Until the War is Over

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

  ‘I suppose so,’ she said, unwillingly. ‘I must be fit for the dance tomorrow.’

  He knew she was determined to attend, at least for part of the evening.

  The day was cold again, with the sun appearing only fleetingly. On his bike the journey took only a quarter of an hour but he could feel the cold air sharply in his scarred lung.

  Alderbank had a small village centre, surrounded by several large houses and estates. Slightly to the west of his route lay the turreted stone house which was home to Colonel Fairlawn and his family. The Westholmes lived near the railway station, while Charles’s family lived between the village and the outskirts of Wealdham.

  He reached the Shenwoods’ handsome house, set in ten acres of grounds. The butler admitted him and led him towards the drawing room. As he approached there was the sound of someone playing the piano confidently, though not as proficiently as Beatrice. When he went in he saw it was Lavinia. Charles was sitting on the sofa, his legs covered.

  They both looked pleased he had come. Charles looked healthier than when Edmond had last seen him, just after Beatrice had ended their engagement. Now his eyes were lively and sparkling again. He and Lavinia were casually dressed.

  She enquired after Amy, and Edmond was able to reassure her that the swelling on her foot was subsiding gradually.

  ‘I came here for Christmas,’ Lavinia said, ‘and as you can see, I’m back again. I managed to arrange another day off.’

  ‘We were just about to go for a ride in the grounds,’ Charles said. ‘I try to go out most days, though it’s been cold lately. You’ll join us, won’t you?’

  They put on outdoor riding clothes but it was chilly as they made their way to the stables. The gardener, who looked a little too young to have been called up, brought out three horses and saddled them. With Edmond’s assistance, and some difficulty, the young man helped Charles into the saddle of his favourite bay. There was a grey for Edmond, and a slightly smaller one for Lavinia, who mounted with the appearance of a confident horsewoman.

  They set off along a track which led through an avenue in the grounds. ‘I’ve always loved riding here,’ Charles said, ‘and now it makes ideal exercise.’ They continued down a lane for a while before turning back.

  How well he’s managing, Edmond thought, though a wind was getting up and they were all a little relieved when they were heading back towards the stables.

  They warmed up by the fire in the drawing room and he felt his cheeks begin to glow as they sipped glasses of sherry before lunch.

  Edmond gave him an account of his life at Cambridge. ‘It’s stimulating to be back there,’ he told them, ‘but I’m impatient for Amy and Beth to arrive. In less than two weeks we should all be at home there.’ Sometimes it seemed like an impossible dream, for there had been so many delays and setbacks.

  ‘I’m determined to follow your example and overcome my problems,’ Charles said.

  ‘Do you plan to study or find an occupation when you’re fitter?’

  ‘It’s too soon to decide yet,’ Charles said, ‘but I need some worthwhile activity. As for Lavinia, I want her to have some life outside the home.’

  ‘I’m prepared to give up work for a while if we have children,’ she said, more gently than he had heard her speak before. ‘Bringing up a family is a vital role for a woman, though she should pursue other interests if possible.’

  ‘Yes, of course, dearest, you have a worthwhile vocation and may wish to return to it one day.’

  ‘Amy talks of that too,’ Edmond said, ‘though she’s not in a rush to work again.’

  ‘Apart from her nursing, I’ve always imagined Lavinia taking a lead in some way,’ Charles said. ‘I believe politics might suit her now there are more opportunities for women.’

  His future wife’s eyes lit up at the suggestion and Edmond agreed he could visualise her in that kind of capacity. We would never have talked of such a possibility before the war, he thought.

  Then the butler summoned them to lunch. They helped Charles into his invalid chair and Lavinia wheeled him through to the dining room.

  They joined his mother and two sisters at the table. The cook served them a pie and winter vegetables, while Mrs Shenwood made a predictable apology about shortages. ‘Let’s hope the food supply is back to normal soon,’ she said.

  Isobel, the older sister, was elegantly dressed and enquired if Edmond had attended the theatre recently. She reminded him somewhat of Beatrice, and did not seem especially eager to talk to Lavinia. Alice, the younger sister, was friendly and livelier. The parents were kindly and ready to praise Charles’s fiancée for the care she lavished upon him.

