again, in that moment. ‘I should bloody hope so, after you traipsing all this way,’ he said. ‘And just imagine how cross the parents would be if I got shot tomorrow, on their wedding anniversary. It would really put a wrinkle in the celebrations.’
‘Can’t have that,’ I agreed, trying not to flinch at the word
shot,
and feeling a faint pang at the thought of life continuing its familiar path in the house where I’d grown up. ‘Although, when the story comes out about the…the pregnancy…’ I stumbled over the word ‘…I have a feeling that will more than wrinkle things. Don’t you?’
There was nothing he could say to that, and he simply squeezed my hand again. After a moment’s silence, Jack motioned to the door. ‘It’s time we were off, Kitty.’
I turned to Oli and put my arms around him. He felt small, suddenly, even to me. ‘It will all be all right,’ I whispered. ‘Please don’t worry. I love you.’
‘I love you too,’ he whispered back, and I was sure if he’d spoken the words any louder they would have cracked.
Jack was right; telling him my story first, in the quiet little office where only he could hear me, made it easier to speak out at the court martial. I could see people studying me intently—my dress, my shoes, my manner—and was grateful for the advice given by Lizzy and Frances. I was not slim and pretty, like Evie, my hair was a tangled mess of red curls despite my attempts to tame it, and my figure, although I’d lost weight since I’d joined up, was still more on the rounded side—I was clearly not a temptress, and therefore my words seemed to carry more weight. That shouldn’t have been the case, and it angered me that it was, but it was a relief nevertheless. I kept looking around for Archie, hoping Jack’s explanation that there was a push on had merely been preparing Oli for potential disappointment, but I didn’t see him anywhere. His presence as I gave my evidence would have given me extra strength, but perhaps my timidity also worked in my favour.
Jack’s own evidence as to Drewe’s character was honest and raw; he told of his deep respect, and of the sadness as he’d watched Drewe slide into morphine dependency. To hear then, that that dependency had sunk deeper than any of them had realised, had shaken Jack, but the medical evidence was inarguable, and the post-mortem report bore out Evie’s suspicions; Lieutenant Colonel Drewe had been on the verge of that heart attack for a long time, and it might have happened at any moment. The verdict was delivered quickly: not guilty of murder, but guilty of manslaughter. The circumstances would now be taken into account, and we sat in frozen silence while we waited for the sentence to be pronounced.
It did not take long. Oliver would be stripped of his commission and given a dishonourable discharge from the army, to serve a ten-year sentence in a civilian prison. Cashiered. Not shot. My heart hammered almost painfully as I felt all the strength drain out of me, and I slumped in my seat. The release of tension was making me shake, and all I could do was fix my eyes on the back of the seat in front, and listen to the chant echoing loudly in my head.
Thank God, thank God, thank God…
I felt the gentle pressure of Jack’s hand on my arm. ‘Sit up straight, love, and give him a smile to see him back to Blighty.’
Somehow I did so, and realised Oli’s attention had been fixed on me anxiously. He nodded as our eyes met, his face pale, but he returned my smile. ‘Come and see me,’ he mouthed, as he was led away.
Jack stood, and drew me to my feet. ‘Come on, I can think of one or two people who’ll want to hear this news.’
‘Are we going to see Archie?’ I heard my voice thicken as I spoke his name, and my pulse picked up in sudden hope, but he shook his head.
‘He really is rotated forward,’ he said. ‘I wasn’t just saying that for your brother’s benefit. We’ll wire him the verdict.
‘Can’t have that,’ I agreed, trying not to flinch at the word
shot,
and feeling a faint pang at the thought of life continuing its familiar path in the house where I’d grown up. ‘Although, when the story comes out about the…the pregnancy…’ I stumbled over the word ‘…I have a feeling that will more than wrinkle things. Don’t you?’
There was nothing he could say to that, and he simply squeezed my hand again. After a moment’s silence, Jack motioned to the door. ‘It’s time we were off, Kitty.’
I turned to Oli and put my arms around him. He felt small, suddenly, even to me. ‘It will all be all right,’ I whispered. ‘Please don’t worry. I love you.’
‘I love you too,’ he whispered back, and I was sure if he’d spoken the words any louder they would have cracked.
Jack was right; telling him my story first, in the quiet little office where only he could hear me, made it easier to speak out at the court martial. I could see people studying me intently—my dress, my shoes, my manner—and was grateful for the advice given by Lizzy and Frances. I was not slim and pretty, like Evie, my hair was a tangled mess of red curls despite my attempts to tame it, and my figure, although I’d lost weight since I’d joined up, was still more on the rounded side—I was clearly not a temptress, and therefore my words seemed to carry more weight. That shouldn’t have been the case, and it angered me that it was, but it was a relief nevertheless. I kept looking around for Archie, hoping Jack’s explanation that there was a push on had merely been preparing Oli for potential disappointment, but I didn’t see him anywhere. His presence as I gave my evidence would have given me extra strength, but perhaps my timidity also worked in my favour.
Jack’s own evidence as to Drewe’s character was honest and raw; he told of his deep respect, and of the sadness as he’d watched Drewe slide into morphine dependency. To hear then, that that dependency had sunk deeper than any of them had realised, had shaken Jack, but the medical evidence was inarguable, and the post-mortem report bore out Evie’s suspicions; Lieutenant Colonel Drewe had been on the verge of that heart attack for a long time, and it might have happened at any moment. The verdict was delivered quickly: not guilty of murder, but guilty of manslaughter. The circumstances would now be taken into account, and we sat in frozen silence while we waited for the sentence to be pronounced.
It did not take long. Oliver would be stripped of his commission and given a dishonourable discharge from the army, to serve a ten-year sentence in a civilian prison. Cashiered. Not shot. My heart hammered almost painfully as I felt all the strength drain out of me, and I slumped in my seat. The release of tension was making me shake, and all I could do was fix my eyes on the back of the seat in front, and listen to the chant echoing loudly in my head.
Thank God, thank God, thank God…
I felt the gentle pressure of Jack’s hand on my arm. ‘Sit up straight, love, and give him a smile to see him back to Blighty.’
Somehow I did so, and realised Oli’s attention had been fixed on me anxiously. He nodded as our eyes met, his face pale, but he returned my smile. ‘Come and see me,’ he mouthed, as he was led away.
Jack stood, and drew me to my feet. ‘Come on, I can think of one or two people who’ll want to hear this news.’
‘Are we going to see Archie?’ I heard my voice thicken as I spoke his name, and my pulse picked up in sudden hope, but he shook his head.
‘He really is rotated forward,’ he said. ‘I wasn’t just saying that for your brother’s benefit. We’ll wire him the verdict.
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