No funeral was possible as his body was lost, but determined to celebrate their son’s life, Ewan’s family held a memorial service at the St Andrew’s church close to their home. It was packed to the doors with friends, old fishermen he used to work with, siblings, cousins, aunts and whatever uncles were still around. Queenie claimed she was unable to attend, as she was busily involved in rehearsals for her next concert, again revealing her lack of care. Accompanied by Merryn, Cecily listened to the memories and stories they all told about him with a strange combination of pride and despair in her heart. It was a day that would live forever in her soul, as would Ewan.
Over the coming days, Cecily sat huddled in her room, rocking herself in misery, going nowhere and doing nothing, feeling as if she’d been ripped to pieces, her heart broken. All too aware she would soon be required to return to work on the trams, she could hardly persuade her brain to think of how she could go on living without him. How many other men too had lost their lives? Thousands had died at the Battle of the Somme last summer, some of them merely young boys, having joined out of a sense of patriotism. What an appalling war this was. Would it get better or worse? She could hardly bear to think.
Having barely slept a wink and filled with depression, one morning she rose early and walked down to the seafront along the terraces to the beach changing rooms. Moments later she was swimming fast and strong in the sea close to the Pier. Several swimming clubs met here and would swim early each morning. Cecily had often joined them and Ewan would be with her. Now she was alone and wrapped in grief. Swimming mainly beneath the water, she lifted her head only occasionally above the gently lapping waves to draw breath. The sun winked and shimmered on the surface of the water, blotting out all sight of land and Smeaton’s Tower. There was nothing sparkling about her mood, which was at complete odds with this sunny April day. Locked in pain, her mind felt as if she was swamped in dark, heavy, wet clouds.
Turning her back on the shoreline and the unwelcome sight of dozens of boats, she dived deeper, heading further out to sea, her eyes glaring at the pebbles slowly vanishing beneath her. She had no wish to relish any sight of the sun, nor children playing on the various beaches. How she’d longed to bear Ewan’s child. Now, with no hope of marriage, she would have none. How could she face life without him? Filled with the desire to join Ewan, wherever he was, she considered letting herself drown in the murky world at the bottom of the sea.
Is this what her father did when his marriage had apparently failed and he’d presumably found himself facing an empty life? Whether his death had been suicide or a freak accident was a question her mother had never answered.
It came to her then that she’d not lost Ewan because of his lack of love for her. He’d joined the Navy to fight in the war at just nineteen because he loved the sea and was a brave young man, keen to do his bit for the country. Filled with pride for him, how could she blame him for taking such a dangerous risk? Hadn’t many valiant young men joined up for the King’s shilling? She recalled how he’d proposed to her before being sent off to France, so keen to marry her. In spite of her deep love for him and being only eighteen at the time, she’d claimed to be too young to contemplate marriage with no hope of the necessary permission from her mother. Now, three years later, not having seen him for over a year and turned twenty-one last month, the war was still going on and Ewan was lost forever. How she deeply regretted putting off their marriage. If only they had eloped in defiance of her mother, instead of always giving in to her demands. They could then have spent some time together before he departed this world.
Holding firmly to the image of his handsome face, the way he used to smile at her, the touch of his lips and the warmth of his arms whenever he held her close with love in his eyes, Cecily told herself that drowning was not the answer to her troubles. She needed to keep Ewan forever in her heart. Nor must she abandon her beloved sister.
With enormous effort, Cecily forced her tired limbs to swim back up to the surface. Taking a breath, she allowed herself to be encased in a bubble of brilliant, magical light from the sun. Approaching the shore, she saw Merryn waving to her from Tinside Beach, then she stepped into the water, doing battle with the waves and looking desperate to reach her. Panic echoed through Cecily, knowing her sister was no great swimmer, particularly dressed in her long skirt. Quickly lifting her hand, she shouted, ‘Stay there, Merryn, I’m on my way back.’
