Dear Fandom: I have removed my award-winning novel-length story, Cats & Dogs, from Inkitt in accordance with Kindle's TOS. On June 15th, I will be pulling the original short story from FFNet, ADF and TWCS to be expanded, edited and revamped for publication. As the original short story was written for charity, I will donate part of the proceeds of each book sold to pediatric cancer research. Love and thanks, Jmolly.
Chapter 15:
︻┳═一
September 28, 1916
︻┳═一
"Bella!" someone English hissed urgently. "Bella, wake up!"
Isobel squirmed. She was stiff and sore, but heat was pouring off Eddie. She tucked her face into his warm back and sighed in contentment. It was so lovely to sleep when there was a lull in the fighting.
"Nurse Masen!" a woman—Matron White—barked. "Attention!"
Isobel sat up so fast she almost fell off her cot. That's when she realized she was not in Ypres, but asleep on a hospital bed, boots and all, next to her husband. She pressed her palms to her flaming cheeks.
Katie looked furtively toward the door. "Get up now, before the doctor catches you! He's on his way here."
"Oh, lord, Katie. What time is it?"
"Four in the morning."
"Hell! I'm late for work!" Isobel climbed off the cot and brushed down her skirts, but her hair was hopelessly tangled. "I'm going tae be dismissed!" She spied Eddie's comb on the night table and tried to run it through her hair but all she did was make more knots.
Katie winced and fisted her hands in her apron. "I'm sorry! I was going to wake you earlier but he was sleeping so peacefully. Didn't cry out once. I didn't realize—"
"Can ye help me with my hair? Lord, where's my Dora Cap?"
"Here, on the floor!" Katie snatched it up and dropped it on the bed. Bella sat down on the wooden chair while Katie pulled her hair into three sections and braided it untidily. Eddie rolled over.
"What's going on?" he grumbled.
"I'm late for work!"
"There!" Katie said. "I can't get all your hair under your cap, but it will have to do."
Isobel leapt up but Eddie grasped her hand. "Don't worry about it, darling. If they let you go, we'll be fine."
"All right. Thank ye, love." She marched out of his room, down the stairs, through the foyer and out. Mercifully, there was a Tillings Co. motor bus pulling up outside the main entrance. (i) Isobel paid her fare and dropped into a seat with a sigh. Time crawled while her heart beat in her throat. When she reached Number Six Hospital, she jumped out, wet her feet in the gutter, and ran all the way to the door.
Matron Doyle was standing right inside, scowling. She wore her black hair screwed back tight and her dark eyes bored into Isobel over her hooked nose. The youngest nurses believed her a witch.
Isobel blushed and looked at the floor. "I'm sae sorry I'm late, Matron. It willnae happen again!"
"Running is unseemly, madam." Matron's boots clicked on the tiles as she made a circle around Isobel. "Your clothing is rumpled, your cap is crooked and dirty, and your hair looks atrocious. Why are you late?"
"I beg yer pardon, ma'am. My husband took a turn for the worse and he is in hospital again."
Matron Doyle raised her beetle brows. "This hospital?"
"No, ma'am." Please God, she would not demand to know which hospital. Eddie's reputation would be ruined.
"Why not? It is closest to your lodgings, is it not?"
Isobel couldn't look at her. "I don't know, ma'am. It's where they had the space, I suppose." The matron couldn't find fault with that; all the hospitals were over-capacity.
"You were there all night?"
"Yes, ma'am. I have been going straight from work. I thought I was going tae lose him."
The matron clicked her tongue. "I don't know why you were permitted to marry and remain in service. You should be tending to your husband."
"Ma'am, I was going tae ask for leave."
She flicked her wrist toward the doors. "Go on, then."
"Ma'am?"
Matron Doyle's expression softened momentarily and her eyes became girlishly pretty. "I'll call Betty in to cover for you. Seven days, Isobel."
Isobel's heart soared. "Yes, ma'am! Thank you, ma'am!" Isobel marched for the exit before the matron could change her mind.
"Go home and change before you see him. Wear something pretty!"
"Yes, ma'am!"
︻┳═一
"Breakfast!" Katie sang as she wheeled the squeaky tea trolley into Eddie's room. He turned from the window, his hands clasped casually behind his back.
"You're dressed!" Katie peeped.
"I will not wear the jacket or puttees again. I want my wife to bring me Muftis (ii)."
"The doctor will expect you to wear the uniform if you want to go home."
"I've served long enough. In the unlikely event that the army isn't done with me, I can heartily state that I'm done with it."
"I… see." Katie's tone indicated that she was holding back her disapproval. (iii)
Eddie sighed. Birds were singing outside and thanks to his foolish behaviour, the windows were nailed shut. "I'm sorry I've been rude, Nurse. It was wrong of me to take my troubles out on you and Isobel."
"Apology accepted," she said stiffly. "Do you feel better?"
