A Love Story

         It was early evening in late August. The air was still warm and inviting and the gardens around the lavish English country home were decorated with blooming flowers in dazzling colors. The weeping willow guarded the path that wove through the gardens, captured the last dying rays of the sun in its many leaves and branches. Despite the political unrest that characterized Europe in 1939, the atmosphere around this home was festive.

         Alexandra Murphy was just about to get dressed for the upcoming ball when she heard a knock at her door. Before she could even say come in, Mrs. Murphy bustled into Alexandra’s bedroom with an air of importance. She was carefully cradling a small box to her ample bosom. Alexandra’s eyes widened with recognition as her mother lovingly placed it on her lap.

         “Oh mother, you shouldn’t have!” She exclaimed as she viewed the precious contents of the box.

         “Every debutante should come out in her finest dress and jewels. Your grandmother, may her soul rest in peace, gave these to me on my special day and now it's my turn to give them to you.” Mrs. Murphy’s voice then faltered and she paused to pull out a scented lace handkerchief to stem the sudden flood of tears.

         Alexandra paid her sentimental mother no mind and instead focused her attention on the diamonds and sapphires that sparkled in the lamplight from their velvet lined lair. As she held them in her hands, she felt a sudden thrill and grinned with childish glee. Yes, Alexandra thought, tonight is the night John will tell me he can’t live without me and wants me to be his wife. She envisioned his handsome green eyes, friendly smile and strong arms that quickly swept her off her feet. She looked around her bedroom with its girlish decor and felt impatient. She was tired of being told about patience and all the other stuffy virtues. The thought of waiting for everything’s proper time was as unbearable as the tranquil aura that surrounded the dull country house. She missed the action of fast paced London. Alexandra had always dreamed of exciting people and places, of love and happily-ever-after. As she gazed at the necklace and earrings set in her hands she imagined they winked back at her as if they held the secret of what was yet to come.

         Alexandra then glanced up at her mother who continued to sob uncontrollably, her plump shoulders shaking with the force of her tears. Alexandra sighed with annoyance; her mother had been crying all day in between scolding the maids, harassing the cook, and driving the entire household mad with her many opinions on what she considered “perfect.” Alexandra wound her slender arms around her grieving mother and said, “Mother, this is a happy occasion. So why do you cry?”

         Mrs. Murphy smiled sadly at her only child and said “You are no longer a little girl. The world is changing all around us and I cannot shield you from it forever.”

         Alexandra laughed. Her mother worried about the strangest things, she thought. Seeing her mother’s look of disapproval, Alexandra quickly asked her mother in her politest voice if she could help her finish preparing for the ball. Less than two minutes later she regretted her impulsive gesture. Mrs. Murphy seemed to have forgotten that her daughter had been dressing herself for the past decade and a half as she intrusively poked and prodded, yanked and tied. The final straw for Alexandra was when Mrs. Murphy decided on a stunning upswept hairdo that required a great deal of vigorous pulling, twisting and pinning. Caught up in her own enthusiasm, she did not heed her daughter’s protests and muffled yelps of pain or notice, for that matter, the quantity of shining brown hair that was being yanked loose by her ruthless comb. It was when she stopped to admire her handiwork that she saw the expression on Alexandra’s face.

         “Child, why are you grimacing like that? You’ll get wrinkles before you’re well into your twenties and start aging. Smile now, we’re celebrating, remember?” With that, she hummed a little ditty and continued spearing her daughter's scalp with dagger like hair pins.

         “My hair.” Alexandra tentatively reached up to check if her mother left her any covering her head.

         Mrs. Murphy slapped the hand away and said sharply, “Don’t touch it! You must keep it tidy for tonight. God knows I tried as best I could with what I had.”

         “It hurts. My hair hurts.”

         “Beauty is pain.” She said as she cheerfully pinched color into Alexandra’s cheeks. She continued to primp until Alexandra’s attire met her stringent standards for a proper debutante.

