Girls of the Great War

by Freda Lightfoot

  ‘Not since he’s no longer interested in the concert party.’

  ‘I thought it was wrong of Queenie, and even Johnny, to put an end to our concert party, considering all we went through together during the war in France. Not that there was anything we could do about that and they both thankfully started working again for the Palace Theatre, which is a good thing.’

  ‘I can perfectly understand that. Why would they not?’

  ‘Johnny is so busy he spends less time at home than he used to.’

  ‘Oh dear, is that a problem?’

  ‘No, no, I’m happy that he’s doing so well, and being an equally busy mother I’m willing to accept that.’ Merryn frowned, not wishing to explain how a distance seemed to be developing between them, maybe because of the work he was engaged in rather than simply losing interest in her.

  Cecily gave her a sympathetic smile. ‘With regard to Nan’s nephew joining me in this project, neither his aunt nor Queenie must be told. Nan has tried to persuade Boyd to work with his mother in her B & B, which he has no wish to do. So we can’t tell them about this cruise until we have proof our professional partnership works.’

  ‘I won’t say a word,’ Merryn promised. Judging by the excitement in her sister’s eyes and all too aware of her talent, she suspected Cecily could be absent for weeks or even months, a situation she dreaded. ‘I’m so glad you have this young man’s support. Could you become a serious couple?’ she teasingly asked.

  Cecily gave a shy smile. ‘Who knows. I do find him most caring and attentive, and really quite attractive. I’m also impressed by his skill as a pianist. We leave in ten days so I must now go and check what I should take with me. They do provide us with a few costumes but we’re allowed to take some of our own. Would you help me sort that out and do some shopping, lovey?’

  ‘I’d be happy to help you get yourself sorted.’

  The next few days passed in a whirl of activity, Merryn rigorously engaged herself in helping Cecily go through her wardrobe to choose appropriate stage costumes, day dresses, hats, stockings and suitable shoes to take with her, as well as spending several hours shopping together for items she required. She also spent much of her time watching Cecily rehearse, listening and applauding while she sat mending and improving garments in need of attention. Baby Josette would lie on the hearthrug waving her legs about, also seeming to enjoy the music. At times Merryn would give her baby a cuddle and let her sit contentedly on her lap. She was over three months old and growing increasingly lively.

  Queenie too would sometimes come to listen and offer advice. She generously loaned Cecily a few garments, demonstrating how they should be folded and properly packed. Cecily always thanked her mother for this support, making it clear she would be working alone, carefully avoiding details of this new partnership. On the day she was due to leave, Merryn happily smiled as she saw her mother give Cecily a warm hug.

  ‘Do enjoy this trip and don’t misbehave with any men you don’t know well.’

  Cecily burst out laughing. ‘As you’ve never done, Mama?’

  Queenie gave a wicked little grin at this remark. ‘I’m suggesting you do not make the same mistakes I made. My own mother was somewhat foolish over men and I have been too, so make sure you find one who is rich, high-class and most caring, as I have advised you to do on numerous occasions. And do take care of yourself, dear girl.’

  Seeing a glow of happiness in her sister’s eyes as Queenie gave her another hug and a kiss, Merryn could see Cecily was savouring this rare moment of closeness between them, their relationship having never been easy. Or could their mother simply be relieved that Cecily was leaving? Not a pleasant thought. And it was interesting to hear Queenie speak of her own mother.

  Merryn accompanied Cecily on the train to Portsmouth and walked with her down to the dock, pushing little Josette along in her pram, fascinated to see Nan’s nephew waiting for her sister on the dock. When the time came for the ship to depart, she enfolded her with warm affection, fighting back tears in an effort to remain calm. ‘Johnny sends his best wishes and apologises that he wasn’t able to come and see you off.’

  ‘I expect he’s busily engaged in rehearsals,’ Cecily said.

