Tears of the Poppies: Forever Love Trilogy, #2

By James Keith

On the day George was born in 1897, no one knew of the true hero he would become.

 

With the death of a loved one on an ill-fated ocean-liner, to losing his mother to a horrible addiction, and war tearing his world apart—each harsh tragedy will help mold him into the man he is destined to become.

 

Yet this journey is not one he will face alone. With his best friend by his side, the pair will embark on adventures that will cross continents and cut through the stifling smoke of war.

 

Battling through agonizing losses and gut-wrenching guilt, can George find the happiness that has always evaded him? Or will his gift to the world be his sacrifice?

 

Tears of the Poppies is the highly anticipated prequel of the Forever Love trilogy and sets the story for the critically acclaimed novel, Under the Sycamore Tree.

• Language: English
• Publisher: James Keith
• Release date: Jul 31, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393282778

Book preview

1

Birth of a Hero

No one is born a hero. We are what we become. We can choose to be brave or we can choose to hide. What makes one a hero is doing something for others of great kindness.

It was a cold January day in Birmingham, 1897. The snow was heavy on the ground and people were wearing their warmest coats and hats. In a house, not far from the town centre, a heavily pregnant Margaret was in labour with her husband, Henry, by her side. Margaret was lying on the cold stone floor in the living room; the smell of fresh blood was making Henry’s stomach curdle. The lighting was poor. Henry was struggling to light the oil lanterns as his hands were shaking from the cold blowing wind seeping through the gaps in the windows, his nerves running faster than a train. He was scared, yet excited at the same time. The combined sound of the wind bashing against the house and Margaret's screams could lead any passer-by to imagine that there was nothing but true horror going on inside the house. Margaret could feel the vibrations from the wind pulsating through the floor and into her spine.

Push! shouted the midwife.

Margaret was in intense pain, but she was pushing as hard as she could. Soon after, the cries of a new-born baby could be heard. Covered in blood and crying ever so loudly, the scene appeared to look like an image from the newspaper from when Jack the Ripper had mutilated his victims. The baby was placed onto Margaret’s chest. An overjoyed Henry sat down beside Margaret, a huge smile upon his face.

Isn’t he such a miracle! Margaret said to Henry.

Yes, our miracle.

The baby had his father’s eyes and a cry that could pierce the ears of anyone close by.

Oh, I do hope this is not going to become normal, joked Henry. Margaret gave Henry a cold, deep stare. Henry could feel his throat going dry. He had made such a foolish comment, and now he had to pay the price. Margaret only ever gave Henry cold stares when he either said something foolish or behaved in a way that was unacceptable, not unlike the time when he once dropped all the eggs on the floor that he had collected from a farm.

Henry could sense the irritability flowing through Margaret. He couldn't respond; he knew he was in the wrong, so he remained quiet and began to stroke the baby’s hair.

Welcome to the world, George, Margaret said softly as she was cuddling up to her newly born son. George was then swiftly taken by the midwife and had his umbilical cord cut. He was given a clean and wrapped in soft fresh white blankets.

Henry, could you please go and get some warm water for us? asked the midwife. Certainly he replied.

Henry headed into the kitchen. He lit a flame for the stove. The kitchen was dark brown in colour, the floor a very hard stone design. One that was full of lumps and bumps. The stove was a simple single flame stove, with just enough of a flame to boil some water. The kitchen was always so very cold. It had a very creaky back door that would rattle in the wind and the only way to warm it up would be to light the stove. He grabbed a cast-iron kettle and filled it with water. He then placed it on the stove and stared at it whilst it warmed.

Meanwhile, Margaret had fallen deeply in love with George – the tiny miracle in her arms. Her own child and family. One that she had hoped and longed for, for a very long time.

Henry arrived back with the warm water. He poured it into a wooden bowl for the midwife who was seeing to Margaret. Henry could not wait for the blood to be cleaned off the floor - for the smell to finally be gone. He started to scrub the floor whilst the midwife tended very carefully to Margaret. Everything seems to be fine, Margaret,'' she said, but I will have to keep coming back to check on George and yourself."

Margaret gave the midwife a tired, shaky smile, as she left the room to get some much-needed rest. Margaret wanted nothing more than to just spend all of her time with George. Henry went over to the fireplace and lit the fire. It was so cold outside that he wanted to make sure that he kept the house nice and warm for Margaret and George. The sound of the crisp burning wood was therapeutic, it was very relaxing. The sound and the smell of the wood started to make everyone feel rather sleepy - even baby George, who had now stopped crying.

