by Mary Wood
The trudge up the hill to where she remembered Harold and his mother lived tired her. But Ada’s determination didn’t waver. She had to know the truth.
It shocked her to see the big lad that Harold had been reduced to a gangly, gaunt-looking young man with one arm. She’d not known about the injury he’d sustained. After greeting him, she asked outright, ‘Tell me the truth, Harold. What happened to me lad? Was he shot for cowardice?’
A look of astonishment and shock crossed Harold’s face, but then he stood tall and said, ‘I’m sorry, Mrs O’Flynn. I would never have said owt, if you hadn’t asked. And I’ve told no one, but aye, Jimmy was shot for cowardice. Oh, he weren’t a coward. There was no one braver, but it looked bad, him shooting his hand off.’
‘What! Oh God!’ The impact of this last knocked her sideways. Her Jimmy shooting his own hand off – why?
A small woman appeared at the door and stood next to Harold. Ada assumed it was Mrs Smithward, Harold’s mother. ‘Here, Missus, I don’t know you well, but I know of you, and you’re welcome to me home. Come on in and sit down. I’ll make you a brew.’
Harold helped Ada into the small parlour with the one arm he had left, and she was grateful for this. It was an airy room, with its scant furniture lovingly cared for, yet it felt welcoming, which she was grateful for. Sitting in the stiff-backed fireside chair, Ada found that she couldn’t speak for a moment. Then the door to the side that led to the backyard opened, and Ada was shocked to see young Betsy standing there.
‘Hello, Mrs O’Flynn. I – I’ve missed you since you moved.’
‘Eeh, lass. I’m sorry. I had such a lot to deal with and – well, no time left on me hands, with the work at the factory and everything. Are you alreet, lass?’
‘Aye, I am. I’ve been helping Harold. After you left, he was me only link to Jimmy. We’ve been a sort of prop to each other.’
Harold smiled across at Betsy. It was clear that he saw her as more than just someone who was helping him.
‘I’m glad, Betsy, love. We all need a distraction, and I wasn’t there for thee. I hope you can forgive that.’
‘There’s nowt to forgive. I understood. Me and Harold, we ain’t . . . I mean, I still have Jimmy in me heart.’
‘I know you do. But, lass, you have a life to live, and I reckon as Jimmy would be reet pleased to know you’re helping the one pal as returned. Aye, and if owt comes of it, then the pair of thee would have his blessing, as you have mine.’
‘Ta, Mrs O’Flynn.’ This time Betsy grinned at Harold, and Ada knew that Betsy was going to be all right. She’d found happiness, and it was no more than she deserved.
A cough brought Ada’s attention back to Harold. When she looked at him, he asked, ‘Shall I tell you it all?’
Aye, please. Tell me everything you know about what happened to me Jimmy. God, it beggars belief that me own countrymen could kill me son.’ A sob escaped her, but she swallowed it down.
Listening to the horrific story gave her heartache beyond endurance. No wonder she had felt an affinity with the kidnapped lady, Edith Mellor. Edith’s kidnapper was a man thought of as a murderer, but she had now learned that he had tried to save her Jimmy.
Though it was difficult, Ada managed to keep calm whilst Harold spoke. She felt nothing for the murdered officer – he had got his just deserts; but the priest and the medic? Their deaths horrified her and made her think twice about admiring Albert Price. But more was to come, and as Harold came to the end of his recollections and spoke about how the lads of the firing squad were all injured and had come home, she let loose a wail that she’d been keeping inside her for a good while.
‘Eeh, love, I know how you must feel, but give over, or you’ll be ill. Hang on to what Harold told you. No one thought Jimmy guilty, and the corporal and the lads tried to save him. God knows where that corporal is, or the poor lass he took off with him, but he is a hero, despite him murdering them as he shouldn’t have. Our Harold says so, and he never lies. Here, sup your tea whilst it’s hot; it will help.’
Ada let go of the hand that held hers, a hand that she hadn’t even realized had taken hold of her. But, as she took the mug, the same hand came around her. Betsy, dear Betsy. She was a young lass with a heart of gold, who knew the suffering Ada was going through.
