by Rosie Clarke
‘It is my job to know,’ he said. ‘Besides, you asked me to find him. I never go back on a promise, Emma. I always meant to tell you one day. I believed he might never recover his memory, and of course I couldn’t be absolutely sure it was him.’
‘But you are now?’
He nodded. ‘Quite sure.’
‘You say he is ill?’ The news was so distressing. My mouth felt dry and I could hardly breathe. ‘You said he needs hospital treatment. What is wrong with him, Jack?’
‘He was badly burned in the sabotage attack, apparently the bomb went off too soon and he got caught by the blast. One hand is useless, and the left side of his face is scarred … and he has a chest infection which makes him cough a lot. I understand that they thought he might die of an infection last winter, but somehow he pulled through. He must be a very tough customer, Emma.’
There was a grudging respect in Jack’s words.
‘I never realized he was that determined to hang on to life,’ I said. ‘I thought he might let go … and perhaps he did in a way. Perhaps losing his memory was Jon’s way of coping with all he went through.’
‘I have to go,’ Jack said, glancing at his watch. ‘I’m not sure that I shall see you again for some weeks …’
‘Oh, Jack …’ I felt the pain strike deep inside me. I knew what that meant. He would be going to France with the invasion force, whenever that happened. ‘What are we going to do? I’m Jon’s wife … I can’t desert him …’
Jack took two strides towards me, catching me up in his arms. For a moment he stared into my face, and his expression was so grim that I was almost afraid of this man – a man I scarcely knew.
‘You belong to me, Emma. You know that in your heart. You know you never loved Jon, not really – oh, as a friend, yes I don’t doubt your feelings for him were warm and tender – but you were never in love with him.’
‘No, I was never in love with him.’ I could not lie to Jack. He meant too much to me, was too much a part of me. ‘I’ve never felt this way about anyone else and I never will, Jack.’
‘You are not to worry about this,’ he told me fiercely. ‘If Jon is sent back before I can come to you, he will be in hospital. I very much doubt if he will ever come out. He couldn’t come home to you, Emma. He is too ill. He will probably always be an invalid, and I understand the scarring is pretty horrendous. You will have to get a divorce or an annulment or something. I’ll see to it when I come back.’
‘Jack, no … you don’t understand. I came to you because I believed Jon was dead. I can’t desert him … especially now. He will need help and love. I owe him that much at least.’
‘You owe him nothing,’ Jack said, and his eyes glittered with anger. ‘Listen to me, Emma. I’m not going to let you throw away your life. I won’t stand by and see you chained to a wreck of a man. We’ve so much to live for, my darling. I know this hurts you. I know it has been a shock, but by the time I come back, you will have thought it over. You will know how impossible it would be.
‘Oh, Jack …’
I clung to him as I kissed him, my whole body yearning for his. Perhaps he was right, I could not know. At this moment I wanted only to be with him, for things to be as they had been last summer. My dreams had been so sweet and I did not want to let go of them – and yet it would be so cruel to simply abandon Jon to the life of an institutionalized invalid.
How could I simply walk away with Jack and leave my husband?
‘I can’t leave him for you,’ I whispered. ‘I love you, Jack – but I have to stay with Jon. I have to …’
‘I love you, Emma,’ Jack said, and his voice throbbed with passion. ‘I’m never going to give you up. Make up your mind to it, Emma, because when I come back I’m not going to take no for an answer.’
His kiss seemed to drain the very life from me. When he walked out of the room, I felt myself sag and I almost fell, managing to stagger to the sofa where I collapsed in a heap.
Jon was alive. My gentle, loving husband, who had given me so much and loved me so tenderly, was alive, but very ill. How he must have suffered. I was wracked with guilt as I imagined his pain, his hours of fear and distress, as he tried in vain to remember even his own name.
How could I leave a man like that to waste away in a home for men who could no longer be a part of society? How could I desert him when he needed me so much? His first thought when he remembered who he was, was to ask that I be informed.
Jon needed me, and I was beginning to see that I would not be able to turn from that need.