Henry slouched down into his armchair. He felt exhausted after a long day at work and then being up all night with Margaret.

Excuse me? There is no time for lying about, scowled Margaret. Henry stood up from his chair.

What would you like me to do? he asked.

Take your son for a while, so I can get myself properly cleaned up and have at least some dignity. Henry walked over to Margaret and nervously bent down to carefully pick up George, his large hands fumbling around the warm bundle. He went back over to his armchair and sat down, cradling George in his arms. Henry was besotted with his new son; he was so happy that he had a boy. He could teach him everything he knew about being a strong working-class man.

Henry was a miner. He wanted nothing more than for his son to follow in his footsteps. To be the best man he could be. Someone who could provide for the family. Henry was a family man. He had dreams of giving the best life he could to both Margaret and George. He dreamed of working in America, helping in the oil fields. He hoped these dreams one day would come true. Margaret was a housewife. She stayed at home and ensured that everything was managed; cleaning, washing etc., so when Henry returned home from work, everything would be in order, so he was able to relax.

Margaret had an even bigger role to play at home. She was now a mother and was so proud of baby George. She could not wait to take him out to show him off to her friends, but the thick snow and the bitter cold of winter were thwarting this.

Henry dear, when do you think this weather will change? I would love to take George out for a stroll so he can experience the fresh air. Henry looked up, a bit dazed and confused.

"You have only just given birth. Surely it is not safe to take George out yet, especially in this cold. The midwife returned to the room after overhearing the conversation.

No, you must not take the baby outside. Please be patient. I usually advise mothers to leave it at least two weeks before that should happen.

Two weeks? Really, that long, replied Margaret, in a soft gentle tone. Henry could see that she was looking heartbroken. He also wanted nothing more than to spend time with his family.

Later, Henry was sitting by the fire, holding George on his lap. Margaret was watching over them both. I could not be happier, he declared.

When do you go back to work dear? asked Margaret.

Tomorrow. I cannot take a day off. I won’t get paid, replied Henry. Margaret became irritated. Why was work always so important to Henry? It was as if his life revolved around his work and having money in his pocket.

It is not always about money, Henry. We would both like you to stay home a few days. Help settle in George she replied. Henry was not open for a debate; he knew that this could potentially lead to an argument or an awkward situation. He had to go to work. He couldn’t risk losing his job. But then he did not want to let his family down. He wanted to make sure he could be there and provide support when it was needed. The dilemma was eating him up inside.

Henry made sure that for the rest of the day he was fully supportive towards Margaret and George. He wanted to ensure that everything was perfect as he had to go to work the following day. He just did not know how to explain this to Margaret as she was already very annoyed that he had even considered the prospect of work.

Would you like a cup of tea? he asked Margaret in a very sweet tone.

Another one Henry, are you after something? she replied. Henry started to feel goosebumps on his arms. He knew Margaret was onto him. He had already made her two cups of tea in the last hour alone. This was so unlike him that it was only starting to raise suspicion. Henry made Margaret and himself a cup of tea and then sat down in his armchair.

Dearest…

If this is about you going to work, I do not want to hear it! snapped Margaret. Henry started to sink in his chair.

But I have to go to work. We need the money for George, he replied. Henry was very nervous; he did not want to irritate Margaret any more than he had to.

Do whatever you want Henry. You are going to go anyway, so whatever I say will be irrelevant anyway. Henry felt a huge sigh of relief, he had upset Margaret, but in a way, he now had her blessing for him to go back to work. He knew she would be OK, She had baby George to look after all day, so of course, everything would be good. The midwife reappeared struggling to sleep due to the arguments that Henry and Margaret were having.

I think you and George should get some rest, said the midwife.

I agree, said Henry. Margaret was exhausted, she had been awake all night and had barely had any rest for the last few days.

Very well, she replied. Margaret was helped upstairs by Henry whilst the midwife carried up George. The bedroom was full of clutter including a half-built cot in the corner. The midwife was a little shocked that very little preparation had been made for the arrival of a new baby but knew this was not her place to start criticising.

I will get that finished tonight, said Henry pointing over to the cot. Margaret got into bed.

I will take him, she said to the midwife. The midwife handed George over to Margaret where she placed him on the bed next to her. Henry made his way back over to the cot and started to put it together.

I shall see you tomorrow, said the midwife. She gave George and Margaret a smile as she left the room.

Henry, please stop with the noise. We need to sleep, pleaded Margaret. Henry, who was banging away at the cot did not realise how loud he was being.

