Willow Grove Abbey: A Historical World War II Romance Novel (The Somerville Trilogy)

by Payne, Mary Christian

  “I wish they could have sthayed,” she said, looking rather sad.

  “Darling you have your little friends at school, and isn’t it nice to be just the two of us again?”

  “Yes, I sth’pose. But I wish Papa could be here too.”

  “Of course, darling. I wish so too, and won’t that be a wonderful day? Oh Isabella, he’ll be so happy to see you. To see how much you’ve grown, and how beautiful you’ve become.”

  “Yeth, and to see how beautiful you are too, Mummy.”

  I laughed. “You are such a precious, little girl. I’m so lucky to have you and to have Papa. We’re a very lucky threesome.”

  There was a quiet knock at the door, and I opened it to find my father standing there, looking rather pathetic. I invited him in, and asked Isabella to go and play in her room for a bit, while I spoke with him. Papa sat down in the chintz chair by the fireplace. “So how is it to be home again?” I asked, rather snidely.

  “Frankly, I’d rather be almost anywhere else on Earth. Nevertheless, I’m taking my punishment. Pamela needs to get all of the anger out. There’s a lot of it, and it will take time.”

  “Yes, I’ve no doubt that’s true,” I frowned. “You can scarcely blame her, Papa.”

  “No. I don’t. My God, we men can do stupid things, can’t we?” he mused.

  “What can I say, Papa? You know how I feel about this whole mess. I’ll never understand why you got involved with Edwina. Of all the people in the world, why Edwina?”

  “Sophia, she was there. She made it easy. I don’t mean to place the blame upon her, but that’s the truth. She was right there under my nose. Moreover, she listened to me. She hung on my every word... Treated me as if I am some sort of God …Made me feel special. God knows, Pamela has never done much of that.”

  “I know that, Papa, and I’m sorry for what you’ve missed in your marriage. But, I can’t condone the affair with Edwina.”

  “I understand,” he answered, but continued, as though he had a vast need to unburden himself. “It wasn’t just the attention she paid me, either. It was more than that. Sophia, I don’t know if Edwina never had much sex in her life, or just what, but she was an absolute wild woman in bed.”

  “Oh, I can assure you, she had plenty of sex in her life,” I laughed. However, Papa you shouldn’t be telling me this. I don’t want to hear about you and Edwina in bed.”

  Yes, I understand. I’m only trying to explain what the attraction was. She isn’t really beautiful, you know. I wouldn’t have thought that I would find her type attractive. Her bosoms are much too large and she’s actually a bit plump for my taste. But, still, there is something...”

  “Papa, the only thing I care about now is whether or not I can trust you to have ended it? I absolutely cannot go through any more of this. I’m still terribly disturbed that Kippy may be your child, and I don’t understand how you aren’t sick with worry about that possibility.”

  “I care very much about the truth of Kippy’s paternity, but there’s nothing I can do. Whether Kippy existed or not, I would still feel obligated to provide financially for Edwina. After all, I certainly brought her life to shambles.”

  “Papa, she had a choice! She’s not a child. We’ve discussed this before. You act like she’s a twelve-year old.”

  “I’m much older than she is, and should have been the one to put a stop to it before it got out of hand.”

  “I think Edwina wanted it to get out of hand. She set her cap for you, Papa. Can’t you see that? Didn’t it ever cross your mind that Edwina had to have learned her ‘wild ways in bed’ from someone else along the line?””

  “Perhaps. However, I owe her something and intend to see to my obligation. Particularly since I feel the only course of action that can be taken with your mother is to make her believe that it wasn’t a full-blown affair ….And that Edwina was totally at fault. It’s what Pamela wants to believe. She needs to believe that, in order to stay with me.”

  “Are you saying that you’re still not going to tell Mummy the entire truth?” I asked, with great annoyance.

  “I can’t, Sophia. It would destroy her. She already believes that Edwina instigated this whole thing … That she seduced and tried to entrap me.”

  “What exactly have you told her?”

  “Well, I told her that there was only one physical encounter. That I took Edwina to dinner in Paris, and we drank too much wine. She thinks that’s disgusting enough, but it’s much better than her knowing that this has gone on for years.”

