CHAPTER SONG: "Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again" by Sarah Brightman, Emmy Rossum, Sierra Boggess, etc... from Andrew Lloyd Webber's 'Phantom of the Opera', lyrics by Webber, Charles Hart and Richard Stilgoe*
Emmy sat by Catherine's bedside, a bowl of soup in her hands as she took it away from the older woman after she was finished eating. The brunette American girl had stayed at the Blakes' residence for the remainder of the evening after running on foot from the Schofields' house.
The sun began to set as the Blake matriarch proceeded to have another coughing fit, holding a cloth to her mouth. Emmy made sure the bin was nearby in case Catherine needed to vomit.
Although she hadn't known Mrs. Blake for that long an amount of time, it broke Emmy's heart to see her in such a weakened state. Catherine's heaving calmed into a regular rhythm of breathing as she drew the cloth away from her lips, looking at the bright scarlet red staining the aged rag.
"I'm so sorry, my dear. I...I thought I was getting better now that my sweet Joe had made it home in one piece. But, it seems fate has other plans for me." Catherine inhaled deeply as she threw the cloth into the bin, Emmy reaching out to hold her hand.
Joseph's mother laid back against her fluffed up pillow, clad in a clean nightgown. Her son had helped her bathe while Emmy had made her light soup to calm her nauseous stomach thanks to Molly showing her how to cook some basic meals. The young woman wanted to pay her back for taking her in that stormy night she had twisted her ankle and allowing her to stay over. Emmy hadn't possessed much experience in caring for someone else who was in such a state of illness, but she kept a brave front for Catherine and Joseph, wanting to be there for them as they had been for her.
"Mrs. Blake...Catherine... how long have you known about your being sick like this?" Emmy asked, dabbing her forehead with another wet rag.
"For at least three months. I was afraid to get a proper diagnosis from the doctor. I...I didn't want to worry my boys while they were away. Now, I know it's not done much good for my Joseph... now that we've lost Tom." Catherine's sharp blue eyes shone with tears, reminding Emmy so much of both Blake brothers' eyes of ocean irises.
"Well... at least now we know and we can take care of you. Joe loves you so much and he does everything he can for you." Emmy smiled softly as she felt Catherine take her small hand, their fingers interlocking. "I haven't known many men who are devoted to their mothers like he is with you."
Catherine chuckled, her tears streaming down her face. A humorous smile came to her lips despite the damp sadness running along her wrinkled cheeks, still glowing with a regal aura that brought to Emmy's mind a noble-born lady of royalty. "When Joe was little, he used to stutter his words. Right when he started talking, we could barely understand a godforsaken thing he said. Not even the schoolteachers at his grammar school could help him. So I had him read poetry before bed aloud. Walt Whitman, Robert Burns, Edgar Allen Poe..."
"Dammit, Mum!" Joseph interrupted, an annoyed tone coating his voice as he came into the room. "Why do you have to tell Emmy this? I stammered... some sort of verbal condition."
Catherine looked to her son as he sat on the other side of the bed opposite Emmy. "Whatever it was called, nobody could understand you, darling. But, eventually his stutter went away...thanks to that poetry."
The older woman managed to laugh despite her starting to pant for breath as she looked to her son. Her lips turned down into a grimace of discomfort as Joe leaned forward to kiss her forehead.
"Mum, we must let you rest now. Emmy needs to get home before its dark. Will's gonna come see us tomorrow with his sister to check on you too." Joe's voice softly soothed his mother as Emmy released her hand from Catherine's grip and slowly stood up from the matriarch's bedside.
"I'll clean up this food here, then I'll head back home." Emmy took the empty soup bowl in her hands. She could see Catherine's eyes begin to droop closed. "But, I'll be back tomorrow, I promise."
"Thank you so much, dearest Emmy. My sons were most blessed to have you in their lives." Mrs. Blake whispered softly to the younger woman. "And Corporal Schofield as well. I couldn't ask for a better friend to be there for my boys."
"There's nothing to thank me for, Mrs. Blake. Your sons have done more for me than what I've been able to do for them." Emmy smiled down at the dozing woman before meeting Joe's eyes as he readjusted the newly changed linen sheets around his mother.
Catherine only nodded tiredly in response before relaxing further into her cushions, turning her head sideways, her dark red locks of fiery hair fanning on the white pillowcase. Her breathing slowed down as Joe switched lower the light from her bedside lamp to where there was still a glow in the room. He gave his mother a gentle kiss on her hand before standing up and following Emmy out through the bedroom door.
