‘No, it was just a holiday even though it’s turned out to be quite a long one. I don’t want to outstay my welcome.’
‘But if you’re going to buy a car and race, you need to be down here.’
‘We’ll see,’ Pips said, carefully. She was torn; half of her longed to become part of the racing world, the other half was missing her home, her family and especially Daisy.
That evening she told Milly that she was going home.
‘Oh darling, just for a visit. You will come back, won’t you?’
‘Well, I don’t like to impose . . .’
‘Oh phooey.’ Milly flapped her hand and they both laughed as she copied Pips’s favourite saying. ‘Look, why don’t you move in with me? I love having you here and we get on well, don’t we?’
‘We do, but . . .’
‘You can pop up to Lincolnshire any time you want. So, what do you say?’
‘Only if you let me pay half the expenses of the apartment.’
Milly pulled a face. ‘There’s no need, but if that’s the only way you’ll come, then, yes.’
Pips thought quickly. Though she loved her family dearly and adored little Daisy, she had to make her own life and this was something she’d love to do. She craved excitement and racing at Brooklands, and perhaps even learning to fly too, would give her plenty of that.
But just how was she going to break the news to her family – especially her mother? Henrietta would be sure to disapprove.
To her surprise, it was Robert who questioned her plans.
‘It’s very dangerous, Pips. I know you’re a daredevil and you’re bored, but this is taking things a bit too far. I wish I’d never let you ride my motorcycle now or drive Father’s car in secret. And what on earth will Mother say?’
‘Amazingly, both she and Father seem philosophical about the idea. They like Milly. Who wouldn’t?’
Robert snorted. ‘No doubt Mother thinks you’ll meet a suitable young man mixing with the upper echelons of society.’
Pips laughed. ‘The only eligible bachelor so far is Mitch Hammond. You remember him.’
Robert rolled his eyes. ‘I do indeed. I wouldn’t tell her that, if I were you. She never took to that particular young man.’
‘I’ve no intention of telling her. And now, I’m going to find Daisy and take her to see her other grandparents. There was a letter from William waiting for me when I got back and I’ve promised to share his letters with Ma and Norah.’
‘Not Len?’ Robert said impishly, with a flash of his old humorous side, which was sadly missing most of the time these days.
‘Hardly,’ Pips said drily.
A few minutes later, Pips was picking up her niece and swinging her round, the little girl squealing with delight. ‘How’s my girl?’ She set her back on the ground. ‘I’m sure you’ve grown.’
‘’Gain, ’gain,’ Daisy pleaded, reaching up, so Pips dutifully obliged.
‘Now, we’re going to see Grandma Dawson.’
‘Cake?’
Pips laughed. ‘I don’t doubt that Grandma Dawson will have cake for you. Come along. Let’s go and find Mummy and see if she wants to come with us.’
Alice agreed readily. ‘Cook has packed a basket for them. She has your mother’s approval, of course.’
‘Oh Alice, you don’t need to explain. How are your family coping? Especially after the food shortages during the war.’
‘They’re fine. We were lucky in the country. The estate helped everyone around here and, as you know, my father grows his own vegetables too. All the villagers do, but I expect it was more difficult in the towns and cities. It’s getting better now, though.’ Compulsory rationing had been introduced in February 1918 and there had been queues in the towns and cities where some people were accused of hoarding. Meat rationing finished in December and the rationing of butter finished the following May. Alice pulled a face. ‘But sugar’s still rationed and the production of flour is still what they call “controlled”. Same thing, really, isn’t it?’
The two young women walked down the lane, with Daisy between them. Every now and again they swung her into the air.
‘I think she’s got your daredevil spirit, Pips. She scared us half to death last week. She went missing.’
‘What?’
Alice nodded. ‘She’d climbed up the steep stairs into the room above the gatehouse. It was Jake who thought to look there.’ Alice was referring to the young man who had once been a stable boy at the hall, but who now, since there were no horses, worked as a gardener and handyman. He still had his own living quarters above the stables.
‘I bet he misses the horses, doesn’t he?’
Alice nodded.
