Until the War is Over

by Until the War is Over (retail) (epub)

  ‘I’m determined to continue,’ he asserted.

  ‘Oh, Mother, he must!’ Vicky said. ‘He’s so fortunate, having a place there. I sometimes wish I could study at university, but women hardly ever do, I’m told.’

  ‘A few do obtain places…’ Edmond said.

  ‘Really, Victoria, you have strange ideas!’ Her grey-haired father glared at her. ‘You mustn’t damage your chances of marriage by aspiring to appear intellectual.’

  Amy felt sorry for Edmond’s congenial cousin.

  ‘I don’t want to just stay at home, waiting for a suitor!’ Vicky persisted. ‘Perhaps I’ll become a nurse, like Amy.’

  ‘Don’t be influenced by her, Victoria.’ The girl’s father turned his disagreeable gaze in Amy’s direction. ‘We know about you being sent to jail, young woman!’

  Amy cringed. Would the bad reputation never leave her?

  ‘Really, Uncle Eustace!’ Edmond cried. ‘Amy’s highly respected now for her war work – ask anyone here!’

  At this moment Edmond’s aunt and uncle from the other side of his family were approaching them. She had heard from Edmond that Eustace Harper, Ma’s brother, knew the other Derwent relatives, but only from rare family gatherings.

  ‘That’s right, Eustace!’ Edmond’s other uncle asserted now. ‘Amy has put the misdemeanour behind her.’

  Uncle Eustace threw her one last angry glance before taking his wife’s arm and setting off for the other side of the lawn. Vicky drifted off to speak to Florence, who she had met before.

  Amy had met Uncle Reginald and his wife briefly on her wedding day, when she had been too overwhelmed with excitement to pay them much attention.

  ‘Everyone is proud of you for the way you’re overcoming your setbacks,’ Uncle Reginald told Edmond. He looked a little older than Pa, and stouter. He and his wife were the ones who had taken Edmond abroad one summer before the war.

  ‘It’s all thanks to Amy,’ he replied.

  Uncle Reginald turned to her. ‘I confess we had a few doubts about you, after that time your marriage was interrupted…’

  She felt herself blush.

  ‘…But it sounds as though Edmond made a good choice after all,’ he finished, smiling at her.

  Vicky continued talking to Florence, and soon Amy was able to join them. Lavinia also settled happily with them, and decided it was her turn now to take Beth gently into her arms. The little girl’s fair hair was growing and beginning to curl. She cooed at her new companion in her captivating fashion. ‘Already she looks interested in everything going on around her,’ Lavinia approved.

  ‘Is Emily still nursing at the same hospital as you?’ Amy asked Lavinia.

  ‘No, they’ve sent her to a place for convalescents.’

  Mrs Johnson had brought Elsie along to help serve tea. She was a plump sixteen-year-old with hair almost as fair as Amy’s, and a slow way of speaking. She poured them all cups of tea, slopping milk into one of the saucers. Then she handed around the scones.

  ‘Will there be anything else?’ she asked Amy.

  ‘We’d like some Dundee cake,’ Amy said, knowing Cook had made some of her choicest cakes that morning.

  ‘Listen,’ Lavinia said suddenly, ‘there’s some good news, isn’t there? Women are finally getting the vote!’

  ‘Only if they’re thirty, and own property,’ Florence complained.

  ‘I know, it’s not enough, but it’s a start,’ Lavinia said.

  ‘Remember when we went on our march?’ Florence said, grinning. ‘That must be about four years ago.’ Vicky was listening with rapt attention.

  Lavinia winced. ‘Poor Amy got into dreadful trouble about that, and it was all my fault.’

  ‘I don’t suppose I’ll ever completely live it down,’ Amy said. She could still recall her feelings on the day she had written slogans in the cricket pavilion, a mixture of excitement and guilt. Today Edmond’s uncle had still remembered the serious repercussions of the incident. ‘But, in the end, we haven’t won the vote by our civil disobedience, but by all the work we’ve done in the war.’

  ‘That’s true,’ Lavinia said. ‘We’ve taken occupations once reserved for men, or gone as nurses, and now they can’t pretend any longer that we’re feeble-minded, frivolous little creatures. I’d like to think that when Beth’s grown up she and her friends will have the same rights as men.’