Joseph left the door open a crack as both he and Emmy left Mrs. Blake to sleep. They both went downstairs, meeting Myrtle who had been lying in the parlor by the hearth, her ears perking up at the sight of her owner and their guest Emmanuelle. The dog whined as she went to Joe's side, allowing him to tenderly scratch her ears as Emmy went to the kitchen to put her bowl of soup away.
As though she sensed what her human companion felt, Myrtle looked up at Joe, who was watching Emmy move around so naturally in his home, as though she knew every square inch of the house like the back of her hand...
Joseph quickly stopped himself before his daydreaming caught him on red-handed; seeing the woman he loved amidst his fragmented psyche come to help him. In all the business of caring for his mother, they hadn't had much time to converse properly since she had arrived.
He noticed how her face looked slightly worn, like she hadn't had proper sleep the last couple of days. Emmy was near staggering to keep her balance as she placed a hand to her own forehead, a groan emanating from her lips. The pink blush of her cheeks suddenly vanished, now replaced with a pale white, like the blood had drained from her face.
Just like the other day in the orchard, when he watched her faint into Will's arms...
Immediately, Joe went to her side, enfolding his arm around her waist to steady her. "Emmy, hold on, keep your eyes open."
She was only able to mutter his name in response as he held her up and gently guided her to sit on the chaise. "Joseph?"
Emmy leaned back as the dizziness began to pass, inhaling slow steady breaths. She heard her best friend's footsteps hurry to the kitchen, the brief running of water, then his heavy steps again on the floor as he came back into the room.
Joe was by her side in an instant as she opened her eyes, a glass of water in his hands. "Here, you need to drink. You haven't stopped to care for yourself since you've been here today."
Her vision began to clear as she took the glass into her fingers and began to do as he said, whispering her gratitude. "Thank you, Joseph."
Myrtle sensed something was wrong and sat by Emmy's side, placing her furred head in the young woman's lap.
"Are you still having those fainting spells? Have you seen anything about... your return to the era of your origin?" Joseph asked her, surprised that such an unorthodox sentence easily exited his mouth.
"A few nights ago... I heard Erik's voice...in the vanity mirror. It was like I was under some sort of hypnotic trance and I couldn't break away. He said... that he was coming for me when I returned. And that he knew about me being here in a whole different time... about Will and all the people I've come to know here." She felt Joseph take the glass of water from her before she could drop it from her trembling hands. "When I finally broke free, I blacked out and Will was there with Molly and I told them what happened. He was able to detach the mirror and put it away in the cellar."
She inched closer to Joseph as she leaned against him, feeling comforted in his strong protective presence. Her arms were around his neck as she hugged him, wanting him to hide her from her fears.
"Joseph, I'm more scared of him than I ever have been before. But I know if I don't face him and expose him for who he is, he'll do who knows what to somebody else. I can't stay here in good conscience until he's taken down for good. He'll take me away where I can never escape him, or he'll kill me. I...I just can't do this anymore!" Emmy finally admitted her breaking point to the lieutenant, almost slumping into his chest as torturous sobs racked her body.
He wrapped her in his arms, his fingers stroking her long hair as his deep rumbling voice shushed her, letting Emmy know that he was here with her and would remain so until she ordered him away. She didn't deserve all this terror and insecurity for her mental and physical safety.
But what on earth could he say to make it better for her?
While he was no romantic poet, he could at least assure her that everything would be alright.
"Dearest one, listen to me. You've a strength and bravery not even the most decorated of generals would know of. Your kindness and honesty... such virtues are not to be wasted by your dying. You are meant to survive. You'll show that bastard your wrath with all the resources you have in such a mad world of mechanical wonders I cannot even fathom. And you'll return to us... ever the bright angel that you are. And you'll start a life anew here with everyone who loves you. You will live, Emmanuelle Hunterson and you'll come back. Reunite with Will Schofield and be the happiest and most cherished of women after this war is over." Joseph held her face in his hands, his thumb wiping away a tear from her cheek.
Emmy sighed, trying to catch her breath again and she briefly became lost in the blue eyes of Lt. Joseph Daniel Blake. He cradled her face ever so carefully in his hands, however messy and distraught she appeared.
She was frozen, her brain not quite processing the position she was in. They heard no other sounds except their own beating hearts and breathing... Their noses were brushing as she inhaled his masculine scent of pinewood and tobacco, evidence of him still smoking despite her saying it was hazardous to his lungs.
But, Joe was working to wean himself off of the cancerous vice... for her, he would do anything.
He doubted she truly had any idea how preciously he held her in his heart and mind and dreams...
Here she was, in his arms and so close... and so beautiful... he could almost taste her moist rosebud lips.
