by Anna Jacobs
Phoebe didn’t have to think about that for long. ‘I think I’m a more active person, Beaty. I like doing things better than dealing with paperwork. But if there’s anything I can do, I’ll be glad to help you till I find a job. You might like to consider asking Maude, though. She’s not strong and she’s finding her job in the shop very tiring physically.’
‘That droopy little creature in the old-fashioned clothes?’ Beaty grimaced.
‘You could take her in hand. She’s shy but she’s not stupid. You’d be just the person to bring her appearance up to scratch.’
‘Hmm. You may be right. It’s worth a try.’
Phoebe went upstairs, feeling better than she had for a while. She wanted to serve her country, didn’t see why men should be the only ones to do that. And she especially wanted to help the soldiers who were risking their lives.
Like Corin.
Ruth came to find her half an hour later. ‘Captain McMinty’s here to see you.’
‘To see me? Not his aunt?’
‘Beaty’s gone out, so he asked for you. Men aren’t allowed to come up here to the bedrooms, so I’ve put him in the sitting room. No one else is there at this time of day.’
‘I wonder what he wants.’
‘I asked. He wants to take you out for luncheon.’
‘Oh.’ Phoebe could feel herself blushing. ‘Do you think I should go?’
‘Oh, yes. He can be trusted to toe the line. I wouldn’t advise it with some fellows, who’re only after one thing.’ She shook her head, smiling slightly. ‘You aren’t used to dealing with young men of any sort, are you?’
‘No. I’ve never had time, let alone I never met anyone I was interested in.’
‘Well, you’d better get used to fellows if you’re going to help look after them as a VAD. They’ll pester a pretty one like you.’
‘Even if they’re ill?’
‘Because they’re ill. They’ll have nothing to think about except what’s going on around them.’
‘Oh.’
‘It can be fun, you know, flirting. I may not look much now, but I had my share of followers and fun when I was younger. But I never wanted to get married.’
‘Can I ask why not?’
‘I was the oldest in my family. I’d helped raise six brothers and sisters, and I didn’t want to raise any more children.’
Phoebe wanted children. One day. After the war. Oh, she did!
Corin looked up as Phoebe came into the sitting room to join him. He’d come to ask his aunt out to lunch, and when he found that Beaty was out, it had been an impulse to ask for Phoebe and invite her instead.
For a few moments he could only stare at her. She seemed far prettier than he remembered. ‘I wondered if you’d like to go out to lunch with me? I’d enjoy some company.’
She hesitated, then gave in to temptation. ‘Yes. I’d like that very much. You’re looking awfully smart today, Captain.’
He stared down at his uniform. ‘For what that’s worth. They’re sticklers on the officers presenting well. But things are changing rapidly at the moment. There are youngsters of eighteen coming out of school cadet units, who are starting off as second lieutenants and going straight into commanding men. That’s not always a good thing.’
She gave him one of her long, level looks. ‘You sound rather discouraged about it all.’
‘To tell you the truth, I was thinking of leaving the army. I can’t do that now, of course. Have to wait till the war’s over.’
‘You mentioned on the train that you don’t always like the way things are done in the army.’
‘Did I? Well, keep that to yourself now. It’d sound like treason to some of the high-ups.’ He gestured towards the door. ‘If you’d like to get your coat and hat, we could stroll to the restaurant. It’s not far and I think the rain will hold off till later.’
When she rejoined him, wearing a very dowdy coat and a hat that wasn’t much better, he smiled at her, feeling better merely for seeing her serious expression, clear grey eyes and that lovely russet hair. He’d met a lot of beautifully turned out, but insincere women, to his cost.
When they went out into the hall, Ruth called down from the landing, ‘Wait a minute! I’ve got something for you.’
She ran down the stairs and took Phoebe’s hat off before she could protest. ‘Never wear that ugly thing again. You can keep this one. Beaty never wears it, because it doesn’t flatter her, but it’ll suit you.’
