On the first day there, Jonas said, ‘Please don’t let Peter near the horses, Lizzie.’
When I said his father might want to show them to us, he told me to make sure Peter wasn’t near them, and I promised.
Kathleen had an old but very comfortable car, and she would take us into Cork for shopping. She would go off with Margaret and they’d end up in one of the many cafés while I’d look round the shops with Peter. We would take his pushchair, and I loved walking around the town with him before joining the two ladies as they sat chatting over their morning coffee.
One morning while Jonas was out for a walk, his father said, ‘Let me show you the stables, Lizzie. Peter will like them.’
I was in a quandary. I had made a promise to Jonas, but I didn’t want to hurt his father’s feelings. I hesitated and the old man gave me a keen look. ‘Jonas doesn’t want Peter to be near them, does he?’
‘No, he doesn’t. I’m sorry, but I did promise him I wouldn’t let Peter near them.’
He sighed. ‘I suppose it is all my fault, this phobia Jonas has about the horses. He’s been frightened of them since he was a child.’
I was surprised. ‘Frightened by horses?’ All the time I had known my husband, he hadn’t been frightened by anything.
‘When he was small, he was playing near the stables and his ball went into one of the stalls. Jonas ran in after it, and we had this very skittish and frisky horse there and it reared up just where Jonas was standing. My late wife Mary managed to grab him and get him out, and she gave me such a telling off about it. She told Jonas that horses were dangerous and he should never go near them again, and he didn’t.’
I felt sorry for him, and I understood how Jonas felt. It must have been a terrifying thing to happen to a little boy. In fact, it was a wonder he had been able to go and lead a life full of danger with his work in China.
When Jonas came back, I mentioned the conversation. ‘Can I not hold on to Peter and let him look at the horses from a distance? It’ll make his grandfather happy.’
I must have had my pleading face on, because he relented. ‘Now don’t go too close.’
The next morning, much to Jonas Snr’s delight, we made our way to the stables. There were twelve stalls and everything was clean and fresh. I heard the noise from the stalls and the horses put their heads out of the doors. Peter gave a cry of pleasure when he saw them and stretched out his chubby arms towards them.
His grandfather said he could touch them if he liked, but I was full of misgivings. I edged a little bit further forward, and to my amazement the horse in the nearest stall let Peter clap him on the head, and it even nuzzled his little hand.
His grandfather stood beside him with a look of pleasure. ‘Peter loves the horses, but more importantly they love him back. Horses pick up frightened thoughts, and because Jonas was always frightened around them they reacted to his fear.’
‘But that’s just one horse who likes Peter,’ I said. ‘Maybe the others will be different.’ But they weren’t, and I couldn’t believe my eyes.
I told Jonas later how the visit had gone and he shook his head. When I mentioned about being frightened, he said, ‘Well, that’s true enough, I was frightened of them.’
Every day during our visit, Peter and his grandfather would be at the stables, where the horses would gently nuzzle Peter’s outstretched hands as he helped to feed them. In the evening, after a huge meal and after Peter was in bed, we would sit around the fire. Sometimes Sean and Kathleen would be there, and we sat with a glass of Irish whiskey and chatted. The talk was usually about the farm or the stables, but it soon turned to the state of the world.
‘There’s going to be another war with Germany,’ said Sean. ‘Yon Hitler fellow and the Nazi Party are determined to march into the Rhineland.’
My husband agreed with him. ‘It’s the same in China. Japan is going to overrun the east coast port cities and it’s only a matter of time before they attack other places. Then there’s this civil war in Spain. My friend Alex has been there to document the fighting. He tells me it’s terrible, with hundreds dead.’
I hated all this talk of war. What a terrible world we lived in when people couldn’t live in peace with their neighbours and get on with living day after day without the fear of bombs and advancing armies.
Margaret said it was the fault of the Versailles Treaty. ‘It left Germany on the brink of bankruptcy after the war, and now all this discontent and vast inflation has set it all alight again. Gerald and I saw lots of local skirmishes in the countries we lived in, but this war, if it does come to that, will be much more serious.’
