by Betty Annand
“You mustn’t say that. We all have scars, and some are far uglier than yours. Only they’re inside, and you can’t see them.”
“What would a beautiful and innocent young thing like you know about ugliness?”
“I’ll tell you some day.”
“Tell me now.”
“No, but I promise I shall after we are together in India.” And no amount of coaxing could change her mind.
Tom’s scars bothered him less and less, and it wasn’t long before he was making jokes about them. “I won’t even have to draw a sword against the enemy,” he declared, “I shall just glare at them, and they will run.” What he didn’t divulge to anyone was that he had suffered a few short spells of blindness. Keith found out about it one day when they were playing rugby. Tom, who seldom missed a shot on goal, missed the ball all together and fell down.
The other players, thinking he was acting the fool, laughed, but Keith had seen the look of fear on his friend’s face. When he confronted him later, Tom confessed, but begged him to keep it a secret, “It may never happen again, and if I go to the doctor now, he may have me discharged. I want that commission, Keith. Then, if I do get discharged, I shan’t feel this has all been a waste of time.”
Keith, just as anxious to receive his own promotion, understood and agreed to say nothing, but he kept a closer eye on Tom from that day on.
__________
They received their deployment notice early in June, and were given a week’s leave before being shipped out. A photographer was hired to take a picture of their squadron, and if anyone could afford it, they could have individual pictures done as well. At first Tom was adamant with his refusal, but when the photographer assured him that his would be a profile, he finally agreed. The photographer was also an artist, and did an expert job of hand painting the photos, so that their bright, scarlet-red jackets, and blue pants could be appreciated.
During that week, Tom hardly let Gladys out of his reach. “I want to be able to close my eyes and see every bit of you.”
“I hope we are in India before your memory fades,” she said.
“Sergeant Major thinks we will have our commissions early in the New Year, and then it won’t be long before we are together again.”
“Maybe you will be able to come home for Christmas?”
Tom laughed, “I might not even get there by then.”
“Oh no! How dreadful. How far away is India?”
“Don’t you have any idea where it is?”
Gladys lied, “Of course, but I didn’t realize how slow the ships were.”
“I’m afraid we will just have to wait until you come to India to celebrate Christmas, and perhaps the birth of our child.”
They both found it difficult to forget their upcoming separation, which cast a sense of gloom on the days that followed. Sleep was needed, but resented. And the thoughts of leaving his father, who he might never see again, also added to Tom’s despondency. Two days before his departure, he and Gladys were in their kitchen. She was making a steak and kidney pie, her hands covered in dough, and Tom was sitting nearby on a stool, polishing his boots when someone knocked on the front door. “I’ll get it,” Tom announced as he jumped up. Everything turned black, and he began flailing his arms about trying to feel for the nearby wall when Gladys turned and saw him. “Tom, what’s wrong?” she asked anxiously, then reached over and took his arm.
“It’s nothing. I’m just a little dizzy—probably breathing in too much of this boot blackening. Just help me sit down for a minute, and I shall be fine,” he answered.
“Hello there!” Tom’s father called from the front hall, after letting himself in.
“We’re in here, Andrew,” Gladys called back. When he entered the kitchen, Tom’s eyesight hadn’t returned, and he kept his head in his hands as though he was still suffering giddiness.
“What’s the matter with you?” Andrew inquired.
“I must have sniffed too much boot blackening.”
“I’ve heard of that happening. You had better lie down for a minute or two. I’ve come to ask you both out for a farewell dinner.”
“Oh, dear, I’ve just got a steak and kidney pie ready to go in the oven,” Gladys said.
“That’s fine, Gladys, the celebration is for tomorrow night. I don’t suppose there’s enough pie there for me too, is there?”
“Of course there is!”
While they were talking, Tom’s vision was slowly returning, and he made his way carefully into the living room to lay down on the sofa. His father and Gladys thought no more about it.
__________
Keith had gone home to Wales for his leave, but returned the day before they were to sail for India, in time for Andrew’s farewell dinner at the Whale’s Tail. When Andrew said he was taking them out to a farewell dinner, he didn’t disclose that he had invited most of Tom’s good friends too, so it was a wonderful surprise. Tom was happy to see everyone, but saddened to think that there was a possibility he might never see them again. Many British officers had fallen in love with India and opted to remain there even after they retired, and he knew that may happen to him and Gladys. He looked around the tables as they ate and thought about how much each person meant to him.
He wondered who Willard Sawyer would find to take his place trying out his velocipedes and how many years it would be before his invention would make him rich and famous. Then there was Will and Enid Manson with their little one. Tom hoped that he and Gladys would be as happy as they seemed to be once their own baby was born. Thinking about it, he reached down and put his hand on her stomach. She covered it with hers, and they looked at each other knowingly.
Even Jane came to say goodbye. Tom was disappointed that she hadn’t been to visit Gladys again since he thought that Gladys could use another friend other than Millie after he and Keith left. Then he thought that perhaps she had stayed away so he and Gladys could have more time to themselves. Actually, Jane liked Gladys and wanted to know her better, but she was afraid it might jeopardize her friendship with Greta and her other society friends.