‘I can’t do that!’
Ruth held the old hat out of reach. ‘If I didn’t think you’d need this horrible thing when you’re trudging around the countryside in all weathers, I’d stamp on it.’
Corin couldn’t hold back any longer. He burst out laughing. ‘I thought the old Ruth had been tamed.’
She winked at him. ‘Not completely. Am I right about the hat?’
‘Yes, definitely. Do keep it, Phoebe. Ruth used to be my aunt’s dresser and she’s really good at choosing clothes that flatter. You deserve better than that thing.’ He offered his arm to her and they left the house.
As they began to walk along the street, she asked, ‘Was the old hat really that bad?’
‘I’m afraid so.’
‘It wasn’t my best hat. I had to leave some of my clothes behind when I ran away from the farm.’
‘It wouldn’t have mattered too much to me. The hat, I mean. Not as long as you continue to give me your lovely smiles.’
And of course that made her blush again.
Once they were seated in a quiet restaurant, he asked what she’d been doing with herself, desperate to talk about something other than the army.
‘Learning to get around in London, with your aunt’s help. It made me nervous at first, but I’m getting more used to it now. I’ve been thinking what I want to do with myself and I decided this morning that I’d like to join the VADs – if they’ll have me, that is. Beaty says she’ll help me get an interview.’
‘A nursing aide? Are you sure?’
‘It’s not exactly nursing, because I’m not a trained nurse. It’s helping nurses and patients with whatever they’re trying to do, and even driving motor vehicles. I’d really like to learn to drive a car.’
‘It’ll be a bloody business, this war, and if you’re attached to hospitals, you’ll see some terrible things. There are other ways you could help, ways that wouldn’t be as upsetting.’
She shook her head stubbornly, so he added, ‘Modern weapons carve up soft human bodies in dreadful ways, Phoebe. How will you feel dealing with men who have no legs, because they’ve been blown off, or men whose faces are mangled?’
He heard her suck in her breath and wondered if he’d gone too far.
She answered quietly but firmly, ‘I grew up near farms. I’m used to killing and dismembering animals. I’ll cope. Someone has to do it, after all. Such men deserve the best we can offer them, don’t you think?’
‘You’re an amazing woman.’
‘Me? No, I’m not.’ She fiddled with the food on her plate.
He changed the subject, though it was fun making her blush.
As they were finishing their dessert, he dared to ask her to write. ‘They’ll probably post me somewhere outside London before I go to the front. Will you write to me?’
‘If you like.’
‘I’d like it very much. And whatever happens to you or to me, you’ll stay in touch? You can do that through my aunt.’
She nodded.
‘I shall look forward to getting to know you better.’ Beyond that, he wasn’t prepared to go, as yet. There were hard times ahead. She shouldn’t tie herself to a man whose future was so precarious.
Not only was she still finding her way in life, but the world was changing quickly around them. ‘Don’t cut off your lovely hair,’ he said suddenly.
‘Why not?’
‘It’s beautiful.’
‘Red hair? I used to get called “Foxy” when I was little.’
‘Y
our hair is auburn. Titian hair. Artists love it.’
‘What a lovely compliment!’ She fingered a strand of hair that had drifted free to caress her cheek.
A few years ago he’d believed he’d lost everything that mattered to him on a personal level. He hadn’t coped well.
Perhaps he had been shown the way towards a new start. It felt like it, anyway.
When she got back, Phoebe decided to tackle her clothes. The other girls at the hostel had been urging her to bring her clothing up to date. She needed a few new garments, but would wait until she found out what she’d be doing before she bought anything. No use buying fashionable clothes if she was going to be working in the country.
The way the other girls talked about the world and men as they sewed together in the evenings was very enlightening. Some of them were very modern young women and others, like her, were fumbling into the new ways. Some were from comfortable backgrounds; others, like her, came from poorer families. But they all got on well together. Ruth and Beaty wouldn’t have allowed any quarrels or spiteful behaviour, she was sure.
