Wildflowers In The Ruins: A 1917 Story

Chapter Twelve. Violets

Saturday April 7th, 1917:

It could only be him.
Lance Corporal William Schofield.
Taking quiet steps towards the tree, as the Sun continued to rise, bathing us both in a golden light, I didn't wish to startle him, but at the same time questioned how this reunion could swing one of two ways:
Firstly, he could be shocked I was here and order me back to the Newfoundland's immediately, dismissing me as a brief flirtation, or...
He could be overjoyed to see me here and, well, I didn't know what to dream of would then happen.

Realistically, I had no idea what Will had to endure to get to the Second Devons from when we parted ways yesterday afternoon. It was possible he'd seen and done things in that time which could've had a profound effect on him and the last thing I wanted was to create further upset and discord.
I must tread carefully.

Taking my arc wide around the base of the tree, so as not to cast a shadow, I observed how peaceful he appeared. Will's back rested against the bleached wood of the oak bark with his left leg bent up to the chest and his right one outstretched. Bandaged left hand still clutching the photos, which I wasn't quite close enough to observe the content of, his right rested on the lush grass at his thigh. William's head tipped back slightly, reminding me of when I bathed his dust-filled eyes yesterday. They were now lightly closed.
He slept.
Chest softly rising and falling, I felt it a great shame to awaken him, yet here he was, safe and protected.
Brought back to me.
Thank you God...and
thank you, dear Tom.
Something strange though: no helmet, rifle, tunic, webbing or bags.
They'd all vanished, leaving my William in his basic soldier's clothing, slightly damp-smelling and patched with the chalk dust of the Second Devon's trenches.
He didn't stir as my tiptoes made away from the arc now, straight towards him but, even in repose, his physical strength was evident.

This was a William Schofield in a countenance I'd never seen before. He was no longer on high alert, finally with his features relaxed. My breath caught in my chest with each soft step at the realisation it really WAS him, my love, brought to me.
Contemplating how to wake him, how to present myself to him, I finally decided to surprise him in the gentlest of ways. He must rest now, so... gradually bringing myself down to my knees, I decided to rest alongside him.

Once on the grass, I stealthily removed my helmet and bags, laying them on the soft grass, before arranging my frock and apron in a circle of dusty powder-blue and white cotton over my feet. Then, sliding my arms out to my left, brought my head and body down to the ground. My hands together, as if in prayer, I placed under my head. Here I would lie, at my beloved's feet, just until he awoke.

No-one was near, just the distant sounds of voices underlayed with skylarks chirping. A slight breeze blew at my fringe, coaxing it away from my forehead.

"Thank you Lord," I prayed silently, "for taking care of William," and then gradually closing my eyelids I contentedly waited.

Hearing the grass move, I slowly opened my eyes, Will's feet seemed closer than I thought, but his right foot slid away from me now, up towards his chest.
"Jane?" I heard him whisper.
Keeping my head over my hands, I turned it up towards his face, my eyes gazing up at him. Then, blinking slowly, I replied quietly, "yes, I didn't wish to startle you."
His face held an expression of utter shock yet wonder, mouth turned up slightly at the corners and eyes wide.
"My Jane, is it really you? Am I dreaming?" he whispered, slightly louder now, "how did you find me?"
Rising to sit upright, I could see for the very first time he smiled. The deepest of dimples was revealed in his left cheek as his lovely teeth gently showed themselves.

Feeling heat flush my cheeks and my heart flutter in such a way I wanted to leap into the air, I averted my eyes to his worn boots as shyness overcame me: "yes, this is no apparition, no dream. I'm here plain as day. I could not rest until I knew you were safe. So... well, I walked along the river to here from the Newfoundland's. Then um... I traced your steps along the trench. Erm, forgive me Sir, I know you said you'd find me, but..." My words trailed off as I simply couldn't meet his gaze.
Changing tack and trying to sound upbeat, I clasped my hands together,
" well done reaching Coronel Mackenzie. You've done so incredibly well. I am proud of you Will."