Robert had compared serving God with serving in the military. “We can use the lessons we learned while fighting the war to lay aside our own comfort and follow His commands. The fight against evil is far from over.” There were people who needed to be set free. And Linda had been one of them.
“Would Robert have reached out to this woman if God asked him to?” the vicar pressed.
The question angered Audrey. She let go of his hand. “Why would God ask such a thing?”
“Why did you go into dangerous places during the war and risk your life? You drove your ambulance into places where the bombs were still falling.”
“I did it to save lives.”
“Ah. Then you do understand why your husband did it. And why God would ask him to. Perhaps he hoped to save this woman from a life of bitterness and despair.” Rev. Hamlin stood. “I know you didn’t really want to see me today, and I imposed myself on you. But I’m a telephone call away whenever you would like to talk.”
Audrey walked with him to the door as a courtesy. “Thank you for coming, Vicar.”
He turned to her again on the front step. “In these hard times, we have so many questions for God. And I know you’re probably at loose ends, wondering where to turn and what comes next. But may I leave you with a question to think about as you sort things through?” She tilted her head in a reluctant nod, not really wanting to hear his question, knowing it likely would be a difficult one. “What might God be asking you to do?” he said.
She didn’t reply. She closed the door as if closing it on his question as well.
Shortly before Christmas, Audrey’s uncle telephoned. “Your aunt and I would like you to join us at our country home for the holidays,” he said. “We hate to think of you sitting at Wellingford Hall all alone. Come be with your family.”
Audrey bit back an angry reply. When had they ever been a family? There had been no family Christmas celebrations before the war when Mother was alive. As an important member of the House of Lords, her uncle had very little contact with his sister, the black sheep. Audrey had last seen him at her mother’s funeral.
“Did you know that I married an American during the war?” she asked. “We have a son. He’s six months old.”
“You should have contacted us so we could congratulate you.”
“Unfortunately, my husband passed away a few months ago.”
For a long moment, there was nothing but static on the line. “I’m so sorry, Audrey,” he finally said.
“Thank you for the invitation, but I think I’ll spend Christmas at Wellingford. I’m still in mourning, you see. I’m sure you’ll understand.”
“Of course, of course. But I hope you’ll contact your aunt and me when you’re ready. There’s room here for you to stay and also at our London town house. We could introduce you to the people we know. You’re our niece, after all.”
“The people we know.” They would be the same people Mother wanted Audrey to meet—boring, unimaginative, cold. Nothing at all like her beloved Robert. She couldn’t go back to those people. Not after knowing him.
“Thank you for your kind offer. I’ll be in touch when I’m ready.” But Audrey couldn’t imagine when she ever would be ready.
26
USA, DECEMBER 1946
Like everything else in America, the Christmas celebrations were extravagant. Eve sat in church with the Barretts on her first Christmas Eve, and the sheer weight of the festivities, with twinkling trees, garlands of greenery, and piles of poinsettias, made her feel buried alive. She was back in the ATS training shed in her gas suit, but this time Audrey wasn’t here to pull her out. Eve looked up at the beamed ceiling, fighting panic, and recalled the collapsed roof of Guards’ Chapel, the buried worshipers. She fought to breathe, shifting her gaze to the side where a stunning stained-glass window across the aisle from the Barrett family pew depicted the Good Shepherd. It was startlingly similar to Granny Maud’s picture of the Good Shepherd, now buried in the debris of the Clarksons’ town house. Buried along with Eve’s faith. She had tried to avoid coming to church, using her six-month-old son as an excuse to stay home. But the Barretts hired a very competent nurse to take care of him. Wealthy families like theirs could hire an army of nannies and nursemaids.
Eve closed her eyes as the choir sang, remembering the waxy smell of candles in the village church, the holly branches decorating the windowsills. She had sat between Granny Maud and Mum on Christmas Eve, singing “Silent Night” and listening to the story of baby Jesus in the manger. Granny especially loved the shepherds.
“Your daddy and granddaddy were shepherds,” she said, year after year. “I like to think that the angels would have appeared to them if Jesus had been born in England.” The story intrigued Eve as a child. Jesus was a king, like the king of England, yet He’d been born among common people like her. In a barn, not in Buckingham Palace. “Where else would the Good Shepherd be born but in a stable?” Granny said when Eve asked about it. “Who else should His first visitors be but His fellow shepherds? They wouldn’t dare walk into Buckingham Palace, but they would be right at home in a stable.”
Eve opened her eyes again. Mrs. Barrett reached for her hand and squeezed it as the pastor spoke of Christmas as a time for families. Eve was aware of the love that had grown between her and Robert’s parents in just a few short months. She and Harry filled an empty place in their lives, and they had filled one in hers. They’d enveloped Eve in their love, never questioning who she was, nor had they commented on her son’s red hair and blue eyes, so different from Robert’s. Audrey had been a fool not to come. The Barretts were the loving parents Audrey had longed for all her life. But Audrey’s loss was Eve’s gain.
The church lights dimmed. Candlelight flickered as the congregation passed the flame from one person’s candle to the next, down the rows of pews. Eve squirmed in her seat, longing for the service to end, the hymns that told of God’s love to fall silent. Guilt and shame snaked through her. How dare she come into God’s house and pretend to worship? The people around her didn’t know she was a fraud and an adulteress, but God knew.
It had been the same at the Christmas party at the Barretts’ country club a few evenings ago. Then too, Eve had tried to beg off, knowing she was a fraud, insisting she had nothing to wear. “Clothing and shoes were rationed during the war, Mrs. Barrett, and very hard to come by. That’s why everything in my suitcase is so shabby and worn-out.” She had worried that the servants would notice the cheap quality of her wardrobe when they washed her laundry and would expose her secret. So far, they hadn’t.
“Then we’ll simply have to go to New York on a shopping trip,” Mrs. Barrett had replied. “Father can tell you how much I adore shopping!” She purchased a full wardrobe for Eve, everything from hats and shoes to knickers and nylons. She took Eve to the hairdresser for a stylish cut. They had manicures together.
The party at the country club terrified her—and Eve wasn’t easily frightened. Since adopting Audrey’s name, she had become an actress, mimicking Audrey’s speech, her ladylike gestures, her manners. It had been one thing to dress up and play Cinderella for one evening at the Savoy with Alfie, another thing to play this role for the rest of her life. She had nothing in common with the other country-club women who talked about their summer homes on the shore, tennis matches, sailing on Long Island Sound. They went on skiing trips to Vail and Switzerland. They’d earned degrees from prestigious women’s colleges like Vassar and Radcliffe. They would excuse Eve’s shyness as that of a recent widow, newly arrived in America, for now. But sooner or later she would have to adopt their lifestyle.