The Gaze of Green Eyes from the Past
James woke before dawn and thought:
“Blimey, havent slept this well in agesand here, in a haystack out in the field, no comforts, no warm blanket. Not that it matters. Summers here, its warm, and the hay smells sweet and cosy.”
He sat up, brushing the hay aside. His mind was clearno lingering sadness over the split with his wife, no regrets. Had he ever truly loved her? The question nagged at him.
“Ten years together, and was it all just pretending? We got on well enough, I suppose, but never had kids of our own. Lucy had a daughter, mindsaid she didnt even know who the father was. Had her for herself, she reckoned.”
James had always sensed something forced in Lucys affection. They rowed often. After every spat, his thoughts would drift back to those greenish eyes and the gentle smile of Nurse Emma, whod leaned over him in the hospital, giving injections and changing drips. That was back when hed been wounded, serving in the Middle East.
Sitting in the hay, James grinned, remembering Emmaher soothing voice, those emerald eyes, her thick chestnut hair. Never seen eyes like hers since. Hed always believed she was the one who got him through the worst of it.
On the day he was discharged, hed picked a bunch of wildflowers and gone looking for her, ready to ask her to come home with him. He knew it wouldnt be simple, but he had to try.
“Emmas not here,” another nurse told him. “Transferred to a field hospital.”
“Where to?”
“No idea. You know how it is out hereno ones saying.”
Devastated, hed still vowed to find her. But how, with only a name and the colour of her eyes to go on? In the end, hed gone home, medically discharged. Nothing had changed therehis dad still drank, his mum still worked and shouted at him.
Then one day, his old mate Dave turned up. Theyd served together, seen it all.
“Alright, Jim?” Dave clapped him on the back. “Sorted yourself out after that injury?”
“Getting there,” James shrugged.
“Come down to our village. This place is dead, no work. Unless theres someone keeping you here?” Dave winked.
“No one. Still cant forget Emma.”
“Bloody hell, mate, she really got under your skin. But dont give upkeep looking.”
So James moved to Daves village. Over time, he fixed up a tiny old cottage and made a life there. Dave, though, fell in love and moved to the nearest town with his wife, Sarah.
“Sorry for dragging you here just to leave,” Dave said.
“Dont fret,” James laughed. “Ive got my own plansproposed to Lucy.”
Now, staring across the fields, James snapped out of the memory, almost hearing Lucys spiteful voice from yesterday:
“Youll never find another like mesomeone whod put up with you this long. I tolerated you; no one else will. All your brooding? No one cares. And anyway, theres a proper bloke who loves me now.”
She called it “brooding” when he lost himself in memories of the past. It wound her upshed poke and prod until it blew into a row. James never understood why it bothered her so much. He never even talked about it.
But yesterday, shed finally admitted what hed long suspected. Hed listened in silence, packed a bag, and walked out as her curses followed him.
“Odd, really,” he mused. “Thought Id rage, shout, blame her. But Im just calm. Almost relieved its over.”
Come morning, hed head to Daves. For now, hed left the village behind as evening fell, veering into a field of fresh haystacks to sleep. Tomorrow, hed catch a bus to town. Dave would have his backalways did.
“Done with pretending,” James thought, almost glad. Hed guessed for months Lucy was seeing that council bloke whod come to oversee the new farms.
For the first time in half a year, he felt light, like a weight had lifted. Burrowing into the hay, he decided:
“Tomorrows tomorrow. Tonight, I rest.”
He used his bag as a pillow but didnt sleep straight off. Stars popped out, and memories flooded backthe war, the hospital, his hand twitching with phantom pain. He pushed them aside.
Then he recalled meeting Lucybright, lively, older by three years. Shed made him believe happiness was possible again. Hed never asked about her past or her daughters father. Hed just tried to love her, sure theyd grow old together.
But hed failed her, somehow. Shed hated his “brooding”those moments alone with his thoughts, reliving the worst days.
The thoughts spun until, finally, he sleptdeep and dreamless, lulled by the hays scent. When he woke, Emmas green eyes were the first thing on his mind.
“Right, time to move,” he told himself, climbing out.
He caught the bus into town, bought a bottle of wine and a box of chocolatesnever spirits with Dave, just a bit of wine. The chocolates were for Sarah.
At their flat, Dave answered in joggers, grinning.
“Jim! Get in here!” He hugged him tight, then peered past him. “You alone?”
Jamess look said enough.
“Right. Kitchens this waybreakfasts on.” Sarah appeared, followed by their seven-year-old, Tommy, who launched himself at James.
“Good to be wanted,” James thought.
At the table, he handed over the wine, a giant chocolate bar for Tommy, and the chocolates for Sarahthen noticed her rounded belly.
“Wait, are you?”
“Guilty,” Sarah laughed.
“Brilliant,” James said, meaning it.
“Didnt expect it,” Dave admitted. “But here we arehaving a girl.”
“Youre not old yet,” James teased.
“Says the one pushing thirty,” Sarah shot back. He just shrugged.
They talked for hours, reliving the good and bad. Sarah kept giving Dave pointed looks until she finally blurted:
“Right, I cant take it. Dave, tell him!”
“Later,” Dave muttered.
“No, now. Jim weve been sitting on this awhile,” Sarah said. “Didnt want to upset you, what with you and Lucy. But we found Emma.”
James went still.
“Shes alive,” Dave cut in. “Living in a village up north. Sarah tracked her downsent letters, made calls. Emma wrote back. Asked about you. Said she never found anyone like you. Shes still waiting.”
By the time James was on the train, his heart had steadied. Fields rushed past the window as he clutched Emmas letter, memorised by now. His Emma. Waiting. Loving him, just as hed never stopped loving her.
He was going to hergoing home.
