Lovers in Enemy Territory

by Rebecca Winters

  After a pause, she nodded and side by side they entered the gothic interior. No one was about and their footsteps reverberated in the huge nave. This was her domain, her sanctuary of refuge, but this time a man was at her side. It was a very strange feeling.

  Jeffrey knelt and made the sign of the cross at the first pew. Catherine studied the tall, dashing figure which had retreated from her momentarily. His head was bowed in prayer. She'd always thought it a lovely sight to see the sisters at prayer, but as she continued to gaze at Jeffrey, she realized there was nothing more beautiful than a man subjecting himself to God, kneeling in reverence before the Lord.

  Michael's father was one of God's finest creations. Suddenly she felt overcome with a strong emotion, an intense feeling of admiration, even affection for him. He sensed her eyes on him, and like a magnet, they drew his gaze. A feeling of love for her all but consumed him as they looked at each other. Perhaps she belonged to God's kingdom, but she’d touched his life and it could never be the same again.

  Catherine finally found the strength to continue down the aisle where she knelt before the shrine of the Virgin and focused all her attention on the Mother of God. She closed her eyes, making the sign of the cross, but she couldn’t concentrate. She tried to pray, but she kept seeing Commander Norwood's eyes and captivating smile. She tried to block him from her mind, but the more she tried, the more she felt his presence.

  She couldn’t forget he was there with her. It began to haunt her. She could find no peace before the sacred altar and finally came to the conclusion that worship and communion here were impossible. He was coming between her and God. It wasn't his fault. He'd brought her here as a kindness, yet her feelings were anything but tranquil. Never in her life had she ever found it impossible to put herself in total communion.

  A half hour passed and she rose to leave. As she walked down the aisle, she noticed he was no longer there. He’d probably gone out to the car to leave her alone. He always knew the right thing to do. She hurried out to the car and Jeffrey helped her inside.

  "Betty's house is right around the next corner. It won't take long." She nodded but said nothing. She couldn't speak right now. They pulled up in front of a row house which looked like all the other houses in the village, their exteriors of dull red brick. Jeffrey climbed out of the car once more and came around to her side. She didn't understand when he opened the door for her.

  "I can stay here, Commander."

  "Sister," his voice pleaded, "would you come in with me, please? This is difficult for me to do alone. I need you at my side."

  Hesitantly she got out of the car and walked up to the door with him. He knocked and pulled the collar of his dark coat up around his ears to keep out the rain which was still coming down, though not as heavily as before. The door opened. The wife's face was a picture of misery. She recognized Jeffrey and threw her arms around his neck.

  "Jeff," she sobbed against his chest. "Andy's gone," the forlorn voice cried out. He comforted her for several minutes. Finally the woman raised her head and looked at Catherine. "I'm sorry, Sister. Please forgive me. Won't you both come in?"

  They stepped inside the humble house which looked as if it needed a thorough cleaning. "I haven't been up to keeping things the way I usually do. You'll have to forgive the way the house looks," she apologized. "Just a minute. I have to check on little Andy.” She hurried to a back room.

  They looked at each other. Here was the real tragedy of the war, an awful reminder of what life was really all about

  "Come on, Andy," the mother coaxed a two year-old into the room. "Come and see Commander Norwood. Come on, that's a love.” She picked him up. The child had bright red hair like a copper penny and ruddy cheeks. Their roundness half hid the large eyes. Catherine smiled and reached for him. "May I?" she asked.

  "By all means. Please do. There Andy, go to Sister.” The boy hesitantly went into her arms. He pulled his head away from her face and stared, examining everything.

  "I guess I'm something of a curiosity, aren't I, Andy?" Catherine laughed and cuddled him. After a moment, when she no longer seemed suspect, the child showed her a block he held tightly in his fist. There were more on the floor. She bent down and put the boy next to them. "Shall we build something?" she asked and did it with him.

  "Sister, you have a way," the mother sighed the words. Yes, Jeffrey thought as he watched the two of them. She had a way.

