Beyond the Shadow of War

by Diane Moody

  He stopped chewing, glancing down at the mound of the mayonnaise-based sauce alongside his battered cod. With his mouth still full, he gave her a sheepish grin. “Point well taken.”

  “Personally, I prefer them without. Or patat zonder mayonaise.”

  “Interesting. I never knew them as anything but French fries until I read A Tale of Two Cities when I was in high school. Dickens called them ‘husky chips of potatoes fried with some reluctant drops of oil.’”

  Anya set down her fork. “How do you do that? How in the world can you remember something you read when in high school? I hardly remember a thing from school.”

  “I don’t either, for the most part. Mine is more of a junk brain, so maybe it’s the peculiar wording Dickens used. Maybe that’s what stuck with me all these years later. Think about it‌—‌ ‘potatoes fried with reluctant drops of oil.’ Who but Charles Dickens would come up with that? How can oil be reluctant?”

  Anya smiled. “I see your point. But I could also ask, who but you would remember such a trivial thing? I remember how Hans used to read me some of the things you wrote about.”

  “He did?”

  “We used to laugh so hard at—”

  “What? Why?” he balked. “What was so funny?”

  “I would have to say my favorite was in the first letter you wrote him when your teacher made the assignment to write a pen pal in a foreign country.”

  “You have no idea how much I dreaded that. I put it off as long as I could, until I realized I might get stuck writing a girl if I didn’t hurry up and choose a name off Mr. Chesterton’s list. That’s when I picked Hans Versteeg. I thought it was the strangest name‌—‌Versteeg.”

  Anya lost herself in the memory. “He read me that letter the day he got it. He must have read it twenty times that first day.”

  “Okay, but what was so funny about it? As I recall it was pretty short. I didn’t have a clue what to say to some kid on the other side of the world.”

  Anya pushed her plate aside. “Mostly, you rattled on about Chicago and those Cubs you love so much.”

  “No surprise there.”

  “Then you asked a lot of questions about The Netherlands and our windmills‌—‌things you were familiar with. But at the end, I remember you asking if Hans could speak English. You said you hoped so or your ‘grade would be in the toilet.’ We laughed so hard.”

  Danny chuckled at the memory. “Oh yeah, I did say that, didn’t I? Well, I’m glad I was able to give the two of you a few laughs.”

  The smile remained on her face. “It’s odd, isn’t it? To think we’re here now because of that first letter? It seems a lifetime ago. We were but children then.”

  He reached for her hand. “Those are good memories, Anya. I’m glad we share them, even if we were half a world apart.”

  “Yes. Good memories. Happier times.”

  She nibbled on another fry. “It’s strange, everything so different. Like food. So different from what I grew up eating. What about you? What kind of food does your mother make?”

  An easy smile warmed his face. “She makes the most incredible fried chicken you’ve ever tasted. Crispy on the outside, juicy on the inside. And a pot roast that’ll knock your socks off. And her biscuits?” He closed his eyes. “I mean, I’ve dreamed about those biscuits. They practically melt inside your mouth.”

  As he carried on, Anya’s mind wandered down an unexpected path. She’d done her best to put aside any thoughts of life in America knowing it would only cause more worry. But she knew the time was coming soon when she’d meet his family, and most likely live with them until they could afford a place of their own. Such thoughts always tightened a knot in her stomach.

  “Anya? Are you all right?”

  She nodded, wishing away the intrusive thoughts.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.” She took a sip of tea, avoiding his eyes. She ate a couple more bites of fish, struggling to eat any more but keenly aware that he was watching her. “The sun will set soon. Do you think we might take a walk out on the beach when we’re through here?”

  “Sounds great.”

  A few minutes later, they left the pub. The breeze was cooler, and the sky had finally cleared with only a few clouds drifting over the water. Danny tucked Anya under his arm as they crossed the road and stepped onto the beach. She stopped, looking down at her feet.

  “What is this? I thought beaches were made of sand.”