  “You honestly think she believes you? She’s seen the list of telephone conversations, and read the letter you wrote. Mummy isn’t stupid, Papa On top of that, Edwina herself indicated to Mummy that you and she had numerous and varied sexual experiences.”

  “I can brush that aside by saying that Edwina was only trying to hurt her. I know she isn’t a fool, but because Edwina has been such a part of this family for so long, she believes that the telephone conversations were about business matters. And also about her marriage to Dieter. That I was giving her advice.”

  “Oh, Lord help me! So, now we’re going to have to live with another layer of lies in this family? Papa, why? Why is it so impossible for anyone to tell the truth in this family?”

  “I don’t like to hurt people,” he replied. “I hate confrontation.”

  “Oh, Papa! Did you ever think about not doing the things that cause the hurt to begin with?” I asked, in exasperation. I want an answer to the question I asked of you back at the hotel in Bristol. Have you been involved with other women during your marriage to Mummy? “

  He sat there, silent for a minute, and it was very clear that he was debating whether or not to tell me the truth. Finally he answered. “Not while you children were small. But, later, yes. They were simply affairs. They didn’t mean anything to me. It was just a way to escape my unhappiness. Edwina is the only one who really meant anything to me.” He fiddled with the glasses he was holding. Then, he ran his fingers through his thick, dark hair. Sophia, I’m going to tell you something that I have never shared with a living soul. I’m going to tell you the truth about how my marriage to your mother came about.”

  “I’m not certain I even want to hear this. I believe all of us have wondered why in the world you married her, if you had the slightest inkling that she suffered from such mental problems.”

  “I met your mother in 1910. She was absolutely gorgeous. I had never known anyone like her. Of course, I had been a bachelor for a good many years. I was thirty-nine when I met her. Since my school days, I had become well-versed in knowing the proper thing to say to women….what you young people today would call a ‘line’. I knew them all. The first outing we had, I escorted her to a Ball. As I was gliding across the dance floor with her, I said something I had probably said a thousand times to other girls. I said, ‘My mother told me that there would be nights like this.’” Papa laughed. “The truth, Sophia, is that my mother died when I was only eight years old. Of course, Pamela didn’t know that then. There was nothing terribly evil about it. I was just having a bit of fun.”

  I smiled. What he was telling me wasn’t terribly unusual, even by 1940’s standards.

  “I followed that ‘line’ up with another of my favorites,” he continued. I said, ‘Pamela dear, what would you say if I asked you to marry me?’ I’d asked that same question of hundreds of girls, feeling perfectly safe, because no girl in her right mind would accept a proposal on a second outing. Well, Pamela was different. She said, ‘Why don’t you ask me and see?’ I was only flirting. Certainly not serious. But, she had carried it that far, so I answered her. ‘Pamela, will you marry me?’ I asked, smiling, but certainly not in a serious tone of voice. My God, Sophia, she said ‘yes’. The next thing I knew, she had run to her father and mother and told them that I had proposed to her, and that she had accepted! I was literally trapped. In 1910, to have backed out of a proposal might well have been cause for a duel! I know you’ve heard the
story that my father had recently died, and I’d discovered that the Estate was nearly insolvent. That is true. But, there were many, many women whom I knew much better than Pamela that I might have married. Ladies of my own class. Pamela had what many people today would call a ‘past’. She had run off to Gretna Green when only sixteen, and married. Of course, her parents were apoplectic, and had it annulled. However, she was already with child, by the time they found out. The baby was adopted out, and we have no idea where she went. It was a girl. I didn’t know all of this until I married her. Anyway, before I knew what had happened, I was engaged to be married. Her father actually bought the ring that I gave her! The whole fiasco was most peculiar. He immediately also gave me her dowry, which was very extensive. However, she was lovely, and seemed to be well-bred, if not noble, plus she did have that large dowry, which I sorely needed, so I went ahead with the marriage. Not long after I learned why her parents and she had been so anxious for her to walk down the aisle. On the morning after our wedding night, she threw her first tantrum.”

