What if Mason cannot be reached? What if he cannot leave his work to take the call? I cannot wait here all day, either. I have work to do. And what if he disagrees with my superiors’ suggestion? Will he ask me to give notice? Oh, but I cannot! I am needed here, more now than ever.
For perhaps a half hour, Tabitha fretted and worried over the situation, becoming first anxious and then fearful. As the minutes ticked by, though, she realized that the Holy Spirit was trying to speak to her.
Peace, that sweet voice whispered. Stand in the peace that Jesus promised you. Do not be moved . . .
Peace I leave with you,
my peace I give unto you:
not as the world giveth,
give I unto you.
Let not your heart be troubled,
neither let it be afraid.
“Oh!” Tabitha sighed. How can I expect to live and act in God’s will if I disregard his admonitions? Lord, I am sorry. I do trust you. In all things, I trust you—even in this. Please help me to wait in your peace for Mason’s call. And I commit this situation to you, for you know what is best for Mason and for me.
Miss Thompson must have heard Tabitha’s sigh. She lifted sympathetic eyes. “Is everything all right, Nurse Hale?”
Tabitha shook her head and laughed low in her throat. “Yes, Miss Thompson. Everything is fine.”
Minutes later, the phone on Miss Thompson’s desk rang. “Colchester Hospital. Matron’s office.” She paused. “Miss Hale? Yes. One moment.”
She looked to Tabitha with some surprise. “It is for you.”
“I am to take it in Matron’s office,” Tabitha answered. She knocked on the door and, when Matron bid her come, slipped inside.
“I will step out for a cup of tea whilst you speak with your young man,” Matron murmured. She patted Tabitha’s shoulder as she passed by.
“Hello?” Tabitha breathed into the telephone’s mouthpiece.
“Call for Miss Tabitha Hale. To whom am I speaking?”
“This is Miss Hale.”
“Please go ahead.”
Tabitha waited until she heard the sharp click indicating that the operator had disconnected from the call. “Mason? Are you there?”
“Yes! What is wrong? Tabitha, are you all right?”
“Yes, yes. I am sorry I worried you. I just . . . I needed to speak with you right away about . . . our wedding.”
“Wedding? Did they say ‘yes’?” He was as excited as she was.
“They did, only . . . only they wish us to marry and not make it public just now. Sister Alistair has a brother who is a rector in the little village of Farring Cross not too far from here. He would marry us quietly.”
Mason said nothing for a moment, so Tabitha hurried on. “Lady Perth-Lyon and Matron Stiles are in favor of us marrying, but they are concerned that discipline and morale among the VADs might suffer if it were known. The VADs are not allowed to marry while in service, you see, but, well, I am not a British volunteer, and they need me terribly. I could tell that Matron and Sister Alistair were worried I would give my notice.”
He was still quiet, so Tabitha asked, “You won’t ask me to give notice, will you, Mason? You know how important what I do is?”
He sighed. “Yes, I do, indeed. So they are asking that we marry but keep it secret. Hmm. Well, you and I had already agreed we would not give up our work until the war ended. I suppose—”
“They will give me a three-day pass, Mason. Farring Cross is about fifty kilometers from Colchester by train. We can meet there and spend two nights. Together.”
“I like the sound of that, Tabs. When?”
“So you will agree to keep our marriage to ourselves for a time? I am certain that we can tell our friends at home and explain that I will be keeping my maiden name for the time being.”
He growled. “Yes, I agree, but the instant we can tell the world that you are Tabitha Carpenter, I will shout it from the housetops!”
Carpenter wrote with two proposed sets of dates, dates when his superiors agreed to grant him three days of leave. Tabitha, with Matron’s approval, chose the second range of dates: September 20-22.
“Sister Alistair will write her brother, and ask that he marry us on the evening of September 20,” Tabitha reported.
“I shall make all the arrangements for dinner and hotel,” Mason promised, “and meet you on the Farring Cross train platform the afternoon of September 20.”
