Fragile Wings

by Rebecca S. Buck

  “But what did he do?” Annie asked, voicing what they were all thinking.

  “For there to be no sign of him…” their mother said, her voice hoarse with pain.

  “It’ll be the sea,” her father said, gruffly. “No other way it’s possible. Besides, it’s easy. He was hardly in a state to plan anything.”

  They were all quiet, contemplating this. After a few minutes, it was as if her mother was suddenly reminded that her wayward daughter had returned to the fold. She turned sharp eyes on Evelyn. “You’ll be staying, then, I take it?”

  Evelyn was startled by the sudden question. “Yes. I mean, I don’t have to, if you’d prefer me not to.”

  “Nonsense. You’re part of the family, even if you turned your back on us. You’ll stay here. What’s more, we won’t hear any more of your London talk. You’ll stay here and you’ll go back to your duties in the shop. With any luck, there’s a man in the town who will still think of having you, before too long has passed.” Evelyn’s mother spoke the words as if there was no alternative.

  Evelyn, who had not really stopped to contemplate if her return to West Coombe was permanent, was horrified. “I don’t want to marry someone from West Coombe, Mother,” she exclaimed.

  “Then you’ll be a spinster and help me take care of your father. Whatever you do, you’ll stop daydreaming. It was Edward who made you daydream, and look what’s happened to him. I won’t lose you to it as well.”

  “Eddie wasn’t daydreaming,” Evelyn replied, angry now. “He was damaged by the war. It was shell shock, or whatever they’re calling it these days.”

  “And yet he could manage to tell you to go to London, to take himself off and end it all? Funny kind of illness that’s only bad when you want it to be.”

  “Mother, you can’t mean it. You know Eddie wasn’t choosing to be as he was.”

  “I don’t really know what I know any longer, Evelyn. But I do know you’re going to do the right thing by this family.” Her mother sounded more tired than forceful. This made it even more difficult to argue with her.

  “But I love someone in London,” Evelyn protested, finally. The image of Jos sprang into her mind’s eye. To feel such a connection with her, to imagine her so vividly, seemed very odd in her family’s kitchen. Jos might as well have not existed. Yet she was so very real. Evelyn remembered how it felt to kiss her and almost smiled.

  “Well, if he loved you in return I think we’d see him here at your side, wouldn’t we? You’re even more stupid than I thought if you trust a London man at his word.” Her mother looked as though she was beginnign to pity Evelyn. Evelyn knew there was no point in continuing this exchange.

  “I’m very tired, Mother. Do you think I might go to bed now? We can talk about it tomorrow.”

  “Go on then, go. Annie’s in your room too.” Evelyn’s heart sank even further. Annie would fill the room with judgement and condemnation of Evelyn’s actions, which did not seem conducive to a restful night. And she felt as though she needed to rest. She was almost too tired to grieve for Edward tonight. Tomorrow, she knew, the pain would overtake her.

  *

  When the pain came, it did not subside. Although he had been a hollow shell of his former self for the last decade, Evelyn missed Edward horribly. He had been a constant presence in her life, even on his quietest and least communicative days. There had never been, she realised, a day in which she had been alive but Edward had not. Until now. Now he was gone.

  There was still no sign of him. Every morning, men went out to search the coastline, particularly at the North Bay, where Edward could have been drawn by family memories of summer days. If he had thrown himself on the mercy of the waves there, it was almost impossible to judge where his body would have been carried. There were powerful currents in the water, as the estuary flowed around a sandbar and out into the open sea beween the rocky headlands. Perhaps he would be found one day, washed up miles away. Or maybe he would be lost forever.

  On reflection, Evelyn preferred the latter. To vanish was more dignified somehow. It allowed Edward to join the ranks of his fallen comrades with their unknown and unmarked resting places. True, he would not have his name inscribed onto a memorial, but he was one of the war dead now. They did not need to find his earthly remains deposited on a beach.