Phoebe had been wondering about having her hair bobbed. It’d be much easier to manage and wash. But remembering what Corin had said, she decided to leave it long. She shouldn’t be thinking of pleasing him, but she consoled herself with the thought that it’d cost less to keep her hair long, because she wouldn’t need to spend money on having it trimmed regularly.
She couldn’t stop thinking about Corin, going over their conversations in her mind. He was above her in status, with a background so different, he couldn’t be thinking of courting her seriously … could he? Only some of the things he said seemed like hints.
She waited for Beaty to say something disapproving about their outing, but her kind hostess only asked how it had gone.
‘I hope you cheered him up.’
‘Does he need cheering up?’
‘Yes. He has done for a while.’
But Beaty didn’t explain what she meant by that and Phoebe didn’t like to ask too many questions about him.
She went back to her sewing after tea. She was shortening all her skirts. That would give her greater freedom when she was out walking, make her look more modern.
She wouldn’t touch the Steins’ money, of course, but she still felt a need to guard her own money, just in case she ever needed to get away, so hadn’t bought any new clothes.
Oh, face it, you fool! she told herself. You’re still afraid Frank will find you again. He knew a lot of people and she’d met some of them over the years, especially a couple of his closest friends, who’d visited the farm. If one of them came up to London and saw her, recognised her, she might be in trouble.
No, that would be stretching coincidence too far, and why should mere acquaintances recognise her now? She’d change her appearance and though you couldn’t change your face, Frank didn’t have a photo of her to show anyone to remind them.
Then she remembered that Cousin Janet did have a recent photo of her. She loved collecting photos. But surely Frank wouldn’t go to the length of getting hold of one from his mother and showing it around?
She tried to banish Frank from her mind, but even in the safety of the hostel, his shadow still lingered.
It only seemed to go away completely when she was with Corin.
The next day Beaty took her protégée to meet the lady in charge of the selection of VADs for the Red Cross in this part of London. Phoebe had the satisfaction of looking like a modern young woman now in her first shortened skirt, a woman capable of becoming a nursing aide or driving a car – or scrubbing a floor, if that was what they needed most.
Beaty touched the hat as they got out of their taxi. ‘Ruth said she’d given that to you. I hope you’ve thrown that old felt pudding basin away. I don’t think I’ve seen a more unflattering hat.’
‘It was my mother’s. I was saving money.’
Her hostess shuddered. ‘Ugh. A young woman has a duty to make the best of herself.’
As they went into the building, she said, ‘You’ll have to wear a uniform if you’re accepted. It’s rather dull, all the young women dressing alike. Still, the white pinafores and caps brighten the blue dresses up, and look quite smart and professional, considering.’
Phoebe wondered what white pinafores would look like when they were worn to help nurse men with bad wounds. They didn’t sound very practical.
The secretary stood up to greet them. ‘Good morning, Lady Potherington. How nice to see you again! Miss Rufford is expecting you. I’ll show you in.’
‘I do wish you’d at least call me Lady P,’ Beaty grumbled. ‘You know how I hate that name.’
‘It wouldn’t be right. This way.’
Phoebe hid a smile.
Rosemary Rufford was almost as beautiful as Beaty, and just as elegantly dressed. But she spoke far more crisply and her gaze was shrewd.
After introducing them, Beaty left Phoebe to speak for herself.
After only ten minutes of searching questions, Miss Rufford leant back and smiled at her. ‘You’re clearly a very suitable candidate, and we’ll be happy to give you a trial, Miss Sinclair.’
‘Thank you so much. I’ll try not to let you down.’
‘Of course we’ll pay you wages. No one can manage without money and you won’t have a rich family to subsidise you, as some girls do.’
‘Oh. I didn’t realise. Thank you.’ Phoebe hadn’t thought of this, had just assumed she would receive a wage. Would she be working alongside daughters of the gentry, then? They might manage without being paid wages, but how would they cope with menial chores?