That evening Tabitha wrote a letter to Rose.
Dear Miss Rose,
I have such wonderful news. Would you please read my letter aloud at dinner when you receive this? I would ask you to read the following first.
Miss Tabitha Kathrine Hale
and
Mr. Mason Albert Carpenter
request your prayers and blessings
as we enter into sacred matrimony
the evening of September 20, 1916.
Mason and I dearly wish you all could be here to share this moment with us. Although it is technically against the rules for VADs to marry, my superiors at Colchester have granted us permission. In return, Mason and I have agreed to keep our marriage a secret at this time and I have agreed to remain as Colchester’s Head VAD.
We can consent to their terms only because we had already determined that neither of us can bear to leave the work we are engaged upon: Mason cannot leave off training new pilots, and I cannot leave off training new volunteer aides. What we do is too terribly important to the war effort. We had decided to marry but live apart so that we could continue in our present endeavors.
At least our infrequent times together in the future will be as husband and wife! Therefore, I request that you do not write to me as Tabitha Carpenter, but continue to address me as Tabitha Hale, as I will continue to be known to the hospital and its staff.
As happy as Mason and I are, one circumstance mars that happiness—that all of you will not able to witness our vows. When this war has ended and we return home, we hope to renew our vows before Pastor Carmichael and all of our family in Denver.
Oh, Miss Rose! We are so filled with joy.
Midweek, the morning of September 20, after her roommates had left the dormitory, Tabitha packed a small bag. Then she bathed and washed her hair. As far as anyone other than Matron and Sister Alistair knew, Tabitha was taking a well-deserved three-day leave to rest by the seashore.
When she had dried her hair and carefully combed it out, Tabitha donned a new outfit—a flattering sheath of deep green with an overdress of gauzy cream shot with green, gold, and beige flowers. The waist and bodice of the dress fit Tabitha’s figure flawlessly; the diaphanous overskirt flowed around the sheath that hugged her hips to perfection. For once, Tabitha curled her red hair and arranged it around the brim of the darker green cloche she pinned in place.
No unflattering knot or bun at the back of my head today, she thought with a smile. Today I am a bride! The radiant woman staring back from the mirror bore testament to the joy swelling in her heart.
Today I am marrying Mason Carpenter, her heart chimed again and again.
Tabitha walked off the hospital campus and met the cab she had arranged for. The cabby drove her to the train station where she caught the noon train. Three hours later, the train steamed to a halt at the small platform that served the village of Farring Cross.
She saw Mason at the same moment he caught sight of her, and she knew he had never looked more handsome, more distinguished.
“My darling,” he murmured against her hair.
Sister Alistair’s brother, the Reverend Markus Alistair, met them at the tiny village church. His wife and a church elder stood with Tabitha and Mason through the ceremony. The elder’s wife handed Tabitha a bouquet of late roses and watched, smiling and sniffing into her hanky, from the front pew.
Reverend Alistair looked from Mason to Tabitha, and said solemnly, “The vows you are about to take are to be made in the presence of God, who is judge of all and knows all the secre
ts of our hearts; therefore if either of you knows a reason why you may not lawfully marry, you must declare it now.”
“I know of no reason,” Mason asserted.
“Nor I,” Tabitha replied.
The minister smiled. “Well, then. Mason Albert Carpenter, will you take Tabitha Kathrine Hale to be your wife? Will you love her, comfort her, honor and protect her, and, forsaking all others, be faithful to her as long as you both shall live?”
“I will,” Mason’s voice rang with confident fervor.
“And will you, Tabitha Kathrine Hale take Mason Albert Carpenter to be your husband? Will you love him, comfort him, honor and protect him, and, forsaking all others, be faithful to him as long as you both shall live?”
“I will,” Tabitha pledged.
“God our Father, from the beginning you have blessed creation with abundant life. Pour out your blessings upon Mason and Tabitha that they may be joined in mutual love and companionship, in holiness and commitment to each other. We ask this through our Lord Jesus Christ your Son, who is alive and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever.”
