Girls of the Great War

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Girls of the Great War Page 22

by Freda Lightfoot


  ‘Oh, lucky you.’

  ‘Wasn’t I just? You would have loved it too. It seems that popular tastes have started to change. Ballads and old-style songs have given way to the Charleston, jazz and a different beat of music, which they call syncopation. I tried to learn how to do these new dances with some difficulty,’ she said, giving a gurgle of laughter. ‘Considering Boyd has a peg-leg as he calls it, he did brilliantly. We had a lovely evening and the next day enjoyed a wonderful bus tour around London. It was a delightful trip.’

  ‘I envy you, Cecily. Apart from the odd bit of shopping, I’ve spent my days pretty well stuck here in the house, resting or sewing. Johnny is not in favour of my going anywhere, claiming we’re very short of money. Besides which, he is not pleased with this house.’

  Cecily glanced around the small living room where they were seated together on the sofa. It was not particularly well furnished, possessing only one armchair in addition to this sofa and a small coffee table. It felt quite cold and the fact there was no fire on in the grate was not surprising if they were a bit hard up. But it was small, practical and conveniently close to the centre of town. There was a neat handmade rug and bright blue curtains at the window that Merryn had made, being excellent at sewing, and the walls were a brilliant white, that she’d probably painted. ‘You’ve obviously worked hard cleaning and updating this house, lovey, making it look smart and pretty, so why would he disapprove of it?’

  Merryn pulled a face. ‘He finds it too far from the sea and has to walk some distance when visiting local theatres in search of work. He also considers it confining and a grubby mess. I’ve done it up in the hope he’ll come to approve of it. Johnny says he’d prefer to live in our home on Grand Parade with Queenie, being much smarter and more convenient. I’ve no wish for that ever to happen, needing control of my own life now, not one ruled by our mother.’

  ‘I do agree with that. I have exactly the same wish.’

  ‘While you were in London she received an offer to perform again at the Palace Theatre.’

  ‘Oh, that’s good to know. So she is still considered to be a star?’

  Merryn grinned. ‘She is indeed, and so are you. I helped by making her a new gown and dealing with her hair, but declined to do everything she demanded of me, such as wash her clothes or spend hours tidying and cleaning her dressing room. I’ve recommended that she employ a maid to do those tasks for her.’

  ‘Oh, so have I, being equally pestered to wait upon her hand, foot and finger,’ Cecily said, with a sigh and a chuckle. ‘It’s good to hear she’s back on stage, which should calm her temper down. I too am attempting to build a new life for myself if with less success than Mama, having failed to find myself a job, let alone a man to marry as she has insisted upon. Although that shouldn’t trouble me.’

  ‘It would me,’ Merryn said, giving a faltering little smile. ‘Not that I’m riveted with energy or satisfaction just yet. Feeling a little morose.’

  Noting a disturbed frown in her sister’s expression, Cecily experienced a jolt of concern. Could it be her health or fear of delivering this baby that was troubling her? ‘I’m sorry to hear that. I’m sure you’ll feel better once this birth has taken place,’ she tenderly remarked.

  ‘Except I won’t be allowed to find employment once I give birth, not something I’d planned at my young age. I’m sure I’ll love him or her, once this baby is born, so will then relish taking care of my family. I just hope my husband does too,’ she added, a tiny flicker of anxiety in her lovely hazel eyes.

  ‘You could at some point find work, darling, as Johnny will too.’ Cecily then tactfully changed the subject, not wishing to say the wrong thing about this husband of hers of whom she didn’t at all approve. ‘You wouldn’t believe what little I learned from Lady Stanford. I do wish she’d been prepared to answer my questions instead of asking too many of her own.’

  ‘Oh dear, so your trip was a complete waste of time, as I feared it might be,’ Merryn murmured.

  ‘Not at all.’ And she went on to tell all that Boyd had discovered about James Stanford, showing her the copy of the article he’d given her. ‘Not that he found any proof this man was related to our father even if he too went missing. Boyd is a good man and has offered to try and find out more for us. How he’ll manage to do that, I’ve no idea.’

