IN TIME OF WAR
(The sixth and final part of The People of This Parish Saga)
Nicola Thorne
Publishing History
First world edition published in Great Britain in 2000 by Severn House Publishers Ltd of 9-15 High Street, Sutton Surrey SM1 1DF.
First published in the USA 2000 by Severn House Publishers Inc. of 595 Madison Avenue, New York 10022,
Unabridged Audio Edition Published in 2002 by Isis Publishing Ltd
This E book edition revised by the author in 2013
Copyright 1999, 2000, 2002, 2013 © Nicola Thorne
The author has asserted her moral rights.
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
Author website: www.nicolathorne.com
Cover Illustration by David Young
Cover design by Ruth Wrixton
E book preparation Witley Press Ltd, Hunstanton, PE36 6AD
About the Author
Nicola Thorne was born in South Africa and, after a spell in New Zealand with her mother who was born in Wellington, came to England as a child where her parents finally separated. She spent her youth in the North of England, where she was educated first at a convent school and then a co-educational school. After completing her education at the London School of Economics she then spent most of her adult life in London. She has made a long career as a writer and is the author of over fifty novels. For a number of years Nicola has been among the top most borrowed authors from public libraries in the UK (PLR statistics) and many of her books have been published in foreign languages apart from English. After fifteen years spent in Dorset, she now lives in Devon.
By the same author
Return to Wuthering Heights (also e-book)
A Woman Like Us (also e-book)
The Perfect Wife and Mother (also e-book)
The Daughters of the House (also e-book)
Where the Rivers Meet (also e-book)
Affairs of Love
Pride of Place
Bird of Passage
Champagne
Champagne Gold
A Wind in Summer Silk, a novel
Profit and Loss
Trophy Wife
Repossession, a novel of psychic suspense (also e-book)
Worlds Apart
Old Money
Rules of Engagement
The Good Samaritan
Class Reunion
My Name is Martha Brown (also e-book)
In Search of Martha Brown (non-fiction)
A Friend of the Family
Coppitts Green (also e-book)
The Little Flowers (also e-book)
Rose, Rose, Where are You? (also e-book)
On a Day Like Today
The Holly Tree
The Pride of the School (e-book only)
After the Rain (also e-book)
The Askham Chronicles, 1898-1967:
Never Such Innocence
Yesterday’s Promises
Bright Morning
A Place in the Sun
The People of This Parish Saga
The People of This Parish (also e-book)
The Rector’s Daughter (also e-book)
In This Quiet Earth (also e-book)
Past Love (also e-book)
A Time of Hope (also e-book)
In Time of War (also e-book)
The Broken Bough Saga
The Broken Bough (also e-book)
The Blackbird’s Song (also e-book)
The Water’s Edge (also e-book)
Oh Happy Day! (also e-book)
The Enchantress Saga
The Enchantress (e -book only)
Falcon Gold (e-book only)
Lady of the Lakes (e-book only)
Contents
Part One: The Darkest Days, 1939-1944
Part Two: The Turning of the Tide, 1944-1947
Epilogue: Closing the Circle, August 1950
Synopsis
Individual acts of heroism and endurance mingle with the mystery of Irene’s disappearance and the fate of the Woodvilles’ old adversary, Bart Sadler, who risks everything to find her.
It is July 1939 and Alexander Martyn has married Irene, a beautiful German girl. After a blissful honeymoon in Italy, Irene returns to Berlin to warn a friend of the impending danger and immediately disappears without trace. Alexander joins the RAF, but his thoughts are always on his bride’s unknown fate. But this is not the only catastrophe to engulf the family as the whole world bursts into the flames of conflict.
Ending in 1950 this volume brings to a close the saga of the Dorset landowners, the Woodville family, and the people of the small parish of Wenham, their friends and associates, which began in 1880 when Queen Victoria still ruled the British Empire.
This is the final book in the six part
The People of This Parish Saga
Part One
The Darkest Days
1939-1944
Chapter One
July 1939
In the eyes of many people it was an inauspicious time for a wedding. Hitler had overrun Czechoslovakia; Chamberlain had guaranteed the help of the English nation to Poland should the same thing happen to them, and he had introduced conscription. For the two people in love it was a time of extremes: great personal happiness combined with high anxiety.
Britain was clearly preparing for war, and village halls up and down the land were seething with people anxious, should it be required, to do their bit. The ARP was taking volunteers, the ranks of the WVS bursting with new recruits, while men young and old were eager to enlist in the armed forces.
There was an all-pervasive spirit of comradeship that seemed to give zest to the nation and engender an atmosphere that was almost festive.
But the wedding reception held that day at Pelham’s Oak, near the small Dorset market town of Wenham, was low-key in comparison to others which the older members of the Woodville family could recall. Usually there had been a white wedding at Wenham Parish Church followed by a huge reception at the house, to which family friends and estate workers were all invited, and the celebrations seemed to go on for days.
