Girls of the Great War

by Freda Lightfoot

  Giggling with delight, Josette clapped her hands, looking thrilled by this. Merryn sang it again, then turned to Queenie. ‘Would you like to cuddle and sing to Josette too?’

  ‘No, she’s your child, not mine.’

  ‘If you are in pain, Queenie, it might help if you enjoyed the presence of your grandchild.’

  ‘Why would I? She cannot cure me.’

  ‘No, but she could cheer you up.’

  ‘Take her away, leave me in peace and get on with your jobs.’

  ‘Keeping you company is surely better than spending all my time cleaning and washing,’ Merryn remarked drily.

  ‘No, it damn well isn’t.’ And picking up the tray of breakfast she’d only half eaten, Queenie flung it across the bed on to the floor. The crashing sound as cups and plates smashed and tea flooded everywhere made Josette jerk with alarm and burst into tears.

  ‘There, there, darling, don’t cry. Mummy will see to this,’ Merryn said, and quickly settling her child in the armchair, ran to gather up the mess. ‘I know you’re in pain, Mama, but that was a stupid thing to do and greatly upset my daughter. You really should try to remain calm and not be so self-obsessed. Did you neglect and irritate Papa just as you are doing with Josette and me? That must have driven him away, and could have that effect upon us too. How would you cope if we left?’ Merryn struggled to mop up the tea with her handkerchief and pick everything up, feeling a spurt of anger as she cut her fingers on a broken plate.

  ‘I’m bored! Don’t you dare leave me. And I’ve no wish to speak of that man or discuss the problems I had with him. Concentrate upon reality, girl. I am sick!’

  Josette cried all the more as a result of her grandmother’s temper.

  Merryn furiously struggled to calm her down, having countless times over the years asked for the identity of their father. Despite the fact her mother would not be long in this world, she still refused to reveal any details of her past. It was entirely against her nature to tell the truth and being a most neglectful, self-opinionated woman, she was now treating her grandchild with equal disdain. Piling all the broken crockery on to the tray and picking up her weeping child, Merryn walked out in a huff.

  Later that day when Johnny came home, she explained the problems Queenie was suffering, and how she claimed to be bored. ‘She’s constantly aloof, unsociable or sleeps for hours on end. I suspect she is again drinking too much alcohol. I can smell it on her.’

  ‘Don’t talk ridiculous. I doubt she drinks gin any more. How would she find any?’

  ‘Maybe she persuaded those various maids I employed to buy her some gin or rum, and then sacked them if they refused to get her any more. Now, she obviously doesn’t consider the state of her health or the dreadful number of jobs she insists I do, making me wait upon her every hour of the day in order to save the expense of a nurse and housekeeper. I’m sorry but I don’t have the necessary time, ability or energy to do all the work necessary in this huge house, let alone fully care for Mama, being more involved with my darling daughter. Not only is she ruining my life but putting her own in mortal danger, which is so worrying.’

  ‘Don’t talk nonsense. You have plenty of time and if her health is growing worse, just provide her with another pill,’ he said, and giving a snort of laughter, marched away.

  How Cecily missed her sister, receiving few letters from her, care of the cruise office. Merryn never spoke of her marriage or whether Johnny had come round to adoring his daughter. She did write to say that Josette was growing fast and had celebrated her first birthday. That was some months ago when Cecily had sent her niece a birthday card and written regularly to her sister, but she had received no response since. When she was away at sea on the ship, Merryn could only contact her via radiotelegraphy if she had an urgent message. Cecily hoped she’d never feel the need to send one of those. Oh, but she regretted not being able to call and see her. Whenever they arrived at Portsmouth or sometimes Southampton, they had no free time to take a train and visit Plymouth. Once the current passengers had disembarked, they were required to assist in the preparation for the next ones, who came on board later the same day. Then the ship would sail away again. She worried about that, wishing all the more that she could see her beloved sister and ask how she was.

  She said as much to Boyd as they were busily working on stage, practising for their next performance that evening, then asked him, ‘Have you written to your mother recently?’

