by Daisy Styles
‘Well, I wouldn’t go that far,’ giggled Maudie, who, at that particular moment, had more stars in her eyes than anybody.
‘Considering we’ve got a lot to worry about, what with the bombed-out base and more mouths to feed, you’d think we’d be as miserable as sin,’ Ava said, as she whisked the mixture for the savoury pancakes they’d be serving up for lunch.
‘I suppose we’ve got far better things on our minds,’ Ruby said, with a knowing wink. ‘I know I have!’
Ava grinned at Ruby, who was glowing with love.
‘Can we turn our minds to the here and now instead of the joys of a double bed?’ Ava teased. ‘I was thinking of filling the pancakes with corned beef and baked beans.’ Seeing Bella’s disapproving look, she added, ‘Got any better ideas, lady?’
‘Peter shot some pigeon in the barley field ‒ they were eating all the ripening grain. Don’t panic, they’re plucked!’ She laughed when she saw the look on Ava’s face. ‘I could casserole them with some beans and tomatoes, that might work.’
‘Pigeons, yuk!’ Ava grimaced.
‘Honestly, you squeamish town girls, you don’t know what’s good for you,’ Bella teased.
‘I’d prefer to eat meat that’s not wearing feathers or a fur bonnet!’ Ava retorted.
The girls continued chatting as they went about their different jobs.
‘I was so scared when I thought I’d lost Raf,’ Ruby said, putting the bowl of pancake mixture she’d prepared in the cold larder. ‘It made me think we’ve got to live every moment as if it’s our last.’
Ava smiled as she lit up two Woodbines, one for herself and one for Ruby.
‘You’re dead right, lovie,’ she said, exhaling cigarette smoke. ‘God only knows what tomorrow will bring.’
On a regular basis, to keep the Walsinghams and Timms sweet, there were certain duties the girls below stairs had to carry out, even though they were forever pushed for time. Maudie and Ruby usually took on these duties. Bella was exempted, as her parents would be mortified to find their daughter making their bed. Ava was also exempted, as she was ‘Top Cook’, a title Ruby had bestowed on her after Maudie arrived.
‘Top cook, second cook, skivvy,’ Ruby often chanted, as she pointed first to Ava, then Maudie, and then herself. ‘And Bella the Game-pie Queen!’
On this particular lovely summer morning, Ruby was clearing ashes out of the various fireplaces in the Walsingham suites and relaying fresh wood and newspaper to be lit for later use. Maudie was assigned to tidy Lord Edward’s suite. To her surprise, she found him in his study, packing his bags.
‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I was told by Timms that you’d left for London.’
Edward’s irritated expression changed when he saw that the intruder was the attractive new maid with the stunning long legs and bewitching green eyes.
‘I’ll be out of here soon,’ he said, with a charming smile, ‘if you’d like to make a start on the bedroom.’
Maudie hesitated. She instinctively felt uncomfortable at the thought of going into a man’s bedroom when he was there; then she remembered the curried-game meatballs she’d promised to help Bella with in a short while and realized she had no choice. Without saying another word, she opened the door to his bedroom, which smelt of cigarette smoke and Brylcreem. Admiring her shapely hips and perfect calves, Edward sauntered into the room, where Maudie was now busy stripping his bed.
‘Forgotten something,’ he said casually, as he approached his bedside table.
Maudie carried on stripping the bed, but as she did so, Edward suddenly lurched at her. ‘You’re not like the usual girls we employ,’ he said, grabbing her by the waist and pushing her down on to his bed.
Frightened and furious, Maudie pummelled her fists against his chest. ‘Get off me!’ she cried.
‘Don’t be like that,’ Edward replied, as he tried to kiss her.
Repulsed by his full, wet lips and flushed, red face, Maudie put up a fight. Struggling and writhing underneath his overweight body, she tried to bite his hands, which were pressing her down on to the bed.
‘Ouch!’ he exclaimed, as he held her more firmly. ‘I like a woman who can fight. I should have guessed when I saw that flaming-red hair that you’d have a temper, eh?’
By this time, Maudie was really panicking. She was finding it hard to breathe, with him almost smothering her, and he was groping his way up her body, feeling for her breasts.
‘No harm in a little farewell kiss,’ Edward murmured, as he sucked on her soft white neck.