Oh, I am terribly sorry, he replied. I just wanted to make sure that this was all built, so George had somewhere to sleep.

George can sleep with me tonight here, replied Margaret.

Well, where am I supposed to sleep, my dear? Margaret gave Henry a cold stare

I do not care where you sleep. How about in the snow outside, or in your chair where you nap straight after work every single day. Henry did not want to argue or fight. He knew that Margaret was exhausted, in pain and needed her rest.

Very well, I shall sleep downstairs tonight and I will finish building this tomorrow. Henry climbed over all the clutter in the room. He gave Margaret a gentle peck and kissed George on the head. Goodnight son, he whispered. Henry then headed downstairs whilst Margaret blew out the candles in the bedroom to get her much needed sleep.

Henry fetched some blankets from the cupboard. He sat in his armchair and re-lit the fire. It was a very cold night and he wanted to try and keep the house warm for everyone in it. He sat down in his chair and closed his eyes. The wind outside was howling and the snow was heavy. He could hear the wooden panels from the privy outside banging hard against one another. He thought to himself that this was going to be a very long night. He was not wrong. The wind only picked up and the sound of the panels banging in the garden only got stronger as it went deeper into the night. Every now and again he would have to start lighting the fire back up. He was starting to run low on wood. Eventually, he managed to drop into sleep, wrapped up in three blankets and sat before the fire.

The light peeking through the lounge window woke Henry in the morning. As he slowly opened his eyes, he could see that this only meant one thing. He was late for work. He jumped up off the chair, still half asleep and ran out of the door. As he was trying not to slip in the snow he started to think. He had not said goodbye to Margaret or George.

I am such a fool! he shouted loudly. But instead of turning and heading home, he ran straight to the mines for his shift.

You are late! shouted Graham.

I am really sorry, but my son was born yesterday. I have been up for days. I am just really tired, replied an out-of-breath Henry.

Why are you here? asked the senior staff member.

Well, I am here to work. I need the money. The staff member headed over to another member of staff. Henry could see that they were having a brief discussion. Henry started to get himself ready to head into the mine when suddenly he was called over by the two staff members.

You said your son was born yesterday? said the staff member.

Yes sir replied Henry.

Well, then you best get home to your family. What is the boy’s name?

His name is George sir. But I cannot have any time off work, I need the wage, Henry replied looking very glum.

No need to worry about that, we will pay you until the end of the week. Now go and celebrate your son’s arrival with your wife. Henry was absolutely gobsmacked. No one had ever done such a good deed for him before.

Thank you so much sir, I will see you bright and early Monday morning.

An overjoyed Henry started to run back home with renewed energy. The bitter wind was freezing on his face. He did not have his coat - just the clothes he had been wearing all night. He had completely forgotten it that morning as he was late for work. Henry ran and he ran, not looking at where he was placing his footing, he slipped on some ice. He fell forwards and landed flat on his face. He let out a moan. He sat himself up and started to brush the thick snow off of his clothes. He was filthy. Another great start to the day. He stood back up and walked the rest of the way home. As he opened the front door he was greeted by Margaret

You are home early, she said.

They let me have the rest of the week off and they are going to pay me, said an excitable Henry.

Well dear, I suggest you get cleaned up. You’re filthy. Margaret was indicating to Henry's clothes and the dirt all over his hands and face. Henry went into the kitchen and got himself a large pot. He went outside and filled it with water before returning it to the stove. Once it was warm Henry washed down his hands and face and changed his clothes before heading back into the living room to see Margaret and George.

Henry sat down in his armchair with a bulging smile on his face. He was so happy that he was at home, being able to spend time with his wife and his new-born son.

Dear, could you please make us a cup of tea. It is rather cold today. Could you also please light the fire? asked Margaret. Henry had only just sat down. He started to wonder if it may have been better if he had just insisted on staying at work. He went into the kitchen and put more water on the stove. He then headed out into the garden. The wind had really picked up and the snow was falling heavier than it ever had. He had to fight his way over to the woodshed. As he opened the door the wind almost took it straight out of his hands. It banged hard on the side of the shed. Henry stepped into the shed and picked up some wood for the fire. He then started to head back to the house. The snow in the garden was thick and deep. Henry was struggling to keep his balance. He made it back to the house and took the wood into the living room before heading back outside to lock up the woodshed.

