The Heart's War

by Lucy Lambert

  I had no idea what she was talking about. I kept looking down at the little stacks of bills. She'd tapped them all against the table to straighten them out. What was all this money for?

  "Tell me what, Marie?" I asked.

  "Well, with the trains all in use for transporting our boys and moving all those supplies around, I didn't know if I'd be able to get a ticket. But I spoke to a boy who works there—he's the son of one of Jeff's father's friends—and he said that he could sell me a ticket..."

  "A ticket to go where, Marie? For whom?" I asked. My fingers had tightened around my knees, rumpling that plain skirt I had on. My stomach had clenched, and my mouth had gone dry. What was she getting at? Something about her tone, her smile, sent my heart racing. The kitchen felt like it had jumped ten degrees hotter in moments.

  Marie laughed. She got up from her chair, came around the table, and hugged me, pulling the side of my face against hers. Her hair smelled of soap, and the shoulder of her blouse scratched against the underside of my jaw. I hugged her back, still confused. But I did smile. Her laughter sounded so happy. I just wished that I knew why.

  "Oh, Eleanor! I got you a ticket to go to Halifax! You'll be leaving tomorrow!"

  My trembling turned to outright shaking, and I gripped handfuls of Marie's blouse as I pulled her closer.

  "Marie! That's wonderful, just wonderful..." I said. I had to swallow a lump rising up my throat, and moisture built in the corners of my eyes, waiting for the opportunity to fall down my cheeks.

  It was all too much for me. If Marie really had managed to get me a ticket, I could get to Halifax and see Jeff off. Who knew? Maybe the war would end before I got there and we could share a train ride back. We could stop over in Toronto and he could get me an engagement ring from a jeweller's there.

  We parted, Marie standing by my chair, still smiling. Her eyes glistened, too.

  "What about you, Marie? Don't you want to go and see him? He's your son," I said, feeling guilty at my glee. If anyone should go, it should be Marie, I knew.

  "Oh, I think I know my boy well enough to realize that he'd rather have a pretty young woman seeing him off," Marie said.

  I looked at all the money on the table, then grabbed Marie's hands. They were warm and dry in mine, and her fingers grasped mine.

  "Why don't you see if you can get a second ticket?" I said, looking at the money again pointedly. Why did she have so much?

  "The space on the train is already spoken for. I was lucky enough to get this ticket."

  "Then you should go, Marie, I couldn't..."

  "No!" Marie said, he fingers squeezing mine so tightly I gasped. Her smile cracked for a moment, but she fixed it back to her lips right away. I almost didn't notice.

  "I mean... No, Eleanor. I've made up my mind. You know, when you and Jeff are married, I'll be your mother too. And you mustn't disagree with your mother," she said, her smile growing honest again.

  It still felt unreal to me. I had been bracing myself to not see Jeff again until the war ended. That could have been the next week, or five years away. The war had already dragged on for more than three years. Why not a few more? Lately, it had become difficult to recall the sound of his voice. That left me cold inside. I couldn't go for years without hearing his voice again.

  But that still left one thing. I stood up, using my slight height advantage to press my point.

  "Marie, you really must tell me why you have so much money here on the table."

  She extricated her hands from mine, then collected all the crisp bills up into one fist.

  "Well, after I bought the ticket... I got to thinking. What would you do if you got there and found him already departed?"

  That made me shiver. It would be truly awful to get there just to find him already out to sea. It would be worse than not having gone at all, since it would be a hope crushed.

  "I don't know," I said.

  "Well, Eleanor, just listen to me. I've heard that, for enough money, you can book passage. And, well, once you're over there, you'd need money for food, and a place to stay..."

  I had to sit down again. Weakness fluttered its wings right under my heart, and I had to breathe deeply or else feel light-headed.

  "Over where, Marie?"

  "England, of course! Just think of the look on his face to see you over there. Why, he'd finish up the war and you could go meet him in Paris! Think of it, dear," she said.

  Again, we did the back and forth that I could do no such thing. I didn't press the point too hard though, only making her raise her voice twice to tell me that, as my future mother-in-law, I would do as she said.

