Daisychain Summer

  ‘We’ll think about it later. Promise you’ll go back?’

  ‘I want to, Daisy. If I can, I will. I promise.’

  ‘Then let’s not say that man’s name any more. Let’s enjoy each day as it comes?’

  ‘And make this a wonderful summer, what’s left of it.’

  ‘Our daisychain summer, Keth. One we’ll always have, no matter what happens?’

  ‘No matter what.’ He bent to kiss her again. ‘I want you Daisy, so much.’

  ‘I want you, too. Have you ever, Keth – since you left?’

  ‘No. And I know you haven’t. That’s why it’s best to wait, I suppose.’

  ‘Mam says so, too …’

  ‘So we’ll not do anything stupid? We’ll wait?’

  ‘If we can,’ she smiled, suddenly wise. ‘If we can, my darling …’

  Peace for our Time

  ‘There! That’s the parish magazines seen to.’ Julia fished in her pocket, emptying its contents into the toffee tin on Nathan’s desk. ‘Everybody paid. What a job! Everyone wanted a chat – mostly about Mr Chamberlain and what he’s going to do about Hitler. Your new curate’s wife is welcome to the job. When are they arriving, by the way?’

  ‘Soon. One set of twins has measles and they’re expecting the other two to go down with it. She was most apologetic and looking forward to being here – eventually.

  ‘She liked the house the day she came to see it, though I could almost hear her mind boggling at the size of the windows. I’ll leave as much as I can for them, and your mother has offered to help out with curtains and rugs and odd pieces of furniture. Luckily, she said, Miss Clitherow always keeps the seven-year rule.’

  ‘Does she? And what is that?’

  ‘Never throw anything away. Keep a thing for seven years, Miss Clitherow says, and you’ll always find a use for it.’

  ‘So you’ve made up your mind to move out to Pendenys?’

  ‘I have, even though I was thankful, I remember, to leave it to come here. Father says I’m a fool, but it seems wrong, my living alone here. This house needs a family in it. Your mother said she had no objection to the curate having it. I did ask her. After all, it’s Rowangarth’s house, though the church doesn’t pay rent for it.’

  ‘I know that. But it’s sad you’re going back to the Place. No one should have to live there. I wish your father liked London a bit more, then he could use the Cheyne Walk house and close Pendenys Place down – or give it to the Riding to use as a museum.’

  ‘Or as a Town Hall! Are you going to stay to tea? It’s nearly time. I’ll pop downstairs and ask Cook to put another cup on the tray.’

  Julia took off her jacket, draped it across a chairback, then walked to the window. Soon, Mr Chamberlain and Monsieur Daladier were to meet Mussolini and Hitler, make a last-minute appeal for sanity; or a warning, would they give, that he was to go no farther?

  And what would they achieve? Promises, soon to be broken, or a genuine desire on the part of the dictators for peace? Germany had been badly treated at the end of the war, Julia admitted reluctantly, had been subjugated and belittled and perhaps they wanted not revenge but a place, once more, amongst the nations of Europe.

  Yet Hitler was a madman. Jinny Dobb said he listened to fortune-tellers and occultists and a man – a head of state – who would do that was to be feared. Germany was riding high, and cock-a-hoop that it should be feared again. Could an old, frail man halt its march to power?

  Anna thought there would be a war, Julia frowned; Albert thought so, too; even Keth had come home because of it.

  Poor Keth, poor Daisy, poor Clan. All of them young and good to look at and loved. Not another war, oh, please, no more killing? Not Drew? Not her beloved young ones?

  ‘Here we are.’ Nathan set down the tray. ‘Thought I’d bring it with me – save their legs. Shall I pour?’

  ‘Please,’ Julia murmured, without turning, still gazing out of the window, seeing nothing, returning to her thoughts.

  Nathan didn’t summon servants, but carried trays to save their aching feet. Nathan was prepared to give up a house he was happy in because a curate with a small stipend and a large family needed it more. Dear Nathan, who once said he loved her. But that was a long time ago, when she had said goodbye to Andrew, and he had not mentioned marriage since.

  Perhaps he wasn’t content with her terms? Maybe he wanted a wife who loved him – really loved him – and not one who clung to memories.

  She knew now that she was no longer Andrew’s wife, but his widow. The fact had come to her in a flash of recognition at the cemetery at Étaples. It had not been a road-to-Damascus, blinding revelation; more something she had gathered to her out of the atmosphere and recognized and accepted. And then the blackbird began to sing again and it was as if Andrew was telling her from so many years away, that she was free.

  ‘Nathan,’ she said softly, turning to take the cup he offered. ‘Once, I asked you to marry me. It was new year, remember, only I’d left it too late …’

  ‘I do remember. And I thanked you and told you that when the time was right, I would ask you. Is the time right, Julia? If I asked you again, what would you say to me?’