Jonas agreed with her, and after we were in bed I asked him, ‘Do you really think there’s going to be another war?’
‘I don’t think it, Lizzie, I know it. The Japanese won’t be content with what they have, because they plan to rule the entire Asian continent and the Pacific Ocean islands.’
It was difficult to think about war in this green and peaceful land, so I tried to put it out of my mind.
We stayed for two months in Cork, but soon it was time to go back home. Jonas was keen to get back to writing his book and I knew he would want to see Alex and discuss it with him.
It was difficult to say goodbye, but we boarded the train as Jonas’s family stood on the platform and saw us off. ‘Try to come back soon,’ they said, as the train pulled out of the station.
The sea was a bit rougher on the homeward crossing, and I stayed in the salon with Peter and Margaret while Jonas went up on the deck.
I was glad to be home, even though we had had a wonderful time. I opened all the windows to let the fresh air into the house, as it was a bit musty, and the sea breeze soon dispersed the stale air.
There was a letter from Elsie waiting for me and I answered it immediately, telling her we had been away. She said she was planning to come and visit, and we made a date for that.
Autumn had come early and the weather turned more chilly, but the sun shone the day Elsie arrived. She looked better than the last time I had seen her, as she had put on some weight and was not as thin as she had been in Shanghai.
I thanked her for looking after Peter and asked her if there was news of Ronnie.
‘He’s dead,’ she said simply. ‘The manager of the mill has come back to England and he told Ronnie’s father that he had been killed in a bombing raid. His father wanted to bring his body back home, but the Japanese said he had been buried in a cemetery in Shanghai.’
I was upset at this news, but Elsie had remained dry-eyed when she’d mentioned it.
‘I should be sorry for him,’ she said, ‘but he told me the marriage was over, so although I never wanted him dead, I don’t feel any emotion about him.’
‘What about the woman he was living with?’ I asked.
She shrugged her shoulders. ‘The manager never mentioned Ivanka, so I don’t know what’s become of her. Maybe she died along with Ronnie. I don’t know. I felt sorry for her, Lizzie. That day I confronted Ronnie, she came running after me and begged me to try to get her a passport, but I had to tell her I couldn’t help. I still feel guilty, though there was nothing I could do.’
I walked her back to the station. ‘Are you still living with your mother?’
She screwed up her mouth. ‘Yes, I am, but I suppose I’m grateful she’s given me a roof over my head.’
‘What about Ronnie’s father, could he not help out financially?’
‘I told him I didn’t want his money because I blame him for sending Ronnie out there in the first place. Maybe if we had stayed in Edinburgh and got our own little artist’s studio we could still be happily married.’
I doubted that, although I didn’t say so. I thought Ronnie would have been the way he was in Shanghai even if he had stayed in Edinburgh, or indeed in any place.
As Elsie was boarding the train, she said, ‘Do you remember I told you about Robert Macdonald, that policeman in Shanghai? The one who had been at school with
me? Well, guess what, he’s back in Edinburgh and has joined the police force there. We met up quite by accident and we’ve become really good friends. We go out to the pictures and dances, and he’s good company.’
‘Aye aye,’ I thought. ‘Do I suspect a romantic involvement?’ Well, I hoped for Elsie’s sake it was, but time would tell.
51
A NEW ARRIVAL AND
ANOTHER WAR
I suspected I was pregnant but hadn’t said anything to Jonas. I felt nauseous in the mornings, but I wanted to make sure before mentioning it, so I made an appointment with the doctor and he confirmed it. We would have another addition to the family in September.
Although I was pleased to be having another baby, I was worried about the state of the world, with all these rumours of war. Peter was getting bigger every day and it would soon be his fourth birthday.
As we lay in bed that night, I told Jonas about the new baby and he sat up and held me tight. ‘That’s great news, Lizzie. Peter will have a new brother or sister.’