  Aware that her husband and sister had barely spoken a word to each other since he’d ordered Cecily out of the house, Merryn said, ‘Actually, he claimed to be in need of rest today, probably because he’s been working too hard recently. Thankfully he’s slowly coming round to accepting our daughter as a small treasure. He spends time watching her being fed and I’ve sometimes persuaded him to sit her on his knee.’ It happened once following an argument, but she tactfully made no mention of that.

  ‘Excellent! I do hope he becomes a good father to my adorable niece,’ Cecily drily said, giving Josette a sweet kiss.

  ‘Do enjoy your performances, as well as exploring all the fascinating places you’ll be visiting. It was nice to meet you, Boyd, and good luck,’ she said, shaking his hand, then giving Cecily another big hug, as tears rolled down her cheeks.

  ‘I’m sure we’ll have an exciting time. You take care of yourself too, darling, as well as your lovely baby,’ Cecily said as she too began to weep, locking Merryn close in her arms. Finally releasing her, she walked hand in hand with Boyd up the gangway to board the ship.

  Once they were up on deck, Merryn saw how this young man pulled her sister close to put his arms around her. When she heard the blast of the ship’s horn and it slowly began to sail away, she bleakly watched them depart, doing her best to smile and wave. Merryn then took the train home and fell into Johnny’s arms in a flood of tears. She was in a sorry state of emotion, which he instantly attempted to resolve by having sex with her. Merryn made no protest even as she again found herself unimpressed by his harsh lovemaking.

  In the weeks following, Merryn became increasingly lonely, not having seen much of Cecily. Thankfully, she did come home for Christmas and as always, the two sisters had been delighted to see each other. They’d spent a happy Christmas Day with Queenie, Cecily thrilled to see her lovely niece, a fun and lively child who was rapidly growing. Merryn saw herself as a devoted and caring mother if at times a little subdued, perhaps because it troubled her that Cecily would be leaving again soon on more cruises. Following the Christmas dinner, Johnny had ordered her to provide him with a glass of port, even though she’d been fully occupied with feeding her baby daughter.

  As he was just lying on the sofa, Cecily had told him off. ‘I believe you’re capable of pouring yourself a glass, whereas Josette cannot feed herself. Mama does now have a new maid to do the cooking, appointed by Nan when she retired, but there’s no butler around.’

  Queenie hooted with laughter. ‘I’ve never been able to afford one of those nor wished to. Do pour me a glass too, Johnny.’

  Frowning, he marched off to fetch a bottle of port from the table in the corner, making no further comment. Once Josette was fed, Merryn did a lot of dashing to and fro refilling his glass, fetching his cigarettes, providing him with nuts and a slice of Christmas cake, as well as plumping up the cushions behind his back. Much to her irritation, he did nothing for her, his wife.

  When Cecily ordered a carriage to take them home, she gave Merryn a little whisper of advice. ‘Make sure you don’t allow this husband of yours to boss you around, lovey. You’re not his slave.’

  Were Cecily still around, Merryn would seek her sister’s guidance on how to deal with Johnny. She’d so appreciated the thrill of marrying him and the heady excitement of setting up home together, regardless of his displeasure at renting this small shabby house. He had always seemed to be a polite and amusing man but was now becoming increasingly bad-tempered and domineering, for no reason she could understand. And he was still not at all interested in their lovely daughter. The fact that Johnny had at last found a job was a great relief. He’d made it clear that as his wife, Merryn would have no reason ever to go back on stage or to work. This was something of a disappointment, being y
oung and having loved those performances. However, now she was a mother she had no wish to be as neglectful as Queenie had been. That being the case, Merryn involved herself in tasks far less boring than washing nappies, cooking and cleaning.

  Greatly relieved that Queenie insisted she’d no wish for them to live with her, she’d done her best to perk up this old house. Oddly enough Johnny didn’t approve of her doing such work. Not the walls she’d painted white, the curtains, cushions and rugs she’d made, or even the pretty pictures she’d drawn and put up on Josette’s nursery walls. His attitude seemed almost as though it was wrong for a young wife to be active and have a sense of independence. Not that hers was as strong as it was in Cecily. Nevertheless, having survived the difficulties of war, it now felt a part of her.

