CHAPTER SONG: "Young and Beautiful" by Lana Del Rey
AN: The character of Emmy Hunterson is named  after and inspired by actress/singer Emmy Rossum, best known as Christine in the Phantom of the Opera 2004 film, as pictured above.
*Reference to the song "Think of Me" from Phantom of the Opera, by Andrew Lloyd Webber
Emmy sat on her hospital bed later in the night, listening to the distant rumbling of the evening hate. The forget-me-knots from Will sat on the table by her bed next to the vase containing the wilting bouquet of daffodils and alstroemerias from Joseph. Will's letter sat folded against the vase, intact with the folded creases of the paper.
She inhaled a trembling breath as she tried to keep from placing her hands over her ears, wanting to block out the rumbling of the bombings in the faraway trenches.
What was Will doing in this moment? Lying low in his trench, awaiting orders to go over the top? She recalled seeing the black and white footage of such instances from the London museums back in the present, soldiers with the tin helmets strapped to their heads, charging with bayonets and rifles, shouting to the charge toward the enemy.
And Joseph? Was he leading his men in a similar scenario, running blindly to destroy the Germans, and for what? How she hoped she hadn't broken his heart too much with her inability to reciprocate his adulation of her.
She still wasn't certain if she could categorize it as Joseph truly loving her yet, with his still reeling from Thomas' death.
How she wished she could've given him something to remember her by before they had parted and she truly hoped she would see him again in the future. As much as she promised her heart to William, she would devastated at the thought of never seeing Joseph again after they had parted just mere days ago.
Emmy had seen plenty of movies and TV shows back in the present that involved women being loved by two different men and she made a vow to herself that her choice would be resolute and unbreakable, despite her recalling Nurse Tallis' words.
One man who had her heart and the other her soul...
What kind of woman was she turning into?
She was still the same self-reliant woman caught in the most unusual circumstances. No man would ever own her or make her feel less than her own person as a possession.
And Will understood that, never pressuring her into anything she didn't want and he desired to see her return home. Whether she would ever come back to him would be her own choice...
And she had given Joseph a lesson in knowing that she was not a woman any man was entitled to have despite her supposed damsel-in-distress status with his position as her defender to get her to the hospital unharmed, for the most part.
She would stand to be respected as her own person with the right to love whoever she chose, God help the person who stood to challenge her on that notion.
She was not a trophy to be placed on a mantle or a flighty love interest who only served the purpose of looking pretty with nothing interesting to say. God made her as a flawed human being, not an idealized projection of feminine perfection, and she would never apologize for it.
And she loved and was loved in return for all her faults...
The addressed letter from Lt. Joseph Blake still lay on her blanket covered lap, unopened. She had done everything else tonight to keep herself occupied from it. She ate every bite of the hospital food served to her for dinner, walked a few rounds around the room on her crutches, bathed and washed her hair, and brushed her teeth down to the gums, trying to rid her mouth of halitosis.
There was no more delaying it now. She had to read the letter now or she'd lose her nerve. And she had to respond to it, or he would assume he would never want to see him again, that she had written him off as a hopeless shoulder to cry on in William's absence.
No, Joseph was a better man than that archetype of romantic emasculation. She had made her feelings clear and he understood without manipulating her in the moments she'd had of emotional weakness. They would not blur the lines together between friendship and love.
Emmy took the envelope in her hands, her fingers slightly shaking as the distant bombs rumbled and slightly shook the floor beneath her similar to an earthquake. She took a deep breath to calm herself as she opened the back of the envelope and carefully pulled out the letter, two pieces of paper with ink scribing on both sides.
She noticed there was something else placed in the envelope, a tiny sound of metal clanking together. Placing the letter papers on her stomach, she pulled out whatever else was in the envelope and was taken by surprise and melancholy squeezed a tight grip around her heart.
Tied on a brown string to keep them together were two golden rings, both of them slightly stained with rust. The string was tangled amidst her fingers as she remembered where these rings had come from.
William had given them to Joseph as they were the few possessions taken from Thomas at his passing, placed in the lieutenant's trembling hand as the older man tried to keep his composure. Emmy recalled seeing the rings on Tom's hand back at the farmhouse when they had been talking and he was making her laugh and feel at ease in her unusual situation.
Joseph Blake had given her the most personal remnants of his dear only brother, which confirmed everything she had suspected all along, but the man himself refused to say aloud to her to spare her own feelings...
