CHAPTER SONG: "Never Say Never" by The Fray
AN: This chapter is the introduction of Catherine Blake, the mother of Thomas and Joseph. I imagine her as being played by Michelle Fairley, AKA Catelyn Stark from 'Game of Thrones' since she has fantastic mother/son chemistry with Richard Madden on that show...
The first thing Emmanuelle heard when she awoke the next morning was the twittering of birds outside as her mind slowly broke through her unconsciousness. Her body stirred as she released a groan of refusal to fully awaken, tempted to sink back into sleep for a few more moments, her arm outstretched as her hand landed on the wooden bedside table for the tired woman to glance at the clock.
Opening her eyes to focus her vision, she blinked the grogginess away as her body rose into a more aware state of movement. The hands on the clock's face read that it was half past ten in the morning. A stab of guilt assaulted her gut when Emmy realized how late she had slept in. She had definitely been more exhausted than she thought from yesterday.
The brunette woman sat up from the bed, her tangled hair curling around her forehead and eyes as her rattled equilibrium caused a slight burst of vertigo to compromise her ability to remain upright, her arms supporting her weight. Placing a hand to her forehead, Emmy brushed her hair out of her face as she removed the covers and soft linen sheets from her legs and slowly swung them over the edge of the bed to place her stocking covered feet on the wood floor.
The more awake she became, the vivid memory of her nightmare last night became more apparent in her thoughts. Emmy enfolded her arms around herself as though she could still feel Joseph's arms holding her. She had never recalled seeing him in such agony since Will had told him about Tom...that defeated look on his proud, hopeful face as he had processed the news of his kid brother's death.
That look had haunted her every day ever since she had first embraced him as a friend. Wrapped the vulnerable man in her arms who still tried to keep the illusion of quiet stoicism and that damned English stiff upper lip...
Emmy thought back to what Nurse Tallis had said to her when they had talked about both the lieutenant and lance corporal that were enamored with her and she had asked the older woman how she could cope with her holding such power over two men.
How her heart belonged to one man and her soul to another...
And Emmy knew who her soul had been tied to...a string from her ribs entwined with that of another, if one was to paraphrase the wording of Edward Rochester's connection to Jane Eyre.
And he had held her deceased body in his arms with Tom at his side...and Emmy heard her answer in her ear, with the same voice she longed to hear in that moment.
Thomas Blake still continued to be her guide and confidante, however impossible it seemed, his voice aloud around her as though he was there physically in front of her.
"Tom, is it true? If I go back to 2020 and try to come back here to 1917, I'll die?" She kept her voice to a low whisper, a shiver shaking through her spine. Her trembling hands wrapped her shawl around her shoulders.
I don't know for certain if death will be the result, Emmy. But it'll be a great risk for you to alternate between times. Remember when you fainted back at the farmhouse and Scho carried you outside?
"I thought I fainted because of the shock after I figured out where I was. Back in 2020, I never really blacked out like that before; I thought women mainly did that because of wearing corsets too tight." A smirk crossed her face at the biting touch of irony before the seriousness set in.
And she didn't count being roofied or sedated against her will either...
Her stomach lurched with nausea at the thought of Erik awaiting her return.
Emmy, there's a good chance that once you go back to 2020, you'll remain in good health, but it will make you weaker; it'll be a toll on your body. And if you return back here after that... it's possible you may not survive. You can only choose one or the other.
"But I can't leave things unsettled in my old life. If I don't return to 2020, Erik will find another girl to harass, and he might hurt my mother. I need to make sure she's safe and he's brought down for good. I need to make things right after I've been so naïve and selfish." Tears streamed down her face as she felt his ghostly aura beside her. "But I can't bear to think of what it might do to Will...or to Joe if I suddenly disappear."
Tom Blake's spirit laid one of his hands, the one that once wore his family rings now lying on Emmy's bedside table, upon her trembling fingers. Joseph is on his way back home now, back to our mum. She hasn't been well since we both left for the front and she's been alone. He'll want to see you and know you've made it safe to Surrey.
