FOYLE'S WAR- FAUX PAS- CHAPTER 6
Disclaimer- Foyle's War is the creation of Anthony Horowitz. It is brilliant television and the actors are wonderful. Rachel, Jimmy and the Reverend Frank Broussard are my own.
A/N- A manse is a house owned and maintained by a church as a dwelling place for it's clergy- i.e. minister, vicar, priest, rector. Other names for this sort of dwelling are vicarage, rectory and parsonage.
What's with the French surnames? Dubose and Broussard. Many French Huguenots (French Protestants) settled in colonial America, a lot of them came to South Carolina. The Huguenots that settled in America were in part responsible for the beginnings of the Presbyterian church in America, although some Huguenots became part of Anglican parishes in the colonies. Since Rachel and her family are from Charleston, I wanted to make some of my characters have a Huguenot background.
As Rachel slept, memories transformed into dreams that were deceptively peaceful at their beginning but quickly turned into noisy, terrifying and surreal horrors so vivid that she felt as if she was actually living through the experiences again.
7:50 am Sunday, December 7, 1941- Pearl City, Island of Oahu, Hawaii Territory
"Rachel, are you sure about this wedding on Saturday? It seems like such a hurried affair, is there something you aren't telling me?"
"What do you mean, Uncle Frank?"
The kind face of the man sagged under the weight of the answer he both expected and dreaded. Benjamin Franklin Broussard sighed and raked his fingers through what was left of his silver colored hair. "You know exactly what I mean."
Rachel knew she owed her uncle the truth. After all, she'd been living with him for over six months and he was her mother's oldest brother and a Presbyterian minister as well. "I might as well tell you now- I'm pregnant, probably about 2 months along."
"Oh Lord! Rachel, have you told Jimmy?"
"Of course."
"Is this why you two are in such a hurry to get married?"
"Well it certainly adds a greater sense of urgency to everything, but much more than that- we want to get married before the U.S. gets into the War and his ship has to sail out into the Pacific. Uncle Frank, I've loved Jimmy Dubose all my life and all I want to do is be his wife." She hesitated for a moment, feeling guilty at the disappointment she saw in her uncle's eyes. "I'm sorry, Uncle Frank. Jimmy and I had the wedding night before the wedding."
Frank Broussard had heard that many times before and it just meant to him that his niece was human. His overriding concern for her was that she would be a new bride and expectant mother while her husband was at war and only Heaven knew if and when he would return.
"Rachel, have you told your folks that you and Jimmy are getting married this coming Saturday…and that you're pregnant?"
Rachel sighed , "No sir, I haven't. What can they do about it? After Jimmy and I are married, I'll let them know."
"Your mama is going to have my hide. You know that, don't you?"
"Yes, I know. I'm sorry." Rachel gave her uncle an apologetic hug.
"Well, your folks won't stay mad at us forever and all will be forgiven when that baby arrives."
She smiled and agreed, "Yeah, they'll probably forget about me when the baby gets here."
"Oh Rachel, George and Marguerite love you so much, you'll always be their "little girl". Speaking of forgetting or should I say remembering- you have everything arranged for the wedding this coming Saturday?"
Her lips turned up in a slight smile as she enumerated on her fingers- "got the church, the minister, the marriage license, the dress and I've asked your next door neighbors, Mrs. Simpson and her husband to be the witnesses. Can you think of anything I might have forgotten?"
Frank Broussard scratched his head for a second and then told her, "No, it sounds like you've got everything lined up. I just hope you two are going to share a long, happy life together."
The drone of aircraft engines cut short their conversation. This was immediately followed by the thundering sound of explosion after explosion.
Rachel clutched her uncle's arm, her eyes filled with fear. "Uncle Frank, are we under attack?"
He closed his eyes for a moment, sending a silent prayer to Heaven before he answered,"Yes Rachel, it looks like we are. It was just a matter of time and the Japanese have decided the time is now."
