Disclaimer: I am not K.M Peyton. If I were, William would have survived the war and lived a long happy life with his aeroplanes and Christina, still oblivious to her fear of flying and happily being logical and grumpy and...and...*SOB*
Author Note: Hello all! I realised after receiving a (very lovely) review from neverwithoutyou on my story 'Her Beloved William' that it has been almost a year since I decided (and stated) that I would be doing a full length Flambards fic. All I have to say in my defence for this dreadful procrastination is "oops".
It has been a very busy year, with scary exams and tonnes of boring revision, but now that I am free for the summer I have decided I will start the full-length fic! Because I have another story already on the go- and because I made myself a promise (which I am currently breaking) that I would never have two full-length fics to worry about at one time- I have no idea how often updates to this story will be. Because this story is my alternative to the third book it may have some parts that are quite similar. There are also parts that I am undecided upon, such baby Isobel and Tizzy and other characters who I obviously love (especially Isobel!) because part of me feels they belong to Christina's life without William. This is why I am now pleading with you, possible readers;
If you have any opinions on the inclusion of certain events/characters from the third and fourth books please do tell me through a PM or reviews. Also, if there is something you would really like to see happen- for (a bad) example, Christina manages to drag William to a horse show and she catches him baby talking a horse- please do tell me and I will write it into the story. Because I am one of the William fans, I intend to include many fluffy flashbacks to Edge of the Cloud times, so if anything you would really like to see happen does occur from previous times it doesn't matter.
Wow. Large author note. Sorry about that! :-) If by any chance you are still here (and haven't fallen asleep or gone away in boredom) then here is the story.
Prologue- The First Goodbye
It was late September and already the air had become saturated with the usual damp, mouldy, autumnal smells. Gone were the days of summer heat, of summer breezes that teased the green leaves and bright flowers, of warm sunshine and open blue skies as soft as silk. Although most trees were still clinging grimly onto their leafy crowns, the ground was already strewn with the fallen foliage, a carpet of golds, reds, oranges and browns. It was stunning at first, seeing the grey of the cobbles become awash with colour, but after a light burst of rain the allure was gone. Now the people of Kingston walked with a squelch underfoot; not even the children, who had been delighted at the piles to run round and jump into, could quite face the idea of leaping into those slimy leaves.
Christina didn't usually take such notice of the weather, of the seasons passing. As a child, she had been far too occupied with other things, mostly trying to listen to the conversations of her various Aunts and Cousins or creeping to the bureau in order to steal glances at their letters to each other. She had never done such things with the intent to be nosey- she couldn't have cared less as to whether Cousin Jessica had bought a new hat, or if Aunt Maggie was fretting about the possibility of rain next Tuesday. But those letters and hushed conversations had been the only way for Christina to try and stay atop of her constant movement around the family. Passed around like baggage, with more than a slight suspicion that she was a pain and a nuisance to whoever was next given the task of being her guardian, Christina had been understandably anxious as to what her future might entail.
Besides, in the bustling heart of London, it didn't matter if it were the height of summer or the coldest day of winter; there was still soot and grime, still armies of sullen faced factory girls, still bad language from the jostling apprentice boys and that constant low rumble of trains and metal horse shoes on cobbles.
At Flambards she had been more conscious of the seasons and the changing weather, but even then she had never been an idle spectator, glancing out of her bedroom window and just happening to notice that the sun was encouraging the first blossom. The seasons dictated when hunting began and ended, and after that the weather had decided for her whether she ought to give in and go for a ride with Mark, or if she could get away with yet another day with William and the eccentric Mr Dermot. Flying days, she recalled being told, were days when the wind was gentle and obliging and when the air was calm and clear.
Even now, Christina didn't care so much about the weather. But it was not for herself that she had peered anxiously at the sky each morning for the last three days, both wanting and dreading gale force winds and torrential rain. Half of her, the mature and resigned half, quietly hoped that the conditions would keep and that the air would remain perfect for flying, so that when William did take off tomorrow morning and set out for the channel and France he would be as safe as possible. But how was she ever supposed to want such weather when it would only make William's departure easier?
Christina had known that this day would come. Though she had tried to ignore it, ever since the day Britain had declared war on Germany, Christina had known it was coming. She had buried it deep in her mind throughout the summer, wanting nothing more than to savour the happiest times of her life. During her wedding and honeymoon, Christina had continually been scared that she must have been dreaming, for those warm sunny days had been perfect- the best days of her life. How cruel it was that it was only when she was at last within reach of all she had ever dreamed that it must now be taken away from her, and so forcefully too. Within days of returning from their honeymoon William had been thrown headfirst into war business, mainly due to the fact he had enlisted in the Royal Flying Corps and was one of a surprising few who could already fly proficiently.
