‘Sadly, no. I would have done, but I’m not thirty until later in the year.’
‘And what would you have voted?’
‘Mama,’ Henry said, mildly. ‘We never ask anyone their politics or their religion.’
‘It’s all right, Mr Fortesque. I don’t mind.’ Pips faced Eleanor boldly. ‘This time, I would have voted Tory, but next time – when I will be able to vote – I shall consider it very carefully. It rather depends on how the Labour Party performs whilst in office. I just think that there should be a fairer society and that’s what they say they’re aiming for. After all, if the working class are good enough to lay down their lives for their country, then they should be allowed to have a say in how their country is run. Don’t you think?’
‘But are they educated well enough to have a properly considered and balanced opinion?’
‘If they’re not,’ Pips shot back, ‘then that is the country’s fault for not educating them.’
‘Mm.’ Eleanor appeared to be pondering and then she added sadly, ‘Of course, the cream of the middle and upper classes of a generation – the ones who would be the next leaders of our country – were taken in the war. Is that not so, Major Allender?’
‘The officers led from the front, which is as it should be, but of course, because they did . . .’ He spread his hands and said no more, but his meaning was obvious.
After the meal when the ladies retired to the drawing room, Eleanor said, ‘Now, no more talk of politics. Come and sit by me, Philippa, and tell me all about this nice young man you’ve brought with you. That’s far more important.’
So Pips told her how and where she and George had met and even about his wife and daughter.
‘Poor man,’ Eleanor murmured sympathetically. ‘But I can see he’s very much in love with you, my dear, so don’t keep him waiting too long, will you? He’s not getting any younger.’ She eyed Pips archly. ‘And neither are you, if you want to have children. Do your parents approve of him? There’s not an obstacle there, is there?’
‘No, all the family love him, it’s just . . .’
‘You don’t,’ Eleanor said bluntly.
‘Oh I do, I do.’ She sighed. ‘But I don’t want there to be an estrangement between him and his daughter. I think it would cause trouble between us – eventually.’
‘Mm, it is a dilemma for you, I have to admit. They always say that you don’t marry a person’s family, but I’m afraid that’s not true. Of course you do.’ She patted Pips’s hand. ‘I hope it works out for you, my dear.’ Then she nodded across the room towards Milly. ‘And that’s another relationship I can’t quite work out. Are Milly and Paul a couple, or not?’
Pips smiled. ‘I can’t tell you that, Granny Fortesque.’
‘Can’t – or won’t?’
Honesty was the best policy with a formidable woman like Milly’s grandmother.
‘A little bit of both.’
‘And that will have to do me, will it?’
‘I’m afraid so.’
Eleanor chuckled. ‘I like you, Philippa Maitland. Even though I might not always agree with you, there aren’t many people who dare stand up to me and life can get a little boring without a challenge sometimes. I enjoy a healthy debate. Do come again very soon, won’t you?’
‘I most certainly will.’
Henry Fortesque kept a stable of three horses, so, whilst Milly didn’t ride, the following morning, Pips, George and Paul took them for a gallop.
‘You’d better have this one, miss,’ the stable boy, Merryfield, said. ‘Neptune there is a handful. He’s the master’s horse. The major should perhaps take him.’
The bay horse in question stood seventeen hands and, although a different colour, still reminded Pips sharply of Midnight. It was the look in his eye and Pips caught a glimpse of his spirit. ‘I’ll be fine,’ she told him, stroking the horse’s nose and offering him a carrot. ‘And I promise you will not be held responsible if I take a tumble.’
But beneath Pips’s practised hands, the horse behaved impeccably, although when Henry heard which mount she had ridden, he was horrified. ‘Merryfield shouldn’t have given you Neptune. I must have words with him.’
‘Please don’t, Mr Fortesque. He did try to stop me, but I insisted and told him I would take full responsibility. George and Paul were there. They’ll tell you.’
‘And did he behave? The horse, I mean?’
‘Perfectly. I could tell he likes a good gallop. And, as you know, I like speed.’