  ‘I’ve written to both her and my aunt, telling them that I’m enjoying a good job on a ship, but giving no specific details, and only received one letter in response, care of the office. As you know, Aunty had instructed me not to tell Mum that I was planning to move to Cornwall. When she replied to this latest news, she ordered me to explain exactly what I’m doing and when I’ll give it up and come home to work at her guest house, as requested, having no wish for me to upset Mum. I wrote to say I’d no plan to do that, which probably hasn’t gone down well.’

  ‘Oh dear, I wonder why your mother would be upset? Is she something of a worrier?’

  He frowned. ‘I was never aware that she was. I think she may be concerned for me to join her in Bournemouth because Dad died.’

  ‘I’m sure Nan is most caring of your mum, as she was of us, and will ultimately help her to accept reality. Do tell her that you are a successful pianist,’ she said with a smile.

  He gave a puff of disbelief. ‘I’m not convinced I am. If there were more men around, you could have chosen one much more talented than me.’

  ‘Nonsense! You’re doing fine.’

  Hearing the blast of the ship’s hooter, he said, ‘We’re off again. So these issues will have to be put on hold.’

  It was proving to be a busy life, and stimulating to be working with Boyd.

  Their next port of call was Malta, an island of which she had mixed emotions. When they landed, Cecily felt utterly speechless, her heart pounding as she recalled the dilemmas she’d gone through here, largely remembering Merryn’s state of health and the dreadful interrogation she’d experienced. Not subjects she wished to discuss. The island looked far more beautiful than it had back then, lit with glimmering golden sand and with no sign of munitions or jeeps anywhere around.

  ‘It did feel appropriate to visit this island towards the end of the war. It was a place filled with hospitals for injured men, but not as horrendous a battle area as Saint-Omer, Ypres or the Somme, places we were happy to leave. That war was so terrible that I find it far too difficult to speak of the horrors we faced.’

  ‘So do I.’

  They both fell silent as they took a walk along the coast, much lovelier despite the odd sign of bomb damage. Cecily had no wish to recall being grilled over allegedly rescuing the German PoW, nor how she’d been trapped in the trench with him, or the threat of rape she’d faced when caught by that German officer. At least Wilhelm had saved her in response to her saving him. Neither had she any wish to speak of the loss of hundreds of soldiers and close colleagues like Corporal Lewis as a result of the bombing they suffered. Boyd was equally silent, making no mention of what he had endured. Cecily felt it would not be appropriate to ask him. Those men who had returned to Blighty, injured or not, never spoke of what they’d had to live through either. It was much better for her heart and soul to merely speak of the pleasure they’d enjoyed as entertainers and the benefits they’d given those brave men.

  ‘We performed great concerts here at various hospitals for the Red Cross, convalescent camps, troopships and many other places. Our audiences were always huge – laughing, crying and cheering, giving us a thunderous applause as they did even in battle zones. And we had a standing ovation when we gave our final performance. We enjoyed coming to this beautiful island, delighted to hear that the end of the war was in sight but then received dreadful news about Louis Casey, a French-Canadian friend. He saved my life when our camp was bombed, so it was shattering to hear that he died in a battle close to the Somme right at the end of
the war. What a tragedy.’

  ‘It sounds like he was a brave man.’

  ‘He was indeed.’

  ‘Was he a man you fell in love with?’

  ‘Certainly not,’ she said, wondering if that was true as she recalled their close relationship. Smilingly shaking her head, she gave Boyd a quick kiss, he being the one she adored now. ‘We were just good friends who enjoyed some time together rowing, swimming and fishing.’ She carefully made no mention of their other activities. ‘He was definitely not the love of my life.’

  He gazed at her with devotion in his velvet brown eyes. ‘Can you guess who is the love of my life? Someone I hope I’ll never lose. One day you may receive an offer you cannot resist.’

  Was he implying that could be from him? This was a prospect that filled her with nervous excitement, despite having resolved she would remain single because of the losses she’d suffered. Oh, how she adored Boyd. Working on this ship with him was utterly delicious, and they spent much of their spare time together making love. ‘Do you think we’ll ever take part in a cruise to Canada?’ she asked, as they walked back up the gangplank to the ship. ‘If we do, I’d like to pay my respects for how Louis saved my life by placing flowers beside a war memorial in his name.’

