The Consequences of War

by Betty Burton

  Three years of war, two of which had been punctuated at frequent intervals by the shock of violent death and grief that never lessened with familiarity. Georgia never knew why they chose her – she had never considered herself as the type to exude sympathy – yet they always came to her office to pour out their misery. As they cried for their menfolk, she put her arms around them and wept for the women as they let out their grief and guilt. Awkwardly the first time, for Georgia had no woman upon whom to model herself. Alice Honeycombe, in priding herself on being a practical woman, had never known the value of offering a handgrip or an enfolding arm, preferring, ‘Sit down and I’ll make you a good sweet cup of tea. Best thing is to just get on with things.’ Georgia’s mother was not unsympathetic, it was that she did not know how. Georgia did it naturally.

  It was a grim time, during which there were few treats or pleasures to lighten it. The dance-hall and swimming-club had been long ago closed. Pubs, often short of beer, opened short hours; shop windows were empty; and women queued endlessly, for bread, for cake, for fish, carrots, shampoo, elastic and an occasional cheap toy. The only place of entertainment was the Picture House which was always full to overflowing.

  Then, after three years, came the change. Yanks descended on Markham.

  * * *

  Hugh had a twenty-four-hour pass.

  At the end of the day before he was due home, Georgia went into the preparation room where she knew Mrs Farr and Dolly Partridge would be alone working out next week’s menus.

  Normally, Georgia enjoyed being in the kitchens late in the day, but on this day she scarcely noticed its quiescence and orderliness. The place was scrubbed and warm. Tins and jars in neat rows, knives and pans in graduated order and clean check tea-cloths spread on preparation surfaces. A place of safety, impregnated with smells of foods, soap and clean damp floors. Mrs Farr poured tea for Georgia.

  ‘To me,’ said Dolly Partridge, ‘a twenty-four-hour pass sometimes seems worse than none at all. It takes you twenty-four hours to get used to each other again don’t it? Then, before you know it, they’re gone again. ’

  Georgia concentrated on initialling some forms. She had tried to sound casual about the phone call from Hugh saying that he would be home for twenty-four hours, but her throat tightened and thick tears welled beneath her eyelids.

  ‘I haven’t got those totals wrong, have I?’ Dolly asked. ‘I used to be good at figures at school, but I haven’t… Oh my dear, what’s the matter? Me and my big mouth. Is it embarkation leave? I never thought.’ She looked anxiously at Mrs Farr who nodded encouragingly. Tentatively, Dolly put an arm about Georgia.

  At the feel of the older woman’s warm, soft body close to her face, Georgia broke down into quiet weeping. Dolly held her, rocking, saying, ‘There, there. It’s all right, it’s all right, let it come out, it does you good to have a cry,’ until Georgia’s tears subsided and Mrs Farr offered her a tea-towel to dry her eyes.

  Eventually, Georgia heaved a sigh. ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I feel so stupid. I don’t often cry.’

  ‘One should never apologize for crying,’ Mrs Farr said.

  ‘That’s right,’ said Dolly. ‘All the time we’ve been working here, I can’t say I’ve ever found you moping about anything.’

  Georgia, now almost composed, tried to cover her embarrassment with a wry smile. ‘Stiff upper lip and a lot of fast blinking – it’s the way I was brought up.’

  ‘It is the English way, not a good one,’ Mrs Farr said. ‘As a child I was brought up to behave like that, never show your anger or anguish. What happens is that when one needs to, we have never learned how to do any of it properly.’

  Dolly said, ‘It’s took me all my life to find that out, and I might never have done if I hadn’t come here and worked for Mrs Farr. She said that everybody had a right to their feelings, didn’t you, Mrs Farr?’

  ‘We aren’t ashamed of happiness, why be ashamed of other emotions?’

  ‘Is it embarkation leave?’ Dolly asked.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Well, they don’t all get sent into the fighting.’

  ‘It isn’t that. I don’t think he is being sent anywhere dangerous.’

  Dolly remembered what she had seen at the Lyceum: Mrs Kennedy watched her husband messing about with a pretty young WREN, not just casual like Harry was when there was a woman about, but full-blown stuff by the look of it.

