Until the War is Over

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

  Beth’s first year had flown past, and for Amy and Edmond it had been full of incident, with more than its share of tragedy. On the very last day of the old year they had heard that Philip Brownlee, the young airman, had died of his wounds; so another local family had been plunged into mourning, along with Alice Shenwood, just as they were thinking the terrors were past.

  Amy had spoken on the phone to Lavinia about this latest loss. ‘They called Father to examine him two days ago,’ she told Amy. ‘Outwardly his wounds were healing but they had failed to notice some internal bleeding. It was too late to save him.’

  ‘Let’s hope he’s the final victim,’ Amy had said, determined the New Year should start on a promising note.

  When they arrived at the party the parlour was decorated with branches of pine that Edmond’s father had sent them. Aunt Sophie was playing an old-fashioned Victorian ballad on the piano. Amy’s father greeted Edmond’s parents. Beth looked around, bewildered by all the relatives. Edmond’s parents were greeting her own relatives, enthusiastically in Pa’s case and more vaguely by Ma.

  Father steered Ma to the most comfortable chair and Pa to the one beside it. The little parlour looked crowded. Amy and Edmond settled next to Florence and James on upright chairs brought from elsewhere in the house.

  ‘I’d have liked to invite Aunt Louisa,’ Mother said, ‘but goodness knows where she’d have sat.’

  Perhaps it was as well, after all, that Beatrice had not come.

  Ma, slightly flustered, dropped her handkerchief on the floor. ‘Look!’ cried Beth, pointing to it, and Amy sent her to return it to its owner. She toddled across to retrieve it and reached up to the sterner of her two grandmothers, who bestowed a smile as she took it back.

  Guests were producing little gifts now. Amy encouraged Beth to help undo them. She and Edmond had bought their daughter a lovely doll, but now there was a stuffed cat which Mother had knitted, for her to take to bed, and a cloth book from her aunt Sophie. Florence had knitted Beth a jacket to wear, in an intricate lacy pattern.

  Pretty in her new woollen dress, Florence was darting to and fro, talking to James, clearing up wrapping paper and taking her turn at cuddling Beth.

  Soon it was time to take their places in the dining room. There was only room for Beth on someone’s lap, and she was passed around from Amy to Florence and then to Edmond as Mother served tea and Mrs Johnson offered the guests slices of pie and other savouries.

  When Amy asked Mrs Johnson about her family she sighed. ‘Poor Elsie is so concerned about Henry,’ she said.

  Amy remembered seeing the young girl with him during his last leave.

  ‘He’s been missing for two months now,’ Mrs Johnson said, shaking her head. She went back to the kitchen, returning later with cakes and a tray of jellies.

  To one side of Amy, on top of a bookcase, the old photo of Bertie smiled down on them. Florence was sitting opposite it and Amy saw her gaze at it more than once.

  Father seemed to read her thoughts. ‘He’d want you to be happy and make a fresh start,’ he told her gently.

  ‘Perhaps it’s time you told everyone your news,’ Uncle Arthur said.

  James was next to Florence, and now he stood up. ‘I’m very proud to say that Florence has agreed to become my wife!’ he announced. She grinned happily as he kissed her.

  Everyone congratulated them. ‘How wonderful to hear some good news,’ Pa said as Father poured glasses of wine to toast the couple.

  Amy hurried around the table to her friend and embraced her. ‘That’s wonderful!’ she said.

  ‘One day we’ll both go to visit Bertie’s grave near the Somme,’ James said.

  ‘Me too,’ Amy said. Many of the fallen were in makeshift graves, but there were plans now to provide well laid out cemeteries near the battlefields to honour them.

  ‘I’ll need to serve in France for a while longer,’ James told them, ‘for many young men are still out there, too ill to come home yet.’

  ‘And what’ll you do afterwards?’ Pa asked.

  ‘I’d like to study at university, like Edmond, if I can secure a place,’ he said.

