The High Calling

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The High Calling Page 12

by Gilbert, Morris


  “Have you read any of my books?” she inquired.

  “No, ma’am, I haven’t, but I would love to. I must confess I don’t know much history. I’m afraid most Americans are fairly ignorant about their own history, much less that of others.”

  Parker covered his mouth to hide a smile. His aunt was outspoken against ignorance, especially American ignorance, and here Katherine had unwittingly spiked her guns.

  “Well, I’m sure I have one or two of my books up in my room. I’d be happy to give you one.”

  “Oh, would you sign it for me, please?”

  “Yes, of course. I’ve written one about chivalry in the Middle Ages you might find interesting.”

  “Would you like to see the grounds,” Grace intervened, “or have luncheon first, Miss Winslow?”

  “Whichever would be most convenient.”

  “Let’s eat first,” Parker said. “Where are the twins?”

  “You don’t want them at lunch,” Veronica said. “They’d be too much of a distraction.”

  “I really would like to see them if it’s not too much trouble,” Kat said. “I love children.”

  “I’ll get them, but be prepared,” Parker warned her.

  He left the room, and Veronica began questioning their guest. Edith eyed her narrowly, for she understood Veronica better than most. Even though Edith and the Bradens had been instrumental in getting her nephew together with Veronica, she now grieved over their role in having encouraged such a match. She was sadly aware that Veronica drank too much and that she was not a good mother. She either swamped the children with affection, usually when she had been drinking, or ignored them. Either extreme was bad.

  “Here. Why don’t we go into the dining room and sit down?” Gregory suggested. “I want to hear what you and your family have been doing with your livestock.”

  Kat took her place, but they had only started their discussion of the Black Angus breed when Parker came in, carrying his children.

  “This is Paul and this is Heather. Children, this is Miss Winslow.”

  He lowered them to the floor, and both children clung tightly to their father’s hands.

  Paul said firmly, “Hello.”

  Kat went and kneeled in front of them.

  “Hello. I’ll bet you’re Paul.”

  “And I’m Heather.”

  “Daddy say you come from long way away.”

  “Yes, that’s right, Heather.”

  “Do you hab any wittle boys or girls?” Paul asked.

  “Not yet.”

  “Why?” he asked.

  “Don’t rush her, son,” Parker said. “Let’s get you in your seats.” He got the twins settled in their high chairs at the long dining room table, then said to Kat, “Now you can compare English cooking with American cooking.”

  “I’ve already been doing that at the mission.”

  They all bowed their heads, and Gregory asked a brief blessing.

  “What is this?” Kat asked after she had taken her first bite of a delicious meat and potato dish.

  “Shepherd’s pie,” Mrs. Henderson said. “It’s our cook’s specialty.”

  “I want pig in a banket,” Paul said.

  “Pig in a blanket! What’s that? It sounds awful.” Kat smiled and winked at Parker.

  “It’s something like an American hotdog—a sausage baked in some dough,” Parker told her. “The kids love ’em.”

  “And they’re terrible for them,” Veronica said. She was observing their guest’s every move. “I know you’re not married, Miss Winslow. Are you engaged?”

  “No, I’m not, Mrs. Braden—or do I call you Lady Braden?”

  “Mrs. Braden is fine. How long do you plan to be in London?” Veronica asked sharply.

  “Until the mission sends me someplace else. I have no idea when that will be.”

  “We’ll have to show you the sights,” Parker said.

  “I’d love to see Buckingham Palace on the inside. Can you pull any strings to let me get a peek at the royal family?”

  Lord Braden laughed. “Not too many people get to see inside the palace, but the royal family is pretty much in the public eye now. We might catch a glimpse of them out and about.”

  “I’d like to visit Parliament too—maybe see the new prime minister, Mr. Churchill. He sounds like a capable leader.”

  “He’s rather wild, I’m afraid.” Gregory shrugged. “Always off on all sorts of adventures.”

