A House Divided: An Easterleigh Hall Novel

by Margaret Graham

  The wedding was on 1 October 1938, just after Chamberlain had flown into Croydon Airport waving the Munich Agreement. The newspapers had quoted his words: Peace for our time. It seemed to Bridie that the agreement was a bribe, which gave Germany the right to reclaim the Sudetenland region of Czechoslovakia in return for peace in Europe. At six in the morning, she listened to her mam and Aunt Ver as they praised the Prime Minister, while she wanted to slap him. She hurried up the stairs to the ballroom, lifting the muslin covering the wedding cake. It was all her own work, and her mam was pleased, and so too was Mrs Moore. The glasses were ranged on a table along one wall, the buffet implements on another. The tables and chairs had yet to be arranged.

  She slipped to the stables, because Fanny should have foaled yesterday but had not. Clive was in the stall. He shook his head at Bridie. ‘She always was a lazy girl.’ He stroked her neck, as the bay mare guzzled her oats.

  ‘She looks about to pop,’ James said from behind Bridie.

  Clive grinned at Bridie. ‘You look pretty done in, lass.’

  ‘That’s what comes of sleeping on a camp bed in the tack room, and waking every hour to check on the old bag. Her teats are waxed up, so she’s thinking about labour.’ Bridie leaned on the open stable door, listening to the chomping, the swish of the tail, the neigh from another stall. She called, ‘Alright Terry, we love you too, but you’re not about to heave out a foal, so stop fussing.’

  James came alongside. ‘How are we going to do the stable shifts during the wedding?’

  Bridie snatched a look at Clive, and said, ‘Clive’s here during the service. You’ll be here for the first two hours, then David’s taking the next shift.’

  James gripped her arm. ‘You can’t, not the groom, not even you can do that.’

  Clive burst out laughing, and Bridie shook her head at him. ‘Ah, he’s so easy, Clive. Just so very easy. No, then it’s me, then it’s you, and then – oh, have a look at the schedule. I have the canapés to check, the vol-au-vent cases to bake, the . . .’

  James backed away, his hands up. ‘Fine, I’ve got it. I’ll come with you, because I’m on furniture moving duty in the ballroom.’

  They headed across the yard, James muttering, ‘Not sure about Chamberlain’s damned bit of paper. We should be standing up to Hitler, not creeping around, playing nice. Everyone’s forgotten what’s happened in Spain, if they ever think about it at all. All that practising. I gather the International Brigade is leaving, now that Franco’s won.’

  The easterly wind was its usual cold self and Bridie pulled her cardigan around her. James continued, ‘At least I found Archie Leadbetter’s address before the recruitment office closed, so I was able to write to his parents. They were pleased to know he didn’t suffer. But I bet he bloody did.’

  They headed down the steps. He said, ‘You’re quiet?’

  ‘What can I say, when it’s all a damned great bloody mess?’

  They entered the kitchen and the dogs came for their stroke. She picked up Currant, while James lifted Raisin. Mrs Moore was making puff pastry. ‘Not sure about not knowing what to say, bonny lass. You’re right, it’s a mess, right enough, and I don’t believe a word that nasty little man Hitler says, and Chamberlain is a pushover. But the buffet is not about to make itself, so apron on, hands washed and get at it. James, you’re wanted upstairs. Tim is helping too, and shouldn’t you be at university, anyway? It’s no good to keep putting it off.’

  James disappeared out of the door. Mrs Moore and Bridie looked at one another. Bridie put Currant down on the armchair, and shrugged. ‘I don’t know what his plans are, but Da is glad of his help for now.’

  Mr and Mrs Weare and the rest of David’s family and friends were in their pews, though Estrella’s weren’t, of course, because they’d been killed. Bridie shut off her mind. She sat at the back with her mother, Annie and Aunt Ver, because they all had to scoot off early, to put a dollop of creamy cucumber and dill on a third of the canapés, smooth pâté on another third, and soft cheese on the remainder. While they did this, Harry and Mr Harvey would sort the champagne. This would keep the ravening hordes quiet while the photographs were taken.

  Just for once, it seemed, Edward was not wearing bicycle clips as he waited for the bride. James whispered, ‘Perhaps Aunt Gracie’s had a word with him?’

