“Thomas. Thomas Mitchell, from London.” She spoke so softly I hardly recognized her voice. Not like the Emma I knew. I wondered if she was sorry we’d come.
“What is it you want him for, young lady?” the chaplain asked.
“I … I need to talk to him.” She looked down at her feet.
“Is this something that’s going to upset him? Now is not the time to go telling men bad news. Bad news can get them killed when the sun comes up.”
Emma looked to me for help. I spoke up. “It’s not bad news. It’s the best kind of news. Only Emma needs his help with something.” I drew the chaplain away from Emma, who looked more and more like she would cry.
“Oh, I see,” he said. “That’s why you’ve looked for me first. Well …” He folded his arms across his chest. “My duty is to the men here, keeping them safe. If it seems Thomas Mitchell isn’t ready to do what your friend wants him to do, I won’t force him. Is she prepared for that?”
I knew she wasn’t. But we’d come this far and we had to find Thomas. “I’m sure of her.” It didn’t mean anything really, but the chaplain took it as a yes.
“Follow me.”
We started off. Dr. Maclean hung back. I looked over my shoulder at him. I wanted to beg him to come along with us, but I didn’t know why. He wouldn’t be any help with Thomas and Emma.
“We have to keep behind the hills or crouch low. Even at night, the Russians will sometimes take a shot.”
Emma gripped my arm. “It’s all right. Just do as the chaplain says.” I let her cling to me even though it made it harder to move as quickly as we ought. But that wasn’t all. As we approached the men in the trenches, the weight pressed harder and harder on my heart, so it felt like to burst. But I had to go on. I put the mandrake sachet to my nose. It gave off a moldy, earthy smell, and made me feel calmer. I blessed Mother Seacole.
Soon there were no more hillocks or earthworks to hide behind, and ahead I could see the dark, wide ditches that must be trenches. “Get down, flat, and wait for me here,” the chaplain said. I pulled Emma down beside me. Rocks and roots pressed into us, and the ground was icy cold but at least not snow covered. The chaplain crouched as low as he could and ran like an animal on all fours across the flat area to the trenches. Soon he disappeared over the lip of one. Would he come back or just leave us here? The only choice we had was to wait.
It seemed like hours. Emma shivered, I hoped only from the cold. But at last a shape crawled over the top of a trench, a ways down from where the chaplain went in, and moved toward us, low to the ground.
“It’s Thomas!” Emma whispered to me, pointing. I saw the chaplain bringing someone back with him. Thank God, I thought, and promised I’d really pray when we went to church on Sunday. “Look, Moll, someone else is coming.” Emma dug her fingers into my arm as she said it.
I saw him too. Yet another soldier had come out and the two soldiers and the chaplain were doing that same low scuttle toward us. It was only a minute before they were there, and I knew right away who the second soldier was. Will.
“Quickly. Over here.” The chaplain led us behind the nearest earthworks where we could stand up and face each other.
“Em!” Thomas whispered, and wrapped his arms around her. “Why’d you come up here? It’s so dangerous!”
“Well … You see …” I’d never seen Emma short of a quick answer before.
“Let’s all move away, shall we?” said the chaplain. Once we were a polite distance off and I saw that Emma had started talking to Thomas, the chaplain said, “So, you two know each other too?”
Until then I avoided meeting Will’s eyes. I could see he was changed. Very thin, and his happy, trusting eyes were less easy to read. Or perhaps it was just the moonlight. “You look well, Moll.” He reached out his hand and touched my cheek. Why hadn’t I thought about the possibility I’d see him if I came up here?
“So do you,” I lied. “Are you eating?”
The chaplain walked away as though he had business over by another earthworks.
“It ain’t half hard up here. I ’aven’t slept for three days.” He’d let himself slip back into the old East End accent, not keeping up the polished ways he learned in Cadogan Square, I noticed.
“I’m so sorry. I wish I could help.”
“You could! You really could, Molly.” He moved closer to me. I didn’t want to shrink away. Not just because it would have hurt him, but because I really didn’t want to. I wanted to comfort Will, my only friend besides Emma, who’d had such a hard time since I saw him last. And he was my only link with home too. He took hold of my shoulders. “You remember what I asked you, before I left?”
