Angels in the Gloom Read Online Free

intimately. “He’s too young,” he said aloud, knowing as he did so that there were boys, even on the front lines, who were not much older. He had seen the bodies of one or two. But there was no need for Hannah to know that.
    “Do you think it will be over by next year?” she asked.
    “Or the one after,” he answered, with no idea if that were true.
    She relaxed. “Yes, of course. I’m sorry. Is there anything I can bring you? Are they feeding you properly? It’s still quite easy to get most things, although that might change if the U-boats get any worse. There’s nothing much in the garden yet, it’s too early. And of course Albert’s not with us anymore, so it’s gone a bit wild.”
    He heard a wealth of loss in her voice. At the front they tended to think everything at home was caught in a motionless amber just as they remembered it. Sometimes it was only the thread of memory linking that order of life to the madness of war that gave the fighting any purpose. Perhaps on the front they were as blind to life at home as the people at home were to the reality in the trenches? He had not really thought of that before.
    He looked at his sisters anxious face. “The food’s not bad at all,” he said at last. “Maybe they’re giving us the best. But when I heal a bit more, I’ll be home anyway.”
    She smiled suddenly, alight with pleasure. “That’ll be wonderful. It’ll be quite a while before you can go back, I should think.” She was sorry for his wounds, but they kept him in England, safe and alive. She did not know where Archie was, nor Judith. No matter how busy she was during the day, there was still too much time alone when fear crowded in, and helplessness. She could only imagine, and wait.
    Seeing her loneliness far more than she realized, he felt an intense tenderness for her. “Thank you,” he said with a depth that surprised him.
    It happened sooner than he expected. More wounded arrived. His bed was needed and he was past immediate danger. Gwen Neave helped him to dress in trousers, with a shirt and jacket over one shoulder and around his bandaged arm. He was taken to the door in a wheelchair and, feeling unsteady, helped into the ambulance to be driven home to Selborne St. Giles. He was startled to find that he was exhausted by the time the doors were opened again. He was assisted out onto the gravel driveway where Hannah was waiting for him.
    She held his arm as he negotiated the steps, leaning heavily on his crutch, the ambulance driver on his other side. He hardly had time to notice that the front garden was overgrown. The daffodils were bright; leaves were bursting open everywhere; the yellow forsythia was in bloom, uncut since last year; and there were clumps of primroses that should have been divided and spread.
    The door opened and he saw Tom was kneeling on the floor in the hall, holding the dog by his collar as he wriggled and barked with excitement. Henry was a golden retriever, eternally enthusiastic, and his exuberance would have knocked Joseph off his feet.
    Tom grinned a little uncertainly. “Hello, Uncle Joseph. I daren’t let him go, but he’s pleased to see you. How are you?”
    “Getting better very quickly, thank you,” Joseph replied. He did not feel that was true, but he wanted it to be. He was light-headed and so weak it frightened him. It was an effort to stand, even with help.
    Tom looked relieved, but he still hung on to Henry, who was lunging forward in eagerness to welcome Joseph.
    The two younger children were at the top of the stairs, standing close together. Jenny was ten, fair, with brown eyes like her mother. Luke, seven, was as dark as Archie. They stared at Joseph almost without blinking. He wasn’t really Uncle Joseph anymore; he was a soldier, a real one. More than that, he was a hero. Both their mother and Mrs. Appleton had said so.
    Joseph climbed the stairs, hesitating on every step, assisted by the driver. He spoke to Luke and Jenny as he