  Amy will be glad to know that Lavinia is appreciated by most of her new family, Edmond thought. How good she is for Charles!

  ‘How is Philip progressing?’ Edmond asked Alice.

  ‘They say he should recover,’ said the slender younger sister. ‘Knowing him, he’ll be determined to fly again!’ she added ruefully.

  A servant came in and banked up the fire with fresh logs.

  ‘My family begged me to return before the daylight begins to fade,’ he told the others. ‘The evening may bring a frost.’ They were still not resigned to him travelling on the bike.

  ‘My motorbike is still in France,’ Lavinia said nostalgically. ‘I wrote and told another nurse she could use it, and as far as I know she’s still out there.’

  Before long it was time for him to leave. ‘Tell Amy to go on taking plenty of rest,’ Lavinia said. ‘She’s not still determined to dance tomorrow, is she?’

  ‘I’ll try to persuade her to be sensible,’ was all he could say.

  ‘She’ll want to join in, won’t she?’ Lavinia said, sounding frustrated.

  ‘Amy has always taken up challenges instead of favouring a quiet life,’ he said. ‘I suppose we all have.’

  * * *

  Amy was excited at the prospect of the dance. On the day, Edmond’s cousin, Vicky, joined them for lunch and commented favourably on Amy’s new confidence at walking. ‘I’m so glad it’s all working out for you and Edmond,’ she said.

  ‘I hope soon we’ll be together for good,’ Amy said.

  Peter had invited his friend, Robert Lambert, who Amy remembered meeting in France. She was a little embarrassed that he knew what had happened between her and Wilfrid Fairlawn, but felt she could rely on him to keep her confidence. He was sitting next to Beatrice, who was eager to talk. Amy imagined she was hoping to find a successor to Charles. Beatrice would have no idea that Robert was involved in prosecuting Wilfrid, and he would have no inkling that she was another of his victims.

  Vicky was beautiful now she was a poised eighteen-year-old. ‘Have you made any progress with your plans for the future?’ Amy asked her. Vicky had shown an interest in nursing.

  ‘I wondered whether to find work in an office,’ she said. ‘But I’m still eager to do nursing, like you. They’ll need nurses, even though the war is over.’

  Beatrice looked in their direction. ‘What do your parents think of your plans?’ she asked her cousin. ‘I daresay they’d prefer you to stay at home and enjoy social events.’

  ‘They might, but now that way of life seems dull,’ Vicky said firmly. She told them about her visit to a London hospital to discuss training for the profession. Beatrice looked bored, but Robert seemed interested.

  As the afternoon wore on Beatrice’s concerns turned to her hair. She was sorry Janet had left to look after her relatives, for she had been gifted at styling hair. Eventually Mrs Derwent had asked the former maid to return to work just for the evening, to arrange Beatrice’s hair and help serve the buffet.

  ‘She might arrange Amy’s hair as well,’ Ma suggested.

  ‘What about Vicky?’ Amy asked. ‘Would you like her to put your hair in ringlets or make curls on top of your head?’

  ‘Oh, I should love ringlets,’ the young girl said.

  Beatrice insisted that Janet spent sufficient time arr
anging her chestnut locks to her complete satisfaction. Amy was content with two well-placed curls upon her head and then passed on the maid to Vicky.

  Amy’s new gown, made especially for the party, was a simple style in pretty blue satin. ‘You look wonderful, dearest,’ Edmond said, fastening her amethyst pendant around her neck; he had given it to her for Christmas. ‘But you mustn’t overdo the dancing.’

  ‘My ankle’s just better enough to wear dancing shoes for an hour or two,’ Amy insisted.

  * * *

  They were soon meeting the guests downstairs. Vicky looked enchanting in her ivory-coloured dress, with auburn ringlets cascading onto her shoulders.

  ‘We used to have a huge pine tree from the forest decorating the ballroom,’ Edmond said.

  ‘Yes! It’s one of the things I remember from that evening when I first attended the dance here!’ Amy said.

