Free The Heart's War by Lucy Lambert Page A

morning sun came in through the gap in the thick, black drapes. Marie busied herself downstairs, and I could smell fresh oatmeal on the stove. And coffee. Mother had never really let me have coffee, especially since the rationing started.
    I thought to myself about how fortunate Jeff was to have a mother like Marie, and that anger I'd felt against him heated in my chest again. How could he leave her, and a home like this one?
    After a moment's indecision, I pulled on a plain white skirt that ended just a little too high over my ankles, and a light blue blouse the color of a morning sky that was just a little too loose in the chest and shoulders.
    The traffic on Victoria Street hadn't picked up much with the bustle of daily activities, and I paused for a moment as flock of ducks laughed somewhere in the distance.
    Against the inside wall was a dressing table with an old, warped mirror. A brush I'd borrowed from Marie sat on the chipped finish of the surface.
    The knots were stubborn that morning, and I found myself hissing and gritting my teeth as I worked them all loose. The sweet smell of the oatmeal grew stronger, the aroma of the coffee richer. I could barely take the time to splash my face with some water in the bathroom before rushing downstairs.
    "Hello, Eleanor. I hope you slept well? That old mattress..." Marie said, looking back at me over her shoulder from the stove.
    "Quite well," I lied, the saliva squirting into my mouth the whole while.
    "Sit, then. Have some oatmeal. Would you like some coffee?"
    I accepted both as graciously as I could, my stomach growling its insistence the whole while. She sat and ate with me. We were both quiet, the only noises the steady increase of traffic outside and the light tink of metal spoon against glass bowl.
    There was no cream for the coffee, and only a pinch of sugar each. But each sip invigorated my senses, and the bitterness and heat of it made me drink it slowly. I was only about half finished my cup when Marie excused herself.
    "I have a few errands to run down in Waterloo," she said.
    "May I come? I could help you..." I began, but she waved me to silence.
    "Sorry, Eleanor, but I'll have to attend to these by myself. Thank you, though, dear. I'm sure the paper will be delivered soon. I should be back before lunch, but if you get hungry then please eat!"
    I wanted to ask if she intended on going to the telegram office. Maybe Jeff had sent a message? Or, I thought, maybe I could ask her to send him one? I thought that he'd probably be in Halifax by now. How long would it take for the ship to leave? And which ship would he board? I again found myself hoping that he'd get on the somewhat slower Olympic.
    Though, now that I thought of it, the speed of the Mauretania might keep him safe from those U-boats. Especially with them so close to Canada. How could they have gotten as close as St. John's?
    "Don't worry," Marie said, putting her hands on the shoulders and looking down on me with a motherly smile, "If there is any word from Jeffrey, I will share it with you as soon as I come home!"
    Then she kissed me on the forehead and left. That smile never left her lips. I wondered at why she seemed so happy.
    ***
    True to her word, Marie returned just before noon struck. I'd spent the morning avoiding the paper. It just talked more about conscription, the evils of the Germans, and how many of our boys and men we'd already lost.
    The front door opened and I stood from where I'd been sitting on the couch. I rounded the corner of the doorway to look for Maria in the entry hall. She hung her hat on the coat rack and slipped her feet from the pair of plain black flats she'd worn out.
    She had a brown paper bag cradled in one arm, and several white and manila envelopes clutched in her hand.
    "Here, let me take that for you," I said, holding out my hands for the bag.
    Marie smiled and handed it to me. It contained a small loaf of fresh bread, some eggs, and a bottle of milk. These I put in