I couldn’t help but remember, even though I tried not to think about it most of the time. I just didn’t know if I felt like that about Will. And when Dr. Maclean was close, something else happened to me, like it never did even this close to Will. Still, I let him get nearer, till there was almost no distance between us. He kissed my cheek, then pressed his against mine and spoke in my ear. “The chaplain’s here. Marry me, Moll. To give me something to live for. I know we’re meant for each other.”
He slipped his arms around my waist. I felt the roughness of his uniform, the buckles and buttons, pressing up against me. It was safe in his arms. He’d helped me, he cared for me. He would always take care of me, I knew, be kind and never hurt me. What else was there for me? Once Miss Nightingale found out what Emma and I had done up there, we’d be out for sure. I turned my face to his and kissed him lightly on the lips.
The chaplain cleared his throat. I jumped away.
Will stood next to me and put a hand on my waist like he was claiming me for his own. “Chaplain, I wonder if I could trouble you for a few minutes of your services.” He made his voice all proper again.
“You too? I’d better see what’s going on over the other side.”
In the confusion of everything, I’d almost forgot about Emma. I looked for her now. She and Thomas stood two feet apart from each other, both looking down at the ground. This wasn’t good. What would she do? I clenched my hands together while I watched the chaplain talking to them. Then all three came over to us.
“Seems like we have two weddings to celebrate tonight,” he said, not looking pleased. “We can do them at the same time, if you’ll just stand here. But I’ll need a witness.”
He turned, and out of the shadows walked Dr. Maclean. My heart froze.
Chapter 26
He wouldn’t look at me. I suddenly felt how very cold it was up there. My feet were numb, my fingers were numb, my mind was numb. What was I doing?
The chaplain started right in before I could say a word.
“Do you, Thomas, take Emma to be your lawful wedded wife?” He stopped. Wasn’t there more? It would all be over too fast. I needed time to think!
Thomas sighed, then looked long at Emma. “I guess … yes, I do.”
“That doesn’t sound like you’re very certain, Thomas.”
Emma’s eyes were round and scared. I was just glad for a little delay, so I could think. I glanced over at Dr. Maclean, and was startled to see him staring—no, glaring—straight at me. Was he angry? Did he expect something from me? But I meant him to. I knew that. And now I wanted him to be standing where Will was. But I didn’t want to hurt Will. How I wished I could close my eyes and be back in the hut in Balaclava, where none of this was real.
“Thomas, it’ll be all right,” Emma’s voice quaked. “You’ll see. We’ll do well together.”
She reached her hand out to him. He took it in both of his, then clutched it to his heart. “I know. I know.” He was crying. Tears streamed through the dirt caked on his face, which I could see much better now. The sky was getting light in the east. “Only, I didn’t expect …” He sniffed hard. “Carry on, vicar,” he said, attempting a smile. The relief on Emma’s face made me want to cry too.
The chaplain finished his very short service, and Emma and Thomas held each other clo
se. I hoped they would be all right. It was such an odd way to come to this, and yet it was no stranger than many, I supposed. Will took hold of my hand. I had to fight the urge to pull it away from him. What could I do? It would crush him to tell him now, here, that I didn’t want to marry him, or at least that I wasn’t certain about anything.
“Do you, William, take Molly to be your lawful wedded wife?”
“I—”
Will was interrupted by a boom so loud I felt it inside my ears, coming from behind us over the earthworks.
“Watch out!” It was Dr. Maclean. Before I could think, he ran toward us, pushing us down hard. I landed on my hand with my wrist bent back and felt something snap. But I didn’t have time to think about it because another boom came, as loud as the first.
“Those bloody Russkies! It’s not even dawn.” Thomas jumped up and away from Emma, who reached out for him. “Gotta get back to me mates.” He took off across the open ground, zigzagging and crouched, hands over his head.
