Alice sat on her bed, staring out at the blue sky, broken up with its cotton wool clouds. The shafts of early morning sunshine held little warmth or cheer for her. As usual, the tears didn't feel very far away. Her eyes glistened as she looked at Arthur in his cot. ‘Hello, my little man.’ She scooped Arthur into her arms and he rewarded her with a beaming smile. Alice stroked his soft, tiny fingers. ‘So, what do you think of your mother going back to work then? I really don't know if I have made the right decision.’
Arthur waved his arms and kicked his legs frantically, as he gurgled his opinion. His eyes never left her face as she lowered her head, to give him a light kiss on the forehead. ‘Your grandma and Mrs Headley are going to love looking after you, all day today, while I shall miss you so much, but as they say, sacrifices need to be made. There's a war on you know.’ She stared down at Arthur's chubby face. ‘Your father will be home one day.’ A solitary tear tripped over her eyelashes. ‘I have to keep the faith. I suppose Father’s right; without that, we have nothing.’
Arthur's smile disappeared and his bottom lip quivered.
‘Don't get upset, Arthur. I have to leave soon and it's going to be hard enough.’ She spoke to him in the singsong voice he loved and he immediately smiled. Alice pulled Arthur close. Sighing, she stood up and opened the bedroom door. With one hand gliding across the top of the banister, she walked down the stairs.
There was no mistaking Molly's excitement, coming from the sitting room. ‘I can't believe Alice is coming back to Foyles.’ Her laughter travelled through the house. ‘I'm amazed old Leadbetter asked her; he's a stickler for doing the right thing. I must admit I’ve missed her.’
Sarah's laughter reached Alice in the hall. ‘I think she would have been back sooner if she hadn’t been so worried about me, although it’ll be hard for her because, while she’s always busy, she’s never left Arthur all day before. I must admit there’s no denying I’m excited at having him all to myself.’ The smile gradually faded from her voice. ‘It’ll do her good to be amongst her beloved books again.’
Resentment gripped Alice. She didn't want to share Arthur; he was all she had of Freddie. She spun on her heels to go back to her room, before shaking her head and turning back again. Taking a deep breath, her nose wrinkled as the faint aroma of coffee caught her. She avoided touching the door as she stepped into the sitting room. The sun's rays reflected off the mirror above the fireplace, spreading brightness and warmth.
Molly jumped to her feet, grinning from ear to ear. ‘Morning, Alice, I hope you don't mind, but we thought we’d walk to work with you this morning; you know, keep you company just in case—’
‘Morning Alice.’ Victoria tilted her head to one side. ‘We know it's early and we didn't mean to wake everyone…’
‘You haven't.’ Alice's dark rimmed eyes bounced from one to the other, her vacant stare giving nothing away. ‘I didn't realise I’d have an escort to work.’
‘We, we just thought…’ Molly bit her lip as she fidgeted from one foot to the other.
‘Don't worry.’ Sarah stood up. ‘Everything’s fine and it's lovely to see you girls.’ She took a step towards Alice. ‘Would you like me to take him?’
Alice stared at her baby and squeezed him close, before giving him another kiss.
‘Don't worry, I shall guard him with my life and we’ll have fun.’ Sarah smiled at her grandson, who was looking at her with wide eyes. ‘Yes, we will, won't we Arthur?’
Arthur gurgled his delight.
‘I know, Mother.’ Alice's vision blurred, as the tears gathered momentum. ‘I just hate to leave him for so long.’
Sarah nodded. ‘I know, but I promise he’ll be fine.’
Alice stretched out to place Arthur in her mother's arms, before turning to Victoria and Molly. ‘I suppose we should be going.’
They both nodded as one.
Alice looked back at Arthur and her mother, but they were already lost to each other. ‘It doesn't look like I'm going to be missed.’ Her hands twisted together in front of her. ‘So we had better get going.’
Victoria touched her arm as she walked into the hall. ‘At least you know he's in good hands,’ she whispered.
Alice nodded and picked up her grey lightweight jacket. She pulled it together to fasten the buttons. She turned to glance in the mirror. It had been her favourite jacket for years, but for the first time, she wasn't happy with the way it hung so loosely on her. She shrugged her shoulders and grabbed her handbag. ‘We are off now.’
