When it was over, Spence brought up the subject of more children. I’d hoped that he would do so, as I wanted another baby badly, and prayed that he would be in agreement. Knowing his feelings about the war, and our being apart, I wasn’t certain that he would want to bring another child into the world at such a time. However, he surprised me by saying that he would like that more than anything, if I was in accord. So, we made the decision to dispense with all precautions, and let nature take its course. I knew that the time was promising for me to conceive, and hoped we might mark that wonderful night with the creation of a new life.
We only had two nights together, and they passed so quickly. We spent our days with Isabella, and the nights without sleep, but we lazed about and slept late in the mornings. Still, it all ended much too quickly, and before I knew it, we were standing at the station again, holding one another, and saying goodbye. There were the usual words and endearments that lovers and spouses all over the globe were murmuring to one another about caution and care, and then he was gone again. I stood holding Isabella’s hand, as his train disappeared into the distance.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
10 February 1941 to 11 February 1941
An Unwelcome Letter
Things had been relatively quiet on the war front for that special holiday, but, it turned out to be only a lull before a storm. To begin with, on New Year’s Eve, the Germans chose to launch one of the worst attacks yet upon London. Thinking that they would catch the Brits in a down time, during the period between Christmas and the New Year, they seized the opportunity and flew their beastly airplanes, dropping hundreds and hundreds of bombs onto that already devastated city. The Blitz just went on and on and on.
Also, in my personal life, as if the war weren’t bad enough, it seemed that the Gods had much more in store. On 10 February, 1941 my father awakened in the middle of the night with chest pains. Mummy, naturally, fell to pieces. She ran to my bedchamber, screaming and crying. I groped in the darkness for a robe, and raced to the master suite. My father was conscious, but clammy, and his color was bad. He was having trouble breathing, and was complaining of pain beginning in his chest, radiating down his left arm, and up into the jaw area. The symptoms were classic of a heart seizure. I knew that he needed immediate assistance and quickly telephoned for emergency help. An ambulance was sent from Hartcliffe-with-Bedminster. The medical workers were superb, and in short order, he was transferred to hospital in Bristol. Mummy rode with him, and I awakened Edwina, Nan, Helen and Martha. Then I dressed. Nan, Martha, and Helen stayed back at the house, to oversee the children, but Edwina and I took my auto and followed along to Bristol. We arrived at hospital about one o’clock in the morning, and then sat waiting for two more hours. Mummy was beside herself with hysteria, and acted dreadful about the amount of time that elapsed before we were able to see Papa. Finally, we spoke to his attending physician, and then Mummy and I were escorted into his room to see him. Extreme displeasure registered on Edwina’s face when she realized that she wouldn’t be treated as a member of the family. I didn’t care a whit.
When we entered his room, the first thing I noticed was that his color had vastly improved. There was a nurse, checking his pulse and other vital signs, and he seemed to be resting comfortably. I leaned over the bed and told him that I loved him, asking how he felt.
“Oh, not so foul, really,” he replied. “Just very tired. No more pain.”
“Oh Nigel, how could this possibly have happened? I’m so terribly upset. Just all undone,” Mummy cried. “Please, please get better. I shouldn’t know what to do without you.”
“Mummy, please try to be calm,” I whispered. “Hysteria is not going to help him. He needs peace and quiet.”
“Oh, what the bloody Hell do you know, Sophia?” She shouted, turning on me with vengeance. “Just because you’re married to a doctor does not mean that you are one too.”
“No, that’s true Mummy. I was just speaking what seems common sense,” I responded. I knew that it would not be wise to argue with her. Whenever my mother was criticized, she turned on whomever was nearest. “I’m sorry if I upset you,” I added. It was always best to apologize. We didn’t need a rage.
“Pamela, please” . . . Papa murmured from his bed.
“I want a private nurse in here for him” Mummy said. “I do not intend for him to be left alone for one moment. I surely cannot stay here day and night. There should be a private nurse here now. Where is she?”
