The Promise (40 page)

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Authors: Lesley Pearse

Tags: #Historical Fiction, #WW1

BOOK: The Promise
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Their wedding photograph was now back in its place on the small table by the bed, a further reminder of how they’d both believed that day it would be happy-ever-after. Belle was only twenty-three, and the prospect of living in a place for years where people shunned her and pitied Jimmy was just too awful to contemplate.

A week after taking Jimmy to Haddon Hall, Belle went back to visit him for the first time. She had made a real effort with her appearance because she thought it would please him. She had washed her hair the day before, and she’d put it up the way he liked it, with a few loose curls around her face. She’d painstakingly altered the red wool costume he’d bought her for their first Christmas together, so it fitted better, and shortened the skirt so it was just at ankle height as she’d seen in fashion magazines. Her red and navy-blue hat was one he’d always loved too; it perched on the side of her head at a rakish angle and needed a lot of securing. Over her outfit she wore her navy-blue cape with a fur collar because it had turned very cold.

‘You look very lovely today,’ Mr Gayle said as he opened the car door for her outside the station. ‘That should give your husband a real boost. Is it good to be back with your family?’

‘Yes, it is,’ she said. ‘Though it’s strange to have so little to do. I find the time drags. But that will change when Jimmy comes home.’

The wind was whipping the leaves off the trees, leaving a thick carpet on the country lanes as they drove out to Haddon Hall. Belle was cold and couldn’t help thinking of Etienne back in France and wondering how he was coping with the cold on top of all the other miseries soldiers had to face.

‘I spoke to your husband briefly yesterday,’ Mr Gayle said, bringing her guiltily back to her visit to Jimmy. ‘He seemed much more relaxed and was looking forward to seeing you. I’m sorry I can’t take you back to the station today, but there’s someone calling for Mrs Cooling, the wife of another patient, at four thirty, and he’ll take you too.’

Belle thanked him and asked how he and his wife had coped with the loss of their son.

‘Not very well at first,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘We were angry, bitter, we thought, “Why us?”, but then, so many have lost sons, brothers and husbands, we aren’t alone in our grief. In our village there is one widow who has lost all three of her sons. We are lucky to have two daughters and another son who is too young to be called up. Doing our bit for the wounded helps us. We’ve grown very fond of several young men who have passed through Haddon. Sometimes when I see the terrible wounds some of them have, and how difficult their lives will be because of them, I’m almost glad our John was killed outright.’

‘Yes, it’s cruel,’ Belle agreed. ‘I saw so many like that both in France and at the Herbert. I used to wonder how their families would manage to look after them.’

‘But your husband will improve.’ Mr Gayle reached out his hand and touched her arm. ‘Trust in that. Life won’t be the same for you as it was before the war, but you will be happy again, both of you.’

‘Yes, of course we will.’ His kindness prompted tears, but she bit them back. ‘We have a lot to be grateful for, and at least I’ve got some experience of the problems Jimmy will have to face.’

‘He told me you used to make hats. Maybe you could do that again at home, to give you an interest and bring in a bit of extra money?’

‘Yes, that’s a possibility,’ Belle smiled at him. She liked this man, for his warmth, kindness and practicality. She silently told herself she wasn’t going to wallow in self-pity any longer.

Jimmy was in much better spirits. He beamed at Belle as she walked into the orangery and introduced her to his three companions with obvious pride.

Fred, just nineteen, had lost both his legs, Henry just one leg, and Ernest had been blinded and was partially paralysed due to a spine injury. Belle spoke to each of them, asking where they were from and how long they’d been at Haddon Hall. They were all from South London, but only Ernest had been there for over three months.

‘My folks can’t cope with me at home,’ he said remarkably cheerfully. ‘But I don’t want to go home anyway. I like it here.’

Belle wheeled Jimmy into the drawing room a little later so they could have some privacy. She knelt down beside his chair and kissed him, and for the first time he responded with enthusiasm.

‘That’s better,’ she said, sitting back on her heels. ‘I’d begun to think that bit of Jimmy was left at Ypres.’

He smiled sheepishly. ‘I’ve been a bit of an idiot, too busy feeling sorry for myself.’

‘You had every right to feel sorry for yourself,’ she said. ‘Now, tell me about it here.’

