All I Have to Give (26 page)

‘Please don’t. It would hurt my parents-in-law; they wouldn’t understand. I will have to explain now how I came to be talking to a man, and a stranger at that. They are
grieving for their son. I’m carrying his child.’

‘I understand. But what about when all this is over? You say you will go back to England? Perhaps I could write to you there?’

‘No. Look, give me your home address and, when it is safe for me to do so, I will write to you there. I promise.’

‘Safe? You are very mysterious. I am most concerned for you.’

‘Please don’t be. I’m fine. I’m just worried about how it will look, if you contact me. I can get in touch with you when I know it’s safe to do so.’

‘Very well. I will wait and look for the post every day. And, until I’m home, I will badger my mother whenever I can, to let me know if any post arrives for me.’ As he said
this, he pulled out a notebook and flicked through the pages. She could see that some pages had drawings of birds and others of woodland animals.

‘You draw beautifully. But it’s strange that you then hunt down and kill those same animals.’

‘Only for food. I love to camp in the wild and be self-sufficient, be at one with nature. Now, here’s my address. Enid, I’m sorry, I don’t want to scare you or disrespect
you, but I have to tell you: you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.’

A blush crept over her cheeks. A twinge in her stomach shocked her. She looked up at him. ‘Thank you. For a lady to receive such a compliment, in the condition I am in, is very
special.’

‘You are special. May I kiss you? I know that is forward of me, but it is the way of life now. I may never get another chance.’

‘I would like that. I, too, do things that I wouldn’t normally do, driven by the thought that so much may pass me by.’

His lips felt soft and wonderful as he kissed her lightly. She wanted more – a deeper kiss – but couldn’t make the move to make it so, and knew that Laurent’s good
manners would prevent him from taking that liberty.

They came out of the kiss, but Laurent’s arms still enclosed her. She looked up into his eyes. ‘I really hope that we will meet again. And I – I need to tell you that my real
name is Edith, not Enid. I was afraid to tell you the truth. Please don’t ask me why, not now. But when I write, we will all be safe and I will tell you everything.’

For a moment he stared at her. She could see that he was confused, but she couldn’t leave him without mentioning her real name and letting him know there were things he had to learn about
her.

‘I am mystified by you, but understand. The times we live in dictate what we can do and say. Edith. Edith – I like that; and it’s what I thought that man shouted. Just tell me
that you are in no danger.’

‘I’m in no danger, but I am not in my rightful place and where I want to be. Something happened that I can’t speak of, for fear of betraying others and putting them in danger
of losing everything. Once the war is over, then I can speak. Then you can make up your mind if our . . . our friendship can continue.’

‘Edith, I want more than friendship with you, and at this moment I can see nothing that would prevent it. At least, I mean, if you feel the same way?’

She knew that she did. That somehow she had met her soulmate, in the middle of nowhere, and whilst she was trying to cleave herself from the guilt she felt about Albert.

‘I do feel a connection to you. Keep safe.’

‘Edith . . .’

His arms tightened around her once more, crushing her bump as his lips met hers, this time setting off an explosion of the feelings he had awakened in her. And she responded with all that she
was.

She pulled away, unable to take any more. ‘I – I have to go. I – I’m sorry. I wish this is all there ever was, for eternity . . . You, me – this peaceful
wilderness. Oh God!’ A shiver rippled through her. Into her mind came a picture of Albert.

‘Edith, I’m so sorry, forgive me. You must still be grieving and in need of comfort. I didn’t mean to take advantage of that. It was very bad of me. Please don’t be
afraid. It won’t happen again until you are ready.’

‘Goodbye, Laurent. Goodbye.’

He went to protest, but let her go. Silent tears wet her face as she walked away. The hateful deceit she had played out added to her guilt.

Once out of sight, she realized she still had his handkerchief. Squeezing it tightly, she sat down on the cold grass and called out softly, ‘Mama, Mama, I so need you. I want to come home.
I want to come home. I’m sorry.’

