The exhaustion, and the fear that something similar could happen to Robert had me feeling raw and vulnerable all over again.
“Oh poor baby,” Angel crooned as she rocked me tenderly. “No wonder you came out here, you wanted to try and save somebody, anybody right?”
I knew she didn’t expect me to answer, but as I sobbed I knew she was right and it hadn’t ever occurred to me, not really. Yet my actions in light of everything made sense; I had become a doctor, travelled halfway around the globe to try and save lives, near the place where my dad had died—but the life that I so desperately needed to save was my daddy’s, and that could never be, he was gone… and now, I’d let someone else into my heart, and he would be gone too soon enough.
“Now, I am going to make you a nice cup of tea as the Brit’s say, and then you are going to sleep. After that I am going to arrange for you to go home and spend some time with your mom.”
Angel squeezed my shoulder and went to search for our mugs.
“I can’t go home, I’m not done here! I can’t let him down,” I said with fury, as angry and hurt as a toddler who was denied their own way.
“No, you aren’t done. That I can count on. I’m not banishing you, Penny. I need you back here as soon as possible—but we all have to take a break from being here every now and again. Now is your time to go. Recharge, come back firing on all cylinders. Go back home, even if it’s just for a short while; give yourself a proper time to grieve. And I’m sure, if it’s meant to be between you and soldier boy, then love will find a way to put you together again.”
After a few minutes she returned with two cups of sweet English tea. I reluctantly took the mug, taking slow sips, allowing its soothing effects to wash over me. Tomorrow morning, I vowed to seek Robert out and finish what we’d started. I’d tell him everything I’d bottled up, everything I’d failed for lack of courage to explain to him before. I knew I didn’t want what was between us to only end up being a fling, I needed more.
And tomorrow I wouldn’t be afraid to tell him that, regardless of how little time we had left in this place together.
“He’s gone? What do you mean he’s gone? He can’t be… I saw him last night.”
Second Lieutenant Latimer looked at me like I was raving mad. Like I was a jilted lover after a one night stand, who’d read more into the fling than I should’ve. But he hadn’t heard what Robert had said to me. He hadn’t been in the room when Robert had told me he wanted me… really liked me. It had been me that had pushed him away.
You foolish girl!
Then I remembered the tail end of our conversation after my shower. Mark had appeared to collect Robert, for reasons I knew not why.
“How long will he be? He’s coming back to base, right?” I asked trying to keep pace with him as he hurried towards the surgical tent.
“Wouldn’t rightly know. They don’t exactly tell us much either.”
“But where is he?” I implored, blocking his access to the door.
“Classified, I’m afraid.”
I let out a frustrated cry but didn’t let him pass. “Please, just tell me something. Anything. Is he still in the bloody country?”
“Doctor Mortimer—”
“Penny.”
“Penny, I can’t tell you. It’s more than my job’s worth.”
“But you don’t understand…” I said and covered my face with my hands.
Lightly he manoeuvred me aside and disappeared into surgery, leaving me standing there with no answers and full of regrets. If only I hadn’t wasted time and been so fucking stupid.
There was a light cough and I gathered myself. This was no place to have a meltdown. I would be leaving soon enough, I could crumble when I was out of sight, at home. I smoothed my hands on my scrubs and looked up to find Sergeant Bailey in front of me.
“Come with me.” Claire quickly took my arm and led me to the nearest alcove where we stockpiled what little supplies we could get our hands on.
“What are you doing?”
“Shh, keep your voice down.”
“Okay,” I said whispering. Claire glanced around me, her head looking right then left. Satisfied she turned her attention back to me.
“Whatever I tell you, you didn’t hear it from me, you hear?”
“What’s going on, Claire?”
“Promise me!” she hissed.
I nodded. “I promise. Lips are sealed. Do you know where Robert is?” Desperate to know the answer I took a step closer, my eyes wide with anticipation.
“The skinny is that he’s been recalled back home. He was put on the last transport out to Al Udeid air base at 1900hrs.”
“What? But why?”
“I don’t know. Can’t get an answer from anyone. The army is notorious for letting rumours run amok, but this is different… no one is talking. I mean it must be something bad for them to evac him like that.”
My stomach twisted into a knot that I feared it would never come loose again. Worse still it felt like they were multiplying; tightness reached my throat and thickened my tongue.
“Blimey, are you okay? You look like you’re gonna lose your dinner.”
I straightened as best I could and asked the important question, “Do you know if he’s coming back?”
“I doubt it. But who knows,” she shrugged, “Anything’s possible.”
Eight
Robert
Durham House was like a mausoleum and I sat alone picking at my breakfast, stone-cold toast on my plate, doing my best not to think about the woman I’d left behind in the desert a few days ago. It didn’t seem right that she kept interrupting my thoughts at a time like this; the day of Frederick’s funeral. But there she was again, taking up space in my head… and heart.