  Bridie laughed quietly as the organ struck up the wedding march. Her da was giving the bride away, and Maria and Helen, the housekeeper, had helped to make the wedding dress. Estrella looked quite beautiful as Aub walked her down the aisle to join David, who was waiting in his wheelchair. Edward had suggested the couple should sit, and a chair was arranged for Estrella. Edward sat, as well. Bridie thought that was one of the most gracious gestures she had ever known, and typical of Edward.

  It was one that Dr Nicholls would have appreciated, but he was unwell, and Matron had confined him, not to his house, but to the Neave Wing, as it was his spiritual home, she had confided in Gracie, now his wife was long gone. So here he would remain, to be a bloody nuisance, Matron announced. Bridie smiled fondly. He was so lovely, but so old. Sister Newsome had stipulated that a new doctor must be found, because it was too much for the silly old fool.

  Halfway through the service, the door clicked open and Potty entered, bringing with him a possible replacement for Dr Nicholls. Or so he had written to Evie, who he considered General Brampton of the Easterleigh Hall hotel army. Bridie, her mother and aunt, Annie and Mrs Moore craned round, James too. Potty directed a couple who looked to be in their late thirties, thin but neatly dressed, she in a modest felt hat, into the row in front of the Easterleigh Hall women. He waggled his fingers at them, murmuring, ‘Morning, dear hearts, so sorry to be late. Trains, trains, don’t let’s even think of them.’ They sat.

  Bridie saw her mother look at Aunt Ver, and smile. That was the doctor sorted, then, Bridie assumed, grinning again.

  *

  After the photographs, more canapés were served, and more champagne. James took his shift at the stables, taking a plate heaped with chicken, quiche, fresh rolls, salmon, and heaven knows what, plus a bottle of wine. Bridie saw Uncle Richard take the bottle away and pour him a glass, grinning. James laughed. She heard him say, ‘Worth a try.’

  Uncle Richard said, ‘Not while you’re looking after Fanny, if you please.’

  While the waitresses busied themselves, Bridie and her mam circulated, as did the rest of the family. Mrs Moore was chatting to Edward, as Bridie skirted around Lady Margaret, Penny and Sir Anthony. Lady Margaret had been invited because she and her daughter were spending a week with Sir Anthony at Searton, his estate near Washington. Aunt Ver said that at every wedding there was a cross to bear. Indeed, she thought, as she heard the wretched woman say, ‘So wonderful that the Führer has gathered up more Lebensraum, and quite right too. He’s neutralised Britain, as well. Clever ma—’ She stopped as she saw Bridie. ‘Hello, Bridie. Your course did you good. These canapés are an improvement on the others. Shame you didn’t stay till the end.’

  Bridie flushed, and moved on. She joined her mother, who was talking to Potty. ‘Charming couple,’ he was saying. ‘Dr Gerber practised medicine until it became too – what shall we say – difficult, and he lost his patients. So here they are, in need of a calling, and in need of a home. Naturally I thought of the Neave Wing, and my heart sang when I heard dear Dr Nicholls was at last hanging up his hat.’

  ‘Oh,’ Bridie said, ‘he only decided a couple of days ago. Have you a direct line to our doings?’

  It was a joke, but Potty looked flustered. ‘No, not at all. I can’t think how I heard. Perhaps I bumped into Sir Anthony at the club.’

  Evie was frowning at Bridie, her expression saying, will you please be quiet. She took Potty by the arm, leading him away. ‘Let’s have a chat, and we’ll bring Matron and Sister Newsome in on it, shall we? Now is as good a time as any before Matron throws her hat over the windmill and misbehaves.’

  Colonel Potter gu
ffawed, ‘That’ll be a sight for sore eyes.’

  Matron was already talking to the doctor. Bridie checked her watch. It would be time for her shift in an hour.

  Uncle Jack was chatting to David and Estrella, who sat at one of the circular tables, and at that point Harry declared the buffet open. A swarm of bees came to mind, as the waitresses brought a selection of food to the bride and groom. Soon all the guests were taking their places, and now she saw that Tim had arrived, and her heart jolted, and then twisted as he walked to Sir Anthony. They shook hands; he kissed Lady Margaret and Penny as they waited to choose from the buffet. He looked up, and saw her watching. He waved. She made herself return it, before checking her watch again. Damn, she had another half an hour of this.

