Nicholas cranked the engine and the car spluttered into life. He climbed in beside her and offered her a rug, which she silently accepted. Soon they were leaving the small town behind them and were driving along the narrow, undulating roads of the countryside. Rose fought hard to suppress the happy memories of their last trip together by channelling all her emotions into staring straight ahead and reminding herself how humiliated she felt at being a pawn in his silly little game.
‘Where are we going?’ she asked grudgingly.
‘To Daymer Bay.’
Rose closed her eyes, recalling the long stretch of sand, backed by sand dunes threaded with reedy grass. The last time she had seen it was on a bus outing organised by the Church. The only remaining seat on the charabanc was the one next to her and Sam had taken it. During the journey he had made several attempts to coax her into a conversation. By the time they had reached Daymer Bay, he had wheedled his way into her trust and they had spent a blissful day together walking along the beach. It was the first day of a courtship that brought light and joy into her life. She so badly needed it. Rumours had begun to circulate that the earlier newspaper reports on Britain’s successes along the Western Front had been fabricated — as the truth was tooappalling to bear. Her brother had died, but there was still no end in sight.
‘Why Daymer Bay?’
‘It is where he suggested you meet.’
Rose turned sharply. ‘He? Who are you taking me to meet?’
A sense of fear swept through her. Nicholas would not look at her — could not look at her.
‘Nicholas?’
Nicholas’s grip on the wheel tightened. ‘I am taking you to meet Sam.’
Rose stared back at him, her mouth open, her body frozen and her mind struck dumb as if by a bolt from the sky. It was impossible. Was he mad?
Nicholas continued to stare at the road ahead. ‘Sam is alive, Rose.’
The world that had made sense only minutes before distorted about her. She replayed the words he had just clinically delivered as if he had rehearsed them many times before.
‘Alive?’
Nicholas dared to look at her. The fallout of his admission must have showed on her face as he hastily looked away again to stare at the road ahead. ‘He left the army without authorised permission and is living in Bristol.’
The journey jolted her body, the engine noise rumbled on, but Rose felt no part of it. She should feel euphoric that he was alive, but the shock was too great and churned up too many questions. Nicholas’s hand briefly touched both of hers, dragging her from her blank thoughts. ‘Do you understand what I have just told you? Rose?’
Dazed, Rose nodded. ‘You are telling me that he deserted,’ she mumbled.
Nicholas did not reply.
‘Thatiswhat you are telling me, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, but he was ill at the time.’
‘He’s a deserter.’
Every part of her body felt stiff and stilted. Nicholas turned the wheel and drove the car into a passing place by the side of the road. It bumped over the ruts before finally coming to a hasty halt. Nicholas took one of her hands in his.
‘Rose, listen to me. Sam was suffering from shell shock at the time. He had become a shadow of his former self. I know it sounds bad, but try to understand that it was a desperate act carried out by a desperate man.’
Rose looked at the hand holding hers. Nicholas had been there. If he understood Sam’s actions, who was she to refuse to try? Yet with no knowledge of what it was truly like on the Western Front, it was difficult to know where to begin. She turned her gaze away, but Nicholas would not let her hide and lifted a gloved finger to raise her chin so she was encouraged to look at him.
‘Sam didn’t need to come here today. He is risking everything if you were to tell the authorities. He would be hauled before the firing squad . . . and perhaps me too for abetting him.’
‘Then why are you telling me now?’
‘Because Sam is coming between us. I promised him I would give you the Christmas you deserve. My intentions were good, but it now risks ruining something that could be beautiful between us. I didn’t know what else to do.’
Rose withdrew her hand from beneath his. ‘All this time you both let me believe he was dead.’ Rose gasped. ‘His mother! She should know.’
A breeze lifted a strand of her hair across her cheek. Nicholas gently brushed it away. ‘She already knows. He wrote to her. It is why she left Wadebridge. She followed him to Bristol.’
‘Why didn’t they tell me?’