The mug burnt her fingers, but Ada didn’t care, for the pain lessened the one searing her heart, as it took her attention. Taking a sup gave her some relief and helped her to control herself. Answering Harold’s mam, she said, ‘You’re reet, only what that corporal did wasn’t the reet thing to do. That young lady’s family must be out of their mind with worry. I’m assuming you are Harold’s mam, so you know what it must be like for the mother of Edith Mellor – the lady doctor he kidnapped.’
‘Did you know the lass that was kidnapped?’
‘No, but I know of her. Me friend is a friend of the family.’
‘By, lass, fancy you having friends in them circles.’
‘I met her in hospital – she’s a nurse. All of them posh lot are trying to help the war effort, and this is what me friend is doing. She trained at Leeds Hospital and will soon go to France.’
‘Well, lass, I’m glad for you. You’ll need some friends to help you. And if them friends are in high places, all the better. I must say, I had wondered how it was you had come to be living in Leeds. Oh, aye, I’ve heard your tale. But, mind, it isn’t spoken of as a scandal. All the folk round here understand, after all that’s happened to you. That sister of yours . . .’
‘Look, it’s good to hear me name has not been blackened. But me sister’s needn’t be, either. A lot happened that led her to do as she did, and now she’s paying for it.’
‘Aye, we never know what drives folk to do bad stuff, but often it is sommat as they can’t help. I’m sorry, lass, real sorry for you. I was told as you were a strong one, and I’m glad that is so, as above all you need strength to cope with everything, and to find forgiveness – and not bitterness – for them as wronged you.’
‘You’re nice, Mrs Smithward.’
‘Grace. Me name’s Grace. And I like you an’ all, lass. I admire you. And if ever I can do owt for you, you only have to ask. You have me address.’
Ada left after receiving a hug from Grace and a real cuddle from Betsy, and she could feel a little happiness seeping through her pain. Looking into Betsy’s face and seeing hope there, not despair, helped that to happen, as did seeing Harold and Grace put their arms around Betsy as she wiped away a tear. Eeh, it is good to know that lass is alreet. In me grief, and in all that has happened, I have neglected her. But Ada knew that Betsy understood. And, though it was early days, she could see that Betsy was loved and would have a happy future.
As she’d travelled back on the train to Rene’s, Ada had come to a decision about her future. When she’d arrived back at Rene’s house, Annie had greeted her. ‘Oh, Ada, you look all in. Come on, me sunshine, tell me all about it.’
‘I can’t. Not yet, Annie,’ she’d told her. ‘How’s me little Brendan? Has he been good?’
‘Not altogether, but it ain’t ’is fault. ‘E ’ad colic, bless ’im, but I’ve settled ’im now.’
After looking in on the sleeping child and feeling the love she had for him, Ada had taken a bath, telling Annie that she needed time on her own. When Rene came in, she would tell them both what had happened.
Rene sat listening quietly, as did Annie, as Ada told them she’d decided that she wouldn’t take the job offered by Lady Eloise, but would instead move to London to be near Wandsworth Prison, where they had told her Joe was being taken, so that she could visit him.
‘I’ll look into starting me business up somewhere near there.’
‘What has changed your mind, Ada, dear? You said you would stay here, no matter what happened to Joe.’
‘I need to get away. I can’t bear all the reminders. Not now. And there will be those that point their fingers . . . Not just because of what Joe did, but b
ecause of me Jimmy.’
Rene broke the silence, ‘Oh, my dear, my dear.’ She rose and came to her, but Ada warded her off.
‘I can’t – not yet. I’m trying to keep me emotions contained so that I can function. Your sympathy will undo me. I know you care about me, Rene, but I need your help, not your sympathy.’
‘I understand, but know that I am here for you. And if this breaks you, I will help you to pick up the pieces.’
‘Thank you, Rene. I know that. And I know as Lady Eloise will be able to help me as well. I have someone to suggest who might be able to take on the position she was offering me. Harold, the lad as I’ve just been speaking of. He’s a good, kind lad. It will be hard for him to get a job, with only having the one arm, and coordinating the charity would be reet up his street.’