Christina knew she couldn't feel too bitter, for it was William's enthusiasm that had made him hurry through the training procedures. Having already acquired well over the needed 20 flying hours to go solo, the only element of his training that William could not hurry was the classroom taught theory. But, both to Christina's pride and utter horror, after a week William was sent back to Kingston because the instructor had discovered that William's knowledge surpassed his own.
"He said that there was not a lot of point in me being there, as I knew more than he did." William had explained to her laughingly, after taking her by surprise upon appearing before her reception desk several weeks earlier than expected. "It's dreadful really, Christina, if you think about it. Fatalities just from training are regular- how they think they'll be able to fly in France if they can't even land without 2 miles to get her down, I don't know. I should have joined up earlier; the existing squadrons are already active in France."
Christina had looked hard at her husband after hearing that remark, searching for any trace of sarcasm, though she knew she wouldn't find it. Such an eagerness to rush to battle, to chance with death, both appalled and terrified her. Flying at Elm Park had seemed dangerous enough- but flying over battlefields?! Had he somehow forgotten that there would be guns pointed at him, other aeroplanes charged with the task of battling in the skies?
"Well, I'm sorry that our wedding caused such a problem for you." she had eventually managed to retort lightly, making him grin at her. "You really should have mentioned something; you should have told me that it clashed with the start of a world war. A wedding is hardly important anyway, not compared to-"
But then he had kissed her, right in front of all the staff and clients in the hotel reception, not caring that when Dorothy walked past she made a suggestive remark and made the nearest porter snigger with laughter. And that was another reason why Christina could not truly be bitter that her husband was flying off to France to chance with death and leave her lonely for months at a time- he was so happy to be flying with real purpose, and she would not shatter that for the world.
Before the war, Christina had dreamt that after they married, she and William would find a pretty little house somewhere and live quite happily together, with William still flying and designing aeroplanes and she still working at the hotel for Mr Saunders. But on their honeymoon, when William's intentions to join the RFC were unavoidably clear, they had decided that it would be best if Christina continued to stay in the hotel.
"I don't want you to be lonely. Dorothy is at the hotel- perhaps it would be best if you stayed there too, just until we know where we stand with the war and everything else that is likely to change." William had sounded wretched to suggest it, but Christina didn't mind as much as she thought she would, so she had soon managed to convince him that even though not ideal, it was for the best.
William was still renting the rooms he had shared with Sandy, and had been intending to do so until he left for France, so when he was sent home early from the RFC school to await further instruction Christina had decided she would stay with him in those small but cosy rooms. They spent two blissful weeks together doing absolutely nothing, going out and about on a whim, spending hours curled up together in the big armchair just talking and laughing. It had been perfect, and a slightly depressing indication as to what could have been their life had the leaders of Europe not decided to fall out and start a war.
And then, three days ago, William had received a letter saying that he had been posted and he would be flying out to France from an RFC mechanics airfield at 8am- tomorrow.
Oh you fool, Christina told herself harshly as she frantically wiped at yet more tears which had slipped down her face without her even noticing as she stared out of the window and up at the sky, you shouldn't be crying- you should be enjoying this last day, this last moment of normality before everything really does change.
"Christina?" William's voice made her turn around quickly, forgetting to ensure that the last of the tears were gone from her face. She saw in his eyes immediately that she must look wretched, because suddenly his expression became soft and sad. "Oh, don't cry, not yet. You've still got me for today."
"I know." She replied thickly, taking his hand and walking beside him as they left the flat and began to make their way down the usual route, passing the little row of shops and crossing the cobbled road to reach the grassy banks of the river. In summer, the river had been dotted with boats and the banks filled with families on picnics, the sound of children playing and adults laughing fondly filling the air. Now, in the colder autumn wind, there were fewer people but the river was still flowing and the trees were still keeping guard, their golden leaves falling onto the water's surface, replacing the boats of summer. "But it's...it's not enough. You'll be gone for months- what am I supposed to do without you?"
She didn't add her fears for his safety, because the last time she had openly fretted about the risks he had become exasperated and moody. He doesn't understand how worried he makes me, she thought sadly as William looked out over the leaf strewn river and sighed, he doesn't comprehend that a life without him is of very little value to me at all.
"There will be plenty to do, I'm sure. Time will fly, Christina. And I'll write to you- I'll write to you whenever I am able." He stopped by the water's edge and looked down at the murky current, smiling suddenly. "Do you remember, a while ago, when we took Sandy's car out along that dusty track and we found those fishes that turned over onto their backs?"