  His eyes sought hers anxiously, as if he should not ask because he feared her answer.

  ‘I would say,’ she said so softly that when she turned to face the window again, he could scarcely hear her words, ‘that once there was a girl, crazily besotted with her man, and hot for loving. It was her first love and it was wild and frightening and too wonderful to last.

  ‘And the woman I am now, realized that when I stood beside a grave at Étaples and all at once heard Andrew’s voice again that I could bring back everything we had said, all those years ago.

  ‘But it was a young nurse Andrew was talking to and I am middle-aged and dried up because I have shut out love, and if you were to ask me, I would want you to take me as I am.

  ‘The wildness has gone from me, Nathan. I need someone by my side; someone to lean on. And I want comfort and a shared fireside and if love – a different love – grows out of that, then I shall accept it gratefully. That is what I would say to you, my dear.’

  ‘Then knowing that the Julia I first fell in love with has passed the first flush of her youth and that I, too, have grown older with her and am willing to wait until that different, gentler loving happens, will you marry me?’

  ‘There’s a condition.’ She placed her cup and saucer on the windowsill and turned, chin high, to face him. ‘I won’t be mistress of Pendenys Place. I couldn’t live in a Town Hall, Nathan!’

  ‘Oh, my lovely Julia – stubborn to the end! Don’t change, will you? And since you will not have Pendenys, then I shall have to live with you, at Rowangarth. How does that suit you?’

  ‘Seems I’d be getting the best of both worlds …’

  There was a tap on the door and Cook stood there, a jug in her hand.

  ‘You forgot the hot water, sir.’

  ‘Oh, dear. My head won’t ever save your feet, will it? And I’m sorry, but we’ve let this tea go cold. Mrs MacMalcolm has just said she will marry me, you see, and …’

  ‘Oh, sir! Oh, madam! Oh, just wait till I tell them!’ She was gone in a flurry of excitement, the hot water jug still in her hand.

  ‘Well, that’s done it,’ Julia laughed shakily. ‘It’ll be half round the village already and I’ve hardly had time to say yes. Think we’d better phone mother before it reaches Rowangarth.’

  ‘I love you, Julia. We’ll be happy, I know it. And I’ll wait …’

  ‘Thank you for understanding.’

  She took a step nearer, needing his kiss, and he cupped her face in his hands and took her mouth gently, warmly. Then picking up the phone he said to the operator, ‘Good afternoon. Will you put me through to Rowangarth, please …’

  The last day of September, and so warm they sat on the grass beside the stile that separated Brattocks Wood from the wild garden.

  ‘Can you b
elieve it, Keth? Can you?’

  It was going to be all right. Mr Chamberlain and Monsieur Daladier had done what no one even wildly dreamed they would do. There was to be peace. Germany, Hider said, had made its last territorial demand in Europe.

  The Italian dictator, Benito Mussolini, had been there, though he had come away from the meeting empty-handed. But not so Hider. Germany was to be allowed the area of Czechoslovakia that was morally theirs, with no opposition to the occupation voiced by England and France.

  Yet, as Mam pointed out only that morning, it seemed that Russia, which minded very much about having Fascists so near to its frontier, was not asked to that meeting, and what was even more strange, Czechoslovakia wasn’t consulted at all!

  Mind, the remaining boundaries of that depleted country had been guaranteed. It had all been written down and signed by the four men. No more aggression. Mr Chamberlain had his piece of paper to prove it. What can’t speak can’t lie, Alice supposed, and sighed with relief along with the rest of the world.

  That precious piece of paper had been clutched in Mr Chamberlain’s old, frail hand. He waved it as he stepped from his plane at Croydon airport and waved it again from a first-floor window at Downing Street and called to the anxious crowds waiting below that it was peace for our time.

  It was all they wanted to hear. Four small, precious words that meant there would be no war; no killings nor partings; no more young, precious lives thrown to waste.

  ‘Believe it, sweetheart? It was sudden, wasn’t it – Hitler giving in like that?’

  ‘Yes, but Dada said – he’s always said – that Germany wouldn’t dare to go to war with us and France, again. Hitler’s more afraid of Russia, Dada says.’

  ‘Then I’m glad that someone can put the wind up him.’ Keth chewed reflectively on a stem of grass. ‘I’ll have to be leaving – you realize that?’ He said it without looking at her because he couldn’t bear to see the pain in her eyes. ‘I cabled Kentucky this morning. I’ll have to get back for the start of the new term. It’s been wonderful being with you, Daisy. Now I almost wish I hadn’t come home because we’ve got to say goodbye all over again.’