“Thomas, no!” Emma screamed out, but it was too late. Just before he reached the relative safety of the trench, another shell fell a few feet away from him, exploding into fragments. He lay still on the ground. “Thomas!” Emma jumped up and started to run toward him. Will grabbed hold of her. She fought with all her might. “Let me go! He needs me! I must help him!”
The chaplain clasped his hands together and closed his eyes. I looked at Dr. Maclean. He didn’t hesitate, but took off at a run to reach Thomas where he lay.
“No!” I cried. The chaplain shot out one hand and held me back. He was quicker and stronger than I guessed he’d be. I could feel the tears on my face.
Although the shells were coming fast in a great bombardment, miraculously Dr. Maclean reached Thomas. I saw him scream something toward the trenches, and a moment later two men came out with a stretcher. With stops to duck and cover their heads, they managed to get Thomas on the canvas strung between two long poles.
“Molly.”
It was Will. In my anxiety I had almost forgotten he was there. I turned to him. His eyes were full of sadness. “Why didn’t you say?”
Say what exactly? When I wasn’t even sure myself. “I don’t know, Will. I don’t know anything.”
In that moment where I turned my attention away from Dr. Maclean and the two men carrying Thomas on the stretcher, another shell landed, just on the other side of the earthworks where we stood. Emma ran to me and clutched me, sobbing. “What will I do? What if he’s dead?”
I couldn’t say anything. I feared the worst, but that was unthinkable. While we stood there, the two men bearing the stretcher with Thomas on it came around to the protected side of the earthworks. His eyes were closed, but he didn’t have the pallor of death. Nonetheless, his legs were twisted in unnatural positions and I feared many of the bones were shattered. I kept Emma’s face turned away, but I’d already seen enough wounds to know that these were serious, and that his legs likely would both be taken off. He might live, but he would never be able to walk. Would that be living?
Emma must have sensed me staring at him because she broke free of me, looked at Thomas, and screamed. She flew to his side. “Get him to the hospital. Quick!” Emma took off her cloak and laid it over Thomas. Where was Dr. Maclean? I ran to where I could get a better view of the stretch of ground from the trenches to the earthworks, the space where Thomas had fallen.
“Don’t go any nearer, Molly!” Will said.
But I didn’t pay any attention. I saw him. He was clutching his side and limping toward us. I ran out to him, let him put his other arm over my shoulders and took his weight. A moment later Will was there, propping him up from the other side. Together we walked him the ten or so yards to safety.
“I’ll have to operate on that young man,” Dr. Maclean said, his teeth clenched.
“You’re hurt,” I said. “Let the other doctors do it. You need help.”
“No!” he yelled. He took his arm off my shoulders. “Not from you.” He turned to Will. “Or you.”
The chaplain came over. “I’ll see he gets to the hospital tent.”
I watched the two of them make their way slowly over the rough ground, down to where the hospital tent was now clearly outlined against the rising sun.
“I have to go back,” I said.
Will nodded. “It’s over, isn’t it?”
I didn’t want to say yes, but mostly because I never thought it had begun—whatever it was he wanted to be between us. Everything was so strange, so mixed up. “I don’t know, Will. I don’t know anything.”
“This place changes you. It makes things clearer.”
Did it? Not for me. Everything was cloudier and murkier than ever. I didn’t even know now what the day would bring. At least, beyond me facing Miss Nightingale with the truth of everything that happened that night.
“I’ll be seeing you, Moll,” Will said, then turned away. The bombardment had let up. Later I found out that after they fired all their guns, they had to reload. I watched Will walk slowly back across the open ground, now chopped up fresh from the shells that had hit there in the last hour.
I turned and went down to get the donkey and ride back to Balaclava alone.
Chapter 27
When I reached the hospital tent there was lots of activity. Thomas and Dr. Maclean weren’t the only ones wounded in that early bombardment. There were some killed too. Their bodies lay in a row, covered with whatever dirty cloth could be found.
Some of the less badly wounded sat or stood outside the hospital tent, smoking if they could, holding bleeding arms or gingerly touching quickly patched up faces and heads. Those able to walk without too much trouble headed down the hill, I guessed to Mother Seacole’s, where they could get clean bandages and probably some whisky to dull the pain.
