Chapter 18

[girlyswot]

The news was good that night and Nicola, without the help of the doctor’s pills, slept well.  She got up with Patrick and sent him off to the hawks with a smile and a wave at half-past six, intending to use the next hour to catch up on a whole host of chores that were easier without childish hindrances.  Without thinking, she reached to switch on the radio in the kitchen.

The news blared out, unfeasibly loud, waking the household.  Sunk.  A British ship.  No name at this stage.  Men were dead.  Maybe fifty.  More news when available.

 

Dead.  Fifty men.  It might not be.  Better to tell yourself it is than to keep hoping it’s not.  Sunk.  Dead.  What if it were Daddy?  What if it were Binks?  Surely not both?  Oh God.  It might not be.  Probably not.  But what if it were?

 

Nicola sat down, unable to do anything.  She was conscious of a longing for Patrick but told herself there was nothing he could do.  Perhaps in a minute there would be more news.  The ship.  A list of names.  Of the dead men.

 

The phone rang, almost unheard through the noise of the radio and the maelstrom of Nicola’s thoughts.  Trembling, she picked up the receiver.

‘Hullo?’

‘Nick?  Have you heard the news?  Oh, yes, I can hear you have.’  Rowan’s voice, sounding calm as usual.

‘Y…yes.’

‘Well, listen, there’s no need to panic.  Daddy’s safe and he thinks Peter’s okay too.  He managed to phone Ma.  Alright, Nick?’

‘Y…yes.  Alright.  Did he say he’d seen Binks?’

‘Not actually seen.  But he’d had a word with the Commander of his ship who’d said he’d lost all his gunners.’

‘Oh.  Well that wouldn’t be Binks.’

‘No.  Quite.  Listen, Nick, is Patrick there?’

‘No.  He went down to the hawks and then I think he was heading over to you.’

‘Okay.  But you’re not on your own?’

‘Well, there’s the children…’

‘What time does Nellie come?  And Fob?’

‘I don’t know.  Um, about eight, usually.’

‘Right.  In that case, Mum says she’s coming over.  She’ll be about ten minutes, I should think.’

‘Oh.  She doesn’t have to.  I mean, I’m fine.’

‘Yes, I daresay but she’ll only worry about you if she’s here so she’s coming.’

‘Oh.  Okay.’

 

The children came and went, Fob taking charge of the small fry, leaving Mrs Marlow with her daughter and a pot of tea.  Patrick looked in soon after nine.

‘Rowan’s told me the news.  You haven’t heard any more?’

Nicola shook her head.

‘D’you want me to stay?’

‘No.  I’ll be fine.’  But Patrick was looking across at his mother-in-law who nodded. 

‘If you wouldn’t mind, Patrick.  I ought to be at home.  In case anyone rings.’

‘Yes.  Thank you for coming.’  She nodded and managed a small smile.

 

Patrick saw her out and came back to sit beside his wife.  ‘Shall we watch?’

She nodded.

‘Our heaviest losses of the campaign so far have been sustained due to the sinking of HMS Lightfoot.’  Nicola let out her breath.  ‘Over sixty men are missing believed killed as a result of Argentine torpedo attacks on the destroyer last night.’ 

‘Oh, God.  Turn it off, Patrick.  I can’t bear it.’  She turned and hid her face in his sweater. 

‘Hush.  You know what your father said.  It won’t be Peter.  It can’t be.’

She sobbed, nonetheless.

‘It might be him.  But even if it isn’t, it’s someone else.  Sixty men.  Sixty!  It can’t be worth it.’

‘Does Fob know?’

She nodded.  ‘Mum told her.  She didn’t want to watch.  She said she’d rather be with the children.’  She looked at her watch.  ‘I should get the babies.  I’m sorry, Pat.’

‘Sorry?’  He looked bemused.

‘For weeping on you.  Again.  This can’t be much fun for you either.’

‘Hey.  That’s what I’m here for.  Any time.  I mean it, Nick.  I’d much rather that than you hid it away and pretended you were alright.’

 

Looking back, Nicola remembered very little of that day.  Sounds - of the radio still blaring in the kitchen while she sat and tried to hide in Patrick’s sweater, of the telephone ringing louder than she’d ever heard it before, of the blast of the torpedo on the television, replaying over and over in her head.  And then Patrick’s face, coming back into the library after the phone had rung.  Remembering Fob and looking up to find her watching, horrified, then turning on her heel and running off out onto the Crowlands.

 

Telling the children, trying to explain, crying again, Nick’s desperate attempt to keep a steady face, Jon’s silent horror, Katie climbing into her lap and trying to comfort her mother.

 

They flew the body back.  Giles, off his crutches, Patrick, Thomas and Edwin carried the coffin into the church.  Nicola heard no words the vicar said, nor could she watch as they threw earth on to the oak box which was all that was left of her brother.  

Author's note: Sorry, I know you all saw it coming.  If it's any consolation, I was equally devastated when I realised I had to write it.

Comments

[helenprev.livejournal.com]

Ohhhhhhhhh...... :-(

I wish I hadn't read this sat at the dining table surrounded by my children.

Horrible. But thank you. Beautifully written too.

[meerium.livejournal.com]

oh noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo :(

god, i really shouldn't read these things in work.

beautifully written of course, but poor stoical, patient fob!

[jen-c-w.livejournal.com]

likewise...I didn't see it coming, and again am close to tears. And yes, fantastically written. God, everything's changed so much...Just one query, and I realise it's not necessarily for now - but you said something about ginja having troubles with her man - do we get to hear how it's all resolved?

[bookwormsarah.livejournal.com]

Oooohhhh... you've really been spoiling up over the last few days - but that waas such a sad ending to the chapter. I had to read it twice to make sure I hadn't made a mistake the first time.

[colne-dsr.livejournal.com]

Only twice? I'm still wondering if I've made a mistake.

[(Anonymous)]

You KILLED PETER!!!!!!! How could you? What's poor Fob supposed to do now? I'd almost rather you'd killed off Giles, then we could have had interesting ramifications over who inherits Trennels. Do Giles and Mary have any children yet? Nicola's life seems to be going from bad to worse at the moment, now she is bereaved as well as being mum to 6 tiny tots and having no life. I'll be interested to see how, or if, you rescue her from this situation.

[girlyswot.livejournal.com]

'interesting ramifications over who inherits Trennels'

Now there's a thought...

[alliekiwi.livejournal.com]

Argh, that was so sad! Here it is, just after the 25th anniversary of the Falklands and i'm reading this about someone dying. (Actually, it was the 25th anniversary of my hubby's cousin going down with the General Belgrano only a couple of weeks ago).

*bawls*

[stripydinosaur.livejournal.com]

AAAAAAh! Peter was my favourite!!!