by Janet Tanner
Alicia’s face lit up. She set down her half-drunk cup of coffee and scraped back her chair.
‘Oh thank you, Father! Will you excuse me? I must tell Hugh!’
She ran from the room leaving the other Morses to wonder just what she would be letting them all in for.
In the days that followed, those days which in other years had been filled with gathering holly and mistletoe to deck the house, supervising the trimming of the eight-foot tall fir tree which always occupied pride of place in the drawing-room, wrapping presents and penning greetings, Alicia was busy making preparations to receive her convalescent officers. Four of the bedrooms on the upper floor were made ready and the old nursery opened up to provide a day room. With fires blazing in the grates to thoroughly air the rooms the whole house seemed a little warmer and brighter. Two village women had been persuaded to come in to help with the preparation but they were amazed and not a little outraged to see Alicia with a scrubbing brush and bucket of water washing skirting boards and window sills alongside them.
‘It’s not right!’ they whispered to one another. ‘ Miss Morse – well, Mrs Bailey as she is now – with her hands all red and spreathed!’
But times were changing. England was at war and Alicia was totally obsessed with getting her convalescent home operational as soon as possible. She had set her sights on receiving her first patients in time for Christmas but this was not to be. The Red Cross were unable to give her the basic training she required until the New Year and so the rooms, smelling of soap and polish and sweet woodsmoke, remained empty and Christmas was celebrated by the family alone.
Because Eric had not been given any leave for Christmas Sarah was invited to Chewton Leigh, she and Stephen motoring over in the smart new Morris which Eric had bought just before the outbreak of war when he had taught Sarah to drive.
‘As far as I am concerned you could have stayed here,’ Gilbert said when they arrived, warmly wrapped up and laden with presents, their faces rosy from the biting wind. ‘But Alicia has taken over the spare rooms.’
‘There is no-one in them yet,’ Leo objected, taking the opportunity to register his disapproval of the conversion of his home into an infirmary.
‘No, but if they are used they will have to be cleaned all over again,’ Alicia said. ‘ We can’t put wounded men in rooms where they might get some infection.’
‘That is all very well, but it is an inconvenience,’ Blanche said haughtily. ‘Leo would have liked to invite Emily Sellers to stay for the holiday, wouldn’t you, Leo?’
‘Her father would never have allowed it,’ Alicia said scornfully.
‘Not without Leo getting formally engaged – and he’s not going to do that.’
For the past year Leo had been paying court to Emily, whose father, the Reverend Michael Sellers had the living of the next parish. But whenever the family teased him about the imminence of wedding bells Leo made it crystal clear that he had not the slightest intention of walking down the aisle with Emily or anyone else for a good long while.
‘That is as may be but I still say it is an inconvenience. Rooms empty, people wanting to stay and not able to, and all because of a handful of officers who may not ever arrive.’
‘Please don’t worry on my account,’ Sarah said hastily. ‘I am quite happy to go home …’ She broke off, suddenly aware of Hugh, sitting in the deep wing chair beside the roaring fire.
‘Hello Sarah. My goodness, you are a sight for sore eyes.’ His voice was light, amused as ever, but it was a parody somehow of the old gaiety and she thought how much thinner and older he looked, as if he had left the last of his boyhood rosiness in the mud of France. ‘I’m sorry I can’t get up. You’ll have to come over here to wish me a merry Christmas!’
She did so, offering him her cheek because she knew it was expected of her but feeling a prickle of revulsion, nonetheless. Was it just imagination or was there a lecherous look now in those slightly sunken blue eyes? Was his true nature beginning to show through or was it simply that knowing him for what he was gave her the perception to see what had always been there?
‘Mama – there’s a present for me hanging on the tree! I can see it – it’s got my name on it!’ Stephen trilled.
‘Is there? Just imagine, Father Christmas must have known you would be here!’
‘Mama, I want to open it? Please may I?’
‘Later. You must be patient, Stephen.’
