The Songbird and the Soldier

by Wendy Lou Jones

  Andy gently touched the thin strand of gold lying across her wrist. “I had to. I hope it’s okay?”

  Sam fought the urge to throw herself at his feet and beg for forgiveness. She didn’t know what had prompted him to come. He had not yet said anything to give her hope, but he was there. “As long as you haven’t come to tell me off. I’m not sure I’m up to that at the moment. I’m a bit under the weather.”

  Andy laughed and squeezed her hand. “If anyone deserves a telling off, it would be me.”

  Mr and Mrs Litton stood up. “We’ll leave you two to it for a bit, okay?”

  Sam nodded, grateful for the time alone. They looked back at each other and then Andy spoke. “I don’t know where to begin. I’ve thought about what to say to you over and over again, but now I’m actually here and you’re in front of me, I’m…”

  “I’m sorry,” Sam said.

  “No, don’t. I didn’t deserve you. I behaved so badly toward you. How can you ever forgive me?”

  Sam tried to sit herself up a little and Andy jumped up to try and help her. She rested back, exhausted. “You didn’t do anything.”

  Andy shook his head. “I know. That’s exactly it; I did nothing. All those letters you wrote to me… I never read them. Not one.”

  Sam was a little disappointed, but not surprised. “Yes. I guessed as much. Probably for the best. They were a load of rubbish anyway.”

  “No. You’re wrong. I read them last night. All of them. I read them all twice over, some of them more. I was a fool, Sam. I realise that now.”

  “What made you read them after all this time?”

  “Kate. She finally managed to knock some sense into me. I’ve been too wrapped up in my own problems to see clearly.”

  Sam smiled. “I know. The lengths a person has to go to to get any attention round here. It’s ridiculous.”

  Andy shook his head in dismay. “I’m so sorry.”

  “You’re here now.” She squeezed his strong, warm hand. “A bit late, maybe, but…”

  “Yeah, well you know how it is, I’ve been busy.” His face fell serious again. “How did you do it, Sam? All that time with no reply. How did you find the strength to keep writing?”

  Sam thought for a second. “I had to show you I wasn’t going to give up on you again, even if I heard nothing. I had to prove it to myself, really. I just hoped that one day you would see that and understand.” A tear welled up in her eye and trickled down her cheek to the pillow beneath.

  “Shhh. Don’t cry. I can’t bear to see you cry.” He wiped the tear away. “I’ve missed you so much, Sam. I can’t think how I managed without you all this time.”

  “You did just fine. The returning hero, remember?”

  Andy gave her a look. “No. Tina was right all along: I wasn’t really living.”

  Sam smiled warmly at him. She understood what he meant. She had suffered along with him. “How have you been, really?”

  Andy leaned down and knocked on his artificial leg. “Well I’m not up for any marathons yet, but I’m getting there.”

  “And everything else?” she asked, pointing to the scars on his face and arm.

  “Well, yes, the modelling career does seem to have dried up, but I get by. I think my days as a gigolo are over, though.” He winked.

  “Oh, I don’t know. I’m sure there are plenty of women-”

  “I don’t want any other women.” Andy looked at her for a long moment and then leaned slowly down to her and kissed her. Tears began to well up and flow down Sam’s face again, the relief she felt at the emotional reunion had a dramatic effect on her delicate state.

  “Oh, God, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”

  Sam smiled. “No. No. I’m glad you did. I’m just tired, I’m sorry. I get tearful very easily at the moment.”

  “Should I go? Would that be for the best?” Andy asked.

  “Don’t you dare.” Sam held on to his hand with all of her strength.

  “There’s been so much wasted time, Sam. Tell me if it’s too late, but I would really love to see you again. I promise I won’t let you down.” He pulled her picture out from his wallet. “Look. Kate gave me this.”

  Sam looked at the picture and smiled at baby Ellen. “I looked a bit better then. I’m not in such great shape now. Are you sure you wouldn’t like to reconsider?”