Gathering her strength, she swam as fast as she could, feeling almost thankful when her feet touched the sandy beach. Merryn was waiting for her anxiously and handing her a towel, slipped her arms around Cecily to give her a tight hug, clearly aware she was still suffering from the pain of her loss. ‘I came looking for you, to make sure you were all right.’
‘I’m in better health now, thank you,’ Cecily said with a weak smile as she began to rub herself dry.
Merryn pulled a face. ‘Queenie was displeased to see you go off alone for a swim. She wishes to discuss plans for your future.’
In mournful silence, Cecily tickled a sea anemone in a nearby rock pool with her toe, coaxing it into opening its delicate fronds. Finding a mussel close by, the waving tentacles gobbled it up and closed again. How precious and short life was! Glancing around, she reminded herself that she adored this place. Ewan too had loved living here. They used to hunt for crabs in rock pools, swim in the sea and walk for miles along the coast or fish in the Sound. Not that she was as good at fishing as he had been. They’d spent such a happy time together, climbing over rocks, dipping in rock pools and laughingly stalking each other. She would secretly allow him to catch her so that he could steal a kiss any time he fancied. He’d been the love of her life, and always would be.
Now she gave a rueful shake of her head, feeling quite unequal to breaching the rigid stance her mother took. ‘I suspect these plans will be whatever suits her, not me.’
‘I agree she can be a bit of a problem. Don’t let her bully you. You’re a clever and talented girl. I’m quite certain you’ll find something useful to do with your life.’
‘I’ll try my best to think of something. Goodness knows what that will be.’
‘I’ll help you to decide,’ Merryn said with a smile. ‘You can sing so wonderfully, but as we know, Queenie does not wish you to perform ever again. I do, however. Goodness, she’s here!’
Cecily looked up in dismay to find her mother striding towards them, looking angrier than ever, her feet getting blocked in the sand with each furious step as she wore pretty heeled shoes, more suitable for a stage than a beach.
‘What the hell do you think you’re doing? Have you gone mad?’
Her mother’s sympathy had now clearly vanished, and Cecily felt a shaft of pain again clench her heart, as it did a hundred times a day. Worried about how many lifetimes it would take to pull herself out of this grief, she’d spoken to the vicar. He’d kindly explained that you never did get over losing a loved one; you just had to learn to live with the reality and be thankful he was at peace. The truth of this would not resurface her mother’s compassion or her lack of interest in a young man of whom she’d highly disapproved.
‘I woke this morning feeling the need for some fresh air and exercise after the agony I’ve suffered. What is wrong with my taking a swim?’
‘Swimming with barely any clothes on is no way for a young woman to behave. Get dressed this minute.’
Glancing down at her striped swimming costume, which covered her arms and shoulders and almost reached her knees, Cecily felt the urge to laugh out loud at such a ridiculous comment, even though her wide, generous mouth felt far too stiff to manage a smile. The tension etched within her made her banish this desire with a burst of anger over her mother’s constant disapproval. ‘I surely look perfectly respectable and what I do with my time is no concern of yours, Mama.’
‘Oh, you heartless girl, how can you say such a thing?’ As Queenie burst into tears, she wrapped her arms around her daughter, hugging her tight. ‘I feared you were hell-bent
on taking your own life.’
Cecily was filled with shame at hearing this comment. Realising she’d said or done entirely the wrong thing she gave a soft apology. ‘I’m so sorry, Mama. I assure you I’d never do that.’ She made no mention of the depressive, crazed thoughts that had driven her to swim ever deeper, perhaps seeking that hidden kingdom beneath the sea that the Cornish so like to believe exists.
‘Oh, thank goodness. Pray do not deny me the right to be concerned about your future,’ Queenie said in a surprisingly soft tone of voice. ‘I believe it’s time for you to return to work.’
Cecily appreciated that she would forever grieve for Ewan and dreaded the prospect of facing a lonely and solitary future. Since his death a few weeks ago, she’d felt filled with pain, as thousands of other women experienced because of their losses in this dreadful war. The United States had now entered the conflict, declaring war on Germany, so there was little sign of it ending soon. Once it was over, would she ever become close to another man? She felt no desire for that to happen. Her life had changed forever. Now it was time for her to move forward.
