Many thanks for the kind reviews so far! Here's Part 2...
September 1953. Boston, Mass.Charles did his unpacking himself, partly from the habit of having to fend for himself in Korea, but mostly because he wanted to postpone the evil moment for as long as possible. Eventually though, showered and changed, he could put it off no longer. "'Tell us what you did today, Charles'," he muttered, checking his tie in front of the mirror, "'Tell us what you did'."
His parents were in the drawing-room, talking with Honoria about arrangements for the forthcoming dinner party at the Emersons. Charles responded politely to their queries about the conference while he crossed the room to the drinks cabinet and poured himself a scotch. He took a couple of large swallows and several deep breaths before turning to face them.
"Actually," he said, with a forced casualness that belied his thumping heart, "I... uh... I met someone in Denver."
"Oh?" Honoria visibly perked up, and he realised he was grateful that she was here. After her own doomed romance, there was a chance she might be a little more accepting than mother and dad. Ah well, only one way to find out…
"Yes. Well – that is – met them again – met her again."
"Charles," said Honoria, "You're b... babbling."
"So would you!" he snapped, instantly regretting it. "Sorry, Honoria, it's just..." He put his glass down on the table and metaphorically rushed the gate: "Look – I met Eleanor last year in Korea. She was with a troupe of USO entertainers – you know, doing their bit for morale? Eleanor's a very accomplished singer and pianist and..."
"She had a piano?" This from his father.
"Not in Korea, father, no – it would have been a little impractical. She had –" he gulped "- an accordion."
Honoria was grinning, but his mother was turning puce. Not good, not good at all, but he was too far down the road to stop now.
"I ran into some of my ex-MASH colleagues in Denver, and we went for lunch at their hotel. And Eleanor was in the lounge playing the piano."
"I assume there's a reason you're telling us all this, Charles?" His mother's voice had that dangerous, icy edge to it that signalled Trouble, but it was a little late to worry about that.
Charles picked up his glass and swallowed the rest of his scotch. "Certainly is, mother. I... I have asked her to marry me, and she has accepted."
His mother got to her feet and moved across to replace her own empty sherry glass on the cocktail cabinet. "Really, Charles, don't be ridiculous! Honoria's choice was bad enough, but at least Luigi had money in his favour. This girl is obviously a common little gold-digger, and you should have more sense!"
Charles closed his eyes for a moment, rubbing his forehead. Now for it! "No, mother, if she was a gold-digger she would have kept in touch with me last year, after she got back from Korea. You see, she... uh... she had a child." As he spoke, he pulled a photograph Ellie had given him from his jacket pocket, and held it out for her to see.
Honoria was staring at him open-mouthed; his father's stony expression was completely unreadable. He didn't see the slap from his mother coming till her palm connected with his cheek.
"You fool, Charles!" she blazed, "How could you be so stupid? A showgirl for God's sake! Well, don't even think about marrying her. You must pay for the child, of course – she's obviously yours – but a wedding? Out of the question. Don't mention this ever again." She looked at his father. "You tell him, Charles."
Charles Emerson Winchester II drained his bourbon and got to his feet. "Charles," he said, shaking his head, "How could you let this happen? I am so disappointed with you." He took a breath as though to say more, but Charles had heard enough. More than enough.
"You're disappointed?" he said, slowly and softly, "Dad, when have you ever been anything else? I've spent my whole life trying to please you, trying you live up to your standards, your expectations, your... my name. I know you only ever wanted the best for me, but you wanted the best from me too, and without ever once giving me credit or praise for anything I did. I asked you – I begged you – to get me out of Korea, but no, you left me there because you thought it would be 'character-building'. Dad, I spent every hour of every day for nearly two years being scared for my life. I've operated in the dark in a room that was being shaken apart by artillery fire; I've been shot at, humiliated, threatened and assaulted. I've had to tend patients in a cave because it was the only safe place to be. I've seen boys of eighteen turned inside out by artillery shells and had to try to put them back together by candlelight." He realised he was shouting, and took a moment to draw breath and unclench his fists before adding, quietly: "And you're disappointed with me because in the middle of all the blood and the fear and the dying I needed someone? Well, I'm sorry about that." He threw the photograph onto the table. "But I cannot be sorry about her." He made for the door, paused for a moment before he opened it. "In case either of you is interested, her name is Elizabeth."