‘Have an orange, old chap.’ Hugh took one from the bowl on the small pedestal table beside it and offered it to Stephen. ‘Or would you prefer some nuts? I can’t reach those, but if you’d like to bring me some and the nutcrackers I’ll break them open for you.’
Stephen ran off in search of the nutcrackers and Hugh said: ‘He’s a fine boy, Sarah. Eric is a lucky man.’ But the expression in his eyes told Sarah that it was not so much Eric’s good fortune in having Stephen as a son that he was referring to as the fact that he envied the easy access to Sarah. She felt the colour rushing to her cheeks and spun round afraid the others might notice something amiss. But they were laughing and chattering with the effervescent good cheer of Christmas morning. Only Alicia was looking at them, violet eyes narrowed like a cat’s, one corner of her mouth raised quizzically. This morning, in a cherry red skirt and high-necked white blouse trimmed with cherry ribbons she looked much more like her old self.
‘Well Sarah!’ she said playfully. ‘Christmas without our husbands! What ever shall we do?’
But Alicia did not have to spend Christmas without her husband. To everyone’s surprise Adam arrived in time for lunch having been given permission to leave the camp, where everything had stopped for Christmas, and drive over from Upavon.
When she heard his voice in the hall Sarah’s heart began to pound unevenly and she wondered if he would ever fail to affect her in this way – especially when she was taken unawares. But at least she had become practised at concealing her feelings. When he came into the room she was sufficiently in control of herself to greet him as she would have greeted any old friend and when Alicia took his arm, leading him over to the fire, she was able to hide the sharp pain that could still catch her like a stitch in her side to see them together.
Adam was in uniform and very well it suited him, Sarah thought, the double-breasted cut of the jacket seeming to lend breadth to his chest and the high boots making his legs look long and muscular. The sight of the uniform fascinated Stephen too. He gave up bothering to be allowed to open his Christmas tree package and attached himself to Adam instead, pointing at the various buttons and buckles and asking: ‘What is that for? Why have you got so many of those …?’
‘Stephen, do leave Uncle Adam alone for five minutes!’ Sarah told him but Adam merely smiled.
‘He’s not doing any harm, Sarah. Did you know, Stephen, that your daddy has a uniform like this one?’
‘And what is happening to the war whilst you are here enjoying Christmas luncheon?’ Leo asked when the meal had been served.
‘It has stopped.’ Adam looked around the table, saw the incredulous faces and smiled. ‘True. Hostilities have ceased, for today at least. Both sides have laid down their weapons and are celebrating Christmas behind their lines.’
‘Good God!’ Hugh said. Alicia had helped him to the table; now he sat between her and Blanche and, to her discomfort, opposite Sarah. As he toyed with his food she noticed a quiver in his hands that had not been there before and occasionally his head jerked upwards with a peculiar flicking movement. ‘Good God!’ he said again.
‘Exactly.’ Gilbert piled vegetables onto his plate and passed them around the table; there were not enough staff to serve them now, especially on Christmas Day. ‘ Christmas is, after all, a time of good will to all men.’
‘Unfortunately it won’t last,’ Adam said. ‘At the stroke of midnight it will all begin again.’
‘I suppose you must be pleased about that,’ James said. His tone was defiant.
‘What the devil d
o you mean by that?’
‘Exactly what I say. It would have been disappointing for you not to have the chance to do a bit of fancy flying over the German lines and perhaps to kill a few of your fellow men.’
There was a moment’s shocked silence. Gilbert fixed him with a cold glare.
‘There is no need to be offensive, James.’
‘It’s all right, Gilbert,’ Adam said nastily. ‘I know James has strong feelings on the subject of war.’
‘Feelings which disgrace us all!’ Hugh was less inclined to let the remark pass, and Alicia, laying down her knife and fork, joined in.
‘How dare you say such things, James, with your own brother wounded in the service of his country?’
‘I don’t care what you say, fighting and killing are not the way to settle anything,’ James defended himself. ‘There have to be better ways.’
‘Such as what?’
‘Talking things over – compromise.’