  Today, when he came home for lunch following his morning rehearsal, he found her busily engaged in painting the kitchen cabinets. ‘What the hell are you doing?’

  ‘I’ve chosen to carry out this task, again using a creamy white paint to make them look more clean and sanitary. Isn’t it lovely?’

  ‘It’s not your task to do such jobs. You should hire someone or ask the landlord to do it. Concentrate on cooking, which is what women are expected to do. Where is my lunch?’

  She smiled consolingly at him. ‘There’s a cheese and onion pie keeping warm in the cooker for you, dear. I did get permission from our landlord for me to do this painting, which I’m perfectly capable of. I’d no wish to pay someone when we’re still a bit short of money.’

  ‘We might be forever, unless my wages rise. Your mother is well off, so why don’t you ask her to give you some more?’

  Merryn stifled a sigh, finding him far too obsessed with money. Queenie had granted them a small sum when they first married, if not as much as Johnny had hoped for. Merryn had felt deeply grateful for her providing them with a reasonable income until her husband had found employment. Her mother could be a difficult woman and very neglectful, but at times most generous and caring. Why would she ask for more? Merryn had no wish to be subject to the demands Queenie used to place upon her for all manner of tasks, determined to rely upon her own independence. ‘Now that you have your job back, Johnny, we thankfully no longer require Queenie’s assistance. I surely have the right to engage myself in other household tasks, not simply cooking and sewing, as well as run my own life.’

  ‘No, you damn well don’t. I make the decisions on how we run our lives. Turning yourself into an odd-job person is definitely not what I want from you. You’re my wife, so do as you’re told. Fetch me my lunch now!’ he yelled, and snatching the paint can off her, he flung it into the sink.

  ‘Oh no, look what you’ve done, Johnny! You’ve splashed paint all over the sink.’ Dashing over, she quickly lifted up the can before it dripped out any more and began to scrub the sink with a large brush.

  Grabbing her arm, he yanked her round to face him and raising a fist, shook it dangerously close to her face. ‘Listen to what I say, girl,’ he hissed, spitting in fury. ‘Get my lunch out of the oven now or you’ll live to regret your neglect of me.’

  A shiver of trepidation rippled through her. She knew that it was not wise to disagree with the decisions and comments Johnny made. He rarely listened to her opinion or needs, becoming a most meticulous and dictatorial man. Each evening, Merryn was expected to ensure that his bow ties were hung at precisely the right position in the wardrobe, his shirt was folded once he’d taken it off, and his trousers put in the press. His clothes had to be perfectly attended to. ‘Please calm down, Johnny. I’m attempting to improve our life, not neglect you. Why would I when we survived the war together? I’ve certainly no wish to impose further demands upon Mama now that her income is starting to fall.’

  Panic and guilt flickered in his grey eyes, clearly visible, as he wasn’t even wearing his spectacles. Had Cecily been right that he lied about his poor vision in order to avoid being called up? And he did seem to be obsessed with money. Unclasping his fist, he pulled her into his arms. ‘Sorry, sweetheart, you’re right in saying the war was damaging, which does affect my mood at times. Performing for the troops was dangerous and we were most fortunate that none of us were injured. I will try to calm down.’

  The sound of their infant crying echoed loudly down the stairs and Merryn attempted to pull herself away from him. ‘That’s good, now help yourself to lunch while I go and see to Josette.’

  ‘Not just now,’ he said. Then pushing her down upon the kitchen table, he yanked up her skirt and thrust himself into her.

  Later, when he’d returned to the theatre, Merryn finally fed her distressed and hungry child and scrubbed the sink clean. Then she sat at the kitchen table feeling even more confused and depressed. She’d once believed that all was well with their marriage, now she was beginning to think it was going terribly wrong. Certainly, her early sense of excitement had disintegrated. She remembered Cecily warning her to carefully consider whether she should marry Johnny. Had she made a dreadful mistake in doing that? Wiping the tears from her flooded eyes, Merryn told herself she must be content with life and hope that he would improve their marriage, whatever his current problem was. Was he under considerable pressure at the theatre? It was difficult to know since he never allowed her to attend and watch him play. Merryn felt increasingly confined to this house and kitchen. Surely she would eventually convince him, not least her mother, that she was no longer a child since she would turn twenty-one next year. Thereafter, she should be considered old enough to run her own life.