‘That sounds like a good idea. I will put it to Lady Eloise. And yes, you are right, she will help you all she can.’
‘And I will too, love,’ Annie said. ‘I live in a ’ouse not far from Shepherd’s Bush. Being in semi-retirement, I’m only called on now and again, when Miss Rene needs me. Though she pays me a retainer, bless ’er. Me granddad left me the ’ouse. It was given to ’im by ’is employer on ’is retirement, for years of good service. It ain’t far from Wandsworth – about five miles away, I reckon. You’re welcome to live there with me. And I could maybe ’elp yer by taking care of Brendan. Yer see, me and Miss Rene ’ave already spoken about what will ’appen when she goes to France. I’ve said that I don’t want to work for the family until she returns, but if she needs me then, I will take up me position again.’
‘Oh, Annie, ta. It’ll be grand to be with you, as I’d be lost in the big city.’
They chatted on about how the living arrangements would work, and whether Annie thought the area was a good one for a dressmaking shop.
It was Rene, who had sat quietly by listening to their plans, who answered this one. ‘Well, it is on Lady Eloise’s doorstep, Ada. I’m sure she will help you by sending clients your way, and with setting up the business. You will need a lot of money, so please don’t refuse her help. This is what she set the charity up for: to help war victims.’
‘But I don’t consider meself to be a victim.’
‘Well, you are. And if it doesn’t sit right with you to take the charity money for your purposes, then look on it as a loan and pay it back. I’m sure Lady Eloise would agree to that.’
‘Well, put like that, yes, I will see how she can help me.’
A short silence fell. Once more Rene was the one to break it. ‘I have news, too. I’m going into special training very soon, and that won’t last long. They are desperate for nurses at the front, so I will soon be heading to France.’
‘Oh, naw!’ Ada looked over at Annie. Annie hadn’t spoken much, but now a little sob escaped her.
Rene put her arm around her. ‘Annie, dear, it will be all right. You have your plans, and now you will have Ada and Brendan to take care of, so you will be fine. We knew this was coming.’
‘Knowing it’s coming is one thing; you actually going is another. I’m scared.’
‘I know, Annie, and I can’t say that I’m not. But I’m excited as well. I go next week, so you will be hectic, closing this place down and supervising the removal of my things back to my home. You will have no time to think about it all.’
Again there was silence. Ada thought she’d heard all she wanted to hear about France, and didn’t want to admit that this was the place the lovely Rene was going to. She would think of her as being on holiday – that way she could cope.
Rene interrupted this thought. ‘Ada, dear, I don’t know if this will be of any consolation to you, but I think the information you’ve heard from Harold will greatly help Edith’s family. I will contact them. To think that the man who took their daughter is a kind person at heart, who cared for his men, will give them hope that he won’t hurt Edith. They have been given very little information, and what they know suggests that the man suffered a breakdown and was in a poor mental state. This didn’t give them a good feeling, or anything to hold on to. Now they will have something. They will know that his actions weren’t those of a demented man out of control, but of a man acting in a manner to save the life of an innocent boy. Oh, Ada. Ada, my dear . . .’
This time Ada did allow Rene to hold her. As she cried, her world didn’t seem such a lonely place. She had Rene, and she had Annie. Who could feel alone with such wonderful folk to care for them?
And she had Joe, too.
Five years was a long time, but she would visit whenever she was allowed to, and she would throw herself into her work. She’d cling on to the courage she knew Edith had, and let that help her. She’d get by. She had to.
19
Eloise
Holland Park, London, and Rossworth Hall,
Leicestershire, Christmas 1916
The past catches up
Gazing around the ballroom, Eloise thought how wonderful it looked. Despite everything that had happened, a little Christmas spirit and joy seeped into her. This was the only part of their house in London that Father had allowed to be decorated this year. Though there were to be no family parties, the servants’ ball had taken place the night before, and tonight would be Eloise’s charity ball.
