‘Lucy, please,’ she begged, voice soft but full of desperation.
‘Mother, that man out there, that handsome soldier . . .’ She inhaled, releasing a shaky breath before continuing. ‘Do you honestly believe he’d still feel the same about me if he saw this?’ She extended her neck, letting her mother get an eyeful of her daily reminder from that awful day, the day she’d almost burnt alive, or at least that’s what it had felt like. ‘This?’ She held out her arm.
Her mother turned then, a sad look on her face as she walked out of the room. Lucy knew she was hurting her and she hated it. But she sat back down, picked up her book, and pretended to read. Because it wasn’t only her burns, it was the broken feeling inside of her that made her feel a hundred times removed from the woman she’d once been.
‘Lucy?’ her mother muttered, marching into the room, hands in fists at her sides.
She tried to appear unrattled even though it upset her to see her mother so worried. ‘Yes?’
‘He’s still sitting out there. In the cold.’
Lucy shrugged. ‘Perhaps it will get cold enough that he’ll leave.’
Her mother threw up her hands in desperation. ‘It’s been six hours. Six hours, Lucy!’ She folded her arms crossly. ‘I’ve taken him tea, and now supper. Please, just go out there and see him or he might still be there come morning. It’s ridiculous.’
Lucy closed her eyes, squeezed away the tears. Crying was for dealing with skin grafts and pain, not for worries concerning a man.
‘Please tell him again, Mother, I don’t want to see him.’
‘Lucy, enough,’ her mother said, walking closer, her eyes full of her own tears. ‘If you want him to go, then you march out there and tell him yourself. Whatever it is you think has changed about you. Whatever it is that’s making you think you’re not good enough.’ She leaned forward, touched her finger to the side of Lucy’s head. ‘The change is in here,’ she said, moving her fingers, reaching for her hand. ‘Not here.’
Lucy stared up at her mother, knowing she’d been awful to live with, awful to care for. She stood, throwing her arms around her and holding her tight.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she whispered. ‘I am so, so sorry, Mother. I regret every harsh word, every time I’ve lashed out at you, but I can’t seem to help it. Please tell him to go, please do that for me.’
Her mother held her then kissed her head. ‘No. Go and make peace with him. He told me you saved his life, and I don’t think he’s leaving until he says whatever it is that’s brought him all this way.’
Lucy wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands, trying to steady herself. Her mother was right, she needed to be the one to tell him to go. Only she knew why he’d come, and she was going to have to show him that she wasn’t the nurse he remembered, far from it. Once he saw her, spoke to her, he’d understand.
She stepped past her mother and pressed her hands against her skirt, smoothing out the fabric, then ran her fingers carefully against her hair. She wasn’t going to make an effort to disguise or hide her burns; it was an impossible task and besides, it was dark outside. Perhaps he wouldn’t see them and she could convince him to go regardless.
Lucy walked slowly but steadily forwards. She turned the knob and pulled the door open, her eyes taking a moment to adjust to the dim light outside. It was after dark, but the moon was high in the sky, bathing the porch in enough light to see by once her eyes focused. And there he was, leaning against the railings and looking out at the street.
She wished she could run to him, throw her arms around him and pretend nothing had changed. She wished the war was over, that things were different.
‘Hi, Jack,’ she said simply.
When he turned to her, his smile was so big it almost broke her heart. In a few fast steps, he’d know. He’d see how different she looked, what had happened to her.
‘Lucy!’ He closed the distance between them in four short strides, scooping her up into his arms. ‘You kept me waiting long enough!’
Lucy refused to give in to his warm embrace, stayed stiff, pushing him away when he let go enough for her to do so.
‘Jack, you need to go,’ she told him.
‘What? Why?’ He looked confused. He was so dashing in his dress uniform, the jacket firm over his wide shoulders, his dark hair a handsome contrast against the olive of his skin. She wished she didn’t have to act so cold when all she wanted was to hold him close.
‘You can’t be here. Please, just go,’ she said, her voice breaking, the crack in her softly spoken words impossible to miss.
‘No. Not unless you give me a good reason.’ He took her hand and openly studied her fingers and then met her gaze. ‘You’re not married. Are you engaged? Because whoever it is, whoever beat me to it . . .’
‘There’s no one else, Jack. That’s not it.’
‘Then what?’ he asked. ‘I’ve been playing this moment through my head ever since I went back to active duty, imagining your face, your smile, everything about you. It’s what kept me going. You’re what kept me alive.’ He paused. ‘I slowly remembered everything, time healed that, but I never once forgot about you.’
Lucy sobbed then, she couldn’t help it. One big, heart-wrenching sob escaped from her mouth, depleting all her energy and making her double over.
‘Lucy, what is it? Why are you . . . ?’
‘Look,’ she sobbed, holding out her other hand, letting him see her skin, all tortured and pink. ‘Look,’ she whispered this time, standing up and moving into the moonlight, turning her face so he could see the mangled skin that made its way up her neck, almost to her jaw. She had it over her stomach, too, on the same side. Her skin had literally burnt off her body the day she was trying to help those children, children that had been blown apart when the SS soldiers had started shooting and a grenade had exploded, parts of them sprayed on to her as she lay burning on the grass.
Jack didn’t say anything. He looked at her, held her gaze, his eyes damp as he then turned his stare back to her arm and neck. He was quiet, so quiet, and she bit down hard on her bottom lip, trying to stop the sobs, trying to quiet the emotion that was so raw within her.
He reached for her hand, paused, then stepped back, his hands now both by his sides.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said simply.
Lucy nodded. ‘Now you know.’
‘This is the reason you didn’t want to see me?’ he asked. ‘This is why you’ve kept me waiting half the day and night?’
She nodded again.
‘I see.’
They stood there a moment longer, awkwardly. She looked down and she wondered if he did, too.
‘Lucy, I don’t know what happened to you over there, but I have a feeling you did that for someone else. To save someone else.’ He cleared his throat. ‘You risked your life to save me. I know what you’re capable of. Is it true? Am I right?’
She stepped back to lean against the front door, her body braced against it for fear she might collapse otherwise.
‘Yes.’