“Nurse! Come lend a hand!”
It was Dr. Hastings who, with two other doctors I didn’t recognize, was going from soldier to wounded soldier, checking them and triaging. I knew I should get back as soon as I could, but there was a good deal of work to be done here, and we weren’t so busy down in Balaclava. I fell in behind the doctor, helping the men who needed it into the tent, where they mostly had to sit on the ground since there were only one or two beds.
Thomas lay on one of them with Emma at his side, gazing into his face. His eyes were still closed. I left them alone.
It took two hours to get the wounds dressed that weren’t too serious and for the doctors to decide about the others. In that time the Russians had started up their pounding twice more, but the men were prepared, and not so many new casualties came in. Three or four of the worst cases had already been sent down to the hospital in Balaclava, on a wagon pulled by an ox. One was so bad they decided that moving him would be pointless. If he couldn’t be operated on here, he wouldn’t make even that short journey. That man was Thomas.
Once I finished helping I went in to find Emma. She sat just as before, her hand on Thomas’s forehead.
“Emma, dear,” I said, “shouldn’t you come with me?”
“Dr. Hastings says they may be able to save one leg. They’ll take off the other as soon as he … wakes up.” Emma kept her eyes focused on Thomas. “Where is Dr. Maclean?” she asked.
I’d been so occupied assisting Dr. Hastings that I didn’t have time to wonder anything, and now I realized there was no sign of him in the hospital tent or anywhere around. Then I knew. “I expect he went to Mother Seacole.”
“He’d do nothing of the kind!” Dr. Hastings came in just in time to hear what I said. “She’s a charlatan of the worst sort. She may be a decent enough nurse, but she sells the men medicine and whiskey and claims to have healing powers.”
I fingered the sachet around my neck.
“Then where is he?” Emma asked.
“I sent him down to Balaclava. He didn’t want to go, but up here we wouldn’t be able to deal with his wound. Too much chance for infection.”
I looked up at Dr. Hastings.
“What sort of wound? I thought he had some shrapnel in his leg?” Dr. Maclean had shrugged off our help like he was only slightly hurt.
“In his leg and his side. I’m afraid there may be internal injuries.”
My mind was a jumble of unconnected thoughts. I must go. I must stay. What should I do? “I must return to the hospital in Balaclava. With wounded coming in they’ll need all the nurses they’ve got.”
Dr. Hastings nodded his head toward Dr. Maclean’s horse. “You might as well ride her down.”
I didn’t wait, but hiked my skirts up and climbed onto the beast’s back. I wasn’t much of a rider, but I figured I could manage. As I was about to turn the horse, Emma came running out, hair down around her shoulders, her face dirty and splotchy where tears had dried. “You tell Miss Nightingale that I won’t be coming back no more! That I’m staying here with my husband, like Mrs. Duberly!”
I nodded and sighed as I rode off. She had such hope in her face. Yet Thomas was likely to die, and soon. Only a miracle—or Emma’s love—might save him.
Balaclava seemed much closer in the daytime. I passed the huddle by the door of Mother Seacole’s dispensary—as I thought, several of the wounded from the trenches had apparently decided they’d be better off here than in the hospital tent—and the stationary engine at Kadikoy. The way was easy to find: there was only one road, and a sign pointed to Balaclava at the only turn off of that.
It was altogether too quick a ride for me to decide what I would say to Miss Nightingale. With luck, I wouldn’t see her at all. Sometimes she was so occupied with her meetings and inspections that she didn’t come to the hospital. The others must have raised the alarm though, when Emma and I weren’t there in the morning.
How did everything go so badly wrong? Our plan was to get back before anyone was awake so that nobody need know we’d left at all. Now I knew how foolish we had been. Even if we’d just got there and turned right round and come back, it would have been difficult to make it in time. I wasn’t sorry I’d stayed to help the wounded. I just wasn’t sure Miss Nightingale would see it like I did.
In the Shadow of the Lamp Page 18