  ‘So you’ll be trying to support a wife, while studying, like Edmond,’ Ma said, with a note of concern. Ma knew the vicar, of course, and Aunt Sophie from their Working Parties. She had never paid much attention to James.

  ‘Yes, but I hope to join a profession or find a worthwhile occupation as soon as possible,’ he told her.

  ‘Young men have had to serve abroad and many are in this position,’ Pa said. ‘They’re returning as heroes. Why should they be forced to wait to get married?’ He seemed to be aware of James’s bravery, even as a medical orderly.

  ‘He’s our only child,’ Uncle Arthur said. ‘Fortunately we’re in a position to give him some support.’

  Ma seemed at last to be warming to Amy’s family. ‘At least the hostilities are over now,’ she said, smiling. ‘I wish you all the best for the New Year.’

  * * *

  Two days later Florence went with James’s parents to see him off on the train. A cold wind blew along the platform.

  ‘If only there had been time to choose you a ring, darling,’ James said, his arm around Florence while his parents stood a little way away. ‘I’ll request some more leave as soon as possible and we’ll choose you one.’

  ‘I can hardly bear to see you returning so soon,’ she said.

  ‘When the situation becomes clearer we must fix the date for our wedding,’ he promised. ‘You won’t mind living at the vicarage for a while, until I come home for good? There are some spare rooms there we can use.’ It was a sprawling building, intended for an incumbent with a larger family.

  ‘Amy and Edmond have managed,’ she said, smiling. She had once told the vicar and his wife of her former involvement with the Suffragettes and they had seemed to understand. She felt sure they would be easier to get along with than Amy’s mother-in-law and Beatrice had sometimes been.

  The train had not yet appeared: it was running late. Florence snuggled up to James. ‘You know how I always look forward to your letters,’ she said.

  ‘I love writing to you and imagining you beside me,’ he said. ‘By the way, I didn’t tell the others something I want to do now the war is over…’

  ‘Go on…’

  ‘I want to write down my experiences out in Flanders. You’re not encouraged to keep a diary there but I did manage to write one.’ She remembered taking him an exercise book and wondering what it was for. ‘They’re saying this was the war to end all wars, but in a few years from now there’ll be young men thinking that it all sounds a huge adventure, like some of my old schoolmates did when it started. I’d like to remind them of the huge losses, and some of the ghastly effects of the war.’

  ‘You should do that.’ She admired him now for his determination to oppose war.

  There was the sound of the train approaching in the distance, and a puff of smoke was visible. Her future in-laws hurried to wish him well. The train drew into the platform and the vicar helped James into a carriage with his kit. James leant out of the window and she enjoyed a final embrace and kiss.

  Then the whistle blew and she stepped back and waved as the train clanked off. She accompanied his parents back to their pony and trap.

  In a few days school would begin again, to distract her. ‘I’ll miss James terribly while he’s abroad,’ she told the others, ‘but at least we can live normally now, without dreading the arrival of a telegram.’

  They took her back to her family home. How fast James’s leave has passed, she thought. It occurred to her that Caleb Fawcett had not, after all, arrived. She was thankful he had stayed away.

  * * *

  The following Monday Beatrice asked her father to drive her to the station to catch a train to Wealdham, where she did some worthwhile shopping. As she returned, alone, in a first class carriage, she reviewed her friendship with Ernest Leadbetter. The man admired her, that much was clear.
He could talk intelligently on a number of subjects, and as headmaster he held a respectable position. He was tall, but his steely blue-grey eyes and lank hair did not appeal. She had hoped she might grow to care for him, but was beginning to find him dull. Only the lack of healthy young men returning from the war had made her consider him as a suitor.

  The train slowed down as it drew into Larchbury. The stationmaster would allow her to telephone her father and ask him to collect her. As she stepped out on to the platform a young officer was alighting from a second class compartment. It was almost dusk, but she was fairly sure she had not seen him before. He reached the ticket barrier at the same time as she did and courteously indicated that she should go first. She was curious about his uniform, which did not look quite like a British one. She handed her ticket quickly to the familiar man at the barrier and went through into the ticket office. The newcomer followed her, and she began to dawdle, interested to discover who he was.