  ‘I haven’t done war work,’ Florence said, sounding regretful, ‘apart from helping refugees and joining the Women’s Working Party, in school holidays.’

  ‘Your teaching work is vital,’ Lavinia assured her.

  ‘I haven’t got any first-hand experience of the war, like you two.’

  ‘I haven’t done anything except help in the local Working Party,’ Vicky said, looking miserable.

  ‘You’re still too young to sign up for war work,’ Amy reminded her.

  ‘I’ve started learning typing,’ the girl said. ‘Father doesn’t approve, of course. But, Amy, I don’t even understand what’s going on in the war. I’m never certain whether the men are fighting in France or in Flanders.’

  ‘Flanders is part of northern France,’ Amy explained. ‘Armentières is there, but Amiens and the Somme are further south in France, as you head towards Paris. The province of Flanders extends east into Belgium – Ypres is there.’

  Vicky wrinkled her brow in concentration, trying to memorise the information.

  Before long Beatrice approached their group. She had been at school with Lavinia, though they were too different to have ever been close friends. Now she was anxious to talk to her. ‘My fiancé is out in Flanders, badly injured,’ she told her, sitting down on an unoccupied chair.

  ‘That’s Captain Shenwood, isn’t it?’ Lavinia said. She was wearing a familiar outfit, a suit which had been fashionable just before the war. Amy supposed that with her commitments as a VAD she had little opportunity to attend to her wardrobe. ‘I’m working at the hospital where they’re treating him. He’s being very brave.’ Amy knew Lavinia had been sent from the hospital near Arras, where she too had once worked, to Ypres, and then, when that hospital had had to be evacuated, on to somewhere near the coast.

  ‘But he’s lost part of his leg – how will he manage? He’ll need a wooden leg, won’t he?’ Beatrice asked, drawing her chair closer to Lavinia’s.

  ‘They’re developing much better artificial limbs now,’ Lavinia told her. ‘It’s an effort for the men to adjust to them, but eventually they become fairly mobile.’

  Beatrice’s pretty face seemed to freeze as she tried to suppress a shudder. ‘How soon do you think they’ll send him back?’ she pursued.

  Lavinia hesitated. ‘They’ll need to be sure his legs are healing well before they let him travel,’ she said. Edmond was listening anxiously. Amy thought Lavinia might be holding back, as though his recovery was not proceeding well.

  Beatrice left them before long, anxious to join Harriet, the close friend she had invited for the occasion. ‘Come and meet her, Vicky,’ she said, enticing her cousin away from their group.

  As Elsie passed their table, Amy reminded her to fetch some Dundee cake.

  ‘Have you heard that it was your cousin James who evacuated Charles from the bombardment when he was wounded?’ Lavinia asked Amy.

  ‘No – I hadn’t heard that.’ She remembered hearing about both casualties on the same day. ‘Is he at your hospital as well? How’s he doing?’

  ‘His leg is healing steadily. He should be ready for a convalescent hospital soon, if they can find a place for him somewhere.’

  It sounded as though the situation out there was still very hectic.

  Florence was staring at Lavinia. ‘Did James actually help during the bombardment?’

  ‘Yes – he put his own life at risk, getting Captain Shenwood away, and that’s how he got injured too. Several of the men have told me how brave he was. And he applied a tourniquet, while they were still under fire, because Charles was bleeding heavil
y.’

  Now Florence looked stricken. ‘I hadn’t grasped that orderlies went into such dangerous situations,’ she said.

  ‘Oh yes,’ Lavinia said, ‘they may have to evacuate men from No Man’s Land. Sometimes they come under fire.’

  Tears appeared in Florence’s hazel eyes. ‘If only I’d realised,’ she said. ‘I wish I hadn’t criticised him for not fighting.’

  ‘I hadn’t heard about him saving Charles,’ Amy said. ‘He’s been very modest in his letters. I don’t think his parents even know.’ I’ll tell them later, she resolved.

  Elsie came to their table and topped up their teacups. Amy reminded her once more about the cake.

  ‘What happened to that woman in the village?’ Lavinia asked presently.

  ‘Margaret Leadbetter? They think she had the influenza which is going around. Her husband is devastated, especially as she died so suddenly.’

  ‘Had she been in contact with someone else who was ill?’

