Between The Devil and a Good Man

Chapter Two

London had been everything he expected and more.

A stillness had descended upon the entire country in the aftermath of the war as everyone readjusted to life without the threat of the enemy so close to home. The men who returned settled slowly into life at home though their minds were still on the battlefield. And the women who they had returned home to tried to readjust to having them back, the changes in their husbands, sons, and brothers being noticeable. But with the calmness of the world now, there was a sense of excitement almost trying to burst out of the seams as the new generation became old enough to understand the potential of the country they lived in.

Tommy had found himself travelling early one morning on the canal, navigated by Charlie Strong, and headed to London. He had found himself unable to sleep, a whirring sense of apprehension in his stomach. He had tried to reassure his exhausted mind, but it seemed to be racing at the thought of seeing her again.

Aunt Pol had questioned him as to why he was heading to London, and he simply answered that it was for a potential business venture. He wanted to be as vague as he could with her, knowing that if he tried to explain himself more, he would begin to ramble, and she would know with just a glance. He had always been honest with her, but this was private. He had kept it private for a reason, he didn't want to explain to anyone about his letters to Rose, or the fact that he relied so heavily upon her words to comfort him when the darkness in his heart dulled the happiness he should be feeling. Nothing and no one seemed to make him happy, and all hope within his heart was gone.

He had told Charlie about where he was heading and why it meant so much to him, and Charlie had simply nodded in his direction. He knew that Tommy never did anything he wasn't sure of. His actions were from the heart, no matter what.

"Are you... doing okay?" Charlie had asked him a short time later, and Tommy had been quick to answer that he was in fact fine and never better. But it was a second later that he retracted it and spoke honestly to his uncle about his struggles.

"I have nightmares," Tommy spoke quietly, avoiding his uncle's gaze. His brow furrowed as to whether he wanted to open up to him, knowing that there was a long journey ahead of them, or keep the truth as sugar coated as possible. He hated showing weakness, and even though he knew it was perfectly okay to not be okay, he still hated bearing his soul.

Charlie sensed the hesitation in his words and the silence that followed, and simply said: "You've been to war, Tommy. It's normal to feel this way, but you can talk to us about what happened over there, you know?"

Tommy had nodded after a moment, grateful. And so, he opened the wounds he had tried so desperately to heal before their time. The mental scars ached for as long as he could remember, and he felt as though his mind would never heal. The sounds he would hear when no one else could frightened him to his very core.

"I take opium to fall asleep," Tommy continued, his voice low and embarrassed. "It's the only way I can calm myself without drinking myself into an oblivion. But it's not strong enough to keep the nightmares at bay."

"How long have you been having them?"

Tommy looked at him and shrugged. "It's been a long time there, Charlie. Could probably tell you when I haven't had them."

"Does your Aunt Pol know?" Charlie asked, concerned.

"It wouldn't surprise me if she does," Tommy muttered. "But no. I've not told her, and I don't want you to, either."

"Got it," Charlie replied, respectfully. "But... you should tell her, Tom."

"No," Tommy's voice was stern then. "I don't want her to worry. She's only just got us back after so long. I can't have her know that I'm not coping."

Charlie fell silent at the sternness of his voice. He knew Tommy well, and he knew that Tommy would do what he needed to do when the time came for it. And for now, he would cope as best as he could with what he had, and if that was pretending to cope well with the aftermath of the war then that's what he would do. It was hard on them all, and Tommy knew that. His brother Arthur sought comfort in drink, his younger brother John found comfort in the warmth of the brothel, beckoning him in like a moth to a flame. And well he wrote down his feelings, cutting open the wounds and bleeding across the page metaphorically and showing Rose that he bled too.

The journey to London was a peaceful one, and one that he enjoyed as he came into the clearing of a new city. Smoke bellowed across the canal as Charlie navigated the boat and the goods into the correct position, and waved farewell to Tommy, calling out that he would return early on Monday morning for him.

Tommy pulled out his pocket watch and glanced at the time. It was nearing late afternoon and the sun was setting across the city, the journey into the capital having taken a few hours, and he found himself walking to the hospital she was working in. She was able to get the weekend off and had written about her excitement at having a couple of days to rest. He hailed down a taxi who drove him to the hospital, and he waited outside for a few moments.

He had questioned himself as to whether it was the right move and whether he was ready to see her again. But every answer he was drawn to was the one he wanted deep down. He needed to see her again.

And as she came out of the large doors to the hospital to find him stood there, he saw it written all over her face just how glad she was to see him again. And all the fear and uncertainty he felt grasp at his heart seeped away with the cool breeze that passed over them. She rushed to him and threw her arms around him, holding him tightly to her.