"Yes, thank you. Did you mention breakfast?"
"I did, indeed." He could hear the smile enter her voice. "If you wouldn't mind me setting the other men's trays on your bed, you could use the trolley for a table and sit by the window."
"That would be very nice." When it was all arranged, Katie took the lid off his tray and the delicious scent of a proper English breakfast made his stomach rumble. "Thank you."
"Do you need help to eat?"
Eddie felt his lips turn up. "I've been blind for three months, you know."
"Of course you can manage," Katie said ruefully.
"It would help if you'd tell me where everything is on the tray."
"Ah, yes. Your cup of tea is on the far right. Would you care for lemon or milk?"
"No, thank you. I like it strong."
"Twelve to six o'clock is eggs and chips. Fried tomato from six to eight, and a lovely banger from nine to twelve."
"Would you mind cutting that for me, please?"
"Not at all. And your toast is buttered already. It's to your left."
"Thank you, Katie."
"How'd you know my name?" she asked as she cut up the sausage.
"I'm blind, not deaf. You and Bella are friends, eh?"
Katie tittered in embarrassment and went to speak to Hale and McCarty while Eddie tucked into his food. It was not as tasty as the fare Mrs. Biggins provided, but it was still hot and fresh, and he was ravenous. He packed it in while Katie argued with the other men about eating. Hale began to retch and McCarty started whimpering. Eddie sighed and clenched his jaw. He finished his mouthful, gobbled up the last bit of his sausage, rose, and covered his tray. He stomped over to the nurse, who was sitting between Hale and McCarty's beds.
"Just try a little sip," she pleaded with McCarty. Eddie snapped his fingers loudly.
"Stand aside, Nurse. And don't you dare take anyone's tray away. Especially mine."
"Yes, sir," Katie scrambled out of the chair. Eddie took her place.
"Hale," he barked. Both men quieted. "I'm eating my breakfast and you're putting the kybosh on my appetite. I can't eat with all that fuss. What were we talking about?"
"Guilt?" he murmured.
McCarty just lay there, unable to move. It fucking killed Eddie to know the former strongman was so weak and broken. Did the man even weigh as much as Bella? Eddie gritted his teeth and glared at Jasper.
"And what did you tell me about being self-indulgent?"
"That you…shouldn't feel guilty for following orders."
"And were you and Cap following orders when you got trapped behind the Re-entrant?"
"Well, yeah."
"What did I tell you?"
"That… I did what I had to do."
"Yes. And now, you're going to do what you have to do again, so your poor mother doesn't lose you." Eddie half-turned in his chair. "Katie, where's the tray?"
"Right here. It has lovely chips and—"
"They gave him a full breakfast? And the doctor thinks we're mad?"
"Erm…"
"Put the eggs and chips on my plate. And the banger, if there is one. I want everything off Hale's tray but toast and tea. Give him the rest of my toast. And put sugar in the tea."
"Yes, Lieutenant."
While she arranged Hale's breakfast, Eddie got his hand under Hale's upper arm and helped him to sit up.
"Are you really going to eat all that?" Hale asked.
"It's a sin to waste food. Besides, I've missed enough meals. I'm ravenous all the time. I don't know how you two could do it for so long."
"You get used to it." (iv)
"You're not used to it, or you wouldn't get your wind up every time food was offered."
Katie set Hale's tray on his lap. Hale didn't move to take any toast. "Let me help you," Katie said.
"No," Eddie said. "He can do it himself."
"But… he shakes."
"If I'm blind and I can feed and dress myself, then this sap can hold a piece of toast. Now, Nurse, you'd better not be telling me that McCarty's tray has a full English breakfast on it, or I'll pitch a fit."
Katie took the lid off the tray. "No. It's just broth and some tea."
"Good. Give it here." Eddie took the tray on his lap. "Thank you. You're dismissed."
"I'm…?"
"Thank you, we can manage."
"Erm… Right." Katie's boots clicked on the floor. When she was gone, Eddie leaned toward McCarty—so close, he could see him almost clearly.
"Do you know what happened on the first day in Beaumont-Hamel, at the Somme?" he asked quietly.
McCarty shook his head.
"I remembered. All of it. Now I see it whenever I close my eyes."
McCarty blinked as if to confirm he had the same problem.
"Our manner of warfare is obsolete. Trench fighting's no good against whizzbangs and machine guns. Fucking Krauts have got heavy artillery now, as well."
A spark of agreement entered the captain's eyes.
"The Tommies had fought them for a week, and then it got quiet. Nothing from their side. Our Brass got complacent. They suspected the Tommies had killed all the Krauts so they ordered us to take the enemy trenches. Just in case, they set eleven huge bombs all the way down the line. The second biggest bomb was placed at Beaumont-Hamel, at the Hawthorn Ridge Redoubt. (v) My sappers tunnelled more than a mile toward the enemy lines and placed forty-five tonnes of explosive—if you can credit it. The smoke went for miles when it blew. Shook our trenches, it was so huge."