Neil and Laura Watt were there as well. Tom felt he owed them a lot since he never would have met Gladys if they hadn’t hired her as a barmaid. Surprisingly, they had left Pinky in charge of the inn for a few hours in order to join in on the farewell dinner.
Sandy did himself proud with his culinary expertise, and there were many jokes made about how it was a shame to waste such fine food on Tom and Keith when they were sure to be heaving it over the rail the next day. Since they had to report back to camp by ten o’clock, Andrew insisted that Tom and Gladys leave the party early so as to spend their last few hours together alone. Before they left, Gladys hugged Keith and whispered in his ear, “Look after him, Keith dear.”
__________
Gladys and Andrew were standing in the doorway of Andrew’s office building early the following morning waiting for Tom, Keith, and the rest of their battalion to march by and board their ship. When they came into view, Gladys, who had promised Tom she would be brave, couldn’t help but cry.
“Look here now, Tom will want to see a smile on that pretty face. It won’t do to make him worry about you before he even leaves the dock,” Andrew said as he took out his handkerchief and wiped the tears from her cheeks.
By the time the soldiers were close enough to be able to make out Tom and Keith, Gladys had her emotions under control. She was determined to give them a big smile as they marched by, but when she saw that Tom’s cheeks were wet, even though he smiled, she let the tears run too. She and Andrew sat on a bench for hours and watched until the ship was out of sight. Then Andrew took her up to his office and made her a hot cup of tea.
Chapter Eighteen
Tom’s father said that it now only took one month for a letter to reach India because the mail went by an overland route with the Egyptian Tra
nsit Company. He also gave Gladys an address in India where she could send her letters and they would be kept for Tom until he arrived there. Gladys was too embarrassed to tell Andrew that she had no idea how to write a letter, so she asked Millie for help. Millie wrote out a sample for her to follow then showed her how to address an envelope.
“Thank you, Millie, but what should I write about?” Gladys asked.
“You might tell him how much you miss him and love him, and you can even tell him about that old shirt of his that you sleep with every night, but do not tell him if you are sad or ill. I know he would love to hear about everything you are doing and about the people you see every day. Tell him about your garden and about the baby clothes we are making; happy things like that. You must never write about things that will worry him.”
She then suggested Gladys purchase a dictionary. From then on, Gladys wrote a little to Tom every day, and sent a letter to him once a week. Sharing her daily activities with him was a little like talking to him, and it helped ease her loneliness. Except for a brief bout of morning sickness, she had never felt healthier, and she refused to rest, which worried both her father-in-law and Millie.
Hard work, along with the generous number of plants Mr Grimsby gave her, made such a difference to Gladys’s garden that people came by just to admire it. Mr Grimsby was so pleased with her efforts that he kept her supplied with manure from his own stockpile. One day when she went to look at the border of flowers he had around the cemetery, she remarked that her favourites were the ones in front of his little thatched-roof cottage that sat in one corner of grounds. The tall, pink delphiniums and purple hollyhocks that leaned against the house were accented with a wide hem of deep yellow and maroon wallflowers. They made such a pretty picture that Gladys wished she knew how to paint.
When Mrs Grimsby came out and invited Gladys in for tea, Gladys was thrilled. For a long time, she had wondered what Mrs Grimsby was like and from the time she first saw their cottage, she had wanted a glimpse of the interior. She remembered how taken she was with similar cottages she saw the day she left Old Nichol, and how she had wished she might live in one someday. The large, elaborate houses she and Millie had visited on occasions didn’t impress her. As she looked around the Grimsby’s parlour, she could understand why. They weren’t nearly as cosy.
It only took a few minutes to realize that Mrs Grimsby was every bit as friendly as her husband and kept as tidy a house as he did a garden. All the furniture was thoroughly polished and smelled of citrus oil. The settee and easy chairs were covered in chintz with a white background and green leaves and red roses. The walls, except from the floor up to the plate rail, were whitewashed and made an attractive background for the family pictures.
Gladys felt like she had walked into Hansel and Gretel’s house. But the Grimsby’s had something in their sitting room that she didn’t remember being in the house in Sally’s story book. It was a piano. Mrs Grimsby shared with Gladys that her father had been the superintendent at a Polish piano factory and she had begun playing when she was just five years old. “As soon as I was old enough, I went to work in the factory, too. After a few years, I had saved enough to buy my own piano. When I came to live in England, I brought it with me.”
Gladys had never seen a piano before and was thrilled when the woman offered to play it, but first she asked if there was a favourite song Gladys would like to hear. Gladys chose “Home Sweet Home,” because that was the song she sang just before Tom proposed. Gladys sang along with the music, and Mrs Grimsby was so impressed with her voice that she played more tunes that Gladys knew.
When it was time for Gladys to go home, Mrs Grimsby kindly invited her back and surprised Gladys by asking if she would like to learn to play. Although she wanted to, Gladys said she didn’t know if she could afford it. Mrs Grimsby came up with the perfect solution, saying that since she could use a little help with her chores, she would gladly give an hour’s lesson for an hour’s work. Gladys clapped her hands in delight and gave both the Grimsbys a hug.