         Later that evening, Alexandra quietly slipped away from her party for a breath of fresh air. She was disappointed in the evening so far. Instead of witty young men fawning at her feet she was greeted by gawky tongue-tied youths with two left feet when they danced. Many of the other girls gave her envious looks and made catty remarks. When they greeted her they were nice as can be; they simpered and giggled, gushing on and on over how lovely everything was and whatnot. Then when their mothers moved out of earshot began the comments spoken just loud enough for her to hear. The glorious slippers that matched her dress exactly were restrictive and hurt her feet- beauty is pain, Alexandra thought miserably. To top off the evening, John had not shown up at all.

         Alexandra paused at a bench to take off the tight slippers and the delicate silk stockings. She sighed in relief and continued through the dark garden, enjoying the fresh breeze. She closed her eyes and wished that John was there with her. As if he materialized from her thoughts, John appeared next to her.

         “Miss me?” He said teasingly.

         Alexandra nearly leapt out of her skin and she gasped in fear. She was not expecting to see him, the party was almost over. Color rose into her cheeks as she gave him an angry glare. How could he arrive so late after she reminded him for weeks! Bristling with indignation, she asked what took him so long.

         “Well, I had to stop and get these for you.” From behind his back, he produced a bouquet of flowers that he had brought for such a mood.

         Alexandra, however, was not letting him off the hook that easily. “Really, where were you?”

         After a hesitant pause John said “I have enlisted into the RAF.”

         “The Royal Air Force? Why John, why?” Alexandra asked heatedly “Have you forgotten so soon what the Prime Minister said? We have peace for our time, John, peace.” Her innocent eyes reflected her hope in a peaceful resolution.

         “I am not as naive as that appeasing Chamberlain. You give ‘em an inch they take a mile. After the Sudetenland, Hitler will want all of Europe!” He paused for emphasis. “And I’ll be there to help stop him.”

         “Oh no you won’t.” Alexandra said stubbornly with more conviction than she felt. He really believes there will be war, she thought. Alexandra shivered at the thought because war is truly unbearable. In her mind's eye she pictured the grim battlefield of struggles not long past and innocently wondered why anyone would willingly go and enlist. What could you gain from such an experience? Where was the honor in so much destruction? More questions without clear cut answers swarmed through Alexandra's mind until she felt that she would surely faint. Deep in her heart of hearts, however, she knew there was no other way- Britain must fight.

         John saw the flicker of fear in her wide dark eyes. He took her hand to comfort her and then led her through the flower bordered path towards the willow tree. He had expected his fancy for her to fade as it has with other pretty girls but surprisingly he only liked her more every time he was with her. He looked into her radiant face and knew he loved her. And as uncertain as the future might be, with her it was not as terrifying as it was when he enlisted. With a heart full of love, John lowered his head and kissed her.

         When Alexandra finally walked back to the house her mother was there waiting. Mrs. Murphy angrily demanded to know where she had been. Not waiting for a reply, Mrs. Murphy continued to scold. “It’s bad enough you disappeared and did not say good bye to your guests who have come all this way, some from London even, but did you have to soil your dress? Look at it! It’s wrinkled, torn and covered in dirt, what did you do, roll about in the garden for the past hour AND A HALF? And look at this! Could you be any more careless! There is a smear of icing down the front and in your hair! You hair...” A faint sense of unease came over Mrs. Murphy as she wondered what color icing was on the cake but the thought passed as she saw that Alexandra was barefoot as well. Before she could open her mouth to comment on her lack of footwear, Alexandra feigned a terrible headache. So Mrs. Murphy, still grumbling under her breath, let her daughter to go up to her room.

