The Lost Soldier (37 page)

“But my girl is here in France, sir. Two days is all I need, then she and the baby will both have my name, she will be an army wife and be looked after if… well, you know sir, looked after.”

“Sorry, Carter.” Captain Hurst spoke sharply. “Out of the question.” Seeing the man’s stricken face he added, “Ask me again in another few months. We should be able to spare you then if all goes to plan.”

Another few months would be far too late and they both knew it, but they also both knew that Tom would get no leave just now.

That evening when the others went off to the estaminet in the village for a few beers, Tom stayed behind and settled down to write a proper letter to Molly. He knew it would be read by an officer somewhere, maybe even Captain Hurst, but he had to forget that, forget that his most private thoughts would be scrutinised. The officers weren’t interested in declarations of love or marital problems, there were those in most of the letters they had to censor; all they had to do was to check that no information about places, dates and exercises had crept in as well, in case they were captured somewhere along the way.

My darling Molly,

I have been to see Sarah’s brother and explained our situation, though I didn’t say it was you. He turned down my request flat, as I’d been afraid he would do. You know the reasons from when I saw you. I can understand why, but it is a bad blow. He said to ask again in a couple of months, but by then I expect you will have to have gone back. I suppose you will have to go back to your father’s house and stay there until I can come for you. Surely your mother will help you with the baby. As soon as I can, I’ll come and take you away, and we’ll make a home for ourselves. This bloody war can’t last for ever.

My darling girl, I think you should confide in Sarah now and begin to make arrangements for your journey home. It’s not what I want, but I am sure in the long run it is best for you. I wish I could come to you straight away and hold you in my arms and tell you everything is going to be all right, but I can’t. Remember that I love you more than life itself.

Look after yourself and our little one. I send my love to you both,

Tom

When he had sent the letter Tom tried to settle to the routine around him. His company was sent up to the front again, and spent four days in the front-line trenches. Most of the time their day was reversed. At dawn and dusk there was stand-to, when every man took his place on the fire step, rifle levelled to watch for signs of a German attack. These early mornings, with grey light filtering in from the east, and mist rising from the damp of no-man’s-land, were the perfect time to attack, the sun creeping over the horizon, low in the sky, shining into the eyes of the rows of watchful men; and the evenings as the twilight drew the colour from the world, left a landscape of shifting shapes and shadows from which an enemy might suddenly emerge. The real work began after dark with the repairing of trenches, laying of wire, and digging of saps and tunnels. Tom’s company was not involved in this last, it was left to specialist troops, but there was always something and they worked all through the night, catching up on what sleep they could in the day. Shelling from both sides meant that they lived in a cacophony, a steady barrage of sound, with the occasional whine of a sniper’s bullet to remind them to keep their heads down. Tin hats had been issued several weeks earlier, and the men had got used to their tin lids, but even so an unwary head above the parapet could prove fatal.

At the end of their four days, they had lost Dick Tamper, killed as he helped lay wire in front of the trench, and Mick Jones had been sent back down the lines with a shoulder wound. The rest of the platoon were relieved and edged their way back down the communication trenches and returned to their billets in the farmhouse outside Mesnil. Exhausted, they fell into the hay and slept, but when they awoke, there was no rest. Everywhere there were more and more men, guns being moved, sinking into the quagmire that so many roads had become. The preparations were fast and furious now, and the men had no time to think about anything as they practised their attack, not as they had attacked before in a rush of men, but in lines across at walking pace. They trained with other companies learning their combined attack formations, practised clearing enemy trenches with bombs and grenades, and always the normal fatigues, parades and duties.

When they had been back for three days, Tom was called up the farmhouse.

“Freddie Hurst wants to see you,” Tony Cook told him when he’d found him in the barn reading his latest letter from Molly.

“What does he want, Cookie?”

Cookie shrugged. “Don’t know mate,” he replied. “Just said to find you and send you over. Wasn’t full of sweetness and light. What you been up to then?”