But on this occasion instead of making their vows in church Alexander Martyn and Irene Schwartz had been married at a registry office in London and the following day there was a luncheon party at the Dorset home of Alexander’s father Carson. Close relations were there, a handful of friends and the bride’s parents, Reuben and Alma Schwartz.
The undoubted guest of honour was Bart Sadler who, the previous year, had helped to spirit Reuben from the Nazi concentration camp of Sachenhausen.
Bart had not always been in favour with the Woodville family but now it was time to let bygones be bygones, especially with Eliza, Alexander’s aunt, who found herself placed next to him at table. Bart had with him his son Sam, who was helping him to run his business while Bart continued his mysterious trips abroad exchanging goods for human cargo: Jewish victims of Nazi persecution.
Conversation was difficult, Eliza was annoyed at the place setting, but good manners prevented her from complaining.
“Did you go to the wedding Mrs Heering?” Bart enquired politely making another attempt at conversation.
Eliza shook her head.
“Only Carson and Lally and the Schwartz’s were there. They wanted to keep it
quiet.”
Eliza paused, conscious of the restraint between them, and her expression changed. “I wanted to tell you, frankly, Mr Sadler, that what you did in Germany was very commendable. I admire you.”
“Thank you Mrs Heering.” Bart attempted a modest smile. “I assure you there was no personal bravery involved. It was a matter of manipulating people, using my business connections. I also made a small profit on the side – not from Mr Schwartz – but I always travel to Germany with a full load. I didn’t even meet Mr Schwartz until he was safely over the border.” Bart inclined his head towards Eliza. “But I must tell you that almost of equal importance to me at this moment is the renewal of our acquaintanceship. The hope that this means you will forgive me for the past.”
Eliza stiffened.
“What happened over the business of my house happened a long time ago. As these things sometimes turn out it was for the best. I am not only very happy at Riversmead I think I prefer it to Upper Park, which you bought from me behind my back.”
“I still detect a note of bitterness, Mrs Heering,” Bart said contritely. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I behaved in a very stupid and clumsy fashion when I came back from abroad all those years ago. I have learned my lesson since.”
Eliza thought it was difficult to sense any real sorrow on that self-satisfied mask that was the face of Bart Sadler. He had always been trouble in the neighbourhood, causing it before he left and again when he returned. It was too easy to misinterpret his motives, but he had made nothing but mischief to her family.
She was relieved when Bart turned away to talk to his son Sam who, despite a rather bullish, self-confident appearance had nothing to say, perhaps out of shyness in front of relatives he had had little to do with before. His mother, Sophie Turner, had once been married to Eliza’s nephew George. Sam was a tall, saturnine young man who very much resembled his father.
Momentarily, Eliza had the opportunity to look round at the members of the family gathered at the table. It put her in a nostalgic mood as she thought back over the years recalling, as a woman of seventy-seven and a matriarch must, all the occasions, joyful and tragic, connected with the family home of Pelham’s Oak where she had been born.
Next to her was the head of the family Carson, fourteenth baronet, engaged in conversation with Alma Schwartz. Alexander and Irene sat together in the middle and, also locked in conversation with their neighbours, were Lally, Alexander’s adoptive mother, Carson’s wife Sally, Eliza’s daughter Dora and her husband Jean Parterre who had only just arrived that day from France.
With a few taps on a glass to call for silence, Carson rose glancing at the happy faces of Alexander and Irene raised expectantly towards him.
“I won’t talk for long,” he said, “but I did want to tell you how full my heart is on this day to know that Alexander has again found a happiness he so deserves. We live in troubled times but life goes on, renewing itself. It is in the hands of young people like Alexander and Irene that our future lies.” He raised his glass. “To Alexander and Irene.”
“Alexander and Irene, Alexander and Irene,” murmured the guests.
As they sat down again Alexander rose and slowly gazed around him as if committing to memory every face there before speaking.
“Thank you, Father. It is, needless to say, a very happy day for Irene and me. It is wonderful to be reunited with the family here at Pelham’s Oak and to have you all with us, especially Reuben and Alma.” He glanced towards his parents-in-law. “In this connection, I have to express my heartfelt thanks to Bart Sadler for restoring Reuben to us.” He raised his glass. “This is for you, Bart, for all you’ve done ... and may your good work continue,” as Bart smiled his thanks Alexander lowered his voice, “because I think it will be necessary. I fear that dark times lie ahead, but let the thought not spoil our day. Irene and I raise our glasses to our friends and families. Long may we all live in peace and harmony with one another, and may the nations of the world succeed in achieving peace and harmony among themselves too.”
“Peace and harmony,” everyone murmured fervently, but there were doubts in many voices that it would come true.
After lunch they gathered in the white and gold drawing room which had seen so many grand receptions in the past.
“Do you worry about a war, Jean?” Eliza asked her son-in-law who, coffee cup in hand, had joined her.
“Everyone worries about a war; but I think it is inevitable now. I have thought so for a long time. I worry about my vines.” He frowned and put his cup to his lips.
