A/N: Thanks for all the reviews!
ipegasus: Glad you liked the story! I'll try and put in some Nan and Jerry in the next chapter, but I'm not very good at writing them, but I'll try.
adriennelane: I'll update as much as I can- I'm really glad to know you liked it so much!
Una Meredith, Mary Rose Tinuviel: Una's yes are BLUE. I haven't been able to edit the first chapter (something wrong with my computer), but whenever I refer to Una's eyes, they'll definitely be BLUE. And thanks for the reviews, you guys, and for bringing the Una-error to light
Everything was strange that day- the day Jem and Jerry left for the war. The day was ugly, gloomy, and yet- yet, Faith felt, that there was an atmosphere of hope around her. As though the world was trying to tell her that everything was going to be fine one day, not necessarily in the near future, but sometime in the years to come.
"Everything is wrong with the world, and still…still everything is right…..", said Faith sadly to herself. She was looking at the sun, bright though it was, it was uncannily, strangely dull. And so Faith awoke, after a night of unrest and hasty 'napping'. She hadn't really slept a wink- she had been awake all night, worrying about her brothers and friends. It was uncharacteristic of her to worry, but so much had changed. She had changed. But Faith Meredith was a woman of strong will. "I am not going to let this crummy war make me miserable!" she said firmly to nobody. She jumped put of bed with as much enthusiasm as she could muster, and made her way down to the dining table. There her dear old mother was, cheerfully making Jerry his favorite breakfast, while her father was telling Jerry, his dear oldest son, about the horrors of the new world he was entering. Everything was sad, and yet all of them , without exception was making a visible effort to make the day as bearable as possible. And then Jerry went up to his room to collect his things. Faith had seen nothing of Jerry after the dance at the lighthouse. She knew he had been a lot with Nan after that night. And now she needed to talk with him one last time before he was gone.
"Packing?" she asked of him as she entered the room.
"Yes," he said, not turning to look at her.
"Are you sure you want to go, Jerry?" she said hurriedly, "It's horrible- horrible out there. I…I….just can't bear to think what might happen…" And her voice trailed away.
"Don't, Faith," Jerry said as he hugged her half-weeping form, "Don't cry, dear sister of mine…it'll all be fine…I'll write to you every week…I promise. I have to go, it is my duty, and as one of Canada's sons, I think it my responsibility to contribute to winning this war for Britain. So be brave, I know that of all the girls I know, you are the only one who can…" He kissed her cheek, and she just hugged him, and forcefully choked back her tears. She put on her fake shining bright smile on, and holding Jerry's hand went down, where everyone was waiting to leave for the station.
Jem Blythe was looking as handsome as ever in his khaki uniform. But that didn't make it any easier on any of them. He was leaving, and no one knew when he'd be back. He carried Bruce one last time, and told Bruce not to cry. "But Jem," protested little Bruce, "I can't help cwying! You are going away. Oh Jem!" And the little cherub threw his arms around Jem's neck, and wailed. Jem only wiped his tears, and told Bruce that they can write to each other so often, and they just won't feel like they're apart! Bruce relented, slowly, and it was only a smiling Bruce that said good bye to Jem. And Jem looked at Faith just as he was leaving. Her bright face was more than he could take, and he couldn't stop himself from kissing her passionately before everybody. She blushed a billion shades, and held on to him so tightly, that it seemed impossible that Jem would ever get on the train. "You come back home soon, Jem Blythe," she whispered to him as she let go. He only kissed her once more, and was off. Faith was in a daze. Everything was happening so fast, that she didn't know where she was- the train was puffing out of the station, and she saw Jem wave to her happily. "At least," she thought to herself, as she waved back to both Jerry and Jem, "I will always know that I was once loved."
Faith looked around her. Everybody seemed to have left. She was alone in the station, except for Dog Monday. She scratched him behind his ear. He cuddled into her a bit, and they stayed with each other, finding comfort in each other's grief. She knew that if ever she lost hope during this hateful war, here was where she could find hope again. That little faithful dog had taught them all so much- and it was rather funny that a yellow little thin like that could know so well the meaning of loyalty. Faith kissed the dog, and it went away to its new residence. And, now Faith felt empty. She felt that something was missing.