‘I’m glad I wasn’t there to see it,’ Henry said. ‘I think you would have given me a heart attack.’ But he was smiling as he said it. The whole family had taken to this daring and independent young woman and he had warmed to her for the way she had defended his daughter. Even he had been unaware of the bravery Milly had shown during the war, but he was glad to know now. And that was thanks to Pips. ‘Well, as long as you’re sure you’re safe on him, please feel free to ride him any time you wish. You can probably let him have a freer rein than even I dare to do nowadays.’
‘Thank you, Mr Fortesque,’ Pips grinned, ‘I’ll hold you to that.’
Thirty-One
During the year there were two fatal accidents at Brooklands.
‘However did that happen?’ Henrietta asked worriedly when Pips went home at the end of September. ‘I hadn’t realized it was quite so dangerous, Philippa. You have to stop.’
‘Normally, Mother, it isn’t so bad. When you think just how many cars race there in a year, accidents aren’t that frequent. In the most recent accident, the driver was trying for a new land-speed record.’
‘And the earlier one that happened at Whitsun?’
‘I – er – I’m not sure.’
Henrietta eyed her suspiciously. ‘You were never a good liar, Philippa. Even as a child, when you’d done something wrong, you could never lie about it. And Daisy’s just the same. Even when she knows she’s going to be in trouble, she always tells the truth. I think you do know only too well, but you don’t want to tell me. No matter. Racing is a dangerous game. I’m not stupid.’ There was a heavy silence between them before Henrietta added, ‘So, are you going to stop?’
‘No, Mother, but I will promise you I’ll be more careful.’
‘I’m not sure how you can be “careful” when you’re tearing round a racetrack.’ Henrietta sighed heavily and turned away. She was not the only one to be concerned. Robert tried to talk Pips into giving up racing and he was brave enough to say, ‘We all love you, Pips, and Daisy would be heartbroken if anything happened to you. Think about her, won’t you?’
Pips winced. ‘That’s a low blow, Robert.’
He grinned, unfazed by her retort. ‘I’ll try anything to keep you safe.’
When she returned to London even George broached the subject. ‘I know I said I’d never try to stop you doing what you want, but please, Pips, think carefully. I couldn’t bear to lose you and all your family would be devastated.’
A rather cruel retort sprang to her lips – ‘Rebecca wouldn’t be’ – but she bit it back and forced a smile. ‘Not you too. I’ve had them all at home telling me I ought to stop. But I’m sorry, I can’t. Not yet.’
The other racing enthusiasts, especially the Brooklands Girls, were in agreement with Mitch, who said, ‘You need to get straight into another race and drive like the wind.’
At the next meeting, Muriel squeezed Pips’s arm and said, ‘I see you’re entered in the next race. Good for you, gal.’
Pips smiled. ‘I am quite aware of the dangers, but even crossing a road in London is getting quite precarious now.’
Muriel laughed loudly. ‘And it’ll get worse. The motor car is the future, Pips. Now, time we were heading to the start line.’
With her family’s warnings still in her mind, Pips drove a little more cautiously than usual and finished in sixth place, but it seemed to her that everyone had been a little slower. Perhaps they were all thinking about the men who had lo
st their lives on this very track earlier that year.
On her next visit to Fortesque Manor at the beginning of November, she braced herself for more disapproval from Milly’s family too, but, to her surprise, it was not forthcoming. Instead, the talk around the dinner table was of the recent election when the Tories had swept to a huge victory.
‘Ramsay MacDonald didn’t last long, then, did he, Philippa?’ Eleanor said. ‘It was rather foolish of him to run the gauntlet of a vote of confidence over the Campbell Case, don’t you think?’
Pips frowned. ‘I’m not sure what that was all about.’
‘Tut-tut,’ Eleanor teased. ‘And there I was, thinking you were a modern young woman who kept up with all the day’s news and politics. In a nutshell, my dear, charges were brought against a communist newspaper, edited by Campbell, for alleged “incitement to mutiny” by publishing a letter addressed to the military. Unfortunately, Ramsay MacDonald suspended the prosecution of the case, which brought down his Labour government after only nine months in office.’
