by Lynda Stacey
‘Time I was gone. I have to get to York.’
Standing up, he headed out of the back door and briskly walked down the lane that led to the gatehouse.
Chapter Eighteen
February 5th, 1942
Today the sky was grey. It rained for most of the morning and this afternoon while I was sitting with Eddie on the staircase, he suddenly went very quiet and seemed moody. I actually thought that he was preparing to tell me something really bad. But then, out of the blue, he turned towards me, lifted his hand and stroked my cheek with a tenderness that I’ve never previously known. And then, without warning, he kissed me softly on the lips. Not just once, but a dozen times. I can still feel a tingling upon my lips and I’m floating on a cloud of air. Even though he hasn’t said the words, I’m sure that he loves me and I know that I love him. Is it possible that we can love each other so very much, at our age?
I hope that Eddie asks me to marry him soon. I fear that I shall die with anticipation until he does. But Father will never agree and I know the anguish that will be caused when Eddie goes to him and asks for my hand. However, Father will have to allow us to marry, especially if he finds out that we have already kissed. What’s more, I’m sure that if the tower bells hadn’t rung, we’d have still been sitting on the stairs and Eddie would still have been kissing me and, if I’m honest, I really wouldn’t have minded.
Father has gone back to work in London. He will probably stay at the city house for the whole of February and wanted us to go with him but Mother had other plans, so Mary and I have been left behind to stay with her. We spend many hours just sitting in the parlour pretending to sew and do jigsaws or we escape to the kitchen and help cook with the chores. The kitchen has warmth that comes from the range and it’s a relief some days to help with the chopping of vegetables for dinner.
From the kitchen window, I can see Eddie doing his work in the garden. I’m sure that he knows we are there and chooses his workload accordingly so that he can wave to me when he passes the window and knows that cook isn’t looking. I’m sure that cook would prefer her kitchen to herself but the weather is so cold at the moment we have to find something to do, because Mother wouldn’t allow us to venture outside. Taking a walk would give her a panic attack. She is sure we’ll catch pneumonia or slip over in the frost and turn an ankle or two. Which means my time with Eddie is limited to our secret meetings on the staircase at a time when the rest of the house sleeps.
However, I can’t help but feel that I’ve done wrong, but last night it was so cold, we made our way into the secret room. We cuddled up on the bed under a blanket which I’ve stolen from my bedroom. I know this is wrong and I know that both Mother and Father would be furious if they found out, but I also know that Eddie loves me and I know in my heart that I am quite safe and he would not take advantage of the situation.
The war is upon us and food is now rationed. We are so lucky to have the vegetable gardens that Eddie tends so lovingly and, of course, we have our own chickens, pheasants and sheep on the land. Father has built pens in the woods where the animals are kept and hidden; these have been kept for our personal use, just in case the war effort demands that our animals are turned over, which Father really does believe will happen at some point. He also fears that they will take the house. Many houses have been commandeered already to use as nursing homes for the wounded or offices for the military. If that should happen we would all have to move back to London and my time with Eddie will end until the war is over. I’m terrified. How would I live a single day without him now?
The whole family have been invited to a masked Valentine ball at one of the houses in Scarborough, which would be quite a treat in wartime. It means that Father would come home for the night. I’m not sure where they will find all the food, but it’s been promised that it will be a grand affair, everyone will be there and our best dresses will be worn. Mary and I are lucky that we made new dresses just before the war, but I’ve heard that some of the other girls will make their new dresses from old material such as disused curtains and bedding.
Eddie has asked me not to go. I could see in his eyes that he’s scared. He’s frightened that I might meet someone else. Maybe one of the men that Mother wants me to marry, or someone from our own circle, but I’ve assured him that no man would ever compare to him. And it’s true, I would never look, but he’s frightfully upset at the thought of my going out dancing and having fun; yet I have to admit that the thought of a party fills my heart with joy and I can’t bear to miss out, especially after such a bleak, cold and harsh winter.