‘I don’t think Father – or Robert – have ever thought about replacing the ones that were commandeered during the war.’
‘No, only about buying a pony for Daisy when she’s old enough.’
‘What about Robert? Wouldn’t he like to ride again?’
Alice sighed. ‘He doesn’t seem to want to do anything much. I really thought after New Year that things were going to be better, but he’s sunk back into depression again.’
‘Still getting those awful black moods?’
‘’Fraid so.’ She paused. ‘He misses you whenever you’re away. He says there’s no one else who can beat him at chess.’
Pips chuckled. ‘Then I’ll give him a thrashing tonight. He’ll soon wish me gone again.’
Reaching the cottage, they were welcomed inside by the two women. Seated in the Dawsons’ kitchen, with Daisy playing with a box of bricks on the hearth, the four women exchanged the local gossip.
‘Peggy’s walking out with Sam Nuttall. Did you know?’ Ma said.
‘Do you mind?’ Pips asked carefully.
‘Not a bit,’ Ma said firmly. ‘Sam’s a fine lad and he’s very good with Luke.’
‘Clara’s not too happy,’ Norah said, referring to Sam’s mother. ‘She thinks her son can do better for himself than marry a girl with an illegitimate child.’
‘Oh phooey! He’ll make a great stepfather for Luke. Poor Peggy wasn’t the first and she certainly wasn’t the last before the war was over.’
Ma laughed wryly. ‘That’s exactly what I said when Peggy came to tell us and so did your mam, Miss Pips, if I remember rightly. And Harold was friends with Sam – all the lads in the village were good mates. He’d be pleased.’
‘What does Mr Dawson think?’
‘He’s all right about it. Thinks a lot of Sam, though he’s forever reminding him that the business will be Luke’s one day, not his.’
‘Anyway, one of the reasons we’ve come is because there was a letter from William waiting for me when I came home and you know I always share his letters with you. Where’s Luke?’
‘Safely up at the workshop,’ Norah said.
‘Here, Alice, you read it out to your mother and Ma. I think there’s something you’ll all be interested to hear.’
After news about himself and Brigitta and her grandparents and how they were slowly getting the land back to as near to normal as it would ever be, William had written:
Oh, and some other news that might interest you. Work is to be done on all the wartime cemeteries, starting with three to be used as sort of ‘test cases’. Architects have been appointed to design them. Forceville on the Somme is one. All the wartime wooden crosses are to be replaced with permanent white markers of Portland stone, made in Britain and brought out here. When finished, all the cemeteries will look magnificent – a fitting resting place for all our brave lads and so comforting for relatives when they visit. You’d be surprised how many families are already making the trip out here to find their loved ones. As I think you know, I have already volunteered to help care for the local cemeteries, Lijssenthoek, of course, and Brandhoek. We had to bury so many there, didn’t we? I shall feel I am still helping to care for them . . .
Alice wiped tears from her eyes as she handed the letter to her mother to see William’s
words for herself. ‘My brother is a good man. I only wish Dad would recognize it.’
‘He sounds happy,’ Norah said wistfully. ‘Please give him our love when you write back to him.’
‘Why don’t you write to him, Mam? We could send it with ours.’
Norah shook her head. ‘I daren’t,’ she whispered. ‘If your father were to find out . . .’ She glanced down at the letter once more, as if committing her son’s words to memory.
William had ended, as always, by sending loving messages to his mother, grandmother and sister, even though he wrote to Alice regularly too.
But there was never a word about his father.
Thirteen
As they sat together that evening over the chessboard, Robert asked, ‘What’s the mood like in London, Pips?’
‘It’s frenetic. Everyone’s trying so desperately to forget the war and have a good time and yet, for the workers, the unemployment situation is getting worse. As more and more men are demobbed, there’ll be less and less work for them, even when they have got rid of all the women who did war work in the men’s absence.’
‘A lot of them won’t like that. The women, I mean. They had a taste of independence. Mother was only saying yesterday that a lot of girls won’t go back into service now. We were lucky; our staff stayed and are still with us. Even Jake, who wasn’t old enough to be called up before the war ended.’
‘And did he ever get handed a white feather?’