She placed her hand bearing Will's promise ring on his own hand that held her cheek before turning her head to the side... and Joseph gallantly pulled away from their intimate proximity.
What the bloody hell was he doing? Joseph growled to himself as he stood up from the chaise, guilt consuming his mind at almost falling into temptation with her again while she was so vulnerable and seeking comfort from him.
Before she could say anything in response, he walked out of sight to the pantry, leaving Emmy in the company of Myrtle, whose black eyes followed her master. His rumbling tone of voice reverberated through the lower level of the Blake house.
"I'll take you home, Emmy. Sun's almost set and Will's probably worried sick about you." He left no room for argument as he set out a bottle of whiskey and a single glass on the counter for later that night.
The quicker she was safely back at the Schofields', the sooner he could dispense the burning alcohol down his gullet and numb the pain of this ill-fated unrequited love for Emmy Hunterson and the impending loss of his dear mother...
.
.
The few days were erratic for both the Schofield and the Blake families. Emmy was running herself mad, going in between their houses during the day. Will, Joe and the woman they both loved taking turns with a vigil at Catherine's bedside.
The doctor took one final visit to the Blake residence, listening to her slowly decreasing heartbeat with her eldest son at her side, holding her hand. Will, Molly and Emmy waited with bated breath outside her bedroom for the results.
The Blake matriarch's condition had worsened and Joe refused to leave her side unless he absolutely had to for necessary reasons. He sat by her on the bed as the overworked doctor looked her over for his absolute exam of the dying woman, holding her limp hand as her breathing came out in tired gasps. She was paler than she had ever been prior, her eyelids fluttering open and closed, her once radiant blazing hair matted against the sweat soaked pillowcase.
Joseph flitted his gaze between the doctor and his mother, waiting to see what the man was about to say regarding the elder woman lying helpless before them. The surgeon listened to her heart intensely with his stethoscope, his bespectacled eyes squinting in disappointment as he met the younger man's worried blue eyes.
"Well? How much longer does she have?" Joe asked, knowing the answer wouldn't be in anyone's favor.
The older man removed the stethoscope's plugs from his ears, sighing heavily as he looked at the exhausted soldier afraid to move himself even an inch away from the barely lucid woman who had birthed him.
"Lieutenant Blake... Joseph..." The doctor removed his glasses to wipe some sweat away from his eyes. "I'm afraid she doesn't much time left at all... before long, she'll drift away and she won't wake up again. She has until tonight at the latest. The most that can be done now is ensuring her comfort in her concluding hours."
Joseph's eyes stung with approaching tears as he nodded silently at the physician's words. He raised Catherine's hand up to his lips and kissed her slender fingers, his eyes glued on her face as she blinked her eyes open at the feel of her remaining son's touch.
"My sweet brave Joseph..." Her voice croaked out his name in a weak rasp.
"I'm right here, Mum. We're all here with you." Joe pressed another kiss to her fragile knuckles before also kissing her forehead.
He barely noticed the doctor patting his shoulder before departing from the room and his muffled voice registering as he spoke to Molly, Will and Emmy who waited out in the foyer.
Joseph heard the bedroom door creak open with the entrance of the other three people who had become close with the Blake family. Will went first to hold Catherine's other hand as he sat on the chair by the bedside.
"Selfless William..." Catherine turned to the young corporal, her glassy blue eyes connecting with Will's as he cradled her hand ever so gently as though he were soothing his own mother. "You're a good man... you and Molly are both the best of people in a world gone to the devil. Please don't leave my Joe alone in this world."
"We won't." Molly spoke up as she stood by Will's side, placing a hand on his shoulder. "We'll look out for him like he's a member of our own family, Catherine."
"We shall, Catherine. I promise. It's been a privilege to know him and Thomas as well." Will felt a tear run down his own cheek as he placed a chivalrous kiss on Mrs. Blake's hand.
"I can finally go to my Tom. I've missed his smile so much." Catherine briefly closed her eyes before forcing them open again and locking her gaze to the American brunette girl standing at the foot of the bed. "May I speak to Emmy alone for a moment, please?"
"I don't want to leave you for long, Mum. Just a few moments." Joseph kissed her forehead again and reluctantly stood from the bed. He met Emmy's green eyes for a brief second before turning away and following the Schofield sibling pair out of the sickroom.
"Angelic Emmy..." Catherine reached out for the young girl who was trying so hard not to cry in front of the dying matriarch. "The woman my Joe loves so deeply. Every time he looks at you, he lights up like I never have seen before in all these years."
