Forget-Me-Nots in September

by Clare Revell

  He scanned his timeline and his heart caught as he read Jude’s status. Repatriation at BN. Silence at first, then applause which grew in strength. Sad yet respect. RIP the three who died. And prayers for those injured and left behind. He closed his eyes. She’d gone. Did she go to all of them, or had she made a special trip this time? It seemed fitting. He’d seen them off, and she’d greeted them on his behalf.

  The page refreshed and a new status appeared with a photograph of a young man in RAF uniform. Six months and that’s suspended for two years! How is that justice for Jayden?

  Bev hesitated for a moment, then hovered his mouse over her name and brought up the message box. Hey, it’s Bev. Are you OK?

  There was a pause for a moment. Then he got a reply. He ignored the way his heart skipped a beat as he read the first real time conversation he’d had with her.

  I’ve been better. Hello by the way. How are you?

  Doing OK. He replied. What’s wrong? I saw your status. Who’s Jayden?

  My twin brother. He was in the RAF. He got me into sending parcels in the first place. There was a long pause before she continued. He was killed on leave about a year ago by a driver who was texting at the wheel. The sentencing was today. Bloke got a six month suspended sentence and a driving ban. Jayden survived the front lines, and he died half a mile from home because someone decided to send a text while driving.

  Bev’s heart broke afresh. I’m so sorry, Jude. That’s nowhere near long enough. He closed his eyes. Nothing he could say would be good enough to comfort her. Just like nothing he could say or do could heal the hole in his unit right now. He looked back at the screen.

  I know I have to forgive him. It’s what Jesus wants—forgive our enemies and pray for those who persecute us, but it’s a hard task at times.

  Bev typed back. I know. I’m struggling with that one myself right now. We just have to pray that God will give us the strength to obey Him when things are impossible as well as easy. He glanced at his watch. I have to go. Sorry, but I’m late for PT.

  We can’t have that. The troops might revolt. Thanks for saying hi.

  You’re welcome. It was nice to chat. Bye. He logged off and ran down to join his unit outside in the growing light.

  “And here he is,” Steve intoned. “Better late than never, but owing us twenty sit-ups and fifty press-ups anyway. Did you oversleep?”

  Bev raised an eyebrow. “Did I oversleep what, Sergeant?”

  “Did you oversleep, Boss?” Steve didn’t miss a beat. “Just drop and do them.”

  “I’ll have you know I’ve been up since o-dark-thirty while you were still snoring.” Bev dropped to the ground, doing the punishment he’d have dished out to anyone else who was late.

  “I don’t snore,” Steve objected.

  “Really? I beg to differ. All those who say he does…”

  Every single hand shot up before he’d finished his sentence.

  Bev laughed as he finished the sit-ups. “I rest my case.” He rolled over, and began doing the press-ups one handed to prove a point, the other hand curled behind his back. Once done, he leapt to his feet. “OK, packs on. Six miles around the track. Last one back makes breakfast.”

  “They’ll miss you when you leave in a week,” Brigadier Hereford-Jones said as the men ran off.

  “It’s R and R. I’ll be back. I’m sure Steve will keep them busy enough.”

  “Got any plans?”

  “I’m staying with Gran. Also planning on catching the first few games of the season.”

  “Sounds fun.”

  “Yeah, for the most part. Save the mail for me. I don’t trust this lot with my parcels. Toothpaste keeps going missing.”

  The brigadiers face creased into a frown. “What in the world is that?”

  Bev followed the pointed cane and groaned. “That is Elf. The unofficial mascot of the unit. Only he isn’t meant to be tied to the flag pole.”

  “Cute,” Hereford-Jones said. “You’d better find out who did it and deal with them.”

  “Oh, I will.” Bev jogged over to the flagpole and retrieved Elf. Then, he jumped into a jeep and headed after the unit. He caught them up as they ran, bunched together. “Is this as far as you got, ladies? Speed up or it’ll be eight miles. And who was the joker who attached Elf to the flag pole?”

  The men laughed. “He’s guarding it.”

  “Very funny. The brigadier thought so too.”

  “I did.”