  Andy shook his head. “You look great to me. I… I love you, Sam. I always have. It’s as simple as that. You came to me when I was going through Hell and I turned you away.” Sam opened her mouth to object, but Andy stopped her. “Let me love you, please.”

  Sam was in heaven. She had no right to be there, but she was nonetheless. “I’m not in Hell,” she said. “Not anymore.”

  Andy stroked her wrist. “I mean it, Sam. I want to be with you.” Sam held out her arms for a hug and Andy went willingly. He sat back. “So, how’s the food in here?” he asked.

  Sam was relieved at the ease with which they had seemingly slipped back into each other’s lives and it was still hard to believe after all they had been through. They talked a little about Andy’s recovery and kept to the lighter side of their days spent alone, then before they knew it, Sam’s parents were back and their time was over.

  Andy looked as his watch and then at Sam’s parents, not moving an inch from Sam’s side. The two of them smiled back at him. Andy turned to look at Sam. “You never did tell me your middle name,” she said, leaving him in no doubt that she was definitely expecting satisfaction.

  He leant back down again. “Peter,” he said.

  Sam was confused. “Peter? Is that it? Really? But why all the mystery?”

  Andy smiled. “It kept you writing.”

  Sam chuckled. God, she loved this man. She was very reluctant to let him go. She implored him to stay with her eyes, but Andy smiled down at her, kissed her on the forehead and withdrew his hand. “I’d better go, or they may not let me back in tomorrow.”

  These words were great comfort to Sam. He would be back tomorrow. He had to go, but he was coming back. She looked at his face for the reassurance she needed and Andy leant down to kiss her again. His lips hovered near her face. “I’ll see you tomorrow, beautiful,” he said.

  Sam nodded and he walked around the bed, pausing briefly to say goodbye to Sam’s parents by the door and then looking back at Sam, he winked and then walked away. Sam was exhausted, but happier than she had been in a long time. He had said that he loved her. After everything that had happened, he still loved her. And after saying goodbye to her parents until later that evening, Sam slipped off into a peaceful sleep.

  Andy stepped outside into blazing sunshine and walked for almost an hour, not caring where he went. He would not be caged in such an emotional state and the day was dry and warm and crammed full of promise. Only when he was at ease with himself did he find his way back to the hospital and his black and red bike and cycled home. There was much to do and Kate deserved to be told.

  Kate was out when Andy arrived back home, so he got changed into his sports gear and went round to the gym to work out. He worked harder than usual in the hope that he could take his mind off Sam’s plight for a short while, but all it achieved was exhaustion and further frustration.

  Dean walked in and sat down at one of the benches. The two regarded each other with cool disdain. Dean began to pull on the weights as Andy sat there, a towel slung round his neck, drinking water from a bottle and catching his breath. Minutes passed before Dean finally showed his colours. “How’s the love life then, Prof?”

  Andy’s body suddenly found sharp focus for his anger. He launched himself from where he was sitting, not giving a thought to his new leg, and pummelled the tormentor in front of him. Fists slammed into flesh and bone as splatters of blood flew out from the fray. It wasn’t more than a couple of minutes before the fight was broken up by some other lads who wandered in and found the two trying to kill each other. Dean started to spit fire at Andy for being out of his mind, but Andy jus
t wrenched himself free and stormed out to cool off.

  The following evening Andy was back at Sam’s side. The weather was warm and still, but high up in her room, the curtains found a delicate breeze and danced happily with it. Apologies were no longer wanted from either side. They talked about their friends, about Kate and Ellen and about how much Humphrey was enjoying being spoiled by Sam’s mum’s neighbour. They even discussed the poetry Sam had read and her favourite parts. Sam asked Andy what had happened to cause such a nasty bruise at the corner of his left eye, but he told her it was just a low signpost he had walked into. She did not know of the many sores and bruising that went unseen beneath the veil of his clothing, of the pain that ceased to bother him when he was with her.