McCarty nodded but grimaced.
"I know. The men all laughed and cheered when it went off but my sappers and I were worried. My boys and I set a bunch of small mines to be used against an assault, just in case. But what actually happened with the big bombs was this: one of the British commanders got too full of himself. All the bombs were supposed to go off at 07:28 but the fucker thought he could help the other divisions more by taking hold of the Ridge first. The First Wave of Tommies was supposed to go over the top as soon as the Hawthorn bomb went off but the rest of the fucking Brass—all down the line—hesitated. The ten big bombs went up eight minutes after the Hawthorn, but the Brass didn't send the Tommies over for ten minutes after the Hawthorn and that gave the Krauts just enough notice to move and load their heavy artillery. The fucking Krauts were hiding in their bunkers the whole time to fool us. And when the First Wave went over the top, the bastards mowed them down with machine guns and whizzbangs. And you know what happened next?"
McCarty shook his head, his eyes full of dread.
"Our goddamned Upper Brass was determined to take the trenches at any cost, so they sent the next troop over. And the next. And the next. It was the most senseless thing I've ever seen. Line after line after line of men was just fucking extinguished. (vi) There was a very tall fellow—a terrific soldier—who refused to budge and his commanding officer shot him in the head for treason to set an example. (vii) Seemed a pretty effective way to prevent a retreat. It certainly worked for me.
"The Newfoundland Regiment was to be the Third Wave. My platoon was to go over at the end of it. St. John's Road was so narrow that we had to go single file. (viii) By the time we reached the front of the communications trenches, they were so full of dead men that the Second Wave men were climbing out early in order to gain ground. That's when we discovered our own barbed wire hadn't been cut and our boys were getting caught in it. It was ridiculous."
McCarty blew out his breath.
"All I could think of was my wife. She'd begged me not to go to Gallipoli and I made it through the flood just to end up facing Lewis G. Everyone was terrified. Some of the men were resigned, and some of them huddled in the muck. Some of them shit themselves. Some of them wept and some of them clutched each other. I even saw a pair of men kiss like lovers. And Captain Stewart didn't say a word, because we all knew it was goodbye." Eddie could see it clear as day. "I watched Cap Stewart go over the top with his platoon. They didn't get fifty feet…
"I don't know why I betrayed my boys by taking them over. My job was to keep those men alive. Part of me just wanted it to end, I suppose. I reminded my boys where the mines were, and I prayed with them, and when Lefty blew the whistle, I led them over the top. We found a gap in the wire and I called my boys through. Most of us got pretty far compared to the others because I had them keep low, dodge and weave. I was yelling at Dildo, because the idiot ran straight for the closest landmine. I chased after him, cursing like the devil. He turned to face me and stomped on it. His smile is the last thing I remember. That creepy shell shock smile, you know?"
Cap nodded.
"He became shrapnel, see? And now, I'm the dildo. Ironic."
Cap McCarty touched Eddie's hand sympathetically.
"So, Cap, do you know how many men survived out of my regiment, the Blue Puttees?"
Cap shook his head.
"Twelve. Bella told me. And because I lost my hearing temporarily, I didn't find out until September sixteenth. All my own boys went west. I haven't even written to my mother or to the families of any of my men. That's how much of a goldbrick I am. And my entire army is dead (ix)."
"My men are dead," McCarty said.
"You have two men right here, and we need you. So you'd better bloody-well start to take care of us." Eddie picked up the tablespoon, dipped it in the broth, and held it up.
McCarty leaned forward, bit the spoon, and swallowed.
︻┳═一
Isobel stood outside the shop and gnawed on her lip. It had been many years since she'd bought a gown. She knew she ought to write to her aunt and ask her to post some of her things, but they were all desperately out of style and Isobel dearly wanted the summer dress in the shop window. The dress that wasn't the least bit practical and now off-season. And if she bought it, even though it was marked down, she'd need new undergarments, too. And shoes. Pretty shoes, not the tan boots she wore for nursing. And possibly a new shawl.
It wasn't as if she couldn't spare the money, but…
It was lace. A bone-coloured cotton batiste, with a floral pattern around the middle, the cuffs and the hem of the skirt. It was a bit blousy on top and the full, Three-quarter length skirt curled inward slightly, like an inverted wine goblet. With the right ribbon sash, it would convert from daytime to evening. She could imagine the look on Eddie's face if she wore it for him. And he would enjoy the feel of the soft cotton. His fingers would explore.
Isobel blushed but held her head up. She would need new silk stockings, too.