At his words, Emmy looked up as though to look at this invisible comfort of a literal kindred spirit at her side, but a chill drafted through the room as though there was a frost outside despite the spring season. Immediately, she knew there was nobody else in the room with her any longer. She wiped her tears away, mentally preparing herself to face the day ahead, and she placed her fingers upon the St Christopher medallion on her bosom.
However indifferent she was about religion, Emmy knew she needed the greater powers on her side if she were to live and she mouthed a silent prayer for some form of reassurance or confirmation that not all hope was lost and that some things were to be okay if not everything.
She looked again to her bedside table and next to the clock and Tom's rings tied with a leather string bracelet lay a small piece of white paper folded in half and perched atop the parchment was a pair of stemmed violet freesias.
Emmy exhaled a gasp of surprise, touched at the notion of awakening to such a considerate gesture. She reached over and took the flowers into her hands, holding them to her nose to inhale their sweet fragrance and immediately her worries vanished from the forefront of her mind as a sense of calm enveloped her like a cloud lifting her up to a dreamland of paradise.
She smiled to herself, a feeling of girlish, childlike joy flowing through her veins as she placed the flowers in her lap and took the note into her hands, eager to read from whoever had allowed her to wake with such a simple but affective gift to ease her woes.
Emmy, my beautiful dreamer
By the time you wake, I'll have left to attend to matters related to my regiment in London. It's a tiring routine mandatory for me whenever I'm on leave. It shall require my absence for only today, and I ought to return back by nightfall. I've asked Molly to allow you to rest as late as you need after the long journey here. You deserve the most peaceful slumber, darling.
I watched the sun break over the horizon when I woke, but its golden brilliance didn't compare to seeing you as I placed these freesias on the table as you slept. They're the flower of new beginnings that I hope will ease awakening to your first morning in Surrey. I hope you have the most wonderful day filled with discovery and joy. I've spoken with Molly as I promised and she's sworn to give you time to adjust and she will warm to you. Just be yourself and all shall be well.
I'll be counting the minutes until tonight, my sleeping angel.
With love,
Your Will
XXX
Emmy read the words over and over, her heart fluttering in her ribcage like an infatuated schoolgirl, however ridiculous it might have seemed to her modern day sensibilities. Will's romantic prose never failed to make her feel reborn in regards to feeling affection, like everything would fall into place, however threatening and looming the prospect of her very life being in the balance if she were to return back to 2020.
But, she couldn't afford to think of that in the moment. As far as Emmy knew, there was nothing to be done about her time-traveling and how it could affect her well-being.
She couldn't bear to imagine Will's heartbroken expression if he found her gone without a trace and no explanation. And Joseph...
She needed to see him. She needed to know if he was alright.
Emmy clutched the freesias in her careful grasp with one hand and her other one with her scarred fingers reached out for the leather tied bracelet with the Blake family rings and she placed it around her wrist. She adjusted Will's letter so it leaned against the ticking clock and placed the freesias into her hair by her ear.
She stood onto her feet and removed the shawl from her shoulders, pulling up her suitcase onto the bed so she could start dressing for the day.
Once she was finished tying her hair into a coiled braid pinned to the back of her head, a few strands of brown tendrils framing her face, she gave herself a onceover in the vanity mirror. The bags under her eyes were less pronounced, her skin freshly washed of the sheen from being underneath the thick comforter all night, the green glint of determination in her eyes to have a good day despite Will not being by her side. The freesias braided into her hair helped to emphasize her natural femininity that she was determined to be more of her strength than a weakness. Her white linen collared blouse and dark purple skirt accentuated her figure...and her reflection left her perplexed where she both didn't recognize the woman in the mirror, yet she had never felt more like herself...
Dare she say...she truly felt beautiful for the first time in a long time?
She could hear Will's deep sighing words in her ear, her own subconscious assuring her of what she always denied. You are a vision, love. Don't let anyone, not even yourself, make you feel less than the most beautiful woman to walk this earth, in this century or yours.