  ‘But it’s only for two years, this time.’ She tried to make light of it, that two years would pass quickly. ‘I’ve been thinking, Keth. It might take you ages to find a ship. It isn’t so easy, here. In England you’ve got to have a seaman’s card, or something, to get taken on as crew. You could be ever so late, getting back to college.’

  ‘I’ll manage. I got here, I’ll get back. Liverpool is nearest. I’ll go there.’

  ‘Yes, an’ you’d get back quicker if you got yourself a proper sailing ticket – and it needn’t cost the earth,’ she hastened. ‘I’ve got money, Keth. Let me give some to you? A one-way ticket doesn’t cost a lot. Let me, please?’

  ‘Daisy! I thought we’d agreed –’

  ‘Not Mr Hillier’s money! I’ve got some of my own. Mam gave me the bank book when I left school. It’s money she put away for me when I was born. I’ve had bikes out of it, and one or two more things, but it was Mam’s money when she was Lady Alice.

  ‘Sir Giles used to give her a clothing allowance, only she didn’t spend much of it, her being able to sew better than most. And when she married Dada, she didn’t think it right she should use another man’s money, sort of, to help furnish the house she and Dada would live in – so she put it all in the bank, for me!’

  ‘So you’ve got two fortunes, Daisy?’

  ‘No,’ she laughed. ‘There isn’t a lot – well, nothing at all if you compare it to what I’ll get, one day. But there’s enough to get you back to America and I want you to have it.’

  ‘No, love. Thank you, but no. I’ve got some money of my own. I worked in that hotel for a year, remember, and saved a few pounds. And I worked in Kentucky during vacation – I can get back under my own steam. Most merchant ships have a few cabins set aside for passengers and they’re cheap, too. I love you for offering, but I can’t take your money.’

  ‘Then let me come to Liverpool with you – see you off?’

  ‘No! For one thing, your dad would hit the roof and for another, I might be a couple of days getting a cabin fixed up. I’d have to go round the shipping offices, see what is sailing and from which dock. It wouldn’t be right – even if they’d let you come.’

  ‘You’re sure you’ll have enough money?’

  ‘I’m sure. Merchant ships’ cabins are very basic. They aren’t de luxe, like on the liners. I’ll make it all right.’

  ‘Then hurry up and get back to college. We are all right, now. There isn’t going to be a war and two years will soon pass. I don’t want you to go, but we’ve had a lovely bonus, haven’t we? That day you stood there, I couldn’t believe it. I hadn’t expected it for two more years.

  ‘But everything is going to be all right, now. Peace for our time, Keth. We’ll be married on my twenty-first, and oh, isn’t it lovely about Aunt Julia getting married? Mam’s thrilled to bits. Mind, it’s only going to be a quiet wedding. They’re getting married in York, and not at All Souls. Mam is making her dress. She’s going to have a long one and a big hat with roses on it …’

  ‘And you, my darling – what will you wear to our wedding?’

  ‘Silk, Mam says. People with my colouring look awful in stark white. Oh, Keth, there’s so much to look forward to. I couldn’t have borne it if you’d had to go to fight. That’s why it doesn’t seem so bad that you’re going to America.’

  ‘At least I’ll know I’ll be coming back alive!’ He rose to his feet, dusting himself down, reaching for her hand. ‘The grass is getting damp – you’ll catch a cold. Let’s walk.’

  ‘All right. Where to?’

  ‘Into Brattocks. I want to kiss you.’

  ‘And run into Dada, doing his rounds? Tell you what – let’s go to the far end, to the elms? Let’s tell it to the rooks, tell them about peace.’

  ‘And what else will you tell them?’ He pulled her arm into his because he couldn’t bear for them not to be touching; not when he was so soon to leave her.

  ‘I shall tell them that you are going away and that you’ll be back in no time at all with a degree in your pocket. And I’ll tell them that I love you and that we’ll be married on my birthday. That’s all I know – all that matters, anyway.’

  ‘Do you thank them for things?’

  ‘You should do – why?’

  ‘Then thank them for these weeks together.’

  ‘For our daisychain summer?’ Oh, yes, she would thank them for that; thank them she and Keth had been lovers and that it had been wonderful and that she hadn’t felt guilty about it – not even after the first time when she had gone home and Dada had been sitting there. He’d frowned, she remembered, and looked at his watch pointedly, as if to remind her she was late getting in. And still she hadn’t felt guilty.

  ‘Kiss me, Keth?’

  He took her in his arms, then, and it was a kiss she would remember always; one to sustain her through two lonely years until he came home to her.

  ‘I love you,’ he whispered throatily. ‘You’re mine.’

  ‘Yours …’

  ‘Come on,’ he said softly. ‘Let’s tell it to the rooks, tell them it’s peace.’

  ‘Peace in our time; peace for our time.’

  They were young. All at once, time was on their side. Nothing else mattered.

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