‘Standing aside and letting a bully walk all over you, you mean.’
‘No, what the Kaiser is doing is wrong, not a doubt of it. But so is war. Two wrongs don’t make a right.’
‘Talking to a bully does no good. There is only one thing he understands – and that is force,’ Hugh maintained.
‘You would say that!’ James’s face was pink now. He disliked arguments almost as much as he disliked physical violence. ‘You have always settled your arguments with your fists, Hugh. I haven’t forgotten how you and Lawrence used to fight. There was one time – I shall always remember it – when the two of you had a fight in the stables and you made Lawrence’s nose bleed and blacked his eye. What good did it do? I don’t remember what it was about and I don’t suppose you do either but …’ He broke off. The hush around the table was no longer the silence of a family biting their tongues not to say something which would spoil the Christmas meal but a silence full of horrified embarrassment. The blood had drained from Sarah’s face, Blanche looked thunderstruck, while Lawrence, Hugh and Alicia wore expressions of varying degrees of guilt and fury. Only Leo looked faintly puzzled and little Stephen, totally unaware of the impact of James’s words, continued to munch happily.
Gilbert looked from one to the other of them. ‘Whilst I am aware you boys were always scrapping when you were young I can’t say I recall anything so serious.’
Alicia gave a short forced laugh. ‘I expect James is exaggerating as usual. It is known as artistic licence.’
‘But a bloody nose and a black eye! I’m sure I would not have forgotten something like that. Or does the artistic licence extend that far? Well, James?’
‘Yes, sir. I mean …’ James was stuttering now, realising that he had stumbled into forbidden territory.
‘Yes you invented the bloody nose?’ Gilbert persisted. ‘You mean to say you are a liar as well as a coward?’
‘Father, really!’ In spite of her earlier outburst Alicia now rushed to his defence. ‘ James is neither a coward nor a liar. It’s just that he has … convictions.’
‘And illusions.’
‘No. The fight he is referring to happened while you were away. In France. It was a very long time ago.’
‘Not so long ago but that you all seem to remember it very clearly,’ Gilbert said drily.
‘I think I should have stayed at Upavon!’ Adam remarked in an effort to restore a good humoured atmosphere. ‘There is a good deal less shot and shell there!’
‘How true!’ Blanche said hastily, steering the conversation away from dangerous waters. ‘Stephen has finished eating, I see. I suggest we allow him to open the present Father Christmas left for him on the tree. After all he has been a very patient little boy.’
‘What a good idea!’ Alicia leaped up, fetching the ribbon-trimmed package and helping Stephen to untie the bows. ‘What is it, Stephen? Shall we see?’
As he tore aside the paper to reveal a toy merry-go-round, each horse on its barley-sugar pole beautifully carved, Sarah watched, but her hands were twisted tightly together in the folds of her skirt and her forced smile was making her cheeks ache. Feelings in this family ran as high as ever, memories were long. Not even a war could erase them. But at least they were all as anxious as she was to prevent Gilbert discovering the truth of what had happened that long ago day. Concentrating on Stephen and his new toy she avoided the eyes of the others and longed for the time when she would be able to take her son and drive home away from all of them.
From all of them except of course Adam.
She stole a glance at him, bending over to show Stephen how to wind the handle on the merry-go-round to make it turn and the horses rise and fall on their poles, and wished for a sharply aching moment that he was coming with her. But Adam was Alicia’s husband and had been now for more than four years. In some ways it seemed a lifetime since he had been hers, in others just yesterday.
With a determination born of long practice Sarah pushed the treacherous thought away.
When the works resumed full production after the short Christmas break Sarah went to see Gilbert in his office. For some time now she had been feeling increasingly dissatisfied with the part she was playing – there was little need now for brochures and catalogues proclaiming the attributes of Morse Bailey machines for every aeroplane turned out by the works was to Government specification and the work which kept Max busy was more secret than the love letters of a king to a courtesan. Sarah hated to feel useless and her frustration had been fuelled by the discovery that Alicia had plans to do something positive for the war effort.