"Yes. You told me I was silly because I didn't believe aeroplanes could do the same." Christina found a wry smile for him, gently slipping her arm through his. "You invited me to fly the channel with you in the Bleriot. Then you gave me a driving lesson and I was so terrible that you couldn't stop laughing at me."
"Ah, yes." William smothered another chuckle now at the memory, so Christina swatted him gently on the arm. "See, Christina. We've had some very good times, and there are good times to come. This war, although a nuisance now, will make the world finally accept the importance of flying machines. And once they've seen what they can do, flying will become big business. There'll be demand for designers, for machines with sophisticated design and purpose, not just for a few rich gentlemen joyriding round the countryside. This will be good for us, Christina, you must understand that?"
"Oh, yes I do." She nodded slightly, her voice not betraying her for once. Though inside she was trembling and terrified, wanting to shake William and ask him what would happen if he did not make it through the war, her exterior remained unchanged. It would be just the same as the early days at Elm Park- hiding the truth and getting on with it. "It will be the loneliness, I think, that will upset me most of all. Dorothy will love having me free of any other commitment, but I fear there is only so much shopping and flirting I can take."
William burst out laughing and Christina had to join in. From then on in the day, Christina tried to push her worries and her anxious fretting far out of her mind. Clutching onto William's hand, they walked alongside the river, faces turning pink with the sting of the autumn wind, laughing at each other when leaves and other debris caught in their hair or around their clothing. When a leaf hit William right in the face, Christina burst out laughing and then had to run as fast as she could along the soggy grass as he chased her, shrieking happily.
"Come back, idiot child!" William called after her, trying to sound threatening but failing as he burst out laughing, watching her give a reckless grin before toppling over and landing on the muddy grass. "Aha, I've got you now!"
But then he slipped too, and they ended up sprawled in the mud and soggy grass, clothes coated and faces smeared with the stuff. Christina wasn't sure why, exactly, but the feeling of being wet and grassy and looking like a complete idiot was, in that moment, truly glorious. Oh you fool, her mind seemed to scold, but she simply could not stop herself from laughing. When William sat up with a slightly bewildered look on his face, pulling clods of grass out of his hair, she began to laugh even harder.
"I don't know why you're laughing, Mrs Russell; you're filthy!" he said in a haughty tone, as if he were offended. His dark eyes were sparkling, like black diamonds, a stark contrast against the bone white skin of his face. Christina reached out to touch his cheek, struck by the fact that after 8am tomorrow morning she would not see those beautiful eyes for...well. Who knew how long he would be kept in France? "Your blouse is ruined with mud and grass stains- what sort of receptionist goes rolling around in wet grass with madman in broad daylight?"
"On the contrary, Mr Russell, what sort of soldier would take advantage of a vulnerable young woman in such an appalling manner?" Christina giggled, prodding him on the shoulder.
"Ah, Mrs Russell, I'm not a total barbarian. I always take the young women I roll around in the grass with out to dinner afterwards." He grinned, getting up from where he had slipped and fallen and grimacing as he saw just how badly his trousers were covered in mud stains and wet grass. "I'm already imagining the horrified stares we're going to receive going back through Kingston. They'll think we're utterly mad." He paused and suddenly a look of horror dawned on his face, his eyes going wide in horror as he hastily helped Christina scramble up from the ground. "Oh, no! There's Aunt Grace- and Dorothy!"
"What! Where?!" Christina could already feel a hot blush springing to her face as she whirled around and tried to pick all the twigs and foliage out of her hair. She frantically scanned the path which was just visible from where they stood, looking for her likely to be horrified Aunt and the no doubt delighted Dorothy. "I can't see them- have they already gone?"
But when she turned round again, to demand an answer, she found that William was in a fit of hysterics. It took a moment for Christina to realise that- to her complete amazement and confusion- William had been teasing. Christina had never seen William in such a childish mood- first the falling over, then the joking and now this?! With a cold twist in her stomach, she realised that this odd behaviour of his was coming from excitement- excitement to be off tomorrow, to be flying and fighting for King and Country. It took every ounce of strength in Christina not to let the tears spring to her eyes, stupid tears she knew she ought to have overcome, but tears all the same.
"William Russell, you bad man! You scared me half to death!" she exploded, outrage dripping from every syllable. "How on Earth are you going to redeem yourself? I honestly thought I was going to have to explain to Aunt Grace why i was out and about, covered in grass and mud!"
"I'm sorry." He smiled, softly, and took her hand again. "I'll make it up to you, later..."
