Audrey’s heart squeezed in pain. This wasn’t the future she and Robert had planned. Her home was supposed to be with him, not his parents.
“You still have time to report to the Army camp in Tidworth, Audrey. I think you should accept their invitation.”
“I’m not going to America,” she said, shaking her head. “I can’t live with strangers. Besides, Robert would still be alive if it weren’t for me.”
“That’s not true. And if you read their letter, you’ll see they don’t feel that way at all.”
“I can’t leave home and start all over. Not without Robert. It’s impossible.”
“You did a lot of things during the war that seemed impossible. This is no different.”
Audrey struggled to stay afloat as new wells of grief opened beneath her. “I was raised in a different world than Robert. Did I ever tell you that the year I made my debut into London society, I had an audience with the queen?”
“What good did that ever do you?”
“I’m trying to explain that I know how to function here, in my world.”
“And you learned how to function in the Army, didn’t you? That life was nothing at all like what you were used to. If you learned to adapt once, you can do it again.”
“I can’t remake myself all alone. I’m too scared, Eve. I had you to help me during the war.”
“Listen, I’ll call Tidworth for you. Maybe they’ll let you postpone your trip to a later date so you’ll have more time to grieve.”
“They won’t let me come at all if they learn that Robert is gone.”
“Then why not go while you have the chance? If you don’t like America, you can always come home. You’re strong enough to do this, Audrey. Think of all the hard things you faced during the war. You’re not a coward.”
Audrey shook her head. She stood and carried the baby to the bassinet, too weak and shaky to hold him. He stirred and opened his eyes when she laid him down, so she rocked the basket until he fell back asleep. “I believed I could learn to live in Robert’s world as long as he was beside me,” she said to Eve. “But I can’t do it alone. I would be as lost and helpless as I was in the woods that day we first met. You laughed at the idea of me running away and told me to go home to Wellingford Hall because you recognized how hopelessly out of place I was. This is where I belong, Eve. At Wellingford. I would be just as out of place in America as I was in the woods. Besides, I have my son to think about.”
“At least go and meet Robert’s parents. Mourn with them at his grave. Then you can decide what to do.”
“My mind is made up. My home is here at Wellingford. It’s my son’s home, too. Robert and I fell in love here. All my memories of him are here, not across the ocean. I’m going to raise Bobby here.”
“Audrey, you need to think about this—”
“I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” She crossed to the desk and scooped up the packet of immigration papers, then tossed them into the rubbish bin. “There! It’s done!”
“You’re a fool, Audrey. Don’t throw away this chance.”
“I’ll write and tell the Barretts I’m not coming.” She opened the drawer with her stationery. “My father will be home next week. I’ll stay here and help him run Wellingford Hall. It’s a role I know well. Bobby can grow up here like Alfie and I did.”
“Please take more time to think about this. What if you change your mind?”
“I won’t. This is who I was before the war. Before Robert. It’s who I am without him.”
Eve pulled the thick packet of papers from the US government from the rubbish bin where Audrey had thrown them. Audrey had gone to her bedroom after writing to the Barretts to say she wasn’t coming. Her sealed letter lay on the desk, ready to post. Eve peeked at the immigration documents. Audrey was a fool to turn down this opportunity. If Eve had a chance to begin a new life in America, she wouldn’t hesitate to go. She sighed and dropped the packet into the bin again and returned to her dusting.
Eve had no idea what the next step in her life would be. With no education and a fatherless baby to support, her future was a bleak dead end, just as her mum’s had been years ago. She ran the feather duster over the mantel, then spread a mat in front of the hearth and knelt to clean the fireplace.
Oh, Audrey. If I were you . . .
She shoveled ashes into the bucket. If she were Audrey, she wouldn’t be on her knees with sooty hands. She would be on her way to Tidworth, to America, far away from Wellingford Hall and England and the reminders of who she really was—a woman with a child and no future. If only the documents were hers.