‘But wasn’t there something underhand going on just before the election itself? I’ve been reading about this Zinoviev letter addressed to British communists encouraging a revolution.’
Eleanor waved her elegant hand. ‘Oh, that’s now thought to have been a hoax.’
‘But it was enough for the country to turn against the Labour Party and return the Tories to power. It all seems to me like a ploy and an underhand ploy at that.’
‘Well, I’m sure your Labour Party will come to power one day.’ Eleanor was smiling, but there was a hint of sarcasm in her tone.
A small smile quirked the corners of Pips’s mouth as she replied in the same tone, ‘I’m sure they will.’
Throughout the following year, Pips kept in touch with the national and international news. At home, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, Winston Churchill, returned Britain to the gold standard as proof, he said, of the country’s post-war recovery. Sixpence was taken off the standard rate of income tax and a new national insurance scheme was introduced with the State pension age reduced to sixty-five. Abroad, Leon Trotsky was ousted from the leadership of the Soviet Communist Party, primarily by moves by Joseph Stalin; in Italy, Benito Mussolini, who had declared himself the leader of the National Fascist Party, showed an iron fist against the opponents of Fascism and in Germany, a new name came to the fore – Adolf Hitler.
‘Wasn’t he that little corporal connected with Ludendorff in some sort of uprising in November 1923?’ Pips said to Robert when she was on a visit home.
His mouth was tight. ‘The very same.’
‘So it looks as if a term in prison didn’t have the desired effect.’
‘Sadly, no. His sentence turned out to be a joke. No more than a slap on the wrist and not a very hard one at that.’
But Pips’s main focus was on her racing and her flying and, of course, on George. They met often, spent several nights each month together and were always made welcome at Fortesque Manor or at Doddington Hall, though, of course, it continued to be separate bedrooms at both places.
Much to Eleanor’s disgust, Milly shortened her skirt to just below the knees.
‘Have you no control over your daughter, Victoria?’
‘Not really, Mother,’ Milly’s mother replied airily and promptly shortened her own skirts.
Daisy delighted her family as much as ever and whenever Pips was at home, the young girl monopolized her aunt’s time and attention. And often, Luke, and now three-year-old Harry too, came along. Pips took the three youngsters riding, fishing or just playing games in the grounds of the hall. On cold days there were raucous games in the Great Hall and even, if Henrietta could be persuaded to turn a blind eye, games of hide and seek throughout the big house.
‘I really must buy a different car,’ Pips told Mitch. ‘One that I can race but also drive up to Lincolnshire in.’
‘Daisy still pestering to be taken out for drives, is she?’
‘Yes – every time I go home.’
‘Well, there is one that Michael has for sale. Like to come and see it? I’ll take you, if you like.’
‘Oh, yes please. When?’
‘Tomorrow afternoon all right?’
‘Perfect. George is busy tomorrow.’
It was indeed perfect, then, Mitch thought with an inward smile.
Pips stood in front of the blue Bugatti and fell in love with it.
‘It’s got headlights and a licence plate,’ Michael said, ‘so there is no problem about you driving it anywhere you want to go. And she’ll do ninety miles an hour.’
‘And it’s a two-seater,’ Pips murmured. ‘Just what I’m looking for.’
‘Take it out for a run.’
With Mitch beside her, Pips drove the car through the lanes near the farm. She didn’t ‘open her up’, but she could feel the power.
‘So?’ Michael raised his eyebrows when they returned to the farm.
‘Providing you can sell mine for me, I’ll take it.’
Michael held out his hand. ‘Done.’
The following weekend, Pips drove to Lincolnshire. She arrived just as Daisy was walking up the drive, home from school. As the young girl turned and saw who was driving through the gate, her mouth dropped open. ‘Aunty Pips! You’ve got a new car and it’s got two seats . . .’
Pips drew to a halt. ‘Jump in!’
Daisy did not need telling twice.
