by Ursula Bloom
She could not believe that it was such a long time since she had visited England, and somehow she had expected that it would be the same place, but as she flew in from Paris, she realised how much it had changed. Is anything ever the same?
‘But Maman, it’s lovely,’ said Catherine.
They went straight down to Eresham, even though this final stupid little journey would be the most fatiguing of them all. The trains seemed smaller, dirtier, and the people in them less interesting. Had these things really changed, or was it she herself who had altered? It seemed absurd when she recalled that she had come to England to escape from the burning brilliance of the Cote d’Azur, and now when she saw the greyness, she felt a cold streak in her heart.
Yet not when she had come to Eresham.
Here was a familiar station, smaller because memory cheats so badly in that way, but at least something similar to the place she had fondly remembered.
Button chrysanthemums stood informally along the border, and the first fingers of early frost had darkened the rims of the leaves unscrupulously. Helen was waiting for them, standing by the ticket collector in the little doorway, and peering through the dusk for the first sight of them.
Early evening lingered over the place, so that none of the outlines were clear, but the welcome was fond. Helen drove the car out of the town, and peering out, Lesley could see that the years away had brought ribbons of houses along the roads where once lovers had sat caressingly. Now Eresham reached out nearly as far as Holbeins itself, in little villas with Mon Repos, Windermere, or Myfanwy, on their gates.
But Holbeins never changed.
If it was a little shabbier, it was only because taxation frayed the edges of Helen’s income, but that could be remedied. Banding together would simplify those details.
They went into the remembered dining-room for their evening meal, and when Lesley saw the food prepared for them, for the first time she was appalled. Somehow she had forgotten the English outlook on food, and had never thought that this could happen in her own home. In France food was something of a deity, and it had never been like this, because no Frenchman would have eaten it. The cooking was bad too, one of the village girls, willing to try her hand at anything, but with hardly the right mentality behind that hand.
Lesley had grown so accustomed to fastidious food, that she accepted it as being everyday, and had grown to suppose that this was the universal standard. Thin tasteless soup, and fish over salted, and with too much moisture about it, horrified her. She tried to eat the soggy pudding, and was aghast when she realised that Helen looked upon it as a special treat for the occasion.
She asked for biscuits and learnt that English people seemed to keep only one sort of biscuit in the barrel, which by some idiotic deficiency had been left open, and the contents had turned soft in consequence.
Later she put Catherine to bed in the little room which had once been hers. MY ROOM, she thought. There, where she had played with her nurse, where she had laughed with her father, where she had been so young, so gay, so HAPPY.
I shouldn’t have come back, she thought, and hated herself for this twinge of conscience. Hated herself because she missed the flower scent of the Mediterranean, and the soft warm wind, and the true blue sea.
‘Darling, you WILL get used to it all,’ Helen told her, ‘just at first changes are always difficult, but you will like it a whole lot later, and it is the best place for Catherine.’
She was right there.
Of course Holbeins was the best place for Catherine.
Catherine adored it.
All through the dreary winter Catherine romped in the lanes, bought herself a dog and played with it; bought herself a cat because it had the same coloured eyes as herself. The cat had innumerable kittens, and Catherine loved every one of them! She played in the garden where her mother had played so happily, her grandmother too; she loved the whole place and already showed something of her grandfather’s interest in rock gardens.
She went to a dancing class at the local school, and liked it so much that when Christmas was past, she went as a day girl which she thought was bliss. The uniform was a joy (Lesley thought it hideous, but was thankful that Catherine had not apparently noticed this angle on it) and she got on very well. She was good at games. She liked learning, and herself was truly thankful to have left ‘that silly hotel’ behind them.
By Easter Lesley had to admit that what she had done had been wise, and for the best.
She had bought a car she adored. She had contrived to find another cook, an older woman, who ‘came in’ to do their dinner and that was a blessed relief. She was enchanted that her child was so happy here, and that Holbeins was already beginning to cast its old spell on her.
The scillas had come again. They dangled cerulean bells in the vivid green of March grass. The blue anemones too were under the shrubberies, the aconites paling, and the primroses everywhere.
Spring was returning.
