In Love and War (30 page)

Guy did not seem surprised. ‘I knew there was something,' he said slowly. ‘I sensed that there must be someone else in your life, and I've waited all this time for you to tell me.'

‘I couldn't,' she said sadly. ‘It was my problem.'

‘Did he feel the same?'

She shook her head. ‘I don't know. He never gave me any encouragement. He was kind to me when Ma died, and he singled me out for attention, but then he went off to war and that was that.'

‘I know it must be hard for you, Elsie, but I'm glad,' Guy said, smiling. ‘I'd have had to challenge him to a duel if I thought he'd been toying with your affections. It would have been pistols at dawn.'

She looked up with a gurgle of laughter. ‘You're barmy, you really are.'

‘But I made you laugh. I bet Henri couldn't do that.'

‘No,' she said thoughtfully. ‘I don't think he could.' She snuggled up against him, closing her eyes, safe in the knowledge that the closeness they shared was something special and priceless. She was comforted by his nearness, and he made her feel needed and safe in a world torn apart by war.

In some ways their enforced stay with the miller and his wife were halcyon days, but Marianne was never far from Elsie's thoughts. She was afraid for her and for Dieter too. Their affair was bound to end badly. Sometimes at night, when she was alone outside, staring up into the black velvet sky, Elsie chose a star and wished on it. She kept the secret to herself, hoping that it might come true.

WITH EACH DAY
virtually the same Elsie gradually lost track of time, but summer was drawing to an end. The miller and his wife went to market once a week and brought back newspapers, but these were printed in Flemish and with only a few words in that language Elsie was unable to make sense of the text. Photographs taken at the front were another matter, and needed no explanation. The names Ypres and Passchendaele leapt out at her and brought tears to her eyes, and she could see that Guy was also deeply affected. ‘My wounds are healed,' he said, looking up from the latest newspaper. ‘I should be back there with my unit, fighting the Hun.'

Elsie felt a cold shiver run down her spine. ‘Your broken bones might have healed but you need time to recuperate at home. You won't do anything silly, will you?'

He met her anxious gaze with a gentle smile. ‘I won't limp off into the sunset, if that's what you think. I intend to see you safely home before I report for duty.'

‘They might not send you back to active service.'

‘I'll have a damn good try, Elsie.'

‘It would be madness. I won't let you do anything so foolhardy.'

He turned to her with a question in his eyes. ‘Do you care so much what happens to me?'

‘Of course I do.' She met his gaze with a steady look. ‘No one could have a better friend or a kinder companion than you.'

‘I'm not sure that's a compliment,' he said with a wry smile.

She scrambled to her feet. ‘You know what I mean, Guy. Anyway, I'm going downstairs to help with the supper. This inactivity is beginning to get me down.'

He reached out to catch her by the hand. ‘You've stood by me all this time, Elsie. You could have gone home long ago if it weren't for me.'

‘We're getting maudlin. I'm going to speak to the miller and ask him to hurry things along. Heaven knows they must be eager to get rid of us. We're endangering their lives every moment we're here.'

The miller was in the kitchen, sitting in a chair by the range, smoking a pipe. Elsie put the request to him without any preamble. Although his first language was Flemish, he spoke a little French and they were able to communicate after a fashion, but he could not give her any information. All he would say with a shrug of his shoulders was ‘La Dame Blanche. We will have to wait.'

One evening in September when it was too wet to go outside, Elsie sat very still on her pile of cushions, listening to the steady pitter-patter of the rain on the roof tiles.

‘A penny for them.' Guy's voice broke into her thoughts, making her jump.

She turned her head to give him a vague smile. ‘I was thinking of home and wondering where I'll go when we do get back to England. I can't go back to Sutton Darcy, and I'm not sure how long I can stay with Felicia. I'm afraid I'm getting used to being a virtual prisoner and the outside world seems a strange and frightening place.'

‘I know what you mean.' Guy sat up, leaning his shoulders against the roughly plastered wall. ‘But I'm sure it won't be much longer, Elsie. They'll move us on as soon as humanly possible.'

