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IT HAD BEEN 6 years since Louise stepped foot on that hospital ship, 6 years since she was saved by Murphy and the Dawsons, 6 years since the first time she lost a patient, 6 years since Jack.
Jack kept his promise. He wrote to Louise as once as he arrived in Scotland. It was the first of many letters, but they were significantly reduced when he was sent back into the battlefield. Louise would send her letters to him while he was at war, and Jack kept all of them in the inner pocket of his jacket, right by his heart. As much as he wanted to write back, he never had the chance to do so.
The last time Louise heard of Jack was 2 years ago. She would write to Jack's mother, asking about Jack and if she had heard anything of him. But, she was in the dark about her son too.
It broke Louise's heart to think that Jack could be captured by the enemies or dead. She didn't know which would be worse - possibly being captured by the Germans would be the worse fate for any soldier, but the possibility of Jack even being the slightest bit hurt caused tidal waves of worry to swallow Louise. The lack of a response to her letters didn't help.
However, she had never stopped writing to Jack after he stopped, in hopes that he was out there somewhere. She always kept all his and his mother's letters in a small chest by her bed and read them over and over again every night before she drifted off to sleep. She would often envisage about Jack's death in her nightmares, but on the odd occasion where she was having a better day than the last, she would dream of the future she could've had with him by her side.
In those dreadful 6 years, Louise had managed to easily step onto any hospital ship or boat without little to no care. It seemed her worry for Jack overpowered her fear of the sea.
Her worry caused her to become nauseous, she would be sick for days from just thinking too much about Jack Collins. She would hardly eat unless her mothers or siblings forced the food down her throat. They hated seeing like this. It got even worse when Andrew was sent back to war. Carey and Viola believed that her reaction to Jack's disappearance was worse than her reaction to the ocean.
It was selfish and a tad cruel for her, but every time she was shipped off to the battlefield or even in the local hospitals, she wished she would Jack would be one of the many patients, lying in bed, waiting to see her. But he never was. It would put others at ease to know that their loved ones weren't in the hospital or injured, but it only caused Louise to worry about where he actually was. If he were in a hospital, at least then he would safe and well cared for. But out there, he was dead meat - like everyone else.
On the 2nd of September 1945, the war was finally over and Britain celebrated. Louise was happy - her brother and father managed to survive, along with her little sister, the in-laws and further family. It was a miracle. Many families had experienced one loss in many ways, yet the Davies had managed to avoid death.
At least, that's what all the other Davies thought. Yet Louise couldn't help but think differently. Yes, Jack Collins wasn't a Davies by blood or by marriage, but Louise wanted him to be. She wanted to hug him, to kiss him, to marry him, to start a family with him, to forget all about the war with him. But he wasn't there. He wasn't with the Davies as they celebrated their country's success. And from Louise's knowledge, he would never be there. After two years of nothing but pitiful glances from the postman, Louise knew there was no way Jack could be alive.
