Darkest Before Dawn Episode 10
That night she could hear Tilly tossing and turning in an effort to get into a comfortable position, then she heard the unmistakable sound of someone trying not to cry.
“Oh, Tilly,” she said as she went over to sit on her bed. “Are you feeling very poorly?”
“It’s not that,” Tilly whispered. “I miss Edward so much. I wish he was here.”
“You mustn’t be sad, Tilly. You can always talk to me. We’re sisters now. I miss Edward, too.”
“I’m scared I’ll lose the baby.” The floodgates opened and Tilly began to sob.
“You won’t,” Isobel said firmly. “Doctor Kirby is looking after you now. He won’t let anything happen.”
She held Tilly in her arms until her breathing slowed and she fell asleep.
Gently, Isobel tucked the blankets around her and crept back to her own bed.
On the bus the next day, Isobel leaned her forehead against the window, not really seeing the streets of London pass by.
She never once thought of John and how she was missing him.
Would it have been better if they’d been married, she wondered.
The bus stopped and a young soldier got on.
“May I?” he asked, indicating the seat next to Isobel.
“Oh, of course,” she said with a smile and he sat down.
“I’m Bob,” he told her. “I’ve just spent a couple of days with my family before heading off goodness knows where.”
There was no sadness in his eyes. He had the same keen look that Edward and John had had.
“Isobel,” she said. “Pleased to meet you, Bob.”
“That’s not a London accent,” he remarked.
“My dad moved our family here. He thought we weren’t safe on the coast after the bomber crashed on Clacton.”
He was so easy to talk to, but Isobel was disconcerted at just how much she was enjoying the attention.
Before she knew it, the bus was pulling in to her stop.
He stood to let her out of the seat.
“I have a while before I have to catch my train,” Bob told her. “Would you like to get a cup of tea?”
“It will have to be a quick one,” she said, and he followed her off the bus.
Isobel had to push her guilt to one side as they laughed over a cup of tea in the café near the store.
She hoped that anyone else would do the same for her brother and John, and spare them a few minutes of their time.
That was all it was, she told herself. Before the war, she wouldn’t have dreamed of having tea with a stranger, but everything had changed now.
As they left the café, he caught hold of her hand.
“May I write to you, Isobel?” he asked.
What harm would it do, she thought.
Her mother had told her that in the Great War people had written to men at the Front. It was a way of letting them know they hadn’t been forgotten.
“I’ll give you my aunt’s address,” she said.
When he’d written it down and put it in his pocket, he gave his chest a pat.
“Next to my heart,” he said, then brushed her cheek with his lips before turning and hurrying away.
She stood on the pavement for a moment, her fingers resting where his lips had touched.
With a shake of her shoulders, she hurried towards the store, head held high and shoulders as straight as a guardsman’s.
She gave the outward appearance of a confident young woman.
Inside, she was swirling with confused feelings.