Returning to his room, he pulled out the case he had emptied only a short while before and started packing it again. Honoria joined him a few minutes later, still looking stunned. "Oh, Charles..." She threw her arms around him and he hugged her tight. "Where are you going, your t...t...town house?"
"The apartment, I think, tonight at least." He let her go, continued with his packing. "I know I shouldn't have said all that. Once I got started, I just couldn't seem to stop."
She gave him a knowing smile. "I suppose that's w...what happened with Eleanor too, is it?"
"Honoria!"
She passed him a pile of shirts. "Are you absolutely sure about m...marrying this girl, Charles? I mean – m...mother's right, you know, you could just offer to p...pay for the child."
"Honoria, why do you think Ellie didn't contact me about the baby? She doesn't want my money! It was only by chance that I ran across her in Denver – and even then all she asked was that I give her enough to get Beth a decent schooling."
"S...so?"
"So, I refuse to be just a footnote in my child's life! You've only got to look at her to see she's a Winchester, don't you think she deserves to have my name?. I pointed out a few home truths to Ellie, about the likelihood of Beth getting taunted at school, her chances of getting into a half-decent establishment in the first place if she has only a single parent – and the more I talked, the more I realised there was only one possible solution. And the more I thought about that, the less I minded." He continued to talk as he went through to his bathroom to collect his toothbrush and toiletries, reappeared a moment later. "You think I haven't noticed how you and mother keep manoeuvring all those single Society girls my way? Honoria, they are..." He dropped his after-shave bottle on the bed, gestured helplessly as he sought the right phrase, "They're so inane. Half of them don't even know there's been a war in Korea, and the ones who do have no idea where Korea is, and don't care! When they talk to me, it's about the sort of worthless stuff I used to think was important – whether the seating order at dinner is correct, whether I think Jefferson Rowe's horse has a chance of winning at Saratoga... The truth is, I don't care about anything any of them have to say. At least Ellie has some idea what I went through out there. She's also funny, and smart, and talented – and the mother of my child. I like her, Honoria. I have to at least try to do the right thing by her."
"Alright, big brother." Honoria touched his arm to signal a truce. "But Charles, if she plays the p...piano... you're not going to yell at her like you did with mother, are you?"
Charles sat down on the bed, clasped his hands in front of him. "I don't know," he said, "She was playing jazz in the restaurant, I could take that. Maybe I'll pitch myself in at the deep end and take her to a concert or something."
"Kill or cure?"
"Please – don't say 'kill'."
"Still not going to t...tell me about it?"
He shook his head. "No."
"Alright, treat me like a child if you must, b...but you know you have to t...tell Ellie, don't you? If you are going to m...marry her, you're going to have to b...be upfront with her."
Charles could almost hear Pierce's voice saying "Being 'up front' with her is what got him into this," and he couldn't help but smile.
"What? W...What did I say?"
"Nothing." He got to his feet, checked he'd got everything he needed.
She gave an exasperated sigh, but didn't pursue it. Instead she surprised him by saying: "Eleanor and my niece - can I meet them?"
"Yes, of course, if you want to. They're at the Hilton."
"Hmm, neutral t...territory. Okay, I'll call you tomorrow and fix up a t...time."
He bent to kiss her goodbye, snapped the cases shut and carried them out to his car. As he slammed the trunk shut, he looked back at the house – and found himself remembering something Hawkeye had said during those long conversations they had had about fathers and sons, while waiting for news of Dr Pierce senior. "Damn it," he muttered. He looked at his watch. 7.20pm. Turning around, he walked back into the house, opened the dining-room door and found his parents exactly where he knew they would be: seated at the table staring at their soup course. "There's one other thing I need to tell you before I go," he said, not moving from the doorway, and wondering why 'I love you' was so difficult to say.
"I think you've said quite enough already, Charles," said his mother.
"I just wanted to say..." He recalled Hawkeye's words at the service for Millie Carpenter, took a deep breath and moistened his lips, "That... that the rules aren't the same in a war zone."
He turned around and slowly walked away.
"Elizabeth," said Charles, lifting the baby tenderly from Ellie's arms and lowering her onto Honoria's lap, "Meet your aunt Honoria."
"Oh, Charles, she's adorable! Eleanor, there's a little p... present for her in that bag, if you could just... Thanks." Ellie passed the bag across the coffee table and Honoria pulled a pink rabbit out of it, which Beth promptly made a grab for.
"It's nearly as big as she is," said Ellie, "Thanks, Honoria. You're... being very kind." She looked at Charles. "You both are."