  He was soon by her side, raising his cap to reveal sandy-coloured hair. It seemed he was anxious to speak to her.

  ‘Excuse me,’ he said in an extraordinary accent which she thought might be American, or possibly Australian. ‘My name’s Caleb Fawcett, and I’m looking for a young lady called Florence Clifford. Would you happen to know where I might find her?’

  Florence – where had she met this confident, good-looking young officer? Beatrice supposed it must have been during her escapade in France during the summer.

  She decided to postpone phoning her father. ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘I do know where she lives. It’s not far from here. Shall I take you there?’

  ‘That’s extremely kind of you.’ For a moment his gaze lingered on her, and she was glad she was wearing her smart coat, well-fitted to show off her tiny waist, and her feathery hat. She had always known she was right to take care of her appearance, when some young women had been so absorbed in war work they had neglected their looks.

  He followed her out into the High Street, and insisted on carrying her shopping bag as well as his own suitcase. They set off through the dusk in the direction of Florence’s home. Will she be there, Beatrice wondered. Has the school term started yet? She thought Ernest had told her school was starting the following day. Even if she was wrong, by now classes would have finished for the day and Florence would be home.

  ‘Have you heard that Florence is engaged now?’ she asked, suddenly remembering that recent piece of news. ‘She’s to marry the vicar’s son.’

  ‘Is that so?’ He sounded disappointed. His steps slowed.

  ‘Have you come far to see her?’

  ‘From France, on leave, but I’ve been seeing London for a few days,’ he said. ‘I guess I’ll need a hotel to stay in while I’m here.’ He hovered, indecisively, under a lamp.

  What attractive light blue eyes he has, Beatrice thought.

  ‘Now I’m here I think I should at least go and see her,’ he said. ‘I’d like to renew our acquaintance.’ They continued on their way.

  * * *

  At last Amy was packing ready to move to Cambridge on Friday. It was late on Wednesday afternoon and Florence had called in after school to help her.

  ‘Is Beatrice still seeing Caleb?’ she asked, an amused twinkle in her eyes.

  ‘Yes – he’s staying at the inn.’ Amy paid attention for a moment to folding some of Beth’s little dresses. ‘When Beatrice introduced him to us I was worried at first, as he said he’d come to see you.’

  ‘I’m engaged to James, and nothing would induce me to change my mind. Caleb was never more than an acquaintance.’

  ‘He keeps calling to see Beatrice.’ The pair of them had just returned from a walk and he was invited to stay to dinner.

  ‘Caleb was friendly when he called to see me,’ Florence said, ‘but he had just met Beatrice, and he was gazing at her as though he had never seen anyone quite like her.’

  ‘Maybe he hadn’t.’

  ‘She was looking at him the same way, and before long they left so she could take him to the inn.’

  ‘I think he’s going back to London soon for another few days before he returns to his unit in France. Beatrice is planning to go to London and stay with a friend while he’s there.’ She was on poor terms now with Harriet and her family, but had found another hostess.

  Florence went on folding Beth’s spare sheets. ‘I wonder – does she know Caleb is just a Warrant Officer?’

  ‘I’ve no idea.’ She wondered if Beatrice would ever consider going to live in America, and could not imagine whether or not that would work out satisfactorily.

  ‘I suppose I’d better go home for dinner now,’ Florence said.

  ‘I’ll see if Pa can take you in the car.’

  Florence hugged her. ‘I’ll miss you so much when you’ve gone,’ she said.

  ‘You’ll be one of the first to stay in our spare room, I promise.’

  * * *

  On Friday they set off in the car with Mr Derwent so Edmond would be ready for the new term. Ellen, the nanny, was accompanying them to Cambridge. Meanwhile a removal firm was taking the last of their belongings to their home.