  ‘At first we didn’t think so, but her brother was home from the Front and he’d had cases in his unit. They think troop movements can spread it, don’t they?’

  Elsie finally brought them slices of Dundee cake. It was deliciously spicy, but Cook had not crammed in as much fruit as she used to before the wartime shortages.

  Lavinia passed Beth back to Amy and moved her wicker garden chair a short distance as the sun had come out and was shining in her eyes. Then she sat back and took a sip of her tea from the dainty bone china cup. ‘The first cases of the flu were in an army hospital,’ she said. ‘Most of the men recovered quickly, but since then it seems to have developed into a more virulent form.’

  Amy’s parents came to their table, with Aunt Louisa. They had previously been talking to Edmond and his family.

  Aunt Louisa looked cheery. ‘I missed Amy’s wedding because Harold had just died,’ she said. ‘I’ve so enjoyed this happy occasion.’

  ‘May I take Beth for a little cuddle now?’ Amy’s mother said.

  Amy passed her carefully into her grandmother’s arms and she and her contemporaries walked off, carrying the little girl around the upper level of the garden.

  The party began breaking up as the afternoon became cooler and more windy. Amy’s parents went to say their goodbyes before setting off.

  ‘I’m going to write to James,’ Florence told Amy. ‘I want to tell him how much I respect him for his bravery.’ Soon she left too.

  Amy had persuaded Ma to invite Lavinia to stay for dinner, as she only had a few days of leave. When Amy took Beth to the nursery her friend followed.

  ‘Is Charles making a good recovery now?’ Amy pressed her.

  ‘He’s had a setback,’ she confided. ‘His other leg isn’t healing as they’d hoped. Don’t tell Beatrice, for they may yet be able to save most of the foot.’

  The familiar dread clutched Amy. ‘Don’t let’s tell Edmond either, just yet. It affected him badly when Charles was wounded.’

  She began feeding Beth, sitting in her comfortable rocking chair. ‘Poor Florence, she misses Bertie so,’ she said. ‘I don’t know if she’ll ever marry now, though she’d make someone a fine wife.’

  ‘There aren’t many bachelors left in our age group,’ Lavinia said. When Amy had finished the feed she began preparing Beth for bed, with Lavinia helping.

  ‘I’ve seen a great many young men and helped them in all kinds of intimate ways, as part of my work,’ Lavinia went on. ‘But that may be the closest I come to any of them.’

  ‘Have you ever cared for anyone?’ Amy asked, for her friend seemed subtly changed, softer somehow.

  ‘There is an officer I greatly admire,’ Lavinia said, ‘but he’s not free.’ There was a dreamy expression in her large dark eyes.

  ‘Oh… I see.’ She was concerned but could not think what to say. She hoped Lavinia would not do anything impetuous she might later regret.

  ‘Try not to worry about Florence and me,’ her friend said. ‘At least we both have a vocation.’

  Chapter Nine

  Larchbury and Flanders, July

  Amy was soon receiving news of James from Florence as well as Uncle Arthur. ‘He’s been sent to a different hospital, for convalescence,’ Amy’s friend told her. It seemed the hospitals were still packed with patients and they had had trouble finding him a place. It sounded as though his leg was healing well.

  ‘When he’s better, will he work as an orderly again?’ Florence asked.

  ‘It’s what he wants.’ She and Edmond were sitting with Florence in the garden at The Beeches one Saturday, with Beth beside them in her pram. The nearby bushes of pink roses gave off a sweet perfume but they looked overgrown and untidy without George there to prune them.

  It was midsummer and Amy had been urging Joe, the young gardener, to grow plenty of fruit and vegetables in the kitchen garden. She had encouraged him the previous year, once she was back from France. This year the weather was wetter but she aimed to guide him about when to harvest produce in its prime so they could keep the household well supplied. Other foodstuffs were scarce now and some basics like meat and butter were soon to be rationed.

  ‘They’re trying to recruit young women to work on the land,’ Amy told Florence. ‘Elsie, Mrs Johnson’s daughter, has started work on a farm.’ Apparently the girl was settling to the hard work.

  ‘I thought of doing that in the school holidays,’ Florence said. ‘Some of the older children at school plan to help with the harvest.’

  ‘I can’t imagine you labouring on a farm,’ Amy said, looking at her curiously.