Before she could even think of the realization at the forefront of her mind, she grabbed the letter with the stringed up rings resting between her fingers.
Her eyes read each sentence carefully, trying to block out the faint rumblings of the night-time strafes. They were dying down now thankfully...
April 10th, 1917
Sweetest, most radiant Emmy,
I can't describe the sadness I felt when I turned away from you that night we said goodbye. You were upset and I wanted more than anything to remain by your side until you were completely healed. The very vision of you running along a flower blossomed field or a sun-kissed beach with your exquisite legs and your wild hair flying in the wind makes me smile in a way I never imagined I would again after processing the loss of Tom.
Knowing you and talking with you has helped to make the grief more bearable, if not still painful. Your friendship had helped to heal me moment by moment, whether we were arguing with each other, laughing together or crying in each other's arms. When your Corp. Schofield first told me about my brother's demise, I felt I had no purpose to live for any longer. Then, you stepped toward me like a fearless heroine risking her life to tame a dangerous creature of savagery, and you wrapped your arms around me. The way you looked at me, your beautiful eyes showing not forced pity, but unselfish concern for my wellbeing and you expected nothing in return.
When I first laid eyes on you, I was in the medical tent after the botched attack the morning of April 7th, averted thanks to your Schofield. You were pale as a ghost, eyes closed in a delirium fever, Private Seymour had carried you there, worried about you and the Lance Corporal who begged for you to be taken to safety and to a doctor. You were muttering through your fever and you said Tom's name as I passed by...and I stopped in my tracks and I knew I had to be next to you. I was drawn to you like a moth to a candle-flame. At first, I just wanted to know if you knew about my brother and something inside me said to stay by your side...and your eyes opened. And I was frozen to the spot and knew I no longer belonged to myself. Despite your illness, I had never seen a woman with such eyes before, green as the pure rolling grass hills of Devonshire.
I vowed that I would never speak aloud of my feelings for you, but I will only make the declaration to you once in this writing to you. And it's the most selfish I've ever felt in my life, but you need to know the extent of what I suspected the second I looked into your eyes and confirmed to myself when your arms embraced me, under your own initiation.
I love you, Emmanuelle. And it's because of that I cannot be selfish with you or your Schofield. If I could go back to that foolish moment when I tried to kiss you without asking, I would do everything possible to keep your trust and I will respect your decision to remain a friend to me. As a sign that I hold you in high regard as a good person with a compassionate heart, I've sent you Thomas' rings that he always wore. They will be safer in your possession than mine. I don't want to risk losing them in the chaos of the trenches should I keep them on my person. They've been passed down through the members of the Blake family...
You're not obligated to wear them, but keep them safe for me. I know the more sensible thing would be for me to send them to my mother back in Surrey. But, I wanted to give you along with this letter something that represents everything I hold most dear. Again, allow me to emphasize that I don't expect anything in return from you. Your prized love and devotion is with Corp. Schofield and I will swear with my beating heart not to interfere with your happiness. Every day, I refrain myself from daring to hope that you will return even an ounce of affection beyond companionship in the platonic fashion.
Since we've parted this past week, I've thought about you constantly. I hope you're continuing to heal day by day and you're being cared for with the hospital staff at your service. Soon, you will be walking and running with joy instead of hobbling on an injured leg and looking over your shoulder for possible danger. Your Schofield is a good man and there's no two people I've known who deserve one another more. He'll comfort you, listen to you, protect and cherish you with the patience and gentle attention I've witnessed him display with you back at my encampment.
I probably sound like a lovesick schoolboy trying to communicate to a girl he's afraid to speak face-to-face with. All I'll say further is I hope to see you again one day. I imagine that after this war is over, when we're re-building our lives, I'll look up and see you, arm-in-arm with Schofield, maybe with your own little ones in tow. You'll be happy and laughing with your new family. My heart will leap with relief that you're free from all your pain and fear. And my love for you will burn in my veins, every word you've said to me before inspiring me to be a better man. You'll meet my gaze and we'll smile at one another without saying words, content in knowing our camaraderie has endured.
If anything happens to me, please hold onto my only brother's rings as a sign of how much I ardently adore, admire and love you.
Be safe and never lose hope, dearest friend and divinest possessor of my heart.
With everything I am,
Your Joseph.
Emmy read the letter over and over again, her eyes locking on the underlined sentence in dark ebony ink, black as Lt. Blake's hair and his dilated pupils when he would look at her with such intensity, smoldering with enough power to rival that of volatile Edward Rochester or the antihero Heathcliff...