"I know... but I love William. I care about Joseph very much, Catherine. He's my friend...my best friend. But... I still feel bound to your son. My heart belongs to Will... and my soul with Joe. I don't want to be torn two ways...but I don't want you to resent me for not returning Joe's love." Emmy's cheeks burned as the salty tears flowed down her flushed face.
Catherine reached up and tenderly swiped away a piece of brown hair behind the younger woman's ear. "Dear girl, I could never resent you. It's your right to be true with your feelings. Having you in my Joe's life has been more fortunate for him. You're ever the daughter I could ask for, even if you don't reciprocate his feelings. I don't believe he shall ever cease from loving you for only a mother knows what lies in her child's heart. Even though you don't love my Joe the way he loves you...will you at least look out for him? Don't let his heart stop with grief."
"I will, Catherine. I will never stop caring about him, I can promise you that. Will trusted him with my life in France and you can trust me with protecting him too." Emmy grasped Mrs. Blake's hands in both of hers.
"I must go soon, Emmanuelle. I need to see my Joe again alone before my time runs out." Catherine gasped, closing her eyes again before coughing for a few seconds, her frail body convulsing as Emmy stood up and went to fetch Joseph back into the room.
Immediately the ebony haired lieutenant was by his mother's side again, holding her hand tightly as he sat upon the bed, leaning over the slowly expiring woman. "I'm right here, Mother. Everything's gonna be fine."
"Joseph...my little boy. Please let me give you the last of my strength to help you through the coming days. After I'm gone, you'll still have something to live for. You and Emmy are meant to know each other and help one another through the pain this war has brought us. Don't let your grieving me and your brother harden your beautiful heart and keep yourself open to love and companionship."
"Oh, Mum..." Joseph's face contorted with approaching sobs as he bent over to place a farewell kiss on her forehead. "I miss him so much. And I'll miss you always... please don't go. I cannot bear this house being empty and silent with your absence."
"I don't want to leave you either, darling. But it's my time now." Catherine reached up and stroked his dark hair atop his head before doing the same with his scruffy cheek. "Tom would be so proud of you... and I can finally go to him and God. And you'll rise above this horrid war to be your own man. You must survive...and start your own family. My beautiful son... I love you. And never forget that..."
Catherine's eyes closed again as her upper body relaxed into the pillow, her breathing beginning to fade and her body moving less and less with the irregular movement of her lungs. Joe held his fingertips to the inside of her wrist as he felt her hand...
Just barely warm...
"I love you so much, Mum. Everything you've done for us. I love you, Mama." Joseph's voice cracked as his emotions overtook his façade of keeping himself together. He crawled onto the bed like he was a child and laid his head upon her stomach, closing his eyes and his tears stained the blankets covering her.
He counted the final breaths exiting her body as the agonizing last moments of her life closing dragged and dragged...
And then Catherine Blake breathed no longer...
Joseph held still her lukewarm hand as he looked down at his mother's cooling immobile form, trying to feel the remnants of life within her... He laid her hand upon her stomach as he heard the door open again behind him.
He couldn't even look at whoever had come in as Emmy placed her hands on his shoulders and took the inconsolable man into her arms. Her petite fingers stroked his hair as he sobbed into her shoulder, like he had comforted her only a few nights previous in the parlor.
Not even the woman of his desires holding him could ease the pain consuming all he knew.
Emmy shushed him to let Joseph know that she was there for him and she would keep the promise she made to Catherine, even if she didn't love him in the same way he loved her.
"I'm so sorry, Joe. I'm sorry..." She whispered in the crying man's ear.
No further words were said by anyone as Will and Molly embraced in their own grief and they both stared with astonishment at the display of sympathy this American woman from the future was showing to the lieutenant who would need all the decency and compassion possible to endure such a difficult time.
.
.
The following day and the one after, the day of Catherine's funeral, all blended together for Molly and Will Schofield, Emmy Hunterson and Joe Blake. The service was during the lighter hours of the evening in the middle of the week. The duration of it being brief due to another service scheduled later that night.
By some miracle, Joe was able to give his eulogy without breaking down, due to the presence of the little Schofield girls Cici and Elle in addition to Emmy mouthing to him from the pews the next sentence whenever he became choked up. She had assisted him in writing the final words to give about his mother after his hands became too unsteady to ink the letters to paper legibly and helped to shave the growing scruff from his face, giving him a more dignified and clean cut appearance for the memorial.
The coffin lid was only open for a few minutes, revealing Catherine in her best Sunday dress, with the bracelet tying together Thomas' rings clad on her wrist. It was Emmy's idea to bury her with the last possessions of her late son. She hoped they would have a joyous reunion in Heaven or whatever afterlife brought them peace.