  “It’s called a shingle beach,” he said. “It’s made of pebbles instead of sand.”

  She looked up at him. “They have these in America?”

  “I don’t think so. Why?”

  “Then how did you know what it’s called?”

  “I read about it in the brochure while you were getting dressed for dinner.”

  “I should have known.”

  They continued walking toward the water, feeling the crunch of pebbles beneath their feet. “I have to say I prefer a sandy beach,” he continued, “but there’s a certain charm about these.”

  “It feels so strange. I’m not sure I could go barefoot on this.”

  “There’s a shelter over there. Let’s go sit and watch the sun set.”

  As they settled into the wooden structure shielded on three sides, Danny pulled Anya close beside him. “This is nice, isn’t it?”

  She nodded, taking a deep breath of the salty air as the breeze lifted her hair and danced it about. He leaned his head against hers.

  “I love you, Anya.” His long contented sigh warmed the side of her face. “I’m not sure I’ve said it enough. I never once heard my dad tell Mom he loved her, and I don’t want a single day to go by without telling you.”

  She relaxed, nestling her head against the crook of his neck. “I love you, too.”

  They sat quietly watching the streaks of color splash from the west toward the water, changing before their eyes. The lingering clouds gradually transformed to a breathtaking palette of pinks, oranges, and purples, each shade deepening as they watched.

  “I just realized something.”

  “What’s that?” she said quietly.

  “Look at that sky. See all those colors?”

  “Yes?”

  “It just dawned on me that without those clouds up there, we wouldn’t see all those colors. The clouds give them a backdrop. A clear sky can’t reflect color.”

  “I guess you’re right. I never thought about it.”

  “Neither have I until now. But think about it. Without the clouds, the sunset would be rather boring.” He leaned down, turning her chin to face him. “And without the clouds in our lives, we’d never see all those colors. It’s not like we welcome the clouds into our lives‌—‌why would we? But the fact remains, once we’ve endured them … once we’ve survived those darkest clouds, we have an entirely new backdrop. A new perspective to our lives. We can appreciate the simple fact we survived. We’re forever changed; of course we are. But the depth has added a dimension to our character that we would never have known, had we not survived the dark clouds in our lives.”

  Anya said nothing, trying to comprehend his meaning. She hoped he wasn’t suggesting she should somehow appreciate all the heartache and sorrows of the past five years. That would be ludicrous. Surely he was just trying to sound poetic and philosophical in his own silly way.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey what?”

  He shifted to face her. “You’re so quiet. Did I say something wrong?”

  “I don’t know. Did you?” She couldn’t help notice the concern pinching a crease between his brows.

  “Anya?”

  “Yes?”

  “I wasn’t suggesting that you‌—‌”

  “Good. I’m glad.” She straightened, turning to look back at the sunset, not quite trusting herself to say more.

  “If I said something wrong, it was unintentional.”

  She nodded, her eyes following a seagull floating in the breeze just beyond the
m, perfectly still aloft some invisible air current. Then, just beyond it, as her eyes focused on the stunning sunset, she tamped down her insecurities, took a deep breath, and slowly blew it out.

  “Ah, don’t listen to me,” he said, wrapping his arms around her again. “I’m just a blubbering fool in love on a pebbled beach in England.”

  “Yes, I believe you are.”

  “Just say you’ll always love me, even when my foot is permanently lodged in my mouth.”

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  10

  Over the next day and a half, Danny and Anya relaxed in the charming seaside town, thankful for the slower pace and the simple pleasure of being together. They climbed the steps to the highest point in town and enjoyed the view of both town and sea. They visited the Aldeburgh Parish Church of Saint Peter and Paul, surprised how similar its interior design was to the Framlingham church where they married. Behind it, they wandered through the ancient graveyard filled with crooked and crumbling tombstones dating back to the seventeenth century.

  “Look at this one, Anya.”