  Tim looked around the room, and his mam came and talked to him, slipping her arm in his. Tim kissed her cheek, his face alight with pleasure. His father came too, then, and the men hugged. Though they had healed the breach, her own parents had not, nor the marras, because they merely nodded or waved from a distance. Silently Bridie applauded.

  Tim was now nodding to Potty, who was ensconced with Sister Newsome. Potty nodded in return, briefly. Bridie saw Dr Gerber, who was sitting at the table with Potty and Matron, half rise when he saw Tim, recognition on his face, until his wife said something. He sat down immediately, his head bowed. His wife whispered to him, annoyed. Matron and Potty continued talking, or rather, Matron talked, and Potty listened.

  Bridie looked from their table, to Tim. The doctor was German, she knew that much. Tim was a fascist who spent time with Nazis. Do the sums, Bridie, she told herself, and left the reception. It wasn’t time for her shift, but she needed some air and something normal, so she joined James in the stall, in all her finery, wondering if Dr Gerber was a Nazi.

  Fanny was calm, looking at them as though they were intruding, much as Marigold used to. There were two stools in the corner; James was sitting on one, and his lunch was on the other.

  ‘Typical,’ she said, plonking the plate on top of the newspaper on his lap.

  ‘I’m just feeding the inner man,’ he muttered, rescuing his paper. ‘What are you doing here? You have another, er . . .’ He checked his watch. ‘Twenty-one minutes precisely.’

  ‘I needed a break.’

  He was reading about the Munich Agreement. She sat back as James folded the newspaper and handed it to her. ‘Have a read, it passes the time, though she’s been a tad restless. Clive looks in every half-hour, so if she starts, don’t worry.’ He stretched out his legs. ‘I’ve made a decision,’ he announced. ‘I’m joining the Royal Air Force, and not bothering with university.’

  She saw he was watching her, but what did he expect her to say? She said what she thought, ‘Why? We’re not at war. Peace in our time, remember.’

  She waved the newspaper at him. He said, ‘You don’t believe that any more than I do. Because I want to be ready to do something, is why. Also, if there is no war, I was looking at the photograph of Chamberlain, with the aeroplane behind him. I think a passenger service will be the way to get around very soon, and if it is, we have land here, enough for an airfield. We could buy planes, and I could fly people to London, or even Paris.’

  She was impressed, and surprised. ‘It would be the best of both worlds, still at Easterleigh, but going everywhere else as well. You’ll need food for the journey. I could cook it.’ Fanny was becoming restless, as James had said, but that might not mean anything. However, Bridie kept an eye on her as she enthused. She forgot there was a future sometimes. ‘You could fly guests to us, as part of the price of their holiday here. Or pick up the disabled – but how would we get them in the plane?’

  James put up his hands in surrender. ‘A ramp, I suppose. But keep quiet about it, as I need to learn the ropes first, and I might not get accepted.’

  Bridie shook her head. ‘Oh no, I’m not going to be the only one to know, again. It got me into enough trouble before. You tell everyone, if you don’t mind.’

  ‘What trouble is that?’ Uncle Richard asked. He was standing at the entrance to the stable.

  Bridie just looked at James. ‘Your turn, I believe.’

  She checked Fanny again, who had settled a bit, so she buried her head in the newspaper as James heaved himself off the stool and left, taking his father with him. Good luck with that, she thought, as she read about the Tory MPs who objected to the agreement, which was, they felt, nothing short of dishonourable appeasement. She was glad she was not alone in her thoughts. Part of her understood, however, because the old were so scared of war after the last one.

  Fanny was restless again, looking around at her flanks, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Bridie went to her, stroked her neck. The mare was sweating. ‘Poor baby,’ she murmured.

  Tim said, ‘And so it begins.’

  She didn’t turn, just wondered how long he’d been there, and now her heart was beating faster. Keeping her voice level, she said, ‘Yes, Clive will be here soon.’

  ‘I saw him, and said I’d do his check for him.’

  ‘How dare you give him orders?’

  ‘It wasn’t an order, it was an offer, so keep your hair on, Bridie, which looks wonderful, I have to say.’

  ‘Well don’t.’

  Fanny moved from one hind leg to the other.

  ‘Alright, I won’t, but let Clive have his drink, the poor beggar. Fanny seems to be progressing.’

  Bridie wouldn’t look at him as she stroked Fanny’s neck, but the mare tossed her head.

