‘No, thank God. It was – made clear to me that Edward’s debts died with him.’ She suppressed a shudder, remembering the menacing-looking man who had appeared from the shadows one night when she was returning to the nurses’ home after a late shift three weeks earlier. He had told her he meant no harm, but Anna had still been terrified.
Tom nodded, taking it in. ‘That’s something, at any rate.’
Anna hesitated, wondering whether to speak. Then she said, ‘We weren’t together. When it happened.’ She stared straight ahead of her at the bakery as she spoke, but she could feel Tom looking at her. ‘We’d parted,’ she said quietly. ‘In the summer.’
He didn’t ask why, and she was thankful for that. Perhaps he didn’t need to ask.
Anna looked at her watch. ‘I should go,’ she said. ‘I’m due back at the hospital by five.’
‘The hospital? You’re back at the Nightingale?’
She smiled sadly. ‘I had nowhere else to go.’
‘I know the feeling.’
‘Is that why you came back here?’
Tom looked around. ‘I’m not sure why I came back, to be honest with you.’
They lapsed into silence. Anna found herself waiting, hoping that he might say something else. She wasn’t even sure what she wanted him to say, but still she found herself teetering on the edge of hope.
But no words came from him.
‘Well, it was nice to see you,’ she managed at last. ‘I’m glad you came home safely. I suppose we might meet again, if you’re staying in the area?’
She looked at him hopefully. Tom dropped his cigarette butt and ground it into the pavement with the heel of his boot.
Anna turned and had started to walk away when he suddenly called after her,
‘I’ll walk with you.’
She looked over her shoulder at him. ‘Isn’t it out of your way?’
He ignored the question, falling into step beside her. All around them there was the rumble of barrows on cobbles as the costermongers closed up their stalls. Horses’ hooves clopped, dogs barked and men shouted to each other, but Anna and Tom walked on, locked in a bubble of silence.
‘I wrote to you,’ Anna said at last. ‘After Edward and I – but I suppose my letters must have missed you.’
‘I was back in England by the summer. I didn’t expect to hear from you, anyway. Not after the last letter you wrote to me.’
Anna felt herself blushing. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I should never have stopped. But I thought it was the right thing to do …’
‘I understand,’ Tom said. ‘I probably should have stopped writing to you, too, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Even if you never replied, I didn’t want to lose touch, just in case.’
‘Just in case what?’ Anna prompted him.
‘In case you ever needed me.’
Dear Tom, she thought. He had known what Edward was like, even if Anna hadn’t. And all those miles away, with his own life in danger, he had still thought of her, sought to protect her.
She held herself rigid to stop herself from reaching for his hand.
‘I didn’t know you’d been writing to me,’ she said. ‘Edward hid your letters.’
She heard Tom’s angry, indrawn breath.
‘I was a fool,’ she said, her words escaping in a rush. ‘I know you tried to warn me about Edward, but I wouldn’t listen.’
‘I didn’t expect you to,’ Tom said. ‘You were in love. People in love don’t always see sense.’
Anna sneaked a sideways look at him, but his expression was impassive.
‘I found out Edward started the fire that nearly killed me and my family,’ she said.
‘Did he tell you that?’
Anna shook her head. ‘Someone else did.’ She looked at him consideringly. ‘You don’t seem very surprised about it? But then, I don’t suppose you would be, would you?’
To his credit, Tom didn’t insult her by denying it.
‘I tried to stop them,’ he said flatly.
‘I know. And you wrote that note warning me.’
‘I wish I could have done more.’
‘I wouldn’t have listened. Anyway, you made up for it by rebuilding our home for us.’
He stopped dead and turned to stare at her. ‘Is that what you think? That I did it to make amends?’
‘What other reason would there be?’
Say it, she pleaded silently. Tom said nothing. But the answer she needed was there, in his yearning eyes. Just as it had been in every line of every letter he had ever written to her.
It was something they both felt, but neither had the courage to express.
Once again, she fought the urge to reach for him, but kept her hands rigidly at her sides, terrified to make the first move.
They carried on walking, neither of them speaking. Then suddenly Tom said,
‘I could rebuild it.’
‘What?’
‘The bakery. I did it before and I could do it again. We could have the place open again by the spring. What do you say?’
For a brief moment she was tempted to say yes. To go back, to open up the bakery, to paint the name Beck’s above the door, to put it all back together the way it once had been.
She shook her head. ‘No,’ she said, ‘it wouldn’t be right. We can’t go back, Tom. We mustn’t. We have to look to the future. Everything has changed now. Mother and Papa have their new lives in Germany, and Liesel is getting married to Davy in the New Year. They’ve all moved on, and now it’s time I did the same.’
‘So what will you do?’ he asked.
Anna shrugged. ‘I suppose I’ll carry on working at the Nightingale.’
‘And then?’
‘I don’t know.’
They had reached the hospital gates. She turned to him, forcing a smile.
‘Well, I suppose this is where we part company. I’ll be seeing you, Tom.’
He nodded. ‘I daresay you will.’ Once again, she caught the look of yearning on his face, as if he was fighting some inner battle.
She went through the gates and had nearly reached the Porters’ Lodge before she heard his voice behind her.
‘Your letters …’
She turned. ‘What about them?’
‘They kept me going when I was in France.’ Deep colour suffused his face. ‘There was something in them – like you felt something for me?’ He lifted his gaze to meet hers, his black eyes full of a vulnerability she had never seen in him before. ‘Am I wrong? Tell me if I am and I’ll walk away.’
‘No, Tom, you’re not wrong.’
Anna walked back to where he stood. It was only a few paces, but it seemed to take forever.
She looked up into his narrow face; his black eyes fixed on hers intently. His years at war had left him battered and walking with a limp, but all his scars were on the surface. When she looked into his eyes, she saw none of the darkness she had seen in Edward’s. She saw only love.
But it wasn’t that simple. Tom had offered to rebuild her home for her, but to rebuild her shattered trust was what she really needed.
‘I don’t know if I’m ready,’ she said. ‘What I went through with Edward – it’s going to take me a long time to get over it.’
‘Then I’ll just have to wait, won’t I?’ Tom squared his shoulders. ‘I’ve loved you all these years, I reckon I can wait a bit longer for you to love me back.’
This time Anna didn’t try to stop herself from reaching for his hands. His fingers curled around hers, not seeking to possess her as Edward had, but making her feel cherished and safe.
Perhaps it wouldn’t take her such a long time to regain her trust in love after all.
THIS IS JUST THE BEGINNING
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Copyright © Donna Douglas 2019
Cover photography by Colin Thomas
Background sourced from Getty Images & Shutterstock
Donna Douglas has asserted her right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.
First published in Great Britain by Arrow Books in 2019
www.penguin.co.uk
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
ISBN 9781473539044
Nightingale Wedding Bells Page 36