”Mummy, I’d imagine that private duty nurses are in somewhat short supply, due to the war. So many nurses are serving. I think we can manage if we all take turns, until we make certain that Papa is out of danger.”
At that moment, the doctor entered the room, and Mummy began to badger him. “My husband is The Earl Somerville. I expect him to be treated with respect, and I want him to have the best care.”
“Countess Somerville, we like to think that all of our patients receive splendid care,” he replied.
“Yes, yes, that’s all well and good, but you and I both know it’s not true. My husband is of the Peerage. That should count for something. To begin with, where is his private duty nurse?”
“Madame, the nurses in this wing of the hospital are all especially trained in the care of cardiac patients. He is not in need of another nurse. Actually, I’m very pleased with his progress, and over-all I think he is in excellent shape.”
Mummy raised her voice an octave. “In excellent shape? Surely you are joking? The man has just suffered a serious heart seizure.”
“Somerville did not suffer a serious heart seizure. We have conducted tests, and as best I can determine, he has some heart damage, but it is on the back side of the heart, which, if one has to suffer such a problem, is undoubtedly the best place to sustain damage”
“My God almighty! Heart damage is heart damage, you damned fool. I want a private duty nurse. Period.” She was now shrieking. Next, she ran over to a bureau on the wall opposite the bed, and picking up a lamp, threw it. It smashed onto the floor. “Pamela, please…,” Papa moaned again. Then, he leaned over to the table by his bed, and yelled “Vomit.” I reached over and placed a curved basin under his mouth.
“Countess Somerville, I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” the doctor stated firmly. “I cannot tolerate these antics, and you are upsetting your husband.” He took her by the arm, which was a huge error. She pulled away from him violently, and slapped him across the face. I jumped, pulled her away, and pushed her out of the doorway. Mummy was screaming and had deteriorated to complete irrationality. Several nurses came running down the hallway. I motioned them away with a wave of my hand, and steered her to a bench. Edwina was sitting nearby, and her face paled when she saw what was taking place.
“Mummy, you must calm down, this instant. Stop this right now,” I demanded, nearly as strongly as I’d ever spoken to her. One of the nurses ran over, offering me a glass of water to give to my mother, in an attempt to calm her. Mummy reached her arm out, and swept the glass to the floor. More shattered glass. Then, she rummaged around in her pocketbook and pulled out a small comb. She jumped up and literally attacked the nurse, digging the comb into her scalp, like a knife. It actually drew blood. The nurse screamed and drew back. “I am quitting this position,” she shouted, as she ran toward the nurse’s station in the hallway. At that point, Edwina jumped over, and taking Mummy’s arms, pinned them to her sides.
“Countess Somerville, that is quite enough,” she shouted. Mummy began to weep. I was delighted to see the tears, knowing that they signaled the end of her frenzied rage-state. Of course she didn’t apologize for her behavior, but at least she lowered her voice.
“I cannot take this, Sophia. I cannot bear it. I must go home. You will have to handle this.”
“Yes, Mummy. I understand.” I’ll stay here with Papa all night, if necessary. Edwina will take you home.” I gave Edwina a severe look, making it clear that I didn’t want any argument from her.
“Yes, yes. I’ll make some sort of arrangement. Just go on home and get some rest yourself.” With that, Mummy leaned against Edwina and the two of them disappeared down the pale green hallway. I re-entered Papa’s room, and sat down in the chair by the bed. The doctor was still there, and I apologized profusely for my mother’s deplorable behavior. He was actually nicer than I might have been under such circumstances. He just patted my arm, saying that families were often overwrought when illness struck. He promised to do what he could about a special nurse, but said that it would probably be the next day before such arrangements could be made. I thanked him, and set about making myself as comfortable as possible for the remainder of the night. Most importantly, Papa was asleep.
