In the Lion's Den

Shell Shock

Wednesday, August 6th, 1919 - Simon

Simon couldn't have told how long it had taken for his tears to finally cease, nor how many times he had had to blow his nose in the small feminine handkerchief Bess had quietly passed over to him when she had long stopped crying, but when the last tears had dried up, his head felt strangely light and clear.

Awfully tired as well, but there was too much to talk about before he could give in to the wish to sleep.

He looked up to Bess who had been leaning against his shoulder and seemed to be quite tired as well.

She was truly a most remarkable woman and he swore to himself that he would do whatever he could to keep her friendship, even though nothing else might ever come of it.

Although just the feeling of her fingers entwined provoked every wish of much more coming of it.

"I'm so sorry for lashing out at you. I was in a terrible state of mind."

"It's alright, Simon. You needed it."

"What do you mean?"

"I ... I don't really know, but... when I treated patients with shellshock, sometimes they needed to be angry before they could feel anything else again..."

"Do you... think I'm shell shocked?"

"I... no, Simon, that was just an analogy... I'm sorry if I implied..."

"I was the one implying. You know, I've been wondering if it could be that. Do you think one can be shell shocked when the symptoms don't really relate to the trenches?"

"I'm not sure. I guess, if someone lived something that is as terrifying as the trenches were, they might develop similar symptoms. What is it exactly that you've been experiencing?"

"Well, it actually just started now, since I'm being kept in this damn cellar. My mind seems to jump around in time, suddenly I feel myself being a boy again, living through things I thought I had long put behind me. When you left, yesterday, I relived the time after my parents died."

"You felt as though you were losing them again."

He nodded.

"Them and my nanny at the time. You know it's odd, I never really thought about it, but somehow, your parents and you feel like the family I lost before. And if what I told you made you walk away from me, I was sure your parents would show the same reaction."

"Oh Simon, dear. They would never. They love you like the son they never had. You know that, do you not?"

The tears that he thought had dried for good, were threatening to come back, when he considered what she had just said.

Yes, they had treated him very kindly, more than kindly. Bess' Mother, Clarissa Crawford had saved his life in Rulumpur, and her father, Colonel Richard Crawford, well, their relationship had always been more than just that of a Colonel and his batman, but...

"But... I... don't deserve it... not with the way I have deceived you all..."

"Simon, I know they never showed it, never told you, they are British after all, but they love, and they won't leave you just because you didn't tell us about your past."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Yes, I am."

Her hand had found its way through the iron bars and was caressing his back reassuringly.

"Actually, I think they found out some of it on their own, not about the contract, but about how your parents died, for instance, but they decided not to confront you with it, I think they didn't want to disconcert you."

"But they told you?"

"No, not until lately. And I think they wouldn't have if I had stumbled over part of it, back in Yorkshire. That's what I wanted to talk to you about last Saturday, but... well, you didn't show up, did you?"

"I had every intention to show up, you know that, don't you?"

"Yes, don't worry."

"So you know about South Africa and that my parents died there in a carriage accident?"

She nodded and added: "And about you being taken to live with your grandfather, whom your mother was afraid of, although no one told me his name, which is why I didn't make the connection directly."

"You couldn't have. Not even by the name they probably used to refer to me. Simon is my middle name, actually. Marcus the first, although my parents never used it, they probably just gave it to me to appease the old man. And when I came to live with him, he told me I was a Sinclair now. He wanted me to forget about my father. But I didn't."

"Papa told me that he was a very fine officer, your father."

"I suppose he was. And I always knew I wanted to be like him. Even more so, the more I understood the old man detested him."

Bess smiled at him.

"I didn't know your father of course, but with all I've heard, he certainly would have been proud of what you achieved."

He was afraid that if he heard anything more, he'd be overcome by emotion again. So he just pressed her hand and smiled back at her.

"Thank you, Bess."

They passed some minutes sitting in companionable silence.

Then Bess stirred, and something in her expression changed in a way that usually told him that she wanted to say something, but was not sure how to start it.

So he put his own deliberations on how and if to ask her about her feelings concerning the kiss aside, and said:

"What is it?"

"Would you... ehm... tell me about Marianne? I mean, if you don't mind me asking..."

He could sense her insecurity.

"I don't mind you asking, no. But are you sure you want to know?"

She put on a brave face and nodded.

"I will not run away again, I swear."

"I didn't think you would." He smiled.

"It is just that... I really like he, but since I know I have no idea how to talk to her, what to say. She was the one who asked me to look for you, did you know?"

"I didn't."

"She and Lady Beatrice. Lady Beatrice because she was suspicious of you, and Marianne because she was worried for you. She... seems to be quite attached to you, actually."

"Did you tell her you found me?"

"No, not yet. That's what I meant, I didn't want to tell her before I knew if you even wanted her to know you're here. And I don't think she knows that you voided the contract and believes that if I found you, well... you see what I mean, don't you?"

He nodded.

"It's probably for the better that you haven't told her yet."

"It's her you met when you were in Scotland, back in march, isn't it?"

He nodded again and remembered how it had been, in Scotland, back in march.