Chapter 11 – Charles Returns (1919)
He came home.
For eighteen months, with only one brief week of leave, Charles lived and fought amongst the carnage of the Great War in Europe, and in the end emerged unscathed.
Despite the guilt I felt at admitting it to myself, those eighteen months were the best months of my life. I loved my independence. I kept house for myself and took pride in my pretty home, cleaning and decorating only because it pleased me to do so. I altered my clothes into the new shorter and narrower styles because I liked them, and didn't worry about what anyone else might say about it.
I found a kitten, a tiny grey ball of fluff, drenched and shivering in the street during a summer rainstorm and took him home because Charles wasn't there to object. I fed him milk with an eyedropper until he was big enough to lap from a saucer and he became my constant companion at home, purring on my lap as I knitted and drew.
I was busy outside the house too. The women's group increased our efforts to fundraise, and began making and collecting more and more donations of clothing for the widows and orphans in Europe. As the death toll for the American troops grew we also did what we could for any war widows we could in our local city too. It was sometimes sad work, but the determination and good cheer of so many of the ladies involved made it fun too and I enjoyed myself.
I did my duty by Charles too, and wrote to him regularly. In all honesty I found little to say. I rarely thought of him in his absence and certainly didn't miss him, but I felt sorry for any man at the front and writing a letter was the very least I could do. I wrote to him about what our ladies' group was doing, and any news of our friends, and told him about how much of his money I was saving. When I couldn't think of any words I drew for him, pictures of our home and things throughout the city, thinking that maybe he'd like a little reminder of home. As the months went by it felt like writing to a stranger…sometimes I could barely remember what Charles looked like and my violent, unhappy marriage seemed like a distant dream.
When the war in Europe ended it was as though the whole city erupted in celebration. There were parades and parties and festivals, and I went to several victory parties with a smile plastered across my face but a dark shadow lying across my heart at the knowledge that Charles would be coming back to me.
Maybe things can be different, I thought desperately. Maybe the war will have changed him and maybe he won't be so quick to lash out in anger. Maybe I can be wiser and more sensible, and manage him better. Oh, I hope it can be better!
I had a long time to wait and worry and hope. The war ended in November 1918, but it took months for the troops to be demobilised and Charles' company remained in Europe until March 1919.
There was no warning of his return. I came home early one evening after spending the afternoon in the library, fed up with the cold, slushy remnants of winter in the street and looking forward to spending the evening curled up by the fireside.
"I think I'll read," I said aloud, talking vaguely to the cat whether he was there or not, as I'd taken to doing. I kicked off my shoes in the front hallway and hung up my coat and began unwinding my scarf. "I can eat cookies for dinner…what do you think, Puss? I bought you a fish…where are you? Puss! Here kitty!" I tossed my scarf on the hall table and then, as I bent down to pick up my basket, saw the large, wet boot prints leading down the hallway to the kitchen.
I froze. Someone was in the house, and judging by the size of the boot prints it was a man. Silently I stepped backwards, keeping my eyes trained on the kitchen as I groped behind me for the door handle.
Before I could wrench it open and run there was a noise in the kitchen, heavy footfalls coming towards me, and I froze as a figure appeared in the doorway at the end of the hall.
It was Charles.
I wondered later how I'd even recognised him, so changed was he from the man who had left eighteen months before. Still wearing his army uniform he was thin to the point of gauntness, his hair cut almost to the scalp and the remaining bristles grey, his neat brown moustache gone and a reddened, crinkled burn scar running up his jawbone.
"Do I take it that cat belongs to you, then?"
"Charles," I whispered, "Oh, Charles…" Dizzy and shocked I sagged back against the door, staring at him as if at a ghost. "You're home…oh, why didn't you tell me? I would have met you at the train station!"
I would have been prepared for this!
"I wasn't sure when I would be released. I caught an early train…you're pleased to see me then?"
"Oh, of course...I…I'm just so surprised! But…pleased, of course I am!" I stammered, before gathering myself together and moving towards Charles.
I wanted to hug him, I wanted to have a wonderful, joyful reunion with my husband, the kind of reunion that would start this new post-war life for us out with love…but it was like looking at a stranger.
I think he felt it too. Charles looked at me with sunken eyes dark with shadows, and when he reached out to touch my face his hand was shaking. "You're looking well, Esme," he said quietly.
"You look…so tired," I faltered. "If I'd known you were coming I would have made everything so nice for you! I would have cooked…oh, it doesn't matter! Come and sit down, and I'll put the kettle on for some tea."