The formal remark sounded awkward, and there was a rather strained silence for a moment, till Honoria said, a little over-brightly, "Have you found t...time to do much shopping yet, Eleanor?"
No, I haven't really been out much. There's Beth to look after, and I really don't know Boston very well so..."
"Oh, but I'll be happy to show you around," said Honoria, "I can steer you in the direction of all the buh... best shops. If we can't find anything you w...want in central Boston, we'll go over to Harvard Square."
"And if you'd just agree to taking on that Nanny I suggested," said Charles, "You wouldn't have to worry about taking Beth with you."
Ellie shook her head, more in doubt than rejection. "I don't know, Charles. I never left her with anyone but Brandy, and then it was only while I played my little recitals. And I'm still not comfortable with the idea of spending your money." Though she had to admit it was not unpleasant having a luxury suite at the Boston Hilton; and if she was going to marry Charles – something she was still ambivalent about if truth be known – she ought to know her way around Boston at least. So – "Alright, I would appreciate your showing me round, Honoria." She smiled. "So far, I've had whistle-stop tours of the Museum of Fine Arts, the Old State House, Boston Mercy, and Symphony Hall."
"Which I have promised to take her to next Saturday evening for the Beethoven concert," said Charles. "Which means we will have to have someone to look after Beth by then anyway."
"Yes but..." Ellie sighed. After all, it would be nice to have some time off now and then, especially with Brandy still in Colorado. "I don't want a full-time nanny," she said, firmly, "Beth is my responsibility."
"And mine," said Charles, firmly.
" – and I'll take care of her as much as I can. But – okay, a couple hours a day, I guess. It would be nice to have some 'me' time."
"Good," said Charles, "I'll ask Mrs Brunson if she can start tomorrow."
"Tell her to come for 10.00," said Honoria, "And then I can call round for Eleanor at t...ten-thirty once she's got things organised."
"Wait – hang on a second. You already had someone all lined up?" said Ellie, indignantly, "Who the hell – pardon me – who on earth is this lady, and why should I trust her to look after my daughter when I've never even met her? Don't I get any say in this?" She scooped Beth up off Honoria's knee as she spoke and gave her a kiss.
"I'm sorry," said Charles, "I was trying to – I suppose I was trying to make up for lost time and take some of the parental worry off your hands."
Ellie gave him a look that he was already beginning to recognise as meaning that he wasn't quite forgiven but she'd give it some thought. "Mrs Brunson looked after us when we were small," he said.
"She's the one who d...dropped Charles on his head," said Honoria, wryly, drawing a giggle from Ellie. "And given that she's semi-retired now, I'm sure p...part-time hours will suit her just as well as you."
Beth was beginning to fuss and fret, and Honoria took it as her cue to leave. "Remember – I'll pick you up at t…ten-thirty," she said to Ellie, giving Beth a parting kiss and a wave. "And if that noise m...means she needs feeding, let him do it!"
"As a matter of fact, I do know how to feed a baby," said Charles, shutting the door after his sister and wandering back into the main room, "Apart from my paediatric training, we had a half-Korean infant left outside the Swamp one night, and we practically fought over her. Colonel Potter pulled rank to give her a medical exam, I remember."
"What happened to her? Did she go to that orphanage with Father Mulcahy?"
"No." Charles picked up the phone and called room service for a bottle of warm infant-formula milk and some rusks, before he went on with the story.
"Poor kid," said Ellie, when he had finished, "What an awful way for her to have to grow up."
"I know. But we just couldn't find another way."
A knock on the door heralded the arrival of Beth's milk, and Ellie went to fetch it. "I have to admit this is a hell of a lot easier than mixing the stuff myself," she said, handing him both baby and bottle to see whether he really could – would – feed her. "But it's still all a bit… well, strange."
"Don't expect me to make a habit of this," said Charles, "And don't tell anyone else about it, will you?"
"Not even Honoria?"
"Especially not Honoria! I'd never hear the last of it! This is being done solely to prove the veracity of my boast."
"Uh-huh. That would certainly explain the proud paternal smile. You really love her, don't you?"
The beautiful blue eyes that had been her undoing in Korea turned to look into hers. "You didn't seriously think I wouldn't?"
"I had no idea how you'd react," she said, as their gazes locked, "We really don't know each other very well, Charles." Suddenly flustered, she looked away, steadied the bottle he was holding.
