The beekeepers war, p.18
The Beekeeper's War, page 18
‘Whatever you want, just let me know.’
She gave him a grateful smile. ‘Thank you. I’ve written to Jack countless times but haven’t received any reply from him at all. I know you ask after him when you can, when you speak to the other men in your squadron, but I need you to try again. Maybe there’s some other way to contact him. Today, if you can?’
Monty frowned. ‘Pru, I don’t know how I can do that.’
‘You must try, Monty. I know I’m probably asking the impossible, but I have to know as soon as humanly possible if he’s … if he’s alive.’ Her voice broke with emotion. She cleared her throat. ‘Can you do that for me? Please?’
Monty nodded. ‘I’ll do my best for you.’ He studied her. ‘Is there a particular reason you need to speak to him? Is there a particular message you need me to send?’
She gave his question some thought but didn’t feel able to tell him the real reason behind her urgency. ‘No. I simply need him to know that I must speak with him soon. Today or tomorrow if I can.’
‘I’ll do what I can.’ Monty took her hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze.
‘Thank you, Monty. I know I’m asking a lot of you.’
‘I’m happy to try.’
Pru somehow managed to keep going by putting all her energy into her work.
Three days after she had asked for Monty’s help, he waved her over when she was about to end her shift. He had had a couple of officers visiting him that day but that wasn’t unusual.
‘You have news?’ she asked, plumping his pillows to seem busy. She was about to place the second pillow behind his head when she noticed the strain on his face. ‘Monty?’
‘Pull the screen around, will you, Pru?’
He asked without looking her in the eye and her heart plummeted. This was bad news, she sensed it with every instinct.
‘Sit down, please.’
She did as he asked and waited. Monty wrung his hands together for a few seconds. He seemed to be struggling to find the right words.
Eventually he looked at her and she saw unshed tears in his eyes. ‘Monty?’ she whispered, her throat tight with tension. ‘Is Jack…? Is he…?’ She couldn’t say the words. Couldn’t even think the words.
Monty pinched the top of his nose and took one of her hands in his. ‘Dear Pru, I…’
‘Just tell me any way you can. The message will have the same impact, whatever it is.’
She needed to know but willed him not to say what she sensed he was about to.
‘Dear girl,’ he said, gulping back a sob before clearing his throat impatiently. ‘Jack is … is dead.’
Pru heard the words as they echoed around her brain. ‘Dead?’ she murmured, her voice tight.
Monty nodded. ‘Do you wish to know the details?’
‘Yes,’ she said, not knowing if she could bear to hear what he had to say.
‘It seems that Jack and the other chap he tried to rescue escaped from where they had been held. Unfortunately, it appears it was only Falkner who managed to get back to safety. He’s in a hospital in France and badly injured.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I’m so very sorry, Pru. I would have given anything not to have to give you this news.’
‘I know you would, Monty.’ She felt strangely calm, even though all the colour had drained from her world and any joy she felt with it. ‘We both love him. We’ll both always miss him.’
‘We will.’ His voice quavered. ‘Will you be all right, Pru?’
‘I will have to be,’ she said, resigned to a future without the only man she had ever loved. ‘We’ll both have to be, won’t we?’
He nodded slowly and closed his eyes. She noticed he was struggling to contain his emotions and, not wishing to embarrass him, she leaned forward and kissed his cheek before leaving him to his grief.
As she left the ward, she heard laughter and wondered how the world could carry on when she had lost Jack. Her vision swam and she reached out for something to hold on to. Clutching a door handle and turning it, she pushed open the door and found herself in the sluice room. This was where she had been alone with Jack for the first time. How could someone as larger than life as Jack be dead? Unable to keep her legs from giving way a second longer, Pru slumped to the floor. She grabbed a handful of her skirt and pressed it to her mouth to muffle her screams as she gave in to the terror of having to live in a world where Jack no longer existed.
Pru had no idea how she managed to return to her bedroom, or how long she had sat on the side of her bed. She seemed to recall Jean popping her head around the door some time before and then leaving without saying a word. She still couldn’t believe that Jack was dead. Yet, in her heart, she knew that if he was alive, he would have found a way to contact her. She felt a strange fluttering in her stomach like tiny bubbles. Was that the baby moving? Their baby?
Pru wondered if people died from a broken heart. Right now she wished she could close her eyes and drift away to nothingness. She had thought that losing Milly was heartbreaking but somehow losing Jack was another level of grief entirely.
There was a light rap on the door before it opened and Jean walked in. ‘Monty told me about Jack,’ she said. ‘I’m so sorry, Pru.’
Pru swallowed away tears. ‘Thank you.’
‘Is there anything I can do for you?’
Pru took a breath, determined to force out the words before her courage failed her. Whether she liked it or not, Monty’s information had shown her that her time had finally run out. She had no choice now but to marry Peter. ‘Jean?’
‘Yes?’
‘Please write to Peter for me.’
Jean didn’t reply immediately and Pru could almost feel her friend’s shock. ‘I’ll do it today,’ Jean said eventually.
