

“Yes, thank you. Addie is an old friend from home,” he said. I cringed at the description, so reminiscent of the time at Southern when he'd described me as being like family. How had we gotten back there? Perhaps part of his memory was still missing and he did not remember all that we had been to one another. “Addie, I'd like you to meet Grace.” He reached up and took her hand.

My ears rang. So they were together. It must have been some kind of passing infatuation while she nursed him back to health while his memory was gone—something that could be easily undone now that I had found him.

“Lovely to meet you,” Grace said. Her English accent was posh, bespeaking years of governesses and boarding school. I could not answer over the dryness in my throat. “I haven't had the chance to meet any of Charlie's friends since he proposed.”

My heart stopped. “You're engaged?”

Grace smiled. “Only just.” My mind whirled. Charlie was mine, just months ago, before he left London. What happened to forever?

Of course he had not known that. He had lost his memory and been caught in a fog where the past and all we had shared together did not exist. But he remembered now, didn't he? I waited for him to tell her that it had all been a terrible mistake.

Silence filled the room. “I'll give the two of you a few minutes to catch up,” Grace said, patting his shoulder before walking from the room.

Charlie stared at me uneasily. He understood all that had been between us, and he knew what this meant to me. “I should be going,” I said. But my legs were leaden.

“When I crashed, I lost my memory. Grace cared for me and, well, she's a good woman.” It would be too easy to dismiss Grace as the one who had been there by his side when it all happened, a product of timing. But the way he looked at her told me it was something more.

I was angry at him suddenly, not just for Grace, but all of it. “So was this some kind of a payback?”

“No, it was nothing like that. Addie, you didn't show up at the chapel. What was I to think?”

“I was caught on the underground on a stuck train. When I got there you were gone.” Great waves of regret rose up, crashing down upon me. “So that's it, then.” He did not answer. We'd had a second chance and thrown it away. There would not, it seemed, be a third. I saw it then, the life we might have had together. It was so real that if I reached out I might have touched it. But it would never be, like a land too far to reach, or a place we had missed along the way.

Charlie reached into the drawer of the nightstand beside his hospital bed. He pulled something out and extended his hand to me. The mizpah. I had nearly forgotten. Somehow through everything, he had managed to hold on to it. “You keep it,” I said. He shook his head. It wasn't his to have anymore. In that one gesture I knew that he was setting me free and that it was over between us forever. I took it and started for the door.

“Wait, don't go.”

“What? You don't want me for yours anymore but you don't want to let me leave. You can't have it both ways.” He bit his lip, unable to disagree.

He turned away, his face haggard and inconsolable. He would leave Grace if I asked him to. If I reached out and took Charlie's hand, he would be mine again. In fact, there was a desperate, pleading look in his eyes that said that was exactly what he wanted me to do. It could all be mine, and the old Addie who had wanted nothing but him would have taken it. I wasn't that girl anymore, though, and it would make him somehow less the man that I loved. From the doorway, I caught a glimpse of Grace, holding her breath, her eyes pained and fearful.

I stepped back from Charlie, an inch and a lifetime, an ocean rising and filling between us.

Teddy came into the room. I looked over my shoulder, hoping that Claire would come in and not leave me alone with the two men. But she had disappeared from the corridor. “Good to see that you're all right,” Teddy said, walking to Charlie and shaking his hand. I imagined what a blow it must have been for him, hearing the news that Charlie was alive and knowing it could not help but destroy any chance that something might develop between us. Teddy smiled, but beneath the mask, he was crumbling, certain that with Charlie now back, he had lost me. Then he turned to me. “Adelia, I've checked and there is a liner that sails from Plymouth tomorrow.”

“A ship?” Charlie asked.

“Yes, my uncle's taken ill and I have to get back to Philadelphia.” Charlie's face fell. He did not want me to leave.

Then something behind his eyes shifted and his shoulders went slack. “He's a good man, Addie,” he whispered, nodding toward Teddy, who stood close to the door, as if I needed his permission. Letting me go. “Safe travels. And give my love to everyone at home,” he added, as though nothing had changed and his family might still be there waiting.

“Goodbye, Charlie,” I said. I kissed his cheek, savoring the smell of his skin for the last time.

“I've arranged for the car to take us back to Claire's to get my car and then we can go to London for our things. Are you ready to go?” There was a note of ownership in Teddy's voice as some part of him still hoped I might be his. I felt that pull again, being tugged between the two men and I knew if it went on any longer I would be ripped to bits until there was simply nothing left of me.