"I know," he said, quietly, "I feel I should be spending more time with you – with both of you – to get to know you better. But I can't just drop everything..."
"It's okay, I understand. At least you want to get to know me. That's got to be good, right? And I'll be getting to know more about you from Honoria."
"Hmm, I'm not sure about that idea. I think perhaps I'll call her and postpone your little expedition until I've had a little more time to talk to you myself."
"Don't you dare, Charles Winchester! You know, I wasn't very keen on this outing, but I'm really beginning to warm up to it. Just don't expect me to buy anything, okay?"
"Not even for Beth?" Those eyes were looking into hers again, this time with an unmistakeable twinkle. She was going to have to find a way to resist them.
Just, perhaps, not right now.
"Okay," she conceded, "Maybe something for Beth."
Charles had not had an easy morning. A scheduled operation had proved to be trickier than anticipated, he'd had to confirm a diagnosis of cancer in a woman not much older than himself, there was a stack of files and reports to go through before he got anywhere near his afternoon appointments, and he somehow had to find time to do rounds with some of the interns before he could even think of going home.
And his day was just about to get more difficult.
"Oh, I have that number for you, Doctor," said his secretary, as he collected the files he needed from her desk and started through to his office, "Doctor Potter. Shall I put the call through for you?"
"No, no – I'll do it," he said, taking the piece of paper she was proferring. "Uh – thanks. Bring me a coffee through, will you?"
Shutting his office door with his foot, he dropped the files and notes he was carrying onto his desk and tugged the note with Potter's phone number free from the pile.
He sat down, rubbed his eyes, and slowly sipped the coffee that Miss Walters brought him. He toyed with the idea of dealing with his 'in' tray before calling the Colonel, but he knew he really shouldn't put it off any longer.
He lifted the receiver, dialled.
"Colonel? I mean..."
"Doctor Winchester! As I live 'n' breathe! Didn't think I'd be hearing from you, son." Charles heard the other man's voice become muffled: "Mildred! One of the boys on the line – how's about that? No – the other one..." The line crackled, presumably signalling that Potter had removed his hand from the receiver. "So, to what do I owe the honour, Winchester? Presume you ain't just callin' to say how-de-do and chew the fat?"
Sometimes, the old boy caught on remarkably quickly, thought Charles. "Ah, yes indeed sir. I was wondering... Are you doing anything on 24th October? No? Good! Well, the fact of the matter is I – er – I need a Best Man."
"Best...? As in wedding? Hot diggedy! You didn't waste much time, boy. Which of the Beacon Hill beauties is the lucky lady?"
"Actually, uh...Sherman, it's – ah – someone I met in Korea. You may remember we had a visit last year from the USO?"
"Hell, yes, I remember. You telling me it's one of those girls? Didn't think any of 'em would have been your type, Charles."
"Yes, well, as it happens, Eleanor – she was the one with the accordion? – Ellie's an extremely talented pianist, and I think – I hope – we have a lot of things in common."
"You hope? You sure you ain't rushing in to this, son?"
Charles bit his lip and paused for a moment before replying.
"Charles? Winchester, you still there?"
He sighed. "Yes, I'm just – er – that is... The thing is, Colonel, that when I ran into Ellie by chance a few days ago, I discovered that we already have rather more in common that I'd suspected. The name of our little 'common interest' is: Elizabeth Charlotte."
"Elizabeth Ch... Jumpin' Jehosophat! Charles, you telling me you've got a baby?"
"Somewhat to my surprise, sir – yes."
"Huh! So much for the mumps!"
That remark made the corners of Charles' lips twitch despite himself. He had forgotten how worried he'd been about that bout of mumps affecting his fertility. "Indeed. Anyway, I've persuaded Ellie that we should get married, so – as I said, I require a Best Man, and I wondered whether you...?"
"I'd be honoured. By the way, how's your family with this?"
"If you could keep the weekend of 24th free, sir, I'd appreciate it," said Charles, choking on an answer to the question. "I'll send you all the details and tickets for the flight. I... really appreciate your doing this, sir."
On Saturday morning, Charles phoned Ellie to say he wouldn't be over to see her till the afternoon, as he had been called in on an emergency.
"Guess I'd better get used to it, huh?" she said, when he'd explained.
But he had already hung up.
He made up for it that afternoon, arriving with flowers and a box of Wallingford and Chadwick's finest chocolates, plus a squeaky toy for Beth, who seized it with joy and promptly started chewing on it.