  ‘If Lady Stanford refused to reveal the truth, why don’t we ask Queenie? Surely it’s time for her to accept we have a right to know more about the death of our father and whether it was this man.’

  ‘That won’t be easy,’ Cecily said, looking grim.

  ‘Let’s give it a go together since we’re a good team.’ And giving each other a hug, an agreement was made.

  Seated in the parlour at Queenie’s fine house on Grand Parade, Cecily poured her a cup of coffee. Handing it to her mother she calmly remarked, ‘Mama, there is a matter we wish to discuss with you.’

  Glancing from one to the other, Queenie blinked. ‘You are surely not going to attempt to persuade me to rejoin your concert party? I’ve made it clear that I wish to maintain my independence, still being a star.’

  ‘You are a most famous person and free to make your own choice on such matters, Mama. This question is not about that. We are wondering if you now feel ready to tell us more about our father? When and why he left you. What sort of man he was. Did he love and miss us when you parted? Is that why he died? Considering you’ve told us barely anything about him, there’s so much we feel the need to know.’

  ‘Do please tell us all you can,’ Merryn quietly said.

  Queenie glanced from one to the other of them, looking utterly startled by this request. ‘You have no right to demand such information. Not hearing the story of my past life may seem irritating, but you must accept that I have no wish to recall the disasters that occurred. It would be far too distressing for me to recall it.’

  Cecily gave her a sorrowful smile. ‘I do acknowledge that fact, Mama, having lost the love of my life too. But being your darling daughters and now adults, we are keen to offer our sympathy and support over the sorry tale of your marriage, and to understand why it went wrong. We’re trying to guess whether that was because he betrayed and hurt you, or else disapproved of the job you were engaged in. Sharing this with us could surely help to make you feel much better and put a stop to those dreadful nightmares you still suffer from.’

  Merryn reached over to give her mother’s hand a gentle pat. ‘Do listen to Cecily; she is making a valid point. We are a close family and feel the need to know what happened to Papa, or at least grow a picture of him in our minds.’

  The glare that Queenie gave them brought a shiver into Cecily’s soul. ‘I have no wish to speak of that man ever again.’

  ‘Why not? You lost but loved him. This issue is important to us, Mama. If you decline to tell us anything about our father, then we’ll have to search elsewhere for the necessary information.’

  ‘Utter nonsense! How could you possibly achieve that?’ Queenie scornfully remarked.

  ‘By chance, I met a Lady Stanford at a suffrage meeting in Plymouth last year and now in London. I am aware that Stanford was your married name, so I thought it was worth asking if she was related to Dean Stanford. She declared there was no one of that name in her family.’

  ‘Good God, how dare you speak about me to someone just because of their name?’ The ferocity in Queenie’s face was quite staggering.

  ‘It seemed a reasonable thing to do. When I tried again at the suffrage meeting in London last week where she was giving a speech, she again ignored my questions, seeming quite irritated.’

  Queenie’s expression could only be described as an odd mixture of cool derision and panic. ‘I’m not at all surprised. I forbid you ever to speak to that lady again.’

  ‘Are you saying that she does know you?’

  ‘Absolutely not! I’m speaking of my life and my privacy, of catastrophes which are best kept out of my mind as they are far too distressing
,’ she gasped, bursting into tears. ‘Never ask me about my husband either.’

  Alarmed at having upset her and remembering how Queenie had been most sympathetic over the loss of Ewan, which had created heartache in her soul, Cecily felt filled with guilt. She rushed over to the sofa to hold her close in her arms. ‘I’m so sorry, Mama. Obviously, I did not take into account the bad effect the memory of his loss might have upon you, in spite of your disastrous marriage and the nightmares you still sometimes endure.’ Exchanging a glance of distress with Merryn, she tactfully pledged that she would not raise the subject of their father’s death ever again. Crossing her fingers, she hoped that would be possible.