He finally said it and there was no further denying it for her own sake.
Lieutenant Joseph Blake of the 2nd Devonshire Regiment was in love with her the same manner William was, but he was enough of an honorable man to not pursue her. He only wanted her to know because he thought enough of her to know exactly what she wanted, not to play with both his and William's affections.
And she would hate a part of herself for not being able to love him back...
Maybe in another world... in another life.
Her vision became blurry with tears from her eyes as she carefully folded the papers back up into sections, and wrapped the string tied with Thomas' rings around her wrist in a makeshift bracelet.
Joseph was placing her happiness above his own desire for her... an act of true love if she had ever seen one.
If you love someone, you'll let them go...
Her heart belonged to Will Schofield's devotion...and her soul had been taken by Joe Blake's redemption.
She was bound forever to these two men by their love for her expressed in different ways.
And yet fate was still being cruel to her by not showing who her potential husband would be in the photograph of her as a post-war Edwardian bride, rosy blush in her cheeks and sprinkled with a confetti of Queen Anne and Montmorency cherry blossoms...
Her bracelet woven hand reached down and clutched onto the St. Christopher medallion, feeling herself torn two ways and she held back a scream of frustration.
She had to reply for Joseph's letter to her after the trouble he took to send her Tom's rings.
Reaching out onto the table for more paper, she settled up against her pillow on the bed, leaning them against her legs, holding up her pen and thinking through her words with care since she wouldn't be able to back-track and erase any mistakes.
April 12th, 1917
Dearest Joseph,
I can't express how moved I was to receive Tom's rings with your letter. Although I don't feel deserving of them, and believe they may be more appropriate to give to the woman who you intend to marry, I'm in no position to tell you what to do with your personal family heirlooms. I've awaited word every day, wanting to know that you're okay. I'll do my best to keep your brother's rings safe for you. It's the least I can do after everything we've been through since we met.
About your confession to me in your letter, I'm happy to know that you understand through our friendship. I've never been in this sort of situation before. Where I'm from, I'm not the type of woman who makes men speechless when they see me, nor am I what you call a "stunning beauty". I've always believed that personality should come before anyone's looks in relationships. And the last thing I want to do is make you feel that I've led you on, which is why I was blunt from the beginning about warning you not to fall in love with me.
You're a wonderful man and I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you or if we drifted apart. If you want me to, I'll keep writing to you to let you know what's going on. Any day now, Will should come for me and spirit me away to Surrey. I'll be meeting his sister and nieces; I hope they'll like me, or at least approve of me.
I'll pray with all my might for your safety, and if we keep corresponding, maybe I can one day meet up with you and maybe even meet your mother, Mrs. Blake. I'd love to meet the woman who raised you and Thomas into the fine men you both are. I know that sounds very forward, but that's the kind of woman I am, not afraid to hold anything back.
And I understand what you mean about us meeting again in the future. I hope one day, we'll see each other again in our new lives, and maybe you'll have yourself a nice girl who can give herself to you completely as someone to share your life with. Whoever she is, she'll be the luckiest girl in England. And I've no doubt you'll be a great doctor and will make your family proud; I'll also be proud as your friend who cares very much about you.
With all my soul,
I'll miss you deeply and think of you fondly*,
Love, Emmy X
.
.
April 20th, 1917
Emmy looked in the mirror of her hospital room, washing her face with water from the basin. She had slept in the morning later than she had meant to and felt that half the day was already gone. A tingling in her chest had risen and it hadn't ceased since she'd woken up.
Something was coming...
Was it what she thought it was...?
Thanking the heavens above that she had been provided a few dresses close to her size thanks to the shops in the village close to the hospital, she had changed into a 3-piece frock, with a white high collar long sleeved top of lacing and a long skirt of dark purple with a black sash or belt around the waist, reminding Emmy of the pictures she had seen of how the younger suffragettes dressed at the Imperial Museum back in 2020.
Simple yet elegant, and she wanted to look presentable for William, like a woman who could hold herself at his side. The pain in her calf had mostly resided with the occasional ache, but she was able to walk on it with little assistance so long as steps weren't involved. The stockings on her legs would take some adjusting to, the urge to scratch the back of her knees difficult to ignore. The black shoes on her feet were flats to ease balancing on her healed leg.
