The Soldier's Return

by Rose Meddon

  Following Naomi out of the little room, Kate smiled. ‘If Nurse Hammond has anything to do with it, we will have. Mark my words, once she and Ned arrive it will be just as though we’d always been here.’

  Watching Naomi heading back along the corridor, Kate gave a contented sigh; it felt good to be back in the wide open spaces of Woodicombe and away from the cramped and dirty conditions of London. Of course, it also helped that she wasn’t up to her knees in drudgery – or constantly chasing her tail. Yes, for the first time in a good many months, she felt calm.

  Following in Naomi’s footsteps, she headed back towards the stairs. She rather liked having time to just stand and breathe – to have so little depending upon her. And so, she would try to enjoy every moment of it – because, in these times of uncertainty, who knew how long it would last, or what lay in wait for them around the corner?

  * * *

  Fancy her, occupying the Rose Room – the room on the ladies’ landing named for the huge cabbage roses on its wallpaper. In varying shades of pink, they were complete with little green leaves, and stems with vicious-looking thorns. Although it had always struck her as a nice room, she’d never thought to one day sleep in it. In fact, Kate reflected, as she stood looking about, it was definitely the nicest room she had ever slept in. From its windows it had a view across the front gardens and down the drive and, over the years, had been used by many visiting ladies, the last of which had probably been Aunt Diana. Granted, in the winter, it did tend to chilliness, facing, as it did, to the northeast. But, in warmer months, that same aspect ensured that it never became unbearably sticky like those on the other side of the house. Travelling down on the train, and thinking about what lay ahead, she’d been expecting to find herself back in the attic – in the same room she’d always occupied – and so it had come as a surprise to discover that she had been put in a room on the main landing. Perhaps Mabel hadn’t known quite what to make of her station now – perhaps, being unable to work out whether she was now more family than staff, she had erred on the side of caution. On the other hand, her decision might simply have been down to common sense; with so few people in residence, why spread them out over more than one floor?

  A little earlier, seeing Ned arrive, Kate had slipped into the study to welcome him. After his lengthy journey he had looked pale and tired, and she had quickly left Nurse Hammond to get him settled. After that, she had come upstairs intending to retire for the night but, deciding it too early to go to sleep, had attempted instead to write to Luke. Seated at the dressing table – the little armchair and side table proving too low for the task – she had written the first few lines easily enough, letting him know that they were now safely installed at Woodicombe. But after that, as was often the case, she could think of little else that might be of interest to him.

  Hoping for inspiration, she stared out into the dimpsy. She had already written that she had seen his parents, and that they were both well. She had also written that she had unpacked most of the things brought from Hartland Street by Mr Russell’s delivery men. So, what to say next? There had to be something of interest that she could tell him.

  Turning away from the window, she crossed back to the dressing table. Then, sitting down and picking up the pen, she somewhat hesitantly wrote,

  Mabel looks a good deal older. To my eyes, she seems smaller and thinner, though perhaps that’s just my memory playing tricks. Edith looks the same as she ever did, though she does seem glad to be busy again and proper pleased to see us. She does seem to have hit it off with Nurse Hammond, too.

  With her words beginning to flow, she got up and reached to turn on the electric light. Then, wriggling herself comfortable upon the stool, she carried on,

  Since last time Naomi and I were here, all of the rooms save one or two have stayed shut up. It is a sad sight to see. Outside has fared little better. Though your Pa still keeps the lawns neat, it is the fruit and vegetables that take up all his time, and so the flower borders are mostly gone to pot. It breaks my heart to see it all like it, but what is to be done? Even down here, young folk these days, well, those that are left, don’t want to go into service no more. Mabel was fortunate to persuade Winnie Dodd to come down as a day girl for the duration of our stay. Do you remember her? She would have been about fourteen when you joined up. Sadly, her chap was killed two years back, in that terrible slaughter on the Somme. And now she says she won’t never marry.

  Now in the swing of it, Kate continued.

  Yesterday afternoon, when Naomi arrived, Mabel and Edith were quick to fuss over Esme. Ned came separate with Nurse Hammond in an ambulance train from Waterloo to Exeter, from where Cousin Elizabeth had arranged for them to be collected and driven here by someone from the local VAD. Since it was all my thought that we should come down here, I do hope the effort and upheaval proves worth it.

