Todd, Charles Read Online Free Page B

bloke asks her to dance, or to be his partner in a match?
    What then? Will she smile at me, and ask permission, and be relieved when I give it?"
    Rutledge had grinned. "Cold feet, Lieutenant? Where's the bane of the sappers, the man who never backed out of anything, even a burning tunnel?"
    "Yes, well, I was brave once too often. And it's cold foot, now. Do you know, I can still feel pain in my missing leg? Phantom pain, they call it, the nerve endings looking for something that isn't there and worrying themselves into knots."
    "That's common, I think?"
    "Apparently. But it's damned odd when it's your foot itching, and there's nothing there to scratch."
    They had laughed. But Edgar had drunk a little too much last night and was sleeping it off this morning.
    Rutledge watched that thin line of gray cloud for a time, decided that it was not growing any larger, and turned his attention to the sea below, tranquil before the turn of the tide. Behind him, the terrace door opened, and he looked up, expecting to see Edgar.
    Elise came out to join him. He hadn't heard her motorcar arriving in the forecourt, but she must have driven over from Dunster, looking for Edgar.
    He wished her a good morning as he rose to bring a chair forward for her. She sat down, sighed, and watched the gulls in her turn.
    "A penny for your thoughts?" he asked after a time.
    "I wish I knew what was worrying Edgar. It's frustrating, he won't talk to me. That makes me feel young, useless. And the wedding's tomorrow."
    He realized that she had come to find him, not Maitland. "You're several years younger in age," Rutledge pointed out gently. "And a hundred years younger in experience."
    She shrugged irritably. "I know. The war. I've been told that until I'm sick of it. It doesn't explain everything !"
    "In a way it does," Rutledge replied carefully. "It marked most of us. I expect that it will stay with us until we're dead."
    "Yes, but that's looking back, isn't it? You survived—and so there's life ahead, marriage, a family, a future. You and Edgar were the lucky ones. You lived. Now get on with it."
    He laughed. "Would that we could."
    "Oh, don't be silly, Ian, you know what I mean. If you stay bogged down in the trenches, then they've won. You went on with your profession. Edgar can go on with his. He's not the only man in England with one leg. He's not a freak. He's not unique. A solicitor can manage with one leg, for heaven's sake."
    He couldn't tell her why he'd returned to the Yard last year. At what cost and for what reasons. He answered only, "Have you ever had a terrifying nightmare, Elise?"
    "Of course. Everyone has." She was impatient.
    "Think about the worst one you can recall, then try to imagine waking up to find that it was real and would go on for years, not minutes, without respite."
    "That's not possible—" She stopped. "Oh. I see what you mean. Trying to shake off a nightmare is harder than having it." She turned her head, watching the gulls. After a moment she went on. "When I was five, I was frightened by a friend's little dog. I was creeping up on her to surprise her, and the dog heard me first and attacked me. After that, I was always afraid of dogs. Any dog."
    Rutledge nodded. "Are you still afraid of dogs?"
    "Not afraid. Wary, perhaps?"
    "Yes. That's what war does to you. It leaves you wary because you can't erase what you saw or felt or did. It can't be safely tucked away in the attic until you're fifty and decide to bring it out and look it squarely in the face. And Edgar is reminded of his missing leg every time he puts on a shoe or tries to walk across the room or step into a motorcar. It's a fact he can't escape, however hard he tries. And in turn, this is a constant reminder of a day he doesn't want to remember."
    She turned to look at him. "Where are your scars?"
    "They are there. Just a little less visible than missing a leg." He found it hard to keep the irony out of his voice. Thank God no one could see Hamish. Or hear him.