"It's so nice to see you," she whispered into his collar, her balance uneven due to being on her tiptoes and having to reach up to him. "You surprised me!"

"A good surprise?" his voice yearned for confirmation.

She pulled away from the hug and stared at him, her eyes scanning every detail of his face. It had been something she had thought of for a while, though her memory only served her with the recollections of him being injured and hurt which seemed to be too unbearable to think about.

"Of course!" she had stated happily. "You're everything I remember..."

And she was everything he remembered and more. The dark hair that he remembered being tied up was down and framing her face. Her skin was pale and speckled with freckles that adorned her face and hands, like tiny droplets of paint upon a painter's blank canvas. Her blue eyes shone brightly at him, and he was able to see the sadness knitted in her brow, the way her eyes stared intensely into his and how her smile never reached her eyes properly.

"So... London, aye?" he said, changing the subject. He noticed that she was still in his arms, and he faltered then and dropped his arms that were wrapped around her waist. She stepped backwards nodding at his question.

"I know," she said. "It's different from the small village I grew up in!"

"I bet," he smiled. "So, what do you do in London?"

"Other than working," she began before she mused over his question. "I like to go dancing. They have some wonderful places that play music I've never heard before, and it's just so... incredible."

A smirk played on his lips. "You know, I've never been dancing before."

Her eyes widened in shock. "It's magnificent. I'll have to take you sometime."

"I'll keep you to that," Tommy smiled.

As the sun began to set early in the month of January, they found themselves walking towards the place she was living in. The urge to show him the sights and sounds that London had to offer him was a prominent one but they both knew they were equally as tired, with Rose having just finished a long shift at the hospital, and Tommy having spent most of the day travelling to London. As she led him back to the house she lived in, where she had informed him that she was renting a room from a widowed woman called Henrietta who wasn't prepared to leave the house that had been her home for as long as she could remember. Though the house was old, and the wallpaper was peeling off some walls, it had quickly become her home and she enjoyed the company of Hettie.

Hettie had allowed her to live rent free for the first couple of weeks as she found her feet in her new job in return of company. She had found that she had a lot in common with the old woman, and on evenings when she would return home from work, Hettie would have a dinner cooked and ready for when she walked through the door. It was nice to have someone who cared for her, and who looked after her when all she wanted to do was curl up on the couch and collapse into a peaceful sleep.

"So, she's a little deaf," Rose informed Tommy. "But she'll have you singing to her in no time."

"I can't sing," Tommy replied to her, humour in his voice.

"Neither can I, but that doesn't stop her unfortunately," Rose giggled, wrapping her arms around her body to keep the warmth in. It had grown colder in the weeks after the Christmas holiday, and she had found herself struggling to keep warm. She would rush home from work quickly most evenings and find herself lying in front of the large fireplace to get warm. Hettie would bring her a hot cup of tea and a biscuit.

"Do you like it here?" Tommy asked as they turned the corner. He came to a halt, and when she realised that he wasn't following, she stopped also. She turned back to him and furrowed her brow.

She bit her lip thoughtfully. "Would it be wrong of me to say no?"

"Not at all," Tommy said with a shake of his head.

"The job... it pays well, for a woman, but..." Rose began, finding it difficult to word it properly.

"But it ain't the same as before," Tommy finished for her, and she nodded at his words.

"Before the war... I had so much hope for the world, you know? I was young, naïve. I believed that everything would fall into place, and there'd be times when I'd struggle through it all, but the struggle would be something that I would look back on when I was older and think, 'it wasn't always bad'," Rose explained, coming to stand in front of Tommy. She stared up at him and narrowed her gaze into his. Tommy felt the burn of her stare, but he kept his eyes upon hers. "And then the war was tougher than I ever expected. I wasn't on the frontline, no, but... I was the one trying to patch the wounds up that never seemed to stop bleeding, I closed the eyes of the men who died in my arms, I sent a prayer to the families back at home who had no idea their brother, father, son, was gone... and I don't feel that burning desire to help anyone anymore because I can't get over the ones I couldn't save over there."

Tommy didn't understand what washed over him in that moment, but he found himself pulling her to him. He wrapped his strong arms around her tightly and held her, feeling her heart beat furiously against his chest. He felt her hands move around him where she held onto his coat tightly for fear of becoming unsteady on her feet. Sobs escaped her, but he continued to hold her close.

And he knew in that moment that she had scars that no one else could see, just like he did.