by Mary Arden
Charles bent down and after kissing me passionately on the lips, said gently, ‘I mean it. Don’t leave this spot.’
I was so stunned by his kiss that I couldn’t have moved anyway.
Suddenly I heard the throb-throb-throb of an engine overhead, and realised that it must be a doodlebug. I listened carefully, terrified, because I knew that while the engine was still throbbing I was safe, but when the engine stopped the bomb would immediately fall out of the sky and whoever was underneath it had very little chance of survival. To my horror, the engine stopped.
I squatted down under the stairs and braced myself for the explosion. A terrific bang was followed by the sound of breaking glass, and then a strange blast lifted me off my feet and sent me flying halfway up the basement steps. I tried to stand up, but my legs were shaking so badly that they gave way beneath me; I tried again a few minutes later, this time managing to pull myself up the stairs and into the small garden at the front of the house, where I was able to hold onto a tree to steady myself. I looked down at my feet and saw that I was now wearing only one shoe and that I no longer had my handbag with me. I carefully went back down the steps to the basement where I found my bag but there was no sign of my missing shoe.
A chilling thought then struck me: where was Charles? Had he been killed in the explosion? I couldn’t bear it if he had, as I had become very fond of him, no more than fond I suddenly realised. It was at that very moment that I knew I had fallen in love with Charles.
‘Oh Charles, please don’t be dead,’ I called out.
Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder and a gruff voice said, ‘Are you all right Miss?’ It was an air raid warden, who asked me why I wasn’t in a shelter, so I explained what had happened and asked him if he’d seen a tall, dark man in guard’s uniform on the road. ‘He was going towards a taxi rank somewhere,’ I said, my voice trembling, and desperately trying to hold back my tears.
The air raid warden shook his head, and said that he hadn’t seen a soul since the siren went. He then noticed that I was wearing only one shoe and that my legs were bleeding, ‘You’ll need those cuts cleaning up, Miss,’ he said gently putting his arm around my shoulder, ‘You’d best come with me, Miss.’
I stood there rooted to the spot and explained how I’d promised Charles that I’d stay where I was until he returned.
‘Okay, Miss, I’ll come back in half an hour, and if the gentleman hasn’t arrived then, we’ll get in touch with your family and get you home.’
While I waited for Charles, I tried to take my mind off what might have happened to him by hunting for my missing shoe. There was glass everywhere, and I had to tread very carefully, so that I didn’t cut my bare foot. After about ten minutes of fruitless searching I decided to take off my remaining shoe and go out onto the street to wait.
‘Oh Charles, where the hell are you?’ I shouted.
‘I’m right here!’ a voice replied. I turned around and to my delight there was Charles stepping out of a taxi.
‘I thought you were dead,’ I sobbed, running into his arms.
Charles whispered, ‘I thought something terrible must have happened to you too; first a bomb and then a doodlebug in the same area, we’re both jolly lucky to still be alive.’
I clung to him, crying like a baby, and then Charles put his finger under my chin to make me look up at his face, ‘There is something I need to ask you.’
For a moment I thought Charles was about to propose to me in the middle of the road, but instead, he just grinned and asked, ‘Do you still fancy beans on toast for supper?’
I hit him playfully with my remaining shoe, ‘That sounds wonderful.’
He picked me up with ease and carried me to the taxi and placed me carefully in the back seat before climbing in and sitting next to me. When we got to his house he carried me indoors and placed me on a chair in his drawing room, while he went back outside to pay the driver.
As soon as he was back inside, he pulled all the blackout curtains and put the lights on. Then seeing that I had blood running down my legs, he came closer to inspect them. I had tiny pieces of glass sticking out of my stockings, so he suggested that I go upstairs and wash my legs in the bathroom.
As I got up, I handed him my remaining shoe and said, ‘Such a pity that was my favourite pair.’