  TWENTY-NINE

  1920

  EACH OCCUPYING a small single cabin on the lower deck of the ship, Cecily and Boyd ate with the other entertainers, crew members, photographers and artists, which gave them very little in the way of privacy. Living in close quarters with strangers definitely required tact. As Cecily was accustomed to working with soldiers and was very independent, she had no problem with that. Boyd was great fun and on their first cruise they visited some marvellous places: Alicante, Gran Canaria, Tenerife and Funchal. She did welcome his presence and was delighted to be singing with him. They worked long hours, seven days a week, there being a great deal involved in these cruises. Each morning, Cecily would wake up around seven o’clock and go to the crew’s buffet for breakfast. They would then go on to rehearse and practise for two or more hours.

  ‘Do not allow yourself to fall into stage fright,’ she’d warned him when at the start she’d seen his hands trembling. ‘Pretend there’s no one around listening to you and you’re simply playing for yourself.’

  ‘I’ll remember that,’ he’d said with a grin.

  ‘It also helps if you pay attention to other musicians on occasion. I love to listen to many singers and learn a lot from them. In the meantime, we’ll keep on practising.’

  Now, with Christmas over and it being the start of the Twenties, they sailed to Venice where they enjoyed a gondola trip along the Grand Canal to the island of Murano, then on to Corsica, Barcelona and Malaga. Occasionally they were granted a little time off, and Cecily always loved spending it with Boyd. Here in Tangier, they visited an ancient mosque, walked through streets packed with donkeys and watched men making pottery or painting candlesticks. One group were working in a tannery, looking soaked to the skin as they trod in the stinking pools that processed the leather. When Cecily expressed sympathy for them, then admiration of a beautiful bag they had on sale, Boyd purchased it for her.

  ‘There’s really no reason for you to be so generous,’ she said, flushing.

  ‘Why would I not? Let’s revel in this trip since we enjoy each other’s company.’

  Experiencing a coil of pleasure at this remark, she gave him a dazzling smile. ‘I love it too. I’ll find something to buy for you.’

  When they were approached by a salesman urging them to come and view rugs he was selling, she gave Boyd a quizzical glance and he laughingly declined the offer. ‘Where on earth would I put such a thing in my small cabin? Nor do I own a ho
use. But maybe one day . . .’ There was something in the glint of his gaze that seemed to be saying she could be part of it. But would she ever agree to that, having resolved never to fall in love again? Oh dear, Cecily was finding it extremely difficult not to care for this man. Noting the confused emotion in her eyes, he smiled and gave her a kiss, making her mouth fall dry with desire. ‘You can buy me a glass of mint tea instead,’ he said, which she happily did. She also ordered tajine, a lamb stew, for their lunch, both of them savouring its delicious flavour, as well as the fun they enjoyed together.

  What a wonderful man he was.

  Merryn was carefully making no complaints to Johnny, concentrating on being a good wife and mother, even if her husband was becoming increasingly controlling. Caring for little Josette, who was growing into a lively toddler, having recently celebrated her first birthday, took up hours of her day, although she now slept well all night. Merryn made sure that she only carried out difficult jobs on the house once her daughter was fast asleep and Johnny had left for the theatre, knowing he would not be home for hours. So long as his meals were provided on time and his clothes dealt with exactly as he required, he never noticed any further improvements she made upon the kitchen as he rarely visited it. He was spending even more time at the theatre, no doubt fully wrapped up in his performances. When he returned home late at night, Merryn always had to make certain she was tucked up in bed, for he would rapidly make love to her. That was surely a good thing, although much less of a pleasure than it used to be. He rarely bothered to caress or kiss her, which made her feel used rather than loved.