‘Jon’s mother will have to be told, of course,’ Margaret said. ‘Or perhaps you should wait for confirmation that he has actually been sent home? Rather than raise false hopes …’
‘I thought I might go over and see her and Pops tomorrow. I think I ought to warn them that there is a possibility Jon may be coming home.’
‘Yes, I suppose that might be kinder.’ Margaret looked at me anxiously. ‘What will you do now, Emma?’
‘I’m not sure.’ The pain inside me was so intense that I could scarcely breathe let alone think clearly. ‘Jack believes Jon will need to be in hospital for the rest of his life, but I’m not sure. He would hate that. If there’s any chance at all of his coming out …’
‘Are you thinking of bringing him home here?’
‘Would you mind? I should need to get someone in to help care for him, of course.’
‘Of course I wouldn’t mind, Emma. I was afraid you might think it necessary to have a house of your own, and I should miss you and the children so very much.’
‘I would rather stay here if I may. It won’t be easy, looking after an invalid and the children … and I don’t want to give up my work.’
‘Are you sure this is what you really want to do? There are some very pleasant nursing homes where Jon could be cared for properly. You could visit him now and then …’
‘I couldn’t leave him in a hospital, not if he is able to come out, Margaret. You know what sort of a life he would have shut away … it doesn’t bear thinking about.’
‘What about Jack? I thought you might marry him after the war?’
‘It was our intention …’ My throat tightened. ‘I’m Jon’s wife, Margaret. How can I leave him now?’
‘I don’t know, my dear.’ She looked at me sadly. ‘It would be very difficult for you. But perhaps you need to be strong. I’m sure you believe the right thing would be to have Jon home, but it might not be – for you or him.’
‘How can it not be the right thing for him?’
‘It depends how bad the scarring is, Emma. It might be that if his injuries are too awful, he would not be able to bear life in the outside world. I believe you should wait before making your decision. Remember that what you do now will affect the rest of your life.’
Margaret’s wise words calmed me a little. I knew that I was going to have to make the most difficult choice of my life. Either I abandoned the man I had married – or I gave up the man I loved.
How could I bear to make such a choice?
I went to the social club that evening, because I was too restless to stay at home. I had expected to see Pam, but she wasn’t there. Another woman I hardly knew called Ellen had come in her place.
‘Where is Pam?’ I asked. ‘Is she ill? I’ve never known her to miss her turn before.’
‘Haven’t you heard?’ Ellen looked stricken. ‘Pamela is a friend of yours. I thought you must know – her husband was killed at sea a few days ago. She heard about it yesterday.’
‘Pam’s husband … Tom has been killed?’
She nodded. ‘I know. It’s awful. And just when it looks as if the war is nearly over.’
I couldn’t answer her. I was devastated by the news, reaching for the back of a chair as the room seemed to spin for a few seconds.
‘Are you all right, Emma?’
‘Yes …’ I lifted my head as the faintness cleared. ‘It was just the shock.’
I’d had
two shocks in one day and this last had left me feeling disorientated. But my own problems suddenly seemed to have shrunk beside Pam’s. Tom was all she had, apart from a sister she hardly ever saw, who was too busy to visit her often.
‘Could you manage here alone this evening?’ I asked. ‘I’m sorry, but I feel I ought to go round to Pam’s. She will be on her own, and I know what she must be going through.’
‘Yes, of course I’ll manage. It’s only a few sandwiches. You get off, Emma. It’s good to have a friend with you at times like these.’
I picked up my coat and bag and rushed out of the kitchen. As I went through the community room, I thought I heard someone call my name but I was so upset that I didn’t bother to look round.
It was only when I was sitting in the taxi taking me to Pam’s house that I realized the officer had used my first name. I vaguely recalled that he had been wearing an air force uniform, but I couldn’t think who he could be. No one who came to the club really knew me well enough to call me Emma.
I forgot the small mystery as I paid the taxi driver and rang Pam’s front door bell. It was a moment or two before sounds from inside indicated that someone was coming. When Pam opened the door, she looked terrible. Her hair couldn’t have been brushed all day, and her eyes had a terrible, blank staring expression.