Maudie wanted to scream, but she was so flattened by him she couldn’t, so she did the only thing left to her: she kneed him hard in the balls.
‘Aghhhh! You bitch!’ Edward cried in agony, and leapt away from her.
Seeing his bright red face and little piggy eyes flaming with anger, Maudie sprang up and ran to the door.
‘Help, Ruby! Help!’ she screamed.
‘Not so quickly, lady,’ Edward roared, catching up with her and grabbing her by the hair.
‘No!’ Maudie gasped in pain as he yanked her backwards into his arms.
At that moment, Ruby, who had heard her friend’s call from the end of the corridor, flung open the door. She gasped at the sight of a dishevelled Maudie being groped by Lord Edward, who was puffing and blowing with excitement and exertion. At the sight of wide-eyed Ruby, Edward let go of Maudie, who dashed to her friend.
‘You brute!’ Maudie cried, once she’d put a distance between herself and her attacker. ‘How dare you touch me!’ she raged.
Lord Edward shrugged, took a cigarette from a solid-gold case and lit it with a matching gold lighter.
‘I’ll do whatever I please in my own house,’ he snarled at Maudie, and blew smoke in her face. ‘If you don’t like it, bugger off.’
Back in the safety of the kitchen, Maudie was a wreck, intermittently raging and weeping.
‘I feel dirty,’ she said, as she rubbed her lips clean with cold water. ‘He touched me all over, like I was a whore he’d paid for – the pig!’
Ruby sat Maudie, now sobbing, down at the table as Ava poured some strong tea for her.
‘Don’t tell Bella ‒ she’ll kill him,’ Ruby whispered.
‘I’ll kill him first!’ Maudie seethed.
‘Don’t tell Kit ‒ he’ll go mad,’ Ava said.
Maudie’s face fell, and tears slipped down her cheeks.
‘It wasn’t like that with Kit ‒ it was so beautiful, I couldn’t get enough ‒ but him!’ She shuddered. ‘Fat and sweaty ‒ he stinks of booze, too ‒ pushing up my skirt, trying to get into my knickers. Ugh, it was nauseating!’
Ava and Ruby comforted their friend as best they could.
‘Don’t keep thinking about it,’ Ava advised. ‘He’s gone. You’re safe now.’
Still in shock, Maudie murmured, ‘If Ruby hadn’t come to my rescue, I think he would have raped me.’
‘I wouldn’t put it past scum like him,’ said Ava. ‘I thought he was a bit of a nancy boy, him not going to war, but clearly I was wrong,’ she added.
They all stopped talking when Bella, blissfully unaware of what had just taken place, walked in and set a big pan of stew on the table. Seeing their flushed faces, she immediately asked, ‘What’s wrong?’
Ruby, Ava and Maudie looked at each other.
‘Tell me!’ Bella demanded.
‘Nothing,’ Maudie prevaricated.
‘It doesn’t look like nothing from where I’m standing,’ Bella retorted, as she eyeballed her friends, who shuffled uneasily. ‘For God’s sake, tell me!’ she begged.
Ava and Ruby turned to Maudie.
‘You’d better tell her,’ Ava advised.
‘Your brother’s just tried to rape me.’
Bella went as white as a sheet. Gripping a chair for support, she stared at Maudie with tears in her gentle blue eyes.
‘I … I’m so sorry.’
Maudie laid a hand on Bella’s arm. ‘It’s nothing to do wit
h you. Please don’t take responsibility for him.’
‘How can I not when he behaves like a beast?’ Bella cried. ‘He’s loathsome.’
‘Don’t feel bad about it, Bella,’ Ava said softly. ‘You’re the pick of the bunch ‒ better than the whole bloody lot of them put together!’
As usual the sheer amount of work to be done drove the girls back into the daily grind. They simply didn’t have a minute to themselves, or to think about the distressing events of the past few days. On the day Edward left for London, Bella followed him on to the drive, and watched him throw his suitcase into the back of his sports car.
‘I want a word with you, Edward,’ she called.
‘What if I don’t want a word with you, kitchen maid?’ he sneered.
Ignoring his look of contempt, Bella said coldly, ‘If you attempt to molest any of the girls below stairs again, I’ll report you to the police.’
Edward rolled his eyes in mock-fear. ‘Well, well, been sharing stories, have we?’ Lighting a cigarette, he lazily blew a smoke ring into the air, before adding, ‘She was asking for it, little tart!’
