The Promise (51 page)

The mention of Etienne brought a flood of new tears. It was him she wanted, but that had been denied her too.

‘Do you remember I wrote and said it was a French soldier who rescued Jimmy? Well, it was Etienne,’ she blurted out.

‘Etienne!’ Noah exclaimed. ‘How could it be? I don’t understand.’

‘Jimmy had a letter a while back now from a friend in the same regiment. He named his rescuer as Sergeant Carrera. He was awarded the Croix de Guerre because he singlehandedly took out a big gun and got himself a hero’s death.’

‘He’s dead?’ Noah gasped. ‘Oh, no. Not him too?’

‘I’m afraid so. It was because of the medal that they got all the details.’

Noah frowned. ‘Can you be sure it was Etienne? Not just another man with the same surname?’

‘Jimmy’s friend said it was a man they’d met before, near Verdun in 1916. Jimmy described him to me, and things that had been said, and I just knew it was him. Besides, it all sounded so typical of Etienne, disobeying orders to take Jimmy back behind the French lines to safety. Jimmy always said the man had called him by his name too.’

She wasn’t surprised to see Noah’s eyes fill with tears, she knew how much he’d liked and admired Etienne. And she felt a surge of relief that she could talk about the man to someone who cared as much as she did.

‘Didn’t Jimmy tell you he’d met him in Verdun?’

‘No, but then he never knew the French sergeant’s name. It was clear though that Etienne knew his; Jimmy said he asked him questions about where he lived in London and suchlike.’

‘Etienne always did play his cards close to his chest. I had a couple of letters from him earlier on in the war,’ Noah said. ‘I was astounded he survived Verdun, not many of the French came through that. We talk all the time of British casualties, but the French lost even more. Twenty-five per cent of their army have been killed. But I thought he was indestructible. Stupid really, no man can be that.’

‘I thought it too, Noah,’ she said and put her hand on his arm. ‘Look, I never admitted this to Jimmy or Mog, but I saw him in France. He came to the hospital.’

She told Noah briefly how it came about. ‘He told me he was going to put you down as his next of kin. Of course, it might have slipped his mind, but don’t soldiers get reminded to do that before a big battle?’

‘Yes, they do. Even if they’ve got nothing more than a watch or a spare pair of socks, the CO gets them to write it down. If Etienne did do this I should have been informed of his death.’

Belle hadn’t thought of that. ‘Well, I don’t suppose the French are as organized as us. With so many casualties it must be hard. And maybe his CO hadn’t passed the information on to someone who could write in English.’

Noah nodded. ‘Yes, that could delay things. He said in his last letter – that was back in April, I think – that he hoped when the war was over I’d bring Lisette and the children down to Marseille. He wanted us to see his farm. I could never imagine him with chickens and pigs. But then he was always full of surprises. Why would he put me down as his next of kin though? Surely he wouldn’t want to leave the farm to me? He knows I know nothing about farming.’

Belle realized that as soon as Noah was notified about Etienne he would be even more puzzled by why he had left the farm to her.

‘I think he planned to leave it to me,’ she said.

Noah stared at her for a moment then frowned. ‘Why would he do that, Belle? Wouldn’t Jimmy have found it strange? Not to mention suspicious?’

‘Yes, I suppose he might have.’ Belle could feel her colour rising because of the way Noah was looking at her. ‘But Etienne said you were the one person he knew he could trust to deal with it, and he said you would be able to explain to Jimmy that it wasn’t strange or troubling as he was my friend and rescuer in Paris.’

‘Etienne would think that way, but I doubt Jimmy would have agreed,’ Noah said thoughtfully. ‘I’m not sure that I would either. After all, I remember how you felt about him back when we were leaving Paris. I always suspected it was returned too. How did you feel towards him when you saw him again?’

Belle had forgotten how intuitive Noah could be, and years of journalism had honed his skills.

‘You fell for him all over again?’

It wasn’t a question but a statement, and Belle couldn’t deny it. ‘Yes,’ she said in a small voice. ‘So help me, I did.’

The silence was broken only by the ticking of the clock in the hall.

‘You considered leaving Jimmy?’