‘Emma …’ She started to cry as she saw me, the tears slipping helplessly down her cheeks. ‘Oh, Emma, I’m so alone …’
I stepped into the hall and put my arms around her. She was shaking, as if she had been chilled right through.
‘It’s all right, Pam,’ I said, holding her until the fit of sobbing began to ease. ‘I’m here now, and I’m going to stay for a while. Come into the kitchen. I’ll make you a cup of tea.’
She stiffened, seeming to resist the move to the kitchen, then turned and led the way. It was cold. She hadn’t lit the old-fashioned range, and the remains of a meal were left on the table, a telegram lying amongst the debris. She must have been about to eat when the news came, and by the look of things she hadn’t eaten since.
I went to fill the kettle and light the gas stove. Then I saw the bottle of pills and a glass of water on a wooden draining board next to the stone sink. All the pills had been tipped out, as though she had intended to swallow every last one. I looked at the label and then at Pam in dismay as I realized what she had been about to do.
‘What are these?’
‘The doctor gave them to me to help me sleep. I thought if I took them all, then put my head in the gas oven …’
‘You were going to take them all, then turn the gas on? Oh, Pam … my dear …’
She sat down on a chair, her body slumped in defeat. ‘What’s the use of going on, Emma? Tom is dead … I shall never have a child. I might as well be dead. I’m no use to anyone.’
‘Of course you are!’
I felt chilled. Pam’s house had a terrible, empty atmosphere and was depressingly dark. If I hadn’t arrived when I did … she would have taken those pills, and to make quite certain would have gassed herself. If I’d left it until the morning, I would have been too late. I knew that I couldn’t leave her here alone. Not tonight. Not until she felt able to face things again.
‘Who needs me?’ she asked.
‘I need you,’ I said, improvising swiftly. ‘Nanny is finding it too much for her to cope with both James and Lizzy. I want you to move in with us, Pam. As a matter of fact, I may be needing your help in other ways very soon.’
‘What do you mean, Emma?’
‘My husband may be coming home. We all thought Jon was dead, but we were wrong. It isn’t certain yet what will happen – but he is very ill, Pam. I am not sure whether he will be able to leave hospital, but if he does he will need constant attention. I’m going to need someone like you – and I would rather it was you. A kind, generous person I know I can trust.’
‘Do you mean it?’ She was staring at me, and I could see the colour begin to return to her cheeks. ‘Live with you … be a part of your family?’
How lonely she must have been all the time Tom was away! And I had never realized it, never thought about why Pam was always ready to come into the club at a moment’s notice. I felt ashamed that it had taken me so long to make friends with her.
‘Would you come?’ I asked, kneeling down on the floor in front of her and taking her hand. ‘I’m going to need a good friend, Pam. Margaret is wonderful, but she couldn’t help me to nurse Jon. I know you would be good to him when I couldn’t be there – and James likes you. Please say you will. Please let me take you home with me now, this evening. I don’t want you to stay here alone.’
‘What will Mrs Gould say?’
‘Margaret likes you. Let’s go and pack a few things, Pam. You can come back and sort the house out when you’re feeling better.’
She hesitated for a moment, then smiled. ‘I’ve wanted to be your friend for a long time,’ she said. ‘Tom’s gone, Emma. Nothing will bring him back – but Jon is alive. Between us, we might be able to keep him that way.’
She stood up, and I could see a new determination about her as she led the way upstairs. For the moment she was blocking out the grief and despair that had almost driven her to take her own life. They would come back, of course, but now that she was no longer so alone, she would be able to bear them.
‘Another of your lame ducks?’ Sol was amused when he discovered he now had a permanent resident in the second-best guest room. ‘We have one more room to spare – any likely candidates?’
‘Oh, Sol!’ I cried, knowing that he was merely teasing me. ‘Pam isn’t a lame duck. She’s usually a very cheerful, capable woman. She will help look after the children – and Jon if we bring him home.’
