well I finally finished my new story. . .its supposed to be a short one. . .so here it is. . .enjoy
If Wars Could Love
If only I could remember, he thought, as his grimy fingers traced along the faded bent photo of a handsome young women. Her face was pale and beautiful, her dark hair pulled back away from her face. She smiled very slightly, on the back of the photo read “To my dearest Christian, Yours always Evey”
It was 1918, and March was taking a heavy toll on the French countryside. One knee was wrapped in a blood stained bandage, while his other leg was twelve inches deep in mud. His face flecked with small cuts, and crusted with mud and blood. He couldn’t leave with his unit, his injury prevented him from doing so. So there Christian sat, along with five other men unable to leave, left to die. One soldier was barely hanging onto life, a large chunk of his skull had been shot off, Christian changed the bandage for him every few hours. Every time, he changed it, a large flap of skin peeled down revealed pink brain tissue, and green puss around the outside. Christian used to wince away, but now he was used to the wound. The man should have been dead, but his heart continued to beat. Help head to come, though it seemed like the only thread of hope had left with his frail unit. The only peace Christian had was putting his mind back on Evey. Her milky skin her brown eyes, her dark brown hair, her lushes lips of which he remembered vividly seemed to take its toll on him.
****
One year ago, Christian landed himself in London, England to preside over his sickly grandmother. Christian was born in the States; his father was an owner of an oil company, so wealth was on his side. But as dinner parties generally go, Christian was there to represent his family. When at the mercy of his heart, there she stood, soundly in a light blue silk dress. Her rich brown hair was pulled back tightly with only a few small ringlets dangling below. She was absolutely the most beautiful creature Christian had ever seen, and he could not ignore her. His eyes traced all sorts of areas where eyes should not dare to go. More than anything he wished to speak to her. Evey was the oldest daughter of an English gentleman. She had one younger sister and one older brother. Her sister was the voice of the party, she was only sixteen, and extremely loud almost to the point of shamefulness.
Christian got up the courage and walked over towards his beautiful goddess. She was standing next to a woman who looked like Evey thirty years in the future. Lady Eliza Brookes was just that, the spitting image of her eldest daughter and yet she seemed frail and very pale, the few years of war had taken a beating on her. Her only son was over in France, a surgeon in the British Red Cross near the front line, and very little news had been reported back from him.
“May I have the pleasure of meeting your acquaintance?” Christian extended his hand towards Evey. She looked straight into Christian’s deep blue eyes.
“Yes you may sir.” Her accent was beauty to Christian. “My name is Ms. Evey Brookes, and this is my mother Lady Eliza Brookes. My father, Lord Brookes, is not here this evening, and I’m sure you’ve already bumped into my sister, Cordellia”
“It is an honor meeting both of you. My name is Christian Smith.”
“Related to Lady Catherine Smith?” Eliza looked Christian directly in the eyes.
“The same my Lady. I’m here in her honor. If only she were in better health.”
“So I have heard. I hope she recovers. It would be a pity for London to lose such an accomplished woman” Christian’s grandmother was a former suffragette, and so was Eliza.
“I’m sure she will.” Silence fell between the three of them. Just when Christian was about to give up hope of ever talking to Evey alone, a savior came.
“Lady Eliza, please would you enlighten us with some music?” One of the other women from across the room called over, and Eliza couldn’t refuse.
“Your mother seems very accomplished?” Christian looked over to Evey.
“Yes, she is. You’re an American, why has your great and powerful country not entered the war?” That note struck Christian hard. America, as President Wilson had wanted to remain neutral in the war, since it really had nothing to do with the United States.
“Well, I would guess that it had not expanded towards our land.”
“So millions will die, before America will fight?” At first it sounded like Evey was offended, but when she looked back over at Christian, her heart softened. His close clean cut blonde hair was slicked back, accenting his soft tan skin. He was by far not British, at least not in appearance, but in soul he could be.