I went upstairs to the bathroom, turned on the taps, and while the water was running, I took off my stockings and sat on the edge of the bath to rinse the dirt and blood off my legs. I then suddenly felt a sharp stab in my left breast, and when I looked down, I saw that the top of my blouse was covered in blood. I slowly undid my buttons and noticed that there was something sticking through my brassiere, and it appeared to be embedded in my flesh.
Just then there was a soft knock on the bathroom door, ‘Are you alright Mary, or do you want some help?’ Charles asked.
‘Yes, actually I think I do Charles,’ I said as he walked in, ‘I seem to have something sharp sticking out of my,… my chest.’
‘Now, Mary, please don’t be shy and take off your blouse, so that I can have a closer look,’ he said now looking very concerned.
Charles then gently pulled aside my brassiere, and looked quite alarmed when he saw that I had a shard of glass sticking out of my chest, ‘Mary, I think it’s too dangerous for me to try and pull it out in case I do more damage. We need to get you to a doctor so that it can be removed and cleaned properly.’
‘Why don’t we call Marcus?’ I suggested. ‘He lives nearby, so that would save us having to go to the hospital.’
Charles phoned Marcus straight away, who said that he’d come as soon as he could find a taxi.
When he got there, Marcus strode straight into the bathroom and without wasting a moment said, ‘Right let’s take a look at you then.’
He gently touched the shard of glass sticking in my chest and as he waggled it, the shard glistened under the ceiling light, and I could see that I was still bleeding.
‘Charles, can you go and boil a kettle please, so that I can sterilise a pair of tweezers?’ Marcus asked and then turned to me and said, ‘Don’t worry, Mary, I don’t think it’s too deep and I should be able to remove it fairly easily. Let’s get you downstairs, though, while the kettle’s boiling, so that I don’t need to tackle it with one foot in the bath and the other in the lavatory!’
I giggled. Good old Marcus, his calm manner had immediately made me feel more relaxed, and I thought what a great doctor he will make when he is fully qualified. He then helped me down the stairs and we joined Charles in the kitchen, just as the kettle boiled.
‘You’ll have to remove your brassiere, Mary, so that I can clean up the wound and stitch you up,’ Marcus said to me.
Charles, ever the gentleman, turned his head away, while I removed my brassiere. Meanwhile, Marcus just got on with it, tut-tutting every now and again, and calling to Charles for a clean towel each time he drew blood. After some time and persistence Marcus finally managed to remove the thin shard of glass cleanly with the tweezers.
As he put in some stitches, Marcus told me that I had been very lucky because if the glass had gone into my breast an inch higher up, it could have severed an artery.
I suddenly began to feel rather sick and said that perhaps I should go home now. Charles rang for a taxi and insisted on coming too, so that he could explain to Aunt Beth what had happened. Marcus decided that he had better come with us as well.
Aunt Beth was horrified when she saw me with my blouse all covered in blood, but after Marcus assured her that I was going to be fine, she started to relax and then he promised her that he would take me to the hospital in the morning, just to make sure that all my cuts were thoroughly clean.
Aunt Beth thanked them both profusely for getting me home safely to her.
Marcus brushed it off, ‘Oh, that’s alright Aunt Beth, don’t mention it; I needed to practice stitches anyway!’
‘Thank you, Marcus,’ I said giving him a big hug. Then I said goo
dnight to Charles and told him, ‘You’ll have to make me beans on toast another day!’
The following morning, Marcus kept his promise and took me to see a doctor at the hospital, who told him that he had done a great job and that the wound was healing already, ‘Good stitches, by the way!’
Charles turned up later that afternoon with two enormous bunches of flowers, ‘Oh… and I found this one up a tree in the garden next to the house where we took shelter,’ he said handing me my missing shoe. I couldn’t believe that he had taken the time to go back and look for it. Yes I definitely had fallen in love with this charming man, I thought to myself.
‘Mary, I want to say something to you, while we are alone,’ Charles whispered, kneeling in front of me, ‘You must have realised by now how I feel about you, and my darling girl I would like to make you my wife very soon.’
