Always on My Mind (Stanmore FC Soulmates #2)

16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Rain plastered Jamie’s kit to her body and her wet ponytail clung to the back of her neck. Mud painted her shorts and legs. In true London fashion, it was pouring, but that didn’t stop the match between Stanmore and Everton. Even with the chill of early November in the air. A cold breeze made gooseflesh erupt over Jamie’s skin, but she shook it off and jogged toward their end to defend a corner.

The referee blew her whistle. The Everton winger sent the ball in a high arc toward the center of the goal. Eliana leaped forward through the jostling players, her fists raised, and punched the ball back into the dark sky.

“I got it!” Jamie shouted.

She shoved a defender off her back and followed the ball. She ran to meet it, building momentum to leap into the air. She reared back to strike it with her head.

Only she didn’t get the ball. She caught a mere flash of the opponent’s boot before it slammed into her forehead. Her vision went black, and she collapsed onto the soaking pitch. The crowd’s collective gasp faded in her ears, along with her teammates’ shouts of her name, as if she was turning down the volume of her television.

When Jamie opened her eyes, she was back on the ship from her dream. She was Abigail again, seeking out Verity in the darkness aboard a ship headed for Jamestown. They found each other, reassured each other, and then leaped into the sea together. As her body plunged into the water, the image shifted.

She lifted her skirts and ran from her closet. Her candle waited for her by the door in its holder. She lifted it carefully to light her way through the grand house. Once down the stairs, she slipped into her husband’s study. She opened each drawer in the large mahogany desk, frantic for something, anything, that she could use to leave a note for Aisling. Finally, in the top right-hand drawer, she found a loose leaf of parchment.

She slapped it onto the desk and snatched up her husband’s quill. Holding her sleeve back, she dipped it in the ink. Then she began to write. She hardly had the words for what she was going to do. But it was her only choice. After all, if she abandoned her husband, he might take the children with him anyway, and she couldn’t bear to be parted from them. He so often used them as weapons against her. And what life would there be for her and Aisling? Revolution or not, there was nothing for them. Nothing real.

Aisling, I’m sorry , she wrote. She had to begin with an acknowledgment of the wrong she was doing. Sneaking away in the night to get back to England and leaving the house and staff behind was not what she wanted. She wrote the only explanation she had. Arthur thought, with the growing rumblings of revolution, it would be better for us to return to England as a family. I have left some money for you in my shoe, the third pair on the left in my closet. I hope you will make a life for yourself. I know this must be difficult, but you must understand. There’s no place for us. Not really. Maybe, if we lived in a slightly more tolerant world, we could do as we wished. But it isn’t to be. I shall always remember you and our time together. –Kitty

She dropped the quill and read it over. Should she have said “I love you” somewhere in the note? They had whispered it to each other in the still of night, after Kitty had escaped the bedchamber she shared with her husband and snuck away to be with Aisling.

No, it was better this way. If the roles were reversed, reading those words would only hurt and make things worse. Kitty sat back in the chair, hating herself. It was impossible to win. To choose Aisling would be to betray her family. Choosing her family meant betraying Aisling. How had fate dealt her such a cruel hand? Was it God’s way of punishing her for being unfaithful to her husband? A husband she had only married to secure a life for herself, but still. An affair was an affair. No matter how much love might exist between them.

Calling it off was the right thing. Putting an ocean between them was the only way they would truly remain apart. She steeled herself against her desire to remain. No matter how much it hurt, she would erect a wall around her heart so that she would never have to face this again. Aisling was her last and only love.

She folded up the note, found an envelope, and tucked her last words to Aisling inside. Carrying her candle, she returned to her room, where she slid the letter between two books, peeking out so that Aisling would be able to find it.

Then she had to pack. She swiped her jewelry into her first bag, nearly clearing the dresser in one go. Tears burned at the back of her eyes. She blinked them away. There was no time for tears now. Her focus had to be on herself and her children. She knew they would ask about Aisling, their beloved governess. Kitty tried to come up with a few reasons they might be leaving her behind. None of them felt right. None of this felt right.

She grabbed her clothes and stuffed them into her trunk before shutting it with a slam.

The scene changed. When she looked around, she saw metal bed frames with thin mattresses lining each wall. Nurses in gray caps and white aprons, with red crosses on their arms bands, flitted back and forth across the ward. She glanced down to find herself in the same uniform, sitting in a chair next to an occupied bed.

The soldier beside her was missing his right leg below the knee. A bandage covered his forehead. A cast encased his left arm. He stared at her through shining brown eyes. Eyes that reminded her of Rosie’s.

“So. . . what d’you think?” he said.

“What?” she replied breathlessly.

“Nurse Dinah, I asked if you would marry me.”

She blinked. “Oh! Oh, golly, Roger, I—”

“I’m not just asking because of the way you’ve taken care of me. I’m quite fond of you, and I. . . well, I would take care of you, Dinah.”

“Roger, the war is still on.”

“It’ll be over any day now. Do you already have a man in your life? Is that your plan for after?”

“I. . . ”

She found herself lost for words. She didn’t have a man. She had Rosie. Who was arguably the love of her life. Impassioned kisses stolen in store rooms flooded to the front of her mind. Nights after a shift holding each other until sleep took them. It was all well and good now. But if the war was truly to be over soon, what happened next?

“I don’t have any plans for after the war,” she said. “I can hardly think of that now.”

“You should. The war will end, Dinah. And what will you do?”

