Wildflowers In The Ruins: A 1917 Story

Chapter Thirteen. Heart's Ease

Saturday April 7th, 1917:

Being as discreet as possible, Will and myself fell in step side-by-side. Noticing he had a better knowledge of how to skirt round the Second Devon's camp, all he said was,"we'll head for the river. Stay close by me and if anyone asks let me do the talking."
"Yes," I replied quietly, then sensing my eyes on him as we strolled along, he added, "don't be offended Jane, it's just I know how an officer's mind works."
"No, I understand," I whispered as we came to the outer edge of the trenches.

Skirting round the mess tent, and knowing a soldier's appetite, I needed to ask him, "Will, are you hungry? I can wait somewhere if you need to go and eat."
He reached over towards me then, stopping and staring directly at the tent but speaking quietly in my ear,"can you get me food where we're headed? If so, I can wait."
"Of course," I told him, before adding, "remember, there's chocolate too."
He smiled down at me with his lips closed as we continued our journey taking the long route round, partly concealed by a steep ridge aligned with sweet chestnut trees. As we crept vigilantly towards the river in a companiable silence, I prayed in my head:
"Dear God,
Thank you for keeping us safe and bringing us together.
Please continue to do so and for me to get Will safely back to the Newfoundland's camp.
Amen."
After a while the embankment grew more dense with trees as it's slope steepened. Precariously, diagonally veering off to our right, we headed down towards the river.

Turning to Will, I smiled encouragingly, "Croisilles Wood, now." His face had suddenly become set, his eyes pools of ink darting around: "Jane, let's not go down to the river here. We'll follow the ridge a little longer."
Trusting him and searching his face, I half-smiled, "of course."
Perhaps he'd seen or done something on his journey to this point that he wanted to protect me from. Whatever it was, I felt I didn't need to know. Gauging it was best not to ask anyway, we carried on, weaving through the trees. Then noticing the imposing fir only a hundred yards or so on the opposite riverbank, it's wide leaves flat, as if they were hands catching the sunlight, I added, "that fir and weeping willow next to it are directly across from whence I came up to the camp."
Will didn't say a word, just nodded solemnly. He had so much to process in his mind.
This river he'd been in.
Deciding not to make small talk, or any talk for that matter, I lead our way.

Realising I had my steel helmet back on and Will was obviously missing his, I removed it immediately and proffered it to him.
"What's this?" he frowned.
"You need it more than me. Here, take it. It's yours, my love."
Will took a firm step backwards.
"Oh no, no," he told me firmly, "you need that, keep it on Jane."
"But Will," I reasoned, "let's be honest, you're nearly a head taller than me. Besides, I WANT you to have it." I felt like adding, "I'd give you this and risk my life for you, I would die for you Will," but his no-nonsense expression of clouded features and pursed lips told me otherwise.
"Jane, no. No thank you" his words were kind, yet I could sense that peturbedness, almost like when he'd had a go at Blake after we'd escaped the German bunker. When he spoke again his words softened, back to the Will I knew and loved, "I'm sorry. You keep that helmet on, please... for me." In just two strides he was up close now, his midnight-blue eyes gazing down into my deep olive ones. There was a look of desperation, of anxiousness showing on his face. Glancing up at him, my heart quickening it's beat, I answered,"alright. I shall... for you."
Placing it back on my head, I noticed Will's features relaxing once more now. His eyes lowered as he began to smile, again with his mouth closed, then his eyes raised again to meet mine. Us both unblinking with the toes of our shoes almost touching. He took my right hand in his left and brought it up to his mouth, lightly brushing his lips against my fingers. Feeling the clean cotton bandage brushing my palm, he then lowered our hands back down together, keeping a gentle hold on mine.
His right hand came into the small of my back, grazing it softly with his knuckles. Bringing my left hand up to his shoulder, my fingertips followed the seam of coarse khaki fabric, up to his collar, then his soft jawline. Softly holding his cheek, my hand barely cupped, we were so close to each other now.
"My Jane," he whispered, staring down at me, "my sweet."
Oh how wonderful to hear those words coming from the man I truly loved.
"My beloved, my Will," I almost purred. He closed his eyes in pleasure.
The only sounds audable now were the river gently trickling along and a skylark somewhere up above our heads. Will's breathing was light as I felt his right thigh rest on my abdomen, his knee inching between my legs. His eyes opened to absorb me. Perhaps this could be the moment, it all felt delicious, precious even.
Oh, how beautiful it really was here.
Our perfect place.
Leaning forward, our eyes both gently closed in unison. Waiting for his lips on mine...
CRACK!
Will spun round, his hands throwing me into him yet behind protectively.
Another crack, then a gentle thud.
Will's head turned, searching in every direction, his breathing quickened, and I remembered how he'd had to live. Always ready for combat, never ceasing his high alert.
Neither of us had any weapons!
I wouldn't know how to use a gun anyway!
Then I glimpsed the source.
"Will, look," I gasped, pointing up the embankment diagonally to our right.
A deer, fallow with a beige fur speckled with honey smudges on it's rump stared directly at us. It's cream antlers beginning to emerge upwards, showing it's youth. The deer padded the ground for a few seconds, it's giant sable-brown eyes weighing us up, before turning and bounding back up the hill and out of sight through the trees.