Emmy held her head high, standing up straight and smiled to herself as she opened the bedroom door and made her way downstairs. The living parlor was empty and quiet aside from the motion of Molly's dress skirts as she sat on the chaise that Will had slept on last night. She was reading a book, wearing a dark blue apron over her gray plaid patterned skirt and black blouse, pushing some loose strands of brown hair out of her face. She was so engrossed in what she was reading that she didn't notice the fair slight figure of her brother's sweetheart standing nearby until Emmy sat down in the crimson armchair next to the ash covered fireplace.
The American girl smiled tentatively as Molly glanced up from her book and exhaled a relieved sigh at the sight of her houseguest. Quickly, the older woman closed her book, setting it to the side as her eyes softened at Emmy. "Emmanuelle, I apologize. I didn't hear you come down the steps. Will left this morning; he won't be back until later tonight."
Emmy looked down at her lap, feeling Molly's blue eyes surveying her, the same shine as her brother's eyes. "Yes, Will left me a note in my room...and some flowers too."
She carefully removed the freesias from her hair, trying not to misplace any strands from her braided bun. Her fingers stroked the delicate petals.
"I...I want to say that I'm sorry for my bluntness last night. Please understand I'm not trying to scare you away. It's been just me and the girls for so long...ever since this war has taken my brother away to kill German soldiers..." Molly stopped herself from going further into the subject. She changed to another topic, wanting to focus on this discussion with this woman who captured her brother's heart. "I saw you and Will in here dancing...I didn't intend to spy, I just froze...and I must admit...it's been so long since I've seen him so happy. The way he looks at you...it's like how Jane Austen wrote Darcy's confession of love to Lizzie Bennett. You mean a great deal to him...and I would like us to have a chance to get to know one another better."
Emmy listened to every word her hostess spoke, trying to keep her unshed tears from flowing down her face. Maybe everything was coming into place...
Molly scooted up to the edge of the chaise and reached over to take Emmy's hand gently in her grasp, looking into the young woman's green eyes, seeing her brother's medallion of St Christopher dangling from her throat. "Whenever I feel conflicted, I say a prayer and ask for guidance. I prayed with everything I had after we spoke last night...and I felt regret about how I talked to you. William loves you and I know you've brought out the man he used to be before he enlisted. So...if you forgive me, maybe we can start over and I can perhaps show you around the village where me and my brother grew up during your stay here. Maybe acquire you some more necessities and clothes for your stay than what was provided to you in France."
Emmy smiled widely as a weight of pressure and worry was lifted off her shoulders. "Thank you, Molly. I would love that. And there's nothing to forgive. If I were in your situation, I would be cautious of a stranger staying in my home as well. And you have your girls to think about, too. But please believe me when I say that I love William with my whole heart...and I don't want to live another day without him. And it takes me a lot to trust people myself..."
The younger woman trailed off before she found herself on a tangent about her whole story. That could wait another day.
Molly comfortingly patted Emmy's hand as she stood up, guiding her guest to stand on her feet. The two women smiled knowingly at each other, relieved they had made a sort of peaceful truce with one another. The serene moment was interrupted by the sound of Emmy's stomach rumbling with hunger, reminding both women that it was soon approaching lunchtime.
"Well, let's get you something to eat, Emmy." Molly was surprised at how easily the girl's nickname rolled of her tongue. "My brother won't be so forgiving if he thinks I'm not feeding you substantial meals. If you give me a moment, I've saved you some breakfast before I took the girls to school earlier this morning."
She took Emmy's hand and led her out of the living room and toward the small rectangular dining room table. Molly pulled out a chair for Emmy to sit down, glancing down on the white tablecloth when she noticed the leather bracelet tied on the American girl's wrist. Her brow furrowed with confusion as Molly didn't recognize the rings as being Schofield family heirlooms. Emmy turned to face her when she saw Molly had paused to look closer at the rings that she had a sudden curiosity about.