  ‘We’ll look into that,’ he said, giving her an affectionate smile. ‘I too would be interested in visiting America and Canada and would happily support you with this wish.’

  THIRTY-ONE

  IT WAS late summer when they were involved in a cruise across the Atlantic, this time in a much larger ship, to New York. The streets were crowded and a little rough-looking, but packed with cars as well as wonderful buildings. Much work was apparently being done to provide electricity, running hot water and new industries for the citizens.

  ‘It feels a most modern city, quite impressive,’ Cecily remarked, relishing Boyd’s decision to walk across Brooklyn Bridge and visit Central Park, where she loved watching squirrels playing in the trees. She so much enjoyed sharing these trips on shore with him, as well as their performances. They did their bit for the company by assisting passengers and then savoured time off to explore whatever town or city they were in, which was so exciting.

  They next moved on to sail to Canada, far more important so far as Cecily was concerned. First they called at Newport on Rhode Island, a pretty town that was rich in history, where they were welcomed at a Quaker meeting house for afternoon tea. It reminded her of the one they’d enjoyed together in London. Would she ever see Lady Stanford again and receive from her the information about her father she’d once felt desperate for? Another lost man. The next port of call was Sydney in Nova Scotia, where apparently many immigrants from Scotland had arrived in the nineteenth century.

  ‘It feels quite Celtic,’ she said. ‘Quebec, however, is very much French and I’m so looking forward to our visit, hoping there’ll be a memorial where I can place a wreath of flowers in memory of Louis.’

  ‘We’ll look out for somewhere appropriate,’ Boyd remarked softly.

  When the ship moored at the dock in Quebec, Cecily felt nostalgia over the memory of her time with Louis and sadness for his loss. She was greatly impressed by this lovely walled city, remembering Louis’s description of his hometown that he’d loved. They walked along the curved cobbled streets up the hill, quite a long climb but most pleasant, and visited Cathedral-Basilica of Notre-Dame de Québec. They then went on to admire the magnificence of the Chateau Frontenac, a hotel so tall and magnificent it seemed to dominate the town.

  ‘The guidebook says this hotel has been very popular with rail travellers since it was built back in 1893. Thankfully, although we too are travellers, we don’t need to pay to stay here,’ Boyd said with a laugh, as they walked past it to the wall set around the square to look out at their splendid cruise ship moored in the harbour below. The view across the St Lawrence River was utterly breathtaking, making Cecily feel so privileged to be here. ‘Can we now move on to the Citadel, occupied by the soldiers?’ she suggested.

  ‘Good idea.’

  As they approached it, situated in a flat wooded area of land high above the city, she paused at the entrance to lay down the small wreath of flowers she’d bought. ‘Since we’re staying in Quebec for a couple of nights, I’d love to give them a performance in memory of Louis and other Canadian soldiers?’ she said.

  ‘That’s a good idea, why not? Let’s go and make them an offer.’

  Cecily and Boyd performed the following evening in the courtyard in the centre of the Citadel, surrounded by walls, cannons and beautiful green land. It was packed with a large audience of soldiers, many of them disabled or injured, reminding her of their audiences back in the war. As she stepped forward to sing, she was stunned to see Louis seated on the front row. He was not looking at her or grinning like he used to do. The state of his face was a shrunken mess, his nose twisted, and his eyes hidden behind a pair of dark spectacles. He sat holding a white cane in his hands and it came to her in that startling moment that the poor man must be blind and badly injured. At least he was alive, thank God! Beside him sat a young woman who fondly had her arm looped through his. Cecily felt so transfixed at the sight of him, she momentarily lapsed into silence. Then keenly aware Boyd had noticed her reaction to seeing him, she pulled herself together and began to sing: ‘Goodbye, France’. After that, she sang ‘Till We Meet Again’, which somehow seemed appropriate.

  At the end of the show, she turned to Boyd and whispered, ‘It’s so astounding to discover that he’s still alive.’

