Cam sucked in great gulps of air to try and catch his breath. Maisie left him to speak, not wanting him to hold on to any of his nightmare. Experience had taught her that once it was out, the deep fear and horrors of what men had seen started to lessen and it helped them on their road to recovery. She needed her Cam back, the man as she knew him; it was selfish but she couldn’t help it.
‘Carry on. Tell me all of it. Fate certainly played a part in bringing you both home to me,’ she whispered to him.
After a spate of sobs, Cam continued.
‘As Jack reached out his hand, a screaming sound of metal striking metal vibrated around us and his ship started listing. Another explosion ripped Jack from my grip, and I watched him literally fly into the flames that were licking their way around us all. If he hadn’t tried to save me … Oh, Maisie, forgive me! You can’t stay with me now. It’s my fault. Just when you found him again … How can you even look at me?’
Cam put his hands over his neck again and another bout of traumatic rocking stopped the flow of his words. Maisie wasn’t sure how much more she could bear to listen to, but Cam needed to say it out loud. He needed her to hear it, and it was the least she could do to endure watching him fight his pain after all he and others like him had done for her, for everyone.
‘Cam, my love, you did nothing wrong. There is nothing to forgive. It was war, awful, terrible war. How could you have known? Don’t keep blaming yourself. My darling, I have to go to him now. I have to thank him for saving you. I’ll only have him for a short while longer, but I’ll have you for the rest of my life. I’m going nowhere, except to my brother’s side.’
Cam nodded. ‘He deserves everything you can do for him. Go to him. I’ll follow soon. I just need to sit quietly for a while.’
‘I understand. Rest here and sleep. Go upstairs. Be kind to yourself, Cam. This is not your fault. You deserve my love, too. And you will always have it, do you hear me?’
Maisie out her arms around her fiancé and this time, he let her hold him tightly. She whispered soothing words as his rocking slowed to a stop. ‘Go and rest. You are safe with me now.’
Jack’s body lay stiff and unmoving. The doctor told Maisie that the morphine had done its job, but that Jack would not need any more. His life was drawing to an end and all they could do was ensure he was quiet and comfortable. Maisie sat beside her brother, only dozing for short periods. Any alteration in his breathing brought her to a state of alertness within seconds.
To her surprise and that of the doctor, Jack survived the night. Again, with the nurses under instruction to call her if he woke, Maisie returned home to freshen up and to check on Cam.
His clothes were draped over the back of the chair, and his boots stood in one corner. She picked them up and pulled out her boot polish kit. She buffed and shone the boots, removing all traces of the seawater stains. Another reminder of the awfulness they had endured was removed, and the fierce polishing helped her relieve a build-up of tension before she went to her room to check on Cam.
Tiptoeing upstairs, she pushed open her bedroom door and saw him curled like a small boy, hugging the pillow close to his chest and breathing softly. She went to her wardrobe and pulled out a fresh uniform and slipped back downstairs. No sooner had she finished a quick strip wash, she heard him cough as he came downstairs.
‘Morning,’ she said, not daring to move for fear he’d run or start rocking again.
Cam ran his fingers through his hair and stretched his arms above his head as he yawned. His pale face and gaunt eyes stared back at her; the dark shadow of unshaven growth around his jawline aged him.
‘How’s Jack?’ he asked. Maisie could see the tension in his shoulders.
‘He survived the night, and had a calm one, which is good. How are you?’
‘Rested. Not sure about recovered. These bruises and ribs will hurt forever, I’m sure,’ Cam pointed to large black bruises under his vest and winced when he inhaled.
‘Oh, Cam. You’ve got broken ribs, by the looks of things. Come with me and get yourself checked over.’
Cam shook his head.
‘I’ll be fine. You go to Jack. I’ll come over as soon as I’ve cleaned myself up and dressed.’
‘Is there anything I can do for you?’ Maisie asked.
‘I’d like a kiss. I need you to forgive me.’
Her heart went out to him. She reached for his shoulders and this time he didn’t flinch away.