Madeleine turned over the page but the words had stopped abruptly. It looked as though halfway through writing, Emily had been disturbed because the next entry she’d written was in March and made no mention of the ball, making Madeleine wonder if she’d actually gone at all or whether her love for Eddie had made the decision for her and she’d stayed at home.
Disappointed, she closed the book and phoned Jess.
Chapter Nineteen
‘Seriously, Dad, I can’t ice skate.’ Madeleine protested as her father opened the car door. ‘I really can’t, ask anyone. Ask Jess.’
‘Of course you can. Everyone can skate, it just takes practise, doesn’t it, Jess?’ He held out his hand and both Jess and Poppy jumped out of the car giggling.
Madeleine was amazed at how quickly he and Jess had got along. They’d greeted each other with hugs at the hotel and had chatted about anything and everything during the drive to Whitby, while Madeleine had happily allowed herself to be demoted to the back seat of the Range Rover to keep an eye on Poppy.
‘Mummy, come on. It’ll be fun,’ Poppy screamed as she dragged her grandfather towards the door. ‘Granddad says we can have chocolate ice cream. Two scoops.’ She held her two fingers up in the air in a gesture that made everyone giggle.
Madeleine grabbed her hand and shook her head at how easily bought her daughter was with promises of ice cream and followed them into the building to line up for skates.
‘Jess, I can’t do it. Seriously, I’m like Bambi on ice, both of my legs want to go in different directions at the same time.’ Madeleine pulled on the boots that had been offered and watched as her father helped Poppy with hers.
Jess supressed a giggle. ‘Maddie, don’t be a spoilsport, you’ll be fine. Just hold onto the wall until you feel more confident, or hold onto my hand. I’ll show you.’ She stood up and stamped her feet. ‘I skate all the time on the cruise ships as most of the liners have a rink,’ Jess said as she stood back and waited as Madeleine reluctantly finished pulling on the boots.
‘Hold my hand, don’t leave me,’ Madeleine squealed as she stood up for the first time, wobbled precariously and followed Jess towards the ice. ‘I can’t believe I let my father talk me into this,’ she said with a frown. ‘He said something about the fact that we should have done it years ago and that it’d be a great bonding day; well, let me tell you this, if my backside bonds with the ice just once, especially after falling on it the other night, I’m out of here.’
‘Come on, Mummy, you’re so slow,’ came Poppy’s shrill shriek, but Madeleine couldn’t see her and almost ran to the edge of the ice. ‘Mummy, look at me, Mummy, I’m here,’ she shouted as she raced around the ice holding onto her granddad’s hand. ‘Go on, Granddad, spin me again.’
Madeleine watched as her father repeatedly spun Poppy around on the spot, he turned effortlessly and made each move look easy and she began to wonder where and when he’d learnt.
‘You coming?’ he asked as he passed Poppy to Jess. ‘Come on, I’ll help you.’ Her father held out a reassuring hand and Madeleine took it and stepped onto the ice. ‘One foot, then the other, just slide them, you don’t need to pick them up, not at first.’
Madeleine could feel her nerves as the concentration overtook her mind and she slowly moved one foot and then allowed her father to pull her until she dared to move the other, while all the time, he travelled backwards. Her legs began
to wobble and suddenly she felt her father’s hand steady her. ‘I just can’t do it, Dad. Maybe I’m too old to learn. Maybe, just maybe, someone with two left feet should stay on dry land, or maybe I should go buy the coffees and ice cream. Didn’t you promise Poppy ice cream?’ She looked into his eyes in the hope that he’d give her a reprieve and allow her to get off the ice, but instead she saw a deep, disturbing sadness cross his face.
‘I really thought that by bringing you here, you’d remember.’ He held her with one arm around her waist as though dancing a waltz, pursed his lips and sighed. ‘You could skate, Maddie, don’t you remember?’ He looked up and tears filled his eyes. ‘I used to take you all the time when you were Poppy’s age. We’d go every week. I used to spin you around, you even had a pair of your own boots that I bought for you. You loved being on the ice.’