Joseph and William carried the coffin from the church to the cemetery. Both men supporting each other in safely transporting the Blake matriarch to the gravesite where she was to be buried next to Tom's marker. It was the first time both of them had seen the empty grave meant to be for young Thomas Blake, his name etched in smooth polished stone, the dates of his birth and death signifying his tragically severed lifespan.
Thomas Michael Blake
Beloved Son and Brother
Born May 31st, 1898 - Died April 6th, 1917
His body had been left behind back at that abandoned farmhouse in Flanders, left to rot. Emmy recalled there being no time to properly grieve him or retrieve Tom from where he lay so he could be sent home back to his mother...
Molly held both Cici and Elle close to one side of her as she wrapped her arm around Emmy's shoulders when she could see the silent tears streaming down her face. The older Englishwoman was proud of how the her honorary sister kept her head high during the service and the walk through the cemetery, her black mourning dress flowing around her body with the matching veiling scarf wrapped about the top of her chestnut hair like the American maiden had stepped out of a Bronte' novel...
Emmy clutched a small bouquet of dark crimson roses, watching Joe and Will carefully place the coffin on the ground for the grave diggers to complete the act of burying Joseph Blake's mother.
Catherine Rose Martin Blake
Beloved Mother
Born February 1st, 1860 - Died May 5th, 1917
The priest recited the parting words in the sermon almost in a mechanical voice as the coffin was lowered into the ground.
Emmy squeezed Molly's hand before going to Will and placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. She would've pressed one upon his lips if they hadn't been at a funeral and they were not in an appropriate place to be overly affectionate...
He nodded supportively toward her as she went to Joseph's side at the edge of the open grave, watching the dirt fall on the mahogany lid of the coffin. She threw the roses down into the hole where they landed on the lid as a farewell to the woman who had been a motherly presence in her life, however brief Emmy's acquaintanceship of Catherine was.
Emmy then gently clutched onto Joseph's arm and laid her head on his shoulder. Joe himself did his damndest to keep his stiff upper lip intact while around the woman he loved and his friends of the Schofield family. He watched the soil cover the entirety of the coffin as the diggers continued to throw more dirt into the hole.
His whole body began to shiver, Emmy's arm around his broad back being the only thing keeping him from falling to his knees in pure anguish... Tears streamed down his clean shaven cheeks, dripping along his chin as he closed his eyes. As calm darkness graced his sight, the feeling of Emmanuelle at his side tethering him to his remaining sanity as he heard her musically non-refined voice crooning some verses from a song he had never heard before.
Joseph's grief-stricken heart overflowed in growing love for her with each word she sang from her untrained golden throat, their intertwined hands anchoring him to the Earth.
"No more memories,
No more silent tears,
No more gazing across the wasted years,
Help me say goodbye..."*
.
.
The remainder of the evening passed in a muted acceptance as the Schofields and Emmy accompanied Joseph back to his home. Molly and Emmy coordinated a fulfilling supper for Joseph, knowing he wouldn't have the fortitude or energy for some time to cook for himself.
They all sat at the dining table, Will next to Emmy and Joe sitting on her opposite side. Cici and Elle were next to Molly on the other side of the table.
Molly, being the eldest in the room, took leadership to begin the meal proper, her regal head held high. "Before we start eating, we should all say something we're thankful for in the difficult times we're in. Would anyone like to go first?"
Will raised his head, clearing his throat as he looked to Joe, who nodded in agreement for the corporal to say what was on his mind. "I'm glad to be here for our friend Joseph Blake and to know him and his beloved mother Mrs. Blake, however brief my time was in knowing her. And I've been grateful to know Thomas Blake, who led me in France on the path to the woman I love with everything I am."
He turned his softened stare to Emmy as she met his eyes and he gently lifted her scarred hand to his lips, kissing her delicate fingers. She fought a blooming blush coloring her cheeks as she gave him a small smile.
She looked to Molly on the table's other side, giving her the signal to speak up. The sister of the man Emmy loved fixed the bow in Cici's hair before opening her mouth to talk. "I'm grateful for the friendship that's bound all of us together and that we were there for Catherine Blake in her final moments. Also, I pray this dreaded war will end soon and all of our men and women come home safely."
Cici and Elle took their chance to speak too, with their mother nodding in approval to forgo the ancient notion that children should be seen, not heard. Molly knew they were in an age of women's blossoming freedom and she wanted her daughters to use their voices.
Cecilia talked first, her sweet innocent voice filling the air to thaw all the adults' hearts. "I'm glad to have my mummy every day, my sissy Elle and my uncle Will to play with me and my Aunty Emmy telling me stories every night."