‘I know, but it's so hard not knowing what's happening in the outside world, and I wish I knew what had happened to Marianne.'

‘I realise she's doing a dangerous job, but you risked more by making this journey with me.'

‘I wanted to do it, Guy. I don't regret it for an instant.'

He moved closer and slipped his arm around her shoulders. ‘Then what is it? Is there something you haven't told me?'

A reluctant smile curved Elsie's lips. ‘You know Marianne. She's a little crazy sometimes, and when she falls for someone commonsense flies out of the window.'

‘I know that very well. I saw it happen several times when we were in London. Who is it this time? Not Hendrick?'

‘No, silly,' she said, chuckling. ‘Actually, it was much more serious than that, and very dangerous. I didn't tell you before because I didn't want to worry you, but Marianne was seeing a German officer.' She shot him a sideways glance. ‘Don't look like that, Guy. It started out innocently enough, but she couldn't help herself. She loves him, or she thinks she does.'

‘For the first time since we started on this trek I don't feel guilty about taking you away from what I imagined to be a fairly safe assignment, or at least as safe as anyone can be in war-torn Europe.'

‘It was fate that threw us together again.'

He dropped his gaze. ‘I should be out there fighting for my country, and protecting the people I love.'

‘That's what got you injured in the first place.' She raised her hand to touch his cheek with her fingertips. ‘You're a hero, Guy. You very nearly gave your life for your country, and I'm proud of you.'

‘You are?'

‘Don't look so surprised. Of course I am.' She leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. It was a passionless gesture, such as she might have bestowed on a much loved child, but the colour flooded his cheeks and she realised her mistake too late.

‘Thank you,' he murmured, turning away. ‘I think it's time we got some shut-eye.'

‘Guy, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you.'

He returned to his bed. ‘You didn't. I just need to get some sleep.'

‘Yes, of course.' She felt suddenly alone and abandoned as he settled down with his back to her. The last thing she had wanted was to upset him. She had acted on impulse and she could still feel the imprint of his lips on hers. A sudden onrush of emotion threatened to swamp her. Whether it was pity for Guy, or her own sudden and desperate need for affection, she could not tell, but she needed to hold him and be held in return. She needed to feel that she was not alone in an alien world. She moved to his side and curled up against his body, slipping her arms around him and resting her cheek against his shoulder. He did not move, and for a moment she thought he must have fallen asleep, but then his fingers curled around her hand.

‘I'm here because I want to be, Guy,' she whispered. ‘We'll get through this together, or not as the case may be, and I'm glad I came with you.'

His grip on her hand tightened. ‘Are you still in love with the Frenchman?'

The question came as a surprise and she stiffened. ‘I – I don't know.'

‘But you still think about him. You told me so.'

‘Yes. No, I mean I don't know,' she said softly. ‘The war has changed everything. It's changed all of us.'

He eased himself round so that he lay on his back, staring up into the rafters. ‘I've been fighting off the desire to take you in my arms and kiss you, but when we're back at home I'm going to do my best to make you forget you ever knew that French fellow.'

There was no answer to this, nor did he seem to expect one, and she closed her eyes, comforted by the nearness of him. This was a different man from the shy, unassuming person she had known in London. He was still kind and courteous but his experiences in the battlefield had added a touch of steel to his character that had either been hidden or she had simply overlooked in the past. She fell asleep clutching his hand as if it were a lifeline.

She was awakened by someone shaking her by the shoulder, and she opened her eyes to darkness. ‘Come.' The miller's wife shook her again. ‘Come.'

Elsie sat up, disturbing Guy who groaned and raised himself on his elbow. ‘What's going on?'

‘I don't know, but I think she wants us to go with her.' Elsie struggled to her feet. She was still fully dressed and she searched for her shoes. ‘I wish I spoke Flemish.'

The miller's wife moved to the doorway, beckoning furiously. ‘Come.'

‘We're coming,' Guy said, getting to his feet. ‘Can you see my boots anywhere, Elsie?'