“Don’t know. Better go and find out.”

Tom went across to the farmhouse and reported to Captain Hurst. The officer looked angry and said without preamble, “I’ve had a letter, Carter, from my sister. Do you know who my sister is?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And where she is?”

“Yes, sir.”

“She says it’s her maid, Molly Day whom you’ve made pregnant. Is that right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And it was Molly Day who you wanted to go and marry when you spoke to me before?”

“Yes, sir.”

“My sister is sending Molly home,” Freddie Hurst said. “How could you get yourself and her into this mess, Carter?” Freddie spoke with angry frustration. “For God’s sake, man, why couldn’t you have kept your hands off her? It’s a disgrace for her and for my sister. She brought her here to live in the convent where my aunt is a nun, a nun for god’s sake, Carter, and you, having been nursed back to health in that very hospital, pay them back by putting one of their nurses in the family way. What the hell have you got to say for yourself, man?”

“I met Molly when I was in the hospital. We fell in love and wanted to get married, only Molly was under-age, see, so the padre said no. When I had three days’ leave in March I went back to St Croix and we spent the afternoon together.”

“And this baby is the result.”

It was a statement, not a question and Tom nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“My sister wants me to give you your two days, so that Molly can go home a respectable woman,” Freddie said. “She’s going to write to my father and explain the situation to him.”

“Does she have to do that, sir?” asked Tom. “It’ll make things very difficult for Molly.”

“The idea is that it makes things easier,” Freddie said coldly. “My sister will do what she thinks is best for Molly. She’s very fond of the girl. She’ll be left on her own at the convent now. She’s determined to stay even when Molly has gone. However,” he looked hard at Tom, “that decision has nothing to do with you. You realise, Carter, that I can’t do what she asks, don’t you? I can’t give you a leave pass with the push about to start, whatever my sister insists.” He managed a rueful smile. “What I will do is give you compassionate leave to go the moment this picnic is over. After the attack there will be supply units going back and forth. I will give you a permit to go back with one of them. Sarah will bring Molly to Albert on her way home. You’ll have to meet there and find a padre who’ll marry you. Maybe the one who’s at the convalescent hospital, what was he called?”

“Mr Kingston.”

“Yes, Kingston. Well, Carter, I’ll write to Sarah and tell her what I’ve said,” Freddie Hurst said, “but you’ll report back to me within three days, understand.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

“Don’t thank me, I think you’re a damn fool. Thank my sister if you must, she seems to think well of Molly despite everything.”

“Surely you know her as well, sir,” ventured Tom.

“I do,” agreed Freddie. “She’s a maid in my home, but that’s not why I’m letting you go.”

He pulled a paper towards him and filled in the details of Tom’s pass. “I don’t know the date of the attack,” he said. “Could be any day now. I’ve dated this for 8th July. Something should have happened by then, but if we haven’t attacked by then, you can’t go, understand?”

Tom said, “Yes, sir,” and Freddie looked hard at him.

“You will tell no one about this, Carter. I don’t want trouble with the other men. I’m giving you this much against my better judgement.”

When Carter had left the room, Freddie Hurst sighed. He still knew he should not have issued a pass, but it was the thought of his own darling Heather, and their baby due in a couple of months which had persuaded him. Fear stabbed him, not for himself that he should be killed in the imminent offensive, but for Heather, a widow, his child left fatherless.

Threat of imminent death changes one’s perspectives and priorities, Freddie thought. He knew why he had issued the pass, but even with that knowledge, he also knew it was a mistake.

Tom returned to the barn with the pass safely in his breast pocket. He was glad Cookie wasn’t there to ask what Hurst had wanted. As it was, events overtook them so fast, that Tony Cook never gave Tom’s summons another thought. They’d had their evening meal when they were told to fall in with all their kit. Tom had hoped to write to Molly telling her that he would be coming very soon, but instead he found himself marching with the rest of the platoon, heading back to the front line. The roads were clogged with troops, all moving up to the front, and the murmur throughout was that this was it. The big push. At last they were going to attack the German lines.

