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No Place for a Woman

Page 16

by Val Wood


  William patted her shoulder and murmured something comforting and she knew that, as always, he had been thinking of her. His consideration of her feelings and desires had always been resolute, as steadfast as those for his own daughter and Oswald. She thought how lucky she had been.

  But although William was pleased to know that they would be staying in Baker Street, he suggested to Nora that perhaps they should buy a small house as an investment, with a view to his retirement. ‘It’s still difficult for women doctors,’ he said, ‘and although at the moment Lucy has no money worries, who knows what the future holds. If we purchase a house for ourselves we can rent it out for an income until such time as we might need it. After all, one day there will be just the two of us if Eleanor should marry.’ He sighed and murmured that their family was growing up far too fast.

  Nora pointed out practically that Eleanor was a long way from being of an age to marry as she was not yet fifteen, and Lucy would not marry until after she had qualified. ‘She’s wholeheartedly committed to becoming a doctor,’ she said, but she agreed with him that it was a good idea that they should look for a house of their own. There was no hurry to purchase, but they kept a keen eye on the properties for sale, including one in Pearson Park which overlooked the delightful gardens and lake.

  William, however, also had other matters on his mind. As a man who always kept abreast of what was happening in the British business world and of European events too, he was not happy about what was going on politically in many countries abroad. Of particular concern was the unrest in the various alliances that had sprung up over many decades as great nations sought to expand their territories. Britain and Germany had begun a fevered arms race to build more ships and become the supreme naval power, and Britain, to protect itself, allied with Russia and France in opposition to the triple union of the German, Austro-Hungarian and Italian treaty, an association which had begun to unravel when Italy signed a secret treaty with France.

  ‘It’s not looking healthy,’ William had debated with his fellows at his club. ‘I don’t like the look of it at all. It only needs a spark from some hot-headed imperialist or nationalist, you can take your pick which one, and conflagration will occur across the whole of the European continent and we’ll be drawn in too.’

  Some of the more prosaic gentlemen disagreed and remarked to one another that he was a brooding pessimist, saying that if other countries wanted to fight then let them but that Britain needn’t; others, more rational and far-seeing, agreed with William that Britain would inevitably be drawn into a European conflict.

  ‘Why are we building so many ships if it’s not to prepare ourselves?’ one of the men asked during a heated debate. ‘We are an island nation and in a vulnerable position, ripe for attack on our shores. We should prepare for every eventuality.’

  ‘Nonsense,’ barked another. ‘The Balkan question has been settled; the only worries we have now are with the damned Scots and Irish, and the unions,’ he added tetchily, ‘and those hysterical suffragette women who deserve a damned whipping if you ask me.’

  Nobody did ask him, however, and the meeting broke up leaving many disgruntled but many more anxious for the future, including William, who had set the ball rolling in the debate.

  Both Lucy and Oswald were home for the weekend of 27 and 28 June. The weather was glorious and the four of them – for Eleanor was still away at school – took a walk in Pearson Park on the Sunday. William and Nora showed Lucy and Oswald the house they were thinking of buying for William’s eventual retirement, as he explained it to Lucy, who glanced sideways at her uncle and shook her head at the mere thought of it.

  ‘But it does look very nice,’ she agreed. ‘And how lovely to have the lake and the grass and flower beds right there in front of your window.’

  ‘And no work to do in it,’ Oswald remarked. ‘No digging or grass cutting. The park gardener will do it for you.’

  ‘Exactly!’ William said, whilst Nora said she wouldn’t mind planting a few bulbs and shrubs in the small front garden.

  ‘You should buy it, then, Uncle, if you really like it,’ Lucy said. ‘Aunt Nora likes it, don’t you?’

  ‘I do,’ Nora said, ‘but we’re looking to the future, not for now.’

  ‘Hmm,’ William murmured. ‘Whatever the future brings.’

  Lucy and Oswald were to take the same train to Leeds on the Monday morning for the first part of their journey, before continuing on their separate journeys. Oswald dashed away to buy a newspaper from the seller who was standing outside the Paragon concourse shouting hoarsely, ‘Read all about it! Archduke assassinated!’ whilst around him many men were clustered, all speaking animatedly.

