The common grief at Edward’s loss seemed, momentarily, to unite them. Her mother gestured to the empty seat at the table and poured an extra cup of tea from the pot. Evelyn removed her coat and tried to feel at home, as she waited to hear what they knew about Edward.
“It was like I said in my letter,” Annie said. “He was here, and then he was gone. He didn’t say anything to anyone. You know, he doesn’t walk about that much during the day. He’s just always in his chair. Since you’ve been gone, he’s been even less communicative actually. It’s like none of us are good enough for him to make the effort.” Annie said this with some resentment. Evelyn wondered why her brother’s feelings were her fault.
“Anyway, Father was in the shop and it was wash day, so Mother was out the back. The next time anyone came to see if Eddie wanted a drink, or some food, he was missing. We’ve asked all around the village but no one has seen him. And you’d think they’d notice, wouldn’t you?”
Evelyn felt the sadness creeping through her veins as she contemplated her brother’s last hours. What would he do? What would he have thought and felt? The cold, heavy certainty of what had happened settled on her chest. “And there’s been no sign of him?”
“No,” her mother said. “We’ve had the whole village out searching. We’ve found nothing.”
“Did he leave any clues?” Evelyn asked.
“No,” Annie said. “But we did wonder if he might tell you something that he wouldn’t tell us.”
Evelyn thought for a moment. Should she reveal her brother’s private communication to her? She looked at the pain in the eyes of their parents and knew Edward would forgive her. From her inside pocket, she drew the letter she had received that morning. “I think he wrote me this letter to say goodbye,” she said, her fingers trembling. “I’d have thought so even if it hadn’t arrived at the same time as Annie’s letter. I think Eddie’s was a little delayed because of how bad his handwriting is. So I got them both this morning.” With some reluctance, she handed the letter to her mother, who passed it on to her father, and then Annie. She hated to share something that was private between herself and Edward. But her family were hurting and they needed to know. Edward would understand.
By the time they had all read the letter, Annie and her mother had tears in their eyes. Evelyn felt their pain, knew she had no right to claim this grief was hers alone. No matter that Edward had been closer to her than anyone else, he was Annie and Peter’s brother, he was the eldest son of the family. It was a different loss to each of them but it was still a loss. It was also one they had been unprepared for. Eddie had survived the war. For it to finally have its full effect on him now, a decade later, made his survival seem so futile. They thought they were the generation who had surivived the war but they were still being killed by it.
“But what did he do?” Annie asked, voicing what they were all thinking.
“For there to be no sign of him…” their mother said, her voice hoarse with pain.
“It’ll be the sea,” her father said, gruffly. “No other way it’s possible. Besides, it’s easy. He was hardly in a state to plan anything.”
They were all quiet, contemplating this. After a few minutes, it was as if her mother was suddenly reminded that her wayward daughter had returned to the fold. She turned sharp eyes on Evelyn. “You’ll be staying, then, I take it?”
Evelyn was startled by the sudden question. “Yes. I mean, I don’t have to, if you’d prefer me not to.”
“Nonsense. You’re part of the family, even if you turned your back on us. You’ll stay here. What’s more, we won’t hear any more of your London talk. You’ll stay here and you’ll go back to your duties in the shop. With any luck, there’s a man in the town who will still think of having you, before too long has passed.” Evelyn’s mother spoke the words as if there was no alternative.
Evelyn, who had not really stopped to contemplate if her return to West Coombe was permanent, was horrified. “I don’t want to marry someone from West Coombe, Mother,” she exclaimed.
“Then you’ll be a spinster and help me take care of your father. Whatever you do, you’ll stop daydreaming. It was Edward who made you daydream, and look what’s happened to him. I won’t lose you to it as well.”
“Eddie wasn’t daydreaming,” Evelyn replied, angry now. “He was damaged by the war. It was shell shock, or whatever they’re calling it these days.”
“And yet he could manage to tell you to go to London, to take himself off and end it all? Funny kind of illness that’s only bad when you want it to be.”
“Mother, you can’t mean it. You know Eddie wasn’t choosing to be as he was.”
“I don’t really know what I know any longer, Evelyn. But I do know you’re going to do the right thing by this family.” Her mother sounded more tired than forceful. This made it even more difficult to argue with her.
“But I love someone in London,” Evelyn protested, finally. The image of Jos sprang into her mind’s eye. To feel such a connection with her, to imagine her so vividly, seemed very odd in her family’s kitchen. Jos might as well have not existed. Yet she was so very real. Evelyn remembered how it felt to
