Evie’s Choice

‘I’ve been thinking,’ he said, and something in his voice made me raise myself onto my elbows again.

‘What? You sound nervous.’

‘Not nervous exactly. It’s just…with what’s probably coming and all, don’t you think –’

‘Yes.’

‘You don’t know what I was going to say!’

‘Yes I do.’ I smiled and sat up all the way, slipping my hand beneath his knee to link my fingers with his, and said it again, slowly. ‘Yes. I do.’

He returned my smile, and the tension left him. ‘Well then, now you’ll have to tell your mother.’

‘No. I mean, yes, I will, but I’m going to tell her afterwards. I can’t give her the slightest opportunity to put a stop to it.’

‘How on earth will you keep it from her? The vicar at Breckenhall is bound to say something.’

‘Then we won’t marry in Breckenhall. We’ll find somewhere further away. I hope Uncle Jack comes home in time, he’d be pleased to give me away.’

‘Even to me?’

‘Especially to you,’ I said. Jack Carlisle would take one look at Will and me together, and not a single question would pass his lips about suitability or income. And if I asked him to leave it to me to tell Mother, he would do it. ‘I’ll find somewhere with a discreet minister, and we can set a date for sometime before Christmas. That’s bound to give us time, and maybe the Kaiser will call off the show and leave Russia alone, and it will all come to nothing.’

But just two days later, on the first day of August, Germany declared war on Russia. The news came over the radio that, in order for them to remove France as a hindrance, they had asked for permission to move their army through Belgium, and, while the world listened with bated breath, Belgium held her ground and refused.

‘But what does that mean?’ Mother fretted. ‘For us?’

‘It means that, if the Kaiser doesn’t withdraw his army, we’re going to have to go in and make him,’ I said. I felt quite sick and, despite my calm words, I was having a great deal of trouble straightening my thoughts to really understand what it all meant.

‘Why do we have to do it?’ She glanced over at Lawrence, and I could see the worry on her face. ‘It’s got nothing to do with us, surely?’

‘Evidently it’s to do with a treaty made back in the 1830s,’ I said, not adding that it was Will who’d told me about it. ‘Perhaps the Germans will withdraw when they realise what they’ve done, and that they can’t win.’

But of course, they hadn’t. Our government sent an ultimatum that was ignored, and by eleven o’clock on the night of the fourth of August, we too were at war.

To begin with, nothing seemed different. The sun still shone; night and day still came and went; people still went to work, only now their expressions slipped too easily from cheerfulness to shadowed fear. But gradually the little changes that were happening all over the country began to make themselves felt in everyday life. Shops closed as their owners answered the call to arms; the government put out a further call, for one hundred thousand volunteers, and Will joined the reserves. I tried to hold on to the common belief that the war would be short-lived, maybe even over before Christmas, but it seemed more and more evident now that this would be a protracted struggle, and that our men were being sent into a special kind of hell; the thought of Will joining them made me break into a cool sweat and pray constantly for the war to end before it was too late.

One afternoon in late August, Will met me at the quarry with an unusually sombre expression, and his face was pale. I saw immediately what he held, and my breathing sharpened into something painful.

‘When?’

‘Tenth of September.’

‘Oh, God. Oh, God, Will…’

He seized me roughly and pulled me to him with a strange, sighing sob. All the enthusiasm when he’d spoken of joining up, of doing his duty, of protecting the innocent, had fled as we held each other, and I felt him shuddering under my fiercely gripping hands. It made the way he finally squared his shoulders and stood straight all the more courageous in my eyes; he was not naïve enough to think he was riding into glory, the shining hero of the tale. He understood some of what he was going into, and he was terrified, but he would still do it.

‘I must marry you before I leave,’ he said, and touched my face. ‘I must.’

I thought quickly. ‘We’ll go to Gretna. Mary will be a witness, and you must find one too.’ I spoke fast, hoping the trembling in my voice wasn’t as obvious to him as it was to me. My mind was not on weddings, though, it was on the letter I’d been mulling over for a week or more, applying for a post with the Red Cross, and I hesitated no longer; if Will was going overseas in defence of another country, I could do no less in defence of his own.

Gretna, Scotland, September 1914.

‘This is Martin Barrow,’ Will said as he drew me into the little sitting room. ‘He’s taking my place as Markham’s apprentice, once … well, once I’ve left.’

‘Very nice to meet you, Martin,’ I said.

He shook my hand, a tall, earnest-looking young man with a friendly face. ‘Miss,’ he said. He glanced at Will, and then back at me, and to my surprise he looked a little shamefaced. ‘I’d have joined up too, if I could,’ he said, and it was only when he limped over to close the sitting room door that I realised why he hadn’t. I wished he didn’t look so guilty over it, but it wasn’t my place to presume how he felt, I might have read him wrong.

I gestured to my own companion. ‘This is Mary Deegan, ,’ I said. ‘I understand you’ll be travelling back to Breckenhall together on the same train.’

The two nodded to each other, and as Mary went over to introduce herself properly, Will slipped his arm around my waist. ‘I can’t believe we’re doing this,’ he said, nuzzling my ear.