  Here lyeth the body of Thomas Cornwaleys gent

  who married Y sole daughter of Rich Farnsworth of Halesworth gent

  and by her had Yssve 3 sonnes & 2 daughers.

  He dyed Y 23th of Decem 1664.

  “I wonder why his wife’s name isn’t included,” she said.

  “I don’t know, but if you ask me their spelling is atrocious,” he teased with a smirk. “Must not’ve had any dictionaries on hand back then.”

  Anya rolled her eyes and punched him playfully. “It’s almost three hundred years old, Danny. I’m sure the language was much different then.”

  “Look at this one over here.”

  In memory of Richard Longsworth

  who departed this life on April 12th in the 45th year of his life.

  Behold my friend as you pass by, as you are now, so once was I:

  as I am now, so you must be, prepare for death and follow me.

  “Rather bleak, isn’t it?” she said.

  “Yes, it is. Oh, look at this one. It has only one word‌—‌Baby. How odd.”

  “It’s so old the rest of the engraving must have worn off through the years.”

  “I suppose.” Anya laced her fingers with his. “It’s so sad.”

  Danny squeezed her hand and tugged her along. They’d never talked about someday having children, but a baby’s gravestone was hardly the place to have such a conversation. Still, he wondered again what their life together would look like if they’d met under different circumstances. If they’d met at school, or at a party like others. It was useless to spend time with such thoughts, but he couldn’t help wondering if they would ever be free from all the sadness. He sure hoped so.

  They visited shops selling seashells and handmade jewelry, hand-carved replicas of the historic buildings, and frequented the little bakery that served delightful cookies called chocolate digestives. The malty confection dipped in milk chocolate reminded Danny of a graham cracker. They bought two extra tins to take back with them.

  Early the next morning, Danny and Anya took one last walk on the pebbled beach among the tiny boats pulled ashore, and the long rows of beachside villas, beautifully painted in a wide assortment of pastels.

  Anya paused to look out across the water. “It’s so beautiful here, I hate to leave. Seems like we just got here, doesn’t it?”

  “I was just thinking the same thing.” He stopped and stood behind her, circling his arms around her shoulders, and resting his head atop hers. He loved the way they always fit together; loved the way he towered over her as if he’d been designed for the sole purpose of protecting her. He cherished the moment, wishing it didn’t have to end.

  “Do most people take long trips for their honeymoons?”

  “They do in America. At least they did before the war. How about we plan on taking a real honeymoon once we get home? We could go somewhere special, like Niagara Falls, or maybe we could go to a real beach somewhere and squish sand between our toes. How does that sound?”

  She nodded but didn’t answer.

  “Anya?”

  She turned to look up at him. “Yes?”

  “Are you okay? Did I say something wrong again?”

  “No, not at all. It’s just that …”

  “It’s just what?”

  She studied his eyes for a moment, then quietly whispered, “I’m still a little nervous about everything. And I hate feeling this way, like … ”

  He brushed aside a strand of hair from her forehead. “Like what?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t want to ruin what little time we have left with any more of my silly worries.”

  “They aren’t silly to me.”

  She glanced away. “I’m trying. Truly I am. It’s just difficult for me to think of America as ‘going home’.” She looked up at him again. “But if I’m honest, it’s not just about the idea of living somewhere so far away from my homeland. It’s how I’ll be going there. And when.”

  He couldn’t avoid her eyes this time when the subject came up. He’d put it off as long as he could, but as her blue-gray eyes searched his, he knew it was time.

  He smiled. “I suppose it’s been the elephant in the room since we left Framlingham. No use putting it off any longer.”

  “What do you mean? What elephant?”

  He chuckled. “You’ve never heard that expression before?”

  “No. What does it mean?”

  “Well, if we were back in our room at the inn, imagine an elephant standing right in the middle of the room. It would be impossible not to notice, right? So the expression refers to something rather obvious that, for whatever reason, we’re avoiding. Like talking about how you’ll get to America.”

  Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Oh.”