  “I think he’s a good man, Father,” Parker said. “He doesn’t pull any punches. All he promises us is blood, sweat, and tears.”

  “That’s a switch from the promises politicians usually make,” Edith said. “But he may be just the sort of leader we need right now. Ordinary methods won’t work.”

  The conversation about the war continued, with everyone except Veronica and the children contributing. Parker didn’t seem to care much for the subject either.

  When the meal was over, Parker said, “Suppose we go take a look at your old friend Hercules.” He turned to his wife. “Veronica, would you like to go with us?”

  “No thank you. I’ve seen cows before.”

  The twins immediately started clamoring to go, but Parker shook his head. “No, not this time.”

  “Oh, please, Parker, let them go,” Kat pleaded.

  “You don’t know what you’re asking for. It’s like herding a bunch of bees across the desert.”

  “Surely two of us can handle two small children.”

  “All right. You asked for it. Let’s get you cleaned up a bit first, kids.”

  ****

  “The pasture is so lovely!” Kat exclaimed. “Everything is so green. I think the grass is even greener here than it is at home.”

  “It seemed that way when I was in your country. Of course in Texas the grass is usually brown. Your part of the country is much more beautiful.”

  Kat scanned the cattle grazing in the meadow. “There’s Hercules!”

  “Would you like to go greet him?”

  “Yes!”

  “Me too,” Paul said.

  “No, son, you stay here. We’ll let Katherine have a private reunion with her old friend.”

  “I’ll be right back, Paul,” Kat said. She slipped through the gate and walked rapidly toward the cattle. They were beautiful stock. She was accustomed to seeing fine Black Angus, and these made her proud of Hercules, who was the sire of most of them.

  “Hercules, do you remember me?”

  The massive bull lifted his head and continued chewing his cud as Kat came forward. She ran her hand along his neck, delighted at his healthy appearance. “You’re still a handsome fellow.” She put out her hand and the massive bull lowered his head and licked it. “You remember!” she said. She turned and called, “He remembers me, Parker! Bring the children over. Let me introduce them.”

  Parker took the children’s hands as they came across the field. They were dwarfed by the mighty bull, but when Parker set them on the animal’s back, they squealed with delight. He lifted them off and asked Kat if she wanted to see the grounds.

  As they started the tour, Paul and Heather attached themselves to Kat, each insisting on holding one of her hands.

  “Do you ever think of my visit?” Parker asked.

  “Of course. How could I forget?”

  He turned to look at her, an odd expression in his eyes. “I remember everything about it.”

  His statement brought a flush to Kat’s face. She was thinking about the times he had held her. Since then she had gone out with several other men and had been kissed a few times, but none of the others had interested her much. Now as she stood so close, she remembered his gentleness, and she also remembered how she had responded to his kiss.

  She dropped her eyes and changed the subject. “You’ve done a good job with the herd.”

  “Actually Hercules did most of it.”

  Kat giggled. “You are a fool.”

  “Everyone knows that.” As they w
alked, he pointed out the various buildings and gave her the history of each one.

  “I’m jealous,” Parker told his daughter with a straight face. “You’d rather hold hands with Miss Winslow than me?”

  “You hab hard hands. Shes is soft,” Heather said. She looked up at Kat and smiled. “You gonna stay long time?”

  “I hope so, Heather.”

  “You come back and see us?”

  “Yes. Bring presents!” Paul put in.

  Parker laughed. “There, you see the real Braden trait. Pure selfishness and raw greed.”

  Kat stooped down and hugged both children. “I will come back, and I will bring you both lovely presents.”

  Parker looked down and saw the lissome form of the young woman. Something rose in his throat as she held the hands of the two children as they peppered her with questions. When she stood up, he said, “It looks like you’ve made a conquest.”

  “It’s so easy to love children.”

  “Yes. Sometimes grown-ups are harder.”

  Kat thought this was an odd remark to make, but she made no comment. Overhead the sky was blue, and suddenly she saw a group of planes flying hard and fast. “What are those?”