  Days passed, though Evelyn did not keep a real track of them. The New Year came and went without celebration. Evelyn gave a passing thought to Lilian, with her silly new dress. Had her New Year been the one she’d been anticipating so eagerly? Probably not, if Vernon had not relented towards her. Her sympathy for Lilian was only brief, until she remembered the last time she had seen her, the lies she had told the patrons in the Orchid. With hindsight, from this distance, it seemed astonishing that she could have prompted such a reaction. In light of what had happened to Edward, it seemed awfully trivial.

  As days became weeks, Evelyn did not feel any more at home in West Coombe. Her family were polite, occasionaly almost seeming to care about her. But the sense of her betrayal was heavy in her home. They did not trust her. Not once did they ask her about London or her new friends. Not once did they suggest that she might want to go back. It was treated as an embarrasing incident not to be spoken about, to be forgotten, if not forgiven. Evelyn found it easier not to talk too much when she was with her family, adopting a sombre, taciturn diposition that could easily be taken for grief. She did grieve, but she also strove to protect herself from her family’s disapproval. She regained a routine of helping in the shop, of helping her mother with housework and cooking and the occasional walk along the harbourside. She did not feel like her old jaunts onto the cliffs. She did not spend time daydreaming or reading. When she was not working, she was mostly trying not to think.

  Her heart ached for Edward. But she knew that his was not the only loss she was mourning. The more time passed, the more she began to wonder about Jos. She believed she could trust Dorothy to tell Jos what had happened. But she had not left a forwarding address, so even if Jos did want to write to her, she could not. Besides, what would such a letter be? A goodbye? Evelyn was not sure she could stand the finality of that. Despite everything, she still loved Jos. If those two nights and few glorious hours with Jos were all she was to be allowed, then they would have to sustain her for the rest of her life. She was fairly sure she would never love anyone else in the way she loved Jos. She was certain she could never love one of West Coombe’s men in anything like the same way. The thought repulsed her. There was only Jos now, and she was separated from her, perhaps forever.

  Of course, it was entirely possible Jos would not want to write to her anyway. By now, she’d probably met a more interesting woman, or realised Evelyn was too naive and inexperienced for her. Or maybe she’d descended into the drinking again and didn’t care about anyone. Evelyn hoped she was happy. And she went on, knowing she was unlikely to ever be truly happy again. If only she could have talked it through with Edward. Asked him how a butterfly was supposed to fly when its wings had been crushed. He’d flown away himself now, leaving her stranded. She almost wished she could follow him.

  *

  The sea was dark, invisible in the night but for the white foam where it surged and crashed at the rocks on either side of the bay. The horizon was only perceptible because the sky was dark grey, not quite the deep black of the water. It was cold, the air full of spray. The sound of the waves and the wind in the trees on the cliffs above was all pervasive. Tonight, the North Bay was a place to lose yourself, not to think.

  Evelyn wanted nothing more than to lose herself. Perched on the sea wall, built to keep back the power of the waves, her legs hanging above the sand, she did not care that she was cold. She felt it but enjoyed the numb, creeping sensation of it spreading from her extremities and towards her core. She felt reckless, drunk with grief and loss.

  To end it entirely would be easy. To slide from the wall, cross the sand, let the waves wash around her ankles, then higher. She would have to wa
lk out to sea to accomplish it. The beach was very shallow. But the tide was high and it would not take long to vanish. Just as he had done. As everything had done.

  She knew this beach in the sunshine. She knew it as a place of family and bright days. Never again. Those things were permanently eclipsed and could never emerge from the shadows. Shadows she had cast herself.

  Perhaps she was a coward. She was certainly more of a coward than he had been, for she knew she would not take that walk into the water. Living with the pain seemed a just punishment for her actions.

  Yet did she repent? She asked herself again and again. Was she really in the wrong? Or had she simply been keeping a promise, more important than any other she’d made?