‘That’s what most rapists say,’ she snapped, and turned on her heel and left him smoking in the drive.
‘Bloody good riddance, scumbag!’ she mumbled under her breath. ‘London and the War Office are welcome to you!’
20. Beach Ball
When the injured airmen finally returned to their base, the work load for the girls in the kitchen, mercifully, decreased.
‘Maybe we could snatch a few hours off,’ Ruby said, as she polished the Walsinghams’ silver cutlery service. ‘I’m glad we were able to help those poor injured men but, my God, it did make a lot more work for us,’ she added.
‘Worth it, though,’ said Ava, stirring a meagre-looking stew in a pot on the hot plate. ‘Nice to see the men get back to health and walk out of here smiling.’
Maudie and Ruby hardly saw Kit and Raf, as everybody on the airbase was working around the clock in order to bring the Lancasters back to Norfolk. Bella saw the Brig every day, mostly below stairs, when he rolled up his shirtsleeves and helped her wash up or mop the kitchen floor at the end of a long shift. So it was Ava who got the first afternoon off and, this time, she and Tom didn’t go for a romantic ride on the beach, even though the sky was blue and it was gloriously hot; instead, Ava met Tom in his flat over his veterinary practice in Wells. After parking her rickety old bike, she skipped up the stairs to Tom’s flat where she found her boyfriend glowing with excitement. Rushing towards her, Tom picked Ava up in his arms and twirled her round in dizzying circles.
‘Stop it!’ she laughed.
‘Wonderful, wonderful news!’ he exclaimed, as he set an unsteady Ava down. ‘Oliver’s coming at the weekend. Edith’s agreed he can come here for the first two weeks of his summer holiday.’
Ava was almost as excited as Tom. She was dying to meet the little boy, who Tom obviously adored.
‘That really is wonderful news,’ she said with a happy smile. Looking around the rather grubby bachelor flat, she asked. ‘Where’s the little lad going to sleep?
Tom’s face fell. ‘I know what you’re thinking ‒ it’s not great for kids here, is it?’
Because most of their previous dates had been in the Walsingham kitchen or on Holkham beach, Ava wasn’t at all familiar with the flat.
‘Give me a tour?’ she said.
Tom winked as he answered, ‘Believe me, it won’t take long.’
He was right. There was a small kitchen, a sitting room with a view of Wells harbour and the busy quay, a bathroom built under the eaves and a spare bedroom packed to the ceiling with junk and empty boxes.
‘I thought Ollie might sleep in my bed,’ Tom explained. ‘I can kip on an army camp-bed in the sitting room for a couple of weeks.
Ava shook her head. ‘No, Tom. Ollie needs to feel he belongs here. He must have his own space, and it must be a nice one, too, a place he’ll always want to come back to.’
Tom slowly nodded his head. ‘You’re right, sweetheart, I’m just a bloke ‒ I can only do one thing at a time!’
Ava put her arms around his neck and buried her face against his warm shoulder.
‘I’m a woman and a cook – I can do lots of things at the same time!’
Tom kissed her down the line of her slender neck, then nuzzled her glorious hair, which always smelt of flowers and cake. It was tempting to spend the afternoon wrapped in each other’s arms ‒ how often did they get the chance for sweet-talking and romance? Ava, however, was on a mission. With an effort, she pulled away from Tom, who groaned as he reluctantly released her.
‘He can sleep in here,’ Ava said, pointing to the packed box-room.
‘But it’s full of junk!’ Tom exclaimed.
‘Then let’s get rid of it!’
Ava wasted no time. She and Tom stuffed his Land Rover with rubbish from the spare room and, while Tom drove to the local tip, Ava bought some blue and white paint from a small ironmonger’s shop on the high street. After wiping down the dusty walls, she painted them, and the ceiling, while Tom washed and polished the worn lino floor. Leaving the paint to dry, they drove into Fakenham, where they scoured the second-hand shops for a single bed, a chest of drawers and a rug. They found an old brass bed with knobs on the bed rails and a charming chest of drawers which was painted white and decorated with little blue stencilled sailing ships. Finally, they purchased a bright, multicoloured rag rug.
‘It’s perfect!’ Tom enthused, as they arranged the furniture in Ollie’s new room.
