Road to War

by Valerie Wilding

  And so I did! I haven’t bicycled since Archie’s last summer holiday, when we went for a picnic with some bicycle-crazed friends. I was a little wobbly to start with today, and had trouble controlling my skirt, but was soon well away. I must admit I felt a little guilty, though. Papa would have been horrified to see me bicycling through the village streets! Not ladylike! Fortunately, no one of consequence saw me.

  Afterwards, I went up to the studio to see Mimi, who was dappled with paint, as usual. She broke off from her work and sat down heavily in her basket chair. She looked rather “down in the dumps”, as Elsie would say.

  I told her of my trip to the haberdasher’s. She said she envied me.

  “Then you must come bicycling, too,” I said. “On Monday! It will do you good – put some roses in your cheeks.” (Strange. That’s the sort of thing Mimi used to say to me. Now it’s the other way around.) I laughed. “Just don’t tell Uncle Cecil when you write!”

  She sat up straight, looking appalled.

  “Goodness!” she said. “I haven’t written to him for days. How awful of me, Daffy. I must do so at once. He thinks he’s found us an estate manager.” She fetched pen and ink and paper.

  Honestly! Fancy forgetting something as important as that! She’s as bad as I am with my diary, although I write more regularly now.

  As I left her to her letter, she gazed into the distance and said, “Now what was I going to say?”

  “The estate manager,” I reminded her. “And do not mention bicycles!”

  5th February

  I felt most uncomfortable yesterday. Bicycling uses different parts of the body from horse-riding, and I felt quite achy and bruised. Thankfully, Mimi completely forgot about coming bicycling with me.

  Honeycomb is freshly shod, and Hawkins had groomed her until she shone. It was good of him to spend so much time on her, as he has much more work to do now Troggs has gone.

  My visit to Elizabeth today was pleasant. She showed me her embroidery and her scrapbooks. I find them quite dull, but I was conscious that her mother is critical of me, so I spent a lot of time admiring them. We drank tea and ate bread and butter and tiny cakes. I ate far too many of those, but everyone was polite and said they’d really had enough, thank you, when I apologized. I’m not good at polite conversation, but I did make an effort.

  “I cannot wait for high summer so we may have cucumber sandwiches again, Lady Baguley,” I said. “Although your sandwiches are delicious,” I added hastily.

  “Thank you, Daphne,” she replied. Icily, I thought.

  Reggie offered to show me the crocus lawn. I thought that strange, as I’ve seen it many times before, as he well knows. However, Elizabeth whispered that it would be only polite to go with him, so I did. He’s very friendly.

  At dinner tonight, I told Mimi about my day and she said, “Reggie is a pleasant young man.” Then she thought a bit and said, “I’m pleased that you visited Elizabeth. It’s not good for you to stay home all the time. You scarcely leave the grounds these days.”

  “Mimi!” I said. “I’m always out and about on Honeycomb – or even bicycling!”

  “Yes,” she said, “but you’re always alone.”

  That annoyed me a little, for if anyone spends all her time on her own, it’s Mimi. When Archie’s not around, I like my own company. And there’s Honeycomb and Billie and all the other animals. I’m never alone.

  Anyway, the other girls my age don’t really like the sort of things I do. Whenever I’m with them I feel sort of – well, squashed is the only way I can explain it. It’s like I want to burst free of them. I expect they feel the same about me.

  7th February

  A bright sunny day, almost like spring. I wrote some letters, took Billie for a stroll round the lake, then chatted to Mimi. She was concentrating on mixing some difficult shade of blue and wasn’t really paying attention, so I took a book outside to find a sunny, sheltered corner. Then I saw the mulberry tree. Archie and I used to hide up there from Freddie, and I thought it would be nice to sit among the branches and read for a while. However, when I heard a motor car coming, I jumped down without thinking, and caught my skirt. It has a four-inch tear in it.

  It’s pointless giving it to Elsie to mend. She thinks her sewing is neat, but personally, I think she needs spectacles. She mended my lavender petticoat with white thread and then got blood on it from her pricked fingers. The result looked rather like Freddie’s knee when the poor boy had it stitched.