Low Moor, mid-December 1916
The cross she bears becomes heavier

Just as joy had been Ada’s companion as she’d stood on the platform a week ago, hopelessness was now. The prosecution had dropped the charge of murder and entered
one of manslaughter. It didn’t matter how much Grayson Berry pleaded against it; the judge allowed a full acquittal of the charge of murder on the grounds of self-defence, and agreed to the
lesser charge of manslaughter, saying that the defendant would know from his training that the technique used in the throw he subjected the victim to could result in serious injury or death. Aye,
it was better than the one of murder, but as Grayson pointed out, it would be more likely to attract a ‘guilty’ charge, as the jury would feel they had somehow given a just verdict on
the loss of a man’s life. Whereas with the murder charge, if they weren’t sure, they would have to bring a ‘not guilty’ verdict and Joe would have been free.

From her position, sitting stiffly on the wooden bench of the public gallery, Ada could see Joe. He stood facing the judge. A hush had descended. Joe’s face showed the strain of the last
few months. New lines had appeared around his mouth and he’d lost weight. His cheekbones protruded, leaving hollow dents beneath them.

The first time she had been allowed into the courtroom to watch proceedings, after her own testimony had been heard and cross-examined, Joe had glanced up at her and had given her a reassuring
wink. Grayson had told him off for doing so, as it had been seen by the jury and could be construed as saying, ‘We are getting away with it!’

This had horrified her, and wiped away all the pleasure the wink had given her. Now, as she remembered it, she thought,
Oh, Joe. How I long to hold you.

The judge’s words droned on, but the only ones she heard were ‘detained at His Majesty’s pleasure for a total of five years’. In that moment she thought it was a long
time to wait to hold him, but she
would
wait. No one else would take his place. She allowed a tear to plop onto her cheek, as she saw them take Joe down to the cells. The clanging of the
chains around his ankles and wrists grated on her, making her want to scream at the injustice of it all, but she stayed still.

She didn’t know how long she was waiting there, but when a voice called her name she realized she was the only one left in the courtroom.

‘Ada. Ada!’

Looking down, she saw Grayson.

‘Come on, I have gained permission for you to speak to Joe, but you will have to hurry, as they don’t hang around. They’ll take him to Leeds Prison overnight, and then tomorrow
to wherever his sentence is to be served.’

She was happy just to be close to Joe for a moment. ‘Oh, Joe, I’m sorry. I’ve brought all of this down on you.’

‘Eeh, lass, you haven’t. I should have taken Paddy’s blow and not attacked by way of defence, or retaliated. I have a lesson to learn. Not being able to go to war when all of
me pals went was a big blow, and then the jibes of “coward” got me down. Sometimes the jibes came with violence and so, despite me bad heart, I trained in self-defence, and that gave me
reactions that I didn’t think twice about using.’

‘Why didn’t Grayson use that in your defence? It would at least have given a reason for why you acted like you did. As it was, the jury were left thinking you were defending yourself
and did so in an angry way, and with hatred, against the husband of the woman you love.’

‘I know. I just didn’t want to use it as an excuse. Paddy is dead because of what I did. What if I killed someone else who thought of me as a coward? No. I’ll be safer in
prison until this war is over.’

This made her cross, but she wasn’t about to show it. These moments were precious. ‘Joe, you’ve never held me. Not really held me.’

‘And I can’t now, with these irons on me. Oh, me little lass.’

‘But I can hold you, my darling.’ Reaching out to him, she held his head to her breast. ‘The memory of this embrace has to last us a long time, Joe. Always think of it, and I
will remember the feel of it and be waiting for you. The first thing I’ll do when you come out to me will be to hold you. Keep thinking of that, Joe, and we will get through this.’

Her words belied how she felt. She wanted to scream and scream, but his bravery stopped her. He was prepared to take his punishment – a punishment that extended to her, as the next five
years would be a living hell for her. But she would follow his example and face it with courage. She would be as courageous as he was.

On the train home Ada read everything she could see on the newspaper that her fellow passenger opposite her was reading. It kept her mind occupied. Each time he turned the page
and folded it back over the others, she would see headlines like ‘Lloyd George to Form a Coalition’, or others to do with the war’s progress. Another read: ‘Woman Burned to
Death in House Fire’. There was no good news in the newspaper – nothing to hold on to. But then one headline hit her and shook her body: ‘Miss Edith Mellor Still
Missing’.

