Memoirs

Where are you?

I look around me. The room is dimly lit. A shaft of light makes its way through the dust motes from the grimy window.

I’m in a room.

What room?

I’m on a bed. Old, brass. A bedroom.

Who are you?

I look down at my naked body. Long alabaster legs and the dark pubic patch where they meet. My breasts are firm, although my waist has sagged a little, not bad, I note. I know who I am. “Veronique” I say.

And where is the room?

“France.”

Anything else?

“A noise.” It has been there all along, I just hadn’t noticed it.

What noise?

“Thunder.” No, not thunder. It’s too regular, too…. GOD! That was close.

What was?

Gunfire. Artillery. A shell landed close that time. War, I am in a war.

What war?

I look around the room. Aged walls, cracked and worn. Erotic images on the walls, pinned haphazardly. I’m in a maison tolérée. It’s 1916.

You’re a prostitute?

“Yes.” I look down again. A good figure, mostly firm, apart from the waist. Stretch marks. There was a child once.

Was? Once?

She died. I feel a sea of bottomless sadness washing over me – an aching loss that will never be consoled. And it is all going to happen again.

Why?

A man. I look further into the room. He sits there lounging in the armchair. He is smoking a cigarette. I can smell the tang of tobacco. His tunic is undone. There are pips on his epaulettes.

An officer?

Yes.

A client?

Yes. But more. I love him. I feel that I have loved him for a long, long time. He is going back today and I will not see him again. There is a push.

When is this?

Soon. He told me. He shouldn’t have, but they do. They always do. When they lie in my arms, I am a confidant. A soft, warm refuge in the cesspit of conflict. Their mother and their lover. So, they tell me and I remain silent. This July, he will go over the top and not come back to me and I will mourn.

So I look across that dreary room at the man sitting there waiting for the time when he will leave. Fair hair cropped short. Pale blue eyes with a hint of amusement and that smile. That half-smile; lips slightly pursed and the edges of the mouth in rebellion against them. The eyes dancing with suppressed laughter. Yes, that smile. I have seen that smile before.

Where are you?

It’s dark.

Look around, tell me what you see.

A window. Moonlight is casting a beam of light.

Where are you?

In my bedroom.

Alone?

No. My wife, Katherine is beside me. I can hear her breathing. In the pale light, I can see her hair falling about her face.

Who are you?

Robert. My name is Robert Spalding. I am a crofter and she; my eternal love.

Where are you?

I can smell the earthy peat smell of the cottage. The highlands. She sleeps beside me, her slumber the sleep of the innocent. I am leaving in the morning.

Why? Where to?

Glen Coe. I am joining the clans to fight.

Fight?

The English. To restore the Stuart throne. She will smile and wave me off. But I will not return. My destiny awaits me at Culloden. In the weak sunlight of morning she will kiss me for one last time and I will hold her soft body close to mine. And she will smile. That half-smile of hers – even though I could not give her what she always wanted.

What?

Children. She has never said, she never complained, but I knew. I know. And that smile that I always loved, she will share it with me tomorrow on the morn of my departure. A half-smile, her lips slightly pursed, with the edges struggling to break free and her eyes dancing with barely suppressed amusement. I have seen that smile before. I will remember that smile as I draw my last laboured breath in the mists of Culloden.

Where are you?

Normandy. My farm. I have been collecting the morning’s eggs.

Who are you?

Annette.

What do you see?

Sebastian. He is preparing to ride to war. He looks so grand in his dark green tunic, white breeches and polished black boots. His gold helmet catches the light and the crest waves in the gentle breeze. The emperor has returned and the Imperial Guard are riding out to join him for one last battle. I am deeply sad, for I know this is a lost cause. The Emperor was defeated before and will be again – this time, forever. The sun is shining brightly as Sebastian kisses me and smiles. I know that smile. I have seen it before.

I open my eyes and look at you in the dim light of the darkened room.

“Open the curtains.”

I watch as you walk to the window and draw the curtains wide. The light floods, into the room illuminating your face as you turn and smile. Your bright blue eyes are alight with a sense of fun and your lips pursed in a half-smile. I know that smile. I have seen it before. I know who you are.

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