"Emmy... those rings hanging from your wrist... May I ask how you got them?" Molly slowly sat down on another chair opposite Emmy.
The younger woman looked at the bracelet, her fingertips brushing along the gold trinkets that had been worn on Thomas Blake's fingers. Emmy knew she had to tell Molly the truth about the Blake brothers...
And she held nothing back. She explained everything to the sister of her beloved lance corporal. Each event for imprinted in her memory. Tom's death at the farmhouse after she had been recovered, arriving at the second Devons' battalion and meeting Joseph Blake... William writing the letter about Thomas' demise to their mother... and everything afterward at the hospital...
For further proof that she didn't sound insane, Emmy had retrieved the letter Joseph had written to her. And the sentence that stood out the most to Molly as she read over the letter...
I love you, Emmanuelle.
"I know of the Blakes. Catherine Blake is Tom and Joe's mother, she lives near the edge of the village border. She's been nearly a recluse since her boys went to the front. But...what Joseph writes here. He's also in love with you? And he tried to kiss you without your asking." Molly tried to downplay her accusing tone when she inquired Emmy about her relationship with the lieutenant.
"He's not said so much in words. He shows his affection by giving me the last of his late brother's belongings. But he knows that I love Will and he's regretted trying to kiss me without my consent. He's been a complete gentleman... and I know I have to make things right by going to visit Mrs. Blake and giving back what's rightfully hers." Emmy gently pulled off the bracelet from her wrist.
"I think that's the right thing to do, Emmy." Molly gave a knowing smile in the direction of her brother's love. "I'm seeing why Will is truly so smitten. A good soul resides in you. I'd be proud for you to be an example role model for my girls." She reached over and squeezed Emmy's smaller hand.
Silent tears streamed down Emmy's cheeks at Molly's words. Her fingers held onto the bracelet as she held back a sob of relief. "Thank you, Molly."
Molly smiled back, sniffling back her own tears as she stood from her chair and went out to the kitchen to prepare some sustenance for her houseguest, her conscience soothing back the harsh words she had spoken to the vulnerable woman last night. It wasn't right to judge someone before you knew their true character, and Molly was beginning to grow fond already of the woman her dear brother loved with all the valor and conviction in his honorable heart.
.
.
Later that afternoon, another tired soldier at last made his way home earlier than anticipated.
Lieutenant Joseph Blake walked through the path leading to his family's residence, the home he and Tom had shared their entire lives.
His army surplus pack slung over his shoulder, his arms began to ache after holding onto it for so long, but that was the least of his problems.
His vision began to blur, burning tears stinging as he thought of his beloved mother and the letter Corporal Schofield had written to her about his little brother's death. Thinking of her receiving the letter in the mail and having nobody there to comfort her when she had needed it most made him want to scream and curse the heavens until his vocal chords were sore.
Joe walked with quick careful steps through the front yard until he stopped in his tracks to take a long look at the house, its modest architecture of a two story build. A family home that now would have one less occupant...
Multiple trees lined both sides of the house, blooming pink and white petals snowed in the air around him, floating on the breeze and he remembered Schofield telling him what Tom had said about the cherry orchard. How they had found an abandoned farm with numerous cherry trees that had been chopped down to keep the fruit from growing.
But amidst the wreckage of that farm, they had found a most unexpected surprise.
An exquisite girl with untamable spirit, wearing a blue dress of a turbulent ocean and possessing an unquenchable fire that didn't scorch the goodness within her heart...
Emmanuelle Hunterson...
She had haunted his dreams every night since they had parted ways at the hospital and the letter she had written burned a hole in his box of personal possessions along with the picture of the woman herself in a beautiful wedding gown. And a majority of the dreams had actually been ones of mourning and pain and tragedy.