  The rain started to fall, the edge of the approaching storm. The water soaked through her thin cardigan and the cotton dress beneath and cooled the last heat in her body. She felt the drops running over her scalp, her hair growing heavier with it, until the curls at the front were slick on her cheeks. Though instinct urged her to seek shelter, she would not. She would stay here. Perhaps she’d catch an awful fever, could take to her bed and pretend there was not a world outside. Just as the world seemed to have forgotten her. She let the rain soak her clothes, the wind lash her wet skin, and she shivered and remained where she was, hidden by the weather and the night.

  At least half an hour had passed since the rain began. The tide had progressed towards her, the waves now beneath her feet, just touching the sea wall with each swell. She had stopped thinking, finally achieved the state of not caring about anything which she had so desired. A low rumbling sound blended with the wind and the waves. It was only when a flash of yellow light briefly came from behind her, casting her shadow against the approaching sea, that she took full notice of the accompanying sound, startled. Fear of being discovered was her first emotion and she turned, intending to stand and walk up the hill into the trees. Tonight she wanted only to be alone, numb.

  As she rose to her feet, Evelyn gave an involuntary cry of pain. The cold had made her muscles stiff. She was forced to lean on the wall, pausing before she could flee. A motor car approaching along the coast road was not so unusual these days. But somehow, this car in the night-time felt like a threat. The illumination of its headlamps was too much to bear. She did not want to be seen.

  Too late, she managed to walk a few paces towards the trees. The motor car, its rumbling engine now louder than the wind, rounded the corner and she was caught fully in the beams of light. Like a rabbit, she stopped, turning to stare, blinded as she looked fully into the two illuminated circles. The car itself was just a dark shadow behind them.

  Abruptly, the car stopped. Evelyn, who had been expecting it to drive straight past her and leave her to her misery, felt her heart beat harder. Now she was afraid, of the stranger behind the wheel who had so obviously stopped because they had seen her at the side of the road.

  She wanted to run, but stood transfixed instead, watching and waiting as the driver’s door opened. A figure emerged, tall and broad shouldered, hatless.

  A flicker of recognition warmed Evelyn for a moment, a flash of colour and light and joy, a world half remembered. But the cold edged it out. Not here, it was impossible. Too far away.

  “Evelyn?” a familiar voice called.

  Heat flooded back through Evelyn’s veins, even as the incomprehension dizzied her. Relief made her breathless, as the driver of the car walked towards her and clasped her cold, weakened body in a strong embrace.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Jos held Evelyn, squeezing her close. Evelyn’s clothes were sodden, her hair plastered to her head, and she was shivering. Hot tears rose in Jos’s eyes and she cursed herself for not coming here sooner. It didn’t matter how much whisky she drank, how many times she tried to tempt herself by gazing at other women, she only wanted Evelyn. To have left Evelyn to the disapproval of her family, without so much as a note, had been a horrendous misjudgement.

  Of course, Vernon, Dorothy, Clara, and Courtney had tried to persuade her to write to Evelyn. She only knew the address because Evelyn had left the letter from her sister, Annie, behind at Dorothy’s house. But she was still at odds with herself. If Evelyn had not left an address, perhaps she did not want to be contacted. Although she had good reason to return to West Coombe because of Edward’s suicide, maybe Evelyn was actually glad that she was able to return. Vernon had told her what had happened between Evelyn and Lilian. Maybe that had been the last straw for Evelyn and she’d just wanted the simple life of home. Who was she, Jos, to bring havoc and confusion to that?

  But now, holding Evelyn, feeling Evelyn’s response to her, she finally admitted that she was wrong. Evelyn needed her, and she needed Evelyn. More than that, she loved her with her whole heart. If nothing else, their separation had taught her that. If it meant they would not be separated like this again, Jos was prepared to overcome her fear and commit to this woman. If it wasn’t too late.

  In the end, it had been Vernon who had forced her to come to Devon. He had borrowed the car himself, from a friend in Kensington. Jos was a better driver, but Vernon had accompanied her. She wondered if he’d joined her to ensure she made it to her destination and did not get cold feet along the way. She would not have done, but she did appreciate her brother’s support. Several times along the journey she thought of Evelyn’s loss, of how Edward Hopkins had galvanised Evelyn’s life by starting her on her journey to London, and of how much grief Evelyn must now feel. Losing their parents had been bad enough but she could not imagine the pain of losing Vernon.