At eleven o’clock, the morning of the next day, a private duty nurse arrived, who seemed highly competent. She was an older woman, which probably meant she was unable to serve in the War effort. I felt fortunate that she was available and was terribly relieved when she entered the room. Finally, I would be able to go home and get some rest. I was exhausted. Papa was in quite good spirits, and the doctor who had visited him twice that morning, was optimistic. I kissed Papa goodbye, telling him that I would see him later in the day, and asked the nurse at the desk to call a taxicab for me. Naturally, I had already given my sincerest apologies to the injured nurse, who had gone home, but upon return said that she had reconsidered, and would not quit. She just would not have anything to do with Papa’s case. I couldn’t blame her. Things were settling into some sort of order and I allowed myself to relax a bit for the first time since Mummy had rushed into my room the previous night. Upon arrival at Willow Grove Abbey, I shed my coat in the hallway, and proceeded up the staircase, looking forward to a warm bath and soft bed. I encountered Edwina further down the hallway, toward her own suite of rooms.
“Ah ha, so you’ve returned. Thank God! How is Nigel,” she asked.
“He’s doing well. I feel optimistic. There’ve been no more chest pains. Of course the doctors are cautious, but things are much better,” I answered. “How is Mummy? Did she finally get settled down?”
“Yes, as far as I know, she’s still sleeping. She really is dreadful, Sophia. I don’t know how Nigel has coped all of these years. It’s a disgrace.”
“Yes, Sophia answered. But one might say that it has been his choice, then, hasn’t it?
“He feels sorry for her,” Edwina replied.
“Edwina, don’t be so naive,” I snapped. “Papa hasn’t left Mummy because it frightens him to think that secrets in our daft family would be let out for the world to see. It would also cost him an immense amount of money. He isn’t about to have to divide his holdings with Mummy, and there would be a horrible battle if he fought her in Court. Ever since passage of the Married Women’s Property Act in 1882, women are entitled to hold land and own property in their own right. Papa is well aware of that, believe me.”
“Nigel cares nothing for money. He’d give it all up tomorrow if he could be free of her. She needs to be put into an insane asylum.”
“It is probably true, Edwina that Mummy needs some sort of psychological help. But, no one in this family is going to commit her to anything like an asylum. It wouldn’t do you much good, anyway, would it? He surely couldn’t divorce her if she were to be ruled incompetent.”
“Well, then she should have a round the clock mental health aide at Willow Grove. He could just get on with his life without concern for her.”
“Edwina, I’m much too tired to get into a discussion about this. It’s a completely inappropriate conversation for you and me to engage in, anyway. This entire fiasco is so demented, and I’ve got enough on my hands without adding this to it. You may find that Papa isn’t so eager to continue his relationship with you, now that his health has been compromised”
“Are you accusing me of causing this attack?” She asked, incredulously.
“I’m not accusing you of anything, Edwina,” I sighed. “I’m simply stating the obvious.”
“I think the more obvious would be that Nigel may well reevaluate whether he wants to spend his remaining years with such an evil, disgusting human being”
“Edwina, you are speaking of my mother, and I don’t want to hear it. No one is more fully aware than I of her problems. I don’t need to hear about them from you. You know only a small portion of the whole”
“Ha! Don’t start that nonsense again. I think I know a lot more than you do.”
“Edwina, I find you pathetic. Do you think an orgasm automatically opens your mind to everything there is to know about a man? Or his marriage?” I brushed past her, with the intention of continuing to my own room. I was very angry, and at my wits end. I wished Edwina would simply pack up Kippy and go to her own family. However, she stepped in front of me, causing me to stumble, and take quite a nasty fall. “Damn you, Edwina” I cried. I started to get up, and felt a sharp pain in my abdomen. I’d told no one, but I knew that I was nearly two months pregnant, and the stabbing pain panicked me. I continued down the hallway to my own suite, and Edwina never said a word. She just stood there, looking angry because I had managed to withstand her wrath.