  Slamming down the coffee cup she’d been clutching in her lap, Queenie flicked the tears from her eyes and leapt briskly to her feet. ‘You must not speak to anyone on this matter. Is that clear? Were you to do so, I would never forgive you for such dreadful intrusion upon my personal life. It could bring about the demise of my heart and our family.’ Firmly lifting her chin, she strode off, the tears having vanished, anxiety and rage now storming in her blue eyes. The subject, it seemed, was forever closed.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  AT THE end of May, Merryn delightedly gave birth to a tiny baby daughter in a surprisingly easy delivery assisted by Nan and her sister with no doctor or midwife needing to be called. She felt swamped with love and totally captivated by this little one, gazing in wonder at her beautiful blue eyes, golden hair and small neat fingernails. What an adorable baby she was. She cradled her child in her arms and kissed her soft cheeks, loving the sweet scent of her.

  Queenie was there too, expressing her delight at being granted a granddaughter. ‘What a clever girl you are, darling, to have had such a simple birth. I was never so fortunate.’

  ‘Thanks to Nan,’ Merryn said, giving her a warm hug.

  ‘Do you wish me to do anything more?’ Nan asked, having bathed the baby and settled her in the cot.

  ‘Nothing I can think of. Cecily has agreed to stay here and help.’

  ‘Then I shall take a little rest and you should too, dear girl. Please leave her in peace,’ Nan instructed Queenie, then turning to Cecily with a firm expression on her face, ordered her to take good care of her sister.

  ‘I will, Nan,’ Cecily said, a promise that brought a sense of security and relief into Merryn’s heart. How supportive and caring her sister was.

  Queenie smilingly gave her a kiss and once her family departed and Cecily went to rest in the spare bedroom, she fell asleep. Merryn kept jerking awake as she could hardly wait for Johnny to come home and meet his beautiful daughter. It was a few hours later that he arrived, bursting with satisfaction, to gleefully announce that he’d been granted employment once again at the Palace Theatre, thanks to Queenie’s recommendation. He gave her a huge kiss and a grin. ‘Life is improving at last.’

  ‘That’s good to know, and I’ve successfully given birth.’

  ‘Ah, so you’ve finally delivered my son. That’s good to know too.’

  ‘Actually, a daughter,’ she said, giving him a beaming smile.

  ‘Good Lord, so you’ve failed to do as I expected. I’d no wish for one of those. Living with a woman as a wife is enough for any man to deal with,’ he remarked tartly, scowling at the tiny baby tucked in the cot beside the bed. ‘I have five younger sisters and wasn’t terribly interested in any of them as baby girls. They were so fussy and demanding, it quite put me off wanting a daughter of my own, much preferring a jolly little boy with whom I could play cricket and football. You should have produced what I wished for!’

  A shudder of dismay coursed through Merryn, seeing how he didn’t look at all pleased or interested. ‘I can’t be blamed for this. Besides, your daughter is adorable. Don’t you wish to give her a cuddle?’

  Firmly shaking his head, Johnny gave a snort of disapproval. ‘I have better things to do, like practising on my drum.’ Turning on his heel, he marched away.

  Tears streamed down Merryn’s cheeks, appalled that he’d shown no desire to hold the baby. When Cecily hurried in to give her a hug of comfort, no doubt having been hovering outside and hearing his caustic remarks, Merryn found herself sobbing, ‘Why is my husband against our baby girl?’

  ‘Don’t fret about that, darling. He’s probably too wrapped up in having at last gained employment. I’m sure he’ll come round to accepting her eventually. Why would he not find her adorable?’ When her tiny niece started to cry, Cecily picked the baby up to give her a cuddle. ‘Whoops, I think she’s hungry. What are you going to call her?’ she asked, as she handed the infant over to her mother to be fed.

  ‘I thought of Josette. It’s such a charming name,’ Merryn said, wiping her eyes as she attempted to settle her darling child to her breast.

  ‘Oh, what a lovely idea. Hello, little one, pleased to meet you Josette,’ Cecily whispered, giving the baby’s head a stroke and a kiss, then she quietly sat on a stool close by the bed to watch the feeding take place. Noticing anxiety crease her sister’s face as she struggled to persuade the baby to start sucking properly, Cecily helped to settle her in the right position. ‘Relax, lovey, she’s now found out how to suckle.’