‘Don’t buy the uniform until we’re all sure you’re suited to this job. We spend a few days training our VADs before we let them loose on the men. You’ll probably know by next week how you’re fitting in.’
‘Yes, Miss Rufford.’
‘And please remember at all times that you will be working for the Red Cross. You’ll have to perform unpleasant tasks and menial, sometimes disgusting duties. You’ll deal with men out of their minds with pain, men whose physical injuries are not nice to deal with. You’ll need to be patient and courteous at all times. However unpleasant the duties you’re asked to undertake, you must do them to the best of your ability and obey instructions at all times, especially from the doctors and nurses.’
She paused as if to make sure her words had sunk in, so Phoebe nodded and took the piece of paper Miss Rufford was holding out.
‘Very well. Report to this address on Friday. Perhaps you could wait outside for Beaty now? There’s something else I need to talk to her about.’
When Phoebe had left, Rosemary raised one eyebrow. ‘Not like your usual protégées, Beaty, my love. Where did you find this one?’
‘Corin found her in Swindon. She’d just lost her job and a man was attacking her. Naturally my dear nephew stepped in to rescue her.’
‘Well, she looks and talks as if she already knows how to work hard, which is what we need most of all from a VAD.’
‘She does. And … Corin’s very taken with her.’
‘Is he now?’
‘Yes. He hasn’t looked at a woman since Norah and the baby died. I was beginning to despair about him, he was in low spirits for so long.’
‘He’s always been a sensitive fellow. I remember him as a lad crying over that puppy of his that died suddenly.’ She gave her old friend a very direct look. ‘Would you welcome a young woman like Phoebe into the family?’
‘I don’t know yet. Oh, not because of her background. You know I’m not a snob, for heaven’s sake. It’s whether she’d make Corin happy. Norah didn’t, not really. I’d hate him to make another bad choice.’
‘Well, this lass seems very nice.’
‘Yes. I’m getting to know her better and waiting to see how things play out. Corin took her out to lunch yesterday and Ruth said he looked happier than he had done for a while when he brought her back, was laughing and chatting, just like in the old
days. Anyway, if this goes as far as marriage, he’s only following my example, isn’t he? I married way out of my class.’
‘Yes, and you managed brilliantly. I don’t know how you put up with some of the snobbery you encountered.’
‘I had Podge. He used to mimic the old dowagers and make me laugh about them. You’re never as afraid of people you’ve laughed at. He’d have made a good actor, my Podge would. And he was all that really mattered to me. I didn’t need their approval.’
Rosemary’s voice softened. ‘Not many people find even a shadow of such a great love.’
Beaty blinked her eyes furiously. ‘We were talking about Phoebe, not me. She gets on well with the other girls, and has an eye for someone in trouble. I offered her a job as my secretary, but she said she preferred to do something more active. Then she suggested a girl who might be able to help me, someone who was struggling with hard physical work. I should have noticed that myself, but I didn’t.’
‘It’ll be interesting to see how Phoebe fits into the VADs, how she mingles with our eager debs. There are more positions to fill than bodies to fill them, so we have to rush them through training. I must say, some of the VADs have coped remarkably well with the menial work they’re expected to do. Others have crumbled at the first serious problem or mangled body, and have found a reason to leave the organisation.’
‘Are they allowed to do that?’
‘We don’t want shirkers and sulkers dealing with men who’ve lost limbs or been badly hurt.’
‘I predict that our Phoebe will fit in well.’
‘Good. We need some stalwarts. Send her along on Friday and be prepared to take her shopping for a uniform later next week.’
Chapter Eight
Greyladies, September 1914
The front part of the house seemed to slumber quietly in the autumn sunshine, as if waiting for something, or someone, to wake it. Harriet looked at it with a sigh. She hadn’t so much as been invited inside since her confrontation with Matron over the old door.