As Belle listened to him describing how it had been, she realized that it was the peace and quiet, warmth and comfort rather than any treatment which had improved his spirits. The only sounds outside the house were of the wind, birdsong and occasionally of someone chopping wood, unlike in the hospital back in France where the heavy guns in the distance and airplanes overhead could be heard constantly.

The other patients were helping Jimmy too, as some, like Ernest, were far worse off than him and had no family visitors. Belle was pleased to hear Jimmy express admiration for his new friend. He seemed more optimistic about coping with his own disability as he’d been told that once the stump of his arm was completely healed he could be fitted with an artificial one, which he could use to support himself on crutches or to manoeuvre a wheelchair for short distances.

He had been reading, learned to play chess, and laughingly said he’d found he could hop out of the wheelchair on his good leg to the dining table, lavatory or bed.

‘Only trouble is, I’ve got to learn to balance myself,’ he said ruefully. ‘I forgot last night and fell over and couldn’t get back up. One of the lads suggested I hang weights on my left-hand side.’

Belle felt her heart lighten to hear him joke about it. She had been afraid that would never happen.

‘Would you like it if I got digs down here?’ she asked him a little later. ‘I could come and see you every day then, and Mr Gayle said I could do some driving.’

‘I don’t think that’s such a good idea,’ he said, surprising her by the sudden sharpness of his tone. ‘You’ve been away from home for long enough, and anyway, they wouldn’t want you coming here every day.’

On the train going home, Belle kept thinking about what he’d said. She doubted it was true that she wouldn’t be welcome at Haddon Hall every day; Mr Gayle would have told her if that was the case. ‘You’ve been away from home for long enough’ was more telling. He wanted Mog and Garth to keep an eye on her; he didn’t trust her any more!

She couldn’t be angry, as she knew she wasn’t worthy of trust, but she was saddened that he thought she’d find another man because of his injuries. Didn’t he understand she had suggested moving down here to show him she wanted to be close to him?

November came in with relentless heavy rain, making it impossible even to go for a walk to relieve the boredom. Mog was wrapped up in her household chores and didn’t want to share them however much Belle begged her to.

‘I like things done my way,’ she said fiercely. ‘You go and read a book or do some drawing. You just get under my feet.’

Belle offered to help Garth in the cellar, but he wouldn’t allow her down there because that was ‘men’s work’. She could see his back was aching with carrying heavy crates of beer, and she reminded him she’d grown used to lifting stretchers with heavier loads than that, but he still refused her help.

She tried sketching, but the only images which came into her mind were those of the station in France and the wounded being lifted off the hospital train. She did a few of them, but then put her sketchbook away. Drawing such pictures depressed her, and also made her think too much of the good friends she’d made in France.

On the second Sunday after Jimmy got back, Garth and Mog went with Belle to see him, and that was a good day. Mog had baked cake and made preserves to take with them, and both she and Garth were very happy to see for themselves that Haddon Hall was everything Belle had said. Mog cried when she saw Jimmy, and even Garth’s eyes were swimming. As it was a dry and sunny day, they took Jimmy out for a walk in his wheelchair, and all four of them enjoyed seeing the pretty countryside in all its glorious autumn colours.

Jimmy was in very good spirits. When they got back to the Hall he even demonstrated his hopping technique to get from the wheelchair to the table in the orangery. Yet when Garth asked when he was coming home, he said point-blank that he was in no hurry.

‘I’m better off here,’ he said, looking as though he felt cornered. ‘I like the quiet and the company when I want it. I’ll be no use to you in the pub.’

Thankfully Garth didn’t argue with him, perhaps he could see for himself that his nephew was better off where he was, but later, on the train journey home, Mog voiced her opinion.

‘He’s afraid of people staring at him and asking him questions about the war,’ she said. ‘How can we make him realize that London is full of wounded men? Most people have lost a relative or close friend, so they aren’t going to ask him anything.’

Although Belle hadn’t been out much since she got back from France, she knew Mog was right. Almost every man under fifty she’d seen was either in uniform or wounded. On her first day home she’d seen the pitiful sight of a man who’d lost both legs, begging outside the station. Mog had said such sights were even more common in Lewisham.

‘Well, he can’t stay at Haddon Hall for ever,’ Garth said.

