by June Tate
He looked around at the other diners; everyone looked worn out. Not surprising. The battlefront was relentless. Ground won and lost, so many deaths for so little. He knew how lucky he was to still be in one piece and alive.
As he finished his breakfast, the manager walked over to his table and handed him a key. ‘Your room is ready now, sir,’ he said.
James thanked him, gulped down the last of the coffee, picked up the key and made his way to his room on the first floor. As he took off his uniform jacket, he gazed out of the window overlooking the gardens. Here everything was green – the grass, the many shrubs and some trees – unlike the mud-laden fields he’d so recently left. He ran a bath, soaked in it until the water cooled, then dried himself and climbed into bed after closing the curtains. He lay for a second and listened. It was quiet, strange, no sound of gunfire. He shut his eyes and within minutes was asleep.
Helen and Richard pulled their coats around them as they strolled through the gardens. There was a bitter wind but the skies were clear and the air fresh. They found a bench seat beneath a cedar tree and sat, chatting. Soon they’d receive their orders and Richard was wondering where they’d be sent.
Helen snuggled closer. ‘Let’s leave the war behind whilst we’re here,’ she pleaded. ‘I’m so sick of it, I want to forget it until we leave.’
Catching hold of her hand, he apologised. ‘Sorry, darling, just thinking aloud. Perhaps on our next leave we can pull a few strings and get a few days somewhere really nice.’
They chatted about the possibility and what they’d like to do if it were possible. They walked further around the grounds until, driven by the cold, they returned to the comfort of the hotel lounge, where they both sat writing letters to their folk back home. Helen, writing to her mother, tried to shut out the fact that Richard would be writing to his wife.
James Havers eventually woke from his sleep and stretched languidly before climbing out of bed. He wandered into the bathroom, swilled his face in cold water to help him wake up, then shaved. He felt like a different man. He dressed and, leaving his room, headed to the bar, where he perched on a stool and ordered a Scotch and soda.
In the lounge, Helen had finished her letters and, seeing Richard was still writing, quietly left her seat and wandered off to the bar. She knew it was wrong of her but she was feeling peeved, knowing to whom Richard was writing. There was a lone figure sitting at the counter. He smiled at her.
‘Hello. I hate drinking alone, so can I buy you a drink?’
Helen looked at the young captain and smiled. ‘That’s a great idea. Thanks.’ She held out her hand. ‘Helen Chalmers.’
He placed his hand in hers. ‘James Havers. What are you doing here?’
‘I’m on leave, I’m one of Queen Alexandra’s nursing sisters.’
‘So what’s your poison?’ he asked.
‘A gin and tonic would go down very well at this moment.’
She studied the stranger whilst he ordered her drink. His blonde hair, worn short as was required by the military, his blue eyes, wide apart, and a full, sensuous mouth, which parted to smile at her, showing perfect white teeth. Far too good-looking for his own good, she mused, but as he chatted to her, there was no arrogance in his tone. He had a quiet but sharp sense of humour and he soon had her laughing.
Grinning at her he said, ‘You are the first woman I’ve seen in a very long time. I’ve been surrounded by men and mud for an age, I began to wonder if I was really human! There wasn’t anything to enjoy at Passchendaele.’
‘I can believe it. We dealt with so many of your casualties. I can’t begin to imagine what it must have been like.’
For a moment a frown creased his brow and his smile faded and Helen saw behind the eyes, a brief memory of a man who had been in the midst of the war. Then he smiled again. ‘Let’s not talk about the war. Where is your home in Blighty?’
‘I live in the Cotswolds in the Vale of Evesham – and you?’
‘Would you believe, Cheltenham?’ He began to laugh. ‘I have to come all this way to meet a near neighbour.’
They spent the next half an hour talking about home, the places they both knew and how wonderful it would be to get back to civilisation.
Richard entered the bar and seeing her, walked over. ‘So here you are.’