  "Come on, Jeff. Sit down and tell me about Michael."

  "Betty," he put a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry. Andy was the best. I wish I knew the words to say to you right now."

  "You've been through it yourself, Jeff. There isn't anything anyone can say. You just have to go on."

  "How well I know. Is there anything I can do for you? Please name it. Andy and I always looked out for each other."

  "Nothing, Jeff. Just be my friend."

  "Do you have enough money?"

  "Does anyone? Oh, I'm all right. I have a job at the factory. It's enough, and Roger has a job after school. It all helps." She sniffed again. "Is Michael better?"

  "He's coming along splendidly." His eyes wandered to the nun's face.

  "That's wonderful, Jeff. If I didn't have the kids, I don't know what I'd do.” She broke down. Catherine was listening. "Why did it have to happen, Jeff? I love him. It hurts, you know? I reach out for him in bed. Nothing. I lie awake all night, pretending I'll wake up and find it's not real. But it is. He was my whole life. The sun rose and set with him, even if he was an old grouch before his first cup a tea in the morning," she choked.

  "I know, Betty," he whispered.

  "But I thank God for one thing. I had fourteen wonderful years with him," she rambled on, "and I've his children. Florence's daughter down the street just lost her fiancé yesterday. She didn’t even get to the altar. She’s worse off than I am. At least I have memories.” She straightened and wiped her eyes.

  Catherine played with the little boy, but she’d been deeply moved by the mother’s words. She’d never planned to marry and arose to pat the child’s head. This red-haired boy was a product of love. She found herself wondering what it

  would be like to lie in a man's arms and experience the intimacy which could result in a beautiful baby like Andy. She was not naive to the mechanics, but it never occurred to her to wonder until now.

  Jeffrey noticed how reflective Catherine had become. Something about his conversation with Betty had caused a reaction in her. "Betty, Sister and I have to get back to Michael. Phil and Elinore won't be able to stay with him much longer."

  "Sure, Jeff. You're a love for coming.” She kissed his cheek and they went to the door. Catherine followed. "Thank you for coming, Sister. Andy has taken a liking to you, I can tell."

  "He's adorable. I'm so sorry about your husband. I pray you will eventually find peace."

  "I doubt it, Sister. Once you love a man, there is no peace. Maybe you sisters have the answer after all, but thanks anyway for the thought. God bless you."

  Catherine nodded and hurried out to the car, her mind in utter confusion as if she'd been dealt a blow. Her life at the convent hadn’t prepared her for all this. She felt as if she were drowning in reality. Jeffrey got in beside her. Neither of them spoke.

  He waited before starting the motor. Catherine's face was buried in her hands. "Sister?"

  "Yes?"

  "Are you all right?"

  "Yes," she replied and raised up, staring straight ahead.

  "Then before we go back to Norwood, I'd like to stop at the Emporium down the street and pick up a little present for Michael. I was hoping you could help me think of something."

  "Well," she thought aloud, "he loved the puppet shows we put on at the convent. They were a regular occurrence. Of course the puppets were all made by the children and I'm afraid they were a bit makeshift.” She smiled in remembrance. "If we could find a real puppet, something to be worked with, I have no doubt Michael would be delighted."

  "Wh
at a wonderful idea! Let's go looking.” He started the car, happy to see she didn’t seem as distressed as before. They went into the Emporium but the woman said they did not carry puppets. Perhaps down the street. After five stops, they found a small shop on a quaint, narrow street which handled antiques, used furniture, old clothes and toys.

  "You say you want a puppet?" The old man peered through thick glasses.

  "Yes," Catherine grew animated. "A person or an animal. It doesn't matter.”

  "I'll look in the back. Just a moment.” He shuffled to the rear of the store.

  Catherine wandered through the aisles, amazed at the collection of merchandise. There was literally everything imaginable hanging from the ceiling and cluttering the tables and display counters. "How does one make up his mind in a shop like this?" .

  "I'm sure I don't know," Jeffrey chuckled. Then something caught his eye. "Come over here, Sister. Look at this!"