  ‘Maybe you knew that he was, and that’s why you wanted to come here.’

  She blinked in surprise. ‘I’d no idea! I must go and speak to him, if you don’t mind.’

  ‘I’ll come with you,’ he said, an expression of curiosity and concern in his gaze as he watched her hurry over to him.

  Cecily was delighted to find Louis standing waiting for her. ‘I can’t see you, Cecily, having lost my sight but when I was told you were going to perform for us, I couldn’t resist coming. I recognised your voice instantly. I’m so delighted to hear you sing again and amazed to find you here in Quebec.’

  He sounded so pleased if looking in something of a pitiful state, Cecily felt the urge to give him a warm hug. Thankfully, she managed to control that emotion. ‘Oh, and it’s even more remarkable to find you, Louis. I thought you were a goner. You must be so pleased he isn’t,’ she said with a smile to the woman standing beside him.

  ‘I am indeed,’ she murmured, squeezing his hand.

  ‘This is Caroline, my wife, who bravely agreed to marry me in spite of the mess I’m in.’

  ‘You’re doing fine, Louis, don’t fret. I confess to having been his girlfriend on and off for some years, so was only too delighted to marry him, even if he can’t see that I’m older and less attractive than I used to be,’ she said, giving a little laugh. ‘He did tell me what a good singer and friend you were, Cecily, and thank you so much for supporting him back in that terrifying war. He often speaks of how much he enjoyed the concerts you put on. Very noble of you.’

  ‘I was just doing my bit, as we women did back then. I’m now working on a cruise ship: much more pleasant than life in a camp or hospital during the war.’

  ‘And is this your husband?’ she asked, reaching out her hand to shake Boyd’s.

  ‘Actually, Cecily is a very special friend of mine and she did tell me about the loss of Louis. Good to meet you both,’ he said, happily shaking her hand, but not moving over to shake that of Louis’s.

  ‘I’m so thrilled and relieved to see that you are alive and well, but so sorry about your blindness.’

  ‘I’m pleased to meet you again too, Cecily,’ Louis said, reaching over to give her a hug while his wife smiled cheerfully at his kindness. ‘I want you to know how much I appreciated our friendship and the dancing we enjoyed together. I hope you were later informed that I’d survived, although I couldn’t write to anyone as it took a while for me to recover s
ince I had lost my eyesight and had a smashed face as well as other parts of me. Caroline had no objection to my blindness.’ He then put his arm around his darling wife and spoke to her in French, making her flush with happiness as he clearly said Je t’aime, saying he loved her.

  Watching him with his wife, it came to Cecily that she had never been in love with this man. She had simply enjoyed the friendship they’d shared and the fun they’d had together at a difficult time during the war, which he’d most cautiously described. Kissing them both on each cheek in the French way, she said goodbye and wished the pair of them every happiness.

  ‘How extraordinary that was to find him, even though he does have a sorrowful problem,’ she said as they strolled back down the hill. ‘And our performance went well, I think.’

  ‘It did indeed. You looked excited to see that man. I assume you were less pleased to meet his wife and jealous to discover that he’d married someone else.’

  She gave her head a firm shake. ‘I was totally uninterested in involving myself with a man ever again, having lost Ewan, my fiancé, determined not to consider marrying anyone.’

  ‘I’m aware there are few of us men around, but I can’t believe you would make the decision to remain single. I’m sure he was once a most handsome man. Did he make you a proposal that you accepted in order to improve your future?’

  ‘Of course not.’ Cecily felt her cheeks go a little pink as she recalled the offer Louis had made to her while they danced, which she’d treated as a joke. Not something she wished to mention, seeing the frown on Boyd’s face. She felt a prickle of panic, realising he’d seen her blushing and didn’t believe she’d received no offer from Louis.

  They fell into silence as they continued walking down to the dock. Maybe she’d said and done entirely the wrong thing by insisting they come to Canada in memory of him. It could well have damaged their intense relationship, Boyd convinced she was still pining for Louis. She doubted she’d ever receive an offer from him now.