The Soldier's Return

by Rose Meddon

  ‘How long before you find out what’s to happen?’ she asked.

  Across from her, Naomi shrugged her shoulders. ‘I haven’t the faintest idea. I can’t continually press him for information. He has already asked me to stop nannying him, so I have to tread carefully – not let it seem as though I’m prying. All he will say is that he should hear something “any day now”.’

  Able to understand Naomi’s difficulty, she gave a short sigh. ‘You must be on tenterhooks all over again.’

  ‘I am. But only another woman could appreciate that.’

  ‘It would seem so.’

  ‘But what about you? How are you feeling today?’ Naomi asked.

  ‘I—’

  ‘Only, I notice you’re wearing your mourning again.’

  Slowly, she nodded. ‘Yes. Though it felt all right to be out of it for Mr Lawrence’s party, more generally it felt too soon.’

  ‘Well, only you can know what feels right.’

  To her relief, with Naomi then muttering something about needing to go in and check that Esme wasn’t getting up to mischief, and taking her leave, Kate spotted her opportunity to go and see Ned. Indeed, when she followed the path around the side of the house to where the French doors from the study gave onto the terrace, she found him in his wheelchair, a book open upon his lap but his attention directed out across the lawn.

  ‘Pied wagtails,’ he said as she drew near.

  When he nodded in the general direction of them, she turned to look. Bobbing about at the edge of the lawn were two slender birds with long tails, their light plumage striped with grey and black. ‘I didn’t know you could identify birds,’ she said, turning back to look at him.

  ‘For want of anything better to do, I’ve been reading Rowley’s field guide.’

  She smiled; here was her chance. ‘Where is Rowley? I haven’t seen him about this morning.’

  ‘Shot off to see about his next posting.’

  Well, it was a start. But, clearly, to find out what she wanted to know, she was going to have to be more devious. ‘Oh. So he knows where he’s being sent?’

  ‘They’ve given him two options. But he’s not keen on one of them and the other is something of an unknown. So he’s gone to try and find out more about it.’

  Now she needed to keep up the pretence. ‘Does either of them involve flying?’

  He shook his head. ‘Sadly, no.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘As it stands, neither of us will be back in the air.’

  Inevitably, her eyes fell upon his wheelchair. ‘And how are you doing?’ In a way, it was an insensitive thing to ask: it was quite plain how he was. But he would surely know that she meant it kindly.

  ‘Struggling to accept that, despite Nurse Hammond’s valiant efforts, I shan’t ever walk again.’

  Without thinking about what she was doing, she reached for one of his hands. It felt surprisingly cool. ‘You can’t be certain of that.’

  Slowly, he turned to look directly at her. His poor body might be horribly damaged, but his eyes were as warm as ever. ‘Kate, while I applaud your optimism, I do know it. If my legs were ever going to heal, they would have done so by now. The last doctor who came said that in all probability, my shin bones haven’t knitted back together as had been hoped. Apparently, with the degree of damage they suffered, the odds were against me anyway. It was always a long shot – though only now has someone thought to tell me that. Apparently, the best I can hope for is that I am able to build up the muscles in my shoulders and arms such that I will be able to haul myself around on crutches. But where’s the point in that? If I’m not going to be able to walk without aid, then I might as well stay in this chair.’

  All too sadly, she could see his point. ‘So…’

  ‘So, any day now, I’m expecting to have to undergo yet another examination and assessment, after which I’m certain the RAF will have no alternative but to pension me off.’

  Put like that, it sounded so final. But then it was final. Without the use of his legs, what good was he to the Royal Air Force?

  Carefully, so as not to draw attention to what she was doing, she relinquished her hold on his hand. Then, even more slowly, she took a couple of steps away from him. ‘I see.’

  His belief about what would happen to him raised so many questions – like where would he live, and how would he manage? Presumably, arrangements would be made for him back at Clarence Square.

  ‘You know, Kate, earlier, when I was sitting here, I had a vision of that party Mamma held. Must be four years ago now. Do you remember it?’

  Remember it? It was an event she would never forget. She could picture it as though it was yesterday – but there was no need for him to know that. ‘I do, yes.’

  ‘She had entertainers. Oh, and a fortune teller.’

  ‘I think she called herself a mystic – no, a prophetess.’

  ‘That’s right! She did. Madame Something-or-other—’

  ‘Madame Sybil.’

  ‘—and I got you in to see her.’

  Surprised not to be blushing, she smiled. ‘You did, yes.’

  ‘Say, has anything she told you that night come true? Or definitely not come true?’

  ‘If memory serves,’ she said, no intention of disclosing anything from that particular encounter, ‘the things she foretold were so vague they could have been taken to mean almost anything.’

  ‘And therein lay her skill.’

  ‘Yes,’ she agreed. Then, changing the subject, went on, ‘Well, I suppose you must be looking forward to having Rowley back – for some company, I mean.’ It was a remark she hoped would lead him to divulging something of his friend’s movements.

  ‘He hopes to be back late this evening.’

  ‘Good. Well, I suppose I’d best get on – go and lend a hand with luncheon.’

