Free Winds of Eden by Catrin Collier

half-brother.
    â€˜An excuse Anglo-Saxons use to safeguard their superiority complex.’
    â€˜Is that a repetition of American philosophy or do you really believe what you just said?’
    â€˜I most definitely believe it,’ Angela insisted.
    â€˜Are you saying that Americans don’t believe they outshine every other nationality?’
    â€˜How can we, when you British constantly remind us that your education, history, and sense of fair play are vastly superior?’
    â€˜Touché.’ He touched his glass to hers. ‘Remind me to continue this discussion when my head isn’t quite so fuzzy from brandy and painkillers.’
    â€˜If you should see Harry’s bearer, will you ask him to call on me at the mission please, Charles?’
    â€˜If you want me to.’
    â€˜Do you think he knows Harry’s dead?’
    â€˜Given how close they were, he either knows or was killed alongside him.’ Needing to change the subject from Harry and John, he asked, ‘Has Maud settled on a name for her baby?’
    â€˜She was undecided when I left this morning.’
    â€˜She’s not going to name him after John?’
    â€˜Not when the whole of Basra knows the baby isn’t John’s child.’
    â€˜Has the father appeared?’
    â€˜Not that I’ve seen.’ Maud had confided to Angela that her baby was the result of rape. Theo confirmed that Maud had reported a rape to an Indian Army doctor, but Angela didn’t feel she should pass on the information, even to Charles. It was Maud’s secret, not hers to tell. ‘Will you dine at the mission tonight? Reverend and Mrs Butler would love to see you.’
    â€˜Thank you for the invitation but I invited Chalmers to dine with me here in return for offering to put me up. And here he is.’
    â€˜Mrs Smythe, Reid. Good evening.’ Richard Chalmers joined them.
    Angela finished her drink. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I must go. Given Mrs Butler’s cook’s temper, I dare not be late for dinner.’
    â€˜I’ll escort you,’ Charles offered.
    â€˜In your wheelchair?’
    â€˜Tough luck, Charles. That prerogative falls to me.’ Richard Chalmers offered Angela his arm.
    â€˜Thank you, Major Chalmers, but my brother said he’d pick me up here at six and it’s five past now. Thank you for the lovely drink, Charles.’ Angela kissed his cheek. ‘Take care and visit us soon. You too, Major Chalmers. The Butlers would love to meet you.’
    â€˜Reid gets a kiss and I don’t,’ Chalmers joked.
    â€˜A small one, all I can spare from Peter’s ration.’ She brushed her lips across Major Chalmers’s cheek and almost ran from the room.
    Her marriage to Peter had been far from idyllic, but close proximity to any man in uniform who exuded authority and the unique British officer’s scent of starch, leather oil, tooth powder, and shaving soap kindled memories, and the realisation just how much she missed Peter’s presence in her life. 

Chapter Six
    Lansing Memorial Mission, Basra, late evening Thursday 30th December 1915
    Angela knocked on the door of Maud’s bedroom, opening it at Maud’s ‘Come’.
    Maud was sitting in a chair, reading. The native nursemaid she’d employed to look after her child was feeding her six-day-old son from a glass baby’s bottle.
    Maud set her book aside. ‘Did you see Charles?’ The last person Maud wanted to hear about was Charles Reid, but as Angela had told her she was meeting him in the Basra Club, she didn’t want to risk exciting Angela’s suspicions that something was amiss between her and John’s childhood friend.
    â€˜Yes.’
    â€˜How is he?’
    â€˜In a wheelchair, but well in himself considering what he’s been through. He asked after you and the baby.’
    â€˜Really?’ Maud was surprised.
    â€˜He asked if you’d named