The rest of the day was spent happily, and when 'later' arrived, William did redeem himself. But the unavoidable fact that this was the last day before months of separation, the last day before William was chancing with death daily, still loomed over Christina and although she could hold it in and hide it whilst conscious, her subconscious was vulnerable, weak and had no way of fighting her fear.
It was past midnight, completely dark and almost silent save the occasional owl giving an echoing, melancholy cry into the night, or the wind whistling its way through the few leaves that were left on the trees, when her subconscious lost that fight. Christina awoke with a start, a frightening jolt as realisation and horror shattered what had been the sweet subconscious state of sleep. Her face was shiny with sweat, her body too, so that her nightgown clung to her in such an uncomfortable manner she began to feverishly pluck at the material, trying to get some air to her burning skin.
Slowly, she sat up in the darkness and pulled the bed sheets up to her chin, already beginning to rock herself a little as a few hot tears escaped and dribbled down her flushed face. In the darkness there was nothing to distract her, nothing to confirm that the horrid images she had seen were simply dreams- and they were such horrible, horrible dreams-!
Christina was in a field. It was hot, very hot, and there were wildflowers everywhere. The sky was blue and the sun was bright, making everything seem as if it were grabbing her attention, her focus, leaving her feeling dizzy. She took a step into the swaying golden grasses and then she could see it and hear it- the plume of thick black smoke that was billowing into the blue sky, that deadly burning smell, of oil and flames and fire and danger. Why had she not seen it before? What if it was too late?
She began to run through the grass, not knowing why but understanding somehow that is was urgent, that she must run to this wreckage and find him- suddenly, the crumpled mass of wood, wires and fuselage fabric was before her, and she fell to her knees as all the breath left her body in one desperate, strangled sob.
It was William, mangled there in the wreckage, in a uniform and pilots helmet, clutching at his stomach where the material was dark and sodden with his blood. She reached out for him, pulled him onto her lap, where his head lolled and his eyes were barely open- as her tears splashed onto his face, he managed a smile for her.
She seemed to notice then where exactly she was- this wasn't some field in France, this was a field she knew so well, a field she had ridden and walked and watched from a window; this was Flambards! She didn't know why, but the realisation that it was Flambards where William had been shot down and was dying, crumpled like a discarded puppet, made it all so much worse.
"I love you!" she sobbed over him, clutching at his face, trying to make him look at her. But his eyes were fixed upon the open blue sky, his smile for that open space above. "William look at me!"
But then she realised he was already dead, his once sparkling black eyes drinking up the open allure of that endless blue sky that held them all prisoner beneath it, never ending...
Christina suddenly began to sob, quite uncontrollably, as the horror she had felt in her nightmare dawned upon her now and made her chest ache. She knew it was hysteria, making her behave so foolishly, but the violence of the tremors that shook her body and the relentless fury of her tears was terrifying. She buried her face in her hands and the bed sheets, trying to blot out those images, those horrific nightmares that had seemed so very real-
"Christina?"
Christina immediately cursed her idiocy, pressing her trembling fingers up against her mouth- William was bound to be angry with her, like last time, for all the unnecessary fuss and worrying. His voice was groggy and exhausted, as if he had been dragged from a deep sleep, so Christina was surprised when she heard the sheets rustling and felt his hands find her in the dark. Once he had found her, he sat up and pulled her gently towards him, so that she crumpled against his chest, her feeble tears now soaking into his shirt rather than dripping down her face. She was a mess- she had never lost her composure so badly in front of William before, and she felt so ashamed that when William began to stroke her hair she felt uncomfortable and almost wished he would stop.
"Sweetheart?" he asked again, his voice softer this time, still hazy with sleep but not as irritable or exhausted. "Whatever's the matter?"
"I'm sorry- I didn't mean to wake you." She murmured, her face flaming, and she felt him stiffen.
"Don't be so stupid. You don't need to apologise, you haven't done anything wrong." he sounded angered by that more than being woken up. "Now- what's wrong?"
"It...it was a dream." Christina managed to say calmly, before starting to cry again. "Oh, William, a horrible, horrible dream- it was so real that I...I honestly believed it!"
"Do you want to tell me about it? Would that make you feel any better?"
Christina hesitated, swallowing hot salty tears and wincing at the strange sensation. He must be able to guess, she thought wildly, he must know that there is only one thing I could possibly be so upset about. She knew that, in the dark, William was not going to push her away irritably or laugh at her for her silly fears. But she was still ashamed, ashamed that after so many years of hiding her fears and making him believe she was strong and capable, she was ruining it all by crying like an idiot after a silly nightmare.
"No- no, it's nothing, I'm-I'm being pathetic. Stupid." She took a deep calming breath and used the corner of the bed sheets to dry her eyes.