  So I took it to Mrs Hallibert, who wasn’t in a very good mood. Mimi has friends for lunch (that was who was in the motor car) and Mrs Rose hadn’t been able to get her to decide what to serve them. She’d grumbled to Mrs Hallibert who now grumbled to me.

  “I suppose, with Madam the way she is, it’ll be me who has to make these decisions,” Mrs Hallibert muttered.

  “What do you mean ‘the way she is’?” I asked abruptly.

  She hesitated. “Sorry, Miss Daphne. It’s just me, wittering on to myself.”

  “But what did you mean?” I persisted.

  She lifted the lid of her sewing basket. “Your mother’s fine, Miss. Just busy, that’s all, spends all her time in that studio. But it’s nothing for you to worry your pretty head about.”

  9th February

  Poor Hawkins asked if Mimi’s done anything about getting a new stable lad.

  “I can’t carry on doing everything myself, Miss Daphne,” he said. “That young village lad who’s been helping out – well, he’s willing, but not awful strong. He had a difference of opinion with Gulliver ’smorning and ended up on his back in the muck heap, if you’ll pardon my language, Miss. He don’t get on with goats.”

  I asked Mimi if Uncle Cecil had settled anything about the estate manager.

  “Daffy darling,” she said, glancing at her writing desk. “I … oh dear…”

  She obviously hadn’t sent that letter to Uncle Cecil. But she looked so agitated I said, “Don’t worry, I’ll deal with it. You carry on with your painting.” I glanced at it. “Heavens, is that a—” I looked closer. “It is! It’s a fairy!”

  “Yes,” said Mimi, looking more relaxed. “Isn’t she sweet? Her name’s Lalu.”

  I laughed and left. Mimi might have relaxed, but I hadn’t. How on earth do you go about getting a new stable lad? I imagine most young men are joining the army and wouldn’t want to work on the estate.

  10th February

  I don’t know why I worried. When I fetched Honeycomb this morning, I asked Hawkins if he knew what I should do.

  “Bless you, Miss Daphne, if you’ll just give me permission, I’ll find us a new lad,” he said as he altered my left stirrup. “Your father – God rest his soul – would have trusted me to do that, and your grandfather before him, God rest his soul, an’ all.”

  He opened the yard gate and scratched Honeycomb’s neck as we set off. “No, Miss Daphne, don’t you worry your pretty little head about that.”

  I do wish people wouldn’t keep saying that. Pretty little head indeed. It sounds as if my head’s full of butterflies instead of brains.

  13th February

  Archie will be home tomorrow. Oh, it will be so good to have him back and not be lonely. What am I saying? I’m never lonely.

  Well, sometimes I do feel a little alone, but that’s not the same thing. There are Freddie and May, but they’re always busy having lessons, or going for walks or visiting friends. And Mimi’s usually busy with her work.

  Speaking of Mimi, I took her a posy of snowdrops a couple of days ago. She loves them, and sometimes puts them in her paintings (they never turn out quite like the real thing). I looked at her latest work.

  “That’s the one I saw the other day, isn’t it? You’re slowing down!” I laughed.

  “Heavens, no, darling,” she said. “It’s a different one.”

  I looked closer. “But there’s the fairy. Lalu, you called her.”

  Mimi looked puzzled. “That’s not Lalu, darling. It’
s Polan. He’s Lalu’s brother.” She glanced back at the painting, head on one side. “Yes, I can see how you’d make that mistake. They are rather alike.”

  I felt quite disturbed as I left. Why is Mimi painting fairies, of all things? Her paintings are usually so powerful and vibrant. She’s hardly a fairy sort of person.

  But today I don’t feel disturbed at all. Archie will be back in the morning. We can go riding together, and his friends will visit and spring’s coming and we’ll play cricket, and fish in the river – and I won’t need to bother about whether other girls like my company or not. Everything will be just as it was before! Except for the war, of course.

  Maybe Mimi’s anxious because Freddie must soon go away to school.

  14th February

  Mimi put in an appearance just before ten this morning, dressed for receiving visitors. She wore a pretty hat, which she’d trimmed herself with an assortment of tiny feathers.