  ‘There’s not much room at our house,’ Amy warned Ellen. ‘We’ve bought a small bed for the nursery so you can sleep there.’ The nanny was content with this arrangement, for they planned that she should only work for them for a few more weeks.

  Ellen sat in the front of the car, while Amy held Beth in the back, well wrapped up against the chill wind. Edmond sat beside them pointing out cows and sheep to his daughter as Pa drove them. Beth began to doze as they made the tedious journey through London, before stopping at an inn for lunch. There was thin sunshine as they continued their journey in the early afternoon, finally approaching Cambridge. Now I’ll be able to look after Edmond properly, she thought.

  He reached for her hand. ‘At last I’ll have you and Beth here to care for,’ he said. ‘This is just the start. I need to get my degree and a good job so I can support all of us decently.’

  ‘You’ll find a way!’ Certainly, if courage and devotion were enough he would achieve his aims. And perhaps one day they would have another child or two.

  ‘I’ve imagined this day for so long,’ he went on. ‘When we were first married I used to look forward to carrying you across the threshold of our own house.’

  ‘Well you can’t now,’ Pa said firmly, ‘you’re not sufficiently fit for that.’

  ‘Better take Beth and carry her instead,’ Amy said. Edmond unlocked the front door and ceremonially carried his daughter as they all went inside.

  Grace, the maid, had lit the fire and there was a delicious aroma as she prepared a meal for them to eat later.

  ‘It’s really cosy here,’ Amy said. She caught sight of a china bowl of bulbs in the middle of their table. ‘Oh, look! Hyacinths!’

  He smiled. ‘When I wrote to Grace I asked her to get some, ready for your arrival.’

  ‘They’ll be in bloom in a day or two. Look, already you can see a petal showing pink at the tip.’ She even detected a faint perfume.

  The removals van arrived and they had to instruct the men where to take the last of their belongings. Ellen followed Amy as she took Beth up to the nursery and let her help position her toys around the room. Amy’s walking was improving day by day.

  At last they settled in the little dining room as Grace dished up their meal. There was another surprise: a new photograph was hanging on the wall. Amy took a closer look.

  ‘It’s that lovely one of the three of us at Beth’s christening!’ she cried. It had not been there when she last visited.

  ‘I was determined to have it in place for when you arrived,’ Edmond said. It was hanging from the picture rail in a silver frame.

  ‘It’s perfect,’ she said.

  They ate their meal with Pa, who would drive back the following morning. Soon it was time to put Beth to bed. Grace left and Ellen retired to the nursery. Pa told them he was tired and went to settle down in the
spare room.

  There had been so many frustrating delays that living together in their own home had sometimes seemed like an unattainable dream. But here they finally were!

  Edmond took Amy to their own room and drew her into his arms. He leant his warm face against hers.

  ‘At last we’re together for good,’ he said, ‘for tomorrow and all the other days!’

  A Letter From Rosemary

  It’s wonderful to see Until the War is Over published. I’m thrilled to have the backing of Hera Books, and that you have chosen my historical romance to read.

  Once my first book, Until We Meet Again, was published I began getting mail asking me what happened next to Amy and Edmond. I wanted to continue their story in 1918, with their new daughter Beth. Already their world had changed significantly from the life they knew in 1914. Edmond had to adjust to his severe war wound, intending to continue his studies and then begin to support his family.

  By this time the war had lasted over three years, and it must have seemed as though it would never end. Edmond and Amy continued to need all their courage and devotion to deal with further challenges.

  By now others in their circle were facing major struggles too. Edmond’s friend, Charles, was caught up in one of the most desperate battles, while James, Amy’s cousin, faced censure for only serving as a medical orderly.

  In the wards Lavinia had to nurse without such modern aids as antibiotics.

  One historical event of 1918 was the horrific flu pandemic, and as I wrote a chapter where it affected one of my characters I had no idea that a modern epidemic was about to strike. We can see now how frightening it becomes when a new disease spreads rapidly. Fortunately, medical experts assure us that the current epidemic should be much milder.