  I am put in the Rose Room on the ladies’ landing. You would laugh to see me in here. There is so much space I do rattle around somewhat. All told, I find I don’t mind being back here again as much as I might have supposed. The air is certainly nicer to breathe, and we shan’t be afraid to light the lamps come dimmet for fear of drawing the attention of the Zeppelins. Nor do I think there will be any bombs. So that will all be good. Indeed, the war seems very far away, like I have left it behind in London. Mabel even said that down here, few folk bother to change their clocks for this new Summer Time, most of them being unable to see the point of it and it making not one jot of a difference to their days.

  Deciding then that her eyes were growing too tired to keep going, she carefully set her pen on her blotter and determined to write the last bit in the morning. Then she went across to the switch, extinguished the light, and got into bed.

  Staring up into the darkness, she had a feeling that from tomorrow, the days would start to take on some sort of routine. Although, without the preparation of meals to worry about, and with very little by way of cleaning to see to, she had no idea of what her part in that would be. But, in comparison to the frenzied days of the last few weeks, not knowing what she would be doing from one moment to the next felt like an agreeable problem to have. Delicious, in fact, as Naomi so often said of nice things.

  * * *

  ‘If you ask me, ’tis all one unholy muddle.’

  Edith’s observation, made as she stood scraping new potatoes for lunch, made Kate laugh. ‘’Tis only a muddle because we’re all still settling in,’ she replied, watching Edith taking her paring knife to the last of the potatoes. Smooth and evenly shaped, they smelled fresh and earthy and appetising. ‘Give it a day or two and we’ll be proper sorted.’

  ‘Nice to have folk about, though,’ Edith went on. ‘Can’t recall the last time I heard a child’s laugh about the place. ’Course, once you all go back up to London, it’ll seem quieter than ever.’

  Inwardly, Kate groaned; only Edith could manage to summon gloom in the midst of discussing something she professed to find cheering. ‘No need to go thinking about that yet,’ she said, frustrated but not entirely surprised. ‘And anyway, come wintertime, maybe keep one or two more rooms open this time round. Use them yourselves. Be more cosy.’ Then, recalling the sight of the woodshed stacked to bursting with seasoned logs, she said, ‘It’s not as though firewood is in short supply. Not that Mr Russell would mind if you burnt a bit more coal – not if it meant plenty of hot water and a bit of warmth when you needed it.’

  Edith’s response to that was to scoff. ‘Happen he wouldn’t, but I would. I’m already beholden enough to that man—’ Beholden? Now what was the woman on about? ‘What you seem to forget is that with as little as a stroke of his pen, or one word from his mouth, me an’ Ma could be out on our ears.’

  ‘Edith!’ Honestly, the woman hadn’t changed a bit: still a doom-monger. And still someone she never would think of as her mother, let alone feel moved to address as ‘Ma’. ‘Mr Russell wouldn’t do that to you. Think about it, why go to all the bother and the cost of keeping this place
going these last years just to throw you out now?’ No, as she had only recently had cause to reflect, of all the things that man might be, vindictive wasn’t one of them. In fact, from what she knew of Russell family matters, as time went on, he even seemed to be softening a little.

  ‘Huh.’

  Exasperated to the point of wishing she could grab Edith and shake her, Kate turned and walked away. No sense getting into an argument with her so soon after arriving. Pick your battles, Aunt Diana always advised, and this did seem a bit of a daft thing to fall out over. If Edith wanted to be bitter, let her be – that was her choice.

  Arriving back up in the hallway, though, she decided that Edith was right about one thing: the house was a muddle. For a start, piled up alongside the door to the study were several empty crates and a number of boxes stuffed with paper – the debris from Nurse Hammond’s unpacking of her equipment. And she knew for a fact that on the landing were Naomi’s empty trunks, along with her leather travelling bags, and the small chest in which Esme’s toys had been transported. The trouble was, short of fetching in poor old Pa Channer to take them up to the trunk room, they looked likely to stay there. Although, why did they? Why couldn’t she just drag them out of sight somewhere? It wasn’t as though they were short on empty rooms. It would also show Edith that she had meant what she had said about them getting sorted out.