‘I’ve told you, there’s nothing to forgive. It’s war. Terrible things happen – dreadful things. It’s the enemy who is to blame for Jack’s condition, not you. I have to go and say goodbye to him. When I get back we’ll kiss and talk for as long as you want, but I never want you to ask for my forgiveness again. Understand? We cannot have this come between us. I didn’t know him for long, but I do know that Jack wouldn’t want his death to drive us apart.’
Cam kissed her lightly on the lips.
‘How can you be so brave, so strong, and so forgiving?’
‘I’ve told you, there’s nothing to forgive, and as for me being strong and brave … it’s all a front. I am scared and weak. I’m about to lose the only family I have, my twin. It’s a terrible pain to lose him twice.’ She paused for breath and with a clenched fist banged against her heart. ‘Deep in here, it’s raw. Don’t put me on a pedestal, Cam. I can fall off as easily as anyone. I’ll be back to see you soon.’
Maisie planted a kiss on his cheek and went to her brother’s bedside.
Jack’s eyes glistened; pain pushed its way to the surface. He ground his teeth and writhed around the bed, bathed in sweat, panting for breath with rigid jerking limbs flailing in the space above him. He looked like a drowning conductor of a failing orchestra, tortured and incapable of controlling what was going on around him.
The doctor shook his head at Maisie.
‘I’ve given him all I can. I’m sorry.’
Maisie gave the doctor a smile of gratitude and stood beside her brother’s bed.
Suddenly Jack screamed out for Maisie to hold him and he pulled her close, staring into her face with such an intensity it frightened her. It sapped her strength to remain detached from his horrors the more he stared. Her heart pounded and she watched his own beat with great intensity against his ribs. She lowered her face to his.
‘Fight it, Jack. Fight your demons. Then rest.’
A slight shake of his head was followed by another scream. She touched her palms to the bandages on his cheeks, gently holding his face to prevent him from injuring himself further.
‘Sleep, Jack. Sleep, my darling brother,’ she whispered.
Instead of closing his eyes, he widened them. Flickering movements of his hands told her that he was struggling to stare up at her but he was determined to show her that he was not giving in to death.
And then she saw it: everything he’d ever witnessed, reflected in his painfully twisted features.
The memories distorted the corners of his mouth, his face contorted, his eyes opened and shut as if he was trying to block out what he’d seen. Maisie saw the torment, and the look in his eyes told her more than his lips ever could. She stroked his cheek bone, feeling the dampness beneath his eyelids as warm tears nestled against his cooling flesh. She absorbed the plea in his eyes, his silent urge for her to keep his secret: he felt guilty for surviving. All her patients had the same look when they returned from the fighting.
‘Let’s get you comfy again,’ she whispered. ‘I’ll read to you; blink once for the newspaper and twice for a poem from my poetry book.’
Two firm blinks gave her the answer she sought. And it told her that he could no longer bear to hear about the war. It was time for him to rest his memories, to file them away as another soldier’s victory. It was time to concede to the enemy’s power.
‘I wrote a poem for you, Jack, about sailors of the past and their love of the sea. Close your eyes and imagine you are out there on calm, blue waters, during peacetime. Go bac
k to the sea, Jack.’
A Sailor’s Heart
Mist rolls in on foam-tipped waves,
Eerily silent fleets sail by,
Their elegance and grace are moving,
As their sails stand proudly high.
To the tidal dancing sea,
And the salt within his blood,
The sailor’s heart is slave,
When he gives way to his true love.
Halfway through the fifth line of the poem, Maisie noticed a change in her brother’s breathing pattern. Shallow breaths rasped around the room, and his pale face drained into a yellowy-grey hue. She laid down the book on the bloodstained counterpane and reached for his hand. Calloused, bruised fingers wrapped around hers with no energy to grip as they once had. She leaned forward to kiss his forehead. His voice, a strained whisper, released one word: love.
‘And I love you,’ she replied.
The soft rattle indicated his last breath and the room fell silent. Maisie touched her fingers to her lips, ignoring her tears snaking their way down her hand. They fell for her brother and the life they should have had together. They fell for the fallen.
