Justin Go - The Steady Running of the Hour

— What does it matter—

— Let me finish, darling. In that café, I thought of us having a child together. I thought of being with you every day for years, of what it would mean to have even one week together in a house, with no one to trouble us. I knew we were as lovely together as anything paired in this world. And as soon as I knew it, I knew it always. It’s never left me, not even when I thought you were dead. But I can’t go through another month like this.

— I don’t understand. You’ve come to France only to refuse me? Only to say—

— That I prize you, Imogen says, a thousand times more than myself. So I have come to say what cannot be put in a letter—

She puts her hand to his face, cradling his mouth so that he cannot speak.

— You can’t go back to the front, Ashley. You musn’t. Not now.

— Don’t be absurd.

Imogen shakes her head violently. — It’s absurd to go back. Can’t you see that? We’ve a child and I won’t have it grow up without a father, simply because I was too weak to say what I thought, and you were too blind to see—

— I’m not blind.

She throws her hands in the air.

— You aren’t? Look around you, Ashley. What’s happened to all the fellows from your OTC? Why are half the girls in Mayfair wearing black, looking as though they were struck by lightning? Because all of England is lying to themselves, saying they’ll be the ones to make it, or that their husbands will survive. And I did it too, Ashley, but after this month I can’t do it any longer. A year ago I wanted to save everyone, the Germans and the English, the French and the Austrians. Now I can’t bear to look at a newspaper. And do you know why?

— That isn’t the point—

— Because I know how selfish I am, for if you should have to kill a hundred men to survive, I’d want you to do it. It’s a dreadful thing to admit, but it’s true. Ashley, I’ve given up on principle. The war will go on and on until everyone’s dead, and I can’t save them all. But I can try to save the things that matter.

— I know what I’m doing. I’ve been careful out there.

Imogen stands up, pushing her palm against her forehead.

— Ashley, she gasps, you were nearly killed. What more can it take to convince you? Will you not believe me until you’re dead on the ground? You’re the reasonable one, so tell me why it’s reasonable to suppose that if one in ten lieutenants survive this war, you’ll be the one.

— I’ve lasted this long for a reason.

— Lasted, she repeats. Listen to yourself. It’s only been three months. Look at the awful scar on your neck, you can’t even speak as you used to. You’ve given them enough, must you give everything?

— It’s not my choice whether—

Imogen comes back to him, taking his hand and looking him in the eye.

— It is, darling, it is. That’s what I’ve come to tell you. I daresay you hate the war more than I ever could, but you won’t admit anything, because you’re blind to it. You’re inside the machine and you can’t see that there’s any way out, that a man can do anything but go on and die.

— Have you any idea what you’re talking about? Even if I wanted to leave, it would be impossible.

— Nothing’s impossible. There must be a way out, we need only find it. It means your life, Ashley. I’ve already left England, I don’t care if I ever go back. We could plan something and wait for the right moment—

Ashley shakes his head, his voice louder.

— Are you mad? You’re speaking of desertion.

— I’m speaking of saving your life. If you won’t leave, get transferred somewhere, away from the front. Get sent to a training camp, to any damned place where I’d know you were safe and I could sleep again. All the men you worry will look down on you will be long dead by then. What does it matter what anyone thinks if we have each other?

Ashley pulls off his necktie and puts it in his pocket. He stands up.

— You’re living in a fantasy. You imagine I can walk away from my men as if this were the Boy Scouts. You imagine we can simply forget about your people and my people, and have a child without ever getting married. They’ve a name for such children, Imogen, and they aren’t invited to the embassy ball.

Imogen backs toward the door, her face coloring as she feels for the doorknob behind her.

— I can’t listen to this.

She walks out of the cottage, the door swinging shut behind her. The candle’s flame is sucked out. Ashley stays at the table in the blackness, watching the smoke curl from the smoldering wick. He goes out the door.

Imogen stands in the beech grove beyond the cottage, the gray daylight now beginning to fail. It has stopped raining but the trees are shedding huge drops of water. Ashley walks up to her, but she does not turn around.

— Who knows about the child?

— A doctor in Kensington.

— Anyone else?

— Ellie. That’s all.

Ashley looks down at the wet leaves.

— For God’s sake Imogen, be sensible and take me as I am, even if all this is less than perfect. Tell me you’re not afraid to spend your life with me, as I’m not—

— I’m not afraid.

— Then marry me.

Imogen turns and touches his shoulder, her fingers running over the golden Bath Star stitched onto his epaulet. She bites her lip.

— Darling. I can’t. Least of all when I hardly know if I’ll ever see you again. You have to get away—

Ashley shakes his head, looking at her and speaking gently.

— I can’t leave the army. Even if you are with child. It simply isn’t possible.

— It must be possible. It’s our only chance.

— I wouldn’t go even if it were possible. Imogen, I’ve led men to their deaths. Men who went willingly because I pushed them forward. Men with families of their own—

— Getting killed won’t bring them back.

— It won’t. But I’ve a duty—

— You haven’t a duty to me? Or our child?

— I do.

— Then which is more important?

— I have to see this through.

Imogen’s voice breaks. She shakes her head, her eyes shining.

— But you’ll never see it through. Can’t you understand that? And I can’t spend another week waking three times in the night, knowing you’ll be cold and dead before I’d even get a message. Ashley if you go back, I’ll never see you again, I know it. I’ve seen it in nightmares a dozen times, where I look for you, but you haven’t even a grave to mark—

— You’re only frightened, Ashley interrupts. You’re frightened and so you imagine things, but that doesn’t make them true. We’re all scared sometimes. But I’m an officer. I can’t abandon my men because it’s dangerous.

— You’re a man. You’re a man with one life to live and you’ll lose it. Have them send you somewhere safe, anywhere but the front. You’ve been wounded, get the doctors to say you’re unfit for active service. I know you could do it, other men have—

— I can’t do that. I shan’t.

— You won’t do it for me? For our child, Ashley?

— I can’t.

Imogen throws her arms in the air.

— And you expect me just to wait? To stay up each night, carrying your child, knowing you might never see it, because you weren’t willing—

— I can’t leave the army.

— Then I can’t wait for you.

Imogen swallows hard. She looks at Ashley, her eyes large and wet, her cheeks flushed as she turns her face slightly from side to side, her mouth open without any words. No one speaks. Still looking at Ashley, Imogen turns and goes back to the cottage. Ashley does not follow her.