‘And I can’t believe I haven’t told Mother,’ I said, and sighed. ‘I know she’ll take it badly but it’s not you, it’s…’

‘It’s what I’m not,’ Will said, but he didn’t sound resentful. ‘Darling, I know all that, let’s not go over the same old ground. Not today.’

‘Come upstairs, Evie,’ Mary said, coming over. She was smiling and I glanced past her at Martin, who was trying to pretend he hadn’t been staring after her. ‘Let’s get you changed.’

I kissed Will lightly, our very last chaste kiss as single people, and followed Mary up the winding hotel staircase to the little room above. I looked at the bed nervously and felt my insides do a slow roll, but there was excitement there too, heightened by the memory of his breath on my skin.

My dress was quite simply cut, but when I’d first tried it on I knew that, of all the glorious and expensive gowns I’d worn in the past, this one was the one I would keep forever. Mary had made it from some ivory lace I had found in Breckenhall market, and since she was the only person, other than Uncle Jack, who I’d told about the marriage, I knew it had been made with pleasure and secrecy, which gave it a feel of something very personal. And tonight I would remove it in front of my husband. That nervous roll came again and I took a deep breath to calm the shaking that had suddenly seized my fingers and knees; would I please him, after all this time of waiting and anticipation?

Mary helped me dress and I wished, with a familiar sweep of sorrow, that Lizzy could be here too. In my mind I could hear her amused voice teasing me about how excited I was, and I could see her long dark hair tumbling out from beneath her hat as she tried, yet again in vain, to tidy her appearance before Mother saw her. It was too painful to think of what she might be doing now, and although I hated myself for doing so I tried to put her to the back of my mind and concentrate, instead, on this perfect day.

‘Promise me you won’t tell anyone,’ I said to Mary, for the hundredth time.

She nodded. ‘I do promise, Evie, you know that.’

‘Not even Lizzy.’ It seemed my friend would not stay in the back of my mind after all.

‘Of course, if you say so, but why haven’t you told her yourself? She’d be so happy for you both.’

‘I wanted to, but I can’t. If someone reads the letter before it reaches her, and passes the news back to Oaklands, it will hurt Mother all the more.’

Mary finished off the simple garland I wore around my head, and straightened the short veil. ‘I won’t say anything, not until you’re able to. It’s not my place anyway.’

‘Thank you.’ I touched her arm gratefully. I’d made up my mind to tell Lizzy as soon as Mother knew, but the trouble was I had no idea when that would be. That I had been lying to her was the worst part, but it had seemed necessary at the beginning, and the longer it went on the harder it had become to stop. Now she would be devastated, not only at my deceit, but also at the fact that she had been excluded from her only daughter’s wedding.

‘Please give me a moment alone,’ I said to Mary when we were satisfied with my appearance, or in my case, almost satisfied. Mary stepped outside and I went to my suitcase and withdrew a small black box. Carefully I opened the lid and took out a battered, black and white paper flower, which I lifted to my lips and kissed before twisting the stem around the belt of my dress. It lay against the beautifully cut lace, incongruous and grubby-looking, and I knew I’d been right to wait until Mary had left the room; she would have tried strenuously to convince me not to wear it, and I would have resisted, and we would have wasted a good deal of time – time neither Will nor I could spare now.

I stepped out through the door, holding my small bouquet against my waist to hide the rose, and only moved it aside when I drew level with Will. The movement drew his eye downward, and then he looked back at me and there was deep and complicated emotion in every line of his face. He kissed his own finger and touched it to the half-uncurled petals, unknowingly mimicking my own gesture, and then he smiled into my eyes and I felt my heart turn over.

The service was quick and simple; those who conducted it were well used to situations like ours, and not an eyebrow was raised even though Mary and Martin were our only witnesses. I remembered standing on the rock above the quarry and yelling to the world that I was going to marry this man, and here we were. Within ten minutes we were legally wed, and back out in the autumn sunshine, hardly able to believe we had actually done it.

After the glorious summer, the weather remained warm. It seemed impossible to think that tomorrow Will would board a train for the coast, and a day later he would be on foreign soil. A shadow seemed to cross the blameless blue sky and I shivered; yes, it did seem impossible, but with every minute that passed we drew closer to the moment when it would become a dark and terrifying reality. What had seemed a wildly romantic notion might have also had the uncomfortable taste of something we had been using to keep the fear at bay, but looking at my new husband and his slightly bemused air of giddy happiness, I knew it was more than that; planning the wedding had provided a welcome distraction, but that did not lessen its importance, or the joy we felt that we were finally together. I also allowed myself the pleasure of having seen Martin steal more than one fascinated glance Mary’s way, although I was sure she herself had not noticed.

They left after tea, and by then Mary had begun returning Martin’s attentions; it seemed they shared an interest in travel, and Martin had grown up in India with his family, so they had much to discuss. She also seemed to be flushing and laughing a good deal more than I was used to seeing. Will noticed too, and after we had waved them off on their return home, he smiled. ‘Do you suppose they even still remember who we are?’