As she walked home, she thought about all the things she could tell Tom about her visit. Mrs Grimsby had a delightful Polish accent, and Gladys was amazed how affectionate the two of them were with one another since they said they had been married for twenty years. Mrs Grimsby had a habit of answering every question she asked Mr Grimsby before he could reply, but he didn’t seem to mind. When she got home, Gladys filled two pages with writing all about the couple. She told Tom that Mrs Grimsby was going to give her piano lessons, but didn’t mention how she was going to pay for them. She didn’t tell Tom’s father or Millie either.
At the end of every letter, Gladys drew a large X and kissed it so that Tom could put his lips on it and imagine he was kissing her back. She also remembered to send a hug to Keith knowing he would be just as lonesome as Tom. She usually read a little from The Hunchback of Notre-Dame every evening then wrote to tell Tom what she thought about it. Taking Millie’s advice, she always kept her letters cheerful. One Sunday something happened that she was sure would give Tom a chuckle.
Mrs Grimsby had suggested that Gladys share her talent and join the church choir, but Gladys confessed that she didn’t know the words to any of the hymns. From then on most of the songs for her lessons were taken from a hymnal, and a few months later, she was able to join the choir. The first time she sang in the church choir she had a surreal feeling of euphoria. Wearing a regal, purple-coloured choir robe, she felt angelic and holy as she sat down with the other singers behind the pulpit and in front of the congregation.
Then, just before the Reverend Mason came in, Tom’s stepmother, Rose, and his stepsister, Mildred, came sashaying down the aisle and into their pew. Gladys could hardly wait to see the look on their faces when they saw her, but they didn’t look up until the Reverend announced that he would like to welcome Mrs Gladys Pickwick, a new member of the choir. The Reverend went on to say that he would also like the congregation to remember Gladys’s husband, Tom, who was a member of her majesty’s army in India, in their prayers, but Rose and Mildred didn’t hear more than Gladys’s name. Their mouths hung open as they stared up at her and stayed that way while they turned to look at each other for confirmation then back at Gladys again. Nudges quickly went from one chorister to another until the entire choir was shaking with stifled laughter.
Rose and Mildred didn’t leave with the rest of the congregation, but stayed to talk to the Reverend. They didn’t see James Knowles, the choirmaster, who had stayed to choose hymns for the following Sunday and was out of sight behind the pulpit. When the Reverend asked Rose what he could do for her, she demanded that he ask Gladys to leave the choir, because she had recently been a barmaid in a drinking establishment and therefore not fit to be in church, let alone in the choir. Rose had never forgiven Tom and Gladys for the embarrassment they caused her by not inviting her to their wedding.
The Reverend, who considered the demand offensive, replied, “I believe Mrs Pickwick is no longer working, but even if she were, having to work for a living is certainly no sin.”
“That girl is not the sort of person we want in our church. She may have married into my husband’s family, but she is no lady,” Rose practically shouted.
“I believe she is just the kind of person we need in our congregation, Mrs Pickwick, and as far as I am concerned, she is as much a lady as any woman in this church.”
Rose began to see that she would have to be more diplomatic, so in a condescending voice, she put her hand on the Reverend’s arm and said, “Forgive me, Reverend, but I think you have been taken in by a pretty face. The girl may dress like a lady and even act like one, but mark my word you cannot make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear.”
Reverend Mason brushed her hand away. “Mrs Pickwick, if in quoting that old proverb, you mean to imply that Gladys is more like a sow’s ear than a silk purse, she could consider it a compliment. I am certain that God thinks much more o
f sow’s ears than he does of silk purses. Perhaps it is time you opened your bible and read Matthew 7:1 and 2. Now I must be going. Good day, Mrs Pickwick.” He started to walk away but Rose wasn’t about to give up.
She hurried to stand in his way. “Either you ban her from the church or you shall force me and my children to leave.” He started to answer, but she cut him off. “Before you say anything, Reverend, I warn you that I am well aware of the generous donation my husband gives to your church each year, and I shall make it my business to see that will no longer be the case if we leave.”
To her utter amazement, the Reverend just shrugged his shoulders and said that he very much doubted Andrew would do such a thing, but even if he did, it would have no bearing on who attended his church. With that, he pushed her gently aside, and strode away. Rose knew she had lost. With her nose in the air, and her mouth pinched, she slammed the church door with some force on her way out.
The choirmaster had an excellent memory and related the entire conversation at the next choir practice. Most of the members thought Rose’s threat was nothing more than a sham and were convinced that she would never give up her pew. Surprisingly, they were mistaken. Rose and her children didn’t come back, and no one minded.
Mrs Grimsby was amazed at how quickly Gladys was learning to play the piano. Gladys looked forward to her lessons. Because they had no idea she was doing chores for Mrs Grimsby, Millie and Andrew thought it was beneficial, because it caused Gladys to sit down for at least an hour or two a day. Andrew often dropped by to see if Gladys needed anything, and most times, she invited him to stay for dinner. Millie was also a frequent guest, and the stories she shared about her various customers, along with Andrew’s tales about Ireland and the sailors he knew, resulted in many lively conversations during mealtimes. Tom’s father hadn’t felt so at home since before his first wife passed away.