‘Yes, you will need someone to help look after him,’ Sol agreed. ‘You won’t want to be tied to the house. I think you’ve done a good deed for yourself as well as Pam.’
I already knew that Sol was pleased at the idea of my bringing Jon home. The two men had always got on well together – and it would mean I would not be leaving London to go and live in America. Sol could not hide his satisfaction, despite knowing that I was having to make a choice that caused me pain. He did not want me to be unhappy, yet he did not want to lose me either.
My mother had surprised me by telling me straight out that I was doing the right thing. I had expected her to say I was a fool, that I should think of my own happiness, but instead she told me it was my duty to take care of my injured husband.
‘Jon has done his bit for us all,’ she declared roundly. ‘You owe him the chance to live a reasonably normal life. Besides, you are his wife. He has the right to expect your loyalty.’
‘Yes, I know. I do care for Jon …’
‘But you’re in love with Jack?’ She didn’t wait for my answer. ‘I know you’re giving up a lot, Emma, but I don’t think you have much choice. I don’t think you would be happy if you went away with Jack … not knowing that you had condemned your husband to life in an institution. You’re not made that way, love.’
In my heart, I knew Mum was right. I knew that I did not have a choice. I could not simply abandon Jon to his fate. That didn’t stop me hurting. It didn’t stop me weeping bitter tears into my pillow, or pacing the floor during the long lonely nights. It didn’t stop me wanting Jack, wanting to be in his arms.
I had made up my mind that I would bring Jon home if it was possible … but would I be strong enough to resist Jack when he came back to claim me as he inevitably would?
Mrs Reece began to cry as soon as I told her that there was a chance Jon might be coming home.
‘You mustn’t hope for too much,’ I said as she started up out of her chair, clearly excited. I hated to destroy her feeling of joy, but she had to know it all. ‘If he does come home he is going to be an invalid, perhaps for the rest of his life – and I have been told he is badly scarred.’
‘Who told you about him?’ Mrs Reece stared at me, her eyes a little wild as she sank
back in her chair. ‘How do you know he is still alive and in France?’
‘A friend of mine has been informed by British Intelligence. Jon has been cared for by nuns for some time now. After the crash, he didn’t know who he was. He had no idea of his own name until recently – that’s why no one informed us that he was alive before this. My friend said that he had been working with the French resistance until he was wounded so badly some months ago.’
‘Your friend …’ Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. ‘I suppose you mean that wealthy American. I’ve heard about you and him, Emma. You and your fancy man have been the talk of the social club more than once. I’ve scarce known where to put my face at times for the shame of it!’
Her voice was sharp with spite and bitterness. I knew she was close to hating me in that moment.
‘Dorothy!’ Pops warned her. ‘Please don’t talk to Emma like that. She believed that Jon was dead … we all did.’ He reached for my hand, his own trembling. ‘Just how bad is he, my dear?’
‘Very unwell,’ I said. ‘I wasn’t even sure whether I ought to tell you yet, Pops. Even if he comes home to this country he may never be well enough to leave hospital …’
‘And that will suit you, won’t it?’ Mrs Reece said, a cold, scornful note in her voice. ‘Then you can go swanning off to America with your fancy man and forget my poor boy.’
‘That isn’t my intention,’ I said, controlling my urge to snap back at her. ‘I’m sorry you think I have behaved badly, Mrs Reece. I did wait for quite a long time, but I couldn’t face the thought of living alone for the rest of my life …’
‘Are you thinking of having him home, Emma?’ Pops asked. ‘Where will you take him?’
‘He will come here, of course,’ Mrs Reece jumped in before I could answer. ‘This is his home. He should be here with his family.’
‘I have already made arrangements at home,’ I replied, keeping my voice level. ‘I have someone, a very nice woman, who will help me to care for Jon. I couldn’t manage him alone, naturally, and it would disrupt your household, Mrs Reece. Besides, I think Jon would prefer to come home to me, and I have no intention of living here. It just wouldn’t work. I’m sorry, but my mind is made up on that.’