Elle spoke next, her small voice rising to the dining room ceiling. "I love my mummy and Cici... and I'm glad Uncle Will has Aunty Emmy so he won't be lonely anymore."
Molly smiled warmly at Elle, stroking her hair as Emmy squeezed Will's hand underneath the table. Joe grinned adoringly at the little girls, remembering how his mother had wanted a daughter in the family before their father abandoned them for Catherine to raise the two boys by herself when Joseph was just a teenager.
Emmy felt everyone's eyes on her as she sensed it was her turn to speak. Will's thumb tenderly stroked her knuckles in encouragement as he cradled her hand in his, caressing the promise ring on her finger. Joe looked to her in silent adoration, the ocean blue of his eyes slightly faded with exhaustion, waiting to hear what lovely words would emerge from her lips.
"I...I just wanted to say... that I've learned more about love and friendship in the four weeks since I've come to know and care about each and every one of you than in my entire life in my own era." Emmy inhaled a deep breath to keep herself from outright sobbing. "I've received love here... and I'm forever grateful to everyone and I'll remember all of you...when I have to leave soon."
Molly released a melancholic sigh as Will enfolded his arm around Emmy and imprinted the most gentle of kisses on her forehead, with-holding his own tears from flowing down his face.
"I love you, Emmanuelle...always. No matter time or distance." Will's velvet voice whispered in her ear, as though he were saying his own personal vow of faithfulness and everlasting devotion beyond the ring on her hand and his repaired watch inscribed with her own declaration of fidelity.
A sob escaped Emmy's mouth, causing her to gulp down any approaching hysterics threatening to make her collapse. They almost forgot they had an audience as she forced herself to pull away from her corporal and turn to Joseph...
Poor, grieving Joseph...
How Emmy hated herself for hurting him so in not returning his own love for her. His mother barely cold in the ground before she had to go away too...
She leaned to him and wrapped her arms around him in another embrace which he immediately reciprocated, wanting more than anything to hold her for eternity. But, he was not the man to have such a privilege, for neither he nor Will had the power to keep her with them.
They were running out of time with her.
"I'm grateful for all of you here and that Tom's seat beside me isn't empty tonight." Joseph glanced with a meaningful look to Emmy with a soft smile before locking his eyes with everyone else present at the table. "I don't know what I would've done if I'd endured today alone. And dearest Emmy... I'd give anything for you not to leave us now." He squeezed her other hand, their fingers intertwining together.
Emmy nodded forlornly, hearing the noises of Molly's and the girls' chairs scraping against the wooden floor as they rose up and went to enfold her in their own hug of just the women in the room.
As all the girls stood embracing one another, Joe and Will made eye contact, remaining silent as they nodded in mutual understanding and respect of one another. They would both be bound not only in regards to Tom Blake and as war comrades, but as the men whose hearts belonged to Emmanuelle Julia Hunterson of the year 2020.
.
.
May 9th, 1917
It was the day Lance Corporal William Christopher Schofield of the 8th Devonshire Regiment was due to leave Surrey and be on the train back to France.
At 10:00 sharp, Molly planned to accompany him to the station with Emmy. The girls had been taken to school at 8:00 that morning after saying a tearful goodbye to their Uncle Will.
After Molly returned back to the house back from the school, Will gathered up his supplies, looking to the stairs for Emmy come down from her room. It was approaching 9am and she still hadn't emerged downstairs.
Will had thought that strange since she hadn't seemed particularly tired the night previous, but had retired to bed early shortly after supper. His lips still felt her kiss she had bestowed upon him before going up to her room, ethereal and heavenly in her white nightdress, his beautiful chocolate haired Emmy...
"Has she still not come down, Will? Perhaps she's not well." Molly stated as she made her way up the stairs, a knot of anxiety forming in her stomach, sensing a darkness enveloping the upper level of the house, a dread of seeing what was in the spare room...
Molly cautiously made her way to the bedroom door and slowly opened it, her hand clutching onto her abdomen as a crushing nausea threatened to bring the dignified woman to her knees in disbelief and defeat.
"Will! Come up here now!" Molly's voice yelled in an alarmed tone and Will wasted no second in jumping up at the sound of his sister sounding so broken and fearful.
His soldier instincts flared in the forefront of his mind as he raced up the staircase, protective and prepared to defend his sister and his sweetheart from whatever force dared to menace them.
Good Lord, if either of them were harmed...
Will made it to the top of the staircase and sped through the small foyer, going straight to Molly as she stood in the guest bedroom doorway. He placed his hand to her cheek, giving his sister a relieved onceover to see that she wasn't hurt, yet tears streamed down her cheeks.