‘Richard, this is Captain James Havers, he’s also on leave. James this is Captain Richard Carson, the surgeon I work with.’
The two men shook hands.
‘He lives in Cheltenham, would you believe? Imagine that!’ she said.
With a broad grin, James looked at Richard. ‘Small world, isn’t it?’
Richard and Helen spent a relaxing day in the hotel, sitting reading, having lunch, neither wanting to do anything but recharge their batteries. They drank cocktails at the bar before dinner and went to bed early, enjoying the fact they could make love leisurely without the fear of interruption or discovery.
Helen stretched, arms above her head, and let out a deep sigh.
‘It’s easy to forget the war here,’ she said. ‘No sound of gunfire, a comfortable bed. Log fires in the lounge, a bar, food served on proper plates, not tin ones.’
Richard swung his legs over the side of the bed and lit a cigarette. ‘I can’t see it going on for much longer,’ he said. ‘The number of casualties and deaths alone weaken the forces on both sides. Something has to give.’
‘Imagine, Richard, being able to go home. To return to normality. Will you go back to the hospital in London?’
‘Yes, fortunately for me I do have a job waiting.’ He turned to her, his hand caressing her bare breast. ‘You could be my theatre sister there too, if you want. I can fix it for you.’
She frowned. ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea.’
He looked surprised. ‘Why on earth not?’
‘Because things will be different. You’ll be back with your wife, leading a normal life. It would be awkward after our relationship.’
His hand slipped to her inner thighs. ‘That doesn’t have to change,’ he said.
Helen caught hold of his hand and pushed it away. ‘I can’t believe you said that!’ She sat up, pulling the sheet around her.
‘I don’t understand,’ he exclaimed, ‘you knew I was married, I never pretended to be anything else.’
‘True. But when we do go home, I’m certainly not playing the part of your mistress, waiting for you to spare a few hours when you can. Let’s face it, it was only the war that brought us together. Had we met and worked back at home, it wouldn’t have happened – but it did. Be honest, we both knew it wasn’t going to last.’
‘God, that sounds so cold! Is that all I mean to you?’
‘No, of course not,’ she said softly. ‘If you were free, then it would be wonderful.’ She paused. ‘Let me ask you a question and I want you to promise to give me an honest answer.’
He looked at her and saw she was deadly serious. ‘I promise.’
‘Are you prepared to divorce your wife for me?’
He didn’t answer but continued to look at her.
‘There, your silence speaks volumes.’
He rose to his feet. ‘I don’t know what’s got into you tonight.’
Helen turned back the covers on her side and, getting out of bed, put on a dressing gown. ‘Let’s face it, Richard, in the hospital, surrounded by death and war, we clung together for comfort, affection, mutual respect and desire, but sometime we’ll have to face up to the future. I realised that one day you would no longer be in my life. I’d got so used to you – to us – and there is no us … only now.’
Richard dressed hurriedly. ‘I can’t cope with you in this mood; I’m going to the bar for a nightcap.’
She watched him dress and walk out of the room, then wandered over to the French windows, opened them and walked outside, lit a cigarette and gazed out over the garden now bathed in moonlight. Men! She couldn’t believe that Richard thought they could continue their relationship w
hen they returned home. What was he thinking? Of course they couldn’t! In wartime it was different. Things happened. Men and women found comfort where they could, not knowing if every day would be their last. That was acceptable in a strange way, but after … well that was a different thing entirely. You had to try to return to normality. Perhaps it was time to prepare for the future – without Richard.
Chapter Two
When Helen walked into the dining room the following morning, the waiter told her that Captain Carson had already eaten. She was somewhat relieved. After their confrontation the previous night she hadn’t been looking forward to facing him. She sat at a table set for two just as James Havers walked into the room. Seeing her sitting alone, he wandered over to her.
‘Do you mind if I join you?’
‘Not at all. Please, sit down.’