Looking out of the window, Ada tried to imagine what it would be like to be kidnapped by a murderer. Rene had told her the story of Edith one night as they had sat together talking. Ever since,
Ada had remembered Edith in her prayers, and had even asked her lads to do what they could by asking some of those saints that they must know by now to help this courageous female doctor.

Edith was a heroine. Rene had said that this is what all the papers had called her, and had outlined Edith’s work in a hospital on the front line of the Somme. They had written about how
much her colleagues had loved her, and thought her the bravest person. This courage would bring her through, wouldn’t it? God, she hoped so.

When she turned back to the newspaper, shock trembled through her. There, in large letters, was the headline ‘Cowards Shot at Dawn Should Be Named and Shamed!’

Something about this headline had her recoiling into her seat, yet unable to take her eyes off the article. For some reason it triggered the memory of the letter that had come about
Jimmy’s death, and made her question why the death-penny had never arrived. Nor his last letter – a letter each soldier wrote before they went into battle. A letter that was sent to
their family, if they were killed. Why hadn’t any of his personal belongings arrived, either?

Her blood ran cold. Her thoughts gathered pace.
Not me Jimmy. Please God don’t let that be what happened to me Jimmy!

As this thought died, she remembered that young Harold Smithward had returned home injured. She hadn’t known him as well as she’d known Eric and Arthur, as he lived a few streets
away, but she had known that he was one of the pals who left at the same time as Jimmy. She would stay on this train, instead of getting off at the first stop near Rene’s, and travel to Low
Moor and visit him. Maybe Harold knew how Jimmy had died.

Her thoughts went back to Edith and to her courage.
Well, the same applies to you, Edith, as does to Joe. I will bind what courage I have to yours, as well as to his, and even though I have
never met you, Edith, I know doing so will help me. Aye, and I’ll pray every night for your safe return, lass.

Letting out a deep sigh, Ada hoped and prayed that, whatever she learned from Harold about Jimmy’s death, she’d find strength in the binding of her own courage to Edith’s and
Joe’s, and that doing so would help her to bear all she had to face.

The trudge up the hill to where she remembered Harold and his mother lived tired her. But Ada’s determination didn’t waver. She had to know the truth.

It shocked her to see the big lad that Harold had been reduced to a gangly, gaunt-looking young man with one arm. She’d not known about the injury he’d sustained. After greeting him,
she asked outright, ‘Tell me the truth, Harold. What happened to me lad? Was he shot for cowardice?’

A look of astonishment and shock crossed Harold’s face, but then he stood tall and said, ‘I’m sorry, Mrs O’Flynn. I would never have said owt, if you hadn’t asked.
And I’ve told no one, but aye, Jimmy was shot for cowardice. Oh, he weren’t a coward. There was no one braver, but it looked bad, him shooting his hand off.’

‘What! Oh God!’ The impact of this last knocked her sideways. Her Jimmy shooting his own hand off – why?

A small woman appeared at the door and stood next to Harold. Ada assumed it was Mrs Smithward, Harold’s mother. ‘Here, Missus, I don’t know you well, but I know of you, and
you’re welcome to me home. Come on in and sit down. I’ll make you a brew.’

Harold helped Ada into the small parlour with the one arm he had left, and she was grateful for this. It was an airy room, with its scant furniture lovingly cared for, yet it felt welcoming,
which she was grateful for. Sitting in the stiff-backed fireside chair, Ada found that she couldn’t speak for a moment. Then the door to the side that led to the backyard opened, and Ada was
shocked to see young Betsy standing there.

‘Hello, Mrs O’Flynn. I – I’ve missed you since you moved.’

‘Eeh, lass. I’m sorry. I had such a lot to deal with and – well, no time left on me hands, with the work at the factory and everything. Are you alreet, lass?’

‘Aye, I am. I’ve been helping Harold. After you left, he was me only link to Jimmy. We’ve been a sort of prop to each other.’

Harold smiled across at Betsy. It was clear that he saw her as more than just someone who was helping him.

‘I’m glad, Betsy, love. We all need a distraction, and I wasn’t there for thee. I hope you can forgive that.’