A soft movement from behind her brought her back from her thoughts, and a hand touched her shoulder.
‘He saved my life. He pulled me from the water.’ Cam’s voice cracked with emotion, and Maisie turned to face him.
‘He saved you for me. He was sent back into my life for a reason,’ she whispered.
Cam eased her close to him and wrapped his arms around her. She could smell the fumes of war on his jacket, but the beating of his heart reassured her it wasn’t a dream. Cam was alive, and back in her arms. Two heroes in one room, but only one could share her future.
CHAPTER 32
1945
‘I can’t believe it’s over.’ Joyce sat in a chair nursing her baby daughter, a tear dripping from the end of her nose. Maisie dabbed it with a handkerchief.
News of the war coming to an end brought with it bittersweet joy, and as soon as she heard, Maisie ran to see Joyce.
‘It must be hard for you. Jack’s death feels like such a waste and what with you losing Charlie and Fred too … it’s heartbreaking. I don’t think any of us will recover fully.’
Joyce planted a kiss on her daughter’s head.
‘Thank goodness for my many in-laws, that’s all I can say. This little one will keep me busy, and as for Archie, we must make sure war never happens again for his sake. We have to keep talking about their fathers and what good men they were. They must never be forgotten.’
Maisie sat on the edge of the bed.
‘I’ll certainly never forget Charlie. It’s a lot to try and forget, a friendship like ours. Cam still has those terrible nightmares. Yesterday, it was suggested that he may be medically unfit to jump again, and I must admit, I won’t be sad if he is retired out on medical grounds. The wedding date is so close now I can smell it. I can’t believe I’m getting married, and I never believed we’d marry in peacetime. Sometimes, well …’ Maisie took the conversation no further. Joyce knew what her sometimes thoughts were because she had experienced her own … twice.
‘What are your plans for after the ceremony?’ Joyce asked.
Maisie shrugged. ‘It depends on what happens to Cam. He’s supposed to fly home after the wedding. And as of this week, I am cleared to live in Canada. I’ve never filled in so many papers. I’m grateful to Charlie’s dad for stepping in and helping me.’
Joyce nodded in agreement. ‘He was more than willing to fill them in if it made you happy. He’s very fond of you. We all are.’
‘I’m thrilled he agreed to give me away too,’ Maisie said and gave a small smile. ‘I’ll never forget Jack offering and it would have been wonderful. However, I have no doubt he’ll watch over me on the day. How can he not be with me? We are twins, after all. Anyway, I’ve also applied to go as a Red Cross volunteer to support the men returning to Canada. Obviously, it’s a one-way ticket and I’ll give up my duties once there. It will pass the time and I’ll be of use.’
Joyce handed the baby over to Maisie and sniffled into a handkerchief.
‘I’m going to miss you so much.’
Maisie looked down on the child in her arms.
‘I’ll miss you all, but I have to go. A life in Canada is what we always planned. And in his current state of mind, Cam needs to be back with his family. His idea of us setting up home by a river might have a calming effect on him. I’ll be homesick for you, but I’ve nothing else here.’
Joyce pulled her blouse closed and buttoned it up. She leaned over and took the sleeping baby from Maisie and laid her in her crib. Once satisfied her daughter was settled, she went to Maisie and gave her an envelope.
‘If it doesn’t work out, you have a home here. Understand? Do not suffer in silence, just come back to us – your non-blood family. Just telegram for the money home, we’ll get it to you. Here are a few photographs of us which might be nice for you to put in your new home.’
Maisie enjoyed another hour of chatting with Joyce and left to catch the bus to Aldershot to visit Cam. She and Cam had enjoyed little time together since the night of Jack’s death. Cam had been recalled to duty five days later, and intermittent letters and two telephone calls were the only communication they’d had for nearly eight months. But after presenting himself to the medic whilst in France, Cam had been returned to barracks in England with a diagnosis of exhaustion and fever. Their wedding day was set for June 2nd, and Maisie prayed he’d be fit enough.