  “Hurricanes. Probably been scrambled to meet some of Göring’s fellows coming across the Channel.”

  The reminder of war took some of the pleasure out of the moment, and Kat asked no more. She watched the planes as they disappeared and felt a moment’s fear for the tall man who walked beside her.

  ****

  “Isn’t Joseph taking Miss Winslow back to her mission?” Veronica had come outside with the rest of the family. She had expected the chauffeur to be there with the big car, but instead Parker had pulled up in his little two-seater MG.

  Parker got out and heard the question. “I’ll have to be back at the station by eight, so it’ll be convenient for me to drop her off.”

  “It’s been so wonderful being with you, Mrs. Braden.”

  “A pleasure.” Veronica chopped the words off, and there was little warmth in her eyes.

  “You must come back again, my dear,” Grace said.

  “Yes, of course,” Gregory agreed. “Parker monopolized you this time. Next time I want to talk with you about a new breed I’m thinking of adding.”

  “I’d be happy to.”

  Kat said good-bye to the children, promising them the presents they demanded and then got into the car. She couldn’t help noticing Veronica’s sour expression as she stood holding her children’s hands. Parker started down the driveway, and Kat looked back to wave at the children.

  “It was such a short visit,” Parker said. “I haven’t shown you nearly everything.”

  “You have a beautiful home and a wonderful family.” She held up the book Parker’s aunt had given her. “I’m so proud of this book.”

  “It’s pretty heavy stuff.”

  “Is she famous, Parker?”

  “She is among some historians. She hasn’t made a great deal of money from her work, but those who know it admire her.”

  They talked constantly all the way back to Kat’s apartment. When Parker pulled up in front of the building, he got out and came around to open her door.

  “It was wonderful. Thank you so much for having me.”

  “I expect you enjoyed seeing Hercules almost as much as the twins did,” he said with a smile.

  “You have such a wonderful family, and I love your children. They’re so precious. If you ever need a sitter, give me a call.”

  “I may take you up on that. Well, I have to run. It was so good to see you again, Katherine.”

  She turned and walked into the building. She climbed the stairs to her second-story flat and found Meredith waiting. Even before Kat was fully inside the door, Meredith said, “Now, tell me all the juicy details. How the nobility lives.”

  “Well, Meredith, I saw the most beautiful steer in all the world!”

  CHAPTER TEN

  A Cowboy in London

  For most of his life Parker Braden had enjoyed walking along the coast of the English Channel. As a very young boy, he had fallen under the spell of the sea, and some of his happiest memories were of sailing along the coast in the family yacht. When the war started, he had agonized over whether to join the navy or the air force. Now an officer in the RAF, he stared out over the choppy waters at Margate, Kent, and wondered if he had made the right choice.

  With the smell of the sea in his nostrils, he studied the military fortifications built to withstand a possible German invasion by sea. Ever since France had collapsed and the British army had been miraculously delivered at Dunkirk, a furious activity had begun, for all of Britain was convinced that Hitler would be knocking at their door soon. Intelligence had been quick to inform their superiors in London that the Luftwaffe had moved from its home base into the Low Countries and then to France. There they were gathered, just twenty minutes’ flight to Dover and an hour away from London. The German navy also was much in evidence. Barges and small craft were being rounded up, and there could be no question as to their purpose. Sooner or later Hitler would attack across the Channel, and Britain worked to prepare itself.

  Churchill had known, perhaps sooner than anyone else, that Hitler would never be satisfied. He played desperately for time, organizing a home guard to patrol Britain’s roads and the two thousand miles of coastline, some of them armed with only hunting weapons, others with pitchforks and golf clubs. The prime minister called a meeting of the Imperial General Staff in an underground headquarters that was simply called “The hole in the ground.” It was buried beneath Whitehall, close to the houses of Parliament and government offices. As Churchill looked around at his ministers in dead silence, he took the cigar out of his mouth and said firmly, “This is the room in which I’ll direct the war. And if the invasion takes place, I’ll sit here in this chair until either the Germans are driven back or they carry me out dead.”