  ‘His whole unit is being transferred to some remote island. I’ve an idea it is somewhere off Tasmania.’

  ‘Goodness, what on earth is our army doing in Tasmania?’ Mrs Farr said.

  ‘It’s just this unit Hugh’s in. I don’t know what it is they do, but it’s something to do with noise – sound waves – not Hugh, he’s to do with personnel and accommodation. I’m not supposed to know, but Hugh can’t stop himself, he’s a bit like a child in some ways, has to show off… It’s very advanced experimental work… I shouldn’t be telling you, should I?’

  Dolly said, ‘With Charlie, Harry and Robbo in the Forces, my dear, I ain’t likely to do no careless talking.’

  ‘I don’t really know anything anyway, and from what Hugh says, they don’t always know themselves what they are up to, which is why they can’t risk doing any more experiments close to a civilian population.’

  ‘Noise you say?’ asked Mrs Farr. ‘You mean sound waves?’

  ‘I think they break things with sound… like breaking glass with singing.’

  ‘If only the human race were to put half as much ingenuity and resource into construction as it does into destruction,’ Mrs Farr said.

  ‘Well, at least he won’t be in the war,’ Dolly said. ‘You don’t want to upset yourself, why don’t you just try to forget where he’s going, and make the most of the twenty-four hours.’

  Suddenly Georgia felt an overwhelming relief at finding herself in the company of these two wise and kindly women. She shuffled idly through the time sheets, then blurted out, ‘I’m not upset because he’s being posted… I believe he’s having an affair and I don’t know how to deal with it.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Dolly.

  ‘A serious affair?’ asked Mrs Farr.

  ‘I don’t know. But I believe it is, and if it is, then I want to have it out, I couldn’t go on living with him not knowing… but how can I even broach the subject with only twenty-four hours, it’s too big a thing. I mean… you can’t just say, oh, before you go, are you sleeping with another woman?’

  ‘Are you sure you’re not just imagining it?’ Dolly asked. ‘It’s easy enough when they’re away such a lot… and you hear so many things.’

  ‘I don’t think so, it’s only a couple of incidences, but I’m sure he’s involved with someone. I just don’t know how serious. I’m sorry, look at the time…’ She began to initial the time sheets. ‘I’m keeping you; you don’t want to hear my troubles.’

  ‘You don’t have to keep apologizing,’ Mrs Farr said.

  ‘There’s not a lot we can do for each other these days,’ Dolly said, ‘half an hour of time isn’t much. There’s only Sam at home, it don’t hurt him to wait for his supper sometimes.’

  Mrs Farr brewed fresh tea.

  ‘I don’t know what to do,’ Georgia said.

  ‘What would you do if he had seven days instead of twenty-four hours?’ Dolly asked.

  ‘I had rather thought that I would just tell him I saw him with a woman and see what he said.’ She paused, then, having made up her mind, plunged on. ‘It was that afternoon at the Lyceum… I went back for my parcels… he was down below. He had phoned me the day before to say that all leave had been cancelled.’

  ‘There might be an explanation,’ Dolly offered but, remembering what she had seen, thought that his explanation was not likely to be a very honourable one.

  ‘I had already suspected something.’ Georgia gave a faint smile. ‘I always thought stories about people giving themselves away by talking in their sleep were a bit thick. He didn’t exactly do
that, but he once had too much to drink, he thought that I was somebody else. And… well, he’s different… changed. And he can’t wait to get back to camp – he hums to himself just as he used to when he was going on tour with the cricket team.’

  Ursula Farr, whose relationship with Niall had always been shared with another woman, always encumbered by a second presence, wondered, not for the first time, whether she would have felt aggrieved in Georgia’s situation. But over the years that she and Niall had been together, she had always known whose name and whose bed he shared. In their case, it was always Ursula who was the intruder into a marriage.

  ‘What if there is somebody else?’ Mrs Farr asked.

  Without hesitation, Georgia answered, ‘I should ask for a separation.’ At last, she had said aloud the word that had been struggling to find its way to awareness, i think… yes… I should want to divorce him.’

