Writing.....

The first section of my third novel. I finally feel comfortable posting it here...........please leave comments, but don't steal my work or be unkind.

The cold glass was hard and uncaring against my hot forehead. I gazed out at the nothingness. Rain poured down in rivets and the gray English countryside seemed to be even more dulled by the mood that was heavy in my soul. I didn't care; there was nothing I could do. I used to be angry. I used to fight. But now I simply stared out the window. 

Without any individual reason I suddenly collapsed in the windowseat and twisted my dress in my hands, letting out a moan. I was just glad it wasn't thundering. The thunder reminded me of the war. And the misery. 

"Eleanor!" I jumped as the voice brought me back to reality and turned, without standing up, towards the doorway the voice came from. My aunt's voice. My mother's sister. Susan Shortridge. Her very name was ironic. She was tall for a woman, taller than most, standing at nearly five feet, eleven inches. Her long dark hair and piercing blue eyes contrasted so much to my mother's mouse-brown hair, hazel eyes, and freckles. Yet when standing side by side, you knew that Alice Parker and Susan Shortridge were sisters. 

Tears filled my eyes when I saw her. A reminder that my mother and I were separated by the war, for how long, only God knew. I leaned weakly against the windowpane again, turning away from her and shutting my eyes tightly, trying to force back the awful burning tears that threatened to put me in an embarrassing position. 

The rustle of fabric and a faint scent of flowers told me my aunt was at my side. I scrunched up my face. I was nearly eighteen years old. Too big to cry for my mother. Susan's hand on my shoulder was an almost familiar presence, like my mother's and yet not. Could never be. The similarity was the very thing that upset me. Reminded me that my Mamma was not there. 

"Dinner is ready, Ellie," my aunt told me quietly. I inclined my head to show I heard her but spoke not a word. This was only my third night living with my aunt in the shire of the distant English countryside, far from my home in London. I swallowed hard and turned to face her. Tears spilled out of my eyes and down my face. 

My aunt's face softened and she drew me to her, holding my shoulders. I loved her dearly but I felt cold and distant toward her. I still faced away, staring out the window and seeing my mother's freckled, cheerful face in my mind. Finally I sucked in a breath. 

"Aunt Susan." I stopped and tried again; tears choked my throat. "She will call tonight, won't she?" 

Susan squeezed my shoulder. "She told you she would, Eleanor. I am sure she will do her best. But her work may keep her from it." 

I nodded and bit my lip hard. Alice, my Mamma, worked for the war efforts. Actually, we both had, up until a few months ago. When the bombing began. London was completely devastated. My mother alongside many other patriotic-minded women had taken me under her wing and brought relief to the hundreds who had lost their homes in the awful Nazi air raids. But as they became more frequent and more frightening, Mamma became afraid for me, and sent me to my aunt. 

"She will do her best," I whispered, concentrating on a dirt plod outside. Aunt Susan held me closer. My body began to unstiffen. 

"She loves you, Eleanor," Susan said quietly. "Ever since your father--" My body stiffened again. 

"Don't." I pulled away from her and stood up. Helplessly Susan shook her head. "I'm sorry, Ellie," she apologized, but I was done. Papa had been my hero before he died when I was twelve. Mamma had never been the same after he passed. The light had almost left her sparkling green eyes completely. But she was strong, and she helped me to be. 

I sat down on the other side of the room at the piano. Lovingly my fingers caressed the keys, producing no sound, but they soothed me. The black contrasting with the white. I closed my eyes again as I heard my aunt leaving the room. 

The phone rang. I instantly bolted from the piano and fled past my aunt to pick up the receiver, despite her "Ellie, wait!" I answered the call, just knowing it was my mother on the other end. 

"Mamma?"

Her voice on the other end made the tears start flowing again. But this time I smiled. I could see her expression in my mind; she was standing by the window, twirling a lock of her shaggy curls on the end of her finger, her eyebrows slightly cocked forward as she listened to me. She was smiling coyly, in the almost foxlike way she had. I felt a shiver go down my spine and I grinned through my tears. 

"Eleanor Parker, your voice is a sound for sore ears! How are you, little one?" I smiled again. Alice Parker insisted on calling her only daughter "little one" even though she knew I was growing up. It was endearing now. 

"Are you alright, Mamma?" I asked through my tears. "Uncle Alec said there was a bombing again last night." 

"Not to worry, Ellie, I'm fine," she told me. "I'm at home looking out the window." 

I grinned. "I knew you would be," I told her. She laughed. The sound made my heart feel lighter and I laughed back. I never wanted to leave the phone. 

"You sound upset, love. What's wrong? Is the country really all that miserable?" Mamma asked quietly. Her voice made me want to break down, but I held it together. Barely. 

"No, it's quite nice," I said feebly. "You've been here before, you know." The lump in my throat choked me and I stopped speaking. 

"Ellie, what's wrong?" Mamma murmured. I stopped trying to force back emotion. "I'm afraid for you," I wept. "I miss you but it's more than that. If I thought you'd be alright, I'd never have to worry this much."

"Oh sweet girl, I'll be alright, don't you worry!" Alice Parker tried to comfort me. "When I can leave, I'll come to stay with Alec and Susan. It's going to be fine, love." 

I said nothing. Tears were running down my face and burning my eyes and nose. I closed my eyes hard and focused on her voice. "Promise, Mamma?" I asked when I could speak again. 

"Promise. I'll do everything I can to make it happen as soon as possible, alright, love?" she said reassuringly. I nodded and she seemed to know it, even though I knew she couldn't see me. 

"Good girl." I could imagine her squeezing my shoulder in that brief but very affectionate way she had. I missed it. "Now don't cry so much for your Aunt Susan, Eleanor," Mamma told me. "You'll be fine. I'll be fine. I'll be in Yorkshire as soon as I can get there. Okay?" 

"Yes, Mamma," I whispered. I knew she was smiling by the tone of her voice. 

"I love you, little one," she told me softly. "Stay strong for me, okay?" 

"I will," I sniffled. "Do you want Aunt Susan?" 

Mamma said yes, so I handed off the receiver. My aunt shot me a look of sympathy as she spoke to her sister and didn't stop looking at me the whole time. Her blue eyes were clouded for a moment but then they cleared again. I stared at her, hoping my Mamma hadn't told me an untruth. 

As she replaced the receiver I clenched my fists together again. My aunt was solemn. "There were more bombings last night, Ellie, but your Mamma is just fine." She smiled then. I felt myself falling apart. The constant worry would eat me alive. 

"Aunt Susan..." I began. Interrupted by my tears I hid my face in my hands. Mamma wasn't going to make it. I just had a sense. I couldn't lose my Mamma. I just couldn't do it.