  “What could bring on a tantrum on one’s first day of marriage,” I asked.

  “I wanted to make love to her. I awakened before she did, and I lay there looking at her, and admiring her beauty. Finally, I leaned over and kissed her, and put my hand under her night dress. She roared up out of the bed and shouted “Let’s get one thing straight, right now. There will be none of this shit in the mornings! Sophia, I had never heard a lady use such a foul word. I called her on it …told her it was most unbecoming … and she threw herself onto the floor, kicking and screaming. That was the beginning of over thirty years of pure Hell.”

  “Papa. This is amazing. You mean to tell me that Mummy has another daughter somewhere? That she was married before? It practically sounds as though her father bought her a husband. Surely they knew that she threw these ghastly tantrums. That must be why they were anxious to get her married quickly, before any poor man learned the truth. Why did you stay with her? Surely there must have been grounds for divorce.”

  “It wasn’t at all easy for a man to obtain a divorce in those days. Really, it would have been her word against mine. She was so terribly peculiar. Occasionally, at night, she seemed to enjoy sexual relations. But, never, never in the daytime hours. At any rate, before I had a chance to even think about the whole mess and how I should handle it, she became pregnant with Blake. I would never have left a child of mine. Never. I should have been stronger with her. Should have forced her to grow up. But, I’ve never been a terribly strong-willed person. So, I just tolerated her behavior, and went my own way, when it came to finding affection. It was easier that way.”

  “Well, this certainly explains a lot, Papa. I’m sorry you spent so much of your life in such a sad way. No wonder you worried about who I might end up marrying. But, none of this explains to me why you did foul things to me. As you just said, if you wanted or needed affection, I’m sure there was plenty of it to be had.””

  There was silence again. With a sigh, he stood and said he would be sleeping in one of the guests’ bedrooms. “Thank you for listening to me, Sophia. I’m glad you’re here. We’ll get through this, you know. Everything will be fine.”

  I stood too, and kissed him on the cheek. “Yes, Papa, we’ll get through this,” I replied, sighing deeply. He turned back to me before he left the room.

  “Sophia, you asked me why, of all the women in the world, I chose Edwina?”

  “Yes, Papa. I did. I’ll still never understand it.”

  “Perhaps it was because it was the closest I could get to you.” He left the room, and I could hear his footsteps retreating down the hallway. There was total silence.

  Suddenly, it all made perfect, if completely irrational, sense. And it was very, very sick.

  ***

  Mummy refused to let go of the affair with Edwina. It was as though it had a hold over her. She had draped herself in a mantle of martyrdom, from which she couldn’t escape. There was a wounded look in her eyes. Whenever I found myself alone with her, every iota of information regarding the affair was gone over with a fine-toothed comb. It was pure torture, because I had to keep straight in my mind the story that Papa had told her. I had to be mindful not to say anything that might signal that I’d had knowledge of the affair before her interception of the letter. She carried the list of telephone calls with her wherever she went. It was always in her pocket or handbag. She loved to study it. I occasionally wondered what had become of Edwina and Kippy, although I never asked. I was certain that my father knew, and was undoubtedly still in communication with her. Doing so, however, had to be extremely difficult with Mummy monitoring all of his telephone calls, as well as his correspondence. Still, he did have to travel occasionally, and there were also the Somerville offices in London through which correspondence could be routed. I knew that where there was a will, there was a way. I also knew that, at least on Edwina’s part, there was very strong will. I had almost no opportunity to speak with my father about Edwina, since he pointedly avoided me like the plague. I believe he was apprehensive about what the conversation might turn to if the chance for a private chat presented itself. He very much wanted to avoid any such discussion. I also thought that he strongly regretted saying what he had to me about the reason he’d succumbed to Edwina’s charms, as well as his involvement with other women, and his reasons for marrying Mummy. It was probably one of the very few times in his life that he was honest with me.