︻┳═一
She left the shop in a daze, wondering how she could be so daring. Well, she had gone to war and nobody in her acquaintance had approved of that. And the women who had remained at home wore all manner of strange outfits. Those who did the heavy jobs actually wore trousers, and special costumes were now available for motoring, golfing, cycling, tennis and rinking. (x) Not to mention that the new ladies' swimming attire was designed so one could actually swim in it.
She had purchased one. A swimming costume. It was black, of one piece that would cover her from chest to mid-thigh, and would cling to her form. Just thinking about wearing it made her blush. (xi)
Her packages were heavy so she called out to a young lad, who agreed to carry them to her lodgings for a haypenny. (xii)
According to the saleslady, aside from military-style fashions, the lingerie dress was all the rage with young ladies. Not that Isobel had ever been a fashionable young lady. Indeed, her aunt was always chastising her for her lack of style. But the dress was wonderfully lightweight and promised to be liberating.
It was of course a few inches shorter than anything she had ever owned. Its silhouette was slimmer than her nursing uniform, yet not restrictive. And the garment wasn't lined. Instead, her pretty new blush pink camisole and slip would show through. Besides that, the corset was significantly… less cumbersome.
The saleslady told her that doctors now suspected the old-fashioned corsets were bad for a woman's health. With the new corset, Isobel's figure would change utterly.
If Isobel wanted to alter the appearance of the dress, she need only purchase a new camisole and petticoat in a different colour. For that reason, she had justified the expense.
She reached the boarding house and the boy set down her shopping next to her door. Mrs. Biggins popped her head out of her flat and called up the stairs. "Hello, my dear. You're home early. Is everything all right?"
Isobel handed the boy his haypenny.
"Ta very much!" He tipped his hat and rushed downstairs.
Isobel unlocked her door and called over her shoulder to Mrs. Biggins. "Matron gave me a week's leave so I can look after Eddie."
"How is he? Is he in better spirits?"
"He's verra much improved. We had a lovely visit with two of his friends last night."
"Oh, that's good to hear. Do you think he'll want more visitors?"
"I expect so. It's rather a sad place. I shall ask him when ye may come."
"Mr. Biggins and I should like to see him."
"He wants tae come home."
"Good!"
Isobel hugged herself. "Mrs. Biggins?"
"Yes?"
She ducked her head. "I… I dinnae ken what I was thinking, but I bought myself a new dress."
Mrs. Biggins' brow furrowed. "Can you not afford it?"
Isobel shifted from one foot to the other. "I can, but—"
"What is the issue then, my dear?"
"My auntie and my mam would find it… scandalous." She chanced a look at her landlady. "It's one of thae new summer dresses."
Mrs. Biggins pursed her lips thoughtfully. "I've heard they're much more comfortable when it's hot, but the weather will soon grow chill. Will your husband disapprove?"
That possibility had never occurred to Isobel. Perhaps Eddie wouldn't want her going about town in it. Isobel clasped her hands together and tried not to wring them. "I dinnae ken."
Mrs. Biggins smiled kindly. "Go and put it on and I shall give you my opinion."
"Thank ye, ma'am."
︻┳═一
"Ooh, that's lovely, that is," Mrs. Biggins bade Isobel to twirl. "You'll get a bit of wear out of it before the weather grows cold, and then you can use a darker lining under it for evenings and wear a shawl."
"I bought a new shawl, too."
"Cashmere?"
"No, just cotton with a fringe." Isobel unfurled the large rectangle and held it up. The background was sky blue, the fringe was forest green and the shawl was covered with large pink cabbage roses.
"Will he be able to see this?"
"I hope so."
"You look charming. It's sure to put some heart in him."
"Do ye think so?"
"Indeed. You must tell me what happens when he sees you."
"He's never seen me in civilian clothes before."
"Then he shall surely think you a lovely bride. Will you have a bit of tea and toast with melted cheese before you go?"
"Oh, that sounds a treat."
︻┳═一
"Katie, do ye know where Eddie is?"
The nurse clasped her hands and beamed. "Oh, Bella. What a pretty dress!"
Isobel smoothed down her skirt. "Thank you."
"Eddie's down in the lounge with his mates."
"His mates? He knows people here?" Isobel silently thanked God.
"The officers sharing his room. Hale and McCarty. Evidently, they served together in Ypres."
How wonderful. "Yes, in Canada's First Division. He's written to me about them before. I wondered why he had roommates."
Katie nodded energetically. "Eddie's so much improved today that he's helping his friends to feel better, too. They've been together all morning. The doctor is thrilled."
"Really? Thank God."
"Yes. Before you go down, brace yourself. Hale and McCarty are in far worse shape than Eddie."
Isobel felt her forehead crease. "They won't die, will they?"
"No. Not if they can get past the horrors."
That sounded ominous. "All right. I'll see you later."
"Good day!"
Isobel gripped the railing firmly and clacked down the stairs in her new blue pumps. Since coming out at sixteen, she'd rarely had occasion to wear such insensible shoes. She crossed the tile floor to the lounge's door, peeked through the window and stopped. The air was hazy with smoke and she could faintly smell burning leaves.