Robert laughed. ‘Heavens no. He’s far too small. He only looks about fifteen now.’
‘He’s never known his real age, has he?’
‘No, and I don’t suppose he will ever find out now. He seems to know the year, but not the actual date. All he knows is that he’s twenty some time this year. Mother’s already decided that next year, when he’ll be twenty-one, we shall have a celebration for him on or very near Midsummer Day.’
‘What a lovely idea. I’ll try to be here for that.’
‘Check mate!’ Robert said suddenly with a wide grin. ‘You’re not concentrating, Pips.’
‘Yes, I was. You’ve beaten me fair and square. I think you’ve been practising whilst I’ve been away.’
‘And you’re really determined to go back to London, are you?’
Pips wriggled her shoulders. ‘Robert, there’s nothing for me to do here.’
‘There’s Daisy,’ Robert said craftily.
‘Yes, there is. But she’s your child. Yours and Alice’s. I’d be in danger of monopolizing her, if I stay.’
‘I don’t think either of us would mind. Alice would be glad of the help.’
‘I’ll come home very often, I promise.’
‘So, are you coming to see this car with me?’ Mitch said, visiting the apartment in July when he’d heard that Pips was back in London and had now moved in with Milly.
‘Of course I’ll come, but if I do buy it, where will I keep it?’
‘At Brooklands, of course. You’ll rent a garage. It’s where Paul keeps his cars. And so do I.’
Pips laughed. ‘Cars! How many has he got? How many have you got?’
Mitch grinned. ‘I’ve only got the one racing car, but Paul had three at the last count plus the one he calls his run-about; the one he uses for ordinary travel. I’ve asked him to go with us to look at this car for you. Hope you don’t mind? He’s a whiz with anything mechanical.’
‘So was William,’ Pips murmured. ‘How he would love to look after a racing car.’
The four of them set out at the weekend to visit Mitch’s friend.
The car was standing in the yard outside the farmhouse. When they pulled in beside it, Michael appeared and shook hands with them all. Pips inspected it closely. It was a silver-coloured 1912 Sunbeam – the same make that Paul drove.
‘They’re good cars,’ Mitch said. ‘As long as you don’t think it’s too big for you to handle.’
‘Oh dahling! Don’t say that to Pips. That’s tantamount to a dare. And you know what she’s like . . .’
But Pips only grinned. ‘We’ll soon see, won’t we?’ She glanced at Michael. ‘May I take it for a run?’
‘Of course, but just don’t go too fast. You’ll frighten the labourers in the fields. And you must be sure to keep on our land. She’s not allowed on the public roads.’
Mitch laughed. ‘Aren’t they used to you and your cars by now?’
Michael shook his head. ‘The men who work for my father are, of course. We’re fairly remote so when I’m repairing and testing cars, the noise doesn’t reach the neighbours. At least, I hope it doesn’t. Haven’t had any complaints yet. Well, not many,’ he added with a wide grin. ‘You drive it first, Pips, seeing as it’s you who wants to buy it, but then I should let Paul drive it too. He’ll get a feel for how she handles.’
Pips drove, rather sedately, down the lanes around the farm and arrived back full of enthusiasm.
‘It’s marvellous,’ Pips said climbing out, when she returned to the farmyard.
‘You take her, Paul,’ Mitch said. ‘You’re more of a mechanic than I am, though I wouldn’t mind a spin when you come back.’
After both men had driven the vehicle, they, too, were enthusiastic.
‘Don’t you think it’s great?’ Pips asked them.
Michael laughed. ‘A car is always “she” to us.’
‘And why is that?’ Pips said, adding warningly, ‘And be very careful how you answer.’
‘I wouldn’t get into that discussion, if I were you, Michael,’ Mitch laughed.
Michael stroked his chin, deliberating. ‘Because we love them and spend a lot of time and money on them. That do?’
Pips nodded. ‘Reasonable. I’m glad you didn’t say because they’re temperamental.’
Michael spread his hands. ‘Now, would I dare say something like that?’