‘You are right, Mama. Going back to work will give me a reason to go on.’
Over the next days, Cecily was still unable to relax and sleep. She would spend hours struggling to think through what she should do with her life, struggling not to remember the foolishness of swimming out to sea, which had so upset her poor sister as well as her mother. Then one night, remembering how Merryn had reminded her of that wonderful performance she gave before Christmas, an idea sparked within her. It felt like a flash of light across the bay, creating a glint of unexpected excitement. Pulling on her dressing gown, she crept to her sister’s bedroom. Slipping quietly in without bothering to tap on the door, she was pleased to find Merryn reading a book by candlelight, as was often the case.
‘Can I join you for a moment?’ she whispered.
Pulling back the blanket to let her in, Merryn gave a little chuckle. ‘You’ve constantly done that since I was small, so why not? Are you still feeling in need of help?’
Cecily happily snuggled in beside her. ‘I’ve been speaking firmly to myself and have resolved to find happiness some way other than the marriage I’d looked forward to with Ewan. I feel the need to build a new life. Also, I want to thank you for your opinion of my so-called talent, lovey. It’s given me a wonderful idea. You are right, I can sing quite well, if not how Mama used to,’ she modestly stated. ‘So why don’t I do that for the soldiers in France?’
Merryn gazed at her sister, astounded. ‘Are you serious?’
‘I most certainly am.’
‘I can’t believe what you’re saying,’ she said, tossing her book aside. ‘Tell me more.’
‘I’ve no idea what it might entail. I desperately feel the need to support Ewan’s efforts in the war, as well as do my bit to help other brave young men trapped in the trenches. It would give me a new purpose in life, one that might also help me deal with my loss. Would you be willing to play your piano accordion for me?’ Cecily asked, her expression changing to a broad grin.
‘Oh, my goodness, you want me to join you?’
‘I do. We’re a very close team and you’re a better musician than me. I’m just a singer.’
‘Not for a moment would I claim to be more talented than either you or Queenie.’ Merryn’s hazel eyes narrowed as she gave the matter more careful thought. ‘You realise we’d have to give up our jobs. It would also involve travelling to an unknown foreign place close to the battlefront and danger. Are you sure you want to do that?’
‘A part of me would like to stay in Cornwall or Devon forever, but life is presenting new challenges so I’m prepared to take the risk. And why stay here with our disapproving and neglectful mother? She’s so hard to live with. We can come back to our jobs once the war is over, and find peace and happiness.’ She met her sister’s confused gaze with deep pleading in her own. ‘I’m keen to do my bit in memory of Ewan and for the men in the war. Please say you’re willing to help too.’
Merryn’s face lit with a grin. ‘I am indeed. Let’s do it. You and I are indeed a team. Off we’ll go to entertain the troops.’
FIVE
THEY SPENT much of the night talking through what they needed to do to make the necessary arrangements. It felt like a turning point in Cecily’s life, a commitment that set the reality of war above such trivialities as personal happiness. Performing in concert parties in France had not at first been considered an appropriate role for women. She was aware that because of the shortage of men, the authorities finally did give permission, accepting that touring parties needed to be mainly female. It could certainly prove to be dangerous, but Cecily prayed they would survive unharmed.
‘Do you plan to persuade anyone else to come with us?’ Merryn asked.
‘I’m not sure who we could ask,’ Cecily admitted.
‘What about Johnny the drummer? He isn’t a conscientious objector. The Army rejected him because he wears spectacles, having an eyesight problem, and he’s not terribly tall or fit. I think he’s been hounded by the white-feather campaign on more than one occasion but I don’t believe he’s a coward. He’s just not exactly big and strong.’
‘You sound as if you know him well. Is he your new sweetheart?’ Cecily teased her.
‘No, of course not.’