‘Oh, Charles,’ I sighed, thinking how very romantic this all was and then I suddenly sat bolt upright, ‘But I can’t! I am only just eighteen, and I don’t think my father will allow it.’
‘I had better go and ask him then,’ Charles said laughing.
I returned home to Woking the following morning, and as Aunt Beth had already telephoned my mother to explain what had happened to me, she was anxiously waiting for me at the station, and as I got off the train, she hugged me tight and said, ‘Thank God you are alive.’
When we arrived home she examined my wounds and said how pleased she was to see that they were already healing and not as serious as she had feared. And then she said smiling at me, ‘Now Mary, tell me everything.’
‘What do you mean, Mummy?’ I asked her.
‘I mean Charles Edham!’ she laughed, ‘I think that he must be a bit more than just a friend, from what Aunt Beth has told me,’ she then added, ‘And I understand that he wants to speak to your father. How do you feel about that?’
‘Well, yes, he did mention something along those lines, but I told him I couldn’t possibly get married yet, as I was sure my father would never allow it,’ I told her.
My mother took my hand in hers and sat down beside me. She then asked me question after question about Charles, who he was, what regiment he was in, where he lived and so on and after the interrogation was over she gave me a nod of approval.
‘I think you will make a perfect country squire’s wife, Mary,’ she said smiling.
‘But do you think Daddy will give Charles permission to marry me?’ I asked her.
‘I will make sure that he does,’ my mother replied. Then she thought for a moment and added, ‘But I think he will agree anyway, because otherwise all the things that you have learned at Finishing School – not to mention those expensive fees – will have been wasted – and you know your father – he hates waste!’
Two days later, my father received a letter from Charles asking him if they could meet up in London, when my father was next at the War Office. The two men met for lunch at my father’s club later that week.
When my father returned from London, he told my mother that he was very impressed with how mature Charles was, and that he had invited him down to Woking for the weekend, so that she could meet him too.
When Charles arrived, Agnes met him at the front door to let him in, and as she took his coat she asked politely, ‘Should I call you Your Lordship?’
‘Certainly not!’ I overhead him reply, as I walked down the hall, ‘I would much prefer that you call me Major Edham, as I had to work jolly hard to become a Major, whereas my other title is just the one I was born with, which really has nothing to do with me!’ he said laughing. Agnes then turned in my direction and gave me a huge smile.
I took Charles into the drawing room to join my parents and after the introductions had been made, my mother and I left the men to talk. As soon as were in the hallway, my mother looked at me lovingly and said, ‘I think he will do very nicely for you, my dear.’
My father was equally happy thank goodness and I wished I could introduce Charles to my brothers too, but as they were both away that weekend, that would have to wait. However, after lunch I took Charles to meet Kay, Jack and little Richard at their house.
Kay greeted us warmly the moment we arrived and showed us into the sunroom where her son was playing on the floor. Charles starting talking to Jack about how I had mentioned he was a fire fighter and told him how much he respected the fire fighting teams, as he would be absolutely terrified if he had to put out fires and rescue people from bombed-out dangerous buildings. I could see Jack’s pride swell before my eyes.
Charles then asked Kay to tell him stories of what I was like as a small girl when she was my governess, and she made us all laugh with one or two recollections. When it was time to leave, Kay told Charles that she was very fond of me and that we were more like sisters, to which Charles had replied, ‘In that case I hope you will accept me as another brother.’
As we walked home Charles took my hand in his and said how good I was with little Richard, asking me if I wanted children of my own.
‘Dozens, but not yet,’ I replied.
‘That’s a relief!’ he said, and we both laughed.
That evening, as I listened to Charles and my father discuss the war, I realised once again that I had a tendency to worry about my own sadness and losses and seldom faced up to the anguish and sorrow that so many others all over the world were going through. When later that evening I confessed this to my mother, she told me that I wasn’t the only one that thought like that.
