Sweet Satisfaction (Purple UGC Winner 2014)

Sweet Satisfaction - Twenty-Seven

Twenty-Seven

May, 1915

The blossoms on the trees were showing their pink heads. The sun peeked out from its hiding place under the fluffy white clouds. The grass became greener. Or at least everyone hoped it did.

Despite these promising signs of spring, the country’s dull attitudes didn’t change. The British were apparently feeling rather crushed; the failed attack on the Dardanelles on March 18th, poison gas killing troops at Ypres on April 22nd and three days later, the Gallipoli campaign at Cape Helles was enough to make even me alarmed. I had recently decided to take more interest in the war, rather than being oblivious.

Many remarked this year was cursed since the sinking of HMS Formidable off Lyme Regis by a German Navy U-boat on New Year’s Day.

“Wasn’t very formidable then, was she?” Susanna sighed, tossing aside another newspaper, our main source of information.

She was meant to be helping me try on my new clothes. We didn’t feel like that when we had just read about rather more pressing matters. Father had found time to update my wardrobe for the new season when people were dying? Innocent people like Percy and Alice?

“I think I’ll just wear this one,” I decided. Susanna nodded absent-mindedly, then suddenly sat up straight, raising her eyebrows.

“Bobby doesn’t care about what you wear.”

“I don’t either,” I sighed, scolding myself for my hint of vanity when there were so many more serious things happening in the world.

Bobby and I met down by the beach. For some reason I felt quite coy. Seagulls cawed noisily, swooping low over our heads. The crunch of pebbles under our feet filled the silence for a while, until we reached a desolate part of the stretch. The last time I had seen him, the bridge had collapsed under us and I had accused him of having a fling with Beatrice.

“I hear you are engaged.” My affection for Bobby had grown and I swallowed hard. What did it matter to him if I were engaged? Did that silly kiss mean something to him as well? It was my first kiss…

Bobby took hold of my hands; his were blistered and calloused to remind me of how different our lives were. My heart beat faster and I was forced to look into his eyes- they were so kind, so calming, so caring,

“I am not jealous, Elsie.” He wasn’t even protesting.

“The man who is to be your husband is the luckiest man in Sussex, in England, in Europe, the whole world…” His voice became softer, a little croaky, and his strong arms pulled me in, close to his thumping chest. I could feel the sweat beneath his white shirt. I could feel his warm breath on my bowed head. Bobby had just made matters much more intense and both of us seemed to forget the impropriety of all this.

I wanted to close my eyes and let the dream begin- but how could I be so cruel?

“I can’t be yours,” I whispered because I knew that’s what he wanted, what would happen. The tears were coming, tears of horrible, horrible regret for everything.

“I used to be strong.”

All I was aware of was Bobby and I pressed close together with the sounds of the sea gently rocking in the background. I continued, voice hoarse.

“It was all after the King’s Lynn bombings. I…I was there. It made me realise how precious life is…”

Both my voice and body trembled. I had answered my own questions, changed my mind just like that. I let Bobby wrap his arms around me, lifting me onto my tiptoes.

“It wasn’t just the drink that made me kiss you the first time and I definitely don’t have affections for Beatrice,” he murmured.

“The first time?” I smiled, understanding what he was implying.

I closed my eyes and waited for the second kiss to come.