The waiter came over with two pots of coffee. They both immediately poured a cup of the steaming liquid with great haste.
James chuckled. ‘It’s easy to see just how long we’ve been without the real stuff, isn’t it?’
She smiled as she said, ‘I know. I’ve learnt to enjoy coffee even more than tea. Perhaps it’s the tin mugs that change the taste? Served in a cup, tea tastes differently.’
‘You know, my men used to chat about the things they were looking forward to when they got home. Food was one of the main things. Roast beef and Yorkshire pudding was the favourite, as I recall, and an English breakfast was a close second – or fish and chips.’
‘Mine was a hot bath with water up to the waste pipe, followed by roast pork with lots of crackling and a glass of champagne,’ Helen volunteered.
He thought for a moment. ‘Yes, I wanted a good meal and a bath, but even more I wanted to ride out among the English countryside on my beloved horse, Cleo.’
She looked amused. ‘Cleo?’
‘Short for Cleopatra because she’s a bit of a strumpet with a mind of her own.’
‘Where do you keep her?’
He reached for some toast. ‘At home. We have stables as my parents ride. I started off with a small pony when I was four. Do you ride, Helen?’
‘No, I’ve never had the opportunity.’
He beamed at her. ‘Then when we eventually return home, I’ll teach you … that’s if you want to?’
‘I’d like that, although it would have to be on a horse that was gentle, because I’m sure I’d be somewhat nervous.’
He looked steadily at her. ‘Don’t worry, I’d take care of you, make sure you came to no harm.’
She stared back at him. Although there was a strength about his bearing, there was also a gentleness in his expression, and she felt with him she would be safe should they ever keep that appointment. She became curious about the stranger.
‘Surely you must have a girlfriend waiting for you back in Cheltenham?’
‘Not much time for courting, I’m afraid. I was training for the army, taking exams, working for my commission. Besides, in wartime anything can happen, it didn’t seem right to ask anyone to wait, unless you were married, of course. What about you? After all, Helen, you are a very attractive woman. I can’t imagine you are without your admirers?’
She laughed. ‘I’ve had my moments, but that’s about it.’ She poured another coffee thinking that Richard was indeed her moment, but James didn’t need to know that.
They eventually finished their breakfast and James suggested they walk down to the village together.
‘I’ve no idea what it’s like or if there is anything standing. But looking at this building, perhaps they missed being a victim of the fighting. Want to go and find out?’
‘Why not? I’ll go and get my coat. I’ll meet you in the foyer in ten minutes.’
When she returned, James greeted her. ‘Can you ride a bike?’ he asked.
‘Yes – well, I used to. I haven’t done so in a while. Why?’
He led her outside. Leaning against the wall were two bicycles.
‘I borrowed them from the staff. Come on, let’s give it a go. It’ll save walking. Look, try it out on the drive first.’
Helen climbed on the bike and started pedalling. At first she was a bit unbalanced but was soon back in control and they set off, laughing like a couple of teenagers on an adventure.
Cycling along the country lane, they saw only a few signs of the war. Some fields had been torn up by what they imagined might have been artillery fire, and one or two houses were in ruins, but on the whole this little corner seemed to have escaped the destruction of war and soon they came to the main street where there were signs of life. Among the houses was a parade of shops that were open. They parked their bikes and wandered around.
A couple of food shops were poorly stocked, they noticed, a small cafe was open with a few elderly gentlemen inside playing cards and drinking coffee, small glasses of alcohol beside them. There was another shop selling fancy goods and Helen saw a beautiful turquoise silk scarf displayed in the window.
‘Oh, that’s just lovely!’ she exclaimed.
James took her hand. ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘Let’s go in and I’ll buy it for you.’
‘No, I’ll buy it myself,’ she argued.
He wouldn’t hear of it and insisted it was a gift from him to repay her for her company. He wouldn’t let the girl wrap it and picking it up, he put it round Helen’s neck.