  She drew closer and was immediately taken with the superb marble replica of the Pieta. "Oh," she sighed and picked it up, admiring the detail. "It's the Michelangelo from Saint Peter's. Isn't it exquisite?" she exclaimed, turning it over. The bottom was marked fifty pounds. She quickly put it back on the table.

  "When I think of the Son of God, it’d that likeness I see. Look at the expression on his face, and the way his mother smiles down at him! Love radiates from her eyes. It's incredible that a mortal could have captured that special glow which must have enveloped them. I'm certain she was as lovely as he portrayed her here."

  Jeffrey was standing close to her, watching in rapt attention as she spoke. "It's a remarkable piece, but even her beauty couldn't compare to yours, Sister."

  Once again, he’d spoken his mind without thinking. Her eyes opened wide as she looked up at him. A blush suffused her face. There was a noise and Catherine turned quickly in the direction of the back of the shop. Jeffrey looked away reluctantly.

  "I have two puppets but they're not the marionette type. You work these with the hand."

  "That's perfect," she said in a whisper. He handed her the first one. It was a country bumpkin with freckles and several teeth missing. She slipped a trembling hand inside and wiggled her fingers, but she wasn't very taken with it.

  "Here is the other one."

  Jeffrey's face lit up. "May I see it, please." It was a dog-- a spaniel. He smiled at Catherine. "You're not going to believe it, but this face looks a lot like Michael's dog at home. It has a little too much red in the fur, but the expression around the eyes and nose is very much like ours."

  "He's delightful," she smiled and put it on. "Michael will love it." The shop keeper seemed pleased. "We'll take it," Jeffrey said. The man nodded. "Can I interest you in anything else?"

  As Jeffrey spoke quietly with the shopkeeper, Catherine walked to the entrance and gazed out the windows. The rain had stopped. In a few minutes Jeffrey had his packages and they were on their way back to Norwood. They went a different route this time. She didn't recognize the scenery. He drove through several villages and into a park which was a veritable forest. The road wound deeper and farther into the trees. Finally he pulled the car to a stop and turned off the motor.

  "Sister, before we get back to the hospital, I want to give you this as a token of my appreciation for all you've done for Michael.” Catherine was deeply touched as she opened the parcel and found the lovely Pieta. "I know you don't take any credit for his recovery. You're too modest for that, but it’s true.

  “Michael wouldn’t be alive if it weren't for you," his voice cracked. "You're a wonderful woman, Sister. I've never known anyone like you. Please accept this present. It can't begin to demonstrate what I feel, but since you admired it, I want you to have it."

  She couldn't get the words out, her heart was too full. Finally she said, "Thank you. You’re very kind, but we’re not allowed to accept personal gifts."

  A shadow crossed his face and his disappointment was apparent. She didn't want to hurt him. He’d never treated her with anything but the greatest respect.

  "Commander, I’ll always remember the thought and will cherish the memory of you and Michael for as long as I live." Her head lowered. "Michael has always been a perfect gentleman. I used to think he was born with that exceptional characteristic, but now I know he acquired it from you."

  Jeffrey stirred. He realized she was actually paying him a compliment, and it was probably difficult for her. She’d made it clear that he would soon only be a memory to her. He couldn't accept that.

  She grew uneasy because he wasn't saying anything, and turned to him. He was staring into space, then started to speak. "You give me too much credit, Sister. Michael is his mother's child."

  "I'm sure that's true. It takes both parents to raise a child as remarkable as Michael."

  "Connie was a good mother and completely devoted to him."

  "She must have been wonderful, otherwise Michael would never have suffered as he did."

  "Yes. We both loved her very much, and I'll never forget her, but," he turned to Catherine and his face blazed with emotion, “she’s part of the past now, for Michael and me. There’s still a lifetime ahead of us. This past week has opened my eyes to many things. Michael’s going to get well and that erases the grief and sadness of the past year.

