Page 37 of The Girls of Pearl Harbor
It was Teddy reaching for her hand this time. ‘Me too.’
‘I keep wondering if I’d just gone out earlier, if I’d shouted sooner, if ...’
‘If I’d come around earlier and stopped her from walking out there in the first place,’ Teddy finished for her. ‘I’m having the same thoughts, Grace; honestly I am. I keep replaying that morning over and over, wishing I could have done something different, wishing I could have saved her.’
‘But you couldn’t,’ Grace said, squeezing his hand.
‘There was nothing either of us could have done,’ he said. ‘But we can make them pay.’
A shiver ran through Grace as she watched Teddy’s face change, his eyes hard, his jaw clenched as he let go of her and stood, clearing his throat and squaring his shoulders.
‘Stay safe, Teddy,’ she said, not trusting her own legs to hold her. She held her breath as he leaned in and brushed a kiss to her cheek.
‘Thanks for looking after me today,’ he said, voice barely louder than a whisper as he stepped back.
Grace wrapped her arms tight around herself as she watched Teddy go. She had no idea if she’d ever see him again, if he was walking to his death or not. But there was nothing she could do about it. The only thing she knew was that nothing could ever bring Poppy back; no amount of fighting was going to change what had happened that day.
‘Teddy,’ she called out. ‘If you do go, if I don’t get to see you again, will you write to me?’
His eyes filled with tears as he smiled back at her. ‘I will.’
‘Nurse, is there any more food for us tonight?’ a patient asked as Teddy disappeared.
She took a moment to breathe, to steady herself, before finally finding her feet.
‘Let me take a look,’ she called back, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other.
The only thing she could control right now was how well she cared for these men, and she was going to make sure they were the best-looked-after soldiers in Hawaii.
Poppy was gone. Teddy would be leaving soon. Eva might be dead for all they knew. And April would work until she collapsed.
She’d never felt so alone in all her life.
CHAPTER NINE
EVA
Eva stepped off the small vessel, wobbling as she tried to put one foot in front of the other. It felt like her balance was gone, her entire body quivering as she breathed in the familiar humid air and braced herself for what she was about to see.
The last three days, she’d seen more blood than she’d ever in her life expected to see. More missing limbs than she’d ever thought possible, more broken sailors, more men crying for all they’d lost; they had been the worst days of her life. She took in a big gulp of air. But even after all that, she had a nagging feeling that today was going to be the worst of them all.
She looked around, knowing the other women and men with her were talking, but unable to hear. She didn’t want to hear anything; she just wanted to find Charlie, to see him with her own eyes, to hold his hands and hear him whisper to her that everything was going to be all right.
Eva kept walking, used to finding her way to his barracks, but nothing looked the same now. The smoke that she’d seen from the sea had disappeared, no longer smoldering and burning, but the island was decimated. Trees were fallen, their shallow roots sticking up like spooky Halloween creatures; buildings were blackened and broken; and the once-pristine grass that stretched beyond the beach was littered with debris. It was as if a giant had stomped through, breaking and crushing everything in its way, although this was no fairy-tale giant responsible for the carnage.
‘We’re at war now,’ she whispered to herself as she walked, trying to keep her eyes averted, not ready to see the devastation yet. She’d been through enough, and simply forcing herself to walk as anxiety gripped her was already too much.
After what felt like an eternity, and sticky from the humidity already, she found herself at what was left of Hickam Field. She’d been told the base had been obliterated, and it wasn’t an exaggeration. The planes were all in pieces, where before they’d been so immaculately lined up, and the barracks looked as though no one could have survived the hit.
‘Ma’am, your name?’
Eva looked up and into the eyes of a soldier, a clipboard in hand as he stared at her.
‘Ah, ah ...’ She stumbled over her words. ‘Eva. Eva Branson. I’m the fiancée of Charles Alexander.’
He frowned and looked at the list in his hand. ‘And you’re wanting to find out his whereabouts? I don’t have his name on the list.’
Eva gasped. ‘The list?’ she asked. ‘Is that the list of the men who’ve ...’ She couldn’t even bring herself to finish her question.Who’ve died.That’s what she’d wanted to ask. If he wasn’t on the list, did that mean hehadsurvived?