Faith had wanted to help during the war in some way or the other. She knew she couldn't become a soldier, but she still wanted to be of some use during this war. And then as she was just standing in the station looking about her carelessly, she saw a notice put up on the board. And this is what it said:
Wanted- Young, physically fit women to VOLUNTEER for nursing during the war. Voluntary Aid Detachment (VAD) work available. Contact your nearest Red Cross office for further details. (This job is voluntary, there will be no income for a volunteer).
And that was when Faith made up her mind. She had heard about it, and was eager to join the purpose of winning the war. She asked the station master where the nearest Red Cross office was, and he told her that there was one in Glen St.Mary- down the market road, the last door on the right. She quickly came out of the station. She walked determinedly towards the Red Cross office. She hesitated a moment before she walked in. Redmond…would have to wait.
At the reception in the small room that she walked into, was a small lady with glasses. She was middle-aged, and had a slight hunch. She seemed a little formidable, and Faith walked, up to her in light, uncertain steps, trying to draw the woman's attention to herself. Faith cleared her throat. "Excuse me," she said softly, "is this where I can enquire about VAD?"
The woman looked up at her slowly, as though unwilling to tell her anything at all. "Yes," she said in a hoarse voice, "but let me spare you the trouble- many girls have wanted to help the cause of the war," and she said this mockingly, "but once they learn that they might have to go away to Europe- London or Paris, far from their family, they back out immediately. So you can leave now," and the woman with the glasses went back to her register. Faith was taken aback- she hadn't expected this rudeness. "So I'll have to travel to Europe?" she asked timidly. "The woman looked up at her with strangely glaring eyes. "Were you even listening to what I just said? Leave, wont you?" And she pointed to the door.
But Faith was now certain that even if she had to go to the other end of the world, she would do it. She couldn't stay at home, in all its secure splendor, while her brother and lover fought for her own freedom. She'd help. "How do I join?" she asked the receptionist firmly. The receptionist looked shocked, and slowly, with unsteady hands, handed Faith the application form. As Faith filled it in, she looked at her, and said slowly, as though willing to do anything at all to discourage this pretty woman, "It doesn't pay, you know?"
"I know," said Faith, simply, with a smile, and handed in the form.
The woman took it, stamped here and there, and looked up at Faith, saying, "You will be leaving in a month, you will have two weeks of training at Halifax before you leave. There are no jobs here in Canada, so you will be leaving by the first ship to London on the 8th of October."
Faith only nodded and left the room. She was all flushed and bright, and was happy with herself. Now she would fight the war too. She will help all those young boys out there win this awful war, and all this, she knew, will take her mind off the agony of despair. She made her first quick steps in so many days, and walked back home. She wasn't going to tell anybody just yet- she wasn't sure how her father was going to take it. Yet, she felt she had to tell Una now. Una would listen, at least.
Una was sitting quietly in her bedroom, looking out of the window- into the dull sunshine of the day. She did not hear Faith come in, and was still peeping into the dark future before them, when Faith's voice startled her.
"Una dearest," said Faith, "Do you know what I've just gone and done?" Una recovered from the initial shock of finding that she wasn't alone on the room, and smiled at her impulsive sister, and said, "What is it, Faith?"
"Well…" Faith began, "I….I've signed up for VAD work- you know…volunteering to nurse wounded soldiers"
Una stared at her sister…she slowly began to understand… "Faith…" she said, slowly, "that….that might mean that you….you go to Europe….or someplace far, far away….Faith darling…why? Why? Whatever will we do without you and Jerry, Faith….don't go…don't do this to us…" Una sat, dumbstruck on her bed.
"I have to, Una," said Faith, "you don't seem to understand- you don't know the pain of losing- or uncertainty of losing someone you love…I can't live here, living in fear of losing Jem- I must go away to cope with my feelings, and to take my mind away from that danger."
