Authors: Lucy Lambert
"May I come? I could help you..." I began, but she waved me to silence.
"Sorry, Eleanor, but I'll have to attend to these by myself. Thank you, though, dear. I'm sure the paper will be delivered soon. I should be back before lunch, but if you get hungry then please eat!"
I wanted to ask if she intended on going to the telegram office. Maybe Jeff had sent a message? Or, I thought, maybe I could ask her to send him one? I thought that he'd probably be in Halifax by now. How long would it take for the ship to leave? And which ship would he board? I again found myself hoping that he'd get on the somewhat slower Olympic.
Though, now that I thought of it, the speed of the Mauretania might keep him safe from those U-boats. Especially with them so close to Canada. How could they have gotten as close as St. John's?
"Don't worry," Marie said, putting her hands on the shoulders and looking down on me with a motherly smile, "If there is any word from Jeffrey, I will share it with you as soon as I come home!"
Then she kissed me on the forehead and left. That smile never left her lips. I wondered at why she seemed so happy.
***
True to her word, Marie returned just before noon struck. I'd spent the morning avoiding the paper. It just talked more about conscription, the evils of the Germans, and how many of our boys and men we'd already lost.
The front door opened and I stood from where I'd been sitting on the couch. I rounded the corner of the doorway to look for Maria in the entry hall. She hung her hat on the coat rack and slipped her feet from the pair of plain black flats she'd worn out.
She had a brown paper bag cradled in one arm, and several white and manila envelopes clutched in her hand.
"Here, let me take that for you," I said, holding out my hands for the bag.
Marie smiled and handed it to me. It contained a small loaf of fresh bread, some eggs, and a bottle of milk. These I put in their places in the kitchen.
The smell of the bread reminded me how close we'd come to lunch, whetting my appetite. With that bread, I imagined we'd be having sandwiches of some sort.
Mother and I had been eating sandwiches before our fight, I remembered. My appetite faltered slightly, but remained on its feet. Everything had turned out well so far. Certainly, I'd lost nearly all my possessions: my collection of Bronte novels, my dresses and other clothes, all of my toiletries. But thanks to Marie's kindness I wasn't out a roof over my head, or food in my stomach.
I'd searched to see if Marie had any interesting novels to read. I'd
been wanting to re-read
Jane Eyre
. But there were few books that weren't philosophy or religion, and no fiction. While that had disappointed me, I hadn't been surprised. Marie didn't seem the type to lose herself in tales of the love lives of British gentry.
Marie came into the kitchen and sat at the table, laying the various envelopes down. I couldn't make out any of the addresses or names. But I did sit down across from her. It would be rude to start making myself lunch, even though my stomach panged.
"Any news from Jeff?" I asked, still trying to read the envelopes to see if any were telegrams.
"None," she said.
She grabbed an envelope marked with the crest of the Royal Bank of Canada and tore it open. Inside had to be several hundred dollars in newly minted bills. Marie counted them out on the table as I frowned. What was she doing with all this money?
I watched in silence as she licked one thumb and continued counting. Outside, a horn howled its protest and a horse whinnied in return. The sunlight came in through the windows, catching the dust in the air and leaving shimmering patterns of shadow across the countertop. I grasped my knees and smiled in my ignorance. I hoped that she'd mention lunch soon. I didn't know how much longer I could keep my stomach quiet.
Then Marie sat back, blinking. She had the tip of her tongue held lightly between her teeth.
"Yes," she said finally, "This should be enough."
"Enough for what, Marie?"
"Oh," Marie said, jerking slightly at my interruption as though she'd forgotten that I sat right across from her.
"First, Eleanor, let me apologize for being so secretive earlier. I just didn't want to tell you without first knowing whether it was possible. I didn't want to get your hopes up only to chop them off at the knee, you see?"
I had no idea what she was talking about. I kept looking down at the little stacks of bills. She'd tapped them all against the table to straighten them out. What was all this money for?
"Tell me what, Marie?" I asked.
"Well, with the trains all in use for transporting our boys and moving all those supplies around, I didn't know if I'd be able to get a ticket. But I spoke to a boy who works there—he's the son of one of Jeff's father's friends—and he said that he could sell me a ticket..."
"A ticket to go where, Marie? For whom?" I asked. My fingers had tightened around my knees, rumpling that plain skirt I had on. My stomach had clenched, and my mouth had gone dry. What was she getting at? Something about her tone, her smile, sent my heart racing. The kitchen felt like it had jumped ten degrees hotter in moments.
Marie laughed. She got up from her chair, came around the table, and hugged me, pulling the side of my face against hers. Her hair smelled of soap, and the shoulder of her blouse scratched against the underside of my jaw. I hugged her back, still confused. But I did smile. Her laughter sounded so happy. I just wished that I knew why.
"Oh, Eleanor! I got you a ticket to go to Halifax! You'll be leaving tomorrow!"
My trembling turned to outright shaking, and I gripped handfuls of Marie's blouse as I pulled her closer.
"Marie! That's wonderful, just wonderful..." I said. I had to swallow a lump rising up my throat, and moisture built in the corners of my eyes, waiting for the opportunity to fall down my cheeks.
It was all too much for me. If Marie really had managed to get me a ticket, I could get to Halifax and see Jeff off. Who knew? Maybe the war would end before I got there and we could share a train ride back. We could stop over in Toronto and he could get me an engagement ring from a
jeweller's there.
We parted, Marie standing by my chair, still smiling. Her eyes glistened, too.
"What about you, Marie? Don't you want to go and see him? He's your son," I said, feeling guilty at my glee. If anyone should go, it should be Marie, I knew.