‘Not if you want to sell me this car.’ Pips did a quick calculation in her head. Each member of the Maitland family received an annual income from the estate, and all through the war years, the money in Pips’s savings account had increased very nicely. Now she could afford to buy herself a car. The deal was struck and they shook hands.
‘And now you need to rent a garage at the track,’ Paul said. ‘I’ll act as your mechanic to start with, if you like, but, like I said, you can’t drive this on public roads.’
‘Yes, though, it’s a shame. It would have been nice to have been able to take it home to give Daisy a ride.’
After several practice runs on the Brooklands circuit, Muriel declared that Pips was ready to enter a race. ‘We’ll enter you for the race at the end of September. Paul’s organized a ladies-only race.’
The next few weeks had passed in a blur as Pips practised regularly. As she lined up at the start, her heart was pounding, her head buzzing with all the advice from Mitch, Muriel and Paul. She touched the poppy brooch she always wore. Today, it was pinned to the left shoulder of her driving suit. It was her talisman. She got a reasonable start and was happy to tootle round at her own speed in fourth place, being careful to keep to a sensible racing line. Two cars passed her, but in this, her first race, she didn’t let it worry her. It was better to get the feel of the track. Even if she came last this time, at least she’d taken part. But as her confidence grew, she increased her speed and passed the driver in front of her. Now, she was in fifth place. Another lap and she was back in fourth. Well, it wouldn’t be too bad, she told herself, if she could finish where she’d started, but it would be nice to gain just one more place . . . She felt the power of the car beneath her and gently pressed her foot on the accelerator. The car leapt forward and she flew past the next car. Now, however, she was running out of laps and the car in front of her was several seconds ahead.
The race finished with Pips in third place. Her friends surrounded the car as she drew to a halt.
‘I say, old thing, that was some drive.’
‘Darling, you were wonderful.’
‘Third place in your first race
.’ Muriel was smiling. ‘You’ll actually get a prize. I can see we’ve got some real competition now. You’ve certainly proved yourself worthy of being one of the Brooklands Girls.’
‘Your engine sounded a bit rough on the last lap,’ Paul said. ‘I’ll take a look at it for you. Although, Mitch was talking about a friend of yours, who’s a good mechanic. Perhaps you’d prefer him to look after it for you.’
Pips heaved herself out of the car. ‘He used to work for us and he came with us to Belgium at the start of the war as a stretcher bearer, but he stayed there. He married a Belgian nurse. So, I still want you to look after my car for me, please. You must let me know how much I owe you.’
Paul waved her offer aside. ‘No charge – it’ll be my pleasure.’
‘He does the same for me,’ Mitch said and then tapped the side of his nose. ‘But a bottle of whisky won’t come amiss now and again.’
Pips laughed. ‘You’re on.’ Then she sobered as she asked, ‘I saw one of the cars up against the iron fencing on the Railway Straight. Who was it? Was she hurt?’
The two men glanced at each other. ‘We hear she’s all right. Her tyres lost tread during the race.’
‘The front of her car’s a mess, though. That’ll take a bit of putting right.’
‘Come on, darling. Let’s get you to where the presentations are made. I can’t wait to see you get your prize.’
The crowd clustered around the presentation area and when Pips stepped up beside the two women who had come in first and second place, a cheer from the crowd went up. She shook hands with them and was relieved and delighted when they congratulated her with genuine warmth; she had expected animosity but as Muriel had explained to her, although there was keen rivalry on the track, once the race was over, they were all friends again, united in their love of the sport.
When the presentations had taken place and the three women had stepped down, a tall fair-haired man was standing beside Mitch.
‘You’re one of Muriel’s protégées, aren’t you?’ he said to Pips, as he gripped her hand firmly. ‘And it’s your first race, isn’t it? Well done. We’ll have to watch our backs, won’t we, Mitch? My name’s Jeff Pointer, by the way, and you’ve just beaten my sister, who was in fourth place.’ But he was laughing as he added, ‘I work for Mitch. I’m a pilot at his flying school. Would you join us for a celebratory drink?’ He was tall and thin, with bright ginger hair and a face covered with freckles. His eyes twinkled merrily at her.
The Brooklands Girls Page 9