         As Alexandra slowly walked up the stairs, she could hear her mother delivering an angry monologue about etiquette and unpardonable rudeness to the furniture. When she reached her bedroom, she firmly closed the door behind her, locking out her mother’s far reaching voice. She turned on the bedside lamp and thought of the eventful stroll through the garden with John. She looked around her bedroom with different eyes. With a sigh she got ready for bed and curled up beneath the covers, for the night was cool. She was asleep within minutes after closing her eyes. She did not dream of the happy things she had always dreamt of before. Instead she dreamed of a dreadful future that lay in store for them all. Terrible images danced through her mind and she slept fitfully through the rest of the night.

         The next morning when she opened her eyes she was relieved that it was day and the nightmare was over, but her relief was short lived. When Alexandra saw the morning paper she realized the nightmare was just beginning and there was no waking from it. Britain was going to war which meant John will be on active duty. But to her complete surprise it was more bearable than she thought.

         September came and went in a dizzy blur for the Murphy's, bringing a steady stream of bad news. Alexandra who never bothered with current events found herself reading the paper and listening to the BBC on the radio everyday. She was so preoccupied with the invasion of Poland, the inevitable declaration of war and the German blitzkrieg that she neglected to notice the changes in herself. It was almost November, when the despair of not having John around to comfort her was almost unbearable, that she discovered the piece of her lover that she carried with her. When Mrs. Murphy found out, she set about the house shouting and sobbing that the social disgrace would destroy her. Only after several hours of said hysterics, she managed to pull herself together to formulate a plan of action.

         John was soon notified and given special leave, due to the circumstances. A swift private wedding was arranged. However, he was gone as quickly as he came: their honeymoon was a only a night long. It happened all so rapidly that if it were not for the ring her finger, Alexandra would have doubted he was ever really there.

         Little Johnny was born the spring before the Battle of Britain. Sacrifices had to be made for the little bundle of joy and things that Alexandra could just not live without a few months before, were pushed aside with some regret. Even the beautiful jewels that Alexandra wore on her special night as a debutante had to be sold among other things to make ends meet in the wartime economy. The flat in London was also abandoned for the duration.

         Although the right thing had been done, the suddenness of the wedding and Alexandra's undeniable paunch were noted by the inquisitive townsfolk. And no matter what the locals said in whispered conferences at church socials and war fund raisers, Alexandra had to go on with her head held high. The time when she would have been distraught over the slightest breath scandal was past, and things had to be put in perspective; there was a war and she was a mother. So despite the up and downs, the losses and triumphs of Britain and her everyday struggles, time which waits for no one, moved on.

         Six years after the fateful ball that marked the end of her childhood, Alexandra strolled early that morning through the gardens of her home. It is 1945 and Germany had been defeated earlier that year. It was the long awaited victory that all of Britain had been waiting for, yet she felt no relief. The boys that had gone off to fight with such alacrity were just beginning to return, many battered and broken from the long ordeal and some not returning at all. Alexandra had not heard from John for more than a year. He was shot down in enemy territory and only the plane was recovered. The pain of not knowing was terrible but somehow she dealt with it as she had dealt with the many other strains of the past six years. Besides, she still had her little Johnny who with his uncanny resemblance to his father was a great comfort and an overwhelming responsibility.

         Though the war was over, she wondered what was now left for everyone and what the point of all the sacrifices was. Was there even a point to so much loss, so much death? Does this war merely set the stage for even more destruction? Clearing those distressing thoughts from her mind, Alexandra inhaled the sweet breeze that blew gently through the long graceful branches of the willow tree. Each leaf seemed to give off a ray of sunlight and whispered of peace and healing as it swayed to and fro.

         Footsteps on the path behind her caught her attention. Thinking it was her Johnny come to fetch her, Alexandra turned around with a smile. What greeted her eyes startled her speechless. Her first thought was that she had wished and dreamed to the breaking point and had finally lost her mind. Alexandra shut her eyes tight, willing the madness away. When she reopened them, the vision did not disappear or change- it really was him. Alexandra leapt into John’s arms and held him tight. They were alone in the garden with only the willow and the flowers there to witness their passionate reunion. In a world stripped of innocence and still reeling from the aftermath of war, that couple discovered there still was love and dreams for the future.

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