Letters Across the Sea by Genevieve Graham (spicy books to read .txt) 📕

last stand, fighting at Stanley Village, there was an attack on the St. Stephen’s College hospital, at the south end of the island.”

I nodded. That much I knew.

Ian reached into his shirt pocket and took out his cigarettes. He offered one to me even though he knew I never accepted, then he lit his, blowing a stream of smoke away from me.

“There were about a hundred Canadians and Brits at the hospital, including doctors and nurses. Other than the medical people, the rest were wounded men.”

So Richie had been one of the wounded, I realized. When had he been hurt? Where? Would I ever know?

Ian squinted, drawing on his cigarette again. “About two hundred Japanese attacked the hospital Christmas Day, claiming they thought it was a fort, despite the hospital flag flying outside.”

“The patients were unguarded?”

“They were in a hospital. No one’s supposed to attack a hospital. And all our fighting men were busy elsewhere.”

“Go on,” I said after a moment.

He regarded me carefully then set both his feet flat on the ground, as if he was bracing himself. “The two doctors in charge of the hospital barred the entrance, but the Japanese killed them both.”

My mouth went dry. I swallowed, reminded myself that this was war. Hadn’t Dad described something similar?

“It only gets worse from there, Molly. It was a massacre.”

I took a breath then nodded, steeling myself. I had to know. I couldn’t ignore the facts. My brother deserved that.

“The Japs stormed into the hospital and bayoneted about sixty of the ninety-three wounded men to death.” Ash dropped from Ian’s forgotten cigarette. “They— They cut them to pieces as they lay in their beds. They showed no mercy.”

“Oh, God. Richie,” I gasped.

He’d probably felt safe there, under the care of the doctors. People were supposed to feel safe in hospitals, weren’t they? I clenched my hands together, squeezing until my nails cut into my palms, imagining the panic he must have felt, the screams that had cut through the day and night.

Ian handed me a handkerchief, and I wiped at my eyes.

“There were also seven Allied nurses and a bunch of Chinese nurses, no one seems to know how many. The Chinese nurses were taken away and never seen again. The Canadian and British nurses were attacked and…” Ian turned his face away. “They were raped all night. Five of them survived.”

Bile seared my throat, and I covered my mouth with a trembling hand. When at last I found my voice, it was barely a whisper. “How could they do that?”

“You know how,” he reminded me gently. “You’ve been studying their POW camps. These guys don’t follow any rules. They believe if a man surrenders, they have forfeited their soul, and they’re less than human. That they actually deserve to be treated that way. But here’s the kicker: the Canadians never surrendered. The Brits did, hours before that attack. But the men of C Force never did.” He stubbed out his cigarette in the grass, grinding it in with his shoe. “In the morning, they made the survivors carry all the bodies, mattresses, and whatever else they could find, then burn them all. Once that was done, they started marching them to North Point Camp.”

“The POW camp.”

“And nobody knows much more than that.”

I sighed. “Because the Japanese won’t allow the Red Cross in.” I stared at Ian’s handkerchief, crushed in my hands. “But by that point, Richie was already…”

Ian lifted my chin with one finger, and I saw the sympathy in his shining blue eyes. Then I saw the love behind it, and I let myself go. I reached for him, and he wrapped his arms around me, holding me tight while I wept into his warm, welcoming chest.

When my sobs slowed, we drew apart, and I caught the pleasant tang of his aftershave as his cheek brushed against mine. I looked into his eyes, feeling truly comforted for the first time in so long, then I tilted my face toward his, finally ready for more.

He paused, inches away. “Are you sure this is what you want, Molly?”

“I am,” I said. “I just needed time. There was so much going on, with the war, my brothers, and everything else. I needed to sort through everything.”

“But even before then,” he said, searching my face. “I don’t know. We were having fun, but you never seemed to want anything more than friendship. I knew you wanted to focus on your career, but I thought it was more than that. And I would never push you if you didn’t want to go there.”

“Establishing my career was part of it.” I paused, leaving words unsaid. “My life has changed, Ian, and I’m moving on. I’m ready to walk down that path with you.”

The corners of his lips curled in a sweet smile. “I’ve been hoping that someday I might hear those words.” It surprised me to see just how vulnerable he was, and I was ashamed that I’d taken him for granted. “I’ve been crazy about you since the moment you first walked into that newsroom.”

I felt his breath on my face, then his lips on mine, his kiss warm and gentle.

“I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he said.

My hands went to the lapels of his tan-coloured coat, and I drew him back toward me. “Then do it again, please.”

eighteen MOLLY

It was impossible not to smile at Ian, bouncing in time to “A String of Pearls” while his fingers tapped the steering wheel. Outside the car window, the golden leaves of October and the dry, harvested fields flew by, warming themselves under a cloudless sky. It was a beautiful day for a two-hour drive, and for a little while, the war and all my troubles seemed very far away.

“Ever been to Bowmanville?” he asked, sticking a cigarette in the corner of his mouth and working his lighter with his thumb.

“I haven’t. I’ve actually never been outside the city at all.”

“Really?”