  ‘What’s happening?’ Lucy asked when he came back reading the front page of his paper. ‘Why are there so many people buying the newspapers?’

  Oswald didn’t answer for a minute; then he looked up, opened his mouth and took a breath. He took her elbow and said, ‘Something momentous has happened. Come on, or we’ll miss the train. We’ll read it once we’re aboard.’

  The train was packed with passengers, mainly men in their business suits and top hats or bowlers, but many women too; Lucy and Oswald managed to obtain seats together. Many of the men were carrying newspapers and mutterings and exclamations were being exchanged. Those without a newspaper were leaning over the shoulders of those who had.

  ‘The heir to the throne of Austria-Hungary, Archduke Franz Ferdinand, and his wife Sophie have been killed during a visit to the Bosnian city of Sarajevo,’ Oswald read out in a low voice. ‘The assassin, who was immediately captured and arrested, was Bosnian-Serb patriot Gavrilo Princip, aged nineteen. That’s his life over and done with, and who knows what can of worms has been opened?’

  ‘Why were they killed?’ Lucy asked. ‘Why were they in Sarajevo anyway?’

  ‘He was meant to be inspecting the troops, so it says,’ he murmured, reading on. ‘The country is annexed to the Austrian empire, yet both Bosnia and Serbia want to form their own Balkan state. It’s a troubled state of affairs that has been simmering for years.’ He turned to her. ‘If Austria retaliates over this atrocity and Germany goes to their assistance, the whole thing will escalate; Serbia will call on Russia for help and before we realize it …’

  Lucy frowned. ‘We’ll be at war,’ she murmured. ‘We’ll be totally involved.’

  Oswald took off his spectacles and rubbed his eyes before answering. ‘I rather think so,’ he said softly. ‘If Germany joins forces with Austria, France will retaliate.’ They looked at one another and both nodded in total agreement. ‘And unless a solution is agreed on we’ll be duty bound to support them.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  William, not a man who normally used obscenities, nevertheless swore beneath his breath, as exactly a month after the assassinations he read in the following day’s Telegraph that the Austria-Hungary alliance had declared war on Serbia.

  ‘It’s going to be all-out war, mark my words,’ he told Nora and Eleanor at breakfast. ‘We’ll all be involved sooner or later.’

  ‘Papa?’ Eleanor spoke across the table. ‘If there’s a war I won’t have to leave school, will I? I really want to stay on and finish my art studies.’

  Eleanor was developing into an accomplished artist, designer and seamstress and had said she would like to continue with art as a career. She was turning out to be a positive young woman.

  Nora paused with a coffee cup in her hand. ‘Surely we won’t be affected?’ she objected. ‘It’s nothing to do with us.’

  ‘I’m afraid that it will be, my dear,’ William told her. ‘If France and our other allies become involved, which to me seems in–evitable, then so will we be, together with our colonies. I’ve seen this coming for some time now. Why didn’t our men in power see it?’ He gave a cynical grimace and muttered, ‘Maybe they did. But no,’ he added directly to Eleanor, ‘of course you won’t have to leave school.’ He smiled. ‘We want you to achieve success as much as y
ou do.’

  A few days later Lucy wrote to say she’d decided not to celebrate her birthday. It doesn’t seem appropriate, having heard the latest news, she wrote. My birthday falls on a Monday so if I can get home for the Friday prior to that, I’ll travel back to London on the Sunday. Could we just have a small tea for the family and perhaps Eleanor and I can once more share our birthdays?

  Eleanor was delighted with the idea; she adored Lucy and regarded her more as a sister than a cousin.

  Rather reluctantly, William and Nora agreed, but it turned out to be fitting, as in less than a week Germany and the Ottoman Empire had formed an alliance and a British naval vessel was sunk by German mines in the North Sea; Germany declared war on France and invaded Britain’s ally Belgium, taking the city of Liège, and leaving Britain no option but to declare war with Germany. The Austrian army invaded Poland and on the Eastern Front the Russian army began to advance.