  “I found them in the woods this morning,” she said.

  Odd. I hadn’t seen her go out. It must have been very early.

  I’m so excited at the thought of seeing Archie. Freddie’s beside himself, so Mimi asked Miss Rowan to take him and May for a brisk walk.

  When they’d gone, the most awful thing happened. Mimi burst into tears! I gave her my handkerchief – she only ever has painty ones in her pocket – and put my arms round her.

  “What is it, Mimi dear?”

  She couldn’t speak. Her sobs eventually subsided into sniffles. Her nose was running, so I looked away for a moment while she set herself straight. Then we sat together on a sofa beneath the open window while she composed herself.

  “Please tell me what’s wrong?” I begged.

  Tears welled again and she shook her head.

  “No, no,” I said, “you must tell me. How can I help if I don’t know what’s wrong?”

  She nodded, her mouth turned down at the corners, and fresh tears welled up. “Your father went away and never came home. He’s not here, and it feels all wrong.”

  I might have mentioned that all over the country there were thousands of women whose husbands weren’t there. Women whose husbands had gone into the greatest danger to serve their country, and who would never return. But I didn’t. It wouldn’t have helped.

  “The estate manager starts on Monday,” I said, trying to be practical, although I always feel tearful when she starts. “That means we’ll no longer have to worry about making decisions. Uncle Cecil has even agreed to go over the accounts every year.” I hugged her. “All will be well.”

  Mimi shook her head. “It won’t. Oh, Daffy, haven’t you realized? Archie will soon be eighteen. He’ll have to join the army. He’ll go to France or Belgium and – and fight! Oh, it’s driving me mad with worry!”

  My heart plummeted into my boots. My brother – out there, on that awful front line thing. Germans, shooting at him, trying to kill him. Oh, I cannot bear it.

  For Mimi’s sake I tried so hard, but my own eyes filled. Please God, make this awful war stop. Come home, Archie.

  16th February

  Archie’s back! He’s grown so tall – at least three inches since the funeral, I swear! He no longer looks like a boy, but like a young man. Handsome, too! He shaves practically every day now, he tells me. I’m so happy.

  The first thing he did, after being hugged to pieces by Mimi and me, and after being cooed at by Mrs Hallibert and Mrs Rose, was to go down to the stables to see the horses. Of course, I went, too.

  The new lad was mucking out Gulliver’s little stable. Archie didn’t notice that the goat was loose and had spotted him. He strode straight to the paddock gate to call his horse, Firebrand.

  “Look out!” I cried, as Gulliver gathered speed.

  Too late. Goat and Archie met with a thump. Archie was livid. “Look at my trousers – they’re filthy,” he yelled, though why he was telling that to Gulliver is a mystery to me.

  But soon Archie and Firebrand were reunited, and he set off for a wild gallop around the park, whooping with joy.

  When Miss Rowan returned from a second excursion to the village with Freddie and May, there were loud shrieks of delight. Archie leapt off Firebrand, shook hands with Freddie and ruffled his hair. He swooped down on May, swept her up and swung her round. When he put her down, she brushed imaginary dirt off her clothes and said, “You smell of goat.” Little fusspot.

  Oh, it’s good to have Archie home.

  17th February

  Archie was cross at breakfast this morning, because Mrs Rose doesn’t send up half the dishes she used to.

  When he complained that the sideboard was practically bare, I told him that it was on Papa’s instructions. There’s always so much left over (especially kidneys – ugh) and we shouldn’t be wasteful when there’s a war on. “Many people aren’t as lucky as us,” I finished. “There are food shortages, you know.” That’s because the Germans keep attacking our ships to stop them bringing supplies into the country. But we shouldn’t complain. Things are far worse for the French.

  Archie said I’ve grown pompous, and that if people were starving they could have the kidneys if they wished, but he wanted kippers.

  Freddie agreed, but May simply wrinkled her nose.

  19th February

  Today I suggested Archie and I might ride over to call on Elizabeth. I’d rather have gone fishing or something, but he doesn’t seem to want to do that sort of thing these days.