“He’s always worrying about his vines,” Dora said a little shrilly as she joined them. “The most important things in his life.”
“That is not true, my love,” Jean said in the tired tone of voice of one who has had to say the same thing over and over again. “You and our daughter are the most important things in my life.”
Eliza looked round. “Where are the children? I thought they might join us.”
“Oh, they’re playing happily. Unfortunately it’s a game of war.” Carson, hearing the end of the conversation, had now joined them. “I dare say at their age I would have done the same. We thought formal lunch with the family would be too boring for them.” Carson’s sons Toby and Leonard were home from school for the summer holiday. Their mother Connie, from whom Carson was divorced, lived with her second husband in Venice. Remaining with her was Netta her youngest child and only daughter. Usually Toby and Leonard went to Venice for the holidays, but because of the international situation they were staying in England and their sister would soon join them.
As if on cue the children, washed and neatly dressed, were ushered in by a smiling nursemaid. With Toby and Leonard were Louise, Dora’s daughter, and Alexander’s five-year-old daughter Kate whose mother, Mary, his first wife, had died giving birth to her. The girls, in pretty dresses, hair well brushed, appeared in awe both of the grown-ups and the two older boys to whom, in the war game, they had been hostages. It was rather a relief to get away.
The rough and tumble of children’s play was alien to both the girls, especially Kate in the over-protective atmosphere in which she was being brought up.
Kate looked relieved to see her father and ran over to him, hiding her head against his leg.
“My darling,” he said tenderly, “did you have a nice game?”
Kate shook her head.
“I want you, Daddy.”
“Daddy wants you too.” Alexander led her over to a chair and sat down. “And when Irene and I come back from our honeymoon we shall all be together.”
Kate looked at him, eyes shining. She was an incredibly beautiful child with golden hair, peach-blossom skin and cornflower-blue eyes. She was also rather spoiled, with her own devoted nurse Massie, her doting grandmother Lally and her adoring father racked by guilt because he felt he had let her young mother die.
Kate had decided that Irene intruded in this pleasant scheme of things and tried to ignore her whenever she could. In fact, she wished that she would go away, but now it appeared she was to be around forever.
“For always?” Kate had insisted.
“For always. Well ...” But then he’d stopped. What was the purpose of mentioning something which the child would not understand and which in any case might not ever happen? The War.
The children now occupied the attention of the grown-ups who broke into small groups. Outside it was raining, inside a great fire roared in the chimney. Tea was eventually served after which it was time for the bridal pair to leave on their honeymoon.
Everyone drifted to the hall and on to the porch, the late afternoon sun struggled to appear through thick grey clouds. They stood around in groups chatting, laughing, smoking until Irene appeared, hatless, carrying a white linen coat, to match the dress she’d changed into, over her arm. She favoured white; it contrasted so well with her dark good looks. She was raven-haired and high-cheekboned, with brown almost tawny-coloured eyes. She always wore a lot of make-up and
, usually, scarlet lipstick. She was tall and slim, flamboyant, sophisticated, the very antithesis to the petite, shy and ethereally beautiful Mary who had died so tragically at the age of seventeen.
Following her came Alexander, his arm still round his daughter who clung to him. Alexander too was possessed of striking good looks being dark like his wife with short black hair, brushed back from his forehead, deeply recessed eyes that seemed black, and high, distinctive cheekbones that gave him a slightly Slav look. He wore a grey pinstriped suit and carried a trilby in his hand. After smothering Kate with kisses he delivered her to the care of Massie and Lally who looked at her anxiously fearing an outburst.
The newly married couple then passed through the crowd gathered on the porch where there were more kisses, hugs, promises to write, to take care. Toby and Leonard on their best behaviour stood on either side of their father and stepmother. Little Kate had to be restrained by Lally and Massie from trying to join her father and, as Lally had feared, collapsed into tears.
Looking up Alexander was immediately distressed and, leaving his bride, hurried back up the steps to kiss Kate again and repeat his reassurances. Now Lally looked on the verge of tears. She hadn’t wanted them to go abroad.
There was an air of general pandemonium. Irene, looking tense, hugged her fur round her as she leaned against the car waiting for Alexander, a cigarette between her fingers. Kate was finally reassured, promised extravagant presents and the swift return of her father. Alexander rushed back to join his bride, kissed her cheek and tenderly ushered her into the car.
At the back of the crowd Bart Sadler stood, detached from the proceedings, his son beside him, smoking a cigarette and watching events. Suddenly Irene, about to get into the car, saw him and rushed up the steps towards him, flinging her arms around him and whispering: “Thank you again.” Then she turned and, as if she too like Kate was reluctant to leave the reassuring parental presence, embraced her mother and father who wore brave smiles. After all worse things had happened to them in the last few years than losing their daughter to a goy, and hadn’t Reuben been rescued by one?
In Time of War (Part Six of The People of this Parish Saga) Page 1