****
White curtains lined the walls, as bright clear sunlight spilled through the cracks between the folds. Christian lay softly in the white bed, his leg sticking out, bandaged cleanly, small stitches lining his face and neck. His eyes blurrily opened to a nurse with blonde hair and blue eyes, she looked like an angel holding a grey clipboard, and speaking in French. She looked at him, her smile warm and kind. She leaned in closely and touched Christian’s wounded knee, and a moment of pain made him sure that this was not heaven. He was alive, he had survived.
****
Christian quickly received a phone call; it was Lady Eliza inviting him over for dinner. This struck him as a bit strange, but didn’t mind. Walking on air all the way over, Christian was extremely nervous as he approached the front door. Their house was nearly as large as the Vanderbilt’s home, of course their wealth was much older than the Vanderbilt’s, and any mention of this would probably get him kicked out. Evey greeted Christian at the door, instead of a servant, which completely surprised him.
“Evening Mr. Smith.” Evey looked right into his blue eyes. Christian was completely stunned, and left speechless. “This dinner was completely my mother’s idea; she thinks you wish to court with me? Well, what are your intensions with me, Mr. Smith?” Evey stood in the doorway. Apparently Christian had to answer before he would be allowed in.
“Yes, I do, I wish to see you. I find you incredibly attractive.” Christian felt honesty was best, but there were a few choice words he left out. He thought to himself,
I also want to take you to bed, and discover every square inch of your body. But he kept those thoughts to himself.
“Good answer. . .” Evey walked away from the doorway into the foyer of the mansion. Christian took that as an invitation to come in. Walking up the steps leading to the home, he watched Evey as she let him inside. “Kiss me.” she leaned up against the door as she closed it. Completely stunned, Christian looked over at her. She was wearing a deep lavender dress, her hair was slightly tousled, and a bit messier than the previous time he had met her. Her dress fell in layers along her beautiful slender frame. Her brown eyes looked deep into Christian’s blue eyes.
“I think we should go further into the house, maybe you could give me a tour.” Christian was trying to change the subject to something, anything; he wasn’t sure how much more he could take without taking every bit of her.
“Fine.” She walked past Christian, but her hand brushed against his just slightly. Was she attracted to him, as he was to her? Christian wondered this deeply and he followed her further into the house.
“How many rooms does this place have?”
“Nearly two-hundred. . . want to see one of them?”
“Are you trying to get me into trouble?” Christian looked at Evey, she stared back at him.
“Hmm. . .possibly.” Evey stared back and Christian, there was a long pause before. . .
“There you two are, hurry, hurry dinner is about to start.” Eliza stood at the top of the staircase. She was elegantly dressed in a conservative black dress; her hair was pulled back tightly, with small strips of grey lightly peering through her dark brown hair. Evey joined her mother at the top of the stairs, as Christian ascended the large dark brown staircase. His eyes turned towards the large paintings that aligned the walls. The beating of his heart increased slightly as the two women were waiting for Christian at the dining room entrance. The large double doors opened, and in they walked.
****
“NEXT!” The man at behind the screen yelled out forcefully, as the young men moved one-step in line. Christian was next in line; his heart was beating so loudly that he could barely hear the man yelling for the next man to step forward.
“Name!” Christian looked at the man in fear. “NAME!”
“Christian Smith”
“Smith, fine, fine. Age?”
“Twenty-one”
“Alright, well that’s fine, step to the left so we can examine you.” Christian walked to the left into a white room where a doctor stood with a clipboard in his hands, and an eye chart on the far wall. Why was he doing this, it was not mandatory, was he completely insane, he was not even a British citizen. There was just something inside of him, it was a drive, a sense of manly duty. Christian remembered the argument he had had with his father after his grandmother’s funeral.
“There is no way in hell that I am going to allow my only son join this God forsaken war!!” Thomas Smith yelled at his son, passing back and forth in the large bedroom, stripping off his black bow tie and throwing it on the bed. His overbearing protectiveness of his only son of four children loudly broke through to Christian.
“Dad, please, I have to.” Christian remained calm.