‘Bye. I hope your day goes well,’ Sarah chirped back. ‘Molly, give my love to your parents.’
‘Will do, Mrs Taylor.’
The three girls left the house and walked a few steps in silence.
Alice frowned and pushed her hair away from her face, as she stared down at the pavement.
Molly broke the silence. ‘It’ll be lovely to see you behind your counter again.’
Victoria followed her lead. ‘Mr Leadbetter only told us yesterday he’d asked you to come back. He said he couldn't get the staff, what with all the extra war work being done by everyone.’
‘I expect it’ll be strange at first,’ Molly chimed in. ‘But you loved working there, so I'm sure you'll soon get back into it.’
‘I'm sure,’ Alice mumbled, concentrating on the way ahead.
Victoria placed her hand on Alice's arm and stopped walking. ‘What is it? Is it leaving Arthur? I'm sure your mother will look after him. Is it—’
‘No.’ Alice's lips straightened into a thin line. ‘I’m pretty sure Arthur will be fine.’ She sucked in her breath, through pursed lips. ‘He looks more and more like Freddie every day; the constant reminder that he’s all I have of him. What happens if he doesn't come back, or doesn't return the same man I married? I see it all the time at the station and the hospitals. The men are broken.’
Molly turned and glared at her friend. ‘Stop feeling sorry for yourself; at least you have Arthur. Women have lost sons, husbands and brothers. Some people have lost loved ones and are left with nothing at all.’
Victoria frowned at her friend's outburst. ‘Stop it.’
Molly ignored her. Her eyes glinted as she stared at Alice. ‘If Freddie returns home broken, be grateful he has come back to you, and help stick him back together. Some people aren't that lucky. Some people have no one.’
‘Molly.’ Victoria raised her voice.
‘Well, what do you expect?’ Molly glared at Victoria, before turning her anger on Alice. ‘If he came home right now, what use would you be to him? You’re not even holding it together for your beautiful son, let alone for someone that has seen horrific things that he quite possibly will never be able to remove from his mind. Instead of feeling sorry for yourself, you should be grateful for the good things you still have in your life.’ A tear slid down her cheek. She turned and carried on walking.
*
Sarah stood in the hall, holding a brown envelope in her hand. She stared down at it, instantly recognising Robert's handwriting. She pulled it to her chest and breathed a sigh of relief, before stepping quickly into the sitting room, not noticing her heels clicking on the tiled floor. Struggling to catch her breath, she reached out to grip the back of the nearest armchair. Her attention was immediately drawn to Arthur, who was fast asleep in his chair. She stood still for a moment, closing her eyes as she gasped for breath. The scent of the potted lavender Mrs Headley had left on the sideboard the previous day filled the room, distracting Sarah as she breathed. ‘Stay calm; you’ve your grandson to think about,’ she told herself. She took deep breaths, in a bid to control her breathing and the light headedness that was creeping over her. Slowly, she lowered herself onto the chair, leaning back to rest her head, not loosening her tight grip on the letter.
‘Is everything all right, Mrs Taylor?’
Mrs Headley's voice found its way through the fog that had gripped Sarah. She opened her eyes and gave her a weak smile. ‘Indeed, Mrs Headley.’ Sarah lifted her hand holding the letter. ‘It looks like we’ve a letter from Robert.’
The housekeeper nodded. ‘If you don't mind me saying, ma'am, it doesn't look like it's done you much good; you look quite pale. Can I get you a drink or something?’
Sarah gave a feeble laugh. ‘It's probably shock. He's been away nearly two years and it's the first letter we’ve had.’ She looked down at the envelope and turned it over in her hand.
Mrs Headley didn't take her eyes off her.
‘I think I’ll have some tea, please.’ Sarah smiled up at the housekeeper. ‘Thank you for the lavender.’
‘I've heard said that it has healing qualities, ma'am.’
Sarah nodded. ‘Yes, I think I was told that once.’ She paused as her mind wandered. ‘Poppy always grew it in the garden.’
