Fallen Skies. Philippa Gregory

that. It is to do with the war. It is because you and the nice girls packed me and every one of those p … p … poor devils into a place that none of you could ever imagine. You sent me like a child to p … p … play on a tram track. You, and all the nice girls, sent me with a handful of white feathers and then posted me a parcel of c … c … cake and a pair of mittens. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive you! Any of you! Not just you, but all the p … p … pretty harpies. You and all the nice girls marching under b … banners and singing p … patriotic songs. All of you women who b … believe in war, and send others to do the fighting.’

      Muriel was trembling, her face was pale. ‘I knew you felt like this, Stephen.’ Her hand was at her throat, gripping her pearls. ‘I knew you were angry with me and your father for making you go. But don’t punish me by marrying an unsuitable girl. If you marry a girl who is no good, a girl from the stage, then you’ll have misery ahead of you. The war’s over and thank God you came through safely. I want you to have a good life now, Stephen, not some dreadful struggle with a bad wife.’

      Stephen turned on her a face with so ghastly a gleam that Muriel recoiled, fell back until she was against the heavily polished sideboard. The rattle of expensive china stopped her.

      ‘I came through safely, did I?’ Stephen repeated. His smile was like the wide grin of a naked skull. ‘Safely, is it, Mother! Safely with the dreams I have, and the sudden panics. A chauffeur who can’t speak and a life that is unbearable to me? Filled with hatred for the old m … men. F … filled with hatred for the young women. Hating the men who survived like me, wondering who they b … betrayed, where they skulked to miss the killing shells. Hating the ones who d … d … died because they are the saints and now I will always live in their shadow. And this is safety?’

      Muriel gave a little cry and put her hand up to her mouth to stifle the sound.

      ‘I tell you Lily is my saviour! She is free of the smell of it, free of the sound of it, free of the knowledge of it. How it happened I don’t know but it hasn’t touched her or spoiled her or corrupted her. When she’s beside me I feel clean again. I can’t tell you how or why. But if I don’t marry her and have her for ever, for ever, Mother, then I will go m … m … m …’ He snatched a deep breath to say the word. ‘Mad.’

      There was a short terrible silence.

      Stephen went on very quietly. ‘I know it. I know it. I feel half mad already at times. I dream – I dream – but you don’t want to know my dreams.

      ‘You kept your distance from the reality and you don’t want to know the taste of it as it comes back to me. I wake vomiting sometimes, Mother. I dream of something I found in my mess tin. We were shelled while eating dinner, and a new officer, a young lad, was sitting beside me one moment, and the next, he was gone … but in my mess tin, and on my spoon halfway to my mouth, and on my face, on my lips so that I tasted it, was his blood and his bits of flesh, against my lips, in my mouth …’ Stephen gagged on his words and turned away. Muriel held on to the sideboard with both hands. Her knees were trembling, she would have fallen if she had let go. Stephen pulled out a chair from the table and flung himself down with his head in his hands, breathing deeply until the sweat on his neck cooled and his stomach stopped churning.

      ‘I b … beg your pardon, Mother,’ he said with careful politeness. ‘I c … c … can’t think what I was saying. I have had too little sleep over the past few days. Please forgive me.’

      Muriel rubbed her slack mouth. ‘My dear,’ she started. ‘I knew you felt …’

      ‘You really must excuse me,’ Stephen said icily. ‘I don’t know what I was thinking of, dragging all that old weary stuff up. I p … p … p … prefer not to talk of it.’

      Muriel stared at him hopelessly as he got to his feet and turned a cold shut face towards her. ‘But I hope you will be glad for me,’ he insisted tonelessly. ‘I hope you will be happy for me, Mother, and that you will learn to love Lily in time.’

      Muriel looked up at him imploringly. ‘Of course,’ she said quietly. ‘If that is what you truly wish.’

      ‘I’ll go to her now,’ Stephen said. ‘She’s had the devil of a day. She should go to bed, I think. Did you have the blue room made ready for her?’