In Distant Fields (41 page)

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Authors: Charlotte Bingham

Tags: #Chick-Lit, #Fiction, #Friendship, #Love Stories, #Relationships, #Romance, #Women's Fiction

BOOK: In Distant Fields
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‘Of course I do! I love him with all my heart, he is the best and kindest of men, and today I was to marry him.'

Partita shrugged and regarded Kitty a while. ‘Not necessarily one and the same thing, Kitty – love and marriage. Except I've seen the way you look at Al, and I think I know the way you feel.'

‘I hope you do, truly I do.'

‘Maybe.' Partita kept looking at Kitty and waiting. ‘Look, Kitty,' she continued, ‘let's try and put it this way, shall we? This was meant to be your wedding day and this was meant to be your wedding night – and to all intents and purposes that's just what it is. Al's going back tomorrow, first thing – and you heard what he
had to say. He said he wouldn't ask for any favours, so it's only fair on him – and on you – I mean it's only fair all round if you – if you do what you were going to do anyway.'

Now it was Kitty's turn to stare at her friend in silence.

‘You mean? You can't mean …' She petered out into a bewildered silence, still looking at Partita.

‘Oh, don't be so – so old-
fashioned
, Kitty! You're a woman, in love with a man – a man who has to go back to the fighting. He might not come back at all, Kitty – and this is the twentieth century, not the Dark Ages! You must follow your heart, not your head! You don't have to slink off to that hotel – you can stay here! No one will know – least of all Mamma and Papa – and even if they did I dare say they would be the first to understand.'

‘You're the one who doesn't understand, Tita,' Kitty replied quietly, turning away and walking further down the terrace to prevent Partita from trying to read her thoughts, something she knew Partita was particularly good at doing. ‘I'm not like that. I couldn't. I'm just not like that.'

‘How do you know until you've tried?' Partita insisted, following Kitty closely. ‘Be sensible, Kitty this isn't the time for any old – fashioned morality and all that fandango. You might never see Almeric again. Think of that – never, ever, ever.'

‘I know!' Kitty rounded on Partita, suddenly hurt, not just by Partita's suggestion. ‘You've just
said I'm not stupid and I'm not! But this wouldn't be right – it just wouldn't! And because it isn't right, or proper, I can't. It wouldn't be right and so it wouldn't feel right – and it might ruin it! It might spoil everything!'

‘I don't know what you're talking about. The way we were brought up – that doesn't mean anything now, not now we could all be killed tomorrow. Not just Almeric and Gus and Peregrine and Pug and everyone – but all of us. We could be in London and they could drop bombs on us! They're dropping bombs on Paris all the time and Papa said London is shrouded in complete darkness every evening in case of Zeppelins – so what does all the stuff we were taught to believe, what does it all
mean
? You heard Almeric. The Germans are gassing our soldiers! They're using poison gas – so what on earth are they going to stop at? Nothing! You have to! You have to
be
with Almeric before he leaves. You might not ever have the chance again.'

‘Tita,' Kitty took Partita's hands, seeing how close she was to tears. ‘Tita, I know what you mean just as I know how well you mean it. No one could have a better friend in the world than you, and normally I would listen to you and probably take your advice, but not on this occasion. I couldn't – I couldn't be with Almeric tonight because it wouldn't be right, for
me
.'

‘I know, I know,' Partita said, turning away in despair.

‘I'm sure Almeric feels the same.'

‘Have you asked him?'

‘Of course not. How could I?'

‘You could ask him. I think you owe him that.'

‘Now you're the one who's being stupid, Tita.'

‘Don't speak to me like that.'

‘I'll talk to you any way I please. This is something between Almeric and me – it has nothing to do with you.'

‘He's my brother!'

‘He's my fiancé.'

The gong sounded for lunch but they were going inside anyway, their argument done. Kitty knew Partita was right, but that what she proposed was wrong, while Partita knew that Kitty was wrong while what she believed was right.

