by John R McKay
‘Hello Eddie, whatever is the matter?’ Then someone caught her eye over Edwina’s shoulder.
Before Edwina could reply Longworth stepped out of the doorway to the sitting room and smiled his nauseating smile at Victoria.
‘Hello Lady Victoria,’ he said, almost sneering.
‘Hello Longworth,’ she said. ‘Is your keeper and master here?’
‘No. He will be here shortly, he had some business to attend to in the city.’
Or someone, thought Victoria. ‘He did not send word that he was coming to London.’
‘I think he wanted to surprise you,’ grinned Longworth.
‘Very well,’ she said. ‘What were you doing in the sitting room?’
‘Nothing,’ he said. ‘Just getting a feel for the place. I’ve not been here for a while.’
‘Well do it somewhere else, please,’ she replied.
‘Very well,’ he said moving towards the stairs that led down to the kitchens. ‘I’ll get myself something to eat then.’ As he passed them he looked at Edwina and smiled again. ‘Edwina,’ he said.
After he had gone, Edwina said, ‘God that man gives me the creeps.’
‘Me too,’ Victoria replied. ‘As does his lord and master.’
Edwina laughed and Victoria laughed with her.
‘I’m going to get some sleep,’ she said after a while.
‘You should take a night off,’ Edwina replied. ‘You need some proper rest. It’s not doing you any good.’
‘It’s not doing anyone any good is it? I can’t lie in bed when people are dying out there. I couldn’t live with that.’
‘Victoria, you are so kind and generous. But take some advice from an old friend. You can’t go on like this much longer. You need your rest, everyone does.’
‘Maybe,’ she replied. ‘Maybe soon.’
‘Anyway,’ said Edwina, ‘I’ve got to go.’ She kissed Victoria on the forehead and then left her standing in the hallway as she exited the house on her way to carry out her duties.
‘Please be careful,’ Victoria called after her.
Edwina turned in the doorway and smiled back at her. ‘Don’t worry about me. Now go and get some sleep.’
Fifteen minutes later Victoria lay in bed, having spent a few minutes to update her journal with the day’s events, which were still running through her head preventing the sleep she craved from coming as quickly as she would have liked. If things weren’t bad enough, she would now have to endure Alexander and his repulsive little manservant. She hoped that his trip was fleeting and she would not have to spend any real time with him. She had not seen him since she had left Ardleigh Manor all those weeks ago and had hardly given him any thought recently, due to her being so busy. The bruises that he had given her had now faded away but the memory of that day would live with her forever and she knew there was no way back for them. Their marriage was over. As soon as the bombing stopped she would start divorce proceedings and get as far away from the man as she possibly could. She did not care if she ever set eyes on the evil bastard again for as long as she lived.
As sleep started to take hold her thoughts turned to the family caught in the house that she had passed and she prayed that the firemen and rescue workers had been successful in their attempts at getting them out safely. Despite Alexander’s return and the problems that that would bring, she could not agree more with the saying that there is always someone with bigger problems than yourself. At least she could retreat to the comfort and the solitude of her big warm bed which had to be a damn sight better than sleeping on a train platform or lying in the cold with tons of rubble upon you, not knowing if your family was alive or dead.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
15th December 1940
Information from Red Cross stop Corporal G Cooke 2301310 Royal Fusiliers is currently being held at Stalag 20b, Marianburg, Germany stop
Lt Col James, War Office
#
Victoria read the telegram and wept.
She remembered the conversation she had had with Elizabeth on the day she had left Ardleigh Manor all those weeks ago in such haste. That they should not give up hope. She had tried to remain positive but the truth of it was that she had accepted that Gregory was not alive and would never be returning to their lives. The message, which had been forwarded from the Manor by Mister Appleby, had taken her completely by surprise. She saw that it was dated exactly two weeks previously.
Although the nightly air raids were a constant threat, she still preferred to stay in the capital, away from Alexander, continuing with her W.V.S. work. Despite the dropping of the bombs and terrible fires, she still felt safer away from him and preferred taking her chances with the Heinkels and Dorniers of the Luftwaffe rather than live in the same house as her husband. However, after his short visit in late October he had not been back to London until he had decided to join her for the Christmas period. He had functions to attend in the capital, air raids permitting, and thought it better that the staff and his friends and associates believed that all was well in the Holbrook household. Of course many knew better. She had gone along with his plans for fear of another backlash and they had sat together in an awkward silence during Christmas dinner four days ago, making small talk with Elizabeth and her gentleman friend whom she had brought with her from Yorkshire, where she seemed to have taken up permanent residence.
The gentleman, Charles Greaves, had proven a very good conversationalist and although he would have been aware of the somewhat frosty atmosphere, he kindly pretended that he hadn’t noticed and engaged them both with amusing tales and polite chit-chat. He was a very handsome man with a charming and appealing manner and as he conversed with her parents Elizabeth had looked at him with adoring eyes and a huge smile on her face. Maybe she had found someone with whom she could be happy and for this Victoria felt extreme joy for her, but also slight envy, for this type of happiness she had never experienced herself.