A chill of arctic torment snaked up Will's spine as he absorbed the haunting sight of the empty bedroom, his beloved Emmy nowhere to be found. The bed was flawlessly made as though it had never been slept in, the pillows fluffed and leaning against the intricately carved wood frame and the covers folded neatly with no wrinkles.
A noise between that of a pained groan and a childlike whimper dangled from his mouth as he saw on the bed his St Christopher medallion he had given her back at the Second Devons' camp and a plain white envelope with his name, only two words printed in her careful diligent handwriting:
My Will
His shaking hand reached for the envelope and opened it, pulling out a single sheet of notepaper folded in half.
He read what she had written aloud, his knees almost buckling as he sat himself on the vanity seat. Molly sat upon the bed, taking the medallion in her hand as she listened to her brother's heartbroken voice, each word he read trickling with devastation and longing for the vanished woman he yearned to hold in his arms until they were physically parted at the train station.
My handsome, sweet William...
My heroic soldier,
If you're reading this, by now I'll have been transported back to 2020 London. Last night, I went to sleep and I heard Tom's voice in my dreams telling me I will awaken in my hotel room.
I'm regretful to not be there when you leave back for France tomorrow morning. But I beg of you, please don't let your missing me prevent you from following through with your duties, like if you and I had not met that day on April 6th. Please tell Molly that she's the sister I never had, being an only child from a broken family. And Cici and Elle are so lovely and darling little angels. I've never had more enjoyment than I have than helping them with their schoolwork and listening to their laughter.
I promise I'll find a way to return after I deal with Erik. I don't know exactly how I'll bring him down from his pedestal of advantage, but I'll make sure he can never hurt any woman ever again. I'll never remove the ring you made for me from your dog tag chain and I'll leave you this picture for you to remember me and to keep in your tin.
I love you all so much. Molly, Cecelia, Giselle...
I love you more than anything, my prince, my English knight in uniform. I love you, William Schofield.
No matter time or distance. I'm yours as you're mine. Across a century separating us, I'll come back to you.
Love evermore and beyond, your Emmy
XXX
William wiped away some oncoming tears so he wouldn't risk splotching the ink written on the parchment. Every word she had scribed was sculpted forever in his heart and his memory, away for his to dream about her voice reading to him. Dreams of lying with her in bed, entwined together with tangled sheets in the hazy aftermath of consummating their courtship as she spoke of everything inside the scope of human knowledge...
He reached in the envelope and pulled out a photograph of Emmanuelle, in brilliant Technicolor rather than the customary Edwardian black and white. From what he recalled, this was her in work attire from her place of employment in the library in Virginia where she had been singled out as "Employee of the Month". Her hair tied in a bun behind her head and her bewitching emerald eyes framed in ebony edged spectacles, a modest smile gracing her flower petal lips, the very vision of professionalism and poise while still glowing with kindness and intelligence.
A photograph of the woman most precious to him; never had a more stunning visual stopped his heart so.
He swallowed back an approaching sob as he arched his head up straight, meeting Molly's reddened eyes as they had their own silent conversation as siblings of reassurance. William pecked a brief kiss to the picture of his beloved and gently folded it into the letter before placing both back into the envelope to preserve them before he would later contain them in his tin of personal possessions. He slid the envelope into the inner pocket of his uniform where it rested against his heartbeat, inhaling a deep breath as he stood on his now steady legs and helped Molly onto her feet from the bed.
She reached up and clasped the medallion around his neck, then stood on her tiptoes to enfold him in her arms, finding comfort in each other before their family was to be torn apart again by war.
He had to keep faith that Emmy would be by his side again. She had to return...
He would find her once more should she still want him. Make love to her, marry her and live without shame.
.
.
That same morning, Joseph Blake awoke in the living parlor to the sound of Myrtle barking. He had slept on the chaise, having passed out with a half empty glass of brandy, which didn't aid in his goal of floating into fogging dreams.
His dark hair awry in chaotic curls atop his head, he threw an arm over his eyes as the female Labrador continued her persistent barking, having returned outside through her dog door.
Joe groaned in discomfort as he forced himself to sit up, blinking the sleep away from his eyes, running his fingers over the top of his head. A force of habit he still couldn't shake, he listened for the sound of his mother bustling around in the kitchen...
And then he remembered... all was silent.
He battled the urge to burst into tears like a lost youth as Myrtle came up to him, placing a consoling paw on his knee as her large black eyes met his own. Joe took notice of her ever expanding abdomen with her growing puppies. He made a mental note to take her to the veterinarian and have her examined.
