In Love and War

by Liz Trenow

  In truth, Ruby felt relieved. She still felt so angry that she wasn’t entirely sure how she would react when they met again. Alice’s snarl still resonated in her head: Just don’t get involved, Ruby. Well, it was too late, she was already involved with the Swiss pair, and even if it turned out to have been the wrong thing to do, at least she would have tried to help.

  And then there was this business of Daniel. It still left a bitter taste, the lingering feeling that she was being used as a pawn in some pre-arranged game. Although she’d only met him for a short while Daniel reminded her, uncomfortably, of the man she’d met in the pub that night: good-looking, amusing and charming in a way that made you feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. She feared it would not end well for Alice.

  On her way to the dining room, Monsieur Vermeulen handed her an envelope. ‘For you, madame.’ She tore it open and pulled out a scrappy piece of paper on which was roughly drawn a map that she recognised as the centre of Hoppestadt. An arrow pointed to a street junction, marked with a cross. Written in block capitals in a childish hand were the words Meet heer with Swiss 2 p.m. tooday. Fred.

  Immediately, she felt cheered. The diamond geezer had come good.

  The Swiss pair were at their usual table. ‘Good morning,’ she said. ‘I hope you slept well?’

  Martha gave a cautious smile. ‘Bonjour,’ she said. The boy looked down at his plate.

  ‘I have good news,’ Ruby said. She imitated the movement of steering a vehicle.

  The woman’s eyes widened. ‘Today?’ She lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘Langemarck?’

  Ruby pointed to the clock on the wall, holding up two fingers. ‘Meet me here. Two o’clock.’

  Martha nodded, and whispered something to the boy. A sweet, shy smile illuminated for a brief moment the tender boyishness beneath his usual dour expression. It would all be worth it, Ruby thought, if only to see that smile more often.

  *

  After breakfast she waited for Tubby in the lobby, as they had arranged. He arrived only five minutes late, red in the face and puffing slightly. As well as the usual briefcase, a small canvas bag hung from a strap around his shoulder.

  ‘On a tight schedule today,’ he panted. ‘I have to leave by eleven to catch the evening ferry from Ostend. Better get along to the hospital now, if you don’t mind?’

  When they arrived, Jimmy was out of bed and sitting on a chair, washed and shaved, although still in his hospital robe.

  ‘Here you go, laddie,’ Tubby said, handing him the canvas bag. ‘They told me your clothes weren’t worth laundering, so I’ve brought you some more.’

  ‘Tha tha tha,’ Jimmy stuttered, clutching the bag to his chest.

  ‘Don’t tell anyone,’ Tubby said, in a stagey whisper, ‘or they’ll all want some. There’s a bar of chocolate in there too.’ The twitching features were stilled momentarily by the hint of a smile. ‘We’ve sent your family a telegraph. I’m sure someone will come soon.’

  ‘Ah, ah, ah.’ Jimmy’s brow furrowed with frustration.

  ‘Sorry, almost forgot this.’ Tubby pulled from his pocket a small notebook with a pencil attached to it by a short length of string. Jimmy struggled to hold it at first but he soon began to scribble, the letters emerging slowly from his trembling hand.

  IMPORTANT. Please do not tell anyone I am here.

  ‘Don’t worry, we understand,’ Tubby said, placing a broad hand on his shoulder. ‘We asked your family not to tell anyone.’

  Jimmy scribbled some more. Thank you. Want to go home.

  ‘You will stay here until someone from your family comes for you,’ Tubby reassured him. ‘It may be later today, or tomorrow. But I am sure they will come.’ Jimmy nodded, and then dropped his face into his hands. Ruby feared he might be crying.

  ‘Now, laddie, why don’t you get yourself changed?’ Tubby said briskly. ‘We need to get you presentable. The trousers are hardly the height of fashion but at least you won’t look like a Tommie.’

  As they pulled screens around the bed, and moved to a discreet distance. Tubby glanced at the clock on the wall. ‘Goodness me, is it that time already? I’ll have to leave soon.’

  Ruby felt suddenly bereft, realising for the first time how much she had come to depend on this man. ‘I’ll miss you, Tubby. Don’t forget to leave me your address. Remember what we talked about?’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ he said, taking out a scrap of paper and scribbling on it. ‘And you must let me know how your friend gets on with the search for her brother. I’m only sorry we couldn’t help find your Bertie, too.’