  The speed of events left everyone breathless. Within days they heard that hundreds of troops were arriving on the east coast and being billeted in the villages of Kilnsea and Easington, east of Hull, with the sole purpose of protecting the Spurn Point headland from attack by sea, whilst the small market town of Hedon became a garrison town for men and horses.

  ‘I’m very worried,’ Nora told her friend and confidante Sarah Walker. ‘I’m afraid for my son; will he have to join the military? He’s a scientist, not a soldier!’

  ‘I shouldn’t think so for a moment,’ Mrs Walker replied, patting her arm. ‘Don’t worry about it. I read in the newspaper that it’s a flash in the pan, a lot of hotheads talking about war, and that it will all be resolved by Christmas.’

  William shook his head when Nora told him this. ‘She’s mistaken. It’s happening,’ he told his wife in a voice devoid of emotion as he read the headlines. He looked up. ‘I didn’t tell you before, but I cut down Bond Street on my way home from the bank the other evening. A troop of East Yorkshire Cavalry were waiting on horseback outside Kayes’ tool shop. I stopped to enquire why they were there.’ He took a short sharp breath. ‘One of the men said they were waiting to have their bayonets and swords sharpened.’

  Nora put her hands to her mouth and waited for him to continue.

  ‘They were all in a very cheerful mood. The soldier who was speaking to me said they couldn’t wait to go and fight the Hun, and as soon as the sharpening was finished they were heading off down to the docks to board a ship to take them on their way to Flanders. God help them,’ he muttered. ‘The tentacles of war are spreading wider and wider. I might be considered to be a purveyor of gloom’ – he shook his head – ‘but believe me, the world is well and truly at war.’

  Oswald had come home to Hull to celebrate Lucy’s and Eleanor’s birthdays. He brought Eleanor a box of pastels, which thrilled her, and for Lucy a posy of silk flowers. ‘They’ll never die,’ he told her. ‘The colours might fade but the petals will never fall.’ He’d kissed her cheek as he said it and she felt moved to tears.

  ‘You’re an independent young woman now,’ her uncle said, and symbolically handed her a key. ‘You can do whatever you’ve a mind to without asking permission; providing it’s legal,’ he added jovially.

  ‘I know,’ she said solemnly, ‘but I don’t ever remember being restricted before in whatever I wanted to do. I’ve been guided so kindly and well, and I thank you for that, both of you.’ She included Nora in her little speech. ‘I’ve been blessed.’

  She took the time to visit Edie’s mother whilst she was home and found her beset by worries over her sons; both Stanley and Joshua were already abroad with their regiment. Stanley had gone to Serbia, but she didn’t know where Josh was. Charlie badly wanted to join up too, but both his parents were doing their best to persuade him to stay with the railway company and train as an engine driver like his brother Bob.

  ‘I wish our Edie would come home,’ Dolly said, wiping her eyes as they filled with tears. ‘She could get a job at ’Infirmary easy as can be. She’s done so well with all her exams. I don’t want her to be away wi’ all what’s going on. I can do nowt about my lads, but I don’t want our Edie to be away as well.’

  ‘You’ve still got Ada here,’ Lucy said gently. ‘I know she’s not living at home, but at least you know where she is.’

  ‘Ah. Yes, Miss Lucy, I do know, but, well, she hasn’t told your auntie yet but she’s going to get married soon, and … well, who knows?’ She ran out of other things to worry about.

  Lucy clapped her hands. ‘Ada’s getting married? That’s wonderful news – it’s a reason to celebrate, isn’t it? There might be additions to the family in due course.’

  Dolly nodded and then blew her nose. ‘Aye, you’re right, o’ course. And our Bob’s wife’s expecting, did you know? Don’t tell our Edie that I’m in a state, will you?’

  Lucy said that she wouldn’t but decided that she would write to Edie when she got back to London and ask her to send her mother a cheerful letter as she was worried about them all.

  Oswald had secured employment at Burroughs Wellcome & Company as a research scientist; he had obtained a Medical Laboratory Scientist degree and found some decent lodgings. He too was concerned about the state of affairs abroad and discussed privately with William, though not his mother, whether it would affect his work situation.

  ‘I doubt that you’ll be called up,’ William said. ‘I’m fairly sure you’ll be exempt.’