‘There. It brings out the colour of your eyes,’ he said and stood back to admire her.
She put her hand to feel the softness of it and the assistant held up a mirror so she could see for herself just how it looked.
‘Thank you, James, it’s really beautiful.’
He looked pleased. ‘My pleasure entirely.’
They made their way to the coffee shop where they ordered a coffee and liqueur, sitting quietly at a corner table.
James picked up his glass. ‘Cheers, Helen. May this be the first of our many meetings.’
Picking up her glass she touched his with it. ‘Cheers.’
It was easy to forget about the war and what they’d both been through, sitting quietly in the shop with the only noises made by the chatter from the other customers. They sat talking, getting to know one another. Their conversation flowed easily as they laughed and enjoyed each other’s company, but eventually they had to return to reality.
‘Have you any idea where you are to be sent?’ James asked.
‘No, Richard and I are waiting for our orders. We should hear today as our leave is up tomorrow. How about you?’
‘I’m waiting too. I’m being seconded to another regiment but as yet I don’t know which. No doubt in some war zone or other.’
‘Surely it can’t go on for much longer,’ she said, a note of desperation in her voice. ‘The losses have been horrendous – and the casualties.’
He saw the sadness in her eyes. ‘Yes, you’ve seen as much death as I have. We just have to do our best until the end and then try and put it to the back of our minds when it’s over.’
Thinking of her patients, Helen said, ‘I don’t have to tell you, that’s not going to be easy, and for some, they’ll live with the aftermath all their lives.’
He reached for her hand. ‘We have to be strong for those who can’t be. We are both in a position where we have no choice.’ He ordered another liqueur. ‘Let’s drink to the day when we can go home and I take you riding.’
Shortly after, they climbed on the borrowed bikes and rode back to the hotel. They parked them against the hotel wall and entered the foyer. Richard was there, waiting.
‘Where on earth have you been?’ he demanded. ‘I’ve been looking everywhere for you.’
‘Morning!’ James greeted him.
Richard ignored him. ‘Our orders have come through. A car is coming for us in an hour’s time to take us to the General Hospital number 10 at Rouen. At least we’ll have a proper hospital to work in with better facilities – at last! You’d better get your stuff together, we’ve a long drive ahead of us.’ H
e nodded to James and walked to the reception desk.
James smiled wryly. ‘Not exactly a bundle of laughs, is he? Go and pack and I’ll wait here and see you on your way.’
It was with great sadness that Helen changed back into her uniform and packed her case. It had been a wonderful few days and she knew it would be some time before she’d enjoy such luxury again. She’d be sorry to say goodbye to James, he’d been so much fun, and she did hope that she’d see him again back in her beloved Cotswolds. Taking one last look around the room, she picked up her case and made her way to reception.
James came over immediately. ‘As soon as I know where I’m to be posted, I’ll write to you. I’d like to keep in touch, if that’s alright?’
‘Yes, of course it’s alright but I don’t know the address,’ she protested.
‘Your boss said it was the General Hospital number 10 in Rouen. I’ll find out.’ He smiled at her. ‘I must say you look very efficient in your uniform, Sister!’
‘You make sure you keep your head down wherever you’re sent. I don’t want to find you being carried into the hospital on a stretcher.’
Before he could answer, Richard arrived. ‘The car is here,’ he said. ‘We must be on our way.’ Turning to James he said, ‘Good luck,’ and walked outside.
James carried Helen’s case for her and handed it to the driver, then he held her gently by the shoulders. ‘You keep out of trouble, because I’m determined to see you again.’ He pulled her nearer and kissed her. It was much more than a kiss from an acquaintance, it was more a kiss with a promise – and when he released her, he stared into her eyes and said softly, ‘Keep safe.’
‘You too,’ she answered, feeling unexpectedly emotional, then she climbed into the car. As it drove away, she waved to the solitary figure standing on the steps of the hotel.
