by Stacy Henrie
Still, a feeling of foreboding had been niggling at her all summer. Ada wasn’t sure if it was all the talk about possibly going to war or not, but she sensed a pivotal change coming and she feared it. She’d done her best to ignore the feeling, though some days she was more successful than others. Having Ned home these past four days had helped. It was hard to fathom what was happening elsewhere in the world when her own small one was full of contentment and peace.
“I saw it comin’ to this,” Thomas said with a shake of his head. “And while I don’t like Britain breathin’ down the necks of me Irish mates back home, I also know she can’t stand aside after Germany refused to leave Belgium alone.”
Ned nodded agreement. “I’m with you, Thomas. Will you enlist then?”
“Can’t say I haven’t thought of it, but the men at work are sayin’ we’re needed more at the motor factory than we are on a battlefield.” He shifted on the grass to look curiously at Ned. “What about you? Are you enlistin’?”
Ada nearly laughed aloud at the absurdity. Ned was no soldier. Why would he enter the conflict? Besides, she thought with a sudden shiver, she could never bear living apart as they’d done before being married.
“I’ve thought about it,” Ned said, casting a hesitant glance at Ada. “But I haven’t decided one way or the other.”
She barely managed to keep herself from gaping at him. He’d thought about enlisting? Without talking to her? The ominous feeling in the pit of her stomach flared to life, bringing with it icy panic. He wouldn’t leave her and Rosemary—he couldn’t.
Rising to her feet, she addressed Ned without looking at him. “I believe I’ll go start dinner. You and Rosemary come when you’re ready.”
“See you tomorrow, Ada,” Minnie said.
She nodded. Not even the look of compassion on her friend’s face brought her comfort at the moment. She got as far as the sidewalk before Ned caught up with her.
“Ada . . .” His cajoling tone only angered her.
Turning to face him, she folded her arms against the dread that threatened to consume her. “You promised, Ned. We both did—that we would work together. How is enlisting doing that?”
“I’ve only thought about enlisting. I wouldn’t go and do it without talking to you.”
She looked away. “You should have told me first.” She wasn’t sure which hurt more—that he’d been thinking about it at all or that she’d found out at the same time as their good friends.
“You’re right,” he said after a moment, his chin low. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, Ada.”
“Why even consider it? You don’t have to fight. At least not yet.” Hopefully never.
“I want to protect you and Rosie.” He reached out and took her hand in his. “To help protect our way of life here.”
“But it’s war, Ned.” She didn’t bother to disguise the pleading in her tone. “I don’t want to have to say goodbye; I don’t want you gone.”
“I don’t want to go,” he admitted in a low voice. His next words sent another shudder through her. “But if it’s right, Ada, I need to go.”
When he pulled her to him, she went. She shut her eyes and leaned into his touch. Was there anything she could say to persuade him differently? And if she did, was she breaking their promise to work together? For the first time in their marriage, she suddenly understood what Ned had felt whenever he longed to protect her from something. That’s what she wanted to do in this moment—to protect him and herself.
“Go enjoy your last evening on holiday,” she managed to say as she stepped back. “I’ll have dinner ready soon.”
He studied her with concern. “Are you certain?”
“Yes.” Tears rose into her throat, but she willed them back with a weak smile.
Giving her hand a squeeze, he turned back toward the grass. Ada headed for the flat at a brisk walk. She usually appreciated her time in the kitchen, her hands busy with the work they now knew so well, which allowed her mind time to think and ponder. But tonight, she wanted to silence her troubled thoughts and the awful premonition growing inside her that whispered this was only the beginning.
Chapter 8
Raindrops drummed against the bedroom window. The sound mingled with Rosemary’s soft snores from her small bed in the corner. Neither noise had kept Ada awake this long, though. She lay nestled beneath Ned’s arm, her hand resting against the front of his nightshirt. Through her palm, she felt the solid rhythm of his heartbeat. Ned had been a constant source of strength and comfort to her in her life.
And now he was leaving.
“Still awake?” he asked drowsily.
Ada nodded, wishing the decision he’d shared with her that evening had only been a bad dream. Four weeks had passed since the bank holiday, and Ned had been thinking and praying about his enlistment ever since. She’d almost convinced herself that his answer would be no, but the resolve in his blue eyes had grown more pronounced the last few days. That had been as much an answer as his words tonight.
Ned brushed the hair off her forehead and pressed a kiss to her skin. The gesture usually prompted hope inside her, but in this moment, it only elicited stinging tears.
“It’ll be all right, Ada.” He lifted her chin. “I’ll not be shipped off right away.”
“Why can’t you wait a little longer?” she countered in a fierce whisper.
He tightened his embrace. “I can’t stay out of it, love, not anymore. Not when Belgian citizens have been slaughtered.”
She wanted to argue further, to find some way to make him stay so he’d be safe. But her heart wouldn’t allow it. How could she refuse to let him go when mothers not so unlike herself had already lost children, homes, and their own way of life?
If only his work at the print shop would help the war effort as Thomas’s would. Minnie’s husband had been right—he was needed more here. Ada hadn’t been successful at fully squelching the envy she felt for he and Minnie.