  "I'll do it!" I said, one hand pressing my chest. I shook so much, and all the blood seemed to have abandoned my mind. I saw black spots like large motes of dust drift across my vision.

  Marie hugged me again, and this time my smile matched hers. I closed my eyes and just felt the warmth of her body against mine and smelled the soap in her hair. I'd forgotten all about lunch. My stomach had tightened so much that I don't think I could've managed more than a mouthful in any case.

  "Come," Marie said, taking my hand and leading me up the stairs, "I've got a few suitcases I think will suit you nicely. The train leaves early, so we have to get everything ready right away."

  Marie seemed even happier than I was, if such a thing were possible. Her face had flushed crimson, and she took in long, deep breaths.

  All I could think at the time, our feet hammering on the stairs as we made our way up to the second floor, was "Thank God for Marie Beech!"

  Chapter 9

  The next morning, I found myself sitting in the window seat of a passenger car, looking down at the platform where Marie had one hand clasped over her mouth while the other waved.

  The rest of the seats were filled with soldiers. From what I gathered out of snippets of caught conversations, they were part of a regiment that had been rotated back home for a brief furlough. They were now on their way back out.

  The train lurched, its horn crying out as clouds of steam rushed up from the locomotive. My heart leapt, too, and a sudden panic gripped me. I wanted to get off. I couldn't do this. It was too much.

  But I couldn't get up. A man in his late twenties, black hair slicked back and his cap resting on his pants, had sat next to me.

  The train picked up speed, and Marie turned on the platform to keep sight of me. She kept waving. I raised my hand and curled my fingers at her. It was a dream come true and a nightmare all at once. Fear electrified every nerve in me as I thought about the adventure I was embarking upon. Before this, I'd never been farther than Niagara.

  Now I was going to a different province altogether. Maybe even a different continent!

  The train sped out of Kitchener so quickly that I scarcely noticed the city until it was almost gone. The low warehouses on the outskirts of town gave way to the rolling Ontario countryside. The sun rose above the tree line to the east, seeming to set the upper branches on fire.

  A chill moved through me despite the heat from all the bodies, and I pulled the shawl Marie had given me tighter around my shoulders.

  "I hadn't realized that the government had let women enlist. A lot's happened since I came back from France, it seems," the man beside me said. He had a smooth, easy voice to match his smooth, easy smile.

  I laughed at him, more as a way to release some of the tension tightening all the muscles in my body than at what he'd said. Leaning back in my chair, I tried to let the clickety-clack of the wheels on the polished rails and the rush of air past the cabin lull me into a daze.

  "Yes," I replied, trying to brush him off, "Indeed."

  "No," he said, "You mustn't leave me like this to stare off at all these dull barns. Here I'd been thinking that this would be a boring train ride. Do you know what I missed most when I sat huddled in those awful trenches?"

  I smiled as I closed my eyes and turned my face away, hoping that he might take the hint. He didn't.

  "Women," he
continued, "Specifically, the sound of a woman's voice. It's all yelling and bomb bursts and machine gun chatter over there. Why, when I came home I allowed my mother and sisters to talk to me until the clock chimed midnight! I went to sleep that first night with their voices fresh in my mind and a smile on my face..."

  "Wonderful, I'm sure you made them quite happy, sir. Now please, if you don't mind..." I said, turning my face away a bit more. Sunlight flashed in my eyes, lighting up through the lids.

  "I guess, miss, that what I'm trying to say is that it would sooth this poor wretched soldier's heart if you would speak to me for a while."

  I wanted to tell him that I had only slept about two hours the previous night, and that I really wanted some rest. But then some part of my mind actually thought about what he'd said. I imagined Jeff over there, his ears constantly assaulted by rough yells and bombshell bursts. What harm could it do to speak with the soldier for a few minutes?

  So I opened my eyes, took a breath, and smiled at him. His eyes strayed down for a moment, and I pulled the shawl more tightly about my shoulders. Was it really a woman's voice that he wanted?

  "Well, I suppose I can't deny you that small comfort," I said, offering my hand.

  He took it, a wolfish grin splitting his lips. He had feral green eyes that glinted as he pulled my hand up to his face.