Mrs Headley nodded. ‘It is popular, and I believe easy to grow.’
‘I didn't realise you were into gardening, Mrs Headley.’ Sarah arched her eyebrows. ‘Is there nothing you don't know?’
‘Plenty, ma'am.’
Sarah laughed. ‘Well, I hope you know we appreciate everything you do for us, and we all regard you as family.’
Colour flooded the housekeeper's face and neck. ‘Thank you, ma'am.’ She gave a slight bow. ‘I'll fetch your tea, ma'am.’ Mrs Headley spun on her heels and left the room.
Sarah looked around for the silver letter opener, but she couldn't see it, so she slid her finger under the envelope's seal and ran it along its edge. She pulled the opening apart and peered inside, before pulling out the single sheet of paper. She unfolded it. The paper was stiff, and brown rivulets ran, where it had got wet.
Mrs Headley came in and, without a word, left the tea things on the side table.
Dear All,
I hope everyone is safe at home. I hear snippets about life in Blighty, but not very much. Thank you for the parcels I have received, particularly the socks and balaclavas. They have helped keep me, and some of the others, warm. I particularly enjoyed the book you sent me, The Thirty Nine Steps. It helped keep me occupied so I’ve passed it on for some of the others to read. We all get quite excited when a parcel arrives and tend to share out the contents. I actually had some chocolate yesterday, which was wonderful. Yes, I have come to appreciate the simple things in life, like chocolate.
I keep a diary now; it helps to keep my sanity and I know it's a cheek to ask, but when you send another parcel, could you include writing paper for me please.
I know I haven't been a very good son, particularly with my letter writing, but I find it hard to think about you all at home. The last thing I want to do is cause you worry.
It has been freezing here in St Eloi, that's near Ypres, in Belgium, Mother.
Sarah smiled at her son's cheekiness; geography had never been her strong point, despite her extensive travels with Poppy, in her younger days.
We are continually wading in water and I don't think my feet will ever be the same again. I can't pretend I don't miss the normalities of life in London, or all the things I used to moan about, including my brother and sisters. On the one hand, I try not to think about it because then it becomes too hard to deal with, but I do fear I will forget what normal life is. Tell Charles not to rush into enlisting when he is eighteen, because the reality is horrendous. I am lucky to still be alive; I have seen plenty going to meet their maker.
A lump formed in Sarah's throat. She blinked several times to hold back the tears, pricking at her eyes like hundreds of needles.
I am hoping the powers that be will let me home on leave soon. I miss Mrs Headley's cooking and the thought of just sitting and doing nothing, which I do here, but it's hard to relax, not knowing when the next bombs or gunfire are going to rain down on you.
I have run out of paper, so I will sign off now. Don't be surprised if my letter has been censored when you receive it. I hope the others are all behaving themselves while I’m away.
Miss you all, keep safe and keep writing.
Robert xxx
Sarah's hands flopped down onto her lap. ‘He's alive,’ she whispered. She looked down at the letter. The tears coursed down her cheeks, coming to rest on her lips. ‘He's alive.’ The saltiness coated her tongue as she spoke. She leant over and picked up her cup of tea and sipped it, grimacing as the lukewarm liquid filled her mouth. Replacing the cup on its saucer, she hugged the precious letter close to her chest. How she’d love to share it with the others, but she enjoyed the time she had alone, so she could read it as many times as she liked.
*
George had been tempted to have lunch at the club, but he had looked in the restaurant area and the tables were all occupied. Edward had warned him more men were eating their meals there these days. He had thought it was because of the reported food shortages. George sighed, silently berating himself for not having thought of it earlier and reserving a table.
‘George.’ A grey-haired man waved from inside the restaurant.
George smiled and waved back, not convinced he knew who it was. He kept walking towards the library.
The club was as busy as usual, but the atmosphere had become subdued over the last few months. As he walked past, George glanced into the gaming room. The large windows were open and the dark green curtains billowed into the room, as the breeze caught them. It wasn't full, or as raucous as it had been a year ago. He looked around, not really expecting to find Luke in there. Men were playing cards, but there were no cigars burning away in ashtrays and no money piled high on the tables.