“Mr. Silas promised me my job when I return.” Ned twisted on his side to face her. “He promised to look in on you and Rosie now and again too.”
Ada ran her fingers over the planes of his lips and the outline of his strong chin. How could she bear to be apart? She’d naively believed those three weeks she’d been away from him in Scotland had been hard. This time would be far worse. She had no way of knowing how long Ned would be gone or when he would come back to them.
“You and Rosie could go live with my mother,” he said. “Then you wouldn’t be on your own.”
Maud would gladly take them in, Ada knew, but she wasn’t sure she could manage living in the small cottage, both of them anxious for word from Ned. Besides, her mother-in-law lived much too close to Stonefield Hall. Ada had made tentative peace with her parents’ silence, especially after her decision not to write them anymore. But she didn’t relish the thought of being in such close proximity as she awaited the return of her husband, whom they’d never accepted.
“I think I’d like to stay here in our flat,” she admitted, feeling the truthfulness of her statement as she voiced it. “I can’t imagine not having Minnie nearby.”
The plucky redhead had become the sister Ada never had. She didn’t want to face the difficult task of having her husband fighting as a soldier without Minnie next door.
Ned kissed her fingertips. “I’m glad you’ll have Minnie and Thomas close by. I’ll worry less about you and Rosie knowing there’s someone here, if you have a need.”
Quiet settled over them again, save for the rain and Rosemary’s breathing. Ada tried to relax her mind in order to sleep, but dark thoughts threatened again. “Ned?”
“Hmm?”
“What if . . .” She pressed her lips together as the tears resurfaced, along with the now-familiar sense of foreboding. “You promise you’ll come back to us?”
Ned studied her a moment, then sat up. “I want to read you something.”
She willed back the tears and slid out of bed, as cu
rious as she was relieved for a distraction. After ensuring their daughter still slept, Ada joined Ned in the parlor. He turned on the light, picked up his Bible from the shelf, and took a seat in his favorite spot, the armchair.
“Come here,” he said gently, reaching out and pulling her onto his lap. This was Ada’s favorite spot to sit.
When she was situated, he opened the Bible. “I read a verse the other day that I wanted to share with you.” It wasn’t the first time he’d shared scriptures with her, either in answer to a question she had or when he read something he liked.
Ada rested her head on his shoulder as he began to read in a deep voice, “Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest.”
“Read it again,” she murmured. Ned obliged her request.
She liked the hopefulness in the words. But were they true?
“Do you believe what it says?” She fingered the lapel of his pajamas. “That God is with us—with you and me—wherever we go?”
He rubbed his thumb across her cheek. “Yes, I believe He’ll be with me and with you and Rosie.” Nudging her chin upward, he gazed tenderly at her. “What do you think, Ada? Do you believe it?”
She stared down at the open Bible, searching her heart for the answer. They both took turns praying at mealtimes now, and she found herself sometimes thinking prayers to God during the course of the day. But did she truly believe He was with her, that He knew and cared about her?
“I want to believe it, Ned,” she half whispered, her heart beating faster, “but is that enough? I feel so childish when it comes to matters of faith. You and Minnie know so much more than I do.”
Ned gathered her to him again. “Jesus counseled that we all become like little children.”
“In what way?”
He seemed to ponder that. “How do you think Rosie feels about us as her parents?”
“She loves us,” Ada answered with conviction.
“And trusts us?”
She nodded.
“Do we feel anger at her because she knows less than we do? Or less than say Janey or William?”
“No,” she said, understanding flooding her thoughts. “We know eventually she’ll learn all that she needs to as we keep teaching her and she keeps trusting us.”
She sensed Ned’s smile. “Exactly. God feels the same. He doesn’t compare you to anyone else. He knows you weren’t taught to trust or love Him as me and Minnie were. But that doesn’t mean He isn’t any less aware of you or loves you less, Ada. You’ve always been and will be His daughter.”
Warmth spread through her at his words. She might have lost contact with her earthly father, but she still had a Heavenly One who knew and loved her. And God would not abandon her.
“Do you think you can sleep now?” Ned asked, leaning his forehead to hers.
The question yanked her back to reality, eroding some of her peace. She pushed out a heavy sigh. “Hopefully.”
“I want to promise you that I’ll come back, Ada.” His tone held more grimness than she’d ever heard. “But we both know I can’t. I will promise I won’t stop loving you and I’ll remember you and Rosie every day I’m gone.”
She sat back so she could hold his face between her palms. “I promise to do the same.”
When she kissed him, she held nothing back, pouring all of her fears and wishes into the kiss. Ned responded with equal fervor, until it seemed as if nothing existed outside their flat and them. And Ada hoped it would be that way again one day very soon.
• • •
“Mummy, my legs are tired,” Rosemary complained, pulling back against Ada’s hand. “Can you carry me?”
Fighting impatience, Ada stopped walking and crouched beside her daughter. “You’re too big to carry, pet. I know your legs are tired, but we’ve run out of meat and need to get all the way to the butcher’s for more.” She stood, trying to think of something to get Rosemary’s mind off the walk ahead. “How about you give the boy the money when we buy our newspaper?”
