The Brooklands Girls

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The Brooklands Girls Page 20

by Margaret Dickinson


  Afterwards, they lay in each other’s arms. ‘I was thinking,’ Pips murmured. ‘If it’s not a problem, we could go away for New Year. To Brighton, maybe.’

  ‘Perfect. As long as we can book in somewhere.’

  ‘Oh, Milly will know someone with a hotel there. I’m sure she’d get us a room.’

  ‘Is there anyone Milly doesn’t know?’

  Pips giggled. ‘Not many people.’

  ‘Right, see what you can do. And now, I’m taking you to lunch at Claridge’s.’

  Their time together in Brighton – just the two of them – was idyllic. Pips couldn’t remember a time when she had felt so at peace. Although she loved the thrill of racing and of flying, it was nice to be away from it just for a little while, to be with the man she loved; to walk hand in hand, to dine together and to make love. They walked on the wintry beach, well wrapped up against the wind, and dined together by candlelight in the evening.

  On their last night, George ordered a bottle of champagne, which they took to their room to toast each other in privacy.

  As George took her in his arms, he murmured against her lips, ‘This has been a wonderful few days, my darling. Marry me, Pips, please.’

  ‘I will, George, I promise I will.’

  But she dared not voice the question that was uppermost in her mind. What about Rebecca?

  Twenty-Nine

  During 1923, unrest rumbled on in Europe and the German financial situation was described as ‘most desperate’. And at home, the Government was unsettled too. In May, following the resignation of the Prime Minister for health reasons, the Tories chose Stanley Baldwin to take his place, though there was not unanimous agreement in the party on the choice. But for the Brooklands Girls and all their friends the most important event was the Le Mans twenty-four-hour race and all the latest technology in racing cars on show there. Those who could not attend devoured the press for details. And, of course, for Milly and her circle, a new dance craze swept through the dance halls and nightclubs from America: the Charleston. The more fashionable women bobbed their hair. Even Pips, to her mother’s horror, had her lovely auburn hair cut short, and she began to wear the straight lines of ‘Coco’ Chanel’s fashions.

  ‘Those clothes suit you so well and your hair looks divine, darling,’ was Milly’s pronouncement.

  ‘I’m not sure George likes the new style,’ Pips said. ‘But he has bought me a bottle of Chanel Number Five.’

  ‘Well, Mitch likes your new style, he told me so, but some men do like their girlfriends to have lovely long flowing hair. Now, tonight we’re all at Lady B’s. She has a huge house in Belgrave Square and just loves giving parties. Is George coming?’

  ‘Yes, he’ll be here just before eight to escort us both.’

  ‘Wonderful! And I’ve got a new dress I’m positively dying to wear. But first, I’m going to teach you the Charleston. Push back the furniture, Pips, and let’s have a go . . .’

  Pips picked up the steps quickly and was soon swivelling alongside Milly.

  ‘Now, we just have to teach everyone else.’

  ‘I just hope you’re not going to have us all doing this new craze in America. “Dance till you drop”, they’re calling it. One couple, the papers said, were dancing for forty-five hours.’

  Milly’s eyes twinkled. ‘Now would I, darling?’

  Lady Beatrice’s drawing room was crammed with young people still determined – even after almost five years – to forget the horrors of the war and yet it was impossible. Several young men still bore obvious scars; a lost limb or facial injuries, whilst others fought valiantly to push away the dreadful memories from wounded minds. This evening their hostess had hired a trio so the music was loud, but the forced laughter was even louder.

  ‘Have you heard about the new music from America and the dance crazes?’ Jeff shouted in Pips’s ear.

  ‘Yes, Milly’s going to have everyone trying the Charleston tonight.’

  Jeff pulled a face. ‘Reckon I’ll give that one a miss.’

  Pips laughed. ‘You won’t be allowed to.’

  Sure enough, when Milly organized the furniture to be moved back to the walls and a space created in the centre of the large room, no one was allowed to sit on the sidelines. She and Paul demonstrated the Charleston – swivelling their feet and flapping their arms in a dance so crazy it had the whole room in stitches.

  Mitch weaved his way to Pips’s side. ‘Come on, we’ve got to try this.’