Most of London society that she’d invited had said they would attend. This would be the last event of the season’s calendar before they all left to go to their country homes for the Christmas season. Tomorrow the servants would begin the task of packing for her family’s move to Rossworth Hall, in Leicestershire. Once there, she would see Jay – something she was looking forward to more than she ever thought she would.
It had both shocked and pleased her when her father had said they would go to Leicestershire for Christmas and New Year, which was a tradition and was usually a wonderful time, as she’d thought her parents might not have wanted to go there this year, given recent memories.
She thought about the village ball, when all the locals were invited to the Hall and a bonfire was lit. She could almost smell the aroma of delicious roasted chestnuts mingling with that of the branches and garden waste burning brightly and lighting the sky.
Mother and Father would give a present to each of the children at the ball, and a hamper to each family. Then the young girls would come in, led by Christian and Douglas holding her own and Andrina’s hands and Daddy taking Edith’s, before the young men would dance with them. Oh, they were such wonderful, innocent times. Where did they go? Andrina is now lost forever. And Edith, Christian and Douglas . . . I want you all home safely. Please, God, please bring them home.
This year there were to be no parties, and Eloise had been tasked with distributing the toys and hampers in the village hall the day before Christmas Eve. Jay had promised to help.
Something in her lifted at the thought of this. Over the last couple of months, since she first heard the truth about Jay, their friendship had deepened. Letters had gone to and fro between them, and she had made a couple of visits to see him. His health had improved and he was now almost as strong as he had been. He hadn’t returned to his job. Instead he’d helped her with her charity, seeking out returning wounded and the bereaved, to see if they needed any assistance.
Jay had surprised her. Her impression of him, before she knew him properly, had been of someone uneducated and a little simple. But now she found him full of fun and very intelligent. He had taught himself such a lot from books. But then she should have realized how clever he was, for hadn’t he taught himself to speak just by lip-reading, despite never having heard a word spoken in his entire life?
He did a wonderful job for the charity and, because of his own affliction, he was accepted by those who had been wounded and bereaved. Being accepted was something she found difficult herself. By most of those she tried to help she was looked upon as ‘one of those born with a silver spoon, who can’t possibly know what it feels like to be in need – a do-gooder’. So she concentrated on rai
sing the money required, and had coordinators working in most areas of England, especially London, where there were three people working flat out, due to the bombing raids carried out by the Zeppelins, which had devastated certain areas and caused much loss of life. The coordinators’ salaries were a massive drain on the charity, and something that the committee she had formed objected to. But she always found a way to reassure them, explaining that the majority of employees were soldiers who had no hope of getting another job, due to their injuries, which meant that the charity was helping them to help themselves and to help others! It all made sense to her. She was particularly pleased with Harold Smithward, who had been recommended by Ada. He was a gem, and in the few days since it had been agreed that he was a good choice for the job, he had already submitted his ideas for many new projects that would benefit the stricken Low Moor area. Ada had let Eloise know about them by telephone from Rene’s house, before she had left for London.
Thinking of Ada, Eloise wondered how she was settling in. It had been a few days since Ada and Annie had arrived in London, but they had been busy days for Eloise and she had found no time to visit them. She would put that right today. Everything was organized for tonight: her gown was laid out for her on her bed, a chiffon, soft green-coloured, ankle-length creation, with peacock feathers printed on it, giving it a vibrancy that she loved. Her hair was already styled, so she would just have a quick bath, then half an hour for her maid to dress her and to apply some make-up, and she would be ready in plenty of time.
Ada opened the door to Eloise and greeted her in a way that Eloise loved. ‘By, Lady Eloise! Eeh, it’s good to see you – come on in.’
Somehow Ada made you feel loved. Just as Annie did. They were two women from opposite ends of the country, and yet similar in nature: down-to-earth, strong women who took all that life threw at them and got back up and tackled whatever it had in store. She so admired them and was lifted by being in their presence.
Giving a little bob curtsey, Annie gave Eloise a welcome that was just as breezy. ‘Oh, M’lady, fancy you comin’ fer a visit. Sit down and I’ll make a cuppa – or a “pot”, as Ada calls it.’