  Tim called, ‘I think she wants to be alone.’

  Bridie knew the feeling and left the stall, leaning on the top of the stable door next to him. ‘Don’t we all,’ she said.

  He laughed, and suddenly she was laughing too. They stood together watching the mare. He asked, ‘Are you calling Bertram?’

  ‘No, it’s early yet, and I doubt she needs a vet. She’s done it before and they slip out. Surely you remember?’ She looked at him now, loving his high-boned cheeks, his dark eyes, the lashes that were almost longer than hers, his chestnut hair with the red glint.

  He nodded, ‘Of course I remember. I remember all the years, Bridie. What about the apples we scrumped from Old Froggett? You got stuck up the tree, and James and I had to create a diversion.’

  She wanted to laugh but couldn’t, because too much time had passed, and he was who he was. She replied, ‘Yes, I remember. You threw apples at him, and he called, “You little beggars, I know who you are, and if you think I’m running after you, you’ve another think coming. And you, Bridie, get yourself down, and try explaining that rip in your dress to your mam. That’ll be punishment enough.” ’ She had remembered it word for word.

  Tim said, ‘What did your mam do?’

  ‘Spanked me. So I wore my jodhpurs after that. I thought you said you remembered everything?’

  ‘Well, I clearly lied.’

  For a moment there was an easy silence, broken by Penny calling, ‘Good heavens, this is where you are. Come along, Tim, we need to discuss our anticipated meeting in Berlin. Mother and I so enjoyed our last trip. Don’t be a spoilsport and say you’re too busy again.’

  Tim moved closer to Bridie, whispering, ‘I want to tell you something, but I can’t.’

  She shook her head. ‘I don’t want to hear anything from you, do you understand?’ She heard him leave, and smug-face’s laugh.

  James was watching from the path to the Neave Wing. His heart actually hurt when he heard them talk, then lifted when Penny came. But he had seen from the slump in Tim’s shoulders, and the backward look, that his feelings matched Bridie’s.

  His father had said that he must spend time thinking carefully about the RAF. Well, he just had, and tomorrow he would see if they would accept him. He’d tell his parents of his decision, but not why. Well, not the deep reason, but how could he stay here, when he loved someone so much, and she didn’t love him? The trouble was, he couldn’t hate either of them. He loved them both.
He always had and always would.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Newcastle, November 1938

  Sir Anthony sat at the end of the table. He had arranged a celebratory Peace Club Munich Agreement dinner in Newcastle with the usual guests. Tim thought him pale and preoccupied as Penny regaled them with her experiences of Kristallnacht, or the Night of Broken Glass in Germany, when Jewish businesses and homes were attacked and windows broken. She applauded the subsequent arrest of tens of thousands of Jewish men for the crime of being Jewish, who were then sent to concentration camps to meet up with their compatriots already in situ there. Some Jewish women were also arrested and sent to local jails; the few properties remaining in Jewish hands were confiscated. She laughed, waving her hands. ‘It’s just like house cleaning really.’

  Sir Edgers tapped the table. ‘Here, here,’ he said. His wife clapped.

  Tim stared at his food, unable to eat, such was his disgust.

  Sir Anthony made no comment, but instead voiced his relief at October’s Munich Agreement and the hopes for peace.

  Lady Margaret added, ‘So clever of Herr Hitler.’

  They lifted their glasses, even Tim, but he wouldn’t let the wine touch his lips – though what on earth difference that made to the price of fish, he had no idea. Sir Anthony drank as though parched.

  Later Tim wrote his report to Potty, including every conversation of interest Tim had with any member of the party. It made interesting reading, he was sure, especially the sections on Sir and Lady Edgers. He asked if Potty had any more information on Heine’s roots, so that when he returned to Berlin, he would have a weapon if Heine ever suspected him of anything.

  Tim visited Berlin again in early December, to test the ground and confirm whether Herr Bauer’s initial report to Potty, following the Gerbers’ escape, still remained accurate, and Tim was indeed under no suspicion.

  On his arrival in Berlin, he remembered his training, checking reflections in shop windows as he passed. He jumped on and off trams, doubling back on himself. No-one was following him, and when they had the whole of the Sudeten to sort out, why would they bother about the escape of one Jewish couple? Tim relaxed an iota, but remained vigilant.