  Parker smiled slightly as he thought of Churchill’s bulldog attitude. He had braced the people for the struggle to come, and more than any single man at this point, he held the British together.

  Parker turned and walked slowly westward, heading inland now along the Thames Estuary. He glanced out at one of the most ambitious of the coastal defense installations, the Sea Forts. These towering structures were as large as the Arc de Triomphe in Paris. They resembled offshore oil rigs and were constructed on land and then floated out to sea and sunk into place. He watched for a time as men swarmed over them, for they bristled with armament—Lewis guns, Bofors, and 3.7-inch anti-aircraft cannon.

  The sight depressed Parker, and he turned his back on the water and returned to his car to drive back toward London’s East End, about an hour’s drive away. He passed a group of civilians carrying luggage along the road, surrounded by armed British soldiers. These, he knew, were German-born citizens of England. He had heard that thousands of these men were being arrested and hustled off to makeshift camps set up on racetracks or in old factories or even in elegant country estates.

  The faces of the men were grim. Some of them were obviously professional men, others workingmen clad in the rough clothing of their trade. Parker felt something stir within him, for he had known many British citizens of German derivation who were good people and loyal to Great Britain. “They’re going overboard on this,” he muttered. “I can only hope that the officials who have organized this will come to their senses soon.”

  He parked his car near the hospital where Kat worked and, as he got out, was aware of a great deal of activity. He approached a bobby who was taking down a street sign and adding it to a stack of others.

  “What’s going on, Officer?”

  “Taking down all the street signs so those cretin Huns won’t know where they are when they invade.”

  Parker stared at him in disbelief. “They won’t likely be hunting for addresses when they come.”

  The man shrugged, a scowl on his face. “It’s orders, you know. We’ve got
to do everything we can to stop them.”

  This was only one of the measures Parker knew Britain was taking to get ready for war. All the lampposts had been ringed with white paint to make them visible for drivers and pedestrians during blackouts. Headlights had all been fitted with blackout shields that masked the light, and the windows of trains got a coat of dark blue paint to conceal the light from planes overhead.

  As he reached the entrance to the hospital, he saw a crowd gathered and stopped to watch an air-raid rehearsal in progress. There were four men stretched out on the street impersonating victims, while men in white coats came to put them on stretchers and carry them off. A man in a dress suit with a derby was watching the whole thing and nodding with approval. It was all very neat, but Parker thought, When the bombs start falling, it won’t be quite this simple and organized.

  He went into the hospital and stopped to ask for help from a horse-faced woman who sat behind a desk. “I’m looking for one of my pilots. His name is Raymond Bailey.”

  The woman glared at him almost suspiciously. If a pilot in the Royal Air Force gets such a harsh glance, what would she give to a German? he wondered. He smiled, however, as she shuffled through a list of cards.

  “He’s in room 206,” she said. “Take the elevator.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.”

  Parker made his way across the crowded floor, which was filled with scurrying people. When he reached the elevator and punched the button, he heard his name called and turned to see Kat. She was wearing her nurse’s uniform and had a smile for him. “I’m surprised to see you here, Parker.”

  “Why, I’m surprised to see you as well. I didn’t expect to bump into you in this big place. You’re still working at the mission, aren’t you?”

  “Oh yes, but I do a shift here four times a week as well. They’re short of nurses.”

  “That’s nice of you to give them a hand. One of my pilots is here. Maybe you could give him a little special attention.”

  “Of course. What’s his name?”

  The elevator door opened and the two got on. “Lieutenant Raymond Bailey. He was shot down last week and is in pretty bad shape.”

  The others on the elevator were watching the tall pilot as he spoke to the nurse, and Parker felt rather confined. He waited until the elevator stopped on the second floor and the two got off. “He’s in 206.”

 

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