  Soon everyone was dancing, even Jeff. Only George looked on.

  ‘Not quite your thing, major?’ Lady Beatrice said as she came to stand beside him and hand him another glass of champagne.

  ‘Sadly, no.’

  ‘A war wound.’

  ‘No – no.’ He hesitated and then was forced to admit, ‘I can’t actually dance this sort of thing. The odd sedate waltz, maybe . . .’ He shook his head. ‘But this is quite beyond me.’

  ‘Me too,’ Lady Beatrice chuckled, ‘but the young ones love it.’

  George said nothing. Unwittingly, Lady Beatrice had pointed out the age difference between himself and Pips. He watched – not without a little envy – as Pips swivelled and kicked her legs to the lively tunes. But when Mitch picked her up and threw her around him, George turned and left the room.

  ‘We must do this again,’ they all agreed as, in the early hours of the morning, they tottered home on aching feet.

  ‘Next time we’ll go to a nightclub where they’ll have a full band and lots more room for the new dance. It’s such fun,’ Milly said as she kissed everyone goodbye. ‘How about next week?’

  ‘I’m going home next week,’ Pips said firmly.

  Milly’s eyes widened. ‘But you will come back? Promise? I’m always worried when you go home to Daisy that one of these times, you won’t come back.’

  Pips laughed. ‘Yes, yes, I promise.’

  ‘Then I’ll put it off until you do,’ Milly said, wagging her finger at Pips.

  The promised visit to the Grafton Galleries took place three days after Pips came back from Lincolnshire. The Brooklands gang were all there – only George was missing.

  ‘He went home with me, but he’s had to go on to Yorkshire. The tenant in his house gave notice and he’s gone to check the place out and set about finding a new one.’

  ‘Oh dear, what a shame. Never mind, we’ll still have fun.’

  When they all paused for breath, Mitch, who had danced with Pips for most of the night, drew her apart from the rest into a quiet corner. ‘Wait here, I’ll get us a drink. Mind you, it’s probably time for breakfast. It’s nearly four o’clock.’

  ‘Milly’s got all that organized, if you’re up for it.’

  Mitch grinned. ‘Ever known me to say “no”?’

  When he returned, they sat down together. ‘I’m going flying tomorrow afternoon,’ he said. ‘Well, today now. Are you coming?’

  ‘Oh yes, please. Any chance to fly and I’ll be there.’

  ‘What would George say?’

  ‘George wouldn’t say anything,’ Pips said a little sharply. ‘I’m my own woman.’

  Quietly, Mitch smiled into his beer.

  In June, whilst Pips was at home on a fleeting visit, Alice received an ecstatic letter from William telling them that Brigitta had given birth to another baby boy.

  Both are doing well, wrote the happy father. He is just like Pascal when he was born and, luckily, they both take after their mother with fair hair and blue eyes. He is to be called Waldo.

  ‘We’ll go and tell Mam and Ma,’ Alice said. ‘Please come with me, Pips. We’ll go before the children come home from school. Dad will be safely at his workshop.’

  They walked down the lane, arm in arm. They’d always been friends, even when Alice had been a lady’s maid. But now, as sisters-in-law, they were even closer.

  As if thinking about those earlier times, Alice said, ‘Did you know your mother has asked Betty Cooper to be her lady’s maid? And yours,
whenever you’re at home.’ She hesitated before adding, with a little embarrassment, ‘And mine too.’

  ‘That’s a good idea. I don’t think poor Betty is even thinking about marriage, do you?’

  ‘No. She was so in love with Roy, she won’t even look at another feller.’ Alice pulled a face. ‘Not that there are many eligible bachelors about.’

  Pips was quiet for a moment before asking, with deliberate casualness, ‘Are you happy with that arrangement?’

  Alice laughed self-consciously. ‘I suppose so, but I find it difficult to have her waiting on me. I still think it should be my job to attend your mother.’

  Pips pressed her arm. ‘Well, don’t. You’ve done remarkably well since marrying Robert to get all your former workmates on your side. Not one of them has an ounce of resentment against you and that’s all down to your sweet nature, so let’s hear no more of you feeling awkward about your position now. I can’t ever imagine you being a domineering mistress.’