Always inside the local chapel he found himself, surrounded by candlelit incense and dozens upon dozens of floral bouquets, kneeling by her body laid on a bier, holding her limp hand to his cheek whilst feeling no pulse in her wrist as violent sobs made his strong body nearly convulse with agony, his cries sounding alike to a wounded animal... and he would awaken alone and in tears, out of breath and yearning to feel her presence to assure him that she was safe and prosperous.
A creaking at the front door pulled Joseph out of his brooding reverie as he looked to the porch. There in the open doorway threshold stood his mother, Catherine. The excited barking of their female chocolate Labrador retriever Myrtle welcomed his ears as the mid-term pregnant canine ran out and went to greet her owner.
Joseph couldn't help but melt at the sight of the sweet creature, spotting her round abdomen as she went up to sniff all the strange new scents on him and walk at his side back toward the house and he gently patted her head. The exhausted man removed his parade cap from his head, grasping it in his hand and removing his supply pack from his shoulder as he walked briskly toward the woman who had brought him and his brother red-faced and screaming into this world.
"Mum." He threw everything down to the grass so his hands were free as his mother came down the porch steps at a brisk pace. Her dark red hair wild in the breeze and her sharp blue eyes focused on her remaining son.
"Joseph!" She released a sob, reaching out her arms to her eldest son and he opened his embrace to her, tears forming in both mother and son's eyes. Catherine threw her arms around his neck in an unbreakable hold that dared anyone to pull her away from her now only living child. "My Joe, you've come back!"
"Yes, I've come back to you, Mama." The lieutenant freed himself of his emotional armor as he took his mother into his arms, stinging tears trailing down his heated, clean shaven cheeks.
They stood for many moments in each other's arms, unable to speak in comprehensible words, their crying overwhelmed the parent and offspring pair's ability to talk. A cool breeze chilled the air around them and Catherine shivered as her son continued to hold her. A raspy cough choked the Blake matriarch as she drew back from Joseph's arms to gasp for air. The ebony haired soldier helplessly watched her cough out until she was able to catch her breath. She leaned back against him to keep her balance as Joe enfolded his arms around his beloved, sickly mother.
"C'mon, Mum. Let's get you back inside." He hurriedly gathered up his luggage, folding the bag strap over his shoulder, placing his parade hat back onto his head. "I'll get you settled in front of the fire and put the kettle on."
"Alright... I'm just glad to have you back, my sweet Joey." Catherine murmured, resting her head on his shoulder as her knees began to buckle.
Joseph noticed immediately his mother starting to shake and shiver. Acting on instinct and great care, he bent down and lifted his mother into his arms, holding her in a bridal carry to ensure his getting her safely inside the house. Myrtle sprinted ahead into the parlor and placed herself by the fireplace so she could see everything happening in the room.
"Son, you don't need to coddle me. Remember, when you were a baby, you cried so much I wasn't able to put you down?" Catherine good-naturedly joked despite her dizziness as Joseph carried her through the doorway and into the living parlor, gently depositing her into the armchair by the hearth.
"Don't I know it?" Joseph smiled a little for his mother's sake as he grabbed a woolen duvet blanket from the chaise lounge and placed it over her legs. "Let me get my things upstairs and I'll make you some tea."
He leaned down and placed a kiss on her forehead and another tear made its way down her cheek. "Your room is the same as you and your brother left it."
Heavy silence hung in the air as Tom was mentioned for the first time between them since their reunion. Catherine reached up and wiped the tear away from her face as Joseph took ahold of her free hand and pressed a light kiss on her knuckles. If he could protect his mother from all the grief and pain this damned war had brought to so many people...
"I'll be back in a moment, Mum. Stay right here." He softly ordered her, knowing there was a huge chance she ignored his instructions. He gathered up his duffel over his back and made his way up the staircase toward his old bedroom.
Catherine leaned her head back against the cushioned armchair, watching the embers in the fireplace that had since faded from earlier that morning, waiting for her elder son to return and for them to have a long conversation about the letter she had received from a Corporal William Schofield of the 8th Devons' regiment.