  ‘I doubt they’d take me anyway, with my poor eyesight,’ Oswald remarked. ‘But still,’ he said earnestly, ‘I wonder …’ and left the rest of his sentence dangling in thin air.

  Lucy and Oswald returned to London together; it had been only a short weekend but she had much work to do and could study better at the hospital with its vast library than she could at home, particularly when everyone was on tenterhooks awaiting the next news bulletin.

  Before they left, Eleanor presented them each with a pastel sketch, a delightfully caught image of Lucy dressed in pale blue which contrasted with the darkness of her hair, with her hand on her cheek and her eyelids lowered as she read a book on her lap. Oswald she had captured with his hair flopping over his forehead gazing whimsically over the top of his spectacles as if interrupted by the artist as he too sat with a book in his hand.

  They were both astonished at how well she had caught their likenesses and Oswald asked, ‘Oh, can we swap, Lucy? I’ll have the one of you and you have mine. And dearest clever sister, will you draw one of yourself and send it to me?’

  ‘Oh, yes, and one for me too, Eleanor, please,’ Lucy agreed. ‘How talented you are. You must sign them too, as you are sure to be famous one day.’

  They wrapped them carefully and put them in their suitcases, and Lucy wondered what her room-mate would say if she put a picture of her cousin on the wall.

  On 23 August came an official announcement which, although expected, filled everyone with fear and dread as the struggle soon to be named the battle of Mons began with the British army’s first engagement in France.

  Oswald wrote to Lucy after he read of the British soldiers who were now fighting on French soil, asking if they could meet one Sunday if she had the time. He suggested that he could come to the hospital to meet her and they could take a walk on Hampstead Heath.

  It was a soft September Sunday when they met and set off for the heath. There were many people of the same mind, walking up the hills or by the ponds; some were swimming, others just sitting on the grass enjoying a picnic. Any thought of war seemed to have disappeared as children flew kites high in the sky or fed the ducks.

  ‘Let’s sit, shall we?’ Oswald said when they reached the top of a rise, and they sat on a bench overlooking Hampstead and the city of London. He put his hand in his jacket pocket and drew out a bar of chocolate for them to share.

  ‘Do you remember when we were children and visited Pearson Park for the first time?’ Lucy said, gazing wistfully down over the green grass. ‘We were all there, Edie and her brothers
, your mother and Pa and you and me; we took a picnic and played cricket.’

  He laughed. ‘Yes! I was furious with Pa for forgetting the cricket bat and we had to use Stanley’s.’

  ‘It belonged to Max,’ she corrected him. ‘He came too because it was his bat! Funny, isn’t it – the odd things we remember.’

  Oswald put his head back and his face up to the sun as he remembered. ‘That’s right.’ He turned to gaze at her. ‘I was going to be a sworn enemy of everybody because I was the first to be out!’

  ‘What fun it was,’ she said reminiscently. ‘And I fell in love with Max because I thought him so handsome and he chose me for his team.’

  ‘Did he? Did you?’ He seemed astonished.

  She nodded. ‘I was only young, wasn’t I?’

  ‘You were; we all were. Are you still?’

  ‘Am I still what?’ She pointed up at the sky as a blue and yellow kite battled with a green one, both being flown by young men and not children. ‘Young?’

  ‘In love with Max?’ he murmured.

  She looked at him and laughed. ‘No! The last time I met him, which was quite some time ago, I thought him arrogant and egotistical. Neither did he have a very good opinion of women. Did you know that he sacked Edie for asking for time off? I was furious on her behalf!’

  ‘Oh, my word,’ he said in mock fright. ‘I must try never to upset you.’

  ‘You never do,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘Max always seemed to be such a polite caring sort, but I don’t know if it was really genuine. I think perhaps he’d cultivated it for their shop customers or to impress people. I remember your mother saying how polite he was.’

  ‘Mmm,’ he commented. ‘Are you studying behavioural characteristics during your training or is this something that you have naturally acquired?’

  Lucy glanced at him to see if he was teasing, but he wasn’t, he was looking at her very seriously. She hesitated before answering, touching her mouth with her fingers, and his eyes followed the movement.

 

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