I told him of my fears about bringing a new baby into a world where another war could break out at any time, but he said that women had been having the same fears since the dawn of time and either you survived or you didn’t. ‘Don’t worry, Lizzie. All will be well, because we are survivors.’
I said the baby was due in September, which meant Peter would be four and a half years old. We told Margaret the next morning as we sat down for breakfast, and like Jonas she was also delighted.
‘It’s lovely to have a family around you, Lizzie. Sadly Gerald and I couldn’t have any children. Whether it was his fault or mine I don’t know, but at the time we didn’t mind, as Gerald loved his work. I would have liked a child, but it didn’t happen.’
She sounded so sad that I went and gave her a hug.
‘You were like a mother to me, Margaret, especially after Mum died, and I appreciate it.’
She took my hand. ‘I also felt like I was a sister to Beth when my mother married your grandfather. She was like my baby sister, and then you came along and you took her place. I’ve been very lucky to have had two children to care for.’
I was planning on having a small family party for Peter and I had ordered a birthday cake from the local baker, Goodfellow & Steven. Then I had to smile when Jonas came back from the town with a train set. It had metal rails, an engine and carriages plus a station, signal box and even some houses and trees.
Jonas set it up the night before Peter’s birthday so he could see it when he woke up. As I lay in bed that night, Jonas was still playing with it and it made me wonder if he had bought it for himself or his son. When he finally came to bed, I said, ‘Well, is the train safely parked in the station?’
He grinned at me and said he had to make sure it was working, otherwise Peter would be disappointed if it wasn’t.
Peter had birthday cards from Ireland and also from Elsie and Betsy and Jeannie Miller in Edinburgh. We gave him our cards when he woke up and he adored his train, but I was surprised when Jonas produced another present. It was a rocking horse, which along with Margaret they had secretly bought and hidden in the wood shed. When Peter saw it, his little eyes lit up. He called it Corkie after one of the horses at his grandfather’s stables. His grandfather had sent him a couple of books about horses, and his great-uncle and -aunt included a furry toy in the shape of a pony, so it turned out to be a ‘horsey’ birthday.
We had a family tea, but this time Peter managed to blow out the candles in one go and was able to eat a slice of cake instead of sticking his fist into it like he had done in Shanghai.
I was so pleased Betsy and Jeannie had remembered his birthday. Elsie had said they were now retired and living in a small bungalow in Edinburgh. Their brother David had stayed at the Mission in China and Elsie said that was a continual worry to them.
The summer arrived, with a heatwave in June, and Peter played on the beach most days with his bucket and spade. For some reason, he never liked the water to go over his feet and I was glad, because that meant he wasn’t in danger of going out too far.
Margaret loved the sun, and she would sit in the old faded deckchair on the veranda doing her crossword or reading. The situation in Europe was getting worse, but I hoped it wouldn’t come to anything. After all, the last war, which had killed so many people, was still fresh in people’s minds.
In the evening we loved to sit on the veranda and watch the sun go down over the sea. At ten o’clock, Margaret would go and make cocoa and take it to her room, where she had a small wireless she liked to listen to. Meanwhile Jonas and I would sit until twilight.
One night I was so overcome by the beautiful sunset that I asked him, ‘Jonas, do you miss living in China?’
He didn’t answer straight away but sat looking out to sea. Then he said, ‘Yes, I miss it sometimes. I miss the sounds from the streets and playing mah-jong with Zheng Yan. I miss the rickshaws and the people and the adventure of going to places and writing about them.’
I was sorry I had asked, because I thought it meant he was unhappy living in this tiny town and this small house by the sea.
‘Although I said I miss things, Lizzie, it was when I thought I was going to die when that bomb exploded that I suddenly realised I might never see you or Peter again, and that made me realise the true value of life. It’s not searching for adventure or living with danger that counts, it’s the value of love and family and home. That’s what life is all about.’ He put his arm around me and I snuggled up to him. ‘What do you miss?’ he asked.
