Until we meet again (A war romance) (#Wattys2015)

Part 12 - Diana and Matthew

Diana:

He was alive! I had finally received his letter, but I was still heartbroken:

My Dearest Di,

I am sorry I didn’t write sooner, but I was- unable to write. Thanks for the biscuits. I ate one, as did my friend, Will, but the rest are back in the trench. I say it like this, because I am no longer on the front line. I was injured by barbed wire, clumsy me! I was also shot, but I was saved by another bullet in my pocket, fancy that! I am the miracle man…

I am being kept at a small hospital in Le Havre, a town in North-Western France. I can’t walk, and I have burns from a grenade that went off, but I’m otherwise alright.

Don’t worry about me; I am in good hands. The nurse here is very nice, and she’s asking about me getting sent home for Christmas. She says I won’t be able to walk again at least until the next year, so there’d be no reason they’d say no.

I hope I get to see you soon,

Yours truly, Matthew Xxx

P.S. Will is dead. You won’t be meeting him any time soon…

“He’s alive!” I cried, as tears streamed down my cheeks, but this time, they were tears of happiness. I was sad for this boy, Will, of course but- and I felt very bad for thinking this- I’d never met the boy…

He will be home by Christmas! He will be! He might have been in France, but I had never felt closer to him than I ever had at this moment.

Matthew:

I’d been there, what- another two days? But at least I was conscious. Annie- I mean Nurse Simpson, tended to me every day, and even came to see me on her breaks. She insisted that she must look after me- “After all,” she would say, “He can’t understand the other nurses; they don’t speak English!” She won of course; she was brilliant! She would talk to me about her family, back in Paris. She had a 10 year old sister, Pippa, and her Mother, Ada. Her Father had gone off to war, and was missing in action.

“You speak very good English,” I said, and she laughed, and flashed me a smile,

“So do you,”

“No, I mean it. Where did you learn?”

“At school. When I was a girl, I always wanted to travel to England, so I studied English a lot, and now I am fluent.”

“Maybe you could come back to England with me, and meet my girlfriend. I’m sure you’d get along very well!”

“Hmmm,” she murmured. She always hesitated when I mentioned Di; I had no idea why!

“Why don’t you like Di?”

“Well she’s very… lucky,” she said before hurrying off.

“You’re red as a beetroot!” the man in the bed beside me chuckled.

I did feel hot. I laughed as well, after hesitation. “Thanks, Henry,” I said sarcastically. Henry was around 40 years old, but understood me almost as much as Will had. He had been stabbed by a bayonet, and was being treated. He had, apparently, been bought in the same day that I had- not that I knew, being unconscious and all… When I had woken up the next morning, he had seen me writing to Di, and we had made conversation. We soon became fast friends, mostly because we had both been through so much. We also talked about our lives back home. Henry’s wife, Paula, was helping out back home, by working in a munitions factory. I had never imagined women working, let alone Di, and Paula, but times were changing…

Annie rushed along the rows of beds, her shoes squeaking on the floor. She had a massive grin plastered on her face. When she reached my bed, she clutched , my hand, and looked into my eyes.

“The head of the hospital has said you can go back until you’re healed.”

I stared at her, eyes wide. “I’m going home?”

“Yes! And I’m going with you! You still need someone to look after you, after all!”

Suddenly, I was hugging her. She smelt of rose perfume, and she felt warm. “Thank you,” I whispered, almost crying. Nothing more was said, but as she pulled away, I saw her face was bright pink. She nodded, and hurried away again. I was going home. I was going home!

 

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