While Emmy was satisfied with her appearance in attire, she still had to figure out her hair, untamed and evidential of her having recently climbed out of bed where her chocolate-hued tresses were tangled in knots.
Muttering to herself, the young woman heard hurried clacking of high heels behind her, signaling the arrival of Nurse Tallis.
"Miss Emmy! I just heard tell one of nurses outside saw a caravan truck pull up with some men in parade uniforms. One of them may be your Corporal Schofield, come to fetch you." The nurse smiled gently as the brunette girl turned around from the mirror at her words. "Are you finished freshening up?"
"He...he's here in the hospital?" Emmy reached forward and placed a hand on one of Tallis' shoulders as though she couldn't believe the words. "How...how do you know it was him?"
"He said something about stopping by the floral shop to get a flower for his sweetheart who was a patient here. And he's on his way from the front on leave to Surrey." The nurse placed both of her hands softly on Emmy's shoulders to keep her calm. "Not to worry, my dear. He doesn't seem to be injured. He's freshly pressed and looks like he's jumped straight off an advertisement from the London papers. You've certainly grabbed yourself a tall and handsome one."
A sob of relief escaped Emmy's throat as she hugged the nurse before she even though about how the older woman would react. At first, Tallis stiffened at the sudden action, then slowly put her own arms around the girl in a comforting embrace of understanding and empathy.
"Now don't start crying now, dearie. You don't want your fellow worried, thinking you're still hurting." The nurse brushed Emmy's hair behind her shoulders as they pulled away. "You look lovely in your dress; let's get your hair situated. It won't do to have you looking bedraggled and woken up from the Sleeping Beauty curse."
"Thank you, Tallis. Please tame my hair; it's been all over the place for too long." Emmy found herself sighing in aggravation.
Both women stood in front of the mirror, Tallis behind Emmy as she began working her fingers through Emmy's brown locks... "Let's see what we can do."
The minutes went by and Emmy's heart was pounding as her hair was wrapped up in a tucked braid at the back of her head in the style of a wrap and roll, where the strands were coiled to stay intact. Emmy pulled out a few strands from the side to frame her face and a couple free strands resting on her forehead. To show at least some of her more rebellious side...
Suddenly feeling insecure, she asked the nurse the question shakily as though she was a teenage girl getting dressed for the homecoming dance.
"How do I look?" She laughed in a nervous manner, her cheeks flushing with uncertainty.
Nurse Tallis opened her mouth to respond when another voice interrupted and both women turned to see who had spoken next.
"I've never seen anything more beautiful." William Schofield stood at the threshold of Emmy's hospital room, a thorn-less red rose in his hands, his eyes locked on Emmy as though he wasn't sure if he was hallucinating or not. His brown uniform was similar to how she remembered, only it seemed to be newly tailored with his wounded stripe still on his sleeve and he removed his parade hat from his head.
"William!" Emmy cried as she ran from Tallis and to her soldier and flung herself into his arms. Despite the ache in her still bruised ribs, she failed to be concerned about the discomfort.
Immediately, he dropped his hat without a care to the floor and only concentrated on the girl he was holding tightly to him. He lifted her up off the floor to where her feet dangled several inches from the tiles. "You're here. If this be a dream or even Heaven, never let me leave it."
"Shh...I'm real, I'm here with you, Will." She was slowly lowered back to the ground and she felt his lips kiss her forehead then his nose against her clothed shoulder. Feeling bold, she placed both of her hands on his face to meet his blue eyes, shining with so much yearning toward her that she wanted to cry. She pulled him down and pressed her lips to his in a fueled kiss conveying so much without any further words. "I love you... I've missed you so much."
Her whispered breaths brushed his face as Will pulled away from her embrace when he remembered they weren't alone. Nurse Tallis stared at their display of affection with unshed tears in her eyes at witnessing their touching reunion.
"I take it you're her Corporal Schofield." Tallis blinked away her tears and composed herself as she spoke to verify the identity of the man embracing the patient who had been in her care for the last two weeks.
Schofield placed an arm around Emmanuelle's waist to keep her close to his side, the rose still in his other hand as he turned to acknowledge the nurse. He nodded his head in mutual respect to the older woman. "Yes, ma'am. Lance Corporal Will Schofield of the 8th Devons. I can't thank you enough for taking care of Miss Hunterson."
"Twas no trouble at all, Corporal. She's quite the spirited young lady, reminds me of my own daughters back at home, stubborn to the bone." Tallis walked to Emmy and lightly tapped the tip of her nose.