Boiling the water and making the tea settled my nerves, and by the time I was placing Charles' cup in front of him I was able to smile at him much more naturally. I didn't even say a word as he emptied a slug of liquor from a flask into his cup.
"Cookie?" I offered him the tin, glad now that I'd indulged myself and made a double batch of the rich chocolate chip cookies and not taken them all to the women's group like I had planned.
"Thank you." Charles took a cookie and tried to smile at me. "I missed your cooking."
The two of us sat in silence for a few moments. I drank my tea and ate three cookies out of sheer nervousness while Charles took one bite and then crumbled the rest of the cookie in between his fingers. This was worse than our wedding night.
"Would you like some fish for supper?" I asked finally, desperate to break the silence. I'd bought the haddock intending to feed it to the cat over the following few days, but Charles would be appalled at what he would no doubt see as waste. "I can do some haddock, and there are potatoes and carrots too."
"Whatever you like," Charles said indifferently. Finished with his tea now, he drank straight from his flask and the scent of the alcohol in the air burned my nostrils.
I hurried to cook some dinner, frying the fish and boiling and mashing the potatoes. The cat came and twined himself around my legs, miaowing indignantly when I didn't give him scraps while I was cooking like I usually did. Eventually I gave him a saucer of milk, which he lapped at grudgingly, before turning his back on me and washing his paws by the stove.
I was surprised Charles didn't mention the cat, but he actually spoke very little while we ate. I chattered on uneasily, telling him about everything that I'd been doing, but his responses were monosyllabic and eventually I fell silent. I ate the last part of my meal and cleaned the kitchen in silence.
"Let's go to bed," Charles said abruptly, rising from the empty table.
"I'll just…finish tidying up," I whispered, relieved when Charles only nodded at me and disappeared into the bedroom.
I crouched down by the fire, stroking the cat and trying to calm myself. I realised with a touch of despair that I didn't want to go into the bedroom and give my body to Charles. After spending a year and a half living only for myself, I had grown used to making my own decisions and being in control and I was almost surprised at how resistant I was to the idea of having to give that up. I did not want to be naked and vulnerable with a man who felt like a stranger, simply because he was my husband and he believed it was owed to him.
I bit my lip. It was all well and good to think these things, but the reality of the situation was quite different. Charles was waiting, and he had never looked kindly on defiance before. Even as I petted my cat and warmed myself by the flames I heard his impatient shout.
"Esme!"
"Coming!" I stopped hesitantly in the bedroom door, looking at where Charles sat on the edge of the bed wearing only his shorts. "Oh, you're so thin!" I exclaimed without thinking.
Charles looked at me coldly, "It was a war Esme, not a health retreat. I may be thin, but at least I am alive. We have no room to complain."
"Of course," I said humbly. "I'm sorry. And I can get right on to the cooking tomorrow and make all your favourite things so that you can rest and eat and built up your strength." Uneasily I turned my back on him and began undressing. Charles said nothing until I reached for my nightgown.
"Leave it off," he ordered roughly. "Come here."
I shivered at the coldness in his voice but did as I was told, and for the first time in a year I went to bed and lay with my husband.
I woke early the next morning and found myself alone in the bed. Charles' side was stone cold and as I slid out of bed and dressed hastily, I wondered what he was doing. He had never been a particularly early riser before.
He was in the kitchen, seated at the kitchen table and sipping slowly at a cup of tea. The room smelled overwhelmingly of tobacco and in front of Charles was a saucer filled with the crushed ends of cigarettes. Charles had always smoked a pipe in the evenings and disliked cigarettes, and had never smoked in the house at all, but I didn't mention it as I pushed open the window a little and filled the kettle and put it on to boil.
"Eggs for breakfast?" I asked lightly. "I'll scramble some up with some toast. How did you sleep?"
"I didn't really," Charles muttered, rising to his feet. "The bed was too soft…I'm not used to it any longer."
I couldn't help noticing how the civilian clothes he was wearing sagged around his frame, and I threw the egg I'd been saving for myself into his scramble. Some eggs and toast and butter, and I'd go out immediately after breakfast and buy everything I needed for a roast dinner…
"It will just take some time," I said softly. "You've been gone a long time."
"Yes. I see you've made some changes."
Charles' voice was flat and it was not clear whether I had his approval or not. "Just a few little things," I said cautiously. "I liked to have things to do to occupy my time."
I served Charles the scrambled eggs on toast and sat across from him, eating some toast with jam and watching him eat. "What do you think you will do now?" I asked hesitantly once he was finished. Having lost his job before he enlisted, Charles didn't even have a former employer to go back to and ask for work.