  ‘Even supposing you are right, that’s a big step to take.’

  ‘I know, that’s why I got so worked up. You can’t decide something like that in a day, can you? If I say anything, it’s going to be all up and over and we shall break up, but how can I do that if he’s off to the other side of the world, and maybe he won’t come back… If they are moving his unit because it’s dangerous to the civilian population… it’s got to be dangerous for the unit, hasn’t it?’

  ‘Couldn’t you just ride the twenty-four hours?’ Dolly asked. ‘Get through it and leave the sorting out till he gets home again?’

  ‘If…’ The two older women watched Georgia struggling to say something that Dolly guessed was probably against all the rules of her upbringing – the not letting the neighbours know your business. ‘If… I didn’t have to sleep with him… you know… I mean have intercourse… I could manage it, but all the while that there’s this suspicion hanging over me… well, I couldn’t bear him to touch me. But if I refuse… then I’ll have to tell him why.’ She studied her thumbnail scratching the table edge. ‘He… sort of… well, sees it as part of a marriage duty. It has never been very enjoyable for either of us. Oh, I don’t know what to do… it’s all such a mess.’

  ‘For a start, it’s not really your mess, is it my dear? Keep that in mind whatever you do,’ Mrs Farr said quietly.

  Georgia paused as the implication of that sank in. ‘No, it isn’t, is it? But I do have to sort it out.’

  A short silence fell between them, broken by Dolly, who said, ‘I tell you what I think – you should have the Curse.’

  ‘But it’s not my time.’ Momentarily she withdrew her gaze. ‘He wouldn’t know that, though, would he? I mean, I couldjust leave my Dr White’s in the bathroom as I always have done – to let him know. Dolly, you’re a blessing.’

  ‘You haven’t solved the problem, Georgia,’ Mrs Farr said, ‘only shelved it. If you’ll take my advice, these things are better cleared up than allowing them to drag on for years. And I’m not talking out of my hat.’

  * * *

  Georgia found herself observing Hugh closely. He certainly appeared not to have a troubled conscience and, although she continued to see that there was something changed in him, she wondered whether it was the style of his brother officers brushing off on him. The new Hugh was the officer of the tobacco advertisements – Erinmore, smoked by men who knew what they wanted – and what they wanted was women who admired them.

  He was full of his recent appearance before a selection board.

  ‘Brass Hats, Georgia. Ten Brass Hats. You never saw anything like it. Who’d ever have thought some Whitehall Johnny would have put a list of requirements through the mincer and out would pop Hugh Kennedy? If just a single one of them hadn’t jelled, then it would have been no-go. If I’d had an Irish mother, or had gone to a soccer school, or hadn’t got a pass in physics… I’d have been out! As it is… well, there’s no knowing where this posting could take me.’

  He had accepted the phantom Curse without comment. Georgia concluded that he was pleased that he didn’t have to perform. Saving it for her – the WREN with the long legs.

  Dog in the manger Georgia, she thought.

  In observing him, she saw what a curious situation she was in, finding herself married to a man who turned out to be a complete stranger. Was he always like this but I was too young to notice? Did he have a string of girls before he married me? Why did he want to get married? Was it because the rest of the team had got wives, and Hugh Kennedy wanted one too – younger, prettier, fuller breasted and with a lot of shockingly noticeable hair? There had been no doubt about the stir he had caused when he had taken Georgia to a Clubhouse dinner and announced that she would be Mrs Hugh Kennedy – the Cricket Captain’s wife.

  The leave sped quickly by. Then, shortly before he was to return to Badger Island, in the midst of packing, whilst strapping his cricket bat to his grip, he sat down and began filling a pipe. ‘Come and sit down, Georgia,’ he said, thoughtfully tamping down the tobacco. ‘We may not see one another for quite some time, and I have something serious to say to you.’

  She sat down and waited for his lecture about bank credit, paying the rates, not worrying about him.

  ‘I have thought of every possible way of saying this to soften the blow, but there isn’t any way. Straight facts, more honest.’

  He clicked his lighter and drew on his pipe and got it going.