Charles’s father owned a number of textile factories, a couple of which he had turned to making uniforms for the armed forces, and was a very wealthy man. This affluence would be the main reason why Alexander would approve of Charles courting Elizabeth, she thought, but Victoria’s own approval came because of the way in which the young man treated her daughter.
Francis had been unable to attend due to his duties on base and hoped to visit in the New Year. It had been so long since she had last seen him and she missed him terribly. Elizabeth and Charles had arrived in Kensington on Christmas Eve and mercifully the bombing had stopped and only resumed once they had departed for the north the day after Boxing Day. It was as though the enemy had purposefully kept away, just to allow them to have this time together uninterrupted. They had managed to spend their entire visit as though the war did not involve them.
The truth of it was, of course, totally different. The war was very much a part of her life right now. Her work in the W.V.S. and Edwina’s duties with the A.R.P. took up all of their time and had made them witness to things that had changed Victoria’s whole way of thinking about the future. She realised that when it was all over she could never go back to the way of life she had been used to prior to the war. The city was changing too and when, or if, it was to be rebuilt then it would surely look a whole lot different to the skyline she was used to.
For some reason her mind was taken back to that first raid on the seventh of September. She remembered that day very clearly above all the others. For hours and hours the Germans had dropped their bombs like a hellish rain, flattening the eastern side of the city and spreading fire and destruction across the docklands. Hundreds had been killed and injured. The Germans had brought the war to the front door of the British people and included them in it, without giving them any choice. The defences, the anti-aircraft guns and barrage balloons, had taken time to have any effect and had left the city vulnerable to anything that the Nazis wanted to throw at it.
Whenever the air raid sirens sounded thousands of Londone
rs made their way, sometimes almost casually, either downstairs to their cellars, to their back gardens where they would spend the nights in the government provided Anderson shelters or even to seek protection under their tables and the limited protection of the new Morrison shelters. The shocking thing for Victoria was that this was now routine, a way of life, and had become both expected and accepted. The respite they had been given over the last few days had now made way for more raids and she felt that it would never end. She could see no conclusion to it. The threat of death from the skies and the destruction and devastation that she had borne witness to was a constant reminder to her of her own mortality.
She had been impressed with the attitude of the populace. They had come together very strongly and a sense of togetherness had spread through the city as powerfully as the fires that had tried to destroy it.
At the Kensington house, the servants had made things as comfortable as they possibly could. The cellar, such a large room, had been an ideal shelter for every member of the household. Beds, mattresses and even a small cooking area where tea could be brewed and sandwiches made, had been placed down there for the comfort of them all, amongst the hundreds of bottles of expensive wine that belonged to Sir Alexander. The situation had made all of them equal. No matter whether they were a member of the family or a housemaid, butler or servant, they all slept in the same room along with some of their families who Victoria had insisted should join them. She had enjoyed this closeness that she felt with the staff, even though the reasons behind it happening were somewhat extreme.
Sir Alexander had put up little argument and had allowed the families to attend the house and make use of the room. He had spent minimal time in the capital anyway, visiting only when he could not avoid it and had point blank refused to sleep in the cellar with the staff, preferring instead to take his chances in one of the bedrooms.
She again read the very short message and wiped the tears away with a handkerchief. This was the best Christmas present that she could ever have wished for. Gregory was confirmed as alive as of just over two weeks ago. Elizabeth had been right to not give up hope and Victoria now felt a little ashamed that she, herself, had not had the same faith her daughter had shown. She hoped that Gregory was not suffering at the hands of the Nazis in the prison camp but decided immediately that she was not going to allow herself to think that way. All she knew was that he was alive and she would take some comfort from that fact for a while. Eventually, she hoped, he would be coming home.
She went to find Edwina and discovered her downstairs in the kitchen with the cook, having a cup of tea and a cigarette. As she entered the room they both stood up and she beckoned for them to sit back down. Things had changed and she had no time for that nonsense anymore.
Smiling, she asked: ‘Is there any more tea in the pot?’
‘Yes Lady Holbrook,’ the cook replied. ‘But I will do a fresh one if you prefer.’
Ignoring her, Victoria took a cup from a worktop and, taking the pot, poured herself a drink and sat down at the table with them. Before they could say anything she said: ‘I have had some absolutely wonderful news today, the best news ever.’
Edwina looked at her enquiringly.
‘It’s Gregory. He’s alive.’
A huge smile filled Edwina’s face and tears immediately sprung from her eyes. ‘Oh my God!’ she exclaimed.
‘Isn’t it wonderful? He’s being held in a prisoner of war camp somewhere in Germany. I’ve had word from the War Office. The Red Cross have informed them. I can’t tell you how happy I am.’
‘This is wonderful news, absolutely wonderful.’
‘I’m so happy for you, Lady Holbrook,’ said the cook smiling at her. ‘He’s a wonderful boy. Always polite and respectful.’
‘Have you been able to tell Elizabeth and Francis?’ asked Edwina.
‘Not yet,’ she replied. ‘You are the first I’ve told. I’ll try later but Elizabeth’s gone to see Charles’s parents for the New Year and I may not be able to get hold of her until she’s back at Charlotte’s. And it’s always so very difficult getting hold of Francis these days. He is due here next week so I may write to him rather than try and telephone.’