He shrugged. "I thought I'd go out today and look into the employment situation. There are some associates I can look up, and if they're still here they may have something for me or be able to help me find something. I'll look in the newspaper employment section too."
"I can ask Leila if Robert can suggest anything," I said eagerly. "He still works for the paper and he knows everyone in town…"
"I don't want you discussing our private business with your friends," Charles said sharply. "If I want Robert Gregory's help I'll ask him myself. You should be old enough to know better about gossiping with your friends about what doesn't concern them!"
But you were the one who was talking about asking acquaintances for help! I thought rebelliously. I was only trying to help, and Robert does know everything that goes on in town and I'm sure he'd be happy to help!
"I'll have a light lunch in town and I'll be home for dinner this evening," Charles informed me as he rose from the table. "Please have it ready promptly."
With a sigh I collected my basket and trotted along to the shops to buy what I needed. I took a detour by the Gregory's house on the way home to tell Leila what was happening and explain that I didn't think I'd be able to come by the sewing bee in the afternoon.
"Charles came home," I told her flatly, unable to find any less shocking way to break the news. "He was there when I came home yesterday afternoon."
Leila clapped her hands together. "Oh Esme, you must be so happy that he's safe home at last! Of course you want to spend time with him! The committee will manage just fine without you for a little while."
I nodded and pretended to look thrilled. "It's wonderful, of course. But it's also…it's a little difficult, Leila." I bit my lip. "He and I…" My voice trailed off.
Leila's face turned sympathetic and she gently patted my hand. "It's been a very long time. The two of you need time to get to know each other all over again, and then it will all be like it was and you can forget this horrible separation."
But I don't want it to be like it was before! That's what I'm afraid of!
"He's out looking for work," I said aloud, adding hastily as I remembered his orders, "But don't say anything…he doesn't want me talking about our private business."
"I understand." Leila pursed her lips up thoughtfully. "I'll speak to Robert. If he knows of anything he can find a way to tell Charles without you and I seeming to be involved at all."
"Thank you," I said gratefully. The familiar knot of tension, absent for so long while Charles was gone, had lodged itself firmly in my stomach. I knew that an unemployed Charles would be next to impossible to deal with, and my back flinched at the thought of what that would mean for me.
I almost ran home after speaking with Leila and set to work making the roast. I was a much more confident cook after a few years of marriage and soon the room was full of good smells. I was surprised that the cat didn't come stalking in, demanding snacks as he usually did, but I put some offcuts of the meat aside for him to eat later.
Charles came home as the meat was resting, and he sat at the table and tersely answered my bright enquiries about his day. Apparently the employment situation, at first glance, was not as promising as he had hoped and my stomach sank at that news. I hoped fervently that he was just being pessimistic and something would open up for him soon.
He smoked moodily at the table as I cleaned up the kitchen and did the dishes. I hated the tobacco smoke drifting around the kitchen, but I held my tongue. It's a time of adjustment, I reminded myself. Just take it easy Esme, let him get used to being back…
"Puss!" I called at the back door, tapping the metal dish I fed him out of against the doorframe. "Here, kitty kitty kitty…where are you Puss? Puss!"
"Don't bother calling the cat," Charles said quietly at my shoulder, making me jump. "He won't come."
I whirled around. "What do you mean? He's a good cat, he always comes home…"
"We don't need a cat," Charles said flatly, and my heart pounded at the chilling look in his eyes. "He won't be in my house anymore."
Tears blurring my eyes I dropped the dish and pushed past Charles, fleeing into my little sitting room upstairs where I huddled in my armchair and sobbed. Oh Puss, oh my sweet grey cat, I'm sorry…
I didn't know what Charles had done with the cat. It was a question I would never, ever ask him.
A/N – And please don't ask ME what he did to the cat either, because it was one thing I just didn't want to think too hard about it! So really, take your pick depending on how much humanity you think Charles has left after the war- did he kill the cat, rehome it, or just take it far away and dump it?
I have to deviate from the timeline given in the Guide (which is what I've been using) for this part of Esme's story, simply because it's impossible. Charles returns from the war in 1919, Esme is supposed to get pregnant and then leave him and pretend to be a war widow, giving birth and then throwing herself off a cliff to become a vampire in 1921. Considering Charles' return date (and I kept him in Europe as long as I could! The war ended in 1918 so he would have been one of the last US soldiers to be demobbed as it is!) and the forty weeks it takes to grow a baby, that story just doesn't work. So I've tweaked it a bit here.
Anyway, thank you to everyone reading and commenting! I am totally loving Esme during this story, and I want everyone else to love her too! She's definitely one of the most underrated Cullens I think, and I'm really enjoying looking at her in more depth here.