Every morning she went round the garden with a happiness that only Holbeins could give her. At Cap Roche, plants were brought in pots and popped in daily, so that one never knew what one would find, but here those plants were born, and grew up. So that when the primroses faded a trifle there were the bluebells to seek in the orchard, and the tall pink campions, and the white lace that the Cows Parsley tossed across the ditches and the rough grass. There were lilacs and laburnums, and every day a new beginning.
Lesley went out one evening after an April shower.
She felt happy. In a way content, and she drove along the road to the hills, with a longing for solitude. She had been thinking a lot about Edgar today ‒ some days she did ‒ and she never knew why it happened that way. His authority had been so gentle, his faith in her so secure, and the happiness of their life together the great reward for so much of that other unhappiness which had distressed her.
The road was still wet.
It gleamed in patches like a silver road, with the green trees tall and spreading in overhead fans like Gothic transepts, and the blue cloudy sky above littered with little white clouds. There had never been clouds at Cap Roche, and she glanced up to admire the singular beauty of them. Fluff on pale blue. Captivating fluff.
She never knew how she skidded.
She had cut the corner close, of course, and it was a meeting place for three country lanes at sharp angles. The car hit the signpost and turned turtle. Later ‒ she would never know how much later, or if it happened straight away ‒ she crawled out from under it. The only thing that she knew then was that she must get to the ditch for shelter, for she wanted to be alone.
She crawled across the grass verge, aware that a leg dragged and that her head was making queer sounds, as though a couple of unnailed floor boards knocked together, yet she felt no pain. She lay down amongst the docks. The foxgloves were in early flower, and canopied over her on tall stalks frilled with pink bells. An exquisite honeysuckle twined amongst the darker green on the hawthorn hedge, and sent its perfume across her as she lay, and was comforting.
It was dark in the ditch, but that was what she wanted now, and she turned her face to the mossy grass, and smelt the comforting earthscent pressed against her cheeks. Somewhere in the hedgerow a bird began to sing, but she only felt the twilight creeping in upon her, grey but very calm, and in that twilight there was the happiness of tender memories.
No more.
Wonder Cruise by Ursula Bloom
Thirtysomething Ann Clements takes a Mediterranean cruise which opens her eyes to the wider world, and to herself.
London, 1934. Ann Clements is thirty-five and single, and believes nothing exciting will ever happen to her. Then, she wins a large sum of money in a sweepstake and suddenly can dare to dream of a more adventurous life. She buys a ticket for a Mediterranean cruise, against the wishes of her stern brother, the Rev. Cuthbert, who has other ideas about how she should spend her windfall.
Ann steps out of the shadows of her mundane life into the
heat of the Mediterranean sun. Travelling to Gibraltar, Marseilles, Naples, Malta and Venice, Ann’s eyes are opened to people and experiences far removed from her sheltered existence. As Ann blossoms, discovering love and passion for the very first time, the biggest question is, can there be any going back?
An engaging and witty story about an unforgettable 1930s woman; Ann Clements will stay with you long after the last page.
‘Ursula Bloom writes in a delightful way, with a deep understanding of human nature and a quick eye for the humorous things in life. Wonder Cruise … is one of the most entertaining novels we have read for a long time.’ Cambridge Daily News
‘Vividly entrancing.’ Scotsman
‘… with every book she adds something to her reputation … related with all Miss Bloom’s liveliness and easy skill.’ Daily Telegraph
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Youth at the Gate by Ursula Bloom
The touching true account of a young woman’s life on the home front during the First World War.
Ursula Bloom (who also wrote as Lozania Prole) movingly describes how the Great War forever changed the lives of ordinary people in Britain. When Ursula says goodbye to both her suitor and brother as they go to war, patriotic excitement soon turns to worry and despair.
This memoir vividly brings to life the experiences of people struggling to live through World War I. Ursula Bloom’s honest and heartfelt story shows us the challenges of food rationing and the constant bombing by Zeppelins overhead. Rumours of German spies abound, and even Ursula and her mother find themselves under suspicion by their neighbours.
Ursula’s autobiography also looks at the realities of life in the early twentieth century, when operations were carried out on the kitchen table, a pregnant woman shouldn’t be seen in public, and an officer and a private couldn’t mix under the same roof.
Not only the realities of war force an innocent Ursula to grow up. She must face her mother’s serious illness, the demons of her husband-to-be, and the snobbery of his wealthy family. There are lighter moments too, such as the tale of the Bloom’s fictitious maid, Emily, who they have to invent rather than admit that they can’t afford a servant.