I had no hesitation. ‘I miss our house on Bubbling Well Road, the little paper boy and the old lady from the laundry. I often think of them and hope they’re still safe and well under the Japanese regime. I miss Zheng Yan and Ping Li and the friendship they gave me, and all the little shops in the old town where entire families served their customers almost twenty-four hours a day. The person I miss most of all is Mr Wang and his Wonderful World of Books. Did I ever tell you that a passenger on the cargo ship coming here told me he thought he was murdered by a criminal gang?’
Jonas laughed. ‘I doubt it. Mr Wang was ninety-five when he died.’
I couldn’t believe it. ‘Ninety-five? I thought he was sixty or seventy.’
There was one thing I hadn’t brought up with Margaret and I mentioned it to Jonas.
‘I sent a letter from Macao to Margaret to tell her where I was and that I would soon be home, but she has never mentioned it and she seemed surprised when I arrived at the hospital that day. In fact, she said I had died. What do you think about that?’
Jonas said he had no idea. ‘Perhaps it got mislaid or never arrived.’ He stood up. ‘Right then, little mother, it’s time for bed.’
It was a month later when I was cleaning out one of the drawers in the kitchen that I found out what had happened to the letter. At the back was a hard lump that looked like papier mâché. I held it in my hand wondering what on earth it was when I noticed one small patch that looked like an air-mail envelope. I tried to pull the lump apart, but it disintegrated in my hands.
I went to see Margaret and showed it to her. ‘What on earth is this, Margaret?’
She took it and frowned. ‘I’ve no idea. Where did you find it?’
‘It was in the kitchen drawer.’
‘Oh yes, I remember now. The postman left the mail in the box. It had been raining and there was a huge pool of water on the path. I tripped over a stone and the letters went into the water, and when I fished them out they were all soggy and the handwriting was blurry. I tried to dry them out by wringing them, but they went all lumpy, so I shoved them in a drawer to dry out. Was it anything important, Lizzie?’
I looked at her dear sweet face and smiled. ‘No, Margaret, it’s nothing important. I just wondered what it was.’
I mentioned this to Jonas and he said, ‘Just as well you weren’t shipwrecked and desperately needing help, wasn’t it?’
I almost told him that I had ind
eed needed help, but I didn’t.
It was a Sunday morning when I went into labour. I was due to give birth in the infirmary in Dundee, and Margaret collected my case, which was already packed, and saw me and Jonas off in the local taxi. Peter stood beside her and waved, but I told him Mummy would soon be home with a new sister or brother. He was clutching his toy pony and seemed more interested in that than in the new sister or brother, and that amused his father.
‘I think it’s very naughty of you, Lizzie, to be having a child and not a pony,’ he said laughingly.
The taxi driver looked back in amazement. ‘Don’t worry about my husband,’ I said. ‘It’s just his sense of humour.’
The man looked relieved. When we got to the hospital, I was admitted to one of the large wards with rows of beds on each side. It was so unlike Peter’s birth in the small hospital in Shanghai, but I was glad I was in capable hands.
By now the contractions were becoming stronger, but it wasn’t until eight o’clock that evening that our daughter was born. By then I felt exhausted and was just glad it was all over. The midwife put her in my arms and once again I had that strong maternal feeling of overwhelming love for another small scrap of humanity.
Jonas was allowed in to see me briefly and he said our daughter was beautiful. ‘Just like her mother.’ He said he would be back with Margaret during the visiting hours next day. Before he left, I said to tell Peter about the baby, and he gave me an impish grin. ‘He’ll be very disappointed it’s not a pony.’ Thankfully no one was around to hear this, as they would have thought I had married a madman.
Margaret and Jonas came the next day to see me, and I panicked when I didn’t see Peter. Margaret said, ‘It’s all right. Elsie is looking after him, and she’s downstairs in the waiting room with him. She says she’ll only stay a short time, because you’ll want Jonas to be here all the visiting hour.’
Elsie came in and she looked radiant. It was so good to see her, and she congratulated me on the birth of a daughter. I asked her how she was, and she smiled as she held out her left hand to show me her engagement ring.
Dragon Land Page 33