Barbara Bradford - A Woman of Substance

They sat in front of the fire and talked for a while about the war and the probability that the boys would enlist imminently. ‘Bryan is in London with me,’ Blackie told her. ‘He wanted to come with me today, but I wasn’t sure you’d be up to it.’

‘Oh, Blackie, I am disappointed. I’d love to see him,’ she exclaimed, her face brightening. ‘Could he come tomorrow? You know how dear Bryan is to me.’

‘Sure and he can. I’ll bring him meself.’ Blackie now gave her a guarded look. ‘When do you think you’ll be fit enough to go back to the store?’

‘Next week. The doctor was against it, actually. He thinks I should go to Yorkshire for a rest. But I simply can’t neglect the business any longer, and it’s just not fair to Winston. He’s carrying all the responsibility. Besides, he ought to go back to Leeds. We’ve a lot of reorganizing to do.’

‘I know what you mean. I’m facing the same problems. Anyway, Emma, I think it’s a good idea for you to get back into the harness again. You must keep your mind occupied, so that you don’t dwell on things.’

Her face clouded momentarily. ‘Yes, that’s true.’ The maid knocked and came in with the tea tray. Emma eyed the heavy Georgian teapot warily, wondering if she had the strength to lift it. For days she had been like a woman with the palsy, dropping and spilling things. She lifted it carefully and poured two cups, and to her relief her hands did not tremble for once.

She said, ‘I spoke to David yesterday. He sounded very down in the dumps. Ronnie and Mark have already joined up. He’s going to miss them terribly. They’ve been his whole life since Rebecca died.’

He observed the sudden mistiness in her eyes and said swiftly, ‘He’ll be all right, Emma. Tell you what, I’ll take him under my wing when I get back to Leeds. Get him out of that great mausoleum where he lives in such solitary splendour. It’ll do him good to start socializing again.’

‘I wish you would, darling. I do worry about him.’ Emma looked into the fire reflectively, and when she turned back to Blackie her expression was sorrowful. ‘How does one go on, Blackie? It’s so hard, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, but not impossible, Emma. Not for someone with your courage.’

‘I haven’t been very strong these past few weeks,’ she said drearily.

‘You can’t rush it, Emma. You’ll have a lot of readjusting to do. You must give yourself time, darlin’.’

‘However did you manage after Laura died?’ she asked.

‘I sometimes wondered that myself at the time.’ He smiled faintly. ‘After I went back to the front I tried my damnedest to catch a bullet, to get myself killed. But the good Lord protected me from me own foolishness. After the war it took me a long time to forgive myself for being alive, but once I did I started to live again. I looked around and became aware of my responsibilities, my duty to Bryan. He was a great help, Emma. A great source of sustenance. As Daisy will be for you. That child, of all your children, is the most like you in character. She understands you and she worships you, mavourneen.’

‘Yes, I know,’ Emma responded quietly, and looked away again. ‘I just-just-just don’t know how I can go on without Paul.’

Blackie took her hand and held it tightly. ‘You can, darlin’. You will. The human soul has great fortitude.’ He paused and his black eyes swept over her piteous face. He said gently, ‘Do you remember what Laura said to you when she was dying? I’ve never forgotten the words since you repeated them to me, and they have helped me many times. Do you remember what she said about death, Emma?’

Emma nodded. ‘Yes, I remember her words as if she had spoken them only yesterday. Laura said there was no such thing as death in her lexicon, and that as long as I lived and you lived she would live, too, for we would carry the memory of her in our hearts for ever.’

Blackie said, ‘Aye, mavourneen, and she was a wise lady, my Laura. She truly believed that, as I have come to believe it, and as you must. It will help you, I know. And just as I have Bryan, you have Paul’s daughter. She is part of his flesh, part of him, and you must cleave to that and take strength from it.’

His words seemed to give her comfort and so he continued. ‘You also told me Laura said God doesn’t give us a burden that is too heavy to bear. She was right, Emma. Think on that.’ He sighed under his breath. ‘I know you are heartbroken and that you feel lost and alone. But none of us are alone, Emma. We all have God, and God has helped me over the years. Why don’t you try Him on for size?’

Emma’s eyes widened. ‘You know I don’t believe in God.’

Observing the look on her face, Blackie refrained from making any further comments and wisely talked of other things.

But later, when he left Emma’s house, Blackie walked to the Brompton Oratory. He crossed himself on entering that fine old church, sat down in a pew, and lifted his face to the altar. And he prayed to God to give Emma comfort and courage in her crushing loss, and he prayed for her soul.

Before she went to bed that night, Emma sat at the window in her bedroom for several hours, dwelling on those words of Laura’s. The sky was a peculiar cobalt blue, clear yet intense, and shining with hundreds of stars, and a pale silver moon rode high in the heavens. Its beauty was so perfectly revealed to her it made her catch her breath and she suddenly had the most overwhelming sense of the Infinite. It was a feeling she had never experienced before and she was strangely moved as she sat gazing at that incredible night sky. And then it seemed to her that Paul was with her in the room. And she thought: But of course he is, for he is in my heart always. And she drew strength from this knowledge, and that night she slept a deep and untroubled sleep.

Two days later Emma received a letter from Paul. It had been posted the day before his death and it had taken three weeks to arrive. She looked at it for a long time before she finally found the courage to slit open the envelope and take out the letter.

My dearest darling Emma:

You are my life. I cannot live without my life. But I cannot live with you. And so I must end my miserable existence, for there is no future for us together now. Lest you think my suicide an act of weakness, let me reassure you that it is not. It is an act of strength and of will, for by committing it I gratefully take back that control over myself which I have lost in the past few months. It is a final act of power over my own fate.

It is the only way out for me, my love, and I will die with your name on my lips, the image of you before my eyes, my love for you secure in my heart always. We have been lucky, Emma. We have had so many good years together and shared so much, and the happy memories are alive in me, as I know they are in you, and will be as long as you live. I thank you for giving me the best years of my life.

I did not send for you because I did not want you to be tied to a helpless cripple, if only for a few months at the most. Perhaps I was wrong. On the other hand, I want you to remember me as I was, and not what I have become since the accident. Pride? Maybe. But try to understand my reasons, and try, my darling, to find it in your heart to forgive me.

I have great faith in you, my dearest Emma. You are not faint of heart. You are strong and dauntless, and you will go on courageously. You must. For there is our child to consider. She is the embodiment of our love, and I know you will cherish and care for her, and bring her up to be as brave and as stalwart and as loving as you are yourself. I give her into your trust, my darling.

By the time you receive this I will be dead. But I will live on in Daisy. She is your future now, my Emma. And mine.