Into Chaos Hurled (Book 2)

Twenty-Eight - Winter of Discontent

December 1917

Charlotte

There was another influx of soldiers soon after the Duke's proposal, allowing no time for Mama to react to the news. When I finally broke down and told her, all she did was set her mouth in a thin hard line, her expression unreadable. But she was soon called away by the RAMC officer in charge, and couldn't say anything else.

     Mama's forty-seventh birthday arrived a few weeks later, and we'd been so busy that we hadn't had time to plan anything. She brushed that off with a dismissive wave of her hand, saying that in a war, small things like remembering someone's birthday was last on most people's lists of priorities. The top, staying alive.

     The morning of, as I made my rounds, I discovered none of the soldiers had forgotten. They'd made an army of little wire men, wrapped with paper and string to give them some character. I had to summon a nurse to give me a basket, there were so many of them.

     'This is for your mum, Lady Charlotte,' said a young soldier with the left side of his face burned. His hand was scarred as well, and most days it was hard for him to move it. But today he seemed tentative and hopeful, his grey eyes searching mine. He held his little wire man in his palm out to me. 'Do hope she likes it.'

     'I'm sure she will, Private Pullman,' I said, letting him drop it into the basket to join the others. 'Whose idea was this, anyway?'

     Private Pullman nodded at a soldier sitting with his back to me, in a crisp new officer's uniform, elbows on knees and staring at the ground. It was Petey.

     'Petey,' I said, making him startle and turn around. I indicated the basket. 'How did you come up with this?'

     'Oh, that?' Petey rubbed the back of his head, looking sheepish. 'Just wanted to keep the men busy, you know...get them to talk to each other and that. Morale's been low lately. And Mum's birthday is today. Thought I'd make it up to her, being gone for all the others.'

     'I think you've sufficiently done that.' I held out the basket, and he dropped his own little soldier in. 'You're coming tonight, aren't you? Mr Lowell's putting on a special dinner for Mama.'

     'Perhaps I will,' he said, with a little more warmth than before. 'Are Aunt Cath and Grace staying?'

     'I believe they are.' I gave him a wink and he rolled his eyes, just like old times. 'A chance to make up with Grace properly, is it not?'

     'Oh, go on.' He flapped his hand at me.

     Alf I came to last, sitting in his wheelchair and staring sadly out the window. There was snow falling on the grounds outside, and it was a serene sight. Not to mention there were a few soldiers rough-housing and throwing snowballs at each other. He'd been here since the beginning of the month, alternating between bouts of anger and frustration and deep sadness.

     'Alf?' I approached him cautiously, unsure of what his mood was going to be today. The only thing that seemed to calm him and make him nearly like himself again was the sight of his sister.

     His head turned, and when he smiled, it was small and sad, mirrored in his deep green eyes. 'Hello.'

     'How are you feeling today?' I stopped next to him, turning towards the window. 'Snowfall's beautiful, isn't it?'

     He sighed. 'If only I could go romp in it. But these blasted stumps are useless.'

     'You mustn't despair, Alf,' I said, saddened by the bitterness in his voice. 'We will do everything to keep you comfortable while you are here. Is there anything I can do now that will help?'