In the surgeon's wagon

"For that you have to be a very good student. And I believe you have been." She leaned on her elbow and gave him his reward.

That was nice, very nice. He gently ran a finger round her ear and down her jaw to her chin. "My own sweet Maggie," he said quietly when they drew apart. "I love you, sweeting."

Why did it make her blush? And giggle like a goose? "I know," she answered shyly.

"I thought I'd lost you, love," he said, softly stroking her cheek with his finger. "And that frit me more'n thinkin' about the lash."

"Stop it," she said mildly. "You won't lose me so easy as that. Have you... have you had many sweethearts, Gabe?"

"There was Molly Larkin, but I was young; no more'n sixteen. But she was a flighty thing anyway. And folks said Liza Thomas liked me, but I never walked out with her, like."

He smiled at her. "And there's you. And I like you much more'n them, sweeting."

"Were they girls back home? Or... Liza Thomas, did I know her?"

"Molly was back home. You might have known Liza though. Last I heard, she went off with some soldier in the 44th."

Maggie's eyes positively sparkled with sudden glee. "I do remember! And she did fancy you! I had forgot all about that! I don't think I knew you then. I knew who you were but... Liza Thomas! And yes, she married that bloke from Sussex who was so tall and loud, and her so quiet, such a funny pair. Oh, she was a sweet thing, Gabe! Didn't you like her?"

"Oh, I liked her well enough, but I'd only just come to the Rifles, and was still tryin' to figure things out. And I wasn't too sure whether folks were joshin' me or not. 'Sides, I like you a whole lot better than her. She was too quiet for me."

He smiled at her and shifted a little, trying to get more comfortable.

"You'd only just come to the rifles? I don't remember when that was. Where had you been before?"

"I was in the 22nd that I got recruited to after havin' to leave home. An' then one day me Captain calls me in an' says the 60th are lookin' for men, what did I think about joinin' them." He looked at her wryly. "An' you know what it's like when an officer asks summat."

"When and where was that? I can't remember if you joined before or after I did - well, Jem and me, I mean."

"That was '07, I think - not that long ago, really. An' I think you was already with the Rifles when I joined them."

"Is that all? I thought you'd been with us longer." She stopped and laughed at herself. "But listen to me, talking like it's my rifle company. Well, I suppose in a way it is, since I'm still on the strength. And you've been gone from home five years, you said?"

"I took the shillin' the year afore Trafalgar. It was after harvest, though, so... four and a half years? Seems longer, sometimes, an' other times, it seems no time at all."

"Same as me too, then, just about," she replied thoughtfully. "I were sixteen. I barely remember what home was like. Do you? I do remember but... It seems so long ago."

He shook his head at her, smiling. "Every time I've tried to tell you about me home, you've gone to sleep on me, you know. Didn't know it was a good time bedtime story, like. But, yes, I remember home. Would've been better if it wasn't for the Squire's bloody son, though. He was a bully, he was."

"I do not! Do I really? But I've heard you tell about home, and the squire's son fighting with you and sending you all away, so I must have been awake for some of it!" she protested, lightly slapping his hand. "I meant - well, I remember home too, but it doesn't seem real. Like remembering a dream. And all I've wanted for the longest time is to go home, but... I don't even know if I have any friends still there. It's been such a long time, and I know I've changed. They've probably changed too. And my father - I don't really care to see my father. There's Jem's family, and they were almost like my own family, but - they're not. And I don't know if they'd want to see me again." She paused, thinking, and then gave him an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, I don't know what got me started talking about all that."

"It's summat to talk about, anyway. An' if you go back now, they'll all be jealous of you, gettin' to go places they'll never go, an' see stuff they won't never see. I don't think Ma will like to know I'm a soldier - nobody likes soldiers after all - but mebbe it'll be better if'n she knows I'm a Rifleman. And an officer's batman." He grinned. "Ain't nobody in my family ever been a personal servant to anyone, not ever, afore me. So mebbe she'll be proud o' that."

She looked at him with an amiable jealousy in her eyes, and a wistful smile. "I'd like to meet your ma."

"She's nice. She ain't me real mum. Mum died when I was mebbe four or five an' I don't 'member her much. And Dad married again - had to, he had four of us kids to look after, and had to go to work every day. Couldn't leave us in the house by ourselves, not that young. So he married Ma." He smiled. "She'd like you, Maggie."

He reached out and twined a loose strand of her hair round a finger. "Tell me... tell me a bit about your home. What you can remember, like. Please."

She laughed. "Well I haven't forgotten it. And I hadn't forgotten about your mother either. I do pay attention sometimes, you know. But no, it just seems like so long ago that it was another lifetime or something. Anyway, you know I'm from Dewsbury in west Yorkshire, and I lived with me mum and dad, but me mum died when I was little, about 8 or 9 years old I think, so then it was just me and me dad."

"It does, don't it? An' I know I could go back and work on a farm again, but I wouldn't be the same person any more. An'... how come you learned to read, like? I never had the chance for schoolin'. That was summat the tradesfolks' kids did, but not us labourers' kids. Couldn't afford it, see."

"Well me parents worked in the mill - so did I - and there was a school in the mill for us children. We would go to school in the morning and then go to work in the afternoon. And then home to finish our schoolwork. I was so tired, all the time... But I liked learning to read. The school was a new thing, and my parents thought it mighty strange, but then I could read a newspaper to them, and they liked that. And I could read a Bible when we went to church on Sundays. And you, Gabe, soon you'll be reading everything! Just wait, all the men will be coming to you to say 'Gabe Cotton, will you read this to me?' And next it will be 'Gabe Cotton, will ye write a letter for me?' and then I'll be out of a business!"