Angels in the Gloom_ A Novel - Anne Perry [109]
“Yes, I do need it,” she argued. “Either I belong to you, or I don’t. If you shut me out, even if you’re right and I don’t have the strength or the courage to bear it, then . . .”
“I didn’t say that!” he protested, turning to look at her angrily.
She ignored him. “You meant it. And when Tom’s confused and hurt, when you’re not here, I have to try and explain to him why you won’t trust any of us.”
“It’s not trust!” He was frustrated by her refusal to understand. “It’s to protect you from the nightmares I have! Can’t you see that? What’s the matter with you, Hannah?”
“Do you think Judith needs protecting?” she asked, controlling her feelings with an effort. This was the time when she must be strong. She had asked for the truth; there was no place for emotional manipulation.
Archie was startled. “Judith? That’s different. She’s . . .” He stopped.
“What?” she demanded, keeping her voice level with intense difficulty. “What is she that you think I’m not? Tell me!”
Archie stared at her. His eyes were so tired they were red-rimmed. She knew he was sleeping little.
“What is it?” she insisted. “You’re not protecting me. You’re shutting me out. I need to know you! Don’t you trust me to love you, even if you’re afraid sometimes?” The words were irretrievable. Her stomach churned with fear.
He looked startled. “No, of course not!” He stopped. “Is that what you think?”
“I don’t know what to think,” she answered. “Do you imagine I expect you to be perfect? I don’t. I never did. That isn’t love; it’s vanity! And lack of faith in us! You really believe I’m not strong enough to hear about what you have to live through?”
He leaned forward, intensely earnest. “I don’t want you to have to think about it, Hannah. Did you tell me how it felt to give birth? I heard you screaming, but I couldn’t share it.”
She took a deep breath. “Then let me hear you scream sometimes,” she begged. “Or at least know what it’s for. I know you might get killed. I do know that! Then I’ll lose you, and for the children’s sake, I’ll have to go on by myself. And they’ll have to go on, too. But I want to have the real you now! I want to know what I will have lost.”
He turned away from her. “You don’t understand what you’re asking. Joseph doesn’t tell you what it’s like in Flanders.”
“I’m not married to Joseph.” That answer was simple, and it made all the difference in the world. “But I would listen if he did, if it helped him.”
“And if he didn’t want to tell you?” he asked, still not looking at her. “What if I would rather have you just as you are, not knowing, not changed by it, not part of that life?”
That hurt. Joseph had refused to tell her. She felt the sting of it like a hand slap. She had difficulty controlling the tears coming to her eyes. “I’m shut out, as I am from you, and I will have to live with it,” she said quietly. “I will be alone. Perhaps you have other people you want to share yourself with.”
“Hannah! That’s not . . .” He sat down slowly on the bedroom chair, lowering his head so she could not see his face. “If you had any idea what it’s like, you wouldn’t say that.”
“I don’t have any idea because you don’t tell me!” she retorted. She couldn’t and wouldn’t go back now. “I only have my imagination and my own nightmares. Is it any worse than reality?”
He was speaking quietly now, almost as if in a way she had beaten him. “Yes, it is! You’ve never been as cold in your life as it is at sea. Your eyelashes freeze, the tears on your face are ice. It hurts to breathe. Your bones hurt with it. Land could be only a hundred miles away, but it might as well be beyond existence.”
He lifted his head to look at her. “There’s nothing but you and the ocean, and the enemy. He might come over the horizon, a black silhouette against the sky, or he might heave up out of the water right in front of you. More likely you won’t know anything at all until the torpedo hits, and the deck under your feet erupts in fire and twisted metal and blood.”
It was not the words—she had heard them before. It was the horror in his face, because