"How's the patient?" asked Ellie, while he poured himself a drink.
"He'll be alright," he said, "It wasn't easy though."
"I don't suppose you get called in for the easy ones."
"No. One of the burdens of greatness, I'm afraid."
"That is so arrogant!"
"I prefer to think of it as a fact of life," he said, with a shrug, "I am a brilliant surgeon. I'm a mediocre piano player, I don't suppose I could hit a baseball if my life depended upon it, and when under fire I am a total coward. I'm not without flaws, Ellie – it's just that surgery isn't one of them."
"With people of limited ability, modesty is merely honesty. But with those who possess great talent it is hypocrisy," quoted Ellie.
"Diogenes?" guessed Charles, obviously impressed.
"Schopenhauer. They didn't just teach us music at Juilliard, you know." In truth, she'd looked it up a little more recently than that. But no point in letting Charles know that.
"At least you're making use of their piano lessons now, rather than toting that ridiculous squeezebox around," he said, putting down his glass and glancing around."By the way – where is the wretched thing? Didn't you bring it with you?"
"I don't have it any more," she said, kneeling down beside her daughter, "I had to sell it when..." A shrug, "Hospital bills, you know?"
"I'm sorry."
"No you're not – you hated it!"
"I meant..."
She nodded. "I know what you meant." Beth was still trying to eat the squeaky toy, and Ellie took it away from her, which brought on a flood of tears. Ellie offered her the teething ring instead, but she didn't want it and threw it onto the carpet, wailing louder than ever.
Charles broke first, moving across to scoop the child up, and attempting to quieten her by taking her for a walk around the room. When that didn't work, he bent down for the toy he'd bought her and squeaked it, teasingly out of her reach. Beth's reaction was to be sick on his shoulder.
"Oh no!" Ellie jumped up, took Beth from him and wiped her mouth. "Oh, Charles, I'm so sorry!" She couldn't help but laugh though at the look on his face.
"I suppose I should have taken my jacket off first," he said, removing it now and holding it at arms length.
"I think she's tired," said Ellie, "She wouldn't settle down after her lunch. I'll pop her down again now, see if she'll go off."
When she returned from Beth's room, it was to find Charles handing his jacket and tie to a bell-hop, with instructions to have them ready before midnight. Shutting the door, he leaned back against it, hands in pockets. "Second tie I've had to have cleaned this week," he said. "So - getting back to Juilliard. You never told me how you got from there to Korea."
She shrugged, started to pick Beth's toys up off the floor. "I never made it to graduation. When my dad died, mom couldn't afford to keep me there, even on a scholarship. So I had to leave and start earning my keep. Then momma passed on too, and I hooked up with Marina because she could sing, and we did okay. We'd never have got rich, but we managed, and we kinda looked out for each other, you know?" He looked blank, so she elaborated: "It made us safer from unwanted advances, being two of us?"
"Oh. And what about – uh – 'wanted' advances?"
"Yeah, well, till you came along there weren't too many of those." He looked relieved, and she had a feeling there was more to that than met the eye. "Afraid I might have some skeletons in my closet?" she teased, putting the toys in their box.
He half-smiled, but she noticed that his eyes went sad and dreamy. "Something like that."
"What was her name?"
"I... what?"
"The girl with the dark secrets. Who was she?"
"How did you...?" He shook his head. "It really doesn't matter now."
"You loved her?"
"Yes. I did. But it was never going to work. And it's hardly fair to talk about her when I'm here with you." He took the toy box from her, looked around. "Where does this live?"
"In the corner over there. Charles?"
"Yes?"
She sat down, brushed her hair out of her eyes. "If it matters to you, I truly don't have a very colourful past." He came and sat next to her and she toyed with the collar of his shirt. "About the most disreputable thing I ever did was to get pregnant by some doctor I liked in Korea."
This time, the smile reached his eyes. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have even tried to ask."
"No, it's okay."
"And I interrupted you. You didn't finish telling me how you got to Korea in the first place."
"Not much to tell there," she said, waving a hand dismissively. "Marina saw an advert for the USO and talked me into signing up. We met Brandy and Freddie Nichols and decided to team up. Sarah joined us just before we flew out to Tokyo. I was hoping I might make enough money to finish my studies but..."
Charles looked at her, guiltily and took one of her hands in his. "I'm sorry. I really messed up your life, didn't I?"
