you in an officer’s uniform.’
Unable to hold back any longer, Eveleen sprang to her feet, pushing back her chair with a violent movement so that for a moment it tottered, threatening to crash to the floor.
‘Proud to read his name in the lists of casualties? Proud to tend his grave?’
Richard, on the opposite side of the table, rose too. ‘Evie, darling, please—’
Now she rounded on him. ‘Don’t “Evie darling” me. You don’t care about me, about any of us, if you insist on this crazy notion.’ Her voice softened a little
as she turned to look down the table towards Brinsley. ‘I know I’ve disappointed you not being able to present you with a grandson, an heir for you, but—’
‘Eveleen . . .’ Suddenly Richard’s tone was firm. ‘This is hardly the time or the place.’
‘But,’ Eveleen continued, disregarding his rebuke. ‘I’m hardly going to have the chance now, if he gets himself killed, am I?’
Brinsley looked up at her, his dark eyes filled with the same sadness and hopelessness that she knew were mirrored in her own. They stared at each other for a long moment, so much of what had
happened between their families surfacing in both their minds. They shared secrets from the past, in which, though fully aware of them, neither Richard nor his mother were involved. For a brief
moment, it was as if Brinsley and Eveleen were alone together in the room, the other two forgotten.
Poignantly, Eveleen said softly, ‘I won’t have any more chances.’
Brinsley knew all about lost chances.
But now Sophia spoke, dragging them back to the present drama and pushing their unhappy memories into the background. The present was every bit as bleak as the distant past had been.
‘My dears, Richard will be an officer. He won’t be where the danger is. You’ll see,’ Sophia said, standing up and bringing the conversation, as far as she wished to be
concerned in it, to a close. ‘He’ll make us all so proud of him, I know he will.’ She moved down the table and kissed Richard’s cheek fondly, before turning and making her
way to the door out of the dining room. ‘Besides,’ she added, waving her hand airily, ‘they say it’s not going to last for long. He’ll be home by Christmas.’
As the door closed behind her, the three people left in the room regarded each other gravely.
Sixteen
The four people at Pear Tree Farm looked at each other with equally solemn faces.
‘So you’re really set on it, then?’ Mary broke the silence at last.
‘I’m sorry, but yes, I am,’ Andrew said quietly. There was apology in his eyes, but a steadfast determination in his tone. Nothing and no-one could change his mind.
‘You don’t love me,’ Bridie cried passionately and now the tears were coursing down her face. ‘Gran said you didn’t and she was right.’
‘I never said any such thing!’
‘What?’
‘Bridie, mi duck . . .’
The three of them spoke at once, Mary with indignation, Andrew with confusion and Josh with concern, trying to pour oil on what he could see would be very troubled waters any minute now.
Casting resentful glances at all three of them, Bridie muttered, ‘You wouldn’t go if you did.’
Andrew reached out and took her hand and even when she tried to pull free he held it firmly. ‘You are the most important person in the world to me, you know that.’
She wanted to tell him, wanted to blurt out what her grandmother had said, that he only loved her because she reminded him of the great love of his life, but the words would not come. If he was
going away, she could not let them part in anger, with misunderstanding between them. And, even at her tender age, she was mature enough to know that if she told him he would deny it. He would say
he loved her for herself. But she realized now that she was no more than a child in his eyes. A dear, beloved child, of that she had no doubt, for whatever reason – but only a child.
Bridie swallowed the
Unable to hold back any longer, Eveleen sprang to her feet, pushing back her chair with a violent movement so that for a moment it tottered, threatening to crash to the floor.
‘Proud to read his name in the lists of casualties? Proud to tend his grave?’
Richard, on the opposite side of the table, rose too. ‘Evie, darling, please—’
Now she rounded on him. ‘Don’t “Evie darling” me. You don’t care about me, about any of us, if you insist on this crazy notion.’ Her voice softened a little
as she turned to look down the table towards Brinsley. ‘I know I’ve disappointed you not being able to present you with a grandson, an heir for you, but—’
‘Eveleen . . .’ Suddenly Richard’s tone was firm. ‘This is hardly the time or the place.’
‘But,’ Eveleen continued, disregarding his rebuke. ‘I’m hardly going to have the chance now, if he gets himself killed, am I?’
Brinsley looked up at her, his dark eyes filled with the same sadness and hopelessness that she knew were mirrored in her own. They stared at each other for a long moment, so much of what had
happened between their families surfacing in both their minds. They shared secrets from the past, in which, though fully aware of them, neither Richard nor his mother were involved. For a brief
moment, it was as if Brinsley and Eveleen were alone together in the room, the other two forgotten.
Poignantly, Eveleen said softly, ‘I won’t have any more chances.’
Brinsley knew all about lost chances.
But now Sophia spoke, dragging them back to the present drama and pushing their unhappy memories into the background. The present was every bit as bleak as the distant past had been.
‘My dears, Richard will be an officer. He won’t be where the danger is. You’ll see,’ Sophia said, standing up and bringing the conversation, as far as she wished to be
concerned in it, to a close. ‘He’ll make us all so proud of him, I know he will.’ She moved down the table and kissed Richard’s cheek fondly, before turning and making her
way to the door out of the dining room. ‘Besides,’ she added, waving her hand airily, ‘they say it’s not going to last for long. He’ll be home by Christmas.’
As the door closed behind her, the three people left in the room regarded each other gravely.
Sixteen
The four people at Pear Tree Farm looked at each other with equally solemn faces.
‘So you’re really set on it, then?’ Mary broke the silence at last.
‘I’m sorry, but yes, I am,’ Andrew said quietly. There was apology in his eyes, but a steadfast determination in his tone. Nothing and no-one could change his mind.
‘You don’t love me,’ Bridie cried passionately and now the tears were coursing down her face. ‘Gran said you didn’t and she was right.’
‘I never said any such thing!’
‘What?’
‘Bridie, mi duck . . .’
The three of them spoke at once, Mary with indignation, Andrew with confusion and Josh with concern, trying to pour oil on what he could see would be very troubled waters any minute now.
Casting resentful glances at all three of them, Bridie muttered, ‘You wouldn’t go if you did.’
Andrew reached out and took her hand and even when she tried to pull free he held it firmly. ‘You are the most important person in the world to me, you know that.’
She wanted to tell him, wanted to blurt out what her grandmother had said, that he only loved her because she reminded him of the great love of his life, but the words would not come. If he was
going away, she could not let them part in anger, with misunderstanding between them. And, even at her tender age, she was mature enough to know that if she told him he would deny it. He would say
he loved her for herself. But she realized now that she was no more than a child in his eyes. A dear, beloved child, of that she had no doubt, for whatever reason – but only a child.
Bridie swallowed the
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