“Amen,” Tabitha and Mason said together. They both had tears in their eyes when they kissed. The moment his lips met hers, Tabitha felt their healing power—the power of sacred trust and sacred bond.
You make everything beautiful in its time, Lord, her heart sang.
After the ceremony, Mason asked the two couples to join them for a wedding supper at a nearby hotel. The Reverend Alistair, his wife, and their friends were more than happy to accept.
Mason had arranged for everything, from the food to the flowers to the cake. The hotel sat upon a bluff overlooking the ocean, and their wedding table for six, adorned down its length with fragrant stems and blossoms, faced the sea so that the crash of breakers upon the seawall was their accompanying serenade.
The hotelier was delighted to supervise their celebration himself. Under his direction, his servers brought course after course to the table. With each course, the four guests saluted the bride and groom and wished them well.
For the finale of the dinner, the waiters served tiny cups of sherbet and the hotelier’s wife bore a small two-tiered cake, artfully iced and bejeweled with sugar roses. All the hotel staff gathered around and applauded as Tabitha and Mason cut the top layer and fed each other a bite.
Then Mason and Tabitha served around the rich slices chock-full of chopped raisins, almonds, and cherries until everyone present had a slice of the cake. Tabitha had the hotelier box up the last large, uncut bit of the cake.
I will save this for Matron and Sister Alistair, Tabitha decided.
The long, happy afternoon wound toward late evening before the celebrations ended. Then Mason led Tabitha toward their hotel room.
The following morning, they slept late and drank their tea on the balcony facing the crashing surf. Tabitha leaned her head upon Mason’s shoulder as they watched, mesmerized by the everchanging sea.
“Everything was so perfect, Mason. Thank you.”
His fingers pressed hers in acknowledgement. “Could anything make our honeymoon more perfect? Is there anything your heart desires?”
“No, nothing,” Tabitha sighed.
“Are you certain?”
She snuggled in closer to him. “I am. I cannot imagine anything more delightful than this.”
He chuckled. “Well, my love,” he teased, “How would you like to fly over the sea?”
Tabitha was baffled and sat up to look up at him. “Why, whatever do you mean?”
Kissing her forehead he replied, “I mean that I did not take the train here as you did, for I wanted to give you a gift no other bride would likely receive from her new husband. To finagle this gift, I requested a five-day pass for our wedding. I knew Catterick’s RFC commandant would balk at the length of my request. In actuality, though, I have taken so little leave in the last two years that I believed he would feel obligated to honor my request.”
Mason chuckled. “Then, in typical American fashion, I offered him ‘a deal,’ an alternative: I would reduce my request from five days to three, if—if—he would allow me to borrow a plane, one of our older, less-used trainers, thus reducing my travel time. I agreed to pay for the petrol, of course.”
“You flew here!”
“I did, indeed. My B.E.2 is anchored just there.” He pointed, and Tabitha followed his finger up the beach until she saw the nose of an aeroplane peeking out from behind a sheltering shed.
“Oh!”
“So I ask you again: Could I, your husband, give you the wedding gift of flying over the sea?”
Tabitha’s heart quickened and she breathed, “Oh, yes!”
He bundled her against the cool air they would find above the sea water and made sure the scarf covering her head and ears would not work loose. The seat he buckled her into this time was behind his seat instead of beside it, and the entire body of the plane was enclosed rather than open.
“You cannot fall out, darling,” he told her, “no matter what.” He pulled the straps snug about her waist and over her shoulders and grinned, “I would not have dared to touch you so familiarly before today, would I?” He leaned closer to brush a kiss across her mouth. “Or dared to do this.”
Tabitha sighed in contentment and excitement as Mason undid the anchors on the wheels and grasped and spun the propeller. When the engine caught, he climbed into his own seat, regulated the flow of fuel until the engine purred, and donned leather helmet, goggles, and his own seat restraints.