  ‘We used to dig up suitably sized pine trees and sell them each year,’ Pa said. ‘Lately there’s been no demand for them and we’ve had to stop having our own Christmas tree. They became very unpopular during the war, because they’re regarded as a German tradition.’

  ‘Perhaps we can start having them again in a year or two,’ Amy said.

  There was an air of excitement, for almost all those invited had made an effort to attend this year, as a token that better times were on the way. Yet few could completely feel free to enjoy themselves, aware of all the losses that had been suffered.

  Florence arrived, escorted by James. How lovely she looks, Amy thought, with her hair becomingly arranged. Her turquoise-coloured evening gown was not new, but she had trimmed it with some fresh velvet ribbon. Amy’s parents joined the couple, acknowledging their increasing closeness, seeming to accept that, while Florence would never forget Bertie, she was ready to find happiness elsewhere.

  Amy followed her parents as they went to talk to Mr Leadbetter, who had decided to come, although it was not many months since he had lost his wife to the flu. Peter joined the group, keen to talk to Amy’s father, his former tutor.

  ‘It’s too bad you’ll have gone back to France by Beth’s birthday,’ he said to Peter.

  ‘Can’t be helped, I’m afraid. I gather you’re entertaining on the first to mark the occasion.’

  ‘We’ve invited your family,’ Amy’s mother said a little nervously.

  The Derwents had briefly employed Mr Fletcher as tutor when Peter and Edmond had been boys. They had only once visited the little house in Sebastopol Terrace, soon after Edmond and Amy had become engaged. Amy wondered if Mrs Derwent was prepared to visit again, but her husband was determined they should all go.

  ‘I’d love to help you prepare for Beth’s party,’ Amy said. ‘I can make the cakes and jellies.’ She knew there was much packing to do before they set off for Cambridge, but Mother deserved some support.

  ‘I won’t have you do any such thing,’ Mother replied. ‘It’s not long since you were in hospital, and you need to rest your leg, besides getting ready for your move.’

  ‘But you’ve given up so much of your time to looking after Beth for me!’

  ‘Mrs Johnson has promised to help me with the cooking,’ her mother said.

  Soon they moved into the next room for supper. Now Vicky was with a few others around her own age and there were stifled giggles from their direction.

  ‘They’re ready to move on from the war, aren’t they?’ Florence said. ‘There are young men who were born just too late to have played any part in the conflict, and women too young to have served in any important capacity. Unless they’ve lost someone close they’re eager to have fun.’

  ‘You’re right,’ Amy said.

  Then someone mentioned Philip Brownlee. There was fresh concern about him.

  ‘His family have gone to Flanders to see him,’ Mr Leadbetter told them. ‘I gather he’s suffered a setback.’

  Edmond looked tense at the news.

  With the more mature guests, the chief topics of speculation were how soon their surviving relatives could return from France, and how they might settle back to peacetime occupations.

  ‘They say some men will remain abroad for a while,’ James said. ‘There’s to be an army of occupation in Germany. They’ll begin to plan it as they start to negotiate the peace treaty at Versailles next month.’

  For those with relatives who would never return there was seldom much to be merry about, and excessive frivolity was soon met with stern glances. They discussed the memorials to the dead that were proposed.

  Mr Derwent had managed to assemble a quartet of musicians for the evening, as he had for the parties a few years earlier. Soon they were tuning up and guests began moving back into the ballroom. The younger ones were expected to dance, while others were prepared to watch.

  Edmond’s parents started the ball as usual, though his mother was still not in full health and probably would only dance once or twice. As other guests joined them on the floor Edmond seized Amy’s hand and they began to glide around the floor together. He held her firmly and she put as little weight as possible on her bad foot. Somehow she managed to complete the dance, thrilled at her newly revived ability.

  At the end of the first dance she and Edmond exchanged contented glances.

  Mother hurried around the dance floor to speak to her. ‘Are you all right, dear?’ she asked. ‘It’s very soon after your plaster has come off.’

  ‘Yes, I know I mustn’t overdo it,’ she said. ‘Don’t let that stop you dancing, darling,’ she said to Edmond.