Upstairs in his room, Joseph rummaged through his bag and dug out his box of personal belongings and tokens, including a photograph of himself, Tom and their mother. It just being the three of them, two boys raised by a single mother, life was still bearable ever since he had abandoned them and never looked back...
Joe repressed those memories before he became lost in them and he pulled out the letter he had received from Emmy Hunterson in response to the one he had penned to her while she was still recuperating in the hospital in France. Every word inked in her scribbled yet still legible handwriting had been etched into his heart, even though they had been words of friendship and comfort rather than romance and passion that he longed to show her.
Placing the letter from his verbally secret, unrequited love on top of the bed, he remembered the mysterious photograph of her in an ivory wedding dress, or at least a woman with her exact likeness and reached into his case to take it from his possessions so it wouldn't be crinkled. Every night, he had glanced at it before he went to sleep to keep the nightmares at bay. But the effort was in vain since no amount of beauty or goodness could vanquish the demons of terror and grief and guilt inside him.
Joseph turned the picture around to look at it and the image of the unnamed bride with the exact features of the woman who he had thought about every day since he met her.
Emmanuelle Julia Hunterson... from this unheard of year in the future 2020, and hailing from America.
Joe sarcastically wondered if the powers that be were mocking him by this photograph suddenly appearing with his own personal family items... when it was already morally wrong to be in love with a woman already finding her soulmate with a fellow war comrade...
He would've given anything for any vindication to why this was happening... some sort of answer as to why this pain of a love that could never be returned had been sentenced to him when he already had the loss of Tom to cope with...
And despite the rage and bitterness he felt and would still feel over the loss of his only sibling, this petite brunette woman with the evergreen eyes who had weighed less than his duffel pack when he had carried her in his arms through the hospital hallways had brought him back from the abyss from which he would never climb out. She had made him smile and laugh again like he hadn't in so long...
And yet he could never have her...
Meanwhile, Catherine kept her blanket close to her chest, her vision focusing on the ashes in the fireplace, her mind fighting to stay awake as she awaited her son's return downstairs.
Her eyelids threatened to close as she listened to Joseph's footsteps on the floorboards above her from the ceiling and the silence was shattered by a sudden noise she didn't expect.
A knock at the door.
Catherine briefly put a hand to her chest as she sat up from her chair and pushed the blanket off her legs. She struggled to stand up on her shaking legs as she gathered her balance. Myrtle's head raised in alertness, her ears perked with rapt attention as she watched her human companion go to the door as though she were preparing for defense against this newcomer.
Another knock at the door, more insistent this time and the elder redhead woman restrained a groan of frustration. "Just a moment. Hold your horses!"
Myrtle began barking as the Blake matriarch cautiously opened the door, uncertain of who could be arriving without any planning ahead for visitors.
Catherine absorbed the sight of the unexpected stranger standing on her porch. A very pretty girl stood on her porch, her long brown hair flowing over her shoulders, a slight sheen of sweat shining on her forehead as she sounded out of breath. Her green eyes locked right away with Catherine's, shining with hope and anxiety. Her black shoes and the hem of her purple skirt were caked with mud, evidential of her walking a good distance on her own two feet through the village from wherever she was residing.
The elder woman waited for the young lady to speak...
"I'm sorry to bother you, ma'am. Are...are you Catherine Blake? My name is Emmanuelle Hunterson... I...I know your son Joseph Blake...and you might have received a letter from Will Schofield about Thomas Blake." She paused with hesitation as she waited for the woman's reaction to what she was about to present to her. The girl held out her hand for Catherine to see what she had attached to her arm.
She had a leather tied bracelet on her wrist...and raveled around the string were the rings Tom had always worn on his fingers.
Catherine grabbed onto the frame of the doorway to balance herself and the girl stepped forward as though to help her. Mrs. Blake turned around and shouted inside up to her son. Myrtle whined as she slinked past the redhead woman and went to greet the mysterious girl and she sniffed her muddied skirt.
"Joe? Darling, you have a friend here for you!"