  ‘I follow your mother’s example. Her manner with her staff is exemplary and they all love her. As do I.’

  Pips chuckled. ‘As your mistress or as your mother-in-law?’

  ‘Both, I suppose, but probably more as my mother-in-law now. She’s been extremely kind to me.’

  ‘I know she’s very fond of you too. And I have to give her credit for admitting she was wrong to be against you and Robert marrying. She now says you’re the perfect wife for him.’

  Alice blushed. ‘That’s good to know. Thank you, Pips.’

  They arrived at the cottage to find Ma in her usual spot, soaking up the sunshine. ‘It helps my aches and pains,’ she said getting up stiffly. ‘But I’m guessing you’ve brought us some news from across the water. Come in, come in. Norah’s busy baking.’

  They followed the old lady into the cottage, noticing that her movements were slower these days.

  ‘Norah, duck. Alice and Miss Pips have news for us.’

  Norah looked up, her hands still deep in a bowl of dough she was kneading. ‘Give me a minute. I can let this prove now.’ She set the bowl on the hearth, washed her hands and sat down. Her eyes were bright and her smile wide. ‘Is it news of the little one?’

  ‘Here.’ Alice handed the letter to her mother, but Norah shook her head. ‘No, you read it out to us, Alice, then we’ll both hear it together.’

  When Alice had finished reading, Norah was wiping tears of joy from her eyes. ‘How wonderful. Another little boy. Another grandson. We’ve got three now. Four, if you count Harry, and we always treat him just the same as we treat Luke. And a granddaughter. We’re very lucky.’ Her expression sobered. ‘If only Len would . . .’

  ‘That’ll never happen, duck,’ Ma said. ‘He’s a foolish, stubborn man and I dun’t reckon he’ll ever change. It’d take a miracle.’

  Thirty

  The proposed marriage between Pips and George kept getting put back further and further, much to Henrietta’s dismay.

  ‘Are you officially engaged or not?’

  Pips shrugged. ‘Well, yes, we are, but it’s complicated, Mother.’

  ‘I don’t see why. I blame you, Philippa. You’re so busy dancing the night away, racing and flying, that you don’t want to settle down and be a good wife to a lovely man. You’ll lose him, if you’re not careful, and then I will be very angry. You won’t get many more opportunities like Major Allender and there are plenty of spinsters just waiting to snap him up from under your nose.’

  ‘You’re right in what you say, Mother,’ Pips agreed honestly. ‘But there’s a little more to it than that.’

  ‘Then tell me.’

  ‘His daughter is causing problems for him.’

  Henrietta frowned. ‘Rebecca?’

  ‘Yes. She doesn’t want her father to marry anyone – and certainly not me.’

  ‘She’s a nurse, isn’t she? I’d have thought she’d have had more sense.’

  ‘Whatever do you mean, Mother? Why should she feel differently about her father marrying again just because she’s a nurse?’

  Henrietta wriggled her shoulders and avoided meeting Pips’s gaze. ‘Well – I’d have thought she’d have realized that men have . . .’ She was embarrassed. Women of her generation just didn’t talk about such matters. ‘Needs. And they need a woman to take care of them too. I mean, without sounding conceited, what would your dear father do without me?’

  Pips hid her smile as her mother sighed and went on, ‘It’s a pity. It must put the poor man into a dilemma. I just want to see you happily settled, Philippa. That’s all I worry about. Who will look after you when we’re gone? You can’t rely on your poor brother for ever, you know.’

  A sharp retort that she was quite capable of looking after herself sprang to her lips, but Pips bit back her impatience. She put her arm around her mother’s shoulders. ‘George loves me. I know that. And I love him and I’m sure that one day, we will be married. We just need a bit of time to readjust after what we’ve both been through. Don’t forget, too, that he lost his wife in tragic circumstances and it doesn’t sound as if it was a happy marriage anyway. He needs time to sort things out with Rebecca and the last thing I want is for him to be estranged from his daughter. Besides, as you rightly say, I’m enjoying my life far too much at present to settle down.’

  Henrietta had the grace to chuckle. ‘I just hope he’s prepared for the fact that you will probably never “settle down”.’

