Summer House

by Nichols, Mary

  ‘Out,’ they said in unison.

  ‘What about your revision? The exam is only a couple of days away.’

  ‘What they don’t know now, they’ll never know,’ Alice put in. ‘You can’t cram any more into them.’

  ‘Tha’s right,’ Donny said. ‘I’m stuffed up to here.’ He indicated his throat.

  Jenny smiled and let them go. It was then she noticed the visitors. ‘Jenny, this is Laura,’ Kathy said. ‘And this is baby Robby. Isn’t he a poppet? And so good, we haven’t had a peep out of him.’

  ‘Hallo, Laura,’ Jenny said, bending over to admire the baby contentedly asleep in his mother’s arms. ‘He’s gorgeous. How old is he?’

  ‘Three weeks tomorrow.’

  ‘And isn’t it a strange coincidence, Laura knows Steven,’ her mother put in.

  ‘Really?’ Jenny went to sit at the table to drink the tea her mother had poured for her. Laura was the name of his friend’s bride, the one he was going to be best man for. She was tempted to say something but decided it would be tactless.

  ‘Laura has come to live with Aunt Helen,’ Kathy explained. ‘The Hall is being made into an Air Ministry hospital and Laura is going to be in charge.’

  ‘That will keep you very busy,’ Jenny said, addressing Laura.

  ‘Yes, but I shall enjoy the challenge.’

  ‘Does Steve know you are here?’

  ‘No. I had no idea he lived in Beckbridge, nor that he is related to Helen. Perhaps I shall see him when he comes home on leave.’

  ‘Whenever that might be,’ Kathy said. ‘You can never tell these days. The news is terrible, isn’t it? What with the Blitz and our boys being shot down and U-boats sinking our ships. The twins’ father is on a destroyer and I worry about him as well as Steven. They have already lost their mother as a result of the bombing.’

  ‘Poor boys,’ Laura said. ‘I know what that’s like. My grandmother was killed by a direct hit.’

  ‘And there’s the rationing,’ Alice piped up as the others murmured condolences. ‘Jam and syrup and coal now on top of everything else, and the meat ration down again. One and ten pence-worth a week, I ask you! It’s hardly enough for one meal let alone for a week, and I’m fed up with rabbit.’

  ‘Sitting here chatting won’t buy the baby a new bonnet,’ William said, getting up and putting his cup and saucer on the tray. ‘I must get back to work. Nice to have met you, Mrs Drummond.’

  ‘Oh, Laura, please. I expect we’ll meet again.’

  William left and it was a sign for Laura and Helen to depart. As they were going to the door, Helen turned back. ‘Kathy, do you know anyone in the village who might give Laura a hand with the baby? If she’s busy with the hospital, she’ll need someone reliable.’

  ‘Not offhand. You could ask Joyce Moreton. She’s bound to know.’

  ‘Good idea. We were going to do a bit of shopping and register Laura’s ration book.’

  On the way to the shop, with Helen pushing the pram, she explained to Laura who Joyce was and all about Ian Moreton and his hidden stash of black market goods. ‘He’s as slippery as an eel,’ she said. ‘How