Then, with a small crowd ogling them from the balcony of the hotel and along the shore, he pointed the aeroplane down the beach and they raced ahead. Tabitha stared, enthralled, as the sand fell away and Carpenter banked toward the sea. For the benefit of those watching from the hotel’s balcony, he turned in a wide circle and flew directly over them.
Tabitha shrieked with glee and waved her hands at them. They waved and shouted in return. And then Carpenter, pulling the plane into a long, tilting turn, circled back and flew westward along the shore. He did not fly into the swirling clouds, but kept the plane low so that Tabitha could consider the rows of breakers pounding the bluffs and cliffs and study the villages they passed over.
Perhaps ten minutes later, he turned, following a river inland from its mouth. Tabitha was amazed when the familiar town of Colchester came into view. She was able to see so clearly the layout of the army barracks, stables, parade grounds and buildings. She pointed to her dormitory and the familiar hospital wards as they circled above Colchester twice. Then Carpenter, again following the Colne River, took them back to the sea.
He flew straight out above the sea and took them higher. “Would you like to have some fun?” he shouted.
“Yes!” Tabitha shouted back. She could not believe how much she loved the wind in her face and the earth in miniature below her—the incredibly freeing sense of flight.
“Hang on!” Carpenter yelled.
Tabitha was not prepared for what happened next. Carpenter pulled the nose of the plane back so that they were climbing higher and higher into the sky—and then just as they leveled out, he dove the plane downward, only to put them into a loop-the-loop. When he again leveled out, he banked over into barrel rolls. They rolled over and over until Tabitha was dizzy.
But she was not scared—no! She was thrilled.
“Again!” she screamed. “Again!”
For the next fifteen minutes, Carpenter did everything he knew to do with the plane: He dived, he rolled, he dipped and looped. Tabitha’s laughter and screams of delight were his delight, too. When he turned them back toward Farring Cross they were quiet in their joy, but Tabitha felt that her first day of married life had been perfect.
He knows my heart, Tabitha sighed. My husband knows my heart.
Tabitha returned to Colchester Friday evening. Getting on the train and leaving Mason while he stared after her was the hardest thing she had ever done.
The follow
ing morning she picked up a small box wrapped in brown paper and took it to Matron’s office.
“Good morning, Nurse . . . Hale,” Miss Thompson greeted her, her blue eyes dancing.
“Ah, good morning, Miss Thompson. Could Matron spare me a moment?”
After checking, the young woman said, “Please go right in.”
Tabitha closed the door behind her and then placed the box on Matron’s desk. “For you and Sister Alistair,” she smiled. “We thought of you when we were sharing our cake.”
Matron undid the paper and eased open the box. “Oh, how lovely! Cake is so dear these days. We shall certainly enjoy this.” Then she leaned toward Tabitha. “This is a very generous serving. Perhaps you might offer Miss Thompson a slice?”
Tabitha’s brows shot up. “She knows?”
Matron chuckled. “Little happens in this office to which Miss Thompson is not privy. However, she is most trustworthy, I assure you.”
Tabitha cut the cake into three portions and laid one slice on a napkin Matron offered her. As she was leaving, she placed the napkin in front of the receptionist.
“Lord love you, Nurse Hale!” she exclaimed, eyeing the cake with avarice. Glancing at Tabitha, she added in a low voice, “And mazel tov. We are quite happy for you.”
Tabitha went back to her work that day with a spring in her step.
“Quite the rest you had,” Ellen Darby remarked. “Us slavin’ away whiles you drink in the sea air!”
“It was perfect,” Tabitha answered. “The beaches were beautiful and, as you said, I drank in the sea air.”
In her mind she was flying, dipping down toward the whitecaps, and racing over the surf. . . . Mason looking back at her and grinning like a lovesick fool.
She sighed. “Most refreshing!”
~~~
As Matron had suggested, the struggle on the continent only intensified that fall. No one spoke anymore of the war ending. It stretched out before them, an endless conveyor of the dead and wounded, bad news followed by worse news, defeat upon defeat.
Tabitha Page 27