‘No! Well, maybe for a little while I wondered if I could do it. It was a moment of madness, my friend had been killed, I was so sad. And I suppose I was swept along with Etienne saying that one way or another we’d be together eventually. But he went back to the front, and then Jimmy was wounded and I came back to England with him.’

‘You must’ve been in turmoil,’ he said in a hushed tone that was so sympathetic she felt she must admit how bad it had been for her.

‘Yes, I can’t even begin to describe it,’ she sighed. ‘I wrote to Etienne the same night I heard that Jimmy was wounded. I said he must not contact me again. He only wrote back to say he understood and wished both Jimmy and me well.

‘Of course I know now he stuck to that because he was dead. But back then I was riddled with guilt. I even felt Jimmy being wounded was a kind of punishment for me. I tried really hard never to think about Etienne, but it was very hard when Jimmy was being so cold and difficult.’

Noah just sat there deep in thought for a little while. He lit a cigarette, and Belle looked at him nervously, wondering what was going through his mind.

‘The most astounding thing about this is that he rescued Jimmy!’ Noah burst out suddenly. ‘His way to have you would have been clear if he’d ignored him. But then, he did have his own kind of honour; I know if I was ever in a tight spot, I’d want him beside me. And you haven’t told Mog any of this?’

‘No, how could I? I was tempted to go and confide in Lisette when I first came home. I was feeling so wretched, ashamed of what I’d done, and I felt she was the one person who might understand. But I couldn’t. I thought it better to blank him from my mind and concentrate on rebuilding my life with Jimmy.’

‘So how did you keep your feelings for him in when you heard he’d been killed? That must have been so hard, especially when Jimmy was being so difficult.’

‘Yes,’ she admitted. ‘The hardest thing, and Jimmy kept talking about it. But it’s all over now, both of them have gone. And I must pick up my life and start again.’

They could hear Mog coming back down the stairs, and Noah changed the subject and went back to his earlier suggestion that they went away for a little holiday.

‘That would be nice.’ Mog’s face lit up. ‘We could go to Brighton. I’ve always wanted to go there.’

Noah stayed for about another hour, and before he left he asked Mog if she wanted to go ahead with him finding a buyer for the pub. Mog must have given the subject some serious thought while she was upstairs because she said she would.

‘You do have Garth’s will?’ he asked.

Mog said she did and asked if he wanted to see it. ‘He left everything to me, except for some money for Jimmy and Belle.’

‘You must take it to his solicitor then,’ Noah explained. ‘It has to go through Probate before you have the right to sell the property. But the solicitor will explain all that to you. Now, do you need any money to tide you over?’

‘No, we’re all right,’ Mog said. ‘Garth always had some cash tucked away. He wasn’t very trusting about banks.’

‘Well, if you need some more, just ask,’ Noah said.

As he was about to leave he asked Belle if she’d seen her mother recently.

‘No, she didn’t even bother to reply when I wrote and said Jimmy was wounded. There was a box of chocolates at Christmas, but not even a note with it. Then in February I got the briefest of letters asking why I hadn’t been to see her. I wrote back saying that I didn’t have time to go across London to visit with a crippled husband to care for. I haven’t heard another word since. We haven’t told her about Garth’s and Jimmy’s deaths.’

‘My advice would be not to inform her,’ he said with a little smile. ‘Relatives have a habit of coming out of the woodwork when people die. And as I recall, Annie isn’t the kind to come visiting unless she wants something.’

‘Our relatives are thrust upon us. Thank goodness we can choose our friends,’ Belle laughed. ‘And you’ve been the best of friends, Noah.’

He kissed them both goodbye, reminding them that he and Lisette were on the telephone if they wanted to talk about anything, and that they were welcome to visit whenever they liked.

‘I’ll look for an agent close to here and come back when they want to value the property,’ he said as he left. ‘Until then, you go away and have a real rest.’

Three weeks after Noah had called on them, Belle and Mog returned to the Railway after ten days in Brighton. The agent Noah had asked to find a buyer for the property had come up with someone who was extremely keen to buy it. Now they just needed Garth’s solicitor to tell Mog she was legally entitled to go ahead with the sale.