Once in my bed chamber, I quickly shed my skirt and sweater, which I’d hurriedly donned the night before, and Violet ran a nice, hot bath, while I had a lie-down. The pain subsided, and sinking into the warm water, I closed my eyes, letting my sore muscles be soothed. I was still shaken by the verbal confrontation with Edwina, but my mind was more appropriately drawn to my father and his illness. And of course, to my baby. I debated whether or not I should wire Spence and ask him to try to get a short furlough, and then immediately discarded the idea. It was really pure selfishness that even motivated such an idea, as it was I who desperately wished he could be at home with me. This was another time that I knew I had to act like a mature woman. I knew that this ordeal would have to be my burden. I’d not yet even told Spence that I was pregnant, as I’d wanted to wait until I was three months along.
After my bath, I changed into a pair of grey wool trousers and a blue jumper. The weather outside was dreary, with cold temperatures and mist. Of course the English heating, combined with war rationing, made for a chilly house, even though Nan and Perkins had fires roaring in all of the fireplaces. After I’d changed clothes, I went downstairs in search of Isabella, before I remembered that it was a Wednesday, and that my daughter was at school in the village. Thus, I changed direction, and headed for the kitchen for something to eat. I found Rose there, busily preparing a hearty stew for luncheon. She told me it would be about a half hour before she served. I grabbed a couple of biscuits and gobbled them down to stave off my hunger, and then wandered into the Great Hall where Mummy was sorting through the post delivery.
“Why, hallo Sophia, I didn’t realize that you were home,” she said, as she glanced up and saw me in the dining hall entryway. “I’ve telephoned hospital several times. All reports are that your father is doing well. I thought I’d go to visit later today.”
“Do you think that’s wise, Mummy?” I asked.
“Why ever not?” Mummy retorted.
“Mummy, your upset last night was really not the done thing, you know. Perhaps it would be better to wait until things have settled a bit.”
“My dear girl, I had every right to be uncommonly upset. Nigel should have had a private duty nurse, and I don’t intend to argue that point again. Sometimes one simply has to become upset in order to make certain that things are done properly.”
“All right, Mummy. I’m not going to argue,” I replied, knowing it was useless, and not wanting a repeat of the scene I’d endured only a few hours before.
“I should hope not,” Pamela replied. It might behoove you to learn to speak up a bit more yourself, you know.” I just nodded my head and changed the subject. Of course, I didn’t mention the recent scene with Edwina or my fall.
“Ar
e you planning on bringing Papa’s post to hospital later,” I asked.
“I am sorting it. He always receives a large envelope, forwarded from the London office, filled with correspondence addressed to him there, and I generally just toss it on his desk in the library. However, in this case, if something looks important, I’m pulling it out and making certain that it goes to him at hospital.”
“That’s a good idea.” I stood and watched over my mother’s shoulder as she flipped through the various envelopes, sitting in a large pile. I didn’t know how she could tell what was and was not important, but I didn’t ask. It appeared that she was pulling out anything that looked as though it might be correspondence of a more personal nature, probably assuming that his secretary would handle anything more business-related.
As I continued to watch, an envelope reached the top of the pile, upon which the address was clearly written in Papa’s own handwriting. I looked at it closely, and immediately saw that it was addressed to Edwina, at a Hotel in Madrid, Spain. It was marked ‘Hold for Arrival’, and had been posted during the time preceding Edwina’s evacuation from France. My mind was racing, and I knew at once what had occurred. Papa had obviously written to Edwina, assuming that she would receive the letter upon arrival in Madrid. For whatever reason, it hadn’t reached her, and after a protracted period of time, the hotel had sent it back across the Channel to the return address, which was Papa’s office in London. In turn, it had been forwarded to him at ‘Willow Grove’ by his office staff, and now rested in Mummy’s hands! I felt as though I was watching my world collapse in slow-motion. I watched silently as Mummy turned the envelope over and over, examining it thoroughly. “Whatever in the world is this? This is Nigel’s own handwriting. Why would he have been writing to Edwina in Madrid? Why would he be writing to Edwina at all?”
Willow Grove Abbey: A Historical World War II Romance Novel (The Somerville Trilogy) Page 36