Una now knew that she must be supportive, for Faith needed her. She knew that once Faith made up her mind, nobody could change it. She loved and cared for her sister very much, but she had made many sacrifices in her life, this would be just one more. Faith would go away, leaving her, Una, the entire responsibility of caring for their broken family. But Una would support Faith. She understood.
"Fine," said Una, holding her sister's light hand, "You must go if you feel so strongly about it. I will help you convince Father, he will also understand."
The sisters hugged each other, and two days later went down to the study to break the news to the Reverend.
But their dear old father took it very well. He understood. He knew what love could make people do, and he sympathized with his daughter's want to be away from the place that reminded her of her misery. He only said, as she sat down by his side, "Be careful, Faith, for you don't now what this new place and time will have in store for you- it's a strange world out there, but never lose hope. Write every week, and come away as much as you can. Go, if you must, but bring back light to this dark home when you return."
And that was that. Faith Meredith was going to England.
Faith tried to catch Walter to talk to him, but he kept disappearing somewhere. She hadn't seen him forever, and now she knew there was something wrong. She wondered if it was a girl. He seemed to have been purposely staying out of her way for a while now, and she thought it curious ,and she wanted to know why. She got her chance much later, when he was walking past Carter Flagg's store on evening, on his way home. She saw him, and noticing that he hadn't seen her, she crept up silently behind him and tapped him on the soldier. Walter started. He saw Faith and regained his composure.
"You startled me, Faith," he said as they started walking together.
"Sorry about that….I just thought that if I needed to talk to you, I had to surprise you, because you, dearest friend have been obviously avoiding me." She had initially hesitated to say all this, but she knew she had to tell him.
"I'm sorry, Faith- it's just everything- you know," stammered Walter, "It's this wretched war, and the thought of Jem and Jerry away, and well…..just everything."
"And…," asked Faith, raising her eyebrows, "I know there is something else. I can tell by that look on your face. Walter Blythe, you tell me now."
"Nothing, Faith," said Walter, this time more forcefully, and Faith understood that she must quit, and he changed the subject, "So how are you faring?"
"Well…well," said Faith, slowly, "I'm coping- it's not too bad, you know."
And her eyes grew small, and sad. Walter could tell she had been crying a lot of late. But he did not know what to say. He had to watch his moves, for now he knew that he was letting his guard down, and his face would give him away. He resisted the urge to put his arm around her.
"I'm going to England next week," she said all of a sudden, "I'm doing VAD work. I just thought you should know."
"Oh," said Walter, he had not expected this, but slowly added, "good, good. You will be happy, I'm sure. But so soon? Next week?"
"Yes," she said, "It was more a spur of the moment thing, you know. I wanted to help, and that's what I intend to do!"
She smiled at him, and he smiled back. And after a few minutes of silent walk, when they were nearing the end of their journey, he said, "Write to me, Faith, and come home occasionally."
"I will," she promised, "and besides, I will be so close to Jem!"
And she left Walter standing there a few minutes, musing.
A month later, the Blythes and the Merediths were again gathered at the station once more- this time to see one of their precious girls off. The Doctor and his wife thought that their twins were still too young to go away to Europe, and so Nan was a little peeved that Faith got to go and she did not. But she was still cheerful for Faith's sake- it had been a difficult time for all of them, and though the Nan-Faith relationship had never sailed on smooth seas, since the onslaught of war, they had grown close. Their differences had been set aside, and they shared their grief in having a lover away at war. They hugged each other warmly at the station, and told each other, in whispers to keep faith that both Jem and Jerry would come back home safe. "Write to all of us, keep us updated," said Nan, and added with a wink, "and if you happen to meet Jerry anytime, tell him I argue with him only because I love him so!"
"Write often," said Una to her sister, and gave her a little handkerchief on which she had embroidered Faith's initials, and also woven beneath it the words: HOPE.