  "Captain Lawrence Marsh, at your service. But please, call me Larry," he said, right before leaving a moist kiss on my knuckles.

  A blush crawled up my neck and cheeks. A man's mouth shouldn't feel that warm, and I didn't like that look in his eyes at all. It might have been wiser to yawn and profess how tired I felt, but he'd trapped me. I certainly couldn't just stand and leave; all the other seats were taken and the train sped along its tracks so quickly that the landscape was little more than a green and blue blur in the corner of my eye.

  "Eleanor Winters. Pleased to meet you, Captain..."

  "Larry," he interjected. I nodded, hoping that I'd managed to pull the muscles of my face into something resembling a smile.

  "So, what regiment are you with?" he asked.

  I laughed lightly, "Oh, sir, I'm not joining the army."

  He tutted, then stroked at the ends of his mustache with his thumb and forefinger as he regarded me.

  "A shame, truly. It would be such a boost to the morale of the boys to have you out there. Though, the trenches are no place for a lady. All that barbed wire would have your dress torn to ribbons in moments!"

  "If you must know, Larry, I managed to get hold of a ticket out to Halifax to see my fiancé, Jeff, off. He's only just completed his training, and he's about to get shipped over."

  He didn't need to know that Jeff wasn't yet my fiancé. But we may as well have been, with his promise of a ring. The fire glinting in the captain's eyes didn't seem to dim, and he smiled at me again. His teeth were large, square, and a brilliant white. A rich young man with a commission, used to getting what he wanted, I could tell.

  "How very loyal and loving of you, Eleanor. My, I wish I had a girl like you waiting to see me off. Why, I think I'd smuggle you aboard ship as a laundry girl! Say, tell me about this Jeff so that I can justify my jealousy! He's short and chubby, right, with the baby fat still weighing on his cheeks?"

  I did smile honestly at him then. "No, captain..."

  "Larry."

  "Yes... My Jeff is tall, and he doesn't have a spare bit of fat on him. I imagine even less, now that he's been through training."

  Lawrence laid his arm across the rest, his fingers coming dangerously close to mine. His nails were clean and clipped, the fingers themselves elegantly long. My hand pulled back from his and he laughed.

  "Truly a lucky man, your Jeff. Do you know which ship he'll be on? I'll have to find him and promote him to corporal on the spot. If he's been so able to win you over completely, he deserves it! Oh, he'll have to leave on the Olympic if you're arriving on this train," he said, pulling a silver-backed pocket watch on a gold chain out of his jacket and looking at it.

  I leaned towards him and he smiled at our closeness.

  "Why is that?" I asked.

  It felt like someone had mixed some bubbling fluid into my stomach that left a sick tingle in my body.

  "Well, the Mauretania disembarks tonight. All the men on this train are berthed on the Olympic, which will leave Halifax harbor under cover of night tomorrow evening. Why, Jeff is on the Olympic, isn't he?"

  I couldn't look at this pretty rake anymore. He made a sound of concern as I turned to the window and tried to fix my eyes on some trees in the distance across a field. The ground by the tracks moved so quickly that I knew even a glance at it would make me sick.

  "Yes," I said, "He's on the Olympic... He has to be..." I said, whispering the last few words.

  "Good to hear, good to hear! It would be such a shame if he'd already departed and you made such a long trip to see him," Lawrence said. Even though I wasn't looking at him, I could hear his smile. I could see him in my mind's eye, stroking at his mustache as he examined me.

  Dread weighed in my stomach like a lead ball. Ushers came through the crowded aisle pushing carts laden with sandwiches while more men followed behind, topping up the soldiers' canteens from sweating pitchers of water.

  Lawrence offered me a plate, which I waved away. He told me I could drink from his canteen if I grew thirsty, and I thanked him.

  About two hours later, the train made a stop in Toronto, the station buzzing with activity as even more soldiers climbed into the cars. I considered getting out there. With the money Marie had given me, I could easily afford a taxi back to Kitchener. I'd give her the remainder, and pay her any amount I spent out of my wages.