Ursula Bloom went on to become a bestselling novelist, playwright and journalist. This moving autobiography is a must for all of those interested in life at home during the Great War, as well as for fans of her novels, such as Wonder Cruise.
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Victoria Four-thirty by Cecil Roberts
London, 1937. A world famous composer, a honeymooning couple, a novelist in search of a plot, a German film star, a young crown prince and a sister of charity are among the disparate group of travellers on the boat train to continental Europe.
‘It would be very interesting to know the life history of everybody on this train – why we are travelling on it …’
Set amid the political upheaval of the 1930s, this is the witty, insightful and bittersweet story of the passengers on the Four-thirty from Victoria. Each is facing a different journey, with their own hopes, fears and challenges; and for some, their lives will cross in unexpected ways.
The 80th anniversary edition of the newly rediscovered classic bestseller from the 1930s.
A splendid achievement, with a classic quality.’ Daily Telegraph
‘What a good novelist …’ Sunday Times
‘A book of considerable imaginative quality.’ The Guardian
‘A marvel of construction and execution …’ Yorkshire Post
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Wind on the Heath by Naomi Jacob
A moving story of family ties and true love battling against the odds in wartime Yorkshire.
From their first meeting there is an undeniable attraction between Liz Tancred and Michael Anderson, but convention means they must keep their feelings to themselves, for now.
Liz is a courageous woman whose life is not all that it seems. Michael is a dutiful young man who steps in to run his family’s farm when tragedy strikes.
Then, the outbreak of World War II changes everything. As Liz and Michael rise to the challenges of wartime life, can their love blossom and, more importantly, will it survive?
From the bestselling author of The Gollantz Family Saga.
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The Print Petticoat by Lucilla Andrews
‘Arguably the best of all writers of hospital fiction.’ Nursing Times
A moving story of heartache and hope in the Maternity Unit of a busy 1950s teaching hospital.
Joanna Anthony is a dedicated Nursery staff nurse at St Gregory’s Hospital. The nurses and doctors share laughter and tears as they tend to the mothers and babies in their care.
There is time for romance, too. After five years together, is ambitious Dr Richard Everley finally ready to settle down with Joanna? And what of the two other young doctors who have more than a professional interest in her?
It takes a serious illness for Joanna to understand where, and with whom, her future really lies.
This engaging story of the everyday experiences of a 1950s nurse, vividly brings to life the colourful characters, drama, love and loss to be found on a hospital ward.
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A Shaft of Light by John Finch
The poignant story of young people growing up during the beginning of the Second World War.
Life in a Yorkshire mining village is tough, as families struggle to survive the harsh deprivations of working class life, and to keep hope, spirit and dignity alive.
Denis and Ted are best friends, but in some ways their lives are world’s apart. Shopkeeper’s son Denis questions what the future may hold for him. The advent of war shows him the possibilities of a life far from all he knows. Yet Ted, from the poorest part of the village, dreams only of becoming a man and starting to work down the pit, like his father before him. Both boys are drawn to Jean, a bold, spirited young woman from their village, but only one of them can win her heart.
The youngsters face the challenges and responsibilities of growing up, as they experience love, death and desire, and the consequences which will change their lives forever.
From the acclaimed creator and writer of the classic television family sagas A Family at War and Sam, and former Coronation Street scriptwriter, John Finch. Previously published as Cuddon Return.
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TIMELESS CLASSICS COLLECTION
by Ursula Bloom
Wonder Cruise
Three Sisters
Dinah’s Husband
The Painted Lady
The Hunter’s Moon
Fruit on the Bough
Three Sons
Facade
Forty is Beginning
The Passionate Heart
Nine Lives
Spring in September
Lovely Shadow
The Golden Flame
Many more titles coming soon
www.ursulabloom.com
Ursula Bloom: A Life in Words podcast
Listen to the free, five-part podcast series based on the autobiographical writi
ng of Ursula Bloom. The podcast covers Ursula’s life as a young woman on the Home Front in the Great War, and her rise to success and fame in the publishing world of the 1920s to 1940s.
www.ursulabloom.com/ursula-bloom-a-life-in-words-podcast