  Bev drew level with Wallis and stared at him. “Why?”

  “Just did,” the kid replied evasively.

  Bev narrowed his eyes. The kid was the newest member of the unit, drafted in to replace Smudge. Bev could guess what was going on. “Right. The lot of you. If you’re not back in half an hour, there’s trouble. And Wallis, my office, after breakfast.”

  He had no intention of disciplining the kid, but it wouldn’t hurt the others to think he was. Or for the kid to sweat it a little.

  ~*~

  Jude pushed her trolley along the aisles of the supermarket. She hadn’t heard from Bev for over a week and was trying not to worry. He was probably busy, or bored of letter writing or something. It was September, and she imagined the novelty of a “pen pal” had probably worn off by now.

  Hers was about the only shop that still closed at lunchtime on a Wednesday. But, she argued, she needed the time off and her takings didn’t seem to suffer for it. They were pretty dismal anyway, and she didn’t see how staying open another four hours a week would make any difference in the long run.

  Jude approached Mrs. Bowen, her landlady, who had paused beside the apples.

  “Hello, Mrs. Bowen.”

  The older woman turned and smiled. “Hello, dear. How are you?”

  “I’m OK. You?”

  Mrs. Bowen nodded. “Yes, I’m fine. I have my grandson staying for a few weeks. So I’m filling the cupboards. Can’t have him starving. His mother would never allow him to stay again.”

  “They only had lemons, Gran,” a voice came from behind her.

  Mrs. Bowen smiled. “Bev, meet Jude, my tenant. She rents the house across the road.”

  Jude turned, taking in the tall, tanned bloke behind her. She recognized him instantly from the photos, but wasn’t prepared for the heart fluttering, instant attraction.

  And from the look on his face, Bev felt exactly the same way. He recovered first and gripped her hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Jude.”

  “Do you two know each other?”

  Daren grinned. “Jude is my adopter, this tour. She’s the lady who sent me Elf.”

  “Is he really the unit mascot?” Jude finally managed to speak.

  “Oh, yes. And he’s very good at getting into trouble and ending up in places he shouldn’t be.”

  “Well, I must get on, but I’ll let you two catch up, I have a standing appointment every Wednesday with my hairdresser.” Mrs. Bowen said. “I’ll see you back at the house, Bev. Did you bring your key?”

  Bev nodded. “What? Oh, key, yes.” He didn’t take his gaze off Jude as he kissed his grandmother’s cheek. “Bye, Gran.” He walked beside her for a moment. “Jude, would you like some help with your shopping?”

  3

  Bev took the trolley from her. “So what’s next on your list?”

  “Umm…” Jude looked flummoxed for a moment, before she consulted the list in her hand. “Meat.” She walked beside him as he headed towards the meat section. “Do you live here?”

  He shook his head. “Not exactly. I live on the base just outside of town, or I spend my leave with my parents in Cambridge, but they’re away, so I’m spending my leave with Gran instead. I did have an ulterior motive, but don’t tell her.”

  She checked the date on the chicken before placing it in the trolley. “What’s that?”

  “I knew you lived opposite her and hoped I could engineer a meeting before I went back. I did think it was a marvelous coincidence you lived on the same street she did. However,
the supermarket wasn’t on my list of venues to bump into you.”

  “Really?” She looked up from the package in her hand.

  He nodded. “There are no regs against this. I checked and I didn’t…” He paused, his cheeks burning. “This sounds terrible, but I’ve done the parcel thing three times now and the letters never grabbed my attention and appealed to me the way that yours do. You chat. I even told my CO the parcel sending service isn’t a dating agency. He was afraid his wife wouldn’t like it. And yet, here I am, actively seeking you out and—”

  “We’re not dating. We’re shopping.” Jude dropped the package into the trolley.

  He didn’t move. “But I’d like to. Date, that is, not shop. Not that I have anything against shopping.”

  A half smile curved her lips. “I’m glad to hear it.”

  “Oh, look at me.” The burning in his cheeks increased and he was sure he was blushing to his hair roots now; not very manly by any stretch of the imagination. “I have twenty men under my command, and I’m babbling like a fool. What I’m trying to say is I have three weeks leave coming up. And I’d like to get to know you better.”