“Oh, yes, Mummy.” Rosemary allowed Ada to propel her forward, happy once again.
She felt a twinge of guilt. While handing over the coin might be enjoyable to her daughter, the possibility of what lay inside the newspaper had the potential to obliterate their happiness.
Ever since Ned had left for France the month before, Ada had purchased as many newspapers as she could afford so she could check the casualty lists. Minnie didn’t think it healthy or hopeful to peruse them so often, but Ada wouldn’t be dissuaded. In an inexplicable way, she felt more in control of her fears when she checked to see that Ned’s name wasn’t listed than when she didn’t.
“There he is, Mummy.” Rosemary pointed at the newsboy, who was shouting, “Paper, paper. News, news.”
Ada pulled a coin from her purse for Rosemary. The little girl hurried over to the boy and presented him with the money. In return, he thrust a paper into her small hand. Ada took it from her. The names of places she’d never heard before this year—Marne, Aisne, and Antwerp—were mentioned on nearly every street in London these days.
She opened the paper to the casualty lists, her heart leaping into her throat as it always did in this moment. Ada quickly read through the H names. When she didn’t see “Henley” listed, she let herself relax, though she read through the names once more, just to be certain.
Closing the paper, she tucked it under her arm and steered Rosemary down the street. “We’ll be to the butcher’s soon.”
Was she nurturing her newly sprouted faith by checking the papers like this? The question poked at her, disrupting the relative calm she’d felt at not finding Ned’s name among the casualties. She led the prayers at mealtimes now and she’d begun praying every night for Ned’s safety too. And yet, her uncertainty and helplessness about the future wouldn’t leave her alone.
“Mummy?” Rosemary tugged on Ada’s hand a second time, her voice concerned.
She pushed her distressing thoughts aside. “The shop is right there, pet.”
“But, Mummy. Look over there . . .”
“I know you’re tired, pet,” she said, her impatience bleeding into her tone. “But all we have to do now is cross the street and we’ll—”
The shatter of glass pierced the air and cut off the rest of her words. Rosemary gave a frightened yelp. “What are they doing, Mummy?”
Ada stopped short as her gaze went to the butcher’s shop across the street. A group had formed in front of the building, where the front window now stood jagged and broken. She could see the door had been bashed in as well. As she watched, horrified, several men and a woman swarmed the shop before exiting with armfuls of meat.
“What happened to the window?” Rosemary asked.
“It-it’s broken, pet.”
Another woman stood nearby, watching the scene, one hand resting protectively against her collar. Ada walked toward her. “Do you know what’s going on at the butcher’s?”
“Isn’t just them,” the woman said, shaking her head. “The German-owned bakery round the corner was sacked and looted too.”
Her shock mounting, Ada glanced at the meat shop once more. The place appeared to have been stripped of its wares in a matter of minutes.
“It’s them refugees from Antwerp what started the trouble, though I doubt they meant to.” The woman turned toward Ada. “Lots of people round here are angry at Germany for what they done. Some of them refugees only have the clothes on their backs.”
“But surely the butcher wasn’t responsible . . .”
The woman shrugged. “If’n you’re angry or afraid, you aren’t stoppin’ to think who’s responsible, now are you?”
“Mummy, are we still going to buy our meat?”
Ada looked down at Rosemary. “Not from here, pet. We’ll have to go someplace else.” Before her daughter could let out another groan of protest, she changed her mind. She felt as tired as Rosemary at that moment.
“You know, I don’t think we’ll get meat after all. Let’s go home, Rosie.”
As she led her daughter away from the dreadful scene, Ada couldn’t help a backward glance. Where was the German family who owned the shop? Had they escaped unharmed? While she fostered some anger herself toward Germany, she liked to think she knew better than to take her resentment out on innocent people who didn’t even live in their native country anymore. She tightened her grip on Rosemary’s hand and quickened her steps, anxious to return to the safety of their flat.
“Were those people angry, Mummy?” Rosemary’s blue eyes, so like Ned’s, gazed innocently up at her. “The ones who broke that window and took the meat?”
“Yes, Rosie. They were angry and scared, but that doesn’t mean it’s all right to break into someone else’s shop and take something that wasn’t theirs.”
Her small mouth twisted into a perplexed frown. “Why were they scared?”
Ada paused. She wanted to give her daughter a satisfying answer without frightening her either. “Everyone gets scared now and then, pet. That’s just life. The trick, though, is not to let our fears take charge of us and tell us what we have to do.”
“Do you get scared, Mummy?”
She swallowed hard. Her guilt over buying the paper out of fear stung her as much as her daughter’s question. “Sometimes.”
“How come?” Rosemary asked, cocking her head.
What would Ned say? “Even mothers and fathers sometimes forget that when things are scary or don’t make sense, God is still with us.”
“And that helps you not feel scared.” Her daughter’s tone was matter-of-fact and full of trust.
When I remember it, pet. And she hadn’t been remembering. Not really. She’d been praying, but in some ways she was acting as much out of fear as the people who’d looted the butcher shop. Thankfully God had given her a reminder through Rosemary’s innocence. After all, even Ada was supposed to become like a little child.