  “To be honest, I haven’t looked into it yet. I didn’t want to jump that far ahead because …” he paused with a sheepish grin, “well, if you must know, I wasn’t sure you’d show up at the church to marry me.”

  “What? Why? Did you think I would change my mind?”

  “The thought crossed my mind.”

  Anya placed her palms against his chest. “I would never have done that to you. I won’t pretend I didn’t have some second thoughts. But Sophie assured me that was perfectly normal.”

  “Good for her. Remind me to thank her when we get back.”

  Her eyes glistened. “You’re all I’ve got now, Danny. Without you, I might never have gotten up off that dirty floor at home.”

  He took a deep breath and pulled her closer in his arms. “Then hear me when I say that I’ll do everything I can to work all this out, getting you to America. Even if we can’t go together, I’ll pester them day and night to get you all the way to Chicago as soon as possible. Fair enough?”

  She sighed with a sad smile. “I guess that means I won’t be riding with you in one of those B-17s?”

  “Pretty sure that won’t be happening.” He kissed her gently, softly. Then, pulling back he said, “But thanks for not fretting about it these last few days. Or at least not obsessing over it, especially after Sybil brought up the subject.”

  “Yes. I think perhaps that elephant has been with us ever since.”

  He kissed her again, tightening his embrace.

  “Danny, it just occurred to me. When we get back to Framlingham, will you have to stay on base or can you stay with me at the pub now that we’re married?”

  Danny blinked. “Oh, I’ll be staying with you at the pub,” he asserted. “Wild horses couldn’t keep me away.”

  “Horses?”

  “Never mind.”

  15 June 1945

  The short bus ride to Framlingham marked the end of their honeymoon. Anya spotted Sophie and Charlie standing beside Patrick’s automobile in the parking area. As they stepped off the bus, Anya waved, thinking Charlie had seen them. Instead, he turned to say something to Sophie. Neither of
them looked happy.

  Danny joined her on the pavement, carrying both their bags. He followed Anya’s gaze to the parking lot. “Whoa. I wonder what’s going on.”

  Something churned in Anya’s stomach as she watched the agitated conversation between their friends. “I was just wondering the same thing.”

  As they neared their friends, Sophie looked up and smiled. Anya hoped it was a good sign.

  She gave Anya a hug. “Hello! How was your trip?”

  “It was wonderful,” she said as brightly as she could.

  “Welcome back, buddy,” Charlie said, giving Danny a hearty handshake. “Although it sure seems like we just put the two of you on that train for London.”

  “I had the same thought.”

  A few moments later, they settled into the car. “So? How was it?” Sophie asked.

  Danny and Anya looked at each other and smiled. “It was great. Really great,” he said with a chuckle.

  “Yes?” Sophie said, her eyes locked on Anya. “You had fun? Lots and lots of fun?”

  “Yes, it was wonderful. London is such a beautiful city‌—‌or was, I should say. It’s been terribly damaged, of course, but we were able to see Buckingham Palace, and even caught a glimpse of the king and queen as they passed by in a motorcade and‌—‌”

  “And?” Sophie asked.

  Anya stopped, glancing back and forth between Sophie and Danny. “And we visited St. Paul’s Cathedral‌—‌”

  “And?”

  “Sophie, let Anya speak, won’t you?” Charlie teased.

  Anya pinned Danny with a look of desperation.

  “Oh! Yeah, it was great,” he said. “Then, we took the train to Aldeburgh. Beautiful little seaside fishing town. Much more relaxing. We should have spent our whole honeymoon there.”

  “Isn’t it lovely?” Sophie said.

  “What’s happening at the 390th?” Danny asked. “Have I missed anything?”

  A look passed between Sophie and Charlie before he spoke. “Oh, you know, just a lot of grunt work getting the base ready to close down.”

  Another look flittered between them.

  Then a look passed between Anya and Danny.

  “All right, Charlie, what is it? What’s going on?” Danny asked.