  Now Jude blushed and Bev couldn’t help grinning. His stomach flipped as he realized he’d caused that reaction in her.

  “Only if you want to see me, that is,” he said quickly. “I mean, writing to me is one thing. Seeing me in the flesh, so to speak, is another thing entirely.”

  “I’d like that…ummm, that is…”

  He swallowed, not having intended to embarrass her. “Clothed, I hasten to add. Because the church would disapprove of anything else; even more so than belly dancing in the aisles.”

  “Good…” She started walking again. “Did I tell you that you’re the first squaddie to reply to anything I’ve sent? Apart from Jayden, but he kinda had to write to me.”

  That just seemed downright rude to him, but he wouldn’t say as much. “True. Did he serve abroad much?”

  “He served all over the place. Cypress, Falklands, Afghan, Sierra Leone, Germany. He loved it.”

  “Was he a pilot?”

  Jude shook her head. “Computer geek. He said if I knew what he did, he’d have to shoot me. So I didn’t ask. He loved his job.” She bit her lip. “He was on leave from Afghan when he was killed.”

  Bev gripped her hand briefly. “I’m really sorry. I know how hard it is to lose someone.” As she struggled for control, he almost gave in to the temptation to hold her, but at the last moment decided against it. “So, what’s next on your list?”

  Jude rubbed her sleeve over her eyes. “Flour, sugar, and eggs. Oh, and marg. Then we’re done.”

  “Sounds like you’re making what Mum calls a scratch cake.”

  “What’s one of those?”

  “Cake made from scratch.”

  “How else would I make a cake?” she asked, putting what she needed into the trolley.

  Bev picked up a box of cake mix. “With one of these.”

  She shook her head, a glimmer of a smile on her face. “That is cheating. So, not going to happen in my kitchen.”

  “I’d have thought making cakes was a busman’s holiday for someone who works in a bakery. Maybe you should buy ready-made ones instead. You probably can’t taste the difference.” He chuckled at the look of horror on her face. “OK, maybe you can.”

  “Hmmm.” She took the packet from his hands and threw it into the trolley. “That sounds like a challenge I can’t resist. How about a taste test tomorrow evening? This red velvet cake against one I make from scratch. See if you can tell the difference.”

  He grinned. “You’re on. I love cake.” They moved to stand in the queue for the checkout. “Do you ever get any time off, running your own business?”

  “Wednesday afternoons,” she said, trying not to smirk and failing. “It’s half day closing. Otherwise, other than a Sunday, I’m there from around six in the morning to seven at night. Shop shuts at five, but there’s cleaning and stuff to do in the evenings. Along with prep for the following day.”

  “And if you didn’t?” he asked, packing her shopping into her jute bags.

  “Then I’d start at three and not six.”

  “That doesn’t leave much time for a social life.”

  “So Milly keeps telling me.” She paid for the shopping. “How did you get here? I mean, did you drive?”

  He shook his head. “Gran drove. She said I can borrow her car if I want to go anywhere, but I guess I’m walking home.”

  “I can take you. I’m in car park D.”

  Bev nodded, not wanting to say goodbye just yet. “Thank you. What are your plans for the rest of the day?”

  “Other than putting this lot away and making two cakes? Not much.”

  In for a penny… “Then may I be so bold as to ask you to accompany me this evening? We could go and see a film and maybe have a bite to eat somewhere afterwards.”

  “Your gran won’t mind?”

  “Why would she?” He tilted his head. “Does she hate you?”

  Jude giggled. “No, she’s a sweet lady, and besides, she’d hardly rent me her house if she hated me. She wouldn’t say boo to a goose.” She glanced over her shoulder as they reached the car.

  “That’s my job,” Bev told her. He glanced around. What was she looking for? There was no one in sight. Aside from a bloke loading shopping into the back of his car across the way.

  “True.” She shut the boot.

  “So, fancy a film? I have no idea what’s on.”