The family was in crisis, yet keeping as far apart from each other as was humanly possible. My sister’s were keeping to themselves, and my brother, William, well, God only knew where he was.
I wasn’t even sure if he would turn up today. He was probably in some dive, drowning his sorrows no doubt. He was ignoring my calls and I was beginning to regret the harsh words I’d said to my father, backing William. Had I made a mistake and doomed the lot of us? But I knew I couldn’t think like that. I had to have faith.
The whole country seemed to be in mourning too. Every time I switched on the radio or the TV, Fred’s face appeared to haunt me. And yet, it wouldn’t be long before Penny’s image would creep out from the corners of my mind and take up residence again. God only knows what she was thinking now in light of my disappearing act. All I knew was that somehow I had to get back to her and explain myself, my need for her, and beg for her forgiveness, in person. For this definitely wasn’t a conversation that could be done over a satellite phone.
But when I would get the chance was a mystery. I felt like I had a responsibility to stay here. To be the stable one, to fly around like a helicopter-parent and make sure everyone was okay. Clearly they weren’t, of course. But I couldn’t very well abandon them either, could I?
I groaned. Loudly.
“You sound just how I feel. You got a hangover too?”
“Not bloody likely,” I responded, and in spite of myself grinned at a very dishevelled looking William. “Where the bloody hell have you been?”
“Oh don’t you fucking start. Two minutes in the door and I’m already getting an ear full.” William rang for footman, who came a moment later, and asked for a “shit-load of headache tablets.”
He joined me at the table and poured himself a cup of coffee. Black no sugar. I waited for him to offer up some sort of explanation as to where he’d been, but it wasn’t forthcoming.
“How long you been here anyway?”
“Long enough to know you’ve haven’t been here.” William rolled his eyes and I could see his patience was waning. “I got in late Monday evening.”
“Shit, mate. Didn’t realise. I’ve been here, but I’ve been dealing with some heavy stuff—”
“Yeah,
really, you don’t fucking say,” I responded losing my temper with him. “We all have, Will.”
William pinched the top of his nose, which reminded me so much of our father, that it was almost comical.
“I don’t want to fight, Robert.” William studied the tablecloth refusing to meet my eyes.
“Then pull your shit together, big brother!”
“Whatever, I’m out of here.”
I got to my feet before he barely had the chance to move and pushed him back down into his seat. “Sit down and stay there. Get some food in you at least. You can not let Mother see you in this state.”
William looked up at me in puzzlement.
“Please don’t tell me that you don’t realise what day it is?”
He swallowed, closed his eyes and muttered, “Not a fucking chance.”
“And you’ll be there?” I said removing the edge from my tone. “You’re not going to do something stupid, right?”
“I’ll be there.”
The dejected look on his face as he uttered those words split my heart in two. Growing up as the third brother, whenever I was around Frederick and William I always felt like I was out of the loop, missing the punch line to a joke, two steps behind. It was like being a member of a secret club, but only having access to the lower tiers. They had their bond, their special language, and though we all shared a brotherly bond too, theirs was unique. A connection to be envied.
Not anymore… I didn’t envy the torment he was going through. William was going through a pain I couldn’t even comprehend. It was one thing to lose a brother, but another to lose someone who was your twin, your mirrored self.
I tugged at his arm and forced him to a standing position. He fought me at first, determined to brood and glower at me, but eventually he realised I wasn’t going to give up and faced me.
“What now?” he questioned. “You ordered me to sit and eat…”
I wrapped my arms around my big brother and tried to communicate without using words, that he wasn’t alone. He had me to lean on. And that I would be there for him. No matter what. “We’ll get through this unbearable day together, alright?”
Time was ticking down at a snail’s pace. It was as if the day did not want to progress through the hours, like it wanted to avoid the upcoming funeral altogether. The only problem was the longer time dragged its feet, the worse I felt. It was unbearable.
Before I left my rooms at Durham House, I caught a glance of myself in the mirror. Earlier I’d donned my ceremonial uniform, methodically putting each item and service medals in their rightful place. On autopilot. Going through the motions. Frederick wouldn’t have cared what I wore to his funeral, only it felt right to honour him and his previous years of military service in the navy by wearing the tight fitting and rigid uniform.
As I waited in the parlour for William to make an appearance, my hands clasped behind my back, I desperately tried to prepare myself for what was to come. I’d been in large military parades before, attended countless royal events that required stiff upper lips and resolute expressions. Yet this was something entirely different. I was entering foreign territory, unprepared and without training, a soldier dropped into combat without the necessary equipment… or brothers in arms. I squeezed my eyes shut and counted to ten, slowly expelling the repressed air from my aching lungs.
Behind me there was a creak from an opening door and a footman stood with a silver tray perfectly balanced on top of his gloved hand. “Your Highness, a letter just arrived for you.”