  ‘And the fact is, my dear, that I want a legal separation. I have met someone I love and who loves me. She’s a society girl. Rich, actually, and she’s got a bun in the oven. I’m sorry. She doesn’t mind about getting married, so it’s all right for things to stop as they are. You can still be the wife and keep this place on until we come to some arrangement. Anny has money. And of course you would still have my marriage allowance. That way there’s no scandal. I’m sorry, Georgia, but we do love each other. It is happening everywhere – people falling in love with people they wouldn’t normally meet – the consequences of war, I’m afraid.’

  Two years ago, Georgia would never, in any fantasy, have imagined that scene. He must have rehearsed the speech and worked out the best time and way of delivering it.

  Georgia had always supposed that marriages ended with flaming rows, exchanged recriminations in loud voices with tears, which was what she had imagined when she had confided in Mrs Farr and Dolly. For many moments they sat in a silence that was broken only by his crackling tobacco. Then she got up and moved towards the door where her outdoor coat hung: she put it on, tied a scarf about her neck and picked up her keys.

  ‘I’m going out, Hugh. Just be gone when I get home.’

  Judging by his expression, he too must have anticipated something other than this composed exit.

  ‘You are a thorough-going shit, Hugh.’

  ‘Georgia!’

  But she was gone.

  By the time XJ-R6, minus ex-Wren St John, reached their destination, marriage separation papers were being drawn up by Georgia’s solicitor.

  Also by the time XJ-R6 arrived, one of Angela St John’s Cheyne Walk friends had wangled her a flight to Tasmania. There, money being no object, she set up ‘a darling little nest on the coast’ to which Hughie might come with ease from XJ-R6.

  Hugh Kennedy never did work out why it was, when he told Anny what had happened and Anny said, ‘Oh Hughie, you were a bit of a shit blurting it out like that,’ that he had been so shocked at Georgia’s use of the same sort of language. Perhaps it was that in Georgia’s mouth the description held some truth.

  1942

  ‘Did you know there’s Yankee soldiers in the town?’ Dolly asked.

  ‘I did,’ said Ursula. ‘I saw half a dozen wandering round. What lovely uniforms.’

  ‘Sam met some in the park, apparently there’ll be thousands when they all arrive. I expect that’s exaggerated, but there’s a big camp on the Andover Road. Sam asked these lads to tea. Lord knows what I’m going to do, I never met Americans before.’

  ‘Give them what you’d give your own boys, anything to fill the
m up.’

  ‘I didn’t really mean that.’ Dolly, unused to articulating her concerns was hesitant. ‘Well… people like us aren’t really like you when it comes to strangers. Ordinary working people just aren’t used to having strangers in their houses. Our house has only got the living-room and kitchen.’

  ‘Young lads away from home won’t mind, they’ll be glad enough to be away from camp and with a family. Ordinary American homes aren’t much different from English ones – plenty of them aren’t as good.’

  Having seen America at the pictures, that was hard to believe.

  * * *

  The young soldiers came. Dolly could scarcely wait to tell Ursula on the day following their visit.

  ‘Did you like them?’

  ‘Oh yes, they were lovely. No different from anybody else once you got used to the way they spoke. Bonnie didn’t care, she wanted them to keep saying things. They didn’t mind, and kept making her laugh.’

  Ursula Farr worked on, encouraging Dolly by gestures and smiles, knowing her well enough not to ask too many questions if she wanted to get the whole story. Niall could have made such a wonderful documentary film of the first meeting between the Partridges and the first Americans.

  ‘I tried to give a good impression. I used damed-near the whole of the family’s high days and holidays hoard of sugar and dried fruit and made cake and pies.’

  ‘I’ve got a bit you can have.’

  ‘Oh, I didn’t mind. It’d be a lie though if I didn’t admit that I felt a bit peeved when I saw my only tin of peaches disappearing as though they weren’t a treat, and the sandwiches with my only put-by tin of red salmon. I never expected them to eat so much. Poor little Bonnie, I had to rescue her a few slices for later. But I kept thinking to myself about Charlie always getting invited into people’s homes in Canada – it’s the least we can do.’