‘It’s lovely to do nothing for a while, but I don’t think I’m ready to be a lady of leisure just yet,’ Mog said as she put the kettle on. She looked around the kitchen and frowned. ‘My word, it’s gloomy in here! I never really noticed before, but I suppose after our lovely room on the seafront being so full of light, anywhere would seem dark.’

Belle smiled. Mog had really perked up while they’d been away; she talked about Garth and Jimmy a great deal, but in a positive way, as if she was coming to terms with their deaths. She talked about the future just as much though, wanting to go into tea shops, being critical of their baking, and discussing improvements she’d make if it was her business. They had studied advertisements for properties too, and light-heartedly argued about where they’d like to live. Mog favoured somewhere in the country, but Belle felt a small market town would be better for both of them.

Yet all the way home on the train Mog had been talking about giving the pub and their living quarters a spring-clean, and Belle thought she’d had a change of heart and wanted to stay. She’d enjoyed walking on the promenade in Brighton, she thought the pier was wonderful and loved going to the theatre and the music hall. But it was quite clear that she missed her domestic chores. In the last few days Belle had noticed her checking the hotel’s banisters for dust. She’d tutted over the brass knocker on the front door which hadn’t been polished and she’d begun to criticize the evening meal. But her remark about the kitchen being gloomy suggested she’d be even happier doing domestic chores somewhere new.

‘Then we’ll make certain that wherever we move to is light and bright,’ Belle said.

Mog looked at her, her head cocked on one side like a little bird. ‘You can’t wait to leave here, can you?’

Belle thought the time had come for complete honesty. ‘No, I can’t,’ she admitted. ‘All I can feel here is sadness, I’m numb to anything else. I don’t think that until we lock the door here for the last time I’ll ever come out of it.’

‘Jimmy gave you a hard time, I know that,’ Mog sighed. ‘I tried to talk to him about it several times, but he wouldn’t listen. You are right, it’s best that we move on and try just to remember the good times we had here, not the sad ones.’

Belle put her arms round Mog and hugged her. Words were unnecessary. As always, Mog was resilient, loving and understanding. And they both knew that wherever they went or whatever they did, they could be happy again as long as they were together.

‘Will you go through that pile of post?’ Mog asked a little later, indicating the heap of letters she’d picked up as she came in and put on the table. ‘I’ll make the tea and a list of groceries we need.’

Belle sorted through it. There were more letters of condolence for both her and Mog from people who hadn’t got to hear of the men’s deaths until recently. A few bills, and a great many advertisements for everything from chairs and tables for a bar, to glasses and new beers. Among them was a letter from Vera from France.

Belle had written to her friend while she was in Brighton and told her about Garth and Jimmy dying. But it seemed their letters had crossed in the post, because Vera was planning to go home to New Zealand.

‘I’ve had enough
,’ Belle read.

‘I’m exhausted, I’ve got boils on my neck. I look like an old lady, and I really can’t bear the misery all around me any longer. Men are dying like flies of this Spanish flu. The hospital has been shelled several times, driving at night with no lights is a nightmare. I’ve done my bit, now I want to see my mother and father, to sit and look at clear blue sea, and have no responsibilities. That sounds so selfish. And I suppose it is. Anyway, by the time you get this I’ll be on my way to England. I’ll only have three or four days there before I get the ship home from Southampton. My plan is to go straight to London, I’m really hoping I can stay with you, but if you can’t manage it, I’ll find a cheap hotel somewhere near. Don’t even think of going to any trouble. Just to see you will be the very best tonic anyone could give me. I hope seeing me will cheer you too.

Your loving friend Vera

Belle whooped with delight. Vera’s letter was dated a week earlier, so she might very well arrive tomorrow.

‘Good news?’ Mog asked.

‘Yes. Vera’s coming on her way back to New Zealand. I can’t wait to see her.’

Mog smiled affectionately. ‘I’m glad. An old friend to make you laugh and to remember that you’re still young, that’s just what you need right now.’

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Vera pulled a silly face as Belle opened the door to her. ‘I hope you got my warning letter?’ she said. ‘If you didn’t, you’ve got two seconds to shut the door.’

Belle laughed. ‘I did get it and I was thrilled to hear you were coming,’ she said, reaching out to take her friend’s suitcase. ‘But I suspect you didn’t get the one from me that must have crossed yours in the post.’