  ‘So am I.’ She paused. ‘But I seem to have found something else here in Hoppestadt. I don’t know why, but I feel so much more optimistic about the future than I ever did before. I’ve surprised myself, to be honest. I was all wrapped up in my own misery before I came out here, afraid that if I let go I’d fall apart somehow.’

  She’d barely articulated these thoughts to herself and now here she was, sharing intimate feelings with someone she’d only just met. Except that Tubby didn’t feel like a stranger at all. He was more like a father, a man she could trust with her life.

  ‘Dearest child, I am sure you will find a new way of living. You are stronger than you believe yourself to be. Write when you get home and we’ll see how you can help with my new association.’

  ‘I promise. Thank you for everything, Tubby.’

  ‘May the Lord bless you and keep you safe, my dear,’ he said, placing a gentle hand on her head.

  Her family had never been churchgoers, and the few times she’d been Ruby had felt uncomfortable with the ceremony and what she thought of as ‘mumbo-jumbo’, but this simple act, the warmth of Tubby’s hand radiating through her scalp, seemed to calm her, making her feel truly blessed.

  They heard the clatter of the screen, and Jimmy emerged with a self-conscious smile. The shirt was over-large, the trousers too wide and the legs too short – Tubby’s proportions. Even so, what she saw now was a tall, handsome man barely recognisable from the pale, trembling wreck, prematurely aged by mental strain, whom they’d met the day before. His dark hair, even though barbered by an inexpert nun, seemed to provide the perfect frame for his face, high cheekbones, a determined jaw and intense blue eyes set wide beneath lightly arched brows.

  ‘You look terrific,’ she said.

  He lowered himself onto the bed, reached for his notebook, scribbled something and handed it to her. Hope my girlfriend thinks so too!

  ‘Now, laddie,’ Tubby said. ‘It’s time for me to be off, I’ve a boat to catch this evening. You can find your way back to the hotel, Ruby?’ She nodded, and he turned back to Jimmy. ‘Ruby will stay for the moment and with a bit of luck you’ll have some more visitors later. I wish you every blessing in the rest of your life.’

  *

  After Tubby left Jimmy rested his head back on the pillow, apparently overtaken by the exhaustion of bringing himself back into the world.

  ‘Shall I leave you to sleep?’ Ruby asked.

  He shook his head, but closed his eyes anyway.

  She felt a rush of tenderness, trying to imagine the moment of shock and disbelief when his family received the telegram. They might even have thought it was a hoax, or a case of mistaken identity. She hoped they would come quickly, before rumours could reach the authorities. The thought brought her to her feet: she must warn the nuns not to admit anyone except for his family.

  Just as she reached the top of the stairs, she heard conversation below. Peering over the stone banister, she could see the top of the nun’s wimple, animated as she apparently spoke to someone else, out of sight. It took her a few seconds to realise that the words were in English.

  It couldn’t be Jimmy’s family, not yet. But who else, other than she and Tubby, was likely to speak English in this hospital? It could only be someone from the military authorities. Had word spread so fast? She rushed back to the ward and shook Jimmy by the shoulder, shushing him with a finger to he
r lips.

  ‘Come with me, quickly, we need to disappear,’ she whispered, pulling him to his feet and, pausing briefly to tidy the bed and hide the abandoned hospital robe under a pillow, dragging him to the far end of the ward where a door led into another corridor. He moved frustratingly slowly, his limbs uncoordinated and unaccustomed to this level of activity. Let the door be unlocked, she prayed, urging him along. It was, and they scurried through and around another corner, out of sight. His face was as white as a sheet, twitching and grimacing harder than before, his limbs trembling so much she was afraid he’d fall. She held firmly onto his hand. ‘Take deep breaths. They’ll be gone soon.’

  They could hear voices on the ward: the deep baritone of the man and then, louder, the high-pitched voice of a young woman. Without warning, Jimmy pulled free of her hand, lurching towards the door muttering something that sounded like ‘Eed, Eed.’ Heart in mouth, she followed close behind him. As they rounded the corner a young woman sprinted towards them with her arms outstretched, eyes streaming with tears. Her face was vaguely familiar. Jimmy folded into the young woman’s embrace, crooning unintelligibly.