  ‘Oh he is. Believe me, he is.’

  Mentally, Pips crossed her fingers and hoped that what she was telling her mother was true. Although George had promised her as much, she wondered if it was a pledge he would be able to keep.

  Towards the end of November, when Pips went home for the children’s birthdays again, Robert asked her, ‘Do you still follow world affairs?’

  She was delighted to see that since he had returned to the practice alongside his father, Robert was much better. Although his black moods still occurred, they were less frequent.

  Pips pulled a face. ‘Not so much. It doesn’t make for pleasant reading most of the time. Though I am still interested in what’s happening here.’ She laughed. ‘Milly’s granny and I have some lively political discussions whenever I go to the manor. You’d love her, Robert. Why do you ask?’

  ‘Do you remember Field Marshal Eric von Ludendorff?’

  ‘Indeed I do. I think he was the general who planned the attack along the River Marne in the last year of the war, wasn’t he?’ She smiled. ‘It’s where George was promoted to major, so he told me.’

  ‘It was a last-ditch effort on the Germans’ part, I think.’

  ‘So, what’s he been up to now?’

  ‘There’s an ambitious corporal who served in the war and who is the leader of an extreme national party, known here as the Nazis. A couple of weeks ago he attempted to seize power by inciting a revolution in Munich and claiming he had the support of Ludendorff.’

  ‘Did he? Have his support, I mean.’

  ‘It seems so. Various other supporters gave up the idea, but Ludendorff thought he was powerful enough for a march through the city to lead to success. But outside the royal palace the police were waiting. Someone fired a shot killing a policeman and after that, I think it was mayhem. The corporal fled and went into hiding and Ludendorff is now under house arrest.’

  ‘And the corporal? What happened to him?’

  ‘He was found and it’s thought he’ll be sent to prison, so I don’t think there’ll be any more trouble from him.’

  ‘Let’s hope not. What was his name?’

  ‘Adolf Hitler.’

  In January, when Pips had returned to London, Milly said, ‘We’re invited to the manor for the weekend on the twenty-fifth for a belated New Year celebration. Mummy said you can bring George if you want to. Paul’s coming.’ She giggled as she added, ‘Though I’m afraid it will be separate bedrooms.’

  Pips smiled. ‘Of course. It always is when we go up to Lincolnshire. I wouldn’t expec
t anything else and neither would George. We must respect the older generation’s sensitivities.’

  ‘Do you think they guess, but just don’t say anything?’

  Pips wrinkled her forehead. ‘I expect Robert and Alice do, but I don’t think such a thought would enter my mother’s head.’ She laughed. ‘Well, I hope not anyway, though I can never be sure.’

  ‘Your skirt is rather short, Millicent,’ was Granny Fortesque’s greeting.

  ‘It’s the latest fashion, Granny. Calf length.’

  Eleanor cast her eyes to the ceiling in a gesture so much like Henrietta’s that Pips found it difficult to hide her laughter.

  ‘Let’s just hope it doesn’t get any shorter,’ Eleanor said primly.

  Later, Milly said, ‘You’d better go home next time in some of your older dresses, Pips darling. I’m sure your mother will think some of your latest purchases will be far too short.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Milly. I’ve already thought of that.’

  Dinner at the manor that evening was a merry affair, with everyone pretending it was New Year’s Eve and raising a glass to 1924 even though the first month of the year was almost over.

  ‘So, what are your thoughts on this first Labour government we’ve got?’ Henry said, glancing at George and Paul, but it was Pips who spoke up at once. ‘As long as they stick to their policies and do something about unemployment and the housing problem, then I’d be all for it.’

  ‘You do realize, Philippa,’ Eleanor said, looking at her over the top of her spectacles, ‘that eleven out of the twenty cabinet members are of working-class origin.’

  Before Pips could reply, George said, ‘I think they’re going to have to ease themselves into the role gradually. Ramsay MacDonald himself has said that, being a minority government, he is in office, but not in real power. I doubt, despite their altruistic motives, that there’ll be a social revolution overnight.’

  ‘Thank goodness for that,’ Eleanor declared. She glared at Pips. ‘Did you vote this time, Philippa?’

 

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