Both of them hurried to the living room window of the manse to see the attack playing out in front of their eyes. From their vantage point in Pearl City they could see across the channel to Ford Island and Battleship Row where seven battleships, the USS Arizona among them, were moored. The airfield on the southern end of Ford Island was attacked first and then the battleships on the west and east ends of the island. The Arizona exploded when a bomb hit its powder magazine. The air was filled with smoke and fire.
Rachel screamed out, "Oh God…the Arizona… Jimmy… no!"
The shrill, insistent clanging of the hotel alarm and Rachel's scream invaded Christopher Foyle's sleep. Disoriented, he sat bolt upright in his bed trying to make sense of what was going on. Once his head cleared he went into action and got out of his bed. After putting on his dressing gown and slippers he ventured out into the hall. Hotel guests moved down the hallway towards the stairwell in a hurried, but in a surprisingly ordered fashion which he attributed to wartime air raid evacuation practice. Rachel was not among the people passing him. She was still in her room.
"Only someone deaf wouldn't hear that fire alarm. Does she sleep that soundly?"
He knocked on her door and received no response. Then he pounded the door several times and loudly shouted, "Miss Roberts! Get up; the fire alarm is going off! We've got to evacuate the hotel."
No sounds of movement in the room caused him to raise his voice a few decibels and call out, "Rachel, get up now! " He jiggled the door handled, pounded on the door again and called to her once more, "Rachel!" Finally, he heard a groan and then the sound of shuffling footsteps.
She jerked the door open and said one word, a name, "Jimmy?" He looked down to see her standing before him barefoot, wearing a nearly transparent nightgown. His eyes widened and for the briefest of moments he was transported back to his honeymoon and the memory of a nightgown that his late wife, Rosalind had worn.
The filmy piece of cloth left nothing to the imagination as it concerned Rachel's figure. The young woman was petite, but by no means waif like. The words "filled out" came to mind as he swept a hand over his face. Foyle chastised himself for becoming distracted by her appearance. "My God, why on earth is she wearing something like that? Must get her out of the building!"
Her eyes were glazed over and it was obvious that just because they were open did not mean she was fully awake. Foyle looked over the room, hoping to spot her coat or something else to cover her. "Rachel, where is your dressing gown?"
"Hmm?"
"Oh what do Americans call 'em?" A second later he recalled the word he'd been searching for. "Your robe, where is it?"
"Hmm?" She heard him but didn't comprehend what he was asking.
"No time for this." He squeezed past her, entered the room and snatched a blanket off the bed, wrapping it around her body. He then found her shoes in the corner of the room where she'd kicked them off while talking on the phone with her mother. He grabbed them and her hand, leading her out into the hall and down the stairs to the outside.
The moment her bare feet hit the cold pavement in front of the hotel, Rachel was fully awake but confused. "Where am I? What's going on?" She looked at her companion. Foyle stood beside her; wearing pajamas, a robe and slippers. He was hatless and in desperate need of a comb. Then she looked down and assessed her own state of dress- nothing but her underpants, the sheer nightgown and a blanket thrown around her and realized he'd received a revelation and it was certainly not a spiritual one! In the nightgown she wore there was very little left to the imagination.
Rachel began to shiver and pulled the blanket tightly around her body in a feeble effort to get warm. Her teeth chattered loudly as she hopped about from one foot to the other. Foyle handed her the shoes. "You might want these."
"Yes, thank you." She took the shoes from him, dropped them on the pavement and tried to put them on without losing her balance. With the grace of a dancer, Foyle wrapped his right arm around her waist and pulled her around to face him. "Hold on to me while you put on your shoes."
Rachel quickly complied and was thankful to have her shoes on. At least her feet were a little warmer. "Oh, that's better. Thank you Mr. Foyle." Reluctantly she started to pull away from him now that her task was accomplished.