Yet it was all academic because Almeric and Kitty never discussed it between themselves, even though they both knew exactly what each other was thinking. Instead – with Kitty having been excused all her duties for her wedding day – they spent the afternoon going for another of their long walks where they once again discussed everything – poetry, horses, friendship, anything and everything – except Almeric's return to war and the matter of their cancelled wedding night.

They had long conversations about their friends, they talked about the patients, they talked about the beauty of spring and the state of the gardens. They worried about the Duke and Duchess growing ever more short-handed as
more and more people on the estate and in the house left to go to work in the factories. They even talked about the afterlife, and whether or not there might be one and if so, what it might be like. But it was a very abstract discussion, because neither of them really knew quite what to think.

In the evening they all had dinner together in the family dining room, the rest of the family retiring early so that at least Almeric and Kitty could have a little time alone together, leaving them sitting on the floor by a log fire in the library, the dogs curled up beside them.

Here again they talked into the small hours, sitting opposite each other at first, but ending up with Kitty leaning against Almeric, her head on his shoulder while they fell to silence, Kitty knowing that he would be gone in a few hours, and Almeric staring into the flames, watching as the life of the fire died and its warmth faded.

‘Kitty,' Almeric said finally, when they had turned to each other and kissed passionately and in Almeric's case most longingly. ‘Kitty, I'm not being presumptuous when I say this, only honest. I know what you're feeling – at least I think I do because that's what I'm feeling too. That bit's pretty obvious.' He took her hands and looked deep into her eyes. ‘You know how I feel. This was to have been our wedding night.'

‘I know, Al. And of course I feel the same as you – you know I do.'

‘I want this more than anything in the world, Kitty. I promise you I do.'

‘I want this too, Almeric, my darling. I promise as well.'

Yet she knew what he was going to say because it was what she herself was feeling. Had it been otherwise, by now he would have swept her up in his arms and carried her upstairs. If he had, she knew she would not have resisted or forbidden him, but simply have given herself to him, and tomorrow – in fact what was no longer tomorrow but today – in a few hours' time he would be putting on his captain's uniform and going back to war. But he had not. Instead he was standing with her still in his arms, talking to her and explaining why they mustn't, and she was listening to him and agreeing with him.

‘We mustn't, my darling, not because it is wrong but because we feel it might be,' he was saying to her. ‘And if that is really so, if that is what we both feel, then we must wait. It doesn't make any difference to the way we feel about each other, does it?'

‘No,' Kitty replied quietly. ‘Not a bit. Not even the tiniest bit.'

‘And it will be something we can look forward to – on my next leave. When I'm gone you make absolutely sure that there are no more – sorry, I nearly got a bit military there.' He stopped and started again. ‘You can make sure that all the arrangements are in place and if I can get a long enough leave then we can even motor off somewhere and stay there all by ourselves – somewhere really romantic.'

‘Of course, Almeric,' Kitty agreed. ‘I understand absolutely.'

The next morning they took the trap to the Halt and only just caught the train, it being right on time for once, their lateness caused by Trotty having to walk half the journey due to spreading a plate halfway to the station. They barely had time to say goodbye, both of them flying onto the platform as the station-master held the train back for them, seeing them arriving late and hearing Almeric's anxious call. Having found a seat for him, the station-master stood back, holding up his flag in readiness.

‘Goodbye, my darling,' Almeric called above the sound of the engine and the slamming doors. He embraced Kitty, who kissed him back, holding her hat on with one hand. ‘I'll write as soon as I can – take care of yourself.'

‘And you take care of yourself too!' Kitty called back a little hopelessly, as Almeric closed the door, having pulled the window down to lean out and wave his last goodbye.

‘I shall, my sweet!' Almeric laughed as the train began to pull out. ‘I shall keep the old head well down and out of sight! I love you!'

‘And I love you too!' she called, running up the platform after the train, before coming to a halt at the end of the platform as the train drew away, picking up speed, until it turned round the first bend and was gone.