‘Can we take Luke out too?’
‘Of course. We’ll go this minute.’
With the children squeezed into the passenger’s seat, laughing and shouting with delight, Pips drove through the lanes, scattering hens and chickens, dogs and cats. As they left Luke outside the cottage where he lived, Pips promised, ‘I’ll take you out again tomorrow before I go back to London. And I must take Harry too.’
Daisy and Luke grimaced at each other and then laughed. ‘If you must, Aunty Pips.’
Much to the disgust of the older generation, especially the women, the Charleston became even more popular and skirts were shortened to the knees to give the dancers more freedom of movement; and movement there certainly was! Now, it was the favourite dance of all classes of society. There were no barriers when it came to enjoyment.
But there was growing social unrest that even the Bright Young Things – the name given to the wild partygoers – could no longer ignore.
In March 1926, the Miners’ Federation refused to accept the recommendations that their pay should be cut and the working day lengthened. The phrase ‘Not a penny off the pay, not a minute on the day’ became a popular slogan.
On visits home and to Fortesque Manor, Pips discussed the situation with her father and brother and also now with Henry Fortesque and his mother.
‘The problem started last year,’ Henry told her. ‘The mines were under the control of the Government during the war, but went back into private ownership afterwards. In June last year the mine owners said they were going to cut wages and lengthen the working day.’
‘Yes, I remember reading about that. Didn’t the Government cave in and offer a subsidy to maintain the status quo for a few months?’
‘Governments, my dear Philippa,’ Eleanor said, ‘do not “cave in”; they negotiate – or pass a law.’
Pips grinned across the dinner table at her. ‘I stand corrected, Granny Fortesque.’
Henry hid his smile and continued. He loved to see this headstrong young woman clashing swords with his formidable mother and would often deliberately start a conversation to provoke a ‘healthy discussion’. Then he would sit back and enjoy the verbal firework display!
‘But I fear matters are coming to a head and we could have real trouble that will affect all classes of society in one way or another.’
Henry was right. Over the next two months as talks failed, a crisis loomed; by May, the Trades Union Congress called a strike, which split the view of the country and, as the newspapers declared, developed into a class war. Soon,
the press themselves were affected as a general strike began on 3 May and newspapers could no longer be printed. Over one and a half million workers went on strike. The transport systems ground to a halt, which affected all areas of life. The Government, however, during the time it had provided a subsidy, had made plans and now used volunteers, primarily from the middle classes, to run trains and buses.
Soon there were clashes between the strikers and the volunteers and, of course, with the police, who were only trying to do their job in keeping law and order.
Thirty-Two
‘Darling, you don’t mean to tell me that you’re on the side of these dreadful strikers?’
‘Of course I am, Milly. They’ve been treated appallingly. It’s even been reported that the King has said that people should try living on their wages before judging them.’
‘Well, I’m sorry for the miners and their families – of course I am,’ Milly seemed to be wavering, ‘but they can’t hold the country to ransom like this.’ She paused and then added, uncertainly, ‘Can they?’
Pips shrugged. ‘It seems they can.’
‘What about the rest of your family? Surely they don’t agree with it. I mean . . .’ Milly flapped her hands. ‘You’re hardly “working class”, are you?’
‘I don’t believe in the class system. We all contribute to the life of this country in some way, or at least we should do. My mother owns an estate, yes, but she gives employment to others. My father works very hard as the local doctor. And I am trying to do something useful at Hazelwood House, even if I am having fun at the same time.’
‘And I suppose you think me a useless butterfly.’ Milly’s pretty face crumpled and tears glistened in her eyes. ‘Endless partying, dancing and trailing after chaps who don’t seem to have any intention of proposing and making an honest woman of me.’
‘Oh Milly, darling . . .’ Pips put her arms around her and Milly laid her head against Pips’s shoulder. ‘I thought you’d had umpteen proposals, especially from Paul.’
‘I did, about three years ago, but recently he’s stopped asking and now I realize I love him, but I think I’ve left it too late.’
The Brooklands Girls Page 21