‘I just tripped over one.' She found them and helped him to put them on. ‘It looks as if we're on the move at last. Can you manage the stairs?'

‘I'm fine. You go first and I'll follow.'

The kitchen was lit by a soft glow from the range and a cool breeze whipped in through the open door, bringing with it the scent of damp earth. The miller ushered them outside into almost complete darkness.

‘What's going on?' Guy demanded warily. ‘Where are we going?'

A man stepped out from behind the stationary sail. ‘I'm taking you to Holland. Come with me now. We must hurry. It will be light in a few hours.'

‘You speak English,' Elsie said eagerly. ‘That's wonderful.'

‘My mother was English, but that's not important. I have a boat which will take you part of the way.' He strode off towards the river that Elsie had seen in the distance on their arrival at the windmill.

She turned to the miller and his wife, who were standing in the doorway. ‘Thank you,' she said in Flemish. ‘Thank you.' She linked her hand through the crook of Guy's arm. ‘Are you all right?'

‘We'll hold each other up,' he said cheerfully. ‘Let's go before we lose sight of him.'

The river was about half a mile away, or so Elsie estimated, and she could feel Guy beginning to tire as they reached the place where their guide's boat was tied up alongside a mooring stage. Traces of flour on the wooden planks bore witness to the transport of produce from the mill, but there were no other craft in evidence. Their guide helped them to board the rowing boat and with a deft flick he released the mooring rope, climbed in and picked up the oars. The craft slid across the oily black surface of the river with barely a splash of the blades as they sliced through the water.

‘Are you taking us over the border?' Elsie asked in a low voice.

‘When we join the River Scheldt you will be transferred to another vessel which will take you to Flushing. I would think that arrangements have been made to find you a passage to England, but I can't be certain.'

‘It can't be that easy.' Elsie reached for Guy's hand and held it in a tight grip.

‘We have to reach the Scheldt before sunrise,' their guide said cheerfully. ‘But I am a champion rower, so you can just sit back and enjoy the scenery.'

Guy slipped his good arm around Elsie's shoulders. ‘We can't thank you enough.'

Elsie nodded in agreement. ‘So many heroes,' she said sleepily. ‘So many brave people we have to thank.'

She opened her eyes to a cold grey dawn. The silver surface of the river was pockmarked by falling rain. Guy had covered her with his jacket, but she was damp and shivering as the small boat drew alongside a huge barge. Their guide tossed a rope to a crewman and they were helped on board. There was just time to repeat their thanks before the rower pulled away and was lost in the mist. Elsie's teeth were chattering, but she was more concerned for Guy, who was soaked to the skin. His face was ashen and he was shaking with cold and fatigue. To Elsie's surprise it was a woman who emerged from the accommodation. She bustled towards them with a welcoming smile. ‘I am the captain's wife,' she said in English. ‘Come with me. You must get out of those wet things.' She led them to a comfortably furnished saloon that could have been the parlour of any house ashore. ‘My husband has some garments which might do for you,' she said, eyeing Guy critically, ‘and I have just the thing for you, miss.' She led Elsie to a cabin at the rear of the saloon and opened a drawer beneath the bunk. She sorted through the neatly packed clothes and selected a dark blue woollen skirt and a cream calico blouse. ‘These belong to my daughter, Anneke.' She chuckled and patted her ample belly. ‘We are much the same shape at the moment, but she will be slim again after the birth of her baby.'

‘You will be a grandmother soon,' Elsie said, smiling. ‘That's lovely.'

‘Anneke is staying with her husband's people in Amsterdam until the baby comes.' The captain's wife was suddenly serious. ‘We will have to go through a German checkpoint when we cross the border into Holland. It is usually straightforward, but in case we are searched you must pretend to be Anneke, and your friend will be her husband Wouter. Will you explain that to him?'

Elsie grasped the woman's hand. ‘We will be forever in your debt.'

‘Nonsense, girl. We are just doing our duty – no questions asked.' She made for the doorway. ‘Give me your wet clothes and I will dry them for you.'

‘How long will it take us to get to the border?'