  ‘All right,’ he said, directing his eyes back out across the lawn.

  ‘But I might see you later.’

  ‘I shall be here.’

  Once she had rounded the corner of the house and was certain that she was out of his sight, she paused. It was a long time since she had thought about the night of Pamela Russell’s party. In those four short years, life had changed for all of them. And, from what she could tell, more change was yet to come. Especially, it seemed, for her.

  Heaving a long sigh, and with a light shake of her head, she continued on her way. Rowley was due back tonight. Therefore, tomorrow, she must make a point of talking to him – if only to bring an end to her state of indecision. And, presumably, even though he’d said he wouldn’t press for an answer, he would need some sort of indication from her before he had to leave to take up his new post. And so, for both of their sakes, she had better get on and make up her mind.

  * * *

  ‘I hope it was all right of me to tell you that.’

  ‘Yes, of course it was.’

  ‘Only, I thought you would want to know what I’ve decided to do – you know, on the basis that it might help you to reach your own decision.’

  It was late that evening and Kate had been in the dining room, putting away the silverware, when Rowley had come through the door. Explaining that he had just arrived back from his trip, he had asked if she would accompany him on a stroll around the gardens. Initially hesitant – in particular because dusk was falling – she was glad now that she had agreed, because he had just been explaining how he had been to Gloucestershire to see for himself the RAF’s new intelligence unit.

  ‘It might help, yes,’ she replied now to his observation. And it was true: deep down, it was a help to know where he had decided upon, possibly even helping her to narrow down the steadily lengthening list of questions she had for him.

  ‘I wasn’t sure whether or not to tell you,’ he went on, his tone betraying a degree of wariness. ‘You know, given that I had promised not to pester you for an answer. But I didn’t think telling you of my decision would qualify as pestering. I say, it doesn’t does it?’r />
  Unable to help smiling, she shook her head. ‘No, I don’t see it as pestering.’

  ‘Good. Because I’m still happy to wait for you to decide in your own time.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Though I do hope that doesn’t mean I must entirely ignore you while you do.’

  ‘It doesn’t.’

  ‘Only, naturally, I’m inclined to try to support my proposal – you know, make sure that you view it in the best possible light. Well, I should be a fool not to. Only an idiot would sit back and take his chance at the hands of fate.’

  Glancing about to see where they had reached, she drew to a halt and turned to face him. If the speed with which he had been talking was anything to go by, he was as apprehensive about all of this as she was.

  In the hope of calming her own nerves, she paused to think for a moment. Then, she said, ‘I have been thinking about what you asked me.’ In that moment, she felt certain that he tensed. ‘Been thinking about it real careful and—’

  ‘Oh, God, you’re going to turn me down.’

  The desperation on his face brought a huge smile to her own. ‘No,’ she said with a shake of her head. ‘No, I’ve not yet decided it—’

  ‘Thank heavens for that!’

  ‘—because there are things I should like to ask you – things I feel I ought to know.’

  Instantly, he straightened up. ‘Oh! Well, yes, of course. Ask away. As I said, whatever you want to know, I shall be happy to tell you. Anything at all.’

  And so, as they resumed their walk, their progress somewhat erratic, she came to learn that his mother and father were called Rufus and Virginia, that his sisters were Eugenie and Viola, that his parents still lived in the village where he had been born, and, incidentally, what he had both enjoyed and disliked about being away at school. Seemingly more at ease now, he then went on to tell her, unprompted, about his hopes and plans for the future.

  ‘So you would like to stay in the RAF – even when this war is over and done with?’ she asked when he seemed to have run out of things to tell her, and largely to check that she had understood him.

  He nodded. ‘I truly believe that we are only just beginning to understand what can be achieved through the power of flight. I mean to say, when the steam engine was first invented, no one could much see the point of that. But look how it went on to change our lives – just think of all the uses for it that we now take for granted. And the same will happen with manned flight, I’m sure of it. Once flying machines are no longer an instrument for waging war, all manner of new opportunities will open up. And I should like to be at the forefront of some of them.’

  ‘By remaining in the RAF.’

  ‘For the moment, yes. But not to the exclusion of having my own home, and a wife and a family, of course. No, I should very much like to have children – children that will live to see the great advances that are almost certainly upon us – and to be able to raise them such that they might play their own part in what is to come.’

  Put like that, the life he was offering her sounded to be one of purpose and meaning. And, no doubt, one of creature comforts, too – certainly more so than she would have had with Luke. Oddly, she wasn’t sure how she felt about that: did she truly deserve a life of privilege and luxury? And if she didn’t, then why didn’t she? When she one day had children, wouldn’t she want them to have the benefit of proper schooling – wouldn’t she want them to go out into the world, just as he had described, and do something meaningful with their lives?

  ‘Would you send your children away to school?’ she asked. It wasn’t something she had wondered about until then but, with him having been the one to mention children, it struck her as something she ought to know.