Though she couldn't see his face, she knew immediately from feeling his posture change that what she had said angered William. He moved slightly in the dark, reaching for something. Suddenly light pierced the darkness- he had switched on the gas lamp- and Christina was momentarily stunned by the sudden light before realising that William could now see what a complete and utter state she had worked herself into.
"You're not being stupid, so don't say that you are." He said firmly, tucking some damp strands of hair behind her ear and wiping away stray tears. "It's going to be difficult- things will change a lot over the next few months; heaven knows I'm not settled either. But you'll adapt, Christina, you always do. When we first ran away from the Hunt Ball, to London, I was terrified that I'd done the wrong thing, dragging you into a way of life I knew you were never truly comfortable with. But even though it was hard, and at times I was angry and preoccupied, by some miracle you still married me. You're strong, Christina- it's one of the things I love most about you. We're going to be just fine- I promise you."
"What is it that Sandy said to me? The human being can adjust to anything, given time?" Christina sniffed a little mournfully, and William smiled and gave a soft laugh at the memory.
"He was a funny man, was Sandy, but an intelligent one too." William agreed, and Christina nodded. "And he was entirely right in what he said. It's natural that you're anxious, sweetheart, but after you've experienced it once you'll see that it's not so bad."
"I'm still waiting for that realisation to come, having married you." she retorted quickly, already smiling and he laughed at her.
"Now. Do you feel as if you could go back to sleep?" he asked after a moment or so, and Christina nodded. William kissed her, lingering and soft, before turning out the light and wrapping his arms around her, somehow knowing that she would feel better for this constant comfort. "I love you, Christina, you do know that?"
"Yes." She said softly in the darkness, and found undisturbed and peaceful sleep in his arms.
It was those words, so unsure and tentative, that occupied Christina's mind as she stood in the cold morning air at the mechanics airfield, her eyes wandering as she took in the several aeroplanes lined up and ready to be flown. William had been standing beside her, waiting for instructions, but upon seeing a young mechanic bashing at something on the undercarriage with little success he had gone over to help, and was now thoroughly involved in the process. Seeing him on the ground next to the aeroplane like that, gorgeous in uniform and- in some ways- looking younger than his twenty years, Christina saw the eager and bright eyed boy who had stubbornly walked on his healing leg and hobbled his way to Mr Dermot's every day. It seemed too commonplace an image, William getting oily and involved with an aeroplane, to be occurring at such a time. She felt a silly and irrational sense of hope- she must have imagined the war, that her William was leaving her for so long, she had dreamed it all and soon she would be back in Kingston, with him by her side-
But suddenly, he was kissing her and saying goodbye, and climbing into a contraption that looked far too flimsy to be safe. There was the sound of mechanics and pilots, calling out to each other; "switch on!", "contact!", "there she goes, steady with the tail...". And then they were away into the grey autumn sky, some wobbling slightly as they first got into the air, but all determined and with no intention of turning back.
Christina watched them disappear into the horizon; it was a shattering sight, something she had known would occur for so long, but had not ever truly accepted as reality.
"The first goodbye is the hardest." She told herself firmly.
And then they were gone.
The sigh that escaped from her lips was caught by the autumn wind, the same wind that carried William and the other RFC boys to France. With one last look up to the grey sky above her, Christina turned away and walked back to where she had propped her bicycle, having had the foresight to bring it with her with William on the bus.
As she pedalled back to Kingston she felt an odd sense of hysteria within her at the fact she was utterly alone and that her husband, a man she had married not even two months ago in August when the world had been sunny and she had felt as if nothing could go wrong, was going to be gone for months- maybe even years. Not knowing whether to laugh at herself or to cry, she succumbed to both, before bending her head in the wind and continuing to pedal forwards in the cold morning air.
P.S. Sorry, me again, it seems that the horrifically long author note wasn't enough :-). If you were wondering why Christina and William might have seemed at bit out of character at times in the prologue, it is because I have no idea how both of them would react to such a huge change in their lives. I thought that Christina would initially be very emotional and unable to cope, but eventually would become tough and resilient, just as she did at Elm Park in The Edge of the Cloud. William is altogether more tricky, because he hides his emotions quite a lot in the actual series, but I like to think that William does have all those emotional moments, he just doesn't share them with anyone. Christina should be less emotional and coping better next chapter.
Also, I have decided not to try and copy KM Peyton's style of writing in this fic. I did try it at first, but it was a real struggle and eventually I decided that as it is my own alternative 3rd book, I should probably be alright with writing it in my own style. But, of course if you disagree, please tell me!
Sorry for all my rambling :-)