  And so Vernon had occupied the passenger seat all through the long journey from London to south Devon. They’d begun with first light and only arrived now, after dark. The motor road swung down past one of the bays before entering the town. Jos’s intention was to drive into the town and hope that Main Street would be as obvious as it sounded. However, as they passed the bay, she had seen the bedraggled figure in the headlights and recognised Evelyn at once. Relief and love fought for the uppermost place in her heart as she had called out to Evelyn and caught her in an embrace.

  Now Evelyn pulled back a little to look into her eyes. “You’ve come. I didn’t think you would.”

  “I’m so sorry, Evie,” Jos said softly. “So very sorry. I was an idiot. I’m such a coward, you know. But I’ve learned my lesson. These past days and weeks without you, they’ve been the worst of my life. I want you in my life, Evie.”

  Evelyn’s hand came up to stroke Jos’s face with cold fingers. Jos leaned in to her caress. “I’ve missed you, Jos. I didn’t write because I thought perhaps you’d be glad to be rid of me and move on.” Her voice shook slightly, thought Jos was not sure if it was with the cold or with emotion.

  “Please don’t ever think that again,” Jos replied. To hear such assumptions from Evelyn made her desperately ashamed of herself. “I will never want to be rid of you, I’m sure of it. I’m sorry it took me so long to come to my senses.”

  Evelyn smiled. “I love you, Jos. It’s the one thing I’ve been certain of, through everything.”

  Jos’s heart leapt with joy. “And I love you, Evie. With all of my heart.” Jos closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against Evelyn’s.

  They stood that way for a long moment, heedless of the rain. Then the passenger door of the car opened.

  “Might I remind you both that it’s raining and we have a perfectly decent car with a perfectly waterproof roof?”

  Evelyn looked to the car, surprised to see Vernon. Jos smiled. “Vernon persuaded me to come and find you,” Jos told her. “It wasn’t just Vernon, of course. Dorothy was furious with me. In the end she said she wouldn’t speak to me until I saw you.”

  Evelyn smiled and turned to Vernon. “Thank you,” she said.

  Vernon nodded. “Good to see you, Evie. And you’re welcome. Once again, I remind you of the rain.”

  Jos took Evelyn’s hand and led her to the car, helping her climb into the rear seat, sliding
in at her side. Vernon sat in the driver’s seat. “So what do we do now?” he asked.

  Evelyn looked thoughtful. She grasped Jos’s hand tightly. “I think we have to go and see my family,” she said.

  “Very well,” Vernon replied, starting the engine. “But you might need to direct me. And I hope to goodness you’ve thought of what you’re going to say to them.”

  *

  The journey from the North Bay to her family’s home took only a few minutes by car. Evelyn found it unusual to direct a vehicle through the dark streets of the town. Jos and Vernon were looking about them with curiosity. They seemed entirely out of place here, much as she had done in London. If she had not been nervous about taking them to see her family, she might almost have laughed at them. She sat close to Jos, wrapped in her arms, drawing heat from her body. Every part of her began to melt into Jos. It was almost surreal that Jos should be here, in the midst of her misery. She hoped desperately that she was not dreaming. If she was, it was the happiest dream of her life and she did not want to wake up.

  By the time they made it to the house, a vague plan had formed for what they would say to Evelyn’s parents. Evelyn, inspired to confidence by Jos’s presence at her side, led them into the kitchen, where they found her mother and father, and Annie. Peter was out of the house somewhere. It was a shame, Evelyn thought, that she would not see her younger brother before she left. She already knew she would be leaving tonight. As she glanced around the familiar kitchen, her resolution did not falter.

  Her family’s faces showed various degrees of annoyance and surprise as their daughter and two well-dressed strangers entered the room.