Madeleine looked at her surroundings and tried to think back. She racked her mind as she felt herself moving over the ice and then looked back at her father’s hopeful face. It was then that she remembered. He’d looked the same then as he did now, fresh and relaxed on the ice, travelling backwards and smiling as she’d wobbled precariously as a child. ‘Daddy, don’t let go. Daddy, look at me, watch what I can do. Daddy, spin me round and round. Daddy, Daddy, am I an ice princess?’ The words went over and over in her mind. She remembered constantly shouting to him, wanting his approval and then she remembered skating alone, travelling around the edge of the rink, with him skating beside her. She looked down at her feet, they’d relaxed and so had her body and suddenly, without thought, she was skating unaided.
‘That’s my girl, you’re doing it, you’re remembering.’
Madeleine nodded her head and once again took his hands, her feet began moving faster and faster. She began to laugh and looked around to where Poppy now stood, watching her in amazement. She then looked back at her father, who took her in his arms and spun her around and around as though dancing a quick step.
‘Do you remember, Maddie? Do you remember us dancing on the ice?’
Maddie smiled and in that moment felt at peace with both her past and her future. She had her father, and Poppy and Jess. She loved them totally and was loved in return and at that moment she felt completely happy for perhaps the first time since Michael had died.
Chapter Twenty
March 9th, 1942
The war is getting worse. The Germans have been killing the Jews and for no apparent reason other than their race. It seems so unfair and Father says that all the available men will soon have been called up to go to war.
What if Eddie has to go? I don’t know how I would cope without him, he’s so young and naive and from what I hear, he’d be fighting against grown men, Germans who’d be trying their best to kill him.
Even though he never says it, I know that he fears this too. Every day I see the frown lines on his face grow deeper and I’ve tried asking Father about ways of keeping men away from the war. He was very vague, but explained that only certain careers or medical conditions could really save them.
I watched Eddie working. He digs the ground much faster these days and seems to be in a hurry to get everything done, just in case he gets the letter and doesn’t have time to complete his work. He’s begun to build a glasshouse. Only the frame at the moment as glass is difficult to come by. He says that the glasshouse is perfectly positioned to grow grapes in the summer and has even installed piping that goes under the ground and is attached to an old railway engine that Father acquired from his job. This will be lit and stoked to create the warmth needed to keep the grapes warm at night. He’s housed it in a brick room to keep the weather away and he even made the bricks himself by squeezing clay into a wooden mould and baking them one by one in the old back to back oven that still remains in the cellar.
Mary has stopped watching Benjamin. She saw him walking out with a girl from the village and as far as I’m aware, they haven’t spoken since. Mary now expects me to spend more time with her and the time I manage to escape and be with Eddie is now very limited because I’m afraid that Mary will be jealous and if that happens she could tell Father what I’ve been doing. So now, I normally wait for her to be asleep and then Eddie and I meet on the back staircase, but most days it’s only for a few moments at a time.
Madeleine put the diary down and allowed her mind to think back over the day before. She’d been ice skating, she’d danced with her father to the music, remembered how he’d taught her as a child and had imagined how it would and should have been like to have a father and daughter dance with him on her wedding day.
Poppy just loved her granddad so much. He’d been amazing with both her and Jess. He’d not only opened his house, but also his arms, giving Jess the biggest hug, when she’d arrived at the hall. They’d become immediate friends and they’d all had such a lovely day, first the ice skating and a boat ride on the sea and then into the warmth where they’d all eaten fish and chips, followed by the promised ice cream at Poppy’s insistence. Madeleine grinned and remembered how sick she’d felt from over eating, but how happy that they’d all been together, enjoying their day and today, today had been a much quieter day, a day of walking, reading and remembering all the times that she had spent with her father, rather than concentrating on the times they’d lost.
But now, it was night. Poppy was fast asleep in her own bed and Madeleine picked up the glass of wine she’d taken up with her, took a sip and then relaxed against the pillows. Her eyes had grown heavy and she allowed herself to surrender to sleep and for just a moment she felt totally relaxed.
