Amy’s spirits were high, and even though the railway platform had been crowded with fellow passengers all wanting to exchange the glorious news, and the journey had seemed to take forever she hadn’t minded one bit. It was the 12th of November and everywhere was celebrating. All the towns and villages she had passed through sported flags and bunting, fluttering in the stiff breeze, and on the busy city streets passers-by stopped to smile and say how wonderful it was that war was over.
‘Give them brave boys in there a cheer from me, an’ tell ’em we’ve done for the Kaiser and the Hun,’ said the cabby, as she paid her fare outside the hospital’s front door. Assuring him that she would do just that, Amy pulled her thick, woolly scarf closely round her head to ward off the biting wind and hurried to get inside.
She was now an old hand at visiting and knew several of the doctors and nurses by sight, greeting them cheerfully as she trotted confidently down the long corridor. It seemed a lifetime since she had first walked its length worrying about where to go or saying or doing the wrong thing. Amy pushed open the door, a smile on her face.
Jude was sitting at a table littered with hanks of black wool and boxes holding all manner of bits and pieces. Alongside him, other men and nurses were doing the same. Last week he had woven a small cane basket, Amy carrying it home to proudly show everybody before placing it on the kitchen table and filling it with dried flowers.
Now, Amy nodded and smiled greetings to the nurses and the two women and a man who were also visiting their loved ones. She had spoken several times with the man, a retired colonel visiting his officer son, and both the women, one visiting her husband and the other her son. Talking with them had been a comfort; they were all in the same boat, desperate to regain the men they loved from the clutches of a war that had so terribly changed them, wanting nothing more than to release them from their torment and back to the men they had once been.
Amy went and stood at the worktable so that she was facing Jude. He was concentrating on stitching an eye in place, his own eyes narrowed and the tip of his tongue pressed against his upper lip – just like Kezia did when she was concentrating. Amy suppressed a giggle. Nurse Brennan looked up and said, ‘Hi there, Mrs Leas, isn’t it just great that the war’s over?’ Her smile was wide and Amy responded with one equally wide, but she couldn’t help thinking that for some of the men in Beckett’s Park, the war would never be over.
However, Amy agreed with the pleasant Irish nurse who had a soft spot for Jude, and at the sound of her voice Jude gave a start. He glanced this way and that, his face wearing the puzzled expression it so often wore these days. Then he saw Amy and his features crumpled into a half-smile. Lips trembling, he clumsily pushed back his chair and then shambled towards her. Amy clasped his hand and led him to the chairs by the window, pleased to see that he was walking more steadily than he had on her previous visits.
Before he sat down, she hugged him and kissed him on the mouth. His lips didn’t respond, but neither did he push her away as he had on other occasions. ‘The war’s over, Jude, isn’t it wonderful?’ she gushed, holding on to him. ‘Think of it, love! A world at peace.’
He pulled away from her and sat down heavily in the nearest chair, his face a blank. ‘Over,’ he echoed, but Amy wasn’t sure that he understood. For the remainder of the visit they talked about Kezia and other things, although Amy did most of the talking, and then she read him a chapter from Piccadilly Jim – Wodehouse always made him smile – and even though Jude was now reading for himself he liked listening to Amy. ‘Over,’ he repeated, as she closed the book, Amy unsure whether he was referring to the book or the war.
It was time for her to leave, and as Amy kissed Jude goodbye, she felt a faint, familiar stirring in his lips and before she knew it, he was kissing her as warmly and sweetly as he had in the past. It was their first proper kiss since the visits began, and the blood sang in Amy’s ears; he was coming back to her. When Jude ended the kiss, he gazed at her as though he was seeing her for the first time and then he sat down, a contented smile lighting his face and eyes. He appeared to have forgotten Amy was still at his side and, reluctantly, she left him with his thoughts and slipped quietly from the room.
Amy was almost afraid to believe in the progress Jude was making week on week, yet Dr Mackay had told her several times that the signs were good. Only last week he had said that whilst Jude still engaged in violent tremors and bitter speech, these fits were short-lived and increasingly rare. Amy had been delighted, and although Dr Mackay had warned her that Jude might have to contend with them for years to come, she was undeterred. She felt in her heart that Jude was recapturing his strong, beautiful spirit.
Now, she walked buoyantly down the corridor just in time to meet Dr Mackay coming out of his office. Falling into step with her, he asked had her visit gone well. She told him all about it, even the kiss, and before he left her in the foyer he said, ‘You may well have him home for Christmas, Mrs Leas.’