She didn’t have an answer. Her parents were gone, and she had no other close family. She would be on her own in the world. She had counted on marrying a boy from back home in London, but he had been killed in the fields of France. Perhaps it was fate that put Roger on her rotation each day.

He was kind. He asked about her work as a nurse and was cooperative with the doctors. He never spoke harshly to anyone, and he came from a decent family in Brighton. Perhaps life with him wouldn’t be so bad.

But there was Rosie. How could she explain Rosie to anyone? The love between them burned hot as a wildfire. Society would never accept their relationship. They had talked about the future, but in broad terms, never laying out specific plans. After all, what future could there be between them? Confirmed old maids living together? People would still talk.

“I don’t know,” she told him. “As I said, I haven’t thought of it.”

“I think I could make you happy, Dinah,” he said. “My family lives right on the coast. We could forget all the terrible things we’ve seen here and watch the sea every morning.”

She peered at him for a long moment. “It does sound nice. . . ”

“It will be peace beyond peace, Dinah. Think about it.”

She was thinking about it. And the truth was, there was no place for a young woman with no family and no husband. Once the war was over, the only work available would be more nursing. And she never wanted to hear men screaming and dying ever again. She wanted to hear the waves lapping at the shore and seagulls calling over the wind.

“Yes, Roger. I will marry you.”

A smile lit up his face. For the first time since he had come into this hospital on a stretcher, he was happy. She couldn’t help but smile back.

“Oh, Dinah, you won’t regret it,” he said through an elated sigh. “You’ve made me the happiest man in the world.”

She put a hand on his arm. “Don’t get too excited. You still need to rest and get healthy. Then we can think about what happens after the war.”

He reached up and patted her fingers. “Thank you, Dinah.”

“Would you like me to read to you?” she offered.

“I’d love it.”

“More poetry?”

“Absolutely.”

She pulled her Emily Dickinson book from her pocket, opening it with a pang of guilt. It had been a gift from Rosie. And now she was going to break Rosie’s heart. It killed her to do it. But maybe in another life, where she was braver and bolder. For now, she wanted to be safe. That was what the war had taught her—above all else: be safe.

Jamie!

Someone was calling her, but they sounded as if they were on the other end of a tunnel. She wanted to open her eyes, but her lids were too heavy. She wanted to slip back into the dark.

Jamie, can you hear me?

The voice sounded somewhat familiar, but she couldn’t place it. She hardly even felt like Jamie. She was Abigail and Kitty and Dinah. They lived and breathed within her. They were her. She carried their love as well as their fear. She wanted Verity, Aisling, and Rosie—Tessa. No matter the name, she wanted the sweet brown eyes, soft blonde hair, and passionate heart of her love.

“Jamie!”

Jamie opened her eyes to the faces of her Stanmore teammates surrounding her. Monika, Niamh, and Zahra came in clearest at first, followed by Eliana and their manager, Rebecca. Calling out was their physio, Ruby. Her coily curls were slicked back into a bun over her dark face, where Jamie fixed her gaze. She wondered when it had stopped raining.

“There we go,” Ruby said. “Jamie, can you hear me?”

Jamie tried to nod, but it made her head throb. “Yes.”

“Do you know where you are?”

“Hospital,” Jamie murmured back.

“Not quite, but we’ll get you there. Can you tell me what year it is?”

Numbers swirled around in Jamie’s head. “It’s 1918. The war’s almost over.”

“Jesus,” Ruby muttered. “I’d say it’s looking like a concussion.”

“Fuck,” Rebecca said.

Ruby waved over some more medical staff. More faces appeared and Jamie winced, closing her eyes against anything else she might have to see. Ruby patted her cheek.

“Don’t sleep, Jamie,” she said. “We need you to be alert.”

“I’m tired,” Jamie groaned. “Head hurts.”

“I know it does, love. Someone nearly kicked your skull in. But stay awake. Once we know how severe it is, you’ll be able to get some rest.”

“My book,” Jamie muttered. “I want my book.”

“Your poems, Jamie?” Zahra’s voice asked. “The book in your locker?”

“Yes, my poems. Emily. . . whatever her name is.”

“I’ll fetch it.”

“Zahra, you’ve got to get back to the match,” Rebecca protested.

“I’ll only be a moment, gaffer,” Zahra said, and then she was gone.

A dozen hands jostled Jamie onto a stretcher. She wanted her book. That was the connection, the thing that had started it all. It was rightfully hers. A gift from the love of all of her lives.

As the medical staff lifted Jamie off the grass, Zahra came skidding to a halt beside them. She took Jamie’s hand and tucked the hard cover under Jamie’s arm. Jamie smiled weakly at her.

“Thank you so much,” she said.

“Of course,” Zahra panted back. “We’re here for you, Jamie. Tell us once you’re well, okay?”

She and the rest of her teammates came over to pat her on her arms and legs, and she felt the well wishes in every touch. Then a woman she didn’t recognize came over. A young brunette with a soaking braid down her back and tears in her dark eyes. She wore the Everton crest on her chest. She took Jamie’s free hand.

“I’m really sorry, Jamie,” she said. Her accent told Jamie she was likely a Liverpool native. “I didn’t mean it, honest.”

“S’alright,” Jamie assured her. “Thanks.”

She meant it with the thank you. That woman had opened Jamie’s eyes to the link she didn’t even know she was missing. The only thing now was for her to find out if Tessa felt it too. She waved to the fans and a fresh drop of rain hit her arm.