Hey everyone! Thanks for reading! Be patient though there might be a surprise or two coming up in the next few chapters. xxx
I walked through the doors to the nursing home, towards the check-in station and started my twelve-hour shift.
"So, did you dream about him again last night?" Marlena asked with a sigh.
Marlena was a seventy-year-old English woman who had moved to the Nursing home after her grandson left to fight in Europe. Her skin was pale and wrinkly and her hair was short and grey. Her eyes were wide and blue and her smile was warm and toothy. She made her way around the nursing home in an old rickety wheelchair and often made comments about the cafeteria food.
"Yes," I nodded. "but it was different this time." I frowned.
"How so?" Marlena asked, running her fingers through her grey tresses.
"Well, instead of meeting him at Ypres, this time I found him on the beach at Dunkirk, only he didn't know who I was." I swallowed.
Since I returned from France, I had been having a reoccurring dream where Harry and I would meet outside the hospital tent at Ypres and walk to Dunkirk together. In the dream, Esma hadn't died neither had Pete or Fergus.
Last night though, the dream was more of a nightmare. I ran across the shores of Dunkirk beach calling for Harry. I ran for hours and hours, but when I finally found him, he had no clue who I was. I jolted awake, tears were streaming down my face and my clothes were damp from sweat. I didn't and couldn't go back to sleep.
"They're only dreams my dear." Marlena reached out and caressed my cheek.
"I know, I just can't help but feel as if they mean something. I don't know, maybe I'm reading too much into this." I replied with a shrug.
"You miss him, it's only normal." She grinned sympathetically.
When I first got my job at the nursing home a month ago, Marlena had accidentally walked in on me crying in the staff bathroom. For the first time since I returned from France, I spoke to her about Harry and everything that had happened over there. I poured my soul and feelings out to Marlena, seeking comfort in her kindness and wisdom, it somehow reassured me.
I attempted a smile. "How about we go for some lunch?" I took hold of the handlebars and wheeled Marlena to the cafeteria.
The rest of my shift went quick, I fed and washed multiple patients then left at eight o'clock.
"Hello, my little butterfly." My mother pulled me into her arms as I walked through the door. "How was work?" She asked, squeezing me tight. "Were the old people nice to you today?" She grinned.
"Yes mama, they always are." I hugged her back and buried my face into her hair dark hair.
"I'm making ratatouille." She cheered, waltzing into the kitchen barefoot. She was wearing a tight black dress that hugged at her full and curvaceous figure and a thin red apron which wrapped around her waist. She danced towards the kitchen, clapping her hands to the beat of a French tune which played on the record player.
I envied my mother, despite everything that she'd been through she still remained the happy and cheerful person that I'd always known. She had a young and lively soul, something i wish i still possessed.
"Where'd you get the ingredients?" I followed her.
"A little corner store selling overpriced vegetables." She smirked, stirring a large pot.
"Mama," I sighed with a grin. "We're supposed to be saving our money, remember?" I sat down on a nearby chair, slipping my shoes off.
Sometimes I felt like the mother in our relationship.
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Romance'The most deadly and violent war in human history. Soldiers believed they were running towards their enemy when truly, they were running into the open arms of death. ' British/French combat nurse Lianna Beauchamp is thrown into a difficult situation...