  I could go back and return to my job. I just kept thinking about what Lawrence had said. He wouldn't lie about when the ships left, would he? What advantage could that possibly lend him?

  But suppose that Jeff had boarded the Mauretania. He'd be gone, out on the Atlantic, for hours by the time my train arrived in Halifax. I'd save myself a great deal of time, grief, and money by stepping off the train at that moment, in Toronto. Marie would understand.

  Oh, why couldn't Jeff have sent a telegram with what ship he was boarding, and exactly when he was leaving? He was an impulsive man, something I both loved and hated about him. At that moment, the needle definitely edged over into "hated" territory.

  But if I returned, I'd be a failure. My grand adventure would be cut short, and I'd probably never see anything beyond the borders of Ontario unless I could convince Jeff to take us somewhere nice for our honeymoon.

  I gripped the armrests tightly as the men blew their whistles outside, calling for the final few stragglers to climb aboard. Then the train gave a great snort and we lurched forward.

  "It's okay, Eleanor," Lawrence said, putting a big, warm hand over mine. I could see the reflection of his face next to mine. He still smiled.

  "I'll make sure to get us some better seats when we change trains in Montreal. Have you ever been there? No? Quel dommage."

  I didn't pull my hand out from his right away, and he curled his fingers around mine. In that moment, I felt so scared that I took comfort from whatever source I could. That lead ball in my stomach swelled in size, and the back of my throat burned as the train accelerated away from the station, taking me farther and farther from home with every beat of my heart.

  For supper, the ushers served hot roast beef sandwiches. My stomach had been growling for hours, and my tongue felt so parched that I'd even considered asking Lawrence for a sip from his canteen. Saliva bathed my tongue as the smell of the hot beef wafted through the car. All the men quieted as well, and some of them openly smacked their lips.

  Lawrence watched me eat. I tore great mouthfuls of the sandwich with each bite.

  "I've never seen a lady more ravenous in my life. Are you sure you're all right, Eleanor? You can tell me if you're having any problems you know. Is there something going on that I should know about?" he said. He scrat
ched idly at a bit of cloth that had peeled back from the armrest.

  I wished desperately that there was someone nearby I actually felt comfortable speaking to. Why couldn't Marie have come? Had she known what it was going to be like on the train? She'd be able to commiserate with me about my worries, about Jeff being gone by the time I reached Halifax.

  Lawrence nibbled at his sandwich, dabbing at his mustache with a kerchief white as virgin snow after every bite. It was his eyes that were truly ravenous, though. They watched me with that wolfish glint. If I turned away to glance out the window to see if the lake was still in view, I felt those eyes try to bore a hole through me.

  He didn't talk to me as much when I ate, so I forced myself to slow down. I'd forgotten how sick I felt, and my stomach gave me a rude reminder. This pleased me, as it made taking dainty, nibbling bites of the sandwich much easier. I hadn't noticed how dry the meat was when they gave it to me.

  "Would you like some?" Lawrence said, tossing his head back to take a long drag from his canteen. He made a satisfied noise as he brought the metal mouth away from his lips.

  "No," I said, not wanting to owe this man any favors. The bread parched my mouth, leaving my tongue a dry, wriggling thing that thumped and curled behind my teeth as I forced myself to swallow each bite.

  More men came by later to clear the dishes away. The sun had started its descent some time before. Its dying light left pink ribbons on the underbellies of the clouds, and the more distant farm houses and trees were little more than silhouettes. The train made as few stops as possible, only slowing to take on water and additional fuel.

  With so many people in the compartment, the smell of sweat grew stronger until Lawrence bellowed out an order for the boys to open their windows. His sudden shout startled me, and his eyes twinkled as he apologized through a smile at my jerking reaction.

  It was an exercise in discomfort, sitting in that car. The fresh evening air blew away the smell of sweat, and the lingering odor of roast beef. But it chilled me no matter how tightly I pulled my shawl about my shoulders.

  Some strands of my hair pulled free of the bun I'd put them in and lashed me about the cheeks and neck, or tickled at the tip of my nose. The vibration of the train started a dull ache in my thighs that wouldn't leave no matter how I stretched.