Monday 26th June

My darling Molly,

As you will see I think it would be better for you to keep all the letters you have sent me so far. I would hate them to be lost and there is nowhere here I can keep them safe. So here they are, all except the last one which I will keep with me. I am sorry I will not see you for a while, but you will know that I think of you and our child all the time. You are my family. We are in our usual billets at present. Your cousin Tony is here and we are all in good heart.

Have you told Sarah yet? If you haven’t, I think you should. She will be a good friend to you and see that you get home safely…

Molly knew that she would have to tell Sarah about the baby very soon. It would not be easy to travel home on her own. She needed to make proper arrangements and she knew she could not leave it much longer. Very soon her condition would start to show. She already felt that Sister Marie-Paul was assessing her with suspicious eyes.

She can’t know anything yet, Molly told herself firmly, there is nothing to see.

Molly was right, there was nothing outwardly to show she was expecting. She had had to let her skirt out a couple of inches, and her breasts were fuller, but both these things were concealed by her voluminous apron. She was tired though. As she went about the ward she found herself longing to sit down, and if she did in the ward kitchen or the warmth of the linen cupboard, she dozed off at once, only to wake with a jolt and wonder how long she had been asleep and if anyone had noticed. Sister Marie-Paul would soon, unless she were very careful.

She decided not to tell Sarah until she heard from Tom. If he got the precious leave, then all would be well and it would only be a question of sorting out where they could be married. Each morning she prayed to a God she didn’t really believe in, asking that Tom should be allowed to come to her, and each day that no letter arrived she prayed again. When at last Tom’s letter did come, saying that he had been refused any sort of leave for months to come, Molly had cried for the first time. She read the letter sitting on the lavatory, where she knew she would not be disturbed by anyone, not even Sarah. Tom had done his best, but now he could only offer her his advice.

My darling girl, I think you should confide in Sarah now and begin to make arrangements for your journey home. It’s not what I want, but I am sure in the long run it is best for you. I wish I could come to you straight away and hold you in my arms and tell you everything is going to be all right, but I can’t. Remember that I love you more than life itself.

Look after yourself and our little one. I send my love to you both,

Tom.

Molly sat staring at the letter, the words becoming blurred as the tears coursed unchecked down her cheeks. She was on her own. She told herself she regretted nothing, but the idea of returning home an expectant mother and unmarried, terrified her. The thought of her parents’ home, bleak and cold in the valley, without the warmth of love to temper its coldness, filled her with dread. She knew Tom was right, but she kept putting off the day when she would have to admit to Sarah what had actually happened on the afternoon she had slipped away and Sarah had lied for her. Sarah would be so disappointed in her, and that mattered to Molly. She had always had great respect for Sarah when their relationship had been one of mistress and maid, but over their months together in France, as friends, she had come to love her.

Finally she braced herself and two evenings later she said, as casually as she could, “Sarah, I’ve got something to tell you.”

After her first exclamation of horror, Sarah listened without interruption as Molly poured out what had happened.

“I know he’d come if he could,” Molly repeated weakly as she finished. “He isn’t deserting me, it’s just that he can’t.”

“No,” said Sarah coolly, “I don’t suppose he can. So,” she looked across at Molly, “what are you going to do?”

“I’d like to stay here, if I thought they’d let me,” Molly said.

“Well, they won’t,” Sarah said flatly. “Apart from the fact of your disgrace, you’d be a liability. You wouldn’t be able to help with the nursing. They can’t spare anyone else to look after you and a baby.”

“I’d look after the baby,” Molly said stoutly.

“Of course you would. Even so, I’m sure you’ll have to go home. It would be far better for you both if you go home.” Sarah heaved a sigh and went on, “Oh Molly, how have you come to get into such a scrape? What on earth were you thinking of?”

“I love him,” Molly replied.