‘There’s plenty of material in the sewing room at the hall,’ Ava said, as she wiped down the metal bed with warm disinfected water. ‘I’ll knock up a pair of black-out curtains tonight, and that’ll finish the room off nicely,’ she said excitedly.
Tom removed the cloth from her busy hands and turned her to face him. ‘You’ve done so much for me, darling.’
Ava nodded. ‘And for your little lad, too,’ she replied.
Tom drew her down on to the narrow bed, which creaked under their joint weight.
‘You are a wonder,’ he murmured, as he stretched his long, muscular body against Ava’s voluptuous curves. ‘God, you’re gorgeous.’ He ran his hands down her strong back.
A sharp knock at the door made them both jump.
‘Damn!’ Tom cursed. He got up reluctantly and went to open the door.
Ava groaned and lay back on the bed, with her arms stretched out.
‘Who is it?’
‘I’ll soon find out,’ Tom answered.
When he returned a few minutes later, he was scowling. ‘A mare’s having difficulty delivering her foal. The farmer’s outside, waiting for me in his car. I’ve got to go, sweetheart,’ he grumbled.
Ava dragged herself up off the bed, smoothing down her clothes, which were creased and rumpled after their passionate embraces, and sighed. ‘Never mind, at least it stopped us doing something we shouldn’t have been doing,’ she giggled.
They quickly kissed goodbye, then Ava cycled home in the evening sunshine. As she pedalled slowly along the winding coast road, she thought about their love-making. Everybody knew the dangers of abandoning themselves to a moment of passion; the young women up and down the land giving birth to illegitimate babies were clear proof of that. Unlike many who condemned these women as immoral and flighty, Ava had real compassion for them. She was lucky enough to see Tom almost every other day, even if it was only for a swift cup of tea and a hasty cuddle, but millions of young women saw their boyfriends and fiancés only when they were home on leave for a brief twenty-four hours, twice a year, if they were lucky. When they said their goodbyes, they never knew whether they would meet again. How did they control the urge to possess their beloved in every sense of the word? War denied them the luxury to develop a relationship and at the same time propelled them into situations that were fuelled with passion and desire. It was so unfair, so impossible and so frustrating!
‘Bl
oody, bloody, rotten war!’ Ava raged, pressing down hard on her bicycle pedals and racing past the pine forest, where owls hooted deep in the woods and the first stars peeped out in a navy-blue sky.
Early the next morning, straight after breakfast, Ava bicycled back to Tom’s flat to hang the black-out curtains she’d made the night before.
‘There’s clean bedding, too,’ she said, showing Tom the sheets, pillows, pillowcases, towels and thick, warm blankets she’d borrowed from the well-stocked Walsingham airing cupboards. ‘We’ve got to keep the little lad warm, otherwise his mum won’t let him visit you again.’
‘Darling,’ Tom murmured, kissing her.
‘I can’t stop, as much as I want to,’ she said breathlessly.
‘Have you time to make the bed with me?’ Tom asked.
Ava nodded and smiled. ‘Of course.’
When the single bed was made, Tom slipped his arms around Ava’s slender waist. ‘Sure you don’t want to slip between those crisp, laundered sheets?’
Ava flushed with desire as she stared into his golden-hazel eyes.
‘Tom …’ she groaned, as she leant against his chest. ‘We’ve got to be sensible.’
‘I know, I know,’ he answered softly, as he held her at arm’s length so he could gaze into her beautiful face. ‘But it’s hard with a woman as lovely as you.’
‘I’ve got to get back to bake the mock-roast!’ Ava giggled as she slipped from his grip and ran downstairs.
‘When will I see you?’ he cried after her.
‘I’ll wangle an afternoon off this week so I can meet Ollie,’ Ava called back to him. ‘Phone me, lovie. Let me know how it goes.’
As the ancient church bells rang out from Little Snoring to Great Snoring, from Burnham Norton to Burnham Deepdale, Ava lifted her radiant, happy face to the heavenly blue sky and prayed out loud. ‘Thank you, God, for my life! Thank you, God, for my Tom!’
On Tuesday, Tom phoned Ava in a flat spin.
‘Sweetheart, I’ve got a problem tomorrow morning,’ he started. ‘I’ve had an urgent call from a farmer near Docking ‒ his prize bull’s fallen ill.’ He paused to take a breath. ‘I can’t take Ollie. It’s dangerous hanging around a bull with a bellyache!’
