Evelyn watched as men in uniform stepped from the train at Central Station. She searched their faces, finding only strangers. There were a few American uniforms here and there around the place but they were growing scarcer with each passing day. Everything was changing once again. The war was winding down.
Everyone said it was only a matter of time until Japan surrendered. Then things would go back to the way they were . . . only Evelyn knew that was impossible. Nothing would ever go back to the way it was. The country had been changed forever. Nothing and nobody had been left unaffected by the last six years of war, and nothing would ever be the way it was before.
It had been six weeks since Jimmy’s plane went down. Six of the longest, coldest weeks of her life. Her parents had wanted her to return home, but she couldn’t go back to Townsville. She couldn’t bear the thought of seeing him everywhere she looked, being haunted by memories of their happiness. There was nothing left for her there. She had no idea what she was going to do. Her parents would disown her, and she knew she couldn’t count on her aunt and uncle’s hospitality for much longer—especially when it started to become obvious she was pregnant.
She was numb inside and would have still been locked away in her room had it not been for a telegram arriving two days ago to tell her Roy was travelling down on the train to see her. He’d taken shrapnel in his leg, but was able to walk, albeit stiffly, and had arrived back in Brisbane only to be told by her father that she was still in Sydney.
She could have listened to the part of herself that just wanted to curl up and die, to lie in bed until she faded away. She wanted very much to do that, but Roy deserved more. She owed it to him to be there to greet him, and smile. During their time apart, he’d written to her, not regularly, and not long romantic letters, that wasn’t Roy’s way, but his letters were filled with hope for a future. He wrote of his dreams for the farm they’d buy and his desperate wish for an end to all the mud and death and fighting. She could hear the quiet determination beneath his words.
She hadn’t been able to bring herself to tell him about Jimmy. God knows, he didn’t deserve to find out through some cold, impersonal letter. She hadn’t meant to hurt him; she’d planned on waiting until he got home and at least giving him the courtesy of a break-up face to face. But then it was too late; she was sent to Sydney and everything changed.
After Jimmy’s death, her parents had called and advised her not to mention the Yank, that it was kinder to Roy that he never know about her indiscretion. If only life were that simple. Maybe she could have gotten away with the lie, never told Roy about Jimmy . . . if she hadn’t been pregnant, that was. However, within a few short months her so-called indiscretion would become all too evident. No, it would be kinder to tell Roy what had happened. She would tell him and let him walk away. Then she’d work out what she and her child were going to do.
Only, as Roy stepped down onto the platform and she saw his face light up at the sight of her, guilt threatened to suffocated her. The words stuck in her throat. Babies were born early all the time. Her baby would have a secure future . . . No, she thought violently. She couldn’t lie to him. She knew she had to at least give him the opportunity to walk away. She’d tell him the truth and let him decide her fate.