  Blake returned to his RAF base. I knew that he corresponded with Papa, but I never heard a word from him. Nor did he attempt to communicate with Mummy. As far as Mummy was concerned, Blake had been permanently erased from the family, because of assistance rendered to Papa after he checked out of hospital. Of course, that was foolishness, but then so was a great deal of what went on in our family. Susan, by extension, was also ex-communicated by Mummy. I didn’t know what Blake had told her, but I stopped receiving letters from her as well. They had two children of their own by then … Gabrielle and Emma. It hurt the most not to hear from Elizabeth’s two children, Blake Jr. and Pippin. I truly loved them dearly, and would never have done anything to destroy my relationship with them. Susan or Blake must have told them that I was a liar, or crazy, or God knew what. Their loss nearly broke my heart. I wished that I could have turned the clock back to a time before I’d blurted out the intemperate comment about Papa’s behavior. I could have cut my tongue out for having lost control. Nevertheless, it was too late for self-recrimination. What had been said, had been said, and in spite of my remorse, it was the truth. I knew that there was no way Papa would ever own up to it, and defend me. After Papa had told me the entire story of his marriage to mummy, I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. But, it sickened my heart that the father I had always adored, in spite of his behavior, had never really loved me in a healthy manner. I hated to spend time thinking about it, as it could make me very angry. I felt as though I’d been victimized in a cruel fashion, and that I was being re-victimized again by a conspiracy of silence. Therefore, I decided to pick up and move on. Papa could have solved all problems by admitting the truth to everyone, but he chose not to do so. I did hear from Drew, and it was apparent that he did not yet know of the confrontation between Blake and me. I hoped it stayed that way. Because he was a minister of God, the entire family tended to keep unpleasant subjects from him.

  I had a daughter and husband who needed me, and there was a war on, which seemed to grow more intense and widespread every day. I lay awake far into the nights, thinking and wishing that Isabella and I were far away from Willow Grove. That, of course, was impossible. If the Luftwaffe hadn’t still been bombing London day and night, I would have returned to Sumner Street, but there was no way I could place Isabella in harm’s way. My thoughts were continually with Spence. I wondered where he was each moment. Later I realized that if I’d truly known the answer to that question, I might not have endured. At nearly the exact time that I was thinking of Spence’s whereabou
ts, on an evening in May, 1941, he was in a Spitfire, somewhere over the Channel Coast of France. I didn’t know that at the time. Later, I learned that his aircraft, while engaged in a dreadful skirmish with a German airplane, literally exploded in mid-air. It fragmented into a thousand pieces. Spence was ejected, unconscious into the skies. When he awakened, he was on the ground, his open parachute beside him. That was only the beginning of the worst nightmare ever. I had no knowledge of this until much, much later, when I was able to obtain further details. A wire was received from the War Department three days later, informing me that Spence was missing in action. I was absolutely beside myself. Such dire news served to return a semblance of normalcy to Willow Grove, as attention turned to attempts at obtaining additional information. Since Papa was influential in government, I assumed that he would have access to information the average airman’s family did not have. I badgered my father unmercifully to contact anyone who could tell me something … Anything. Unfortunately, my assumption was incorrect. There was absolutely no way that he was able to garner any information about Spence’s whereabouts, or even if he was alive or dead.

  I alternated between being certain that Spence was dead, to absolute belief that he had survived and was, even then, making his way back to England, with the help of the underground. None of my fantasies came true. Day after day, week after week, month after month, I prayed, and hoped that I would receive some word about my darling husband. But, it never happened. It was as though he had evaporated into thin air. I continued with my volunteer work at the Red Cross, and the canteen, but my heart was not really in it. Nothing much mattered to me anymore, except Isabella, whom I told the truth to about her father, and each night we made our trip to the chapel, lighting candles and saying prayers for Spence. In those days, none of us had any idea how long the war would last. The RAF had done such a spectacular job trying to gain air supremacy over the skies of London, and the Germans had turned their attention to bombing other major cities in the country, including Birmingham, Bristol, Bath, Manchester, and of course, Coventry. Everyone said that their plan was to soften up our airfields and beaches, before they made their supreme effort … to invade England with infantry troops. We all lived in deathly fear of coming face to face with a German. There were always rumors floating about that a German had been cited parachuting into a small village, or on the property of some estate. Thus far, all had proven to be false. However, in August of 1941, we experienced a very frightening occurrence.