‘But you’d like him to be?’ Cecily smiled as her sister’s cheeks flushed bright pink. She’d had only a few over the last year or two and more often than not, Queenie would dismiss them after only a few weeks, just as she’d attempted to do with Ewan. Merryn never once protested, being three years younger than Cecily. Could she be much more captivated by this young man? Unlike her dear sister, Cecily no longer nursed any desire for marriage, caring little for her own well-being. Bearing in mind the traumas they might face, she vowed to do her best to protect her.
‘He’s just a good friend,’ Merryn said. ‘Johnny is quite talented so I believe he’d be a useful addition to our team.’
‘Good idea. I’ll let you know when it’s safe to ask him, once I’ve acquired the necessary passports and permits. And say nothing about this plan to Mama either. I’ve no wish to risk any further disagreement between us.’
‘Oh, I do so agree.’
‘I’ll write to the local authorities first thing in the morning. We should be aware it could take a while before I get a response.’
It was barely a week later that Cecily arrived home from work to find she’d received a letter inviting her to take part in an interview. Bursting with excitement, she showed it to Merryn as they sat having supper together.
‘How wonderful to get a response so quickly!’ her sister said in surprise.
‘Would you believe they wish me to attend the Army Headquarters first thing tomorrow?’
‘Will I have to attend too? I do have a day off from work.’
Cecily grinned. ‘As I’m the one who planned this project, it’s up to me to get the necessary permission, then you can go and speak to Johnny.’
Cecily sat in the waiting room, her nerves jangling slightly. She’d worked out what to say with regard to their various skills and overall plan. More importantly, she’d rehearsed her speech on her strong desire to do her bit for the men in the war. Hadn’t she been involved with the battle for the women’s vote for a long time, so this surely couldn’t be any more difficult?
A young woman approached her with a smile, and leading her into the office directed her to a seat before a large desk. Cecily struggled to calm her pounding heart by taking deep breaths. The stern-faced man seated behind it did not look up, being engrossed in reading a pile of papers stacked before him. Finally, he lifted his head to stare at her over his reading glasses.
‘Lieutenant Trevain, at your service. You are this . . . er . . .’ he glanced again at the paper, ‘Miss Hanson?’
‘I am, sir, yes.’
He glowered at her, scepticism clear in his face. ‘So you are claiming to be
a singer capable of entertaining the troops?’
Determinedly ignoring the patronising tone of his voice, Cecily instantly began to relate her skills and her sister’s musical ability, carefully making no mention of their famous mother. If she revealed Queenie’s name, he might opt for her instead, which was not at all what she wanted to happen. Before she managed to explain what she could offer, as well as the possibility of persuading others to join them, he briskly interrupted her.
‘You’re just a skinny little miss and far too young. I think you’d best leave.’ Banging the bell on his desk, the door quickly opened and the young woman again appeared. ‘See this girl out, please.’
Cecily felt utterly devastated at being dismissed before she’d been allowed to properly speak of her plans and the reason for this project. He hadn’t asked her a single question. ‘I may be young but I can perform well,’ she retorted smartly, and leaping to her feet in a blaze of passion instantly began to sing ‘Take Me Back to Dear Old Blighty’. She saw how his eyes widened in surprise, his secretary coming closer to listen, with a smile of appreciation on her face. Cecily dipped her knees, saluted, and stamped her feet up and down as if she was a soldier in uniform on the march, then hugged her chest by the end of the chorus.
Take me back to dear old Blighty
Put me on a train to London Town
Take me over there, drop me anywhere
Birmingham, Leeds, or Manchester, well, I don’t care
I should love to see my best girl
Cuddling up again we soon would be,
Whoa
Tidley-iddley-ighty,
hurry me home to Blighty
Blighty is the place for me.
When she’d finished, there was no applause, only a strange, eerie silence. ‘This song is very popular,’ she quietly informed the Lieutenant. ‘Tommies who feel homesick do love it.’
Glancing across at his secretary, he said, ‘Bring us a pot of tea, please, Mrs Marsden. Now do take a seat, Miss Hanson. You should be aware that there are rules for any concert party going abroad to entertain the troops, many required by the French as well as the British Government.’
Girls of the Great War Page 4