“Have to what, no you don’t damn it. There is no law, no manly handbook that says you have to do this! You’re not even British!” Christian could hear his father plea. He knew his mother was standing in the hallway, not daring to venture inside the stuffy bedroom, listening to her husband beg his son not to go. She never like war, and didn’t want Christian to join either, but there really was nothing that could be done to prevent him.
“I’m sorry Dad, I really am. . .But millions are dying, and I just can’t stand by and do nothing. Fred and Pete have joined back home, and Michael was wounded, and came back fine. So I’m gonna do the same. I’ll come back home in one piece, I promise.”
“I don’t give a damn what your friends have been doing back home. You are my only son, my only heir, what am I supposed to do if you don’t come back. Did you ever think about that? What are your three sisters going to do if their brother doesn’t come back. And did you ever give any thought about your mother?” Thomas was now beat red with anger. His neatly kempt hair was now tousled from his hand running through it. “And take that damn outfit off, you’re not going and that’s final!”
Christian knew this argument was going nowhere. He stood soundly in his new green uniform. His hair shorter than it had ever been in his life, his skin was less tan, and his eyes were tired.
“I’m sorry. Tell mom that I love her.” And Christian left. He left his father wondering if his son would survive the terrible ordeal, he left his mother standing in the hallway with nothing but a slight glance at her only son. He left the world that he knew behind, only to travel to a world he could have never imagined.
****
“So, Christian, are you attracted to my daughter?” Christian’s eyes were about to fall out of his head.
“MOTHER!!” Evey shouted across from the other side of the table.
“Evey, darling, don’t yell. It’s un-lady like.” Eliza glanced at Evey who was a bright shade of red. “Now Christian, since you come from very good breading, I would have no objections to you courting my daughter.” Eliza looked over at Christian; his heart was beating so heavily that he could hardly hear her.
“I cannot believe she would do such a thing,” Evey said as she was walking Christian around the house. “Why didn’t you say anything? Honestly how could you let my Mum walk all over you?” Evey looked over at Christian, looking slightly pale.
“Honestly, I was caught off guard.” Christian looked over at Evey; she was utterly desirable as the soft light hit her bare arms. Christian moved slightly closer towards her, his heart was pounding loudly again. Quickly grabbing her wrist, he pulled her close to him. His lips pressing deeply against hers, covering every inch of her succulent mouth, slipping his tongue between her willing, parted lips. His hands ran across her hips, searching for the buttons of her dress. Evey ran her hands around the buttons on Christian’s jacket, quickly sliding it off, and working on the buttons of his shirt.
“My room is at the top of the stairs,” Evey whispered into Christian’s ear as she pulled away from him leading the way. Bursting into her room, the door was quickly shut as Evey leaned against it. Christian moved close to her, kissing her neck, moving down towards her shoulder, pulling on the straps of her dress. It was in his way, as he snagged some of the buttons loose, the elegant dress slowly slipped off her delicate body, onto the floor. Her hands maneuvered the buttons of his white shirt, slipping it off, tossing the unwanted shirt to the side. Next Evey’s hands went towards Christian’s black pants, getting it free, letting his pants slide down. Christian stepped out of them, moving even closer towards Evey, her ivory silk slip covered by her whale bone corset that revealed every curve of her body. Pressing himself hard against her body, she could feel his need, his want for her. His fingers fumbled with the laces of the corset, but soon managed to free her body, and she pulled him back towards her large bed. Christian wanted to explore every inch of her body, to touch every naked piece of flesh. His body moved above hers, her soft moans let him know that she was enjoying every minute of this. Caressing her breasts, kissing every inch of one, then moved to the next one, her hands caressing his strong arms up and down, while his lips explored her milky skin.
****
“Did you not think about us, about the future?!” Evey fumed at Christian as he stood in front of her in his new army uniform. His head hung low, as Evey paced back and forth.
“I. . .I had to, I’m sorry.” Christian looked at Evey, her eyes made him melt, and taking her in his arms he kissed her passionately.