I nodded and claimed the envelope from the tray and was about to immediately tuck it away into the large front pocket of my dark tunic, when I stopped, noticing the elongated tail of the letter R. There was a distinct flourish to character; instead of it ending straight or even with a slight curve, there was an added loop before it joined up and flowed into the following letter.
My body froze.
It could only be from one person.
I couldn’t inhale, I couldn’t rightly exhale. My heart felt as if it had been stopped in time, trapped between beats.
I raised my eyes from the envelope to find the footman had already departed.
Slowly, limb by limb, the sudden stiffness abated, and I brought my hand to my mouth.
Fear ran through me.
How could such a small thing, the envelope was barely bigger than my palm, bring so much apprehension?
But that wasn’t the real question that was blaring loudly in my head. That was only a distraction to try and quieten the truth I so desperately wanted to know… or did I?
What was inside?
Furthermore, would I be better off not knowing?
Time had finally released its chokehold and allowed the particles of sand safe passage through the timer of the day. The funeral was over and I felt like my muscles could finally relax after holding them steady during the lengthy ceremony.
William, despite our words that morning, had decided to leave before me for the rendezvous at the palace, causing me to arrive a few minutes later than planned. I glared at him as I joined the rest of our family, but he paid no attention. You wouldn’t realise it at first glance, but he’d positioned himself off to one side, separate from the group, and looked to be in his own world. I decided to let him be, even though I wanted to tell him about the letter I’d received.
It could wait, I thought.
The mood was predictably sombre. I shook my father’s hand and kissed my mother on the cheek, who gave me a weak glance in return. Some semblance of recognition, and I had to wonder if perhaps the royal physician had found it necessary to give her something to dull the raw edges of the day, to make it a little easier to get through it. And who could blame her? Frederick, her most precious and favoured child had been taken from her.
She, nor my father, did not utter a word as we waited. The queen merely tightening her grip on her black lace handkerchief.
“I can’t believe this is real,” Charlotte whispered as I took my place, and stood beside my sisters; Charlotte on my left was dressed in a reserved, below the knee, black dovetail dress. It equalled the style of a heavy coat as it featured full length sleeves and a simple belt. Charlotte’s hair was similarly respectable. Her glossy brown locks were pulled away from her face and tied back. A small fascinator with a discreet veil attached partially blurred her downcast features.
“A veritable nightmare,” Victoria, on my right, responded her tone at a normal level, who clearly wasn’t making any allowances for who might hear her. I glanced down shooting a reproachful look at her, but she returned my gaze with fury blazing in her eyes. “Let’s just get on with it? What the devil are we waiting for?”
Vicky, the baby of the family, in contrast to Charlotte, had resorted to leaving her golden blonde tresses loose, though there was a absurdly large hat on her head, also with an attached veil, and she had chosen to wear what would be considered—in my family at least—a scandalously short A-line dress, long gloves that reached her elbows, all paired with heels that looked ready to break necks if given half the chance. I was surprised that Mother had allowed it, but then again she was lost in her grief. At least thankfully the colour was the appropriate black.
“Vic,” I warned, under my breath, and immediately cursed myself for saying anything; slipping back into the role that I’d been relegated while growing up. It was not my place to moderate or cool tempers—I was not their parent or governess—yet it always seemed to play out that way. Playing referee between Frederick and William when tempers flared, or pulling the girls apart when they invariably clashed.
“What? It’s a fair question. The sooner we go, the sooner we can get this torment over.”
Charlotte shook her head and leaned closer. “Just leave it, she won’t listen to anyone. Father’s already tried, your attempts will only make things worse.”
“I heard that,” Vicky announced.
Choosing to keep my thoughts to myself I stood in silence. If the army had taught me anythin
g it was to be patient, the art of waiting. But not before taking Vicky’s hand in my own and holding it.
She stiffened. I could feel her penetrating stare but kept my head facing forward. After a moment, she shifted her stance and her arm relaxed, her hand now clutching mine in response.
Frustration was bubbling up inside me. I needed someone to talk to about the envelope that was practically singeing my no.1 dress blues.
I’d been right. The letter was from Frederick.
Taking a moment to myself after the funeral, to recover and re-establish my game face, I’d made the mistake of opening the letter.
I had so many questions.
Why send it to me?
What did it all mean?
Was the letter a coincidence or… I closed my eyes and found support from a nearby table. I was in relative safety of the library, away from the wake and meaningful, yet extremely annoying, well-wishers who stopped me every second step to pass on their condolences for what seemed like the thousandth time that day. Unlike William, my admittedly reserved demeanour didn’t allow me to ignore or dismiss their good intentions. Too polite for my own good, I thought.
It made me long for the relative informality of the camp I’d left… of the woman that made me want to spill everything, tell all my secrets too, and damn the blasted consequences. And though our time together had been limited and cut short, there was something within Penny’s kind eyes and her innate need to help that I knew she would’ve been the exact right person to talk to right then.
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