"Oh, bother." She braced herself and entered. The odour of cannabis overpowered her. There were at least twenty uniformed men present, most of them smoking.
Eddie was not smoking. He was sitting, dressed in his shirt, suspenders and trews, with his arms around two emaciated officers, with his eyes closed, his legs stretched out but relaxed, and his head lolling against the high back of the sofa. An empty wheelchair sat next to the trio. Both of his companions –their heads resting on his shoulders—were bracing burning cannabis cigarettes perilously close to their laps. They were pretty out of it. How high was Eddie?
"It's a Gibson Girl!" one of the men across the room exclaimed, pointing at Isobel. The blond, wavy-haired man on Eddie's right opened black, sleepy eyes and blinked at her. His left eye drifted shut again. Part of the left side of his face was gone and he was horrifically scarred.
"Holy cow," he said, and gave Eddie a nudge. "Hey, Mace, have we gone west?"
"Can't be dead," the older man with curly dark hair grumbled. "I can still see your pug-ugly mush." He raised his cigarette, drew on it, and exhaled his smoke right in Eddie's face. Eddie opened his eyes, which were entirely black, the right pupil marred into an irregular shape. He frowned at Isobel even though she was standing right at his feet. He tilted his head slightly to the right and stared at her with his better eye. Both eyes began to smoulder.
"Bella?" he purred.
"Hello, sweetheart."
"You're not wearing your uniform."
"No."
"I'm not hallucinating, am I?"
"No."
He didn't attempt to straighten up. He patted the blond man on the good side of his face. "This is PBI Jasper Hale, from Hamilton, Ontario."
The man gave her a sloppy salute with his cigarette. "Hey, gorgeous."
"Ensign."
Eddie patted the other man. "And this is Cap Emmett McCarty. Where you from, Cap?"
"Trana."
"Toronto. Fancy that." Eddie gave the Captain's shoulder a bit of a shake.
McCarty extended his hand. "Enchanté."
"Captain."
The Captain kept hold of her hand. Isobel was starting to feel a wee bit strange. Floaty.
"Man, Mace, you are the goopiest (xiii) dildo I've ever met," Hale said. "Why the hell did you try to off yourself?"
"Moment of insanity, Jazz."
"Got that right."
"Dildo's in my eyes so I can't see my wife."
"I'll look at her for ya."
Eddie snorted and flicked Ensign Hale on the ear.
"Eddie's my son now," McCarty told Isobel. "He needs somebody to teach him common sense." He swung her hand to and fro, and then released it.
Eddie rolled his eyes. "Hah! This from the man who starved himself for nearly a month?"
"I could eat," Hale said.
"Some bread would be nice," McCarty said.
"Okay." Eddie placed his hands on top of the men's heads and lurched to his feet. "I'll go recon some food. There must be a kitchen… somewhere in this mausoleum."
"Food for all of us!" one of the men bellowed.
"Hear, hear!" the group of men answered.
"Good boy." McCarty stared at Eddie. "He's gonna go far."
Hale nodded. "Yeah."
Eddie clasped Isobel's arm and stepped gingerly toward the door as if he didn't know where to find the floor. They left the room and Isobel shut the door. Wisps of smoke seeped out around the edges, and then dissipated. Eddie took a deep breath of the clear air and ended up with his face pressed in the crook of her neck.
"Mmm… You smell good."
She could feel him, hard against her thigh. She wanted to crawl inside his shirt with him. "Thank you."
"They didn't tell me they were gonna get us inebriated."
Isobel couldn't quite understand what Eddie was talking about or why it mattered. "Who?"
"Katie. And Doc Whosisname."
"Harris?"
"Yeah, him." Eddie peered around at the empty lobby, took a deep breath and bellowed, "Nurse?" making Isobel jump. One of the yeomen came running.
"Lieutenant, you should be in the lounge."
"Nah, going with my Bella. My wife, see?"
She bobbed her head and grinned. "Hello."
"McCarty and Hale want food. All the poor bloody inebriates are… hungry."
The yeoman's jaw dropped and then she smiled from ear-to-ear. "I'll see they're given something."
"McCarty wants bread."
"Thank you!" The yeoman ran away at an indecent speed.
"What's all that about?" Isobel wondered aloud.
"They wouldn't eat," Eddie said blithely. "Starved themselves for weeks. Jazz tried a few times but he just hacked it back up. Cap wouldn't eat at all."
"Why?"
"Crowley went west and they ate him."
Her eyes flared wide. "Dear lord."
"I guess there are worse things than being blown up. I fancy a walk. Take me out to the park?"
"That would be grand. I need tae clear my head."
Eddie giggled like a loon. The main door opened, just as they reached it, and he hopped back a step.
"What's sae funny?"