  It was the man limping behind, in danger of tripping in his haste, that Ruby recognised first: the man with the eye patch she’d seen that first day of the tour, with the strawberry-haired girl she’d taken to be his wife, who was now sobbing in Jimmy’s arms.

  ‘Oh my good Lord. Is it really you?’ The eye-patch man’s voice cracked with emotion as he flung his arms around the entwined couple. ‘Great God, it really is you. What a bloody miracle. You’re alive!’

  Ruby found that she’d stopped breathing; it really was a miracle, unfolding in front of her eyes. Behind them stood the little nun, wiping the corners of her eyes with a sleeve. Finally, the man pulled away, releasing his hold. He caught sight of Ruby and held out his hand. ‘Hello, I’m Joseph, Jimmy’s brother. Unless I am much mistaken, we met in Ostend, didn’t we? You were on the tour too? But you disappeared after the first day.’

  He was perhaps a couple of years older than Jimmy, she guessed, and it was clear that he too had suffered: as well as the limp and the eye patch, a livid scar ran diagonally across one cheek. But in all other respects he could have been Jimmy’s twin.

  ‘And this is his fiancée, Edith, if they ever stop kissing . . .’ he laughed.

  ‘Hello, Mr Catchpole, I am very pleased to meet you. I’m Ruby. Ruby Barton. I had no idea . . .’

  ‘Nor did we. All we knew was that he was missing. We came on the tour hoping to find his grave and now . . .’ The couple had released their grasp and were whispering to each other.

  ‘But the telegram went to an address in Ipswich.’

  ‘My father immediately forwarded it to us at the hotel in Ostend. Crazy, isn’t it? It arrived this morning at breakfast. Thank heavens we were still here in Belgium and could get here so quickly. We were convinced it was some kind of cruel joke, but I’d heard of the Reverend Clayton and knew he wouldn’t do such a thing.’

  ‘I’m afraid you just missed him. He’s on his way back to England, today.’

  ‘But how did you . . . ?’

  ‘It’s a long story. I was looking for someone too,’ she started.

  ‘And you thought it might . . . ?’ His words faded away. ‘I am so sorry.’

  ‘I’m just so grateful you have found him,’ she said, taking a breath. ‘He’s been through a tough time. You know he’s very anxious about the authorities?’

  ‘Yes, we shall have to be cautious.’

  The young woman had disentangled herself from Jimmy’s arms. ‘Oh dear, I must look such a mess,’ she said, laughing as she tried to straighten her hat. Her face was lit up with the most ecstatic smile Ruby could remember seeing for a very long time. Jimmy, too, had been transformed. The frowns, tics and grimaces were gone, his face a dazed, beatific beam.

  ‘Come, we should let him rest,’ Ruby said, leading them towards his bed. ‘He finds it difficult to talk.’ She picked up the notebook and handed it to him. ‘Writing things down works best.’ She pulled up chairs for the two of them, either side of the bed, and hovered for a few moments, reluctant to leave but anxious to avoid intruding on their reunion.

  ‘I’m going back to our hotel, the Hotel de la Paix in the square. If you need anything, you will be able to find me there.’

  ‘You have been so kind,’ Joseph said.

  ‘It’s been lovely to meet you. Bye, Jimmy. I’ll see you before you go.’ She grasped his hand. He looked up, grinning, and returned the squeeze.

  ‘This is the best day of my life,’ Edith whispered. ‘I can never thank you enough.’

  *

  Ruby descended the stone steps and headed out into the street, trying to hold on to their joy and suppress the bitter feeling of envy, but she couldn’t help it: I wish it was me, at Bertie’s bedside, making plans for our future. I have to go home and admit to his parents that I have failed to find any sign of their son.

  Then she remembered her promise to help Tubby. But I have something to look forward to now, a purpose for my life, a way of honouring Bertie’s memory. I will make him so proud of me. She took a deep breath, wiped the tears from her cheeks, pulled back her shoulders and walked briskly back towards the square.

  23

  ALICE

  They’d left Lille in the early hours of the morning and the first glimmers of dawn were already lighting the horizon as they approached Hoppestadt. Daniel had pulled up the car and rested his arm along the back of the seat, his hand caressing her shoulder. As they sat in comfortable silence watching the pink and orange sunrise dissolving the darkness, Alice felt flooded with a sense of pure, uncomplicated joy. It was like a fairy tale.