Faith kissed Una, and hugged her tightly, as though keeping her in her heart, and not wanting to let go. "I'll never lose hope, Una dearest," she said, "but you must also pray for all our boys out there." Una's smile was her promise, and that was enough for Faith. She embraced her Father and Mother, and with the memory of her long dead mother in her heart, she boarded the train. But she felt something was missing. She felt empty. What was wrong? She felt as though her goodbyes had been incomplete. And then she knew. A certain friend hadn't been there at the station. Faith hadn't said goodbye to Walter Blythe. He hadn't seen her off at the station, and that made Faith feel rather unhappy and miserable.
She looked longingly back at the platform, but knew that he hadn't been there. She felt a pang in her heart. She knew something was wrong, and she was determined to find out. And Faith, for the umpteenth time in those three months, choked back her tears.
James Matthew Blythe looked down at a small black-and-white photograph. There was only a mesmerizing, laughing face on it- the face of a young girl. He felt the paper as though he was actually feeling the features of the girl in the picture. The tall lad smiled. He closed his eyes and dreamt- of beautiful Glen, rainbow valley, of Ingleside, of his red haired girl-faced mother, his sturdy father with that reliable look in his eyes, of Walter and his poems, of the twins in the splendor of their youth, of quiet brown Shirley and of 'little' Rilla. He thought of Jerry, his best pal, the one person he knew would always be there for him, even in the trenches, of wistful Una, and, of course, bug-loving, pleasant faced Carl. And he dreamt that he was looking into the eyes of the girl in the picture- picturing her face as she told him that she loved him, and that she just couldn't do without him. Jem missed home more than he could imagine. War had proved to be more than just adventure. Practical, hard-working Jem could think of nothing but that one aspect of war before he had come away to England. And now he knew that the pain and heartache was more difficult to brave than war itself. He was afraid, and he wasn't denying it. Jem of the old days was different from the our Jem now. He had changed, and visibly, too. He had become mature in so short a while, and even Jerry occasionally asked him what had happened to the 'real' Jem. And Jem, strong, firm, optimistic Jem of the recent past had suddenly begun to lose hope.
"God….why…." he would ask of the starlit sky, "why must life be so hopeless? We are never going to win this war- I know that…..I know it….and this battlefield is going to be my grave…."
And so, even Jem had changed. Of Jem, his mother had said that he could never be different- he will always remain curious, adventurous, dependable 'little' Jem. Anne would not have believed her eyes had she seen the forlorn figure.
But love, they say, heals. And here it did. Faraway Faith had rekindled the fire of hope in Jem's vacant heart, and he put the little photograph away. He went around his tent, and found his way into a little gathering of soldiers, all preparing to eat their final meal of the day. These were Jem's new friends, his new life.
"Where have you been Jem," they asked as he made himself seen.
"Nowhere," said an uncannily dreamy Jem, "just thinking of home…"
"And…" added Jerry with a sly grin on his face, "dreaming of my sister!"
There was a roar of whistles and teasing from every direction of the camp.
But Jem didn't blush- and that was Jem- if he loved someone, he loved her- and he wasn't afraid of telling everyone- not even the girl's brother, who might want to bash him up. But Jerry was, after all, Jerry. And he rather liked the idea of Faith and Jem.
After dinner, or what Jerry thought one step worse than Aunt Agatha's 'ditto', they retired to their tents, either to catch some well deserved sleep and rest, or to write letters home. Most of them were from Canada, and there were only a few from England. Jem and Jerry shared a tent, and went back to write letters.
"I'm slowly losing all hope that I had, Jerry," said Jem slowly, holding his head in his hands, tearing his hair apart.
"Don't Jem," said Jerry, " it's only been three months- and we have a long way to go, we'll be fine. Think of our days at the valley, with all of them back home, of our parents, waiting and praying for every second- we have a duty to do, let us do it without letting our emotions make the better of us. And anyway, Faith's in London. You won't be able to see her yet, but I know she'll be here in Christmas."
"I wonder," said Jem, "where we will be during Christmas."
And they both sat silently and just wrote.