  “Actually,” Archie said, “I’m off to London to see some friends. We’re having dinner, and I’ll stay over at Eaton Square.”

  “Oh, that will be such fun!” I said. We used to stay at our town house quite often when Papa was alive.

  He hesitated, then said, “Actually, Daffers, we’ll all be men, you know. It’s not really suitable for, er, well – you. And,” he added hastily, “someone must stay with Mimi.”

  So. I don’t feel hurt. Not really. But it’s not the homecoming I’d imagined.

  And what makes him think he’s a man already?

  22nd February

  Archie enjoyed his London visit, needless to say. He brought me back a posy of violets, which was really sweet of him, as he must have felt a bit of a clot sitting on the train with them!

  Mimi’s working on a painting which, as far as I can see, is just fairies and little else.

  “Is that the rest of Lalu’s family?” I asked, expecting her to be amused.

  “Yes,” she said, without smiling, “and some of her friends.”

  It’s quite worrying, the way her painting style has changed. Mrs Hallibert, too, thinks there’s something odd about Mimi, although she doesn’t say it directly, of course. She just makes comments like, “Madam must be missing the master,” and “Wartime is worrying for a mother, Miss Daphne.”

  We’ve always been safe here in the country. We’ve never even seen a German Zeppelin, although Aunt Leonora has, and she says it’s the most terrifying thing she’s ever witnessed. Huge! Like a whale in the sky! But they hardly see them now, because our brave men kept shooting them down. They burn spectacularly if you fire into the gas that makes them fly, I believe. I don’t think a German plane has ever flown near us, so why it’s so particularly worrying for Mimi, I don’t know. Yes, food is occasionally scarce, as they report in the newspapers, but we have plenty here. We grow all the vegetables and fruit we need, and there are eggs, milk and meat from the farms.

  I suppose Mrs Hallibert means Mimi’s worrying about Archie going to war. I keep it to myself, but I worry enough for both of us, I’m sure.

  Maybe the war will be over soon – how much longer can it go on, for goodness’ sake?

  25th February

  Aunt Eloise is visiting. She’s actually my great-aunt, but Great-Aunt Eloise is such a mouthful that we all generally call her Aunt. I’m keeping her company while Mimi works, so haven’t really done much lately.

  We took Aunt Eloise to church this morning, and introduced her to the vicar. She rathe
r liked him, and you could see that he warmed to her. Everybody does.

  We prayed for our country, and for all our fine soldiers. I was in the choir stalls and I squinted across at Mimi, sitting in the Rowntree pew beside Aunt Eloise. She was flushed. I knew she was thinking of Archie and how he might soon become one of those soldiers.

  Afterwards Aunt Eloise asked how long I’d been in the choir.

  “Ages,” I said.

  “Odd that they asked you to step down from the choir to take the collection plate round,” she said.

  It makes me smile. When I applied to join the choir, they were far too polite to tell me I’m not much of a singer. But while I take the collection plate round, they have a chance for a good sing without me drowning out the people next to me! I don’t mind.

  2nd March

  I’m so excited. Archie’s invited me to visit a friend of his, about twelve miles away.

  “He’s got a corking sister, so you’ll have good company,” he told me.

  I can go with him this time, because Aunt Eloise will be with Mimi. And she has plans!

  “I’ll take your mother away from that repulsively grubby studio for a few hours each day,” she told me. “Get some spring air into her lungs and roses in her cheeks.”

  Good luck, I thought.

  4th March

  Archie’s friend, John Wetherby, is nice, but not awfully bright. I don’t know what Archie sees in him. His usual friends are lively and funny. John is, to be truthful, a bit of a pudding.

  However, his sister, Violet, is delightful. As they don’t live too far away, Archie’s invited them to stay with us next weekend. I look forward to seeing Violet again.

  9th March

  John and Violet are to arrive this afternoon. Mrs Hallibert is displeased because I wish Violet to have the pink bedroom, which is the best, and which Aunt Eloise vacated only this morning.

  “The bed will still be warm, Miss Daphne,” she grumbled, but I pretended not to hear and went to pick daffodil buds for Violet’s dressing table.