Kitty stood at the end of the platform, looking into space, feeling the emptiness where warmth
had just been and such a feeling of sudden desolation it was all she could do not to break into sobs. Instead she adjusted her hat, tying the bow back under her chin, and made her way to the station yard, wishing the porter and the station-master goodbye and wondering how long it would be before she found herself standing and waiting on the platform once again. And then she picked up Trotty's ribbons and, with a gentle flick of them, walked the pony on up the slight incline that led from the station yard to the road, and back to whatever the future might hold for them all.

There was consternation when Kitty returned to Bauders, some sort of a search party out in the grounds being marshalled by Jossy with some of the older grooms. Curious to see what was happening, Kitty redirected Trotty away from the stable yard to follow the line of men.

‘One of your patients disappeared, Miss Kitty,' Jossy told her. ‘Been told to organise a search of the grounds, like.'

‘Do you know who it is, Jossy?'

‘No idea, miss. Just been told to look for one of the patients – oh, yes!' he called, half turning back. ‘Michael? Would that be right? Answers to the name of Michael. If at all – I gather.'

It seemed Michael's bed had been found to be empty when everyone was getting up.

‘Not that there's anything unusual about that,' Partita told Kitty as she was putting her in
the picture. ‘Lots of them get up early now the weather's so much better and summer's just around the corner. But as you know, Michael is not one of the earliest risers.'

‘And nobody's seen him this morning?'

‘Sight nor sound, Kitty. So Mamma thought it best to organise a search party.'

‘Did anything happen yesterday to upset him, I wonder. It's difficult to know, since we were otherwise engaged, so to speak.'

They went to enquire of one of the nurses who had been on duty the day before, learning that Michael had indeed received a visitor, a doctor who had travelled from London to see him, accompanied by another gentleman. They had asked to be left alone with Michael, which they were, sitting out on the stone terrace while they talked for the best part of an hour.

‘You say talked,' Kitty said. ‘I take it Michael didn't do any of the talking, or weren't you aware of what was going on?'

‘I was busy with my other boys,' Nurse Rose, a pretty little dark-haired Scots girl, replied. ‘Although I did keep an eye on Michael from time to time, knowing how very sensitive he is. He wasn't doing any talking each time I had a peek, certainly not. In fact, he was sitting in his chair with his eyes closed, the way he does; that is his way.'

‘Did you speak to the doctor who came up to see him?' Partita wondered.

‘Oh, of course, Lady T,' Nurse Rose replied.

‘He wanted to speak to us and of course we wanted to speak to him. He told us they were just checking up on his case because he had been so notably and badly traumatised by his – his experience, as they called it.'

‘His experience?' Kitty glanced at Partita.

‘Aye. He said they had to check his progress to see whether or not he could be returned to active service.'

‘They don't usually send someone up from London to do that,' Partita remarked. ‘They leave that to our team here – our doctors' reports. I find that jolly odd.'

‘It was all done properly, Lady T,' Nurse Rose assured her. ‘There's a full report awaiting the Duchess when she's a moment.'

‘There's something happening down by the lake,' Kitty said, interrupting and pointing to the distant activity. ‘They appear to have found something.'

‘Let's hope it is something – rather than somebody,' Partita said, hurrying out.

They had a body on a stretcher, which they were carefully loading onto a long garden handcart, preparatory to bringing it up to the house.

‘Is it Michael?' Kitty asked when she and Partita arrived breathless after their run from the house.

‘Aye,' a soaking wet Jossy said with a grave nod. ‘So they say.'

‘Is he dead, Jossy?' Partita asked, direct as always.

‘Not quite, Lady Tita, I'm happy to say. Got to 'im just in time, it appears.'

‘You got to him, you mean?'

‘Aye, Lady Tita. That's about the size of it. He were in that boat, see?' Jossy gestured to the rowing boat that was still floating halfway across the lake. ‘Couldn't be seen from the house, like, because he'd taken the boat from its mooring where I were fishin' last evening. Must have jumped in straight from the boat.'

‘How did you get to him, Jossy? You swam all that way and still managed to save him?'

‘I can swim a bit, as you know, but he'd gone a couple of times when I got to 'im. One more dip and he'd have 'ad it. He's barely alive as it is.'

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