The Dutch Wife Read Online Free PDF

said.
    THE FROSTS CAME and there was no more gardening. He asked her if he might order a punching bag from the Eaton’s catalogue. When it arrived, he strung it up in the enclosed porch. Each day around noon, he’d strip to the waist and pound at that bag till his body glistened with sweat. Sometimes he’d spend another fifteen minutes with a skipping rope. Then he’d shower and join her for lunch, full of good spirits.
    One thing especially pleased her. She felt that, more and more, when those pale blue eyes looked at her, she could see love in them. They’d been together for three months and she was happier than she’d ever been in her life.
    ONE LATE AFTERNOON in early December, the first snowfall came. They sat by the living-room window watching it slowly erase the last colours of the year.
    “It’s beautiful,” he said over and over again.
    “Yes,” she said. “Let’s stay here, forever.”
    They were sitting side by side and he was stroking her hair.
    That was when she made her announcement. “Rowland,” she said, “I’m going to have a baby.”
    “Are you serious?” he said quietly, looking at her.
    “Of course I am,” she said.
    “Rachel,” he said. “That’s great!” He kissed her and was quiet for a moment. Then he spoke again, very softly. “Maybe now’s the time to straighten things out between us,” he said. “Maybe I should tell you who I am?”
    She pushed him away. “What are you talking about?” she said. “Do you want to spoil everything? Are you crazy?”
    He pleaded with her. “We can’t pretend forever,” he said.
    She was stunned to hear him say such a thing. “Enough!” she said. “That’s enough. Don’t ever talk about it.”
    He was silent for so long she was afraid she’d offended him. “Rowland,” she said soothingly, leaning against him. “I really do love you. Nothing else matters.” She took his hand.
    The light was so dim now she could barely see his face. He raised her hand to his lips.
    “I love you too, Rachel,” he said. “I only hope you’re right.”
    THE BABY WAS BORN and they called him Thomas. They loved him and took him everywhere.
    On a Saturday morning in June—the baby was three months old—they went shopping at the market. He was carrying Thomas in his arms, she was carrying the shopping bag. They saw a crowd at the corner and heard a loud voice. They stopped to see what was going on.
    On a podium a thin-faced soldier was shouting through a speaking trumpet. He had a Sergeant’s stripes on his brown sleeve. Rachel thought he was a very severe-looking man. Behind him was a big poster of an even sterner-looking soldier with a moustache, his finger jabbing at the audience. The message on the poster read: “ YOUR COUNTRY NEEDS YOU .”
    As Rachel watched, the Sergeant beckoned to another brown-uniformed soldier in the crowd. “Up here, Private, on the double,” he said.
    The soldier climbed the podium stairs awkwardly. He was very young, and when he removed his cap, he looked like a schoolboy, with brown hair plastered back.
    “Now, ladies and gentlemen,” said the Sergeant. “Keep an eye on this lad if you want to see an example of true patriotism and courage.” To the Private, who seemed embarrassed, he said: “Strip.”
    The young soldier unbuttoned his tunic and handed it to the Sergeant. Then he opened his shirt.
    Rachel gasped at the sight.
    The soldier’s slight body was a mass of livid scars and dark incisions that were barely healed.
    “This young man,” announced the Sergeant, “was sprayed with shrapnel from a shell, just six months ago on the Western Front. In spite of that, he can’t wait to get back to war. Isn’t that so, Private?”
    “Yes, Sergeant,” said the soldier.
    “Now for something interesting,” said the Sergeant. Out of his pocket he took some shiny little horseshoes and held them up to the crowd. “These are magnets,” he said. “Watch this.” He held out one of the magnets towards the