"Oh, I think I know my boy well enough to realize that he'd rather have a pretty young woman seeing him off," Marie said.
I looked at all the money on the table, then grabbed Marie's hands. They were warm and dry in mine, and her fingers grasped mine.
"Why don't you see if you can get a second ticket?" I said, looking at the money again pointedly. Why did she have so much?
"The space on the train is already spoken for. I was lucky enough to get this ticket."
"Then you should go, Marie, I couldn't..."
"No!" Marie said, he fingers squeezing mine so tightly I gasped. Her smile cracked for a moment, but she fixed it back to her lips right away. I almost didn't notice.
"I mean... No, Eleanor. I've made up my mind. You know, when you and Jeff are married, I'll be your mother too. And you mustn't disagree with your mother," she said, her smile growing honest again.
It still felt unreal to me. I had been bracing myself to not see Jeff again until the war ended. That could have been the next week, or five years away. The war had already dragged on for more than three years. Why not a few more? Lately, it had become difficult to recall the sound of his voice. That left me cold inside. I couldn't go for years without hearing his voice again.
But that still left one thing. I stood up, using my slight height advantage to press my point.
"Marie, you really must tell me why you have so much money here on the table."
She extricated her hands from mine,
then collected all the crisp bills up into one fist.
"Well, after I bought the ticket... I got to thinking. What would you do if you got there and found him already departed?"
That made me shiver. It would be truly awful to get there just to find him already out to sea. It would be worse than not having gone at all, since it would be a hope crushed.
"I don't know," I said.
"Well, Eleanor, just listen to me. I've heard that, for enough money, you can book passage. And, well, once you're over there, you'd need money for food, and a place to stay..."
I had to sit down again. Weakness fluttered its wings right under my heart, and I had to breathe deeply or else feel light-headed.
"Over where, Marie?"
"England, of course!
Just think of the look on his face to see you over there. Why, he'd finish up the war and you could go meet him in Paris! Think of it, dear," she said.
Again, we did the back and forth that I could do no such thing. I didn't press the point too hard though, only making her
raise her voice twice to tell me that, as my future mother-in-law, I would do as she said.
"I'll do it!" I said, one hand pressing my chest. I shook so much, and all the blood seemed to have abandoned my mind. I saw black spots like large motes of dust drift across my vision.
Marie hugged me again, and this time my smile matched hers. I closed my eyes and just felt the warmth of her body against mine and smelled the soap in her hair. I'd forgotten all about lunch. My stomach had tightened so much that I don't think I could've managed more than a mouthful in any case.
"Come," Marie said, taking my hand and leading me up the stairs, "I've got a few suitcases I think will suit you nicely. The train leaves early, so we have to get everything ready right away."
Marie seemed even happier than I was, if such a thing were possible. Her face had flushed crimson, and she took in long, deep breaths.
All I could think at the time, our feet hammering on the stairs as we made our way up to the second floor, was "Thank God for Marie Beech!"
Chapter 9
The next morning, I found myself sitting in the window seat of a passenger car, looking down at the platform where Marie had one hand clasped over her mouth while the other waved.
The rest of the seats were filled with soldiers. From what I gathered out of snippets of caught conversations, they were part of a regiment that had been rotated back home for a brief furlough. They were now on their way back out.
The train lurched, its horn crying out as clouds of steam rushed up from the locomotive. My heart leapt, too, and a sudden panic gripped me. I wanted to get off. I couldn't do this. It was too much.
But I couldn't get up. A man in his late twenties, black hair slicked back and his cap resting on his pants, had sat next to me.
The train picked up speed, and Marie turned on the platform to keep sight of me. She kept waving. I raised my hand and curled my fingers at her. It was a dream come true and a nightmare all at once. Fear electrified every nerve in me as I thought about the adventure I was embarking upon. Before this, I'd never been farther than Niagara.
Now I was going to a different province altogether. Maybe even a different continent!
The train sped out of Kitchener so quickly that I scarcely noticed the city until it was almost gone. The low warehouses on the outskirts of town gave way to the rolling Ontario countryside. The sun rose above the tree line to the east, seeming to set the upper branches on fire.
A chill moved through me despite the heat from all the bodies, and I pulled the shawl Marie had given me tighter around my shoulders.
"I hadn't realized that the government had let women enlist. A lot's happened since I came back from France, it seems," the man beside me said. He had a smooth, easy voice to match his smooth, easy smile.
I laughed at him, more as a way to release some of the tension tightening all the muscles in my body than at what he'd said. Leaning back in my chair, I tried to let the clickety-clack of the wheels on the polished rails and the rush of air past the cabin lull me into a daze.
"Yes," I replied, trying to brush him off, "Indeed."
"No," he said, "You mustn't leave me like this to stare off at all these dull barns. Here I'd been thinking that this would be a boring train ride. Do you know what I missed most when I sat huddled in those awful trenches?"
I smiled as I closed my eyes and turned my face away, hoping that he might take the hint. He didn't.
"Women," he continued, "Specifically, the sound of a woman's voice. It's all yelling and bomb bursts and machine gun chatter over there. Why, when I came home I allowed my mother and sisters to talk to me until the clock chimed midnight! I went to sleep that first night with their voices fresh in my mind and a smile on my face..."
"Wonderful, I'm sure you made them quite happy, sir. Now please, if you don't mind..." I said, turning my face away a bit more. Sunlight flashed in my eyes, lighting up through the lids.
"I guess, miss, that what I'm trying to say is that it would sooth this poor wretched soldier's heart if you would speak to me for a while."