  Kate turned up, but not for long. She had cadged a lift in with a friend, who was kindly sitting in the car park watching Ellen while she popped up to see Sam. Kate was pleased to see Sam looking happier, even if she did still look incredibly frail. She winked at Andy on her way out. He opened the door for her and she mouthed a ‘thank you’ to him. Andy stopped her with his hand. “No. Thank you,” he said and a look of understanding passed between them. Kate smiled and walked away.

  The following day, Sam took a turn for the worse. Her breathing had been a problem all day and by mid-afternoon she was fitted with some nasal specs for oxygen. More drugs were added to her long list of medicines and her parents stayed close by her side.

  Sam watched the clock. She knew Andy would be coming in at some point and as the afternoon visiting had already been and gone, it couldn’t be that much longer before he would be with her.

  She was frightened. She could take the pain and discomfort that she was having thrown at her on a daily basis, but her breathing was not good and she knew it. If only Andy would come, she thought, she could face anything. His strength buoyed her up. Her parents, she could see, were as scared as she was, but they were valiantly doing their best to hide it. She concentrated on the pattern on the curtain opposite. It was pale blue, like the bedding, with a pattern of leaves running through it. She tried to focus on calm, regular breaths, but it felt like she really needed to take a deep breath and she couldn’t. Just a little more time, she thought. ‘Come on, Andy, I need you.’

  And then he came.

  Mr Litton greeted Andy at the door and whispered to him. Andy looked across and Sam tried her best to smile. He smiled back and she held out a hand and patted the bed. Andy nodded to Mr Litton and walked around the bed to sit down. He took her hand and held it in his. He kissed it and then looked into her eyes.

  “Hello, Beautiful. Are you misbehaving again?” he said.

  Sam wanted to cry out with joy. The fear that had built up inside her throughout the day brimmed over and the relief of seeing him again forced a solitary tear to trickle down her cheek.

  “Shhh. I’m here now. I won’t let anything happen to you.” He smiled a gentle smile and wiped the tear from her face. Mr and Mrs Litton did not leave the room that day and so Andy just talked to Sam softly, as best he could, and helped her to drink her water little and often as the oxygen made her throat dry.

  “What’s it like out there?” she asked when they had come to a pause in the conversation.

  Andy looked out of the window. “It’s a warm summer’s evening,” he said. “Park weather. I think we’re going to have a good summer this year. I’ll take you outside when you’re a bit better. They tell me there is a little garden here somewhere.”

  Sam was exhausted. The thought of a stroll through their park on a warm summer’s evening was wonderful, but she was too tired to even imagine it now. The golden sunlight stretched across her pillow and warmed her weary face. She smiled up at Andy and closed her eyes. “Keep talking,” she said. “I am listening.”

  Andy looked across at her parents and then back at Sam. He hesitated for a moment and then holding her hand in his, he began to stroke the delicate skin over her knuckles with his thumb and he began again.

  “When you’re better I’m going to pick you up around eleven and we can cycle to your old park on our bikes – Yes, I have one too now. You didn’t know that, did you? It’s good for me apparently. The sun is going to shine down on us as we park up our bikes and lift Humphrey out of your basket and plop him down on the ground. He’ll bark at all the butterflies as usual, the silly old mutt, and run round and round while we set out a blanket on the ground for a picnic. We’ll drink old fashioned lemonade and there’ll be fresh strawberries and soft bread rolls with paté. The ducks will be basking on the banks of the pond, their heads folded under their wings and the warm air will be filled with the sound of the bees buzzing lazily around us. We will eat good food and drink until we’re no longer thirsty and I will hold you in my arms and promise you that I’ll never let you go again and you will look at me with your beautiful smiling eyes and promise me that you will always be mine.”