"No. Don't move. You're shivering." He put his other arm around her and pulled her even closer. She had little choice but to relax and take comfort in the shared body warmth. Rachel wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head against his chest. Listening to the steady beat of Christopher Foyle's heart almost made her forget the terrible dream she had before he came to lead her out of the hotel.
Knowing what she was wearing under the blanket, Christopher was thankful for the cold night air because it served to keep his body from reacting to that knowledge while she clung to him. However, he soon found that he was glad to be holding her so close. It had been a very long time since he'd held a woman in that way. Rachel seemed to need more that just physical warmth, she needed to be comforted. His thoughts then moved to the sound of the scream he'd heard while the fire alarm was going off. It had been sorrowful and heart wrenching and he believed that it would have awakened him without the fire alarm blaring in his ears.
Time seem to crawl as they waited in the cold darkness for firemen and hotel staff to find what caused the fire alarm to go off. Rachel found herself wishing she could stay enfolded in Foyle's arms for the rest of the night. In that way, she wouldn't have to go back to sleep and face the bad dreams that plagued her almost every night.
In less than fifteen minutes a fireman called out to the hotel guests, "O.K. folks, you can go back inside. Everything is under control." As he passed the couple he chuckled and loudly whispered in Foyle's ear, "Alright mister, you can go back inside and warm up the little missus… You lucky devil!"
Rachel groaned and mumbled into Foyle's chest, "Oh... my …God! Did you hear what he said?"
Oh he'd heard the fireman alright! Foyle could feel the heat coming off her face. He didn't need a light to see it; he knew she was embarrassed. "Yep. I heard it."
"I could just die," she moaned.
"Would be a shame if you did."
"Inconvenient ?"
"Yep."
Rachel's embarrassment subsided and was replaced with amusement. She looked up at him and grinned. "O.K., I won't do it then."
One corner of his mouth lifted ever so slightly. "Good. Want to go inside?"
Rachel pulled her arms down and back away from him an inch before she answered, "Yep."
During the elevator ride back to their rooms, the fireman's words "warm up the little missus…You lucky devil!" continued to march through Christopher Foyle's head. This and the knowledge of what Rachel was or more accurately, not wearing under the blanket wrapped around her served to bring his body to the state he'd managed to avoid while standing outside in the cold night air with her. He needed to get inside his room as soon as possible!
Rachel stood by the door, hand on the doorknob hesitating to go into her room. Going back to sleep meant revisiting her nightmares. She looked up at Foyle, fear and vulnerability evident in her eyes. It made him want to take her in his arms and hold her; a very dangerous thing to do in considering his physical response to her
When she finally turned away from him and opened the door to her room, Foyle asked, "Rachel, will you be alright?"
She remained facing away from him and answered, "Yes sir."
"Not the truth, is it?"
Rachel turned around to face him. "You think I'm lying to you?"
He leaned his head to one side while biting his bottom lip. "You were screaming out a man's name just as the fire alarm started going off. Do you have nightmares every night?"
She didn't need to answer his question; he already knew the answer. Silent tears rolled down her cheeks as she answered with a strangled "yes".
Now Foyle succumbed to the very dangerous thing and pulled her into his arms. "What do I do now? We can't stand out here in the hall this way for the rest of the night."
Rachel read his thoughts. "Mr. Foyle, please come inside and….sit with me for a little while. Maybe I'll be able to go back to sleep and not have any more bad dreams tonight." She walked into the room and he followed her, hoping he wouldn't regret honoring her request.
Just when it seemed that the eventful day for Rachel and Christopher was over- a nightmare and fire alarm change things. He got an eyeful of Rachel and the fireman's comment about him being a "lucky devil" just made things more "interesting". Of course, she was embarrassed yet again. Seems to be a habit with her.
Being a gentleman, Christopher decides to stay with Rachel while she falls asleep. Poor man! It's not going to be easy.
Thanks for reading. Please review.
TBC