‘Thank you,’ Pru whispered, her voice tight with emotion. What had she done? She closed her eyes, desperate to calm herself before hysteria took over. She needed to be calm. To be strong. This wasn’t about her anymore. This was about her doing her best for Jack’s baby.
Twenty-Two
Pru
January 1918
Pru stood in front of the small, family-run hotel where Peter had booked rooms for them for her first night in Southampton. He had sent her a note to let her know where to meet him and that he would be waiting for her inside. All she needed to do was put one step in front of the other and go to him.
Pru took out the letter he had sent to her as she built up the courage to enter the building. The paper wavered in her trembling hands as she re-read it, knowing she should be relieved – grateful, even – and not heavy-hearted. This sweet man was doing a selfless and generous thing by marrying her and she must always remember that.
Dearest Pru, my friend,
I will keep this letter short but wanted you to know that I have always loved you and although this situation might not be as I had imagined things between us, I have no hesitation in accepting my sister’s suggestion. I will do my best to make you as happy as I possibly can.
I suppose I should ask you formally. So, dearest Pru, will you marry me?
If you wish to accept my offer of marriage, which I hope you will do, please send word to me letting me know when you are to leave Ashbury Manor to travel to meet me in Southampton. I will then apply for a special licence for us to be married and reserve places for us to travel back to Jersey on the mailboat a day or so after that.
I am to be discharged from the hospital in a couple of days and will have to return to Jersey as I have been pensioned out of the army due to my injury.
Please don’t worry that the damage to my shoulder will incapacitate me in any way, I might not be able to hold a heavy rifle any longer but I will still be able to work for my father at his printing works and support you and our family.
I am afraid that I do have one stipulation though, Pru. I’ve given this a lot of thought and hope you understand why I wish to put this in place between us. I would like you to promise never to reveal the name, or any other information about the father of the baby you are carrying. I would like the true parentage of our baby to be kept between ourselves, and Jean, of course. Will you be able to do that, do you think?
I look forward to us meeting again and renewing our friendship, and hope that one day you will love me at least half as deeply as I have always loved you.
Sincerely yours,
Peter
* * *
She stared at the immaculate white-fronted building, unable to force her feet to move. By stepping inside she was committing herself to Peter. Her heart pounded and she breathed deeply to calm her rising panic. This was her future now, she reminded herself.
She pictured the beautiful manor house and all the joy it had brought to her. Meeting and falling in love with Jack, sharing a room with Jean and dear Milly, laughing with them when they should be going to sleep. How had so much changed in such a short time? How was Milly no longer alive, or darling Jack? How was it possible she was here, standing on a pavement in Southampton trying to muster the courage to walk to a new life? A now familiar flutter in her stomach reminded her why she must have the courage to see this through.
Bracing herself to meet her future husband, Pru straightened her shoulders, forced a smile onto her face and walked shakily up the stone steps to the front door and into the reception area.
‘May I help you, Miss?’ a young, fresh-faced man asked.
‘Yes, please. My name is Miss Le Cuirot. I believe my fiancé has reserved a room for me. Sergeant Le Riche. He’s already staying here.’
The man’s eyebrows shot up when he heard Peter’s name. ‘Yes. Good man, the sergeant. You’re in Room Three. I’ll show you the way.’ He lifted a key from a hook above a row of cubbyholes on the wall behind him and stepped around the counter. He looked down at her case and reached to take it from her. ‘I’ll carry this for you, Miss.’
Pru thanked him and followed him upstairs, unsure when or where she should meet Peter. ‘Do you know which room my fiancé is occupying?’
‘I do, Miss, but we have a policy whereby unmarried couples aren’t allowed in the same bedroom together.’ He looked over his shoulder as he stopped at a painted door with the number three on it. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, slipping the key into the keyhole and turning it. He pushed the door open and waited for her to walk inside. ‘My mother’s a bit of a stickler about these things.’
Pru was hoping to be able to speak to Peter privately about their plans, but it seemed that they would have to take a walk to do so. ‘Not at all. I completely understand.’
She gazed at the sparse but clean furnishings in the small front bedroom. ‘It’s lovely and light in here,’ she said, hoping the bed was softer than it appeared.
He placed her case onto the floor and smiled. ‘I hope you’re happy here at Whitehaven. I gather you’ll be moving to a different room for a few days from tomorrow.’
‘Yes,’ Pru said, wishing she had longer before her wedding day. She took a penny’s tip from her coin purse and handed it to him.
‘Thanks, Miss. You must be very excited.’
‘I am,’ she lied.
‘If there’s anything else, Miss?’
She was about to say no but then had a thought. ‘If you might let my fiancé know I’ve arrived, that would be very kind. Please tell him I’ll meet him in the downstairs lounge area in ten minutes.’
‘Of course, Miss.’
‘Thank you.’
She watched him leave and stood in the middle of the room, trying to come to terms with finally being in Southampton. Well, this is it, she mused. This time tomorrow she would be a married woman. ‘Mrs Le Riche,’ she whispered, trying to get used to the thought that she and Jean would soon be sharing the same surname. Her heart ached painfully at the reminder that she would now never be Mrs Jack Garland.
