He sat down with the elegance and domination of a lion returning to his home territory. Oddly, she didn’t mind, only felt ashamed she had not offered him a chair earlier.
‘I was wounded crossing the front line.’
‘Oh!’
‘Not badly, but enough to be sent home.’
A silence descended as she served up the soup. Her confidence in her meal plummeted when she saw the base of the pan coated in black, burnt soup. ‘And then what?’
He frowned, unsure what she meant.
‘Did you return to Cornwall like you hoped to do one day?’
They had shared many thoughts on their journey home, and from his expression it appeared he’d forgotten this particular dream of his.
‘I didn’t think you would remember that.’
‘Of course I would. Why wouldn’t I?’
Sam shrugged. ‘Because I only remember you and not me.’
Elsa turned, holding the two bowls of soup, but she did not put them on the table.I know what you mean, she wanted to say.My memories are of you.Your face. Your hands. Your voice. Your touch.She realized Sam was talking again.
‘Yes, I returned to Cornwall. I’m a builder now. The owner of the business is getting old and wants to hand over the reins when he retires. He has hinted that he wants me to carry on.’
‘But you wanted to be a vet.’
He looked up. ‘I lost the will to try. I lost the will for many things after the war.’
She watched his lips moving as he spoke. She understood. War took years to recover from, if at all. She found herself wondering if he still kissed like he used to.
‘You are going to spill the soup.’
‘That’s nice.’
She could see her answer confused him.
‘Elsa, the soup!’ He suddenly stood and took the bowls from her. She noticed there were black bits floating to the top and realized he’d seen them too.
‘I’m sorry. You have travelled all the way here and I serve you burnt soup.’ She took the bowls from him and poured it back into the pan.
‘It doesn’t matter. I’ve already eaten anyway.’
She dumped the bowls into the washing up bowl. ‘Don’t lie to make me feel better.’
‘Okay, I won’t. It looked and smelled awful.’
She found herself smiling despite her failure. ‘But training to be a vet was important to you.’
‘Finding you was more important to me.’
‘Look at me.’ She spread her trembling fingers out as she stared at them. ‘I can’t stop shaking.’
‘That’s my fault.’
‘I can’t even heat soup.’
He took her arm and turned her to face him. ‘I didn’t come for your soup... or anybody else’s soup.’