Henry battled back through the treacherous conditions in the garden, trying to step in the space where he had stepped before. The snowfall was so intense, and his previous footprints were starting to fill with soft fluffy snow. He was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to rest as he got to the woodshed. He grabbed the door. He pulled and pulled against the wind trying to close it. Then snow was causing the door to become jarred. Henry went into the shed and got his shovel. He started to shovel the snow away from the doorway so he could close the door. After a few minutes it was clear and with all his might Henry managed to force the door to the woodshed into a position he quickly put a bolt through it and headed back inside.

Henry’s hands were bright red, the sensations in his fingertips had gone. He could not feel a thing. He was so cold. He held his hands over the stove to try and warm them up. He could feel some tingling in the ends of his fingers. He managed to make two cups of tea. Thank you, dear, said Margaret who was wrapping George in more blankets to keep him warm. Henry headed over to the fireplace and started to light the fire. His hands were still very red and cold. Once the fire was lit, he held his hands in front of it, hoping to warm himself up. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

Henry stood up and headed to the front door. He just could not seem to get a break today.

Who is it? he shouted through the door.

It’s the midwife. Henry quickly opened the door and let the midwife in. She was also covered in snow, but luckily, she was wrapped up very well. As she came into the house, she noticed Henry’s hands.

May I take a look at your hands? she asked. Henry held out his hands. The midwife placed her hands on his and was shocked at how cold they were.

You need to warm these up slowly, go and sit by the fire Henry did not hesitate. He had medical advice now. He sat by the fire and started to feel relaxed. He did not need to worry about doing anything else - well not for now anyway.

How was your night? the midwife asked Margaret.

It was good, we managed to get some sleep, Margaret replied. The midwife smiled, George was fast asleep in his mother’s arms and looked so warm and cosy under all the blankets that Margaret had wrapped him in.

May I just check him over? asked the midwife. Margaret handed George to the midwife who unwrapped him from his blankets. George’s eyes started to open, he let out a few cries. The midwife had a good look at George and then wrapped him back up in his blankets before handing him back over to his mother.

Everything is fine, said the midwife. Margaret started to rock George to try and get him to settle. The midwife then went over to Henry to check and see how his hands were. They are starting to look better, she said.

Feels better too, I have feelings again in the tips of my fingers replied a delighted Henry.

I shall visit again tomorrow, but now I must brace the weather and get off to my next appointment. The midwife saw herself out not before saying goodbye to everyone.

For the rest of the day, Henry was able to relax. He did not have to keep running around and doing chores. Margaret could see how intense the weather was outside and that there was easily enough wood in the house now to keep the fire going for a few days. Henry would hold George on his lap whilst Margaret prepared the meals throughout the day.

Henry was a very proud father and he could not believe how lucky he was to have such a beautiful baby boy of his own. He would often think about his parents, who they were and where they might be now. Henry was an orphan. He had lived in an orphanage until he was sixteen years old. He never knew who his parents were. All he did know was that they abandoned him on the orphanage steps when he was only a baby. To Henry, his parents were the nuns who ran the orphanage, but yet the questions in his mind would always be there. He would often say to himself, Who are my parents, why did they not want me? Henry knew that these questions would probably always go unanswered, however, it would not stop his mind from wandering.

When he looked at George, he could not understand why anyone would abandon their own child into an orphanage. Maybe they could not afford to look after him, maybe they did not care. All these thoughts would start to upset Henry. He knew he had to take his mind off what he was thinking. So, he carried George around the house, talking to him in funny voices to keep his own mind occupied.

What on earth are you doing dear? called Margaret as she was bringing in pots from the kitchen. We are having fun, Henry replied. Margaret just smiled, she had not seen Henry looking so happy and acting so carefree since before they got married. It was good to see him looking joyful again. Margaret had wondered if there was something eating Henry up inside, but she did not want to ask, She did not want to pry and, of course, she did not want to cause him any unnecessary upset. In Margaret’s eyes if Henry wanted to talk about anything, then he would do this when he was ready, not because he was forced to.

Margaret started to lay the table for dinner. She had cooked potatoes and rabbit stew. Henry placed George down in his pram. Will you have George’s bed ready for tonight? asked Margaret.

Yes, of course, replied Henry. He had forgotten all about building the cot. He was now going to fix this soon as they had finished dinner. The smell of the stew was just too inviting for Henry to delay his dinner. They both tucked into their meals with Henry eating particularly fast.

Slow down dear, you will give yourself an upset stomach, joked Margaret.

Sorry, I am just keen to make sure that George’s bed is ready for tonight he replied.

It will not take that long dear, please slow down and enjoy your meal. Henry gave Margaret a sweet loving smile and started to pace himself. It was delicious; a meal that Henry loved so much. As he came to the end of