A Fall from Grace by Maggie Ford (books to read for self improvement TXT) 📕

days in his mother’s loving care and the healing comfort of home he did in fact begin to perk up faster than she’d anticipated, so that by the end of that second week he was virtually back to his old self. If anything, so it seemed to her, far livelier than before he’d been sent away, yet it made her feel that much of it was being put on. How did he really feel inside?

The next few days, with James at his office, she took to visiting on her own, sitting talking to him and his mother for an hour or two before saying goodbye and returning home. She said nothing of it to James and he was too busy to ask how her day had gone, usually going upstairs to do a little more work in his office at home. By the time he joined her for their evening meal it had slipped his mind to ask. If he had, she would probably have told him the truth, recalling the time she’d lied when she’d gone to seek out her father.

Even so, when she and James went on the Sunday, her insides had clenched up the whole afternoon lest Anthony or his mother happened to refer to her solitary visits. But Anthony seemed to have drawn into himself again, his mother more interested in the progress of the war with its ever more heartening news coming daily from the Western Front, increasing hopes of it being over within months. Her worry of course was her Anthony being sent back when he recovered enough.

‘Next time it could be for good,’ she said now, tears beginning to flood her eyes as she looked towards him in her misery. ‘Next time he may never come back to us.’

It lay heavy on all their hearts even though he chided her in that newly acquired light but cynical, mirthless tone of his.

‘For God’s sake, mother! We’ve got Fritz on the run. In a month or two he’ll be sneaking back to the fatherland, tail between his legs. So what’s the point sending me back out there? Or is that what you want so you can tear your clothes in grief and have another bloody good lament?’

For reply, Mabel leapt up and fled the room, wailing that he was being deliberately cruel to her just to make himself feel better.

Madeleine ran after her, found her in the hall, and put her arms about her. ‘He didn’t mean it,’ she soothed, as Mabel sobbed on her shoulder. ‘It isn’t only his leg that was wounded. It’ll probably take a long time for him to forget what he has been through – a long time for many of them I should imagine – if ever. You must forgive him – try not to take to heart the things he says. He doesn’t mean them.’

He must have made quite a few insensitive remarks when they’d not been there and her heart went out more to him than his mother even though she was obliged to stifle the hurt in her breast when he made remarks like that. For in all truth it was the one who found the need to resort to such uncharacteristic remarks who suffered most, deep inside, unable to escape the visions that haunted them.

She said as much as she helped his mother dry her tears and led her gently back into the room – and it seemed to do some good. Even so, she was almost glad to get away, for the first time feeling ill at ease in his company.

‘I think we may be outstaying our welcome,’ James said as they came away. ‘Best to leave him to his mother next weekend, don’t you think, my dear.’

She voiced her agreement but resolved to keep visiting on her own during the week. Anthony seemed a different person when she visited alone, almost like his old cheerful self, at least on the surface. It was Thursday, her third visit this week. Today, ignoring the leaden November skies, she found him even more cheery and talkative than she had dared hope.

‘You know, Maddie, I look forward so much to your visiting,’ he said as his mother left the room to have a word with their cook, his openness taking her by surprise.

‘Without you coming here to see me, I honestly don’t know what I’d do cooped up all day looking out at that bloody miserable November weather and having to listen to Mother constantly lamenting. Promise me, Maddie, you won’t stop coming?’

‘Of course I promise,’ she said with all her heart.

Having him shorten her name sent a thrill surging through her. But it was the slow, quiet, almost deliberate way he had said it that increased the feeling even more though she merely smiled, lightly adding, ‘And I enjoy coming here too. I really do.’

To which he had given a slow smile, one she was at a loss to interpret, leaving her wondering as his mother returned, what else he might have said had they been left alone for any further length of time.

The following afternoon, she wasn’t sure why, but after giving Mabel the usual peck on the cheek as she made to leave, she went over to him still seated in the armchair and, bending, planted a swift kiss on his cheek as well.

He looked up at her, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, something she hadn’t seen since his homecoming. ‘Now then,’ he quipped lightly, ‘what’s all this sudden flirting?’

But his hand had caught her arm and just for a moment the grip tightened, delaying her from drawing back.

She gave a stupid giggle, instantly annoyed at hearing herself, and pulling her arm away, quickly moved back. But even as she did she saw what seemed to her like a message in his gaze that to her mind betrayed much more than mere banter. Confused she drew away.

‘I’d best be off,’ she said unnecessarily, gathering up her gloves and following Mabel out of the