  ‘It would be gruelling work,’ Edmond agreed.

  ‘My parents are very against it,’ Florence said. ‘They think it’s most unsuitable for someone with my upbringing.’ She paused. ‘But I’ve another plan now. I’d like to go out to France to see James. I’ve got a passport from when I went abroad once with my parents before the war. I can go when school breaks up.’

  Edmond’s mouth dropped open. ‘Go to France?’ he exclaimed. ‘It’s not a holiday destination now, you know! You can’t just go there for a jaunt.’

  ‘People visit wounded soldiers, don’t they?’ Florence said earnestly.

  ‘They usually only go to France if the man is seriously ill,’ he told her. ‘Then close relatives might visit. When I was wounded I was fortunate that Amy was near enough to get to Ypres to see me. Peter was in France too.’

  Amy considered. ‘Even Charles’s family haven’t visited him, though I gather his father is very busy and his mother and sisters wouldn’t want to travel without him. It’s the same with Uncle Arthur; he and Aunt Sophie haven’t managed to visit James.’

  There was a determined expression in Florence’s hazel eyes. ‘All the same, I mean to go. I wrote to Lavinia, and she says if I can get to her hospital, which isn’t all that far from the coast, she’ll try to get leave and take me on her motorbike to James’s hospital.’

  ‘You’ve really given this some thought,’ Amy said. Florence was wearing a pretty floral cotton dress, and Amy tried in vain to visualise her on the back of Lavinia’s bike.

  Janet arrived with some refreshments and they enjoyed Cook’s crisp, freshly baked ginger biscuits.

  ‘France isn’t a pleasant place to visit now,’ Edmond insisted. ‘Please don’t go there on a whim.’

  ‘I’ve missed seeing the war at close quarters, like Amy and Lavinia,’ she said. ‘I feel I’ll understand it better if I go there. The children at my school think it’s exciting to go to war – they’ve little idea how horrible it is, unless someone in their family has been killed. I’d like to be better informed, though the pupils in my class are rather young to grasp what’s going on. I may never have children of my own, but my nephews might one day ask me about it.’

  ‘Does Uncle Arthur know you want to go to France to see James?’ Amy asked.

  ‘Yes – James’s parents wish they could go but they’re very much needed here in the parish. They’re pleased I’m g
oing.’

  Amy imagined Florence wandering around war-torn France. ‘Try not to go out on your own after dark,’ she said. ‘I’ve heard of someone who received unwanted advances from an officer. Do your parents know what you’re planning?’

  ‘I haven’t told them yet,’ she admitted.

  ‘Dress soberly and try not to draw attention to yourself,’ Amy said. ‘People may take you for a woman in the VAD, nursing or driving ambulances.’

  ‘And you might want to imply you’re James’s fiancée, to justify your visit,’ Edmond advised her.

  After she had left he shook his head. ‘What is she thinking of?’

  ‘She’s been so miserable since we lost Bertie. It’s good to see her enthusiastic about her plans.’

  * * *

  It was the end of July when Florence found herself alighting from a ship at Boulogne. She had spoken to some of the other passengers, and learnt that even crossing the Channel was dangerous now: the enemy planted mines there. Besides the risks, she still felt queasy from the choppy night-time crossing by some long, oblique route to avoid the most heavily mined areas.

  Here in France the seafront was crowded with men and women in uniform, some of whom had been on her ferry. Most of them were boarding buses or a train on the line that came near the seafront. She remembered the promenade from a pre-war visit: there had been smartly dressed holidaymakers, sauntering along by the sea. She shuddered a little and began to understand Edmond’s plea that she should not go to France on a whim. Her parents were very anxious too. With Father too busy to accompany her and Mother unwilling to travel, they had done their best to dissuade her from going. Eventually they had accepted that she was a little too old now for them actually to forbid her to go. How thankful she was for her earnings from teaching, so she need not ask them for money.

  What business have I to come here? she wondered now. Well, James deserves a visit.

  It was a sunny morning but there was a brisk breeze from the sea. Lavinia had sent her instructions for how to reach the hospital where she was working. She approached a woman in nurse’s uniform, who pointed out a bus going in the right direction, though it was not due to leave till just before midday. The young woman recommended a cheap café, before rushing off to catch a different bus.