  “That’s why I’m so grateful to you. Your coming to Norwood has put hope and meaning into both our lives. I find that it’s a great thrill just to be alive, despite the war, despite everything. My life seems filled with purpose again. You can't imagine how good it feels to come back from such emptiness. I have you to thank, Sister."

  He started the motor and they returned to Norwood in silence. She was overwhelmed by his admissions. His honesty and goodness reached an inner chamber of her heart. She was happy that he’d found life worth living again. He was too fine a man to waste away from emotional scars. She would never forget him.

  They reached the hospital at the dinner hour, and Philip and EJinore returned to the house. Michael had spent an exhausting day and was fast asleep as soon as dinner was over, but he’d been overjoyed with the puppet. He fell asleep with it still on his hand.

  Catherine disappeared from the room for a long while, then came back and began reading, as if Jeffrey weren’t in the room at all. He wanted to talk to her, but she was detached, preoccupied. He'd probably said too much earlier.

  She wasn’t in the habit of being in a man's company. He didn't know what to say or do in front of her anymore. Much against his will, he decided to go back to the house. In fact he sensed she wanted him to leave.

  "Sister, since Michael is so much better, I think I’ll try to put in a few hours work in London tomorrow. I've been away from everything much too long."

  Catherine nodded. Naturally he had work to do. She’d marveled that he’d been able to spend all this time at the hospital. But his words disturbed her.

  "I'll be back for dinner. Elinore told me she would come and sit with Michael whenever you wanted to be relieved. You've been so unselfish with your time. I've imposed on you. Thank you again, for everything."

  "It's my life taking care of children, a great blessing. You don't need to thank me."

  "Then I'll see you tomorrow at dinner."

  She inclined her head. Jeffrey didn't want to go, but apparently there was no more to be said.

  Catherine read for a while, but the book really didn't interest her. Tomorrow she and Michael would have a whole day together without the company of his father. Wasn't that the way it should be? Life was getting back to normal bit by bit. It was right. She should be relieved.

  Soon Michael would go back home. As for her, she would return to the convent. There was always a great deal of work to be done. It was a place of refuge, her only home. But it was hard to imagine herself back there now, even though the convent had been her life since her teens.

  The following day Catherine organized the morning into a workshop for Michael. He had lessons in spelling, printing and sums. After lunc
h she took him for a walk and then they joined some of the other young patients in the nursery, and she played afew pieces for them on the piano. It passed the time and seemed to give Michael pleasure.

  Presently it was time for dinner. She’d been watching the clock. Michael eagerly awaited the arrival of his father as well. The trays were brought in and the two of them ate their meal without him for it appeared he wouldn't be coming after all. At seven o'clock, a sister told Catherine she was wanted

  on the phone. She went out to the nursing station and took the receiver.

  "Yes?"

  "Hello, Sister ..." It was the Commander.

  "Hello."

  "I'm sorry I didn't get back to Norwood this evening. When I went to work today, Lord Wyngate called a meeting. I had to be in attendance and we're still going strong. Please tell Michael I'll make it up to him tomorrow." There was an appreciable pause. "I really would prefer being with the two of you to anything else I can think of."

  "I'll tell Michael," she spoke softly.

  "Then I'll see you tomorrow and I hope to interest you in another game of chess. You have from now till four o'clock to sharpen your wits.” He clicked off.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Michael was asleep when she returned to the room. All was quiet and peaceful. The long hours of the evening seemed to stretch endlessly before her. A restlessness had come over her. She paced the floor, then sat down to read, but didn't even open the book. She got up again and went to the window. The sun was below the horizon but she could still see the oranges and pinks of the roses in the garden across the street.

  Several hours passed and she had to face the truth about her inner turmoil. She was disappointed. There was no way around it. She'd spent almost an entire week with Commander Norwood, and she missed him. It was that simple.

  He brought life into the dingy hospital room. Aghast, she hurried from the room and went directly to the chapel. An hour's contemplation before the altar did little to drive away the pangs of emptiness she felt whenever she thought of returning to the convent, away from Michael and his father.