In Another Time by Caroline Leech

Author:Caroline Leech
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperTeen
Published: 2018-08-28T07:00:00+00:00

Fifteen

It was almost dark by the time Maisie returned to camp. She stumbled as she went in through the door because she was trying to wipe the burn-bank mud off her boots as she walked. Dot and Nancy were sitting side by side on Dot’s bed, a magazine spread across their laps.

“Maisie! You’re back,” said Dot, and even in its blandness, the statement seemed to carry some strange significance.

“I went out for a walk,” Maisie said defensively, “to stretch my legs a bit.”

“Oh, right,” said Dot, and her glance strayed to Maisie’s bed.

Nancy seemed to be staring at Maisie’s bed too, which was strange. And when Maisie turned to see what they were looking at, it was as if all the other women in the room suddenly looked away to their books, magazines, and playing cards as if Maisie had caught them staring.

Maisie walked across to her bed, still puzzling, and then stopped short. On her pillow sat an envelope with her name written in ink on the front. She knew the writing. It was the same scattered scrawl she’d seen in a black leather notebook.

John had written her a letter.

Maisie lifted the envelope from the pillow and found that it was simply a piece of paper, folded and tucked into itself to offer some privacy.

“Oh yes,” said Dot, clearly trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably, as she rose to join Maisie. “John was here earlier and left that for you.”

“John Lindsay?”

“Yes. John Lindsay. Is there any other John than your John?”

“He’s not my John, and keep your voice down.”

Dot shrugged, again, a little too casually. “Either way, he waited awhile for you, but then he said they had to go.”

“They?”

“Elliott was here too.”

“And how long since they left?”

“Maybe half an hour?”

John had been here, and Maisie had missed him. Maybe if she’d walked home quicker, if she hadn’t stopped on the bridge, they’d have bumped into each other and she’d have had the chance to return his book in person and tell him how much she wanted them to . . .

But wait, what if John had come to end things with her? She turned the note over in her hand. Was this an explanation or an apology? Or a good-bye? As Maisie put her fingernail under the fold of the paper, she realized that Dot was still watching her.

But what did that matter? Dot was her friend, and she’d tell her all that had happened soon enough. Or perhaps not everything. She’d meant to tell Dot that they’d arrived, but John’s leg was a secret that Maisie knew was not hers to tell.

Maisie pulled at the edge of the paper and opened it up.

The note was only one line long, aside from the signature.

Perhaps page 35 might help to explain.

Yours,

John

Maisie read it again. And again. He hadn’t explained or apologized, but he hadn’t ended things either. In fact, he hadn’t said anything at all. And page thirty-five of what? But that was a stupid question when she could feel the weight of In Flanders Fields in her pocket.

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