"Not many clear heads here."
"True."
"Ah, Lieutenant," Dr. Harris said, removing his hat. "How are you today?"
Eddie grinned lopsidedly. "High."
"Yes, hello. How are you feeling?"
"I dunno, odd. I'm high. Been squashed up on the chesterfield (xiv) all morning with the cuddly Canadians. I need some air."
Dr. Harris' nostrils quivered and he raised a brow. "I see. Lovely day for a walk. You have half an hour before dinner."
"Perfect. Goodbye."
Isobel hummed a laugh. "Do ye need yer cane, husband?"
"Nah. I've got you." Somehow, they managed to weave their way down the steps and onto the path around the hospital that led to the garden, which was heavily treed and green with moss. Fragrant late roses and decaying peonies sprawled onto the path, which was restful and dim.
"I swear I just saw the White Rabbit." Isobel peered under the greenery.
"As long as it wasn't the Red Queen. (xv) Enough men have lost their heads. Is there a bench anywhere?" Eddie put his hand on the small of her back. She felt wonderfully safe for the first time in days.
"I havnae seen one so far." It was quite a while before they came across one, almost hidden in a leafy bower.
"Ah, here's a bench, Eddie."
"Excellent. I want a gander (xvi) at you while you're all dolled-up."
"Eddie…"
"All I want is a squiz." He felt his way over to the cold stone bench and sat, pulling Isobel to stand between his knees. "Is anyone around?"
Isobel looked up and down the hedge. "I dinnae think so."
"I can't hear anyone." His fingers skimmed over the lace on her hips. He ran his hands all over her and his breath picked up. He worked his fingertip through a gap in the lace and felt her pink underthings. "What is this?"
"Petticoat and chemise."
"Silk. What's under them?"
"Nothing."
"Mmm. Corset?"
Eddie's palms were warm as they travelled over her. Her body was warm so she spread her legs so wide they touched his knees. "I didnae wear it."
He gaped at her. "Is it my birthday?"
"Day after tomorrow."
He reached for the hem of her dress and began to collect the lace in his hands. "Happy birthday to me."
"Eddie, ye'll—"
"Hush! I'm opening my present." He pushed the gathered skirt against her waist and she automatically clutched it. "What a wonderful colour. Like your backside after a good squeeze."
Isobel knew she ought to be offended. She had obviously spent too much time in the army because Eddie's directness appealed to her. He hooked his hand under her slip and placed it between her legs. Isobel bit her lip to keep from crying out as he stroked her.
"So wet for me, Bella. I want you. Now."
She rested his forehead against his. "God, Eddie, please."
He popped the buttons on his trousers, freed himself, and lifted the light petticoat. With one hand, he held himself steady. With the other, he supported her while she straddled his legs and sank down onto him. They moaned as their flesh met. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he hugged her tightly around the middle.
"I love your passion," he growled in her ear. "I'm so glad you're not cold."
"I dinnae shock ye, then?"
Eddie laughed softly. "You often surprise me. It's wonderful." He rocked her, whispering shocking praise in her ear, until they had to cling harder, and when it all became too much, she threw back her head and gasped. He bit her chin. As she convulsed around him, he clenched his jaw and arched up, spilling inside her with a strangled cry.
Chests heaving, they embraced ear-to-ear. She rested her chin on his shoulder and he placed his hand gently on the back of her head.
"I'm sorry for what I did, Isobel."
"Dinnae ever do it again, Eddie."
Somewhere in the garden, a bird sang cheerily. "I must figure out what I'm meant to do with my life now."
He kissed her ear, her cheek and jaw. Then, with a sigh, Eddie nudged her to get up, and buttoned his trousers. Isobel let her skirts fall and smoothed them straight. She settled beside him on the bench and he interlocked their fingers. They sat together quietly.
"Is that an English robin?" he asked after some minutes.
"Yes." It was a lovely sound, made more special by the fact that at the moment, no sounds of bombs were being carried to them on the wind.
"Our robins aren't like them. They're big and their breasts are dark orange. The song isn't the same."
"Oh?"
"I miss home."
"Newfoundland?"
"No. Our lodgings. They smell like clean linen, violets and wood polish. And good, strong tea. And you. And wholesome cooking."
"I miss having ye there. So do the Bigginses. And Private Barker lies by the door and waits for ye."
"He'll be missing his ice lolly."
Isobel laughed. "Yes."
"Can you bring him tomorrow?"
"I'll have to ask if it's allowed. Some of the men…"
"I know. This can be a dark place. Practically all of them are scared, but the ones who are really frightening are the few who aren't afraid."
"What about your friends?"
He pressed his lips together and angled his face away. "They have to live."
"I know, love."
"I've lost…" He cleared his throat. "Newfoundland has lost an entire generation of men."
"I'm sae sorry."
"Why did it happen?"
She squeezed his hand but did not attempt to answer.