  Nearby James was holding Florence close. They seemed to be oblivious to the guests around them.

  Peter’s friend Robert engaged Beatrice for a waltz, but then turned his attention to Vicky, who practically sparkled with excitement. As Robert continued to dance a lively polka with her, Beatrice stood, without a partner, looking sour. This time last year she had just announced her engagement to Charles. For a brief moment Amy felt sorry for her. Her sister-in-law must be the most expensively dressed woman in the room, but the layers of lace now looked excessive, for most women had turned to simpler styles in the years of war, when there were other issues claiming their attention. There had been a trend to more comfortable garments when women were taking war work, but Beatrice was still fiercely corseted. She was nearly twenty-six, and with her indolent life what did she have to talk about, apart from her occasional visits to the theatre and her shopping expeditions?

  Between dances James hovered by Florence’s side, but he seemed content for Edmond to claim her for a waltz.

  Amy stood beside Beatrice. ‘Edmond’s looking well, isn’t he?’ she said. ‘I believe he’ll stay up for most of the dance tonight.’

  There was a pause between dances, but Robert remained at Vicky’s side. ‘What a little minx my cousin is!’ Beatrice said. ‘She’s planning some busy future involving nursing but she doesn’t hesitate to flirt with an eligible man.’

  Amy made no reply, delighted to see Edmond’s cousin enjoying the evening.

  Mr Leadbetter now approached. ‘I wasn’t intending to dance this evening,’ he said, ‘but I believe my late wife would not have wished me to retreat from social encounters altogether. Beatrice, would you care to take the floor with me?’ he asked her.

  For a moment she hesitated and Amy could imagine her deciding it would be preferable to be dancing with a man who was not her first choice of partner than to remain a wallflower. She let him lead her into the waltz and responded with her usual grace and style.

  Soon Edmond was back. ‘Can you manage another dance, darling?’ he asked her. She wished she had concentrated more on resting her ankle earlier in the day. Could they actually repeat that magic circuit of the dance floor?

  ‘It had better be another waltz,’ she said, anxious not to embark on anything vigorous. When another one began, he took her in his arms. How good it felt as he led her around the floor.

  ‘Remember four years ago, when I first danced with you?’ he said.
r />   ‘I’ll never forget that evening, though it seems like a lifetime ago. I was very worried about what your family would think of me, but I knew you were the man I should be with.’ Florence and James drifted past them. This time they were the ones who were entwined in an enchanted world of their own.

  As the music ended Edmond held Amy close and kissed her tenderly.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Larchbury, December 1918 to January 1919

  The following day Peter had to return to Headquarters in France. Ma stayed at home while Pa drove Beatrice into Larchbury village for some shopping, then took Edmond and Amy to see Peter off at the station.

  He wished them all a warm farewell and climbed into his train. Soon Pa was driving them back. As they travelled along the High Street they saw a couple emerging from the tearoom. It was Mr Leadbetter, whose term had not yet started, and Beatrice, in a smart coat and large feathered hat.

  ‘I didn’t know she was meeting him,’ Edmond said.

  ‘She just asked me to drop her off outside the shoe shop, so she could look for new boots,’ Pa told them, shouting over the noise of the car. ‘I hadn’t expected Bea to show much interest in him. She seems determined to seek a husband.’

  ‘He can’t decently remarry for a while yet,’ Edmond said.

  Beatrice still had a beautiful pristine wedding dress in her wardrobe, Amy remembered. ‘There’s still time for her to meet some officer returning from the war,’ she said.

  * * *

  On the first day of the New Year Amy’s parents were holding their little party to celebrate Beth’s first birthday. Beatrice said she had rather not come, as she had a headache, but Pa drove the rest of them into Larchbury.

  Amy held her daughter in her arms, as she wriggled, anxious to escape the confined space. She was learning to speak a few words now, and developing a mind of her own. Her dress of fine wool was trimmed with a small panel of Belgian lace, for Pa had driven Amy into Wealdham one day and she had spent some more time with Madame Rousseau.