  The evening had been more extraordinary, more magical, than she’d ever allowed herself to imagine. His flat, on the second floor of an old building just outside the city centre, was modest, just two spacious rooms with high ceilings, sparsely furnished but in the most elegant taste: wooden floorboards with Persian carpets, large pieces of dark-wood furniture set against simple white walls.

  ‘Another quick drink before we head home?’ he’d asked, closing the heavy shutters and returning from the tiny, old-fashioned kitchen brandishing a bottle of red wine. ‘This one’s a rather special Burgundy from my father’s cellar.’

  She happily agreed. America and Lloyd seemed to be on some far distant planet, well out of the reach of her conscience. They drank, talked and laughed, then drank some more. He pulled her up from the chair and began to dance with her, humming a Belgian folk song: The night is young and the world is ours. Before long, he lowered his face and they were kissing, her lips bruising against his. She felt consumed with desire.

  For a brief moment, as they moved towards the bedroom and the ornate brass bed with its plain white coverlet, she sensed a pang of guilt – for Lloyd, for Daniel’s girlfriend. She hesitated. ‘Daniel, I don’t think—’

  ‘Do not worry, my darling. We will do nothing that you do not want to do.’ He was so solicitous for her welfare, so patient and thoughtful, that she allowed herself to be carried away by the moment. He made her feel – and she utterly believed it – like the most desirable woman in the world.

  Afterwards he smoked, and she lay in the crook of his arm, listening to his voice rumbling in his chest. ‘That was your first time?’

  ‘Uh-huh.’

  ‘It was good?’

  ‘It was so much more than good.’ He lowered his face to kiss her, and her body melted for him all over again. A little later she slipped into sleep, and the next thing she knew was his whisper in her ear.

  ‘You are so beautiful when you are sleeping,’ he said, kissing her forehead. ‘I would like to stay here with you forever, darling Aleese, but I must be at work in Ypres by eight.’

  She could not bear for it to end. ‘Just a few more minutes,’ she said, snuggling into his shoulder, but he pulled away from her and sat up.

  ‘It is time to go, ma chérie.’


  *

  She woke to hear the church clock chiming eleven and, with a sinking heart, she remembered. Her father had promised to telegraph her just as soon as he had further confirmation of Sam Pilgrim’s identity from the Canadian authorities. She dressed hurriedly and bought a reviving coffee at the cafe before making her way along the familiar streets to the post office.

  Time was running short now. They must return to Ostend tomorrow evening; the group was booked on a cross-Channel steamer first thing on Saturday morning and the transatlantic liner would leave Southampton on Monday, just four days away. If there was news of where Sam was buried, she had one last day to visit his grave.

  Once again, as she waited in the queue, she found herself eavesdropping on conversations. One exchange taking place behind her, in low voices that she had to strain to hear, was particularly intriguing.

  ‘Did you hear about Geert’s wife, threatening that Swiss woman?’

  ‘Bloody cheek, though, come here to visit a German grave. Deserved it, they did.’

  ‘Even so, Geert should return the money. That sort of thing gets our town a bad reputation.’

  ‘Germans already have a bad reputation.’

  ‘They’re Swiss, not German.’

  ‘Do you believe that?’

  ‘Even if she is, it’s not her fault.’

  ‘We want visitors to come and spend their money.’

  ‘Me, I’m not touching their filthy Deutschmarks.’

  ‘You’re stupid, then. Tourists are our future, you mark my words.’

  *

  The postmaster welcomed her with a friendly smile. ‘Good morning, Miss Palmer. Two for you today.’

  She took a deep breath and opened the first.

  YOUR PA TOLD ME ABOUT SAM STOP SO SORRY STOP MISSING YOU VERY MUCH STOP I LOVE YOU LLOYD STOP

  She crumpled the paper into her pocket and ripped open the second.

  PHOTO SAM PILGRIM DEFINITELY OUR SAM STOP DIED CORFU FARM HOPE YOU CAN FIND HIS GRAVE STOP SO PROUD OF YOU FATHER STOP

  Ruby was not at the cafe; she ran across to the hotel. Freddie was in his usual place in the bar. ‘Have you seen Ruby?’ she panted.