"I told you, Charles, I'm not sorry I had Beth. Stop blaming yourself – it wasn't entirely your fault you know! There were two of us in that supply room, did you get the impression that either of us was an unwilling partner?"
He smiled at that. "Hardly."
"Then put the brakes on the guilt trip, Winchester."
"I'll try." He squeezed her hand. "By the way, I bought you something." He stood up and went to the table where he had put the things he'd taken out of his jacket, returned with a small velvet-covered box in his hand.
"Is that what I think it is? You bought me a ring?" She hadn't given any thought to it herself, and was touched that he had.
"Of course I have," he said, opening the box. "I hope it fits."
"Oh my! It's... beautiful! Is it white gold?" Ellie gasped.
"Platinum," he said, "I thought it set off the sapphires rather well."
"Yeah, and the diamonds too." She looked up at him as he slid the ring onto her finger.. "Did Honoria know about this?"
"I did ask her advice about it, yes," he said, "How did you guess?"
"She talked me into buying a new dress for the concert this evening and, strangely enough, it happens to be sapphire blue."
"I look forward to seeing it," he said, "Right now though, I want to hear more about Juilliard. Tell me, did you study with William Schuman?"
"Wait, I'll open the chocolates," she said, "Then we can talk."
He left at half past five when Mrs Brunson arrived, allowing Ellie time to get ready. She was all nerves when Charles returned to collect her at 7.15, but when she opened the door and heard his intake of breath she relaxed a little.
"You look..." He groped for the right word, "Stunning."
"Thanks. You don't look so bad yourself," she replied, wondering what his reaction would be if she owned up to just how wonderful she really thought he looked in his dinner jacket and black bow tie.
As they exited the Hotel and she saw the car door being held open for her, Ellie hesitated. "A chauffeur? For real?"
"Of course a chauffeur," he replied, helping her into the car and climbing in beside her. "Saves no end of worry about where to park."
She looked out of the window as they drove along, though she wasn't concentrating on what she saw: her thoughts were already racing ahead to Symphony Hall and what lay in store for her – for them – there.
"Penny for them?" said Charles.
She managed a smile. "Cheapskate!"
"If you're worrying about what people will say – don't. I doubt we'll hear it directly anyway – seems to be bad form to be seen talking to me at the moment."
She turned to look at him. "People are snubbing you? Because of me?" She put a hand on his arm. "I'm sorry - I really messed up your life, didn't I?"
"Touché," he said, "But don't worry – we'll only be gossip fodder for a week or so. Next week, next month, someone else will get their gilt edging rubbed off. I'm a Winchester, as you will be very soon – they can't afford to snub us for ever."
The car glided to a halt outside Symphony Hall, and Charles put a hand on her arm to remind her not to open the door herself and leap out. "You'll get used to it," he assured her.
She clung to Charles' arm as they went inside, only too aware that the buzz of conversation all but ceased as they walked into the foyer, before resuming at a higher volume than before. She caught occasional snatches as Charles steered her through the throng and up the stairs – "...an accordion for goodness sake...", "...cheap little...", "...I suppose he's sure it's his?…"
"You are ignoring them, aren't you?" murmured Charles, who could doubtless feel her grip on his arm getting tighter and tighter.
"I'm trying to."
"Not much further."
There were fewer people at the upper level, and only a few yards to cover to the door of the Winchester box. Charles ushered her in, and Ellie let out a breath she'd not realised she was holding as she sat down in comfort and relative privacy.
"I'm sorry," he said, handing her a Programme, "Perhaps I should have waited a few weeks before..."
"No, it's okay. Better to let them get the bile off their chests now, rather than let it fester."
"Not the most medically accurate analogy I've ever heard, but I have to agree with the sentiment," he said.
"Are you sure your parents won't be coming this evening? I keep half-expecting your mother to come through that curtain and pitch me into the stalls."
Instead of answering, he just gave an enigmatic smile and pointed to the Programme she was holding. She opened it up – and saw immediately why he was not worried about his mother joining them in the box.
"Your mother is playing the Emperor concerto? Why didn't you tell me? I didn't even know she was a concert pianist!"
"She just does a couple of concerts a year with the Boston Symphony," said Charles, "But she's good." He gave her a sideways look. "She went to Juilliard."
"And you didn't think to mention this earlier?"