The next day, my father gave his permission for Charles to marry me on the condition that he waited until after the Queen Charlotte’s Ball before announcing our engagement formally. Over lunch we discussed where the wedding should be held, and Charles said that he was certain his parents would expect him to marry at Saint Margaret’s in Westminster, but then said that it was the bride’s prerogative to choose the venue, so it was up to me.
‘Wouldn’t a big church like that be very expensive?’ I asked.
Charles looked at my father and they both grinned. ‘I’m very glad that my future wife minds the pennies so carefully!’ Charles teased.
‘It runs in the family!’ my father replied.
CHAPTER 5
1942
The night before the Queen Charlotte’s Ball, Aunt Beth invited me to stay with her, so that we could spend the day of the Ball making absolutely sure that my dress fitted me perfectly and then, on the evening of the Ball, she helped me slip into my beautiful white ball gown reminding me, as she did so, that before long she’d be helping me into my wedding dress. She then put the lovely ruby and diamond necklace, that my mother had taken out of the family vault at the bank, around my neck, and arranged some small red flowers in my hair that matched it perfectly.
Marcus was my partner for this special occasion, and when we went down to the waiting taxi, I reminded him to tell the driver to take us to the Dorchester Hotel first, where we were meeting Jane and some other debutantes and their escorts for a drink before going on to the Ball together.
When we got to the Dorchester, Jane introduced me to her escort, who was the brother of one of her best friends at the Hall. Most of the others girls in our party that night were also from our Finishing School. Queen Charlotte’s Ball was being held at Grosvenor House, and the moment we arrived there, all the girls went to the cloakroom to tidy their hair. It was all terribly grand and exciting and both Jane and I were suitably awestruck, as we finally entered the huge room, which was lit by candles, and chandeliers that hung, glittering, from the ceiling.
When we joined the rest of our party at our table, I noticed that Belinda, a friend from Finishing School, was looking admiringly at Marcus. She came up to me and whispered in my ear, ‘Who’s the tall fair boy you’re with?’
I whispered back, ‘He’s my cousin, Marcus.’
‘My partner for tonight is also my cousin, perhaps we could swop?’ she asked cheekily.
‘What’s he like?’ I asked her.
‘Oh Tommy
’s an absolute scream! You’ll get on well with him,’ she assured me. When Marcus joined us at the table, he pointed to a row of rather serious looking women sitting nearby and said, ‘You girls had better be on your best behaviour tonight, as those women over there are watching you.’
Belinda and I looked at the women and remembered how we had been warned that there would be some middle-aged dowagers present tonight to chaperone us ‘gals’.
After dinner, all the girls took turns dancing with each of the young men seated at the table. And when it was Marcus’s turn to dance with me, he told me that Belinda’s cousin, Tommy, had invited us to an exclusive nightclub after the Ball was over, but as he was only allowed to take two guests, we wouldn’t be able to take Jane with us. I told him not to worry, as I knew that her father was picking her up later after the Ball anyway.
Suddenly a drum roll announced that it was time for all the debutants to collect together ready to curtsey to a young Duchess who, as part of the Royal Family, was standing in for the King and Queen, as they no longer attended these events because of the war. The Duchess was standing next to the hugest cake I had ever seen, covered with white icing and decorated with hundreds of pink sugar-flowers. The cake was so enormous and the Duchess so tiny in comparison, that I thought she looked a bit like an ornament that should have been on top of it, so when it was my turn to curtsey, I had to concentrate on not getting the giggles. Thankfully, I made an elegant enough curtsey not to shame my family, and now my mother would be able to tell all her friends that her daughter had officially ‘Come Out’.
When the Ball was finally over, Marcus, Belinda, Tommy and I took a taxi together to the nightclub, and on the way Belinda confided that she had never been to a nightclub before. I told her that I hadn’t either, so we were both very excited.
When we arrived, Tommy showed his membership card to the man at the door, who recognised him at once and said, ‘Good to see you M’ Lord’ and let us all in.