  ‘I’m so lucky to have you here, Cecily. I don’t know what I’d do without you,’ Merryn said with a sigh.

  Once the baby was well fed and had fallen back to sleep, Cecily helped change her nappy and smiled as Merryn tucked her back into the cot. ‘You are most fortunate to have this baby. Don’t fret about Johnny; he’ll come round to accepting her once he grows used to the idea of a daughter instead of a son. Men do have that odd attitude now and then. Now, enjoy a good night’s sleep. That is what you badly need after this hectic day. And if you want any help at some point, ring this bell,’ she said, indicating one she’d placed on the bedside table. ‘I’ll just be in the next room and am happy to stay to help for as long as you wish.’

  ‘That would be wonderful, thank you so much.’ Merryn met her sister’s cheerful face with a smile of gratitude.

  Once Cecily had gone, quietly closing the door behind her, Merryn lay down and let the tears roll out of her eyes. She lay swamped in misery but strove to console herself, remembering how excited she’d been when Johnny had agreed to marry her. They’d had no honeymoon, having spent so much time away in France. Instead, they’d simply enjoyed making love, no longer with any reason to worry about the consequences. That had to stop eventually in view of Merryn’s condition. She remembered attempting to explain to him she was no longer capable of it, being close to the birth. He’d laughingly ignored her protest, but she’d finally made her point and banned him from her bed. It was now some time since they’d last made love. Her baby having been born, she would soon be free to resume their intimacy, which would surely restore their happy relationship. And as Cecily assured her, Johnny would surely then come to accept and adore their daughter.

  Dreaming of these benefits, she drifted off to sleep to be woken three hours later by the sound of the baby crying. Happily sitting up in bed and thankful that Johnny was sleeping upon the sofa in the living room since Cecily was in the spare room, she settled Josette at her breast several times during the night. Merryn felt concerned and weary at the length of time it always took to feed her. Oh, but she loved the feel of her baby daughter. Once Josette seemed contentedly full, she tucked her back into her cot and fell asleep herself, not waking until dawn broke and the baby was again eager to be fed.

  The door opened and Cecily crept in. ‘Morning, lovey. Here’s a cup of tea and a pile of new nappies. I’ll bring you a tray of breakfast once Josette has enjoyed hers.’

  ‘Oh, thank you. I do appreciate you being around to help.’

  ‘I’m happy to do what I can, at least until I manage to find myself some form of employment. Then my life will change.’

  ‘Mine already has,’ Merryn murmured, and gazing at her beloved daughter, a smile of contentment came into her face. How could she not be happy with her life?


  Cecily lay in bed in the spare room at her sister’s small terraced house feeling utterly shattered and in desperate need of a good night’s sleep. She’d spent the last week running up and downstairs, fetching and carrying food, nappies and endless cups of tea for Merryn as she coped with caring for her baby. Josette would gaze at her with her baby blue eyes and was so adorable Cecily felt an ache of longing arising within her. The hope of ever having children of her own had died, along with darling Ewan.

  Giving birth must be physically taxing. Nan had wisely called the local doctor to check all was well with Merryn as a consequence of this quick birth. He’d carefully examined her and agreed she was fine but insisted she must stay in bed for a little while to fully recover. Cecily had happily agreed to stay and care for her sister, aware how much Merryn needed her and what little support she got from Johnny.

  Yet again she could hear the baby crying, not sounding as if she would ever stop. Cecily dragged herself out of bed, pulled on her dressing gown and went to help. Merryn was again in a panic, holding her in the wrong position as the baby screamed. It couldn’t be easy to cope when one was so young. Eventually, Josette settled in the right position and began to suckle much-needed milk from her mother’s breast. Leaving mother and child in peace, Cecily gave her a kiss and crept out. On reaching her room, she was surprised to see Johnny hovering at the door. Thankful that she’d remembered to put on her dressing gown, she tightened the belt and pulled her collar up closer.

  ‘Is that damn baby ever going to stop yelling?’ he snarled.

  ‘Your lovely daughter is now happily being fed. It can take time for some babies to get the hang of how to do this. Why don’t you go in to give your wife some support, and see how Josette is getting much better?’

 

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