As Christmas approached Belle took her courage in both hands, and without consulting Jimmy first arranged to see the doctor at his surgery in Sevenoaks before going to Haddon Hall.

Dr Cook’s surgery was in the front room of his house, a double-fronted villa quite close to the station. Belle had seen him twice before while visiting Jimmy, but never to speak to. He drove out to Haddon Hall in a pony and trap, a man of about sixty, portly and with white hair.

Once seated opposite him across his desk Belle noted his kindly, bright blue eyes and clear, rosy skin, and felt she could confide in him.

‘Isn’t it time my husband came home?’ she asked. ‘I know he doesn’t want to, but you’ve fitted him with an arm now and he’s doing quite well on his crutches. I feel he ought to be home with me, I’m living in a kind of limbo.’

‘You want him home?’ He sounded surprised.

‘Of course I do, and so do his uncle and his wife whom we live with. Did he tell you we didn’t?’

‘Not in so many words, but I got the distinct impression it was felt there were too many difficulties running a busy public house. I had planned to ask you to come and talk to me about it. We do need his bed at Haddon Hall, but you preempted that by coming today.’

Belle frowned. ‘His uncle runs the pub, his wife does all the housekeeping. I don’t have any role there. I am free to look after Jimmy. The only difficulty is the stairs, but I know he can get up and down the ones at Haddon Hall, even if he does manage it on his backside.’

Dr Cook smiled. ‘Yes, I’ve seen him do it, and very quickly too. Tell me, Mrs Reilly, why do you think he is reluctant to go home?’

‘His uncle and wife believe it’s because he feels people will stare at him, but I don’t agree. I think he’s afraid of …’ She stopped short, not knowing how to put it.

‘Afraid of husbandly things?’ he prompted.

Belle blushed. ‘Yes. He did say something once back in France. At the time he was still so badly hurt that I was surprised he had even thought about that! I’ve tried to talk to him about it a few times, but he always clams up.’

‘This kind of problem often crops up with amputees,’ he said. ‘They can feel they are only a half man, and it’s easier to push away the woman they love than expose themselves to possible ridicule or contempt.’

‘He surely knows I wouldn’t ridicule him or be contemptuous! I’ve been taking care of wounded men for most of the war.’

‘Reason doesn’t prevail for men who have been through what he has. It’s all trapped up here,’ he explained, tapping his head. ‘The horrors they’ve seen, their terror during assaults, the sound of the guns, even guilt that they survived when so many of their comrades didn’t. Add a badly damaged body and you have a man who feels worthless.’

‘So what can I do to give him back some self-worth?’ she asked.

‘I will tell him we need his bed and that he’s well enough to go home. That may well frighten him, so you and your family mustn’t make too much of it. No welcome home party, no people dropping by to see him. Just try to keep everything calm and normal. He may ask to sleep in a separate room from you; I’ve had men who insisted on sleeping on the floor. You must nip this in the bud, without making too much of it. If he gets his way, he’s likely to stay away from you. He will almost certainly have more nightmares, he might even be aggressive towards you sometimes. But if you can remain affectionate, without expecting much of a response, he will gradually revert back to the man he was before all this.’

‘What if he doesn’t?’ she said in a small voice.

Dr Cook smiled at her. ‘I have every faith that a beautiful, brave and loving woman like you can do whatever she sets her mind to. Go home today and make plans for Jimmy being there with you for Christmas.’

Chapter Twenty-Two

 

Belle stood at the living-room window upstairs watching out anxiously for Mr Gayle’s car. It was the afternoon of 23 December and he was due to bring Jimmy home at eleven that morning, but there was thick fog all over London and it was very cold.

Unpleasant as the fog was, at least it would prevent any further bombing raids. Just three days earlier it was reported that German planes had come in over the Kent and Essex coast, and more than sixteen people had been killed by bombs they’d dropped.

Belle had been to see Jimmy the previous week to take him civilian clothes, but he had shown no enthusiasm for going home. She wasn’t sure now whether she hoped Haddon Hall had decided to keep him there, or that they were just delayed by the fog. If he’d been stuck in a car for several hours in freezing conditions he was going to be very grumpy when he got here. Yet after all the effort she and Mog had made for Christmas they were going to feel very let down without him.

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