Feeling a little wobbly about what was in store for her, Pru decided to sit and write a quick note to post to her parents. She needed to take her mind off what she was losing by marrying Peter and focus on her and Jack’s baby to keep from backing out of her agreement with Peter.
She took off her coat and hung it on the hook on the back of the door. Sitting at the small dressing table, she opened the drawer and was pleased to find a couple of sheets of paper and an envelope. So far, her parents were unaware of any changes in her life and she needed to give them warning that something had happened before she turned up on Peter’s arm on their doorstep.
Dearest Mum and Dad,
This is a quick note to let you know that I will be returning home to Jersey in the next few days. Things have changed for me and I have a surprise for you. One that I hope you will be very pleased to welcome.
Please don’t worry about me. I am extremely happy and looking forward very much to seeing both you and beautiful Jersey again, and sharing my wonderful news with you.
My love, as ever,
Pru x
She stared at the words and wished with all her heart that she was about to introduce them to Jack. Stop it. She folded the sheet of paper, slipped it into an envelope and wrote her home address on the front, deciding to stop at reception and ask to buy a stamp on her way to meet Peter.
After washing her face and hands, she brushed her hair and, feeling slightly fresher and a little calmer, left her room.
Pru walked down the stairs with butterflies doing a manic dance in her stomach. It was only Peter, she reminded herself. The same man she’d known most of her life. She took a deep breath at the bottom of the stairs, then, holding her letter, walked over to the reception desk.
Having bought the stamp and stuck it onto her envelope, she crossed the hall and opened the door to the living room, where she was relieved to find Peter waiting for her alone. She stared at him, watching him turn. He wasn’t as tall or as well-built as Jack, but when he smiled his sweet face lit up, clearly delighted to see her. In that instant, Pru’s nerves vanished. She needed to be brave. To put her feelings aside and at least try to behave as she imagined a soon-to-be married woman might behave. She might not be in love with this man but she would be forever grateful to him for his unselfish act.
‘Peter.’
He walked over to her and took her left hand in his right. She noticed he didn’t move his other arm and presumed it was due to the damage he had received to that shoulder. ‘Pru. It’s good to see you again.’ He looked her up and down. ‘My, you’re looking extremely well.’
‘Thank you.’ She smiled, aware that he was being kind. She had lost weight since discovering her shocking situation and the dark circles under her eyes belied her sleepless nights and many days crying. ‘I could say the same about you.’ She looked at his shoulder. ‘How is your shoulder healing?’
‘More slowly than I’d prefer but it’s much better than it was.’
He saw the envelope in her hand. ‘Shall we go for a walk so you can post that? Unless you’d rather stay here and have a chat about things?’
She shook her head, preferring not to have to face him when they discussed their wedding plans in case she gave away her true feelings. ‘Let’s go for a stroll, it’s such a lovely day.’
He held out his elbow and Pru slipped her hand through his arm before they made their way outside. ‘It is a little nippy,’ she said when they were standing on the pavement, glad her coat was warm enough for the cool weather. ‘If we can find a post box then I’ll pop this letter into it. I want Mum and Dad to have a little warning about us being married.’
She felt Peter’s step hesitate slightly, so stopped. ‘If you’ve changed your mind I will understand,’ she said, praying he would do no such thing.
Peter faced her. ‘Pru, you know I’ve been in love with you for years. The only reason our wedding will not go ahead is if you decide you’d rather not marry me.’
Pru had to clear her throat to be able to speak. If only she had that option, she thought miserably. ‘I’m ever so grateful to you for doing this for me, Peter. I hope you know that.’
He didn’t seem to know what to say. Then, pointing across the road, he said, ‘Look, there’s a post box. Let’s send your letter off and then we can have a proper chat.’
They ran across the road as soon as there was space in between the carriages, omnibuses and military vehicles.
‘Gosh, it’s very busy here today, isn’t it?’ she said
‘There’s a ship at the quayside and I have a feeling a lot of these vehicles are probably bringing soldiers for embarkation. Poor devils.’
How many of them would return in one piece? Pru thought sadly. ‘I do wonder when this terrible war might end,’ she told him. ‘It’s not only the soldiers I worry about, but also their families and all the widows and orphaned children who will have to find a way to make ends meet after the fighting ends.’ She thought of Jack and her mood dipped.
Realising Peter was replying to what she’d said, Pru guiltily pushed her thoughts of Jack from her mind. She had made her decision and needed to find a way to make the best of things for the baby’s sake, and for Peter’s, she reminded herself.
‘There,’ she said, pushing the envelope into the red post box. ‘That’s done. Right. Let’s go and have that talk.’
Peter led her to a grassy parkland and stopped at a bench near a copse of trees. ‘Shall we sit here for a bit?’
Pru did as he asked and waited for him to speak. She hoped the conversation wouldn’t get tricky for either of them.
He twisted around to half face her and took her left hand in his. ‘Pru, firstly I need to know you’ve thought everything through.’ She went to reassure him but he gave a shake of his head and continued speaking. ‘I need to say what’s been on my mind. I want to know that if we do this it’s for good and that you’re aware of what I’ll expect from you.’
‘That sounds ominous,’ she said, trying to make light of the concerns his words conjured in her mind.
