Winds of Eden by Catrin Collier

names?’
    â€˜A few,’ Charles acknowledged. ‘One officer in particular who was killed in action here in Mesopotamia. There was also a Portuguese businessman …’ Charles couldn’t bring himself to mention the natives. ‘Unfortunately I wasn’t the only one who’d heard. John knew about the gossip before I arrived in April. Although he was eligible for leave he didn’t apply. Instead he volunteered to march from Ahwaz to Amara over the desert in the full heat of summer. When he reached Shaiba he had a fever. Harry and Peter dragged him back here. They wouldn’t have succeeded if John had been conscious. Harry told me that Maud visited John in the hospital to tell him she was pregnant. As they hadn’t lived together since John left India in September 1914 he knew he couldn’t be the father.’
    â€˜Were they ever happy?’ Tom asked.
    â€˜Presumably, or John wouldn’t have married her. They honeymooned in Harry’s father-in-law’s house here in Basra. From something Harry said I believe there was animosity between Maud and Harry’s wife. I’ve heard Maud refer to her as “Harry’s native concubine”.’
    â€˜Have you met Harry’s wife?’ Michael looked up as they drew alongside the Mission House.
    â€˜No. Angela Smythe asked if I’d seen Harry’s orderly, Mitkhal. He’s Arab, huge, with the face of a brigand. He was totally devoted to Harry. She was hoping he could take her to Harry’s wife.’
    â€˜Where would I find this Mitkhal?’ Michael opened the carriage door and unrolled the steps.
    â€˜If Mitkhal’s still alive, which I doubt, as I can’t see him standing back and watching Harry take a bullet, Abdul might know. He runs a coffee house, brothel, and gambling house on the quay that caters for British officers as well as natives.’
    â€˜Is he the same Abdul who owns this carriage?’
    â€˜The same.’ Charles glanced at the driver. He knew the man was listening to every word they were saying.
    Michael lifted down the wheelchair.
    â€˜I’ll be damned before I’ll wheel myself into the mission in that contraption,’ Charles snarled.
    â€˜Then be damned. Because you’re in no condition to fight one of us, let alone two.’ Tom stepped down and reached back inside the carriage to lift Charles out.

    Lansing Memorial Mission, Basra, Friday 31st December 1915
    â€˜It’s not Harry, Angela. It’s his brother Michael.’ Charles had reluctantly submitted to being pushed in the chair. ‘He’s in civvies because he’s a war correspondent. Mrs Angela Smythe, meet Michael Downe, and Captain Tom Mason, a doctor like his brother John. Michael, Tom, this is your brothers’ and my very good friend, Mrs Angela Smythe.’
    â€˜You’re so like Harry.’ Tears started in the corners of Angela’s eyes. ‘I can see your resemblance to your brother, Captain Mason, but it’s not as startling as Mr Downe’s to Harry. Please come in, we’ll be having lunch shortly, you must join us.’

Chapter Eight
    Train, London Paddington to the West Country, Friday 31st December 1915
    Helen, Clarissa, and Georgiana found an empty first-class carriage out of London Paddington and spread their bags, coats and hats over the bench seats to discourage anyone else from entering. Georgiana sat next to the window. Not that there was much to see. The day was as grey and despondent as her mood. Rain was falling, not in a torrent, but in a steady icy drizzle that clouded the glass and misted the scenery.
    Dressed in mourning, all three were shattered by grief. They were travelling to Clyneswood and the estate chapel where John and Harry’s memorial service would be held that afternoon. The day before, they’d attended the memorial service for Clarissa’s brother Stephen in Brighton. The emotional strain of coping