  Realizing that in no time at all she had gone from having far too much work in Hartland Street, to having none whatsoever down here, she crossed the hall and surveyed the items outside of the study. She would take it all down to the butler’s pantry. She knew from being down there the other day that it was empty. And it had to be easier to drag things down a staircase than up. Yes, she would make herself useful.

  Stacked one inside the other, she soon had the boxes condensed in number and carried away. The crates, although not overly heavy, proved rather more cumbersome – especially when it came to the staircase. But, somehow, cursing when she clouted her shins with one of them, and then having to stop off in the scullery to dig out a splinter gained from another, she eventually achieved what she had set out to. Then, fetching a broom and dustpan from the closet, she swept the floor.

  ‘Did Winnie not make a thorough job of it?’

  In response to Mabel’s enquiry, she spun about. ‘What? Oh, no,’ she replied with a shake of her head. ‘No, I’ve just moved all of the crates and boxes that had been left here and now I’m cleaning up.’

  To that piece of news, she felt certain Mabel raised an eyebrow. All she said, though, was, ‘Well for heaven’s sake, don’t go putting your back out.’

  By the time she noticed that it was almost one o’clock, Kate felt as though she’d been of some use. But, on her way to get cleaned up and see whether she could help fetch and carry for luncheon, the bell in the porch rang. Glancing towards it, she saw a man with what appeared to be an oversized envelope under his arm. Opening the door to him, she also noticed that out on the gravel were two motorcars, one of them small and sporty, and the brightest of yellow colours.

  ‘Mrs Lawrence Colborne?’ the man enquired.

  She shook her head. ‘No, but if you will tell me your business, I’ll go and fetch her for you.’

  ‘My name is Roberts, from Roberts and Brown Motors on the Barnstaple Road. I have a delivery for her.’

  She glanced again at the two motorcars. Alongside the larger of the two stood a second man, dressed similarly to the first in dark trousers and a checked jacket. In his hand he was holding a cap, and what appeared to be goggles.

  ‘Is she expecting you?’

  ‘I’m afraid I couldn’t say, ma’am.’

  ‘Please,’ she said, frowning. ‘Do come in. Mrs Colborne is about to sit down to luncheon, but I’ll go and tell her that you’re here.’

  ‘A delivery?’ Naomi said when Kate found her and explained about the caller. ‘A delivery of what? Did he say?’

  ‘No, he didn’t.’ Following Naomi along the corridor, she decided not to mention what was standing on the drive.

  ‘Oh well,’ Naomi said with a sigh, ‘as long as he’s quick.’

  When Naomi went across the hall and introduced herself, Kate hung back. After shaking Naomi’s hand, the man called Brown gestured towards the driveway but, although she strained to hear what he was saying, the only words she caught were ‘papers’ and ‘receipt’. But papers for what?

  In her eagerness to learn what was going on, Kate went towards them, surprised to overhear the man remark, ‘I assure you, most sincerely, ma’am, this is not a prank.’

  Growing slightly concerned – but mainly taken by curiosity – she followed them out onto the drive. ‘Is everything all right?’ she asked, arriving at Naomi’s side.

  Naomi’s face, when she turned to regard her, was one of amusement. ‘It would seem that Papa has bought me a motorcar.’

  Without meaning to, Kate laughed. ‘A motorcar?’

  ‘That natty little yellow one, apparently.’

  With no idea what to say, Kate took a few steps towards it. With its folded down roof, polished brass lamps and yellow-rimmed wheels, it looked absurdly racy. She could only think that Mr Russell had taken leave of his senses. ‘Heavens,’ she eventually said, lost for a more suitable remark.

  ‘Quite,’ Naomi agreed, arriving to peer in at the tan buttoned-leather interior.

  ‘Um, forgive me asking, madam,’ the man ventured, drawing alongside them, his demeanour uneasy. ‘But do you know how to drive a motorcar?’

  ‘In London I drive an ambulance,’ Naomi was quick to reply. ‘And so I don’t imagine this little thing will present me with too many problems.’

  ‘Nevertheless, madam,’ the man persisted, ‘perhaps you would allow me to explain a few of the features to you.’

  ‘By all means,’ Naomi said, nudging Kate in the ribs. ‘Please, do go ahead.’