There must be something she could do, Sarah had thought, racking her brains in the long lonely hours when Stephen was in bed and asleep. But when the idea had come to her, it had set her pulses racing with excitement.
She would learn to fly. It was something she had longed to do from the first time she had seen an aeroplane but Eric had forbidden it. Now Eric was no longer here to stop her. Besides, how could he justify doing so when it would be her contribution to the war effort? For there must be jobs for anyone who could fly, even a woman – ferrying aeroplanes, perhaps, making deliveries and air drops of mail and supplies; when every trained man was needed for really dangerous and taxing missions there must be a niche for her … The more she thought about it the more enthusiastic Sarah grew and she resolved to take the matter up with Gilbert without delay.
She found him in his office poring over the latest set of instructions from the Royal Aircraft Factory. When he saw her he set them aside, sitting back in his chair and smoothing the tired furrows between his eyebrows with his fingers.
‘Sarah, nice to see you!’
‘I hope you still think so when I tell you why I’m here.’
He smiled wryly. ‘ That sounds ominous.’
‘Not really. But I’m not quite sure if you will approve of what I am going to suggest – and I do so want you to.’
He laughed as he always did at her forthrightness. ‘Well, Sarah, what is it you want?’
‘I want to learn to fly.’
‘Good Lord!’
‘I thought you’d be surprised but …’ She launched into the speech she had prepared and he listened, fingers pressed together.
‘Sarah, I don’t think it’s possible,’ he said when she finished. ‘The flying schools are mostly occupied with training young men for the RFC and the RNAS. There is a civilian school at Hendon it’s true. But I fail to see what use you could be, and I don’t think it would be right for you to take up aircraft and instructors who would be better employed training pilots. No, I’m sorry but I couldn’t approve such an idea.’
‘But I feel so useless!’ Sarah pleaded. ‘Alicia has her convalescent home after all while I …’
‘What would become of Stephen while you were away?’ Gilbert asked. ‘I know he is at nursery school now but didn’t his nanny leave to get married last year? Isn’t that one of the reasons you have been leaving the office early on the days you have been working?’
‘Y
es – it didn’t seem necessary to replace her but of course if I were away I would have to make some arrangements. I realise a lot of suitable girls have gone off to become nurses but if I ran into difficulties I am sure Annie would be only too pleased to help me out. Stephen and John are very good friends and Annie adores him.’
‘Hmm.’ Gilbert looked thoughtful. ‘In that case I am going to make a suggestion. Why don’t you help Alicia with the nursing home?’
Sarah gazed at him in dismay. The idea was ludicrous – she and Alicia, sworn enemies, working so closely together! Worse, since the convalescent home was Alicia’s idea, she would be the one in charge. The very thought of having to do as Alicia told her was anathema to Sarah. Yet Gilbert was quite serious in putting forward the suggestion. Would he never learn that the two girls could never be friends? Would he never stop trying to force them together?
‘You don’t have to make a decision now. I know it is not quite what you had in mind but it is altogether more suitable and if you wish to aid the war effort I know you will give it your serious consideration.’ Gilbert paused, looking at her. ‘Besides, there is something I would like you to do for me which would give you the chance to see something of what the work would be. Alicia is going to Bristol for a week or so to learn the rudiments of First Aid. Her convalescent home will not involve any real nursing, of course, but there are certain things she needs to know. I wondered if you would come to Chewton Leigh and look after Hugh while she is away. He is much better now but Alicia feels he should not be left alone.’
Sarah’s hands and feet had begun to prickle uncomfortably.
‘Surely Blanche …’
‘Blanche is no nurse.’
‘You said no nursing was involved.’
‘Not as such. But convincing Blanche of that is quite another matter. Anyway she has other commitments.’ He said it indulgently, with a twinkle that told Sarah he knew Blanche’s ‘other commitments’ were nothing more than an excuse. ‘I would be very grateful, Sarah, if you would do this – as a favour to me.’