“Why are you leaving me?” She whispered as she parted from the kiss. The train slowly deafened any other sound as it pulled up to the station. “Please write to me,” Evey looked helpless then, as she watched the man she loved part from her so quickly for an uncertain death. She knew millions had been killed already; her own brother was currently missing from the British Red Cross unit in France.
“I love you, I’ll come back to you. . .I promise.” Christian held Evey’s hand tightly in his, then suddenly releasing it, quickly turning grabbing his duffle bag and swiftly jumped onto the train. He never looked back; if he did he would not have stayed on the train. Taking his seat Christian looked out the window, Evey was there watching the train begin to take off. She started to walk with the train watching her lover leave her for the trenches of Northern France; she might never seem him again.
****
On top of crutches, slowly walking around, Christian had almost recovered. The stitches were gone, the cuts on his neck and face were healing, there was very little scaring on his body. His knee was still bandaged, but he was up and walking around. He was going to be released the following day; he was going to be shipped back to London. The war was nearing the end, and so was Christian’s army career. His knee cap had been almost shot off; he would have a limp for the rest of his life.
But on the day Christian was to depart from the battered French port, the ship was delayed. In a last desperate attempt German bombers departed from Northern France and headed to England dropping numerous bombs on London. Christian’s heart sunk, but in her last letter Evey said, that her mother had left for their summer cottage in Northern England, and that she and Cordellia would be joining her.
Slowly Christian waited for clearance to pass the channel. Five days later, Christian was back in London, evidence of the bombs still littered the streets. As he wobbled his way around the tattered streets he caught a glimpse of someone he knew. It was Cordellia.
“Christian! My word, here you are, we were so worried, and the army said that you were missing, since your unit was gone.” Cordellia looked older; the war no doubt had taken its toll on her.
“Yes, well I thought you would be at your summer cottage?”
“No no, Martin was found, and he was soon to be shipped back, so Evey wanted to come back, and that was five days ago.” Her voice trailed off.
“No, you weren’t in London then, please, where’s Evey!?” Christians face turned pale, he began to stammer back and forth.
****
“Evey this is not going to help; we will see Martin in a few days. He knows we are out here.” Cordellia shouted as her sister began to pack. “London is not safe. Aren’t you listening to me?” Walking into her room, Cordellia grabbed her sister’s arm. Evey’s face was completely set on leaving for London.
“I don’t care what you say damn it. I’m leaving for London in an hour.” Evey pulled her arm away from her younger sister. Only a few weeks ago had she learned that Christian was missing. Evey was not acting rational. Her brother was coming back, and yet her lover was possibly dead. She was not in the right mind set.
Two days later arriving in London, Evey the streets were bare, and many stores were closed due to evacuations from air raids. Evey didn’t care in the least that coming back to deserted city was dangerous; she wanted to surprise her darling brother. But unknown to Evey, German bombers were on their way towards London. She was completely oblivious to the sound of engines humming in the distance. Evey would never see her brother’s ship, nor would she reach to dock. She wasn’t scared, as the German planes Fokker D VII’s whizzed past her. She knew her end as she stood still as the German bombers quickly flew low around the city. Chaotic citizens ran in panic for any means of shelter. Evey watched as one bomb was dropped fifty feet away from her explode lifting a man fifteen feet into the air severing his left leg in the process. She watched one of the bombers fly so close to her that she fell backwards, staring straight at the man at the helm. Looking back at her he tossed a round black object from his cockpit towards Evey. Panic finally struck, as she struggled to gain her footing, the shell hit the ground releasing a wave of debris at her, pushing her back into the building’s side. Watching as if in slow motion, Evey saw another bomb fly back over her, the building was beginning to crumble. As blood trailed down her chin, Evey closed her eyes, and waited.
Christian glanced at the tattered photograph of his lost love resting in a brown frame sitting on his desk. He pondered every once in awhile, if during that year, twenty-four years ago, if he would be where he is today. He wondered if things were different, that his own son, now just eighteen, would not have to join this new World War. And then Christian thought,
if wars could love, would they too feel pain.