"Why did I live, Bella? Why me? Why?" His voice cracked.
"I dinnae ken, darling. But I prayed ye would come home tae me. When Colonel Cullen told me ye'd been found, I knew it was a miracle and I praised God."
"You did?"
"When are ye going tae stop thinking I don't want ye?"
"I don't know. If I could provide for you…"
"Ye will."
"Hey, Mace!" somebody yelled. Eddie sighed and squeezed Isobel's fingers.
"Over here, Jazz," Eddie called. Hale came bouncing down the path. Isobel recognized his dancing gait as a symptom of shell shock. (xvii)
"You missed the show! Cap got down half a piece of toast and a whole bowl of vegetable soup."
"That's marvelous. And what did you keep down?"
Hale's chest puffed up. "A whole piece of toast and a bowl of soup. And four saltines."
"Ah, you beat him, eh?"
He beamed. "Not gonna let him live it down, either."
"Good. That's good."
"I took a tray up to the room for you. Cap's guarding it so the nurses don't take it away."
"Well," Eddie stood up and tugged Isobel to her feet. "We'd best go up then, hadn't we, Jazz?"
"Yes, sir!"
People began to exit the building for post-dinner constitutionals. Eddie kept hold of Isobel's hand as they walked down the path to join Hale and she was acutely aware that it was the first time they'd held hands in front of anyone since their wedding. She was surprised when the ensign threw his arm around her husband's shoulders, but even more surprised when Eddie drew her close, kissed her in public, and put an arm around each of them. Hale's entire arm rested against hers.
It seemed to take the giggling trio an inordinately long time to get all the way up to the room arm-in-arm, but if anyone questioned the propriety of it, they never said.
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i The Tillings Company had a set of motorized public coach buses that was established in London in 1904. They had expanded into neighbouring markets by the 1910s and established a motorbus service in Brighton in 1916. The buses were green with yellow lettering on the sides. A yellow placard in the window named the route.
ii Mufties: British trench slang since 1816 for civvies (civilian clothes). The term comes from the Arabic Mufti (Islamic scholars). Off-duty British officers in India wore long dressing gowns with tasseled caps similar to what the Mufti wore. They brought the term home, where it was applied to clothing such as dressing gowns, pyjamas and slippers. Eventually, all civilian clothing worn by military men earned the appellation.
iii Men typically signed up to serve in the military for seven years or 'until the end of the war,' whichever was shorter. Nobody expected the war to last past Christmas of 1914, so the boys didn't really understand what they were getting into. By 1917, men were being drafted into the allied armies.
iv One third of all Commonwealth soldiers displayed symptoms of long term malnutrition when they enlisted. Military personnel were generally well-fed. If most PBIs didn't eat well in the army, it must be said that the majority weren't eating any worse.
v The Hawthorn Ridge Redoubt was a high spot covered in Hawthorn trees, situated between the enemy (which faced west) and the allies (who faced east). The Commonwealth Upper Brass decided to blow the ridge up with Ammonal—simultaneously with ten other strategic points down the length of the no man's land—close to the German front lines on the River Somme. Had the group of eleven bombs gone off as planned at 07:28AM, the Commonwealth men would have all attacked at once, two minutes later, and they would have had the upper hand over an army of very surprised Germans.
Instead, Lieutenant-General Hunter-Weston's decision to bypass the plan and detonate the Hawthorn Bomb at Beaumont-Hamel at 07:20AM (which was vociferously contested by his officers) gave the Germans ample warning, not only about where the attack would come from, but when. The other ten mega bombs went off as planned at 07:28AM and all the commanders sent the First Wave over as planned, two minutes later. The Commonwealth fusiliers were promptly annihilated.
The Hawthorn Bomb left a crater 140 metres long, 90 metres wide and 25 metres deep. Not only was it impossible to cross, it flattened the landscape between Beaumont-Hamel and the enemy front lines, leaving the Commonwealth soldiers exposed. The Germans simply picked the men off from higher ground.
The men picked off during the First and Second Wave fell into the communications trenches, blocking the way for the troops behind them, who therefore exited the trenches early and were exposed to the enemy earlier than planned. In addition, nobody had cut the barbed wire and in the smoke, the men couldn't find the gaps so many got caught up in it and were then shot.
The entire account of this story has me in tears every time I think about it. I have pictures on Facebook of the Ridge, the bomb before it went off, the explosion, the subsequent crater, men in one of the trenches, and the landscape today.
As an interesting side note, the crown of thorns worn by Jesus at the crucifixion was made of hawthorn twigs.