"I thought it would be more fun to surprise you," he said, as the orchestra began to take their places. "Oh, and before you ask why my father isn't here, he is." He pointed to a Box on the opposite side of the stage. "He's in the VIP Box this evening. So you don't have to worry about bumping into either of them." He hesitated for a moment and his expression became more serious. "I have to warn you though, Ellie – I might have to go out."
"You're on call at the hospital?" She was alarmed.
"No, not leave. Just... just go out." While the orchestra began to warm up, he explained what had happened to the Chinese POWs he had taught to play Mozart. "I haven't been able to listen to a record since – and this is the first concert I've been to since I got back," he said, "I was so glad you weren't playing classical music at the Metropolitan. I don't think I could have borne it."
"Music, when soft voices die, Vibrates in the memory."
He nodded. "Shelley certainly got that right."
"Oh, Charles, and you love your music so much." She gripped his hand in sympathy and, as the concert began, he held onto it as though it were a lifeline.
He didn't go out. But as the French horns and 'cellos swelled the Pastoral Symphony to its soaring climax in the fifth movement, he put his head in his hands. Ellie could feel the tension across his shoulders as she put a hand on his back to offer comfort.
As the last note died away and the applause began, he sat up and wiped his eyes. "I'll be alright," he said, shakily, standing up and clapping. "Probably just as well that my parents aren't sitting here. They wouldn't understand."
"Or approve?"
"Most assuredly not! I tried to explain to them when I got back, about how it was – the fear, the death, the sheer futility of it all but..." He sighed, hopelessly, "I suppose you really had to be there."
The applause had stopped, people were reaching for coats and bags, but Charles sat down again and Ellie did the same.
"Charles, what you were doing wasn't futile," she pointed out, "There's a lot of guys walking around today who'd be dead if it wasn't for you. I saw what all of you did out there."
"You did, didn't you? Some small part of it, anyhow. Perhaps some day you'll be able to explain it to them – " He jerked his chin in the direction of the departing socialites, " – because I can't. I'm not even sure I care enough to keep trying."
"That doesn't sound like the Charles Emerson Winchester I met in Korea."
"The Charles Emerson Winchester you met died with those POWs," he said, "But I'm not sure I'd figured that out until now."
She smiled. "I think the better part of you survived."
He managed a shaky smile in return. "Maybe. Look, I was intending to take you out for dinner, but would you mind..."
"Skipping it? Of course not. We can order room service when we get back."
She took his arm as they left, relieved to see that 'most everyone else had already gone. "It was a wonderful concert," she said, "And your mother was brilliant. Thanks for bringing me."
"I'm glad you enjoyed it, despite... everything."
They began to discuss the evening's performance, and spent the car journey comparing favourite recordings. As they got out of the car, Charles told his driver he could go. "I'll get a cab home later."
Mrs Brunson was a little surprised to see them back so early, but reported that Beth had been fed, entertained, bathed and put to bed without any trouble at all. "I wish all my charges had been as good!" she added, looking pointedly at Charles as she spoke.
He gave her a beatific smile and dialled room service, while Ellie showed her out. The restaurant was still serving, so they were able to have a hot meal brought straight up. As they ate, Charles found himself telling Ellie about some of the better times at the 4077th – the tit-for-tat practical jokes, the friendships, the 'special' patients they would never forget.
"There was one in particular," he said, "I was so pleased with myself about saving his leg. But when he came round, all he was concerned about was his damaged hand. Turned out he was a concert pianist in civilian life."
"Oh no! What happened?"
Briefly, Charles outlined his efforts to get David Sheridan to believe there could be a future without the keyboard.
Ellie pushed her plate aside and propped her chin in her hands. So much for the brusque, uncaring image! she thought.
"Any idea what's happened to him since?"
"No. He wrote to me a couple of times once he got back Stateside, but with all the moving around we did... Anyway, I'm sure I'll hear about him sooner or later, once he's finished writing his first Opus." Pushing his chair back from the table, he stood up to go, reaching for the cleaned jacket and tie that the bell-hop had brought back an hour before.
"You know you... you don't have to go," said Ellie, as they stood by the door.
Cupping her chin with his free hand, he ran a thumb lightly across her lips before leaning down to kiss her, very gently.
"I do have to go," he said, "And right now. I will see you in the morning, Ellie. I... I'm glad you liked the concert."
He opened the door, made to go – then pulled her to him and kissed her as though he meant it. "Goodnight," he said, quietly – and was gone.
"Oh, damn it," she sighed, shutting the door and leaning against it. "Now he's got me really confused!".
To be continued…