The sentry on duty gave her a beaming smile as she walked towards him.
‘Here she comes, brightening up my day. What do you want marrying a Canadian when you could have the best of British with me?’ he quipped.
Maisie laughed. Each time she visited he said the same. Her reply never altered either.
‘And who am I to deprive another of the best? Talking of brightening up, walking out in the evening with streetlights is such a novelty nowadays, so be wary of scaring the locals,’ Maisie teased and received a cock-eyed salute in return.
Entering the medical bay, she beamed a smile at the nurse on duty.
‘How is he today?’ she asked.
Cam was popular amongst the nursing staff for his gentle nature and good manners.
‘Better. Much better. Temperature is down and he slept from when you left yesterday at four, until six this morning. He felt guilty but was reminded of why his body shut down in the first place. He’s outside having a stroll now.’
Maisie headed out to the back of the units where the nurse directed her and saw Cam walking slowly, drawing on a cigarette. She didn’t call out straight away but watched from where she stood. His shoulders were rounded and his steps slow; Cam still looked exhausted, but the fact that he was up and walking was a positive sign.
‘Back straight, airman,’ she called.
Cam turned and waved. His face broke out into a smile and he strode towards her.
‘Slow down, there’s no rush,’ Maisie said as she ran to meet him.
‘I’ve got energy at last,’ Cam said and lifted her off the ground.
‘Put me down, silly. You’ll have none left to kiss me at this rate,’ she said.
‘Always,’ Cam said and pressed his lips against hers.
When they pulled apart, he tugged at his left ear and looked slightly awkward. A fear that something unpleasant was about to happen gnawed away at Maisie’s insides.
‘Problem?’ she asked.
‘No but I have news,’ Cam replied.
Maisie linked her arm through his and guided him to a quiet area with a wooden bench. Although not a cold day, there was a slight chill on the wind, and she huddled into him for comfort.
‘Sit and tell me your news. I hope it’s good, for a change,’ she said with false enthusiasm.
‘Our wedding. It’s going to be a quiet affair … just how we want it,’ Cam said in a cautious voice.
‘Yes. As we both want it.
No fuss.’
‘I had a call from my mother and after she’d asked about me and the wedding, she told me there were plans afoot to greet you and embrace you into the family. They’re going to visit for a month once we’ve settled.’
‘Ah, that’s lovely. I’m worried about meeting them but I’m also excited.’
‘That’s the thing. If there are plans, it means Mom is organising a repeat wedding. She does nothing by halves when it comes to entertaining.’
Cam sighed and looked at Maisie with an apologetic grin.
‘Harry Cameron, I’ve survived a war, dodged bombs, seen many people die, buried a dear friend as well as my brother. I’ve watched the life drain from you and I’m about to sail across the ocean to live in in a strange country. I think I can fool your mother into believing I’m enjoying the party she’s thrown for us, don’t you?’
Cam rose to his feet and held out his hands. Maisie moved in for more than a gentle cuddle. They locked themselves into a hold which meant more than words of love ever could or would. When Cam let her go, he stared her hard in the face.
‘And that is why I am marrying you. I’ve never met anyone with such a big heart. You are incredible. I’m going to be one proud husband.’
The showers of the previous day moved into fair weather, much to Maisie’s relief. Dressed in a newly pressed uniform, she looked at the trunk waiting by the door, then back at the image in the mirror before her. Should she change her outfit?
Inside the trunk was the neatly folded wedding dress she’d made for Coleen, waiting to be transported to Nova Scotia. After much deliberation, Maisie had chosen not to wear the dress for her own wedding. Her intention was to create a christening gown for their children from the material, and instead she and Cam would wear the uniforms they were proud to be seen in for their wedding day. It would be the last time Cam would wear his and they thought one photograph of them together at the end of war would be fitting on such a day. Cam’s medical discharge letter had arrived a week before the wedding. He had seemed down for a few hours, but after making a call to his parents his mood had lifted. All plans for his fishing project were now his focus.
The Forgotten Orphan: The heartbreaking and gripping World War 2 historical novel Page 24