The Hawthorn Crater became a mass grave for all those who died on July 1, 1916 at Beaumont-Hamel: an estimated 66, 000 Commonwealth soldiers and 50, 000 Huns. It was so full of bodies that there is barely a dip in the landscape now. Today, the Newfoundland Memorial Park sits just south of the site.
vi Estimated Casualties between July 1 and November 16, 1916 in the Somme: UK 350, 000; Canada 24, 029; Australia 23,000; New Zealand 7, 408; South Africa 3,000; Newfoundland 2, 000.Total British Commonwealth: 419,654 casualties, 95,675 killed and missing-presumed-dead.
PLUS French: 204,253 casualties, 50,576 killed and missing-presumed-dead.
Total Allied (Commonwealth and French): 623,907 casualties, 146,431 killed and missing-presumed-dead, approximately 200 POW.
Germany: 465,000 casualties, 164,055 killed and missing-presumed-dead, 8,000 POW.
vii As soldiers succumbed more and more often to shell shock and terror, officers were forced to terminate them immediately so they didn't interfere with the campaigns. Widows would receive notice that those men were executed as cowards and they would not be receiving any pension. Yes, even at Beaumont-Hamel, men who refused to go over the top were executed. One wonders if those soldiers received dishonourable discharges, considering there weren't many officers left to report them.
viii St. John's Road: each trench was given a street name to make locating it simpler. There's a picture of the Newfoundlanders in St. John's Road on my Facebook.
ix The entire Newfoundland army was not dead, but Eddie wouldn't know that. The First Newfoundland Regiment (1915), also known as the Blue Puttees, was joined by 500 more men in the spring of 1916 and together they became the Second Newfoundland Regiment (approximately 800 of whom fought at Beaumont-Hamel).
Newfoundland Regiment Casualties after the first 30 minutes of the assault totalled 689 men:
Killed: 11 officers and 66 other ranks; Wounded 12 officers, 362 other ranks; Died of Wounds 2 officers, 21 other ranks; Missing and Believed Dead 1 officer, 209 other ranks.
At roll call the following day, 61 Newfoundlanders answered, including twelve Blue Puttees, and seven more Newfoundlanders who could not speak were found and rescued. As soon as news of the massacre reached Newfoundland—that only 68 of 800 soldiers left the battlefield alive, 1500 angry young men enlisted. The new Royal Newfoundland Regiment reached the Somme only six weeks after the massacre. txtpat/?id=67
x Rinking: roller skating
xi The first woman to wear a black one piece swimsuit was Australian professional swimmer Annette Kellerman in 1907. She was arrested at Revere Beach, Massachusetts, for indecent exposure. Not long after, she released a fashionable line of similar swimwear and it became immensely popular. Later, she starred in several swimming-themed movies.
xii Haypenny: half a penny. There were 24 haypennies in one shilling, and twelve shillings in a pound.
xiii Goopy: stupid or foolish. A goop: a stupid person.
xiv Chesterfield: an uncommonly-used British name for a couch that became the chief name for a couch in Canada up until about thirty years ago. Now, couches are usually called sofas in Britain, and couches in Canada and the US.
xv One of my family's heirlooms is a 1906 edition of Alice in Wonderland that belonged to my grandmother. It is very tiny and has a paper cover. The text is also tiny, but it's full of beautiful, colour illustrations.
xvi Gander: a good look
xvii Shell shock: beginning in 1914, men began to succumb to shell shock in droves and nobody knew how to cure them. Oddly, almost none of the victims were in any proximity to shelling when they acquired the condition. Symptoms could include loss of speech, hearing or vision, or an inability to walk including spastic muscles, odd gaits, nervous ticks and involuntary utterances. The two consistent symptoms were terror and shock. Men who got it became completely useless in battle. As they often improved when removed from the front line, the Brass considered them malingerers and cowards. By 1916, it was recognized that most of the shell shock victims were not faking their symptoms but nobody could figure out how to treat it. Various methods were tried, including electro shock therapy, hypnosis and forced walking, with some degree of success. Shell shock was not curable until 1919, when it was discovered that if men were able to confront and discuss their fears and their war experiences, their symptoms would ease. After the war, many sufferers returned to the sites of battles and visited memorials, and found they stopped having symptoms once they'd made peace with the past.
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Shameless Self-Plug:
Praise for Moms on Missions, 100% 5 star ratings, now available on Kindle and KU:
Hats off to Ms. Brown for her debut novel and doing such a spectacular job on warming the readers' hearts!~ Star Angels Reviews
Moms on Missions is the first novel in Jess Molly Brown's Mommageddon Series, and it's an absolute doozy of a debut. Author Brown is a master at writing situational comedy and in her skilled hands, Vince, Dani, the MOMS, as well as an expansive cast of characters will have the reader howling with laughter.
Written with the perfect mix of heat and tenderness, and with Niagara Falls as a backdrop, the romance between Vince and Dani left this reader in a state of giddy delight. Both of these characters are likeable and well crafted. The MOM cast of characters are believable and not cliché. (Although this reader did have great issue with the flying tureen of wedding soup.) ~Vagabonda Reads