She fell asleep thinking of Pru and woke to the sound of children laughing and talking, and thundering down the stairs to have breakfast, shepherded by the young women who took care of them.
Emma dressed in her uniform and joined the children in the kitchen. She was playing games with them when Max walked in, looking as impeccably put together as he had the night before. She felt a little bit intimidated by him. He seemed so sophisticated, handsome, and aristocratic, and he had been nothing but welcoming to her since she’d arrived.
“I’m so sorry. Did the little monsters wake you?” He put one of the younger ones on his lap, and Emma had an adorable little girl on hers. They chatted over the din, and one of the babysitters made them coffee, which they agreed was ghastly ever since the war, and they ate some of the leftover scones. His mother joined them shortly after and told the children that Father Christmas had left them some presents in the great hall. Max told Emma when his mother left the room that she had wrapped them all herself. The children followed her like the Pied Piper and Max and Emma could hear the noise in the hall as they opened their gifts. Pru’s mother managed to make it a happy day for all of them, despite what the Pommerys had been through that year, losing two children. She thanked Emma profusely again for Pru’s journal. She said she had already read half of it.
“You two were quite the naughty girls together, playing tricks on the other nurses, I gather,” she teased Emma, and she laughed.
“We had fun.”
“Pru was always fun, even as a little girl,” she said. “Those were happy times. Life is much harder now, but hopefully it will be over soon.”
Emma said she had to leave, after breakfast. She didn’t want to overstay, and she said she needed to start the journey back or she wouldn’t get to the base, and she was flying the next day.
Lady Pommery hugged her before she left and looked at her with a warm smile. “Thank you for coming, my dear, and thank you for that incomparable gift. Nothing could have pleased me more. Promise me you’ll come back and visit soon, and stay longer next time.” Emma nodded with tears in her eyes. No one had ever been as kind to her, except Pru. Emma thanked her for letting her spend the night, and Max drove her to the station. She didn’t see his father again. Max said his father got up late now, to avoid the children in the kitchen at breakfast.
They were both quiet as they drove to the station.
“I had a really lovely time,” Emma said softly. “Thank you.”
“I’m so glad you came, and didn’t just send the journal by post,” he said, and looked as though he meant it. “I’m glad I met the famous firebrand.” She almost seemed like a gift from Pru. They both laughed at what he said, and he hugged her before she left. There was a train waiting in the station. She bought a ticket and got on it. He waved as it pulled away, and she leaned out the window and shouted back to him.
“Merry Christmas!”
“And to you, Emma!” he shouted back. They were both smiling as the train left the station. It had been a perfect Christmas, Emma thought, thanks to Pru.
* * *
—
Alex had a letter from Dan Stanley, which arrived on Christmas Eve. She hadn’t heard from him since he went back to the front, and he couldn’t tell her where he was. He sounded friendly and in good spirits in the letter, and said he had been thinking of her. Alex thought she might not hear from him again, since she hadn’t in so long. She was happy when she did. It had been five months. So much had happened since he left. Pru and Audrey had died. The war was raging on, although Paris had been liberated.
The Germans seemed to have an unlimited supply of bombs to drop on Great Britain. And it was hard to believe that Europe was celebrating its sixth wartime Christmas. The war had become a way of life by then. But Dan sounded cheerful in his letter, and suggested to her that when the war finally ended, she come to Paris and celebrate with him, which seemed like a bold thing to say. She wouldn’t have admitted it to him, but she liked the idea. She was sure her parents would have been horrified at the thought of her meeting a man in Paris, but she was an adult, and she was in the air forces. She was sure they would be even more horrified if they met him. But he was a good man, and she felt comfortable with him, more than she ever had with her parents’ friends, or the men they considered suitable. There was nothing about her life in the air forces that they would approve of, and she knew that when the war was over and she went back to New York, that would have to change. Maybe Dan Stanley would be part of that change. She was surprised to realize that she liked that idea very much.
* * *
—
Lizzie had a Christmas surprise too. Alfred, the wounded boy who had been a patient of hers when she first arrived and had declared undying love for her, and even proposed marriage, was back. He was suffering from tinnitus, a self-inflicted wound in his right foot, and battle fatigue. He was in their psychiatric ward, which was increasingly crowded these days. Alex had volunteered to work Christmas Day there, and told Lizzie that night that Alfred was telling all the nursing staff that he and Lieutenant Hatton were engaged.
“You might want to put a damper on that,” Alex said discreetly, particularly if Ed heard about it.
“He wrote to me a few times, and I sent him cheery little notes,” Lizzie said, thinking about it. “He actually did ask me to marry him when he was here last time, and of course I said no.” Lizzie looked mildly embarrassed by his claims. “How is he?”
Alex looked serious when she answered. “To be honest, Lizzie, he’s in terrible shape. He was on Omaha Beach. I think his mind is gone. Something snapped. I suspect the army knows it too. He has delusions in the daytime, like being engaged to you, and nightmares all night. He claims he was shot in the foot by a German soldier, but his commanding officer believes he shot himself. You’ve never heard anyone scream the way he does at night. They’re putting him on the next hospital ship home, and until then, we’re babysitting him here in the psych ward until one shows up. I think something in him is irreparably broken.” They had both seen others like him, and it was always sad. “I don’t know how they’re going to put boys like him back together when they get back to the States. The war has been hard on everyone, and we’ll all have nightmares about things we’ll never forget. But I think some of the men will never recover from them. The trauma they went through was just too great for their minds. I think Alfred is one of those. He’s just a kid, but his mind is shot. He says he met Hitler in Berlin.”
“Oh God. Maybe I’ll go see him,” Lizzie said, thinking about it, and sorry for him again.
“Be careful what you say. He’s delusional.”
“I’d like him to stop saying we’re engaged,” Lizzie said quietly.