  ‘Well, ignoring for the moment the issue of being able to afford the fees,’ he said, glancing briefly towards her. ‘I should only want them to go away if it was the right thing for them as individuals. A decent grammar school in a good city – such as, say, Cheltenham – might be better than having them not fit in at boarding school. I suppose it would be something we would agree upon at the time. I certainly wouldn’t mandate that they board. My parents didn’t. At the appropriate age, they asked each of us how we felt and then respected our wishes.’

  Goodness. She’d never come across a parent anywhere who listened to the wishes of their children. Quite the opposite.

  Reflecting upon what he had just said, she gave a little sigh. He had been honest with her and so, perhaps, the time had come for her to be the same – to admit to the deepest of her concerns.

  To that end, she drew a short breath. ‘Thank you for being so forthcoming—’

  ‘Not at all.’

  ‘It helps me to picture… well, to picture the sort of life you hope for, I suppose…’

  ‘But for any of those things to have meaning,’ he rushed to add, ‘I should want only to share them with you – once you felt entirely ready, of course.’

  When she felt her insides tensing, she knew why it was. If he was going to profess to having feelings like that for her, then she had to tell him how she felt. She couldn’t let him go about thinking that his chances were greater than they were.

  ‘I worry that I would let you down.’ There – she had said it. She had confessed to what she saw as the biggest obstacle to accepting him, which was, in essence, that she was well beneath his station.

  ‘That you would let me down?’

  Seeing just how taken aback he looked, she hurried to elaborate. ‘You must already have noticed that I’m poorly taught. And, apart from Hartland Street, I know little of the world beyond Woodicombe. Indeed, I only know which knives and forks to use for the various courses of a meal because I grew up laying them on the tables of gentry folk. Truly, I am a nobody. And I worry that in your… sort of class, everyone would see that.’

  ‘You’re not a nobody,’ he snatched the opportunity to correct her.

  But the little noise she gave in response signified her disagreement. ‘’Tis kind of you to say so, but there can be no altering the truth. Many would be the time I wouldn’t know how to act. Like in the company of your mother, for instance. With her being a person of learning, how would I ever—’

  ‘She is learned, yes. But she wouldn’t expect you to be. My sisters aren’t.’

  ‘Maybe not. But I’ll warrant they’re well-schooled.’ Certainly better than I am; they couldn’t fail to be.

  ‘Reasonably well, yes. But the thing you have yet to discover about my mother is, her belief that every woman should be able to do whatever she wants with her own life. If that means being a wife and mother – as my sisters have chosen to be – then that’s fine by her, just as long as it is by their own choosing. On the other hand, if a woman wants to fly aeroplanes or… or become a doctor rather than a nurse, then according to her, that should be all right, too.’

  ‘But I wouldn’t know how to talk to her…’

  When he began to laugh, she blushed.

  ‘I venture you would do as the rest of us do and use your mouth.’

  ‘Please don’t tease me,’ she said, removing her eyes from his and turning them to the ground. ‘You know what I mean.’

  ‘I do,’ he said.

  At the periphery of her vision, she saw him move closer. ‘Then please don’t belittle my concerns. To me, they are most real.’

  His hands, she noticed in that moment, twitched as though about to reach for her own, just as he had down in the cove. In the event, though, he thrust them behind his back. Thank goodness she was wearing her mourning gown; if nothing else, it felt like a sort of barrier – a shield.

  ‘Kate, please, I would never belittle your fears. Indeed, I am grateful that you feel you can be honest with me. If I know of your concerns, then I can help you to overcome them. But, I assure you, you have absolutely no need to fear my mother. Or my father. Or my sisters. As a family, we don’t judge people by where they come from. We just don’t.’

  ‘I fear she wou
ld look upon me with disdain—’

  ‘She wouldn’t.’

  ‘I should feel unfit to be her parlour maid, let alone her daughter-in-law.’

  ‘Oh, Kate, no—’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Then you must meet her—’

  ‘What? No!’

  ‘Yes, I mean it. There are clearly things about which you need to be sure before committing to my proposal. And that’s good. A desire to be certain tells me that you are your own person. I respect that. So, let me take you to meet my mother—’

  ‘No. I couldn’t—’

  ‘—and allow you to see for yourself that the quality she values most in a person is sincerity.’

  ‘Rowley, please—’

  ‘Not for a luncheon, not if that would make you feel uncomfortable – just for an afternoon tea in a little café somewhere – neutral territory. I could introduce you to her as a dear acquaintance, so that on neither side would there be any expectations.’

  Feeling the rate at which her heart was beating, she shook her head in dismay. His suggestion was a sensible one – she just couldn’t see herself mustering the confidence to go through with it, especially not without enlisting some form of help and tutoring from Naomi beforehand. But, as things stood at that moment, she wanted to keep her – and everyone else, for that matter – as far away from all of this as she possibly could. So, what to do?

  ‘I’ll think about it,’ she said, finally raising her head and meeting his look.

  His expression was one of immense relief. ‘Good. Please, do remember that it is just a suggestion. If you decide not to take up the offer to witness for yourself that what I say about my family is true, I shall think no less of you for it.’

  ‘All right. And, howsoever I decide upon the matter, you stand by your promise that you won’t rush me for an answer?’