“Thank you for fetching it,” she said.
“The thing is, darling, the postman had just called too. And there’s some letters for you. I had a look at the postmark and it looks like they’ve come from Devon.” In her hand, Dorothy held two envelopes. Evelyn took then from her, letting blanket drop to the ground. One, she thought, looked rather like Annie’s handwriting. The other, the address written in an uneven scrawl, she knew was from Edward. That was the letter she chose to open first. It was badly written on a scrap of paper, the words difficult to make out. Yet there was still the trace of Edward’s formerly graceful handwriting.
Dearest Evie,
Many thanks for your letters. I wish I was well enough to write more. Only know that you have made me happier than I have been since before the war, with your news from London. I wish I could visit and see you so happy and meet your new love. Thank you for thinking of me.
I miss you too, Evie. Always.
Now I must go but I had to write to let you know, I will always watch over you. Remember me as I was before. Continue to live the life I cannot.
I join my comrades. Remember me, as you do them.
Your loving brother, always,
Eddie.
Tears rose in Evelyn’s eyes. It was impossible to misinterpret the letter. She cast it aside, moving on to the letter she was sure now was from Annie.
Dear Evelyn,
I do not know for sure that this letter will find you. I am not entirely sure if this is the correct address. I do not know if you still care about us here in West Coombe. If you have not become entirely selfish, maybe you do. I hope so.
I am writing to tell you that Eddie is missing. Today is Christmas Eve and we last saw him two days ago. As you know, he rarely leaves the house, so we cannot help but think something serious has happened to him.
I am writing for two reasons. The first is that I know he was closer to you than anyone, so you might know more than we do. Please do share any information you have. The second reason is to ask you to come home. Our family needs you at the moment and will, I believe, put your betrayal of us behind us, in order that we can be together.
I expect the earliest this letter will reach you now is the twenty-seventh. I will hope to see you then, or the day after. I am currently staying with Mother and Father, since neither is feeling strong enough to run the shop or even to make sure there are meals.
I very much hope you still care about us and can put aside your new fancy life in London to help.
With a reminder of your duty,
Your sister,
Annie
Evelyn could feel Annie’s anger in every letter. Annie would never understand. Besides, that did not ultimately matter now.
Blindly, she handed the second letter to Dorothy. Better that she read it herself than Evelyn try to explain. “I have to go home,” she said. “To West Coombe. Today. It’s my brother, you see. Will you help me?”
Dorothy read through Annie’s letter quickly. “Oh gosh, Evie. Darling, I’m so sorry. Do you really think—?”
“Do I think Eddie has killed himself?” The words hit Evelyn harder as she spoke them out loud. “Yes, of course I do. How could I think anything else?”
“I know, darling. It’s just so horrible, I was hoping it might be something else.” Dorothy had passed the letters to Clara, who was now reading them, Courtney leaning over her shoulder. Dorothy pressed an arm around Evelyn’s shoulders.
“I need to get to Paddington and get a train,” Evelyn said. She could think of nothing else and certainly could not allow herself to succumb to the grief, not while she needed to organise her journey.
“Do you need someone to come with you?” Dorothy asked.
“Yes, to the station. To make sure I get on the right train. But I will be fine to go home on my own.” There was really no other way forward, much though she wished she could take one of them to hide behind, to defend her from her own family.
“Come along then, we’ll go in a cab and make sure we find you a train.” This was Clara, who smiled kindly, her eyes full of sympathy.
Just a few minutes later, Evelyn was in a cab with Clara and Courtney. Dorothy had stayed at home, vowing to find Jos and tell her what had happened. Evelyn barely had room in her thoughts to contemplate this. She certainly could not wait for news of Jos. Perhaps she would never see her again. It was decided now.
At Paddington, Courtney made enquiries at the ticket office. There was nothing like a direct train, but Evelyn could take a fast train to Bristol, the next express to Totnes, and then change there to the next local train she could find. It would be evening before she reached West Coombe, but there was really no alternative. Clara insisted on paying for the tickets and Evelyn did not have the strength to argue. She received kisses and good wishes from Clara and Courtney with little response before she boarded the waiting train. She welcomed their kindness, but her mind was entirely on Edward now.
Only as the train began to move out of the station did she realise what she was leaving behind and what she was going back to. She was not the same woman who alighted in this station all those weeks ago. She had been a child then, seeking an adventure. She had found a glorious, colourful Neverland but she was not really part of it. Now home called her back, inexorably,