The young brunette girl smiled as Schofield leaned down and kissed the top of her head. He caught the scent of her shampoo from her recent bath and briefly closed his eyes in bliss. The Lance Corporal opened his eyes again and saw the parade hat he had discarded to the floor.
He unwound himself reluctantly from Emmy's arms and bent down to pick up his hat, placing it atop of his head after smoothing back his brown hair.
"I take it that rose is for me?" Emmy pointed to the scarlet bloom in her soldier's scarred hand.
"For you only, my darling Emmanuelle." His voice was husky with longing as he enfolded his arm back around her waist. "I know roses are not your favorite, but it is a symbol of true love. It's only appropriate that I present to you such a token."
His eyebrows raised in a slightly teasing manner and Emmy laughed, smiling brightly as she took the single flower into her fingers. She lifted up Schofield's healed palm to her lips and kissed the scar that would be forever imprinted on his hand. "Thank you, Will. It's gorgeous."
She smelled the sweet aroma from the crimson petals, feeling for the first time in a long time that perhaps things would work out from now on.
"But it doesn't compare to the lovely blush in your cheeks, my Emmy." He whispered to her with a slight chuckle. "How do you feel? Is your leg better enough for walking? What about your ribs?"
Emmy couldn't ignore the worry evident in his tone compared to how happy he was a moment ago since reality was sinking in again for them. Before she knew what was happening, Emmy had been scooped up with great care into his arms and Will settled her to sit on the edge of her bed.
"She's been able to walk better with crutches, but now she's making rounds around the room without assistance." Tallis spoke up, back in the role of a medical professional explaining her patient's condition.
"I'm still a little bruised in the ribs. It's mostly my sides that are sore. We may have to be careful when I have to move around a lot." Emmy explained to her Corporal, hoping her words wouldn't cause William to go out of his mind with worry.
"Are you okay with walking outside to the car? Do you want me to carry you?" Schofield asked her softly, knowing how much she wouldn't want to be infantilized, but he cared more about keeping her from getting hurt any further.
"She can take the crutches with her, are you alright with that, Miss Emmy?" Tallis went to gather up the younger woman's suitcase that had the rest of her dresses and gestured to the crutches that leaned against the wall by the washing basin.
"That's fine, Tallis. Thank you so much for everything again." Emmy directed her words to the bespectacled nurse before turning again to Will.
"We'll need to leave soon if we're to catch the train out to London, my love." Schofield glanced between her and the crutches as he sat down by her side on the bed. "I understand if you don't want me to carry you, but I don't want you to fall if your leg still hurts."
"I don't wanna slow you down. You can go ahead and carry me out to the car." Emmy stroked his cheek with the hand that wasn't holding the rose, her thumb brushing his lips before she kissed him on the mouth. "I hope I don't embarrass you in front of your comrades if your girl can't even walk on her own."
Schofield stood up at her words, his eyes never leaving hers as her arm went around his neck and he lifted her up once again, cradling her to his crisply uniformed chest as though she was more precious than any treasure in the world. Emmy looked over his shoulder to see a bemused Nurse Tallis following them with her luggage and crutches.
"Emmanuelle Julia Hunterson, you could never embarrass me, nor have you ever made me feel in such a manner." His eyes met hers as he carried her through the hospital hallways and toward the entrance that led outside. He ignored the stares from passersby, focusing only on the woman in his arms. "I'd do anything to make sure you're safe. I'd carry you all the way across France to get you away from here if I had to."
Emmy bitterly smirked to herself, gratitude and a slight sentimental memory flooded through her mind. She was reminded of Joseph Blake carrying her the same way through the hospital in the opposite direction, reassuring her with heroic words and slight flirtations of humorous intent.
She leaned up and kissed William's jawline, one of her arms around his neck as the other rested on her stomach with the rose. "Are you ready to go home? I know you've had your reservations about it in the past."
Her tone was low as she anticipated his response, knowing it was a sensitive topic for him. Much to her relief, his eyes looked down at her with the glow of adoration that made her heart beat a marathon in her ribcage. Will sounded confident as he answered her quickly, as though he didn't even have to deliberate on the subject.
He murmured softly only for her to hear, the whispered rumble of his voice vibrated through her body as he held her close to his chest with incredible gentleness. "I'm ready for anything so long as it's with you, my forevermore."