A middle-aged man laughed, as he laid his cards out for his opponent to see. ‘Right, I think you'll find your tab has gone up; you now owe me sugar and cigarettes.’
The older man ran his fingers over his greying moustache. ‘Don't tell the wife, whatever you do. She'll skin me alive.’
‘Don't worry, I won't hold you to it.’ The younger man smiled. ‘After all, if she does you in, who else am I going to play cards with?’
George chuckled at the banter that was being exchanged, but he did wonder if the shortages, and everything going up in price, were beginning to bite, even for the more affluent. Were they feeling the pinch along with everyone else, or did they just think it was inappropriate to be having fun? He shrugged his shoulders as he walked away. Luke was a lot of things, but a gambler he was not.
George walked into the Library and frowned as he spied Luke sitting reading his newspaper, in the usual corner, by the window. He began weaving between the tables and chairs, nodding his hellos to their occupants as he passed.
Luke peered over his newspaper, in George's direction. The pages rustled as he shook it a little, to straighten them. He closed and folded it, before placing it on the centre of the table.
‘Good day, Luke.’ George pulled out a chair and sighed as he sat down.
‘Morning, George.’ Luke pulled a fob watch from the pocket of his tweed waistcoat. He sprung the cover and studied the time, before snapping the lid shut again. ‘Perhaps I should say afternoon, George.’
George gave a weak smile, before picking up the newspaper, unfolding it and glancing at the headlines. He shook his head and without a word, folded it and put it back down.
Luke glanced down at the table, staring at the paper for a few minutes, before stretching out his hand to touch the corner. He pushed it slightly to the left, so it was straight and central to him. He pulled in his lips, before raising his eyes to look at George. ‘Is there any news?’
‘Shall we order coffee?’ George twisted in his seat, to get the steward’s attention.
Luke sucked in his breath and his body tensed in the chair. ‘That doesn't sound good.’
George looked back at him, squinting as the sunshine caught him. ‘Not at all. To be honest, I don't have much in the way of news.’
The steward cleared his throat.
George looked up. ‘Can we have two coffees, strong ones please.’
The steward nodded and walked away.
‘I can't abide weak coffee.’ George raised his eyebrows. ‘As I said when we spoke, a lot of the people I knew have died or retired. I’ve spoken to friends of friends and they are going to try to find out some information, but you need to know they are inundated with work, so it’ll take some time.’
Luke arched his eyebrows. ‘Ridiculous, I know.’ He looked down at the table. ‘But I had been hoping for a speedy outcome.’
Without a word, the steward placed their coffee cups in front of them and walked away.
Luke glanced at George as he opened his mouth to speak, but he held up his hand. ‘I know what I said was unreasonable. It just goes to show I didn't think about others being in the same position; you know, looking for news of loved ones.’
George nodded. ‘Apparently, there are hundreds of people writing to Kitchener's War Office every day, hoping to get news.’
Luke nodded. ‘It stands to reason, doesn't it?’ His chest tightened. He held his breath. ‘Thank you for trying though. I know you didn't have to.’
Pity swept over George, as he watched the disappointment and worry chase across his face. He had never seen this side of Luke before and he realised something fundamental had changed in him. ‘I’ll stay on it, I promise, and as soon as I get news, I will let you know.’
‘Thank you.’
A middle-aged man rushed in the doorway of the library, gasping for breath. ‘There’s been an accident,’ he yelled, while holding his chest. ‘I don't know the details, but an ambulance crashed near Victoria Station. I was told the woman was in a pretty bad way, and apparently it doesn't look good.’
Murmurs travelled around the room.
Luke jumped up, knocking the table and spilling coffee into the saucer. ‘Was the woman driving it?’ he yelled, not stopping to think about the consequences of his outburst.
The man frowned. ‘I believe so.’
Luke's eyes glistened, as he stared down at George. ‘I have to go.’ He turned and grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair. ‘Sorry, but I don't know whether Alice was on duty today.’
‘Shall I come with you?’ George shouted at Luke's back, as he hurried out of the room.
‘I can't wait; I need to find Alice.’