The loyal canine's tail wagged as she sat down and the lieutenant saw something she was carrying in her mouth between her teeth.
"What have you got there, ol' girl?" Joe softly asked her, petting her ears before taking the object she had brought to him.
A crisp white envelope with his name inked on the front in neat printed letters. Graceful calligraphy from a lady's hands...
Dearest Joe
His heart dropped to the bottom of his ribcage as his ever trembling hands opened the folding of the envelope and pulled out stark white paper, a letter meant for him as he absorbed every word imprinted in the comprehensible words of fair Emmy Hunterson.
How he envied the pen and paper with which this letter had been scribed, blessed with her gentle touch...
Joe read each word with direct attention, blocking out every other possible distraction, including the faint buzzing in his ears from the deafening silence of his once lively, jubilant home.
My best friend, my Heathcliff
We all knew this day was coming soon. By the time you're reading this, I'll have been taken away back to my era of 2020, most likely in London where I last was when everything happened. Please don't do anything you may regret in missing me. Think of Tom and your mother, they're both watching over you and they wouldn't want you to go crazy over someone like me.
But I don't want this to be a letter of mourning, after everything we've been through. Just please be rational and read this carefully with what I want to say to you. I know Erik is waiting for me like a spider waiting to catch me in his web as the prized butterfly. He'll try to possess me, but I won't let him. I'm not scared of him anymore, at least not as much as I used to be. Despite his wealth and influence, he's still just a man. Yes, he's a horrendous fiend, but he holds no power over me anymore. I will find a way to bring him down to where he'll never violate another woman again like he did with me.
After he's dealt with and I've also made amends with my mother, I'll come back to be with my new family here that I've found. I meant every word I said that night after your mother's funeral. Knowing you has meant the world to me and I cannot thank you enough for everything you've done for me even though I've had little to give back to you. Please, don't let my absence prevent you from continuing with your life. Just, please survive this war... for me. I couldn't live with myself if I returned to see your name on a memorial wall.
I know I've caused you pain with my rejecting your feelings for me, but the last thing I want to do is string you along. And please keep in your mind whenever you feel like life isn't worth living anymore, that you have my very soul, as Will has my heart. Like Cathy Earnshaw says in 'Wuthering Heights', if you were to die, I would cease to be alive along with you.
I will come back in one way or another. Inside with this letter is a picture of myself to show you what I look like in my own era. Something to think of and keep with you whenever you feel lost during our time apart...
I'll miss you and think of you every moment. And take care of sweet Myrtle and her puppies. Cici and Elle have been begging to keep one after they're born.
All my love forever,
Your dearest one, Emmy
X
Joe failed to hold back his tears as he folded up the paper with utmost care so the parchment wouldn't tear or the ink wouldn't smudge. He looked in the envelope to see a photograph of Emmanuelle, in bright vivid colors of every variation in the rainbow.
He had never seen anything more radiant in all his days, not even the serene scenery of the Flanders countryside compared. Emmy smiled with a humble expression at the camera, glasses upon her face, perched on her nose to emphasize the green of her enchanting eyes.
Those very eyes that made him realize he was in love before he even knew her name...
Her chocolate waterfall of hair wrapped behind her head, a few stray strands hanging upon her blossom pink cheeks. Her attire was modest, mute colors of a grey and black blouse with the picture only being from her shoulders up. She never needed to flaunt her looks, nor had she forsaken the passionate temperamental fire residing in her veins. He could only deduce that this was from the library where she earned her living in Virginia.
He read every word of her letter over and over while clutching onto her photo, hearing Myrtle's concerned whine as he slid from the chaise down to his knees on the floor.
That was when the realization struck him with what he was denying.
Emmy was gone... the cruel rivers of time had swept her away.
The woman he treasured had left. Tom left, his mother left.
Why did everyone leave?
Myrtle laid by Joseph's side, whining along with his wracking sobs as he placed Emmy's letter and photograph down on the floor before him.
The quiet of the house and miserable environment around him were nearly overwhelming enough to swallow Joseph whole as the loss of Emmanuelle, his dearest one, the other half of his soul, was disappeared and he had no method of bringing her back.
As he shut his eyes, burying his face in his hands, he saw the brief vision of her beautifully motionless ivory gowned body lying on a bed, her eyelids closed... surrounded by flowers, illuminated in darkness by candles.
That other photograph she had burnt in his fireplace...
Joseph shouted her name in the most excruciating scream, shattering the mocking calm around him, his aching throat raw from weeping as he knelt on the ground in sorrow, even startling Myrtle enough for her to flee the room.
"EMMY!"