  ‘Yes. Well. Mrs Colborne, may I present to you the Humber Humberette, with its V-twin, 996cc shaft-drive engine, which you will quickly discover produces a more than respectable eight horsepower. Now, here you will see—’

  ‘It’s perfect, don’t you think?’ Naomi whispered. ‘And typical of Papa to provide a solution to a problem I didn’t yet know I had!’ Problem she didn’t know she had? What was Naomi on about? ‘The small matter of how on earth we were going to get about while we’re down here,’ Naomi went on to explain. ‘I confess I hadn’t given it a moment’s thought. But this is perfect. So clever of Papa. This afternoon, I must telephone him to say thank you.’

  ‘Happen I’ll go and ask Edith to hold luncheon for a moment,’ Kate said, wondering as to Mr Russell’s sanity. ‘While you make sure to follow what the man says.’ If Naomi was hell-bent on accepting her father’s outrageous gift, then she might as well know how to operate it safely.

  Going back in through the porch door, she gave a rueful shake of her head. It was thoughtful of Mr Russell, she’d give him that much. Now they would be able to take little trips into Westward Quay. What a sight they would make – the two of them whizzing about unaccompanied in a canary yellow motorcar! That would cause some jaws to drop. She just wished that Luke could see them nipping about like it. Although, on second thoughts, perhaps not. Either way, at least now she had something to write and tell him. Yes, and maybe now, this summer wouldn’t turn out to be quite so dull after all.

  * * *

  ‘Is it Rowley?’

  From the window that looked out over the drive, Kate watched as a young man in uniform stepped down from the driver’s seat of a large black motorcar, went around to open the rear door, and then assisted another young man who was clearly struggling to use one of his legs. ‘Yes,’ she answered Ned’s enquiry. ‘I think it must be.’

  ‘Do go out and greet him,’ he urged her. ‘I know without a moment’s hesitation that you’ll like him.’

  Out in the hallway, Kate discovered that Naomi had beaten her to it, and was already greeting the new arrival. ‘I am so very please
d to finally meet you, Lieutenant Rowley-King,’ she was saying. ‘Would you like me to bring you a chair?’

  The young man shook his head. ‘No, thank you, Mrs Colborne. If it’s all the same to you, I should prefer to stand for a moment. I find that if I stay in one position for too long, my leg seizes up. And please, do call me Rowley – absolutely everyone does, even our squadron commander.’ With that, Ellis Rowley-King turned back to his driver, now waiting in the porch.

  ‘Shall I fetch in your luggage, sir?’

  ‘Yes please, Private West.’

  ‘Very well,’ Naomi said. ‘Rowley it is. And may I introduce to you my sister, Kate.’

  ‘How do you do,’ Lieutenant Rowley-King said, deftly switching the walking stick upon which he was leaning to his left hand and extending his right. ‘Ned spoke about both of you – rather often, actually.’

  Accepting Rowley’s hand, Kate felt herself blushing. ‘How do you do,’ she confined herself to replying.

  ‘Now, first things first,’ Naomi went on. ‘If I don’t take you straight in to say hello to Ned, he will never forgive me. So, Kate, while I do that, would you offer the lieutenant’s driver some refreshments? I’m sure he wouldn’t say no to a cup of tea and a piece of cake – or possibly something hot if it’s not too late for Edith to rustle something up.’

  ‘Yes, of course. I’ll see to it.’

  ‘Don’t be afraid to tell him to take my luggage all the way to wherever it is to go,’ Rowley said to her, before turning awkwardly to follow Naomi across the hall.

  It wasn’t until later, though, when their new guest had taken supper with Ned and she had gone into the study to clear the small table set up for them, that Kate had a proper chance to study Rowley’s appearance. Her first thought upon meeting him had been that he was neatly-proportioned; neither short nor overly-tall, everything about him seeming in keeping. Now, with his airman’s cap removed, she could see that his hair was an exceptionally dark brown and – today at least – unoiled and slightly curly. His eyebrows were particularly heavy, his face clean shaven – apart from a moustache of neat and modest proportions – and his eyes a true shade of brown. Earnest. Yes, if she had to sum up his appearance in just one word, that would be the one she would choose.