  She glanced around again, shuddering as she got into the car. “Nor me, but it sounds good. I haven’t been in like forever.”

  Bev frowned as he shut the door. He glanced in the direction she was looking, then shook it off and got in the passenger side. “Why not?”

  She looked confused. “Why not what?”

  “Go on your own,” he explained. “I’m single, well, free, as some of the lads put it, but if I had that attitude I’d sit at home all day long bored out of my mind.”

  “It’s safer,” she muttered. “Anyway, you’re not me.” She started the car and tugged her jumper down. “And I need to get this lot home.”

  Bev nodded, taking that as she didn’t want to talk any more on that subject. “I’ll pick you up at six if you still want to come.”

  Jude nodded. “Yeah, I do. I’d like that.”

  ~*~

  At five fifty-five, Jude still wasn’t ready. She had no idea what to wear. Nothing fitted, or the outfit made her look fatter than normal, or the clothes just plain looked sprayed on. She grew hotter and more and more uncomfortable in her skin. This was a bad idea. Maybe she should call and cancel. Only that was the coward’s way out and she was no cow—

  Her gaze caught sight of a skirt hanging right at the back of the wardrobe. It was mid-calf length, black with pale blue forget-me-nots covering it. She hadn’t worn it in forever, and it probably no longer fitted, but it was one of her favorite skirts. Partnered with a plain pale blue silk blouse, she’d always felt like a million dollars when wearing it. She shook her head. Another silly expression, like the sixty-four thousand dollar question that made no sense, as the currency in the UK was pounds not dollars. She pulled the skirt out and ran her fingers over the fabric. No harm in trying, right?

  Slipping into it, she fastened the zip and turned back and forwards in the mirror. She took an experimental deep breath, but the skirt stayed up. It still fitted perfectly. The doorbell rang. Too late to change now. She ran down the stairs and tugged open the front door.

  Bev stood there. His beige slacks and black polo shirt showed off his form to perfection. “Wow.”

  “Hello to you, too. Wow, what?”

  “You look amazing.” Bev didn’t look away.

  “Really?”

  He nodded. “Yes, really. Are you ready to go?”

  Jude grabbed her jacket and bag. “Want me to drive?”

  Bev waved a set of keys at her. “Gran said I could borrow her car.�
� He led her over to it.

  She had to stifle a smile as she saw the battered yellow mini; only just not giving in to the temptation to play the game she and Jayden had done every car journey for years.

  “What?” Bev asked, looking and sounding baffled.

  “Nothing.” She grinned. She climbed in and stifled a chuckle as he somehow managed to fit his big frame into the other side of the tiny car.

  “Stop smirking.”

  “Sorry.” She paused, and then they both laughed together.

  “I know, I know. Big man, little car, but I couldn’t refuse her offer, could I?”

  “Not really. But I’m not just laughing at you, honest. I was so tempted to do this.” She elbowed him. “Yellow car, no returns.”

  “Only it’s a mini. So you’d have to thump me.” His grin widened.

  Jude nodded. “But I’d never do that. Well, only to my brother.” She did up her seatbelt as Bev started the car. “Where are we going?”

  “I figured we’d start at the Showcase as it is only a five minute drive from here. It also has ten screens, so we should be able to find something we both want to watch.” He pulled off the drive. “You’re not one of those women who insists on paying for themselves, are you?”

  She settled back into the seat, straightening the belt across her waist. “No, but I like to treat occasionally.”

  “Fair enough, but tonight is on me.”

  They found a parking space and got tickets fairly quickly, both finding they wanted to see the same film. Bev bought sweets and set them into the cup holder between the two seats. He smiled. “I’m not planning on eating them all myself. Have to save some room for dinner later.”

  She looked at the packet. “I won’t make you give them to me with a straw either.”

  He chuckled. “You watch too much TV.”

  “It’s the adverts that cause the problems. There’s so many of them, by the time they’re over I can’t remember what I’m watching TV for in the first place.” Jude settled back to watch the film.

  Part way through, Bev’s arm came around behind her, fingers resting lightly on her shoulder. His touch was strange, alien, but not unpleasant, yet she automatically stiffened.