‘Mrs Frost, quickly Mrs Frost,’ the sound of Hannah’s voice screamed out on the landing.
There was a sudden thumping and banging on Madeleine’s door. Madeleine had heard her shouts long before she’d been close enough to bang on the door and had already jumped from her bed, knowing that for Hannah to shout like that must mean that something was terribly wrong and Madeleine felt an immediate sense of dread take over her body.
She fumbled with the door. ‘Shhh, you’re going to wake Poppy. What on earth’s the matter?’
Hannah stood before her obviously out of breath, with the colour fast dissipating from her cheeks as she spoke. ‘Miss, there are two policemen. They’re downstairs, saying awful things. You need to come down.’
‘Stay with Poppy,’ Madeleine instructed as she grabbed at her tracksuit bottoms and jumper that she’d taken off earlier. Dressing as fast as she could, she ran into the bathroom, quickly checked her appearance and then headed for the staircase. She took two steps at a time and ran straight into the hallway where the two uniformed men stood.
‘Mrs Frost?’ one of the policemen questioned as she approached.
‘Yes, I’m Madeleine Frost. What’s happened?’
‘It’s your father, miss. I’m very sorry. I’m afraid there’s been an accident.’
Madeleine gasped for air as she struggled to breathe. The room began to spin as though it rotated around her and the floor suddenly took on a soft and doughy texture beneath her feet.
‘Please God, no.’ Her words were barely a whisper as she held onto the staircase for support as she fought back the memory of Michael’s death, the two policemen who’d stood before her back then and the dread of what they’d said next. She’d heard it before, the exact words, yet nothing could have prepared her to hear them again. The policeman indicated for her to sit, but her legs were rigid and refused to move. She stepped forward and gripped the back of a settee in the hope that it would hold her weight. Her knees threatened to give way and her breathing became laboured and shallow. A strangled scream left her throat, the room once again began to spin and her body began shaking with a persistence that took over and wouldn’t stop.
‘What … what happened? Where is he?’ she managed to say.
‘He fell, miss, from the cliff in Whitby. We’re not sure what happened at this stage, Mrs Frost, but I’m sorry to inform you that it may have been suicide. He’s been taken to the mortua
ry. There will have to be a post mortem, it will take place in the morning.’ The words sank in slowly as Madeleine noticed his bottom lip begin to quiver. Her heart immediately went out to him and for no reason she began to wonder how many times he’d had to deliver this same speech before. The only thing more difficult than having to give bad news is to hear it and to know that life from that point forward would never be the same.
‘His personal effects, miss,’ the policeman said as he held out a brown paper bag.
Madeleine stared at the bag and began to open it but the room was suddenly full, there were people all around. Staff members began to congregate, a few guests came out of the bar; all stood in earshot, all were inquisitive, questioning and concerned.
Madeleine tried to think what to do. What would her father do? She knew that he’d always relied upon his team. ‘Bernie, please phone Jack, Nomsa and Bandit. Ask them to come.’ Her thoughts were immediately of the guests and she placed the bag down on the table as she ushered the policemen out of sight and into the library. The guests needed to be settled, tea would need to be made.
They shouldn’t see this. No, they couldn’t see this. What’s more, she had to ensure that they didn’t. This was their time, their holiday and their memories. Father would have been mortified if he’d thought anyone’s stay had been ruined by his untimely death. She felt a sob come from somewhere deep within her. How could this happen? They’d had such a lovely few days, they’d danced on the ice and he’d stood before her and promised that they had plenty of time, that he wouldn’t ever leave her again. Why would he say all of that if he was going to do this? She just couldn’t believe that he might have been contemplating suicide.
She needed to think. She needed to be strong. She needed Jess to come back to the hall. Her eyes squeezed tight; her father had invited Jess to stay here. Madeleine thought it ironic that just the day after he’d put the past where it had belonged had been the day that he died.