  Sam’s hand fell heavy in his and Andy stopped talking. Sam did not move. He opened his hand and her hand did nothing to retain it. He looked across at Sam’s mother, concern flooding his features. Mrs Litton stepped towards the bed and saw Sam was breathing steadily and her colour was good. She put a hand on his shoulder. “She’s worn out, Andy. Let her sleep a while. It’s been tough on her today.” So he stayed with her as long as he could, holding her hand in his, but she did not wake up again and so with his spirit crushed, he left her in the care of her parents that night and walked out of the hospital and into the rain on that beautiful summer evening.

  The next afternoon, Andy got a call from a tearful Kate. Sam’s health had worsened. Kate had been at the hospital visiting when it happened. Her parents had asked her to call him.

  Despite his leg, Andy fairly sprinted up to the ward, taking the stairs two at a time, only slowing as he neared the doors. Sam’s parents were with her, one either side of her bed, their faces drawn and pale. Fear clutched at his heart. He knocked on the door, more gently than usual. Mr Litton looked up and beckoned him in.

  Andy walked slowly inside and stood at the back of the room, afraid to move closer. Mrs Litton’s eyes were red-rimmed and frightened. He pulled a chair to the bed and sat down. Mr Litton caught his eye for a moment, but obviously could not trust himself to speak. Andy turned to look at the woman he loved, lying unconscious in the bed, only her labouring chest showing any sign of life. He looked at the harrowed faces of those who loved her and it was more than he could bear.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, bolting for the door as panic gripped him.

  Mr Litton looked across at his wife and got up to follow him out. He found Andy a short way along the corridor, his back pressed hard against a wall and his teeth clenched. His eyes glistened with unshed tears. Mr Litton put his hand on Andy’s shoulder. “Follow me,” he said.

  Andy followed him into the day room where one of the nurses was tidying up. She smiled and then took one look at their faces and immediately excused herself.

  “They’ve tried all they can,” Mr Litton said, the effort clearly visible on his face. He took a deep breath. “It’s not good, I’m afraid.”

  Andy was in Hell. He was finally with the love of his life and she was being ripped away from him before her time. This was not the way it was supposed to be. If anyone was meant to check out before their time it was him. He was the one putting his life on the line in dangerous places. It was meant to be her facing the possibility of life without him, not the other way around. Why hadn’t he died in Afghanistan? She would have found someone new, someone who would have taken care of her and listened when she told him about her fears. She could have been saved and he…? He would not be facing the possibility of life without the woman who meant everything to him; the woman he loved. His eyes filled with tears, but he wiped them away as quickly as they appeared. He shook his head. “It’s all so wrong. It’s so bloody unfair.”

  “You were the last to speak to her,” Mr Litton said and Andy looked up. “She never regained consciousness again after you made
her smile, telling her about your picnic in the park.” He patted Andy on the shoulder. “We’ll be in there with her when you’re ready.”

  Alone, Andy slumped down into a seat and held his head in his hands. He sat for a few minutes like that, until he found the strength to hold his head up and pull himself together. She was still there for now and if he had anything to do with it, she was going to stay there. She was going to fight for her life, for his sake, if not her own. He stood up and braced himself. “Right,” he said and walked purposefully back around the corner and in to where Sam needed him.

  For a long time he sat there saying nothing. No nurse came to hurry them along at the end of visiting time. Sam was in a room on her own and he supposed the nurses were allowed to bend the rules in cases such as this, and for that he was grateful. After a while, Sam’s parents started to ask Andy about the time he had spent with Sam and he was pleased to be able to explain to them all that their daughter had meant to him. He asked them too about her childhood and learned a little more about the woman they all loved so much.

  As the evening drew in, Andy asked Mrs Litton if she minded him staying with her. There was a grave anticipation among the staff and he couldn’t bear to leave her in case that time left with her was all he got. Mr and Mrs Litton seemed to see the pain behind his eyes and agreed to his presence in their vigil overnight.

  Andy made sure Sam’s parents were as comfortable as they could be and made the best of what seating was left. He had managed to sleep in far worse conditions than this and he doubted very much if sleep was going to find him that night anyway. A nurse came in to check on Sam’s condition every once in a while, but there was little change for the better, and so the night dragged on.