‘When is Sir Alexander back from his meeting?’ asked Edwina. ‘Are you going to tell him?’
‘Oh yes,’ she replied. ‘And I will take great pleasure in doing so. He is due back early evening, I think, but you never know with him when he’ll show up.’
She picked up her tea and took a sip. ‘You know what, Mrs Slater,’ she said to the cook, smiling. ‘I think I will have a fresh cup if you don’t mind.’
#
Sir Alexander returned to the house just after five o’clock as the night was beginning to close in. Following behind, assisting him with his coat and placing them on a coat stand, was Longworth.
He entered the sitting room where he found Victoria alone reading a book. She looked up at him, said nothing and then went back to reading her novel. He sat down opposite and started to take off his shoes. ‘So, how was your day?’ he asked nonchalantly, ‘did you do anything exciting?’
Her eyes fixed purposefully on her book she said, ‘I didn’t do too much to be honest. However I do have some news that you need to be made aware of.’
‘Go on,’ he said looking up.
She looked over to him. He sat with one shoe in his hand and the other still on his foot, waiting expectantly, his interest suddenly aroused.
‘I had a telegram this morning,’ she said calmly, almost to the point of indifference for she knew it would annoy him. ‘It was from the War Office.’
He put the shoe down on the floor and sat back. ‘Come on,’ he said, his irritation starting to form. ‘Spit it out woman.’
‘Apparently Gregory isn’t dead. He’s being held by the Germans in a prisoner of war camp in Germany.’ She went back to her book, leaving him sitting there, one shoe on and one shoe off, his mouth wide open. She found it extremely difficult to maintain a straight face, to stop herself from laughing, but she somehow found the will to manage it. She glanced to the side. He truly looked pathetic, she thought.
‘Is this some kind of sick joke? Because if it is then I don’t find it amusing in the slightest.’
‘I can assure you Alexander, that this is no joke. Would I joke about something as serious as this? This is the best news that we could have ever had, don’t you agree?’
Alexander stared at her, a look of pure hatred in his eyes. ‘Like I told you a few months ago, Victoria,’ he spat the words out at her, ‘I couldn’t care less if he was dead or alive. He means nothing to me.’
‘He is your brother’s son,’ she replied nervously. She was not at all comfortable with the way his demeanour had suddenly changed and she knew all too well from previous experience what the man was capable of.
‘Is he?’ Alexander raised his voice. ‘Are you totally sure of that? We only have that dead whore’s word for it, don’t we? She could have spread her legs for anyone. The truth of it is that you could have taken in anyone’s son.’
She looked at him, infuriated. ‘How on earth can you say that? He is the absolute image of John. It’s blatantly clear who his father is. Even a fool can see that.’
It took Alexander two seconds to reach her. He slapped her hard across the top of the head, taking her completely by surprise, causing her to drop the book onto the floor. As he swung at her again she put her hands to her head to protect herself. He slapped her twice more and then sat back down to take off his other shoe, remaining silent.
Victoria tried to compose herself. She did not want to antagonise him further. She did not want his violent acts towards her to develop into something more sinister. He looked up at her and glared once more. ‘I would have thought you may have learned your lesson by now. I will not tolerate you speaking to me in such a way, do you hear?’
‘I was merely telling you what you already know, Alexander. There was no need for you to react in
such a way. If you want me to keep out of your way then all you have to do is say so. I will gladly do that.’
‘Be careful Victoria,’ he said. ‘I don’t like hitting you, believe me I don’t. But you must understand that I cannot have you disrespecting me. I simply will not tolerate it. I have one or two more things to do here before I leave for Suffolk, then we can carry on avoiding each other.’
‘Suits me fine,’ she replied, picking the book up off the floor and placing it on a small table beside her. ‘I’m going up to my room.’
She rose from the chair and made to leave the room but Alexander stood up and faced her, blocking her exit. ‘You will leave my presence when I say you can and not a moment sooner.’
‘Just who the hell do you think you are?’ said Victoria, incensed at his attitude. ‘Will you please get out of my way? You have ruined what was a perfect day for me and I have had enough of you. I only see you once in a blue moon and when I do it’s always a total nightmare. I cannot stand the sight of you.’
He hit her full in the face with a closed fist, knocking her off her feet. She knew straight away, as she hit the floor, that her nose was broken. She sensed the blood pumping down over her mouth and chin and her eyes filled with water. Strangely she felt no pain but she understood that it was probably the shock that blocked it out. She lay for a few moments not moving, waiting for the shock of it to subside. She had been well aware of his violent streak and his temper and had been on the receiving end of it once before, but she had not realised that he was capable of it to this extreme.
She felt him kick her in the side of her body but could do nothing to prevent it. She instinctively curled herself into a ball, drawing her knees up to her chest making herself as small as she possibly could and took the blows as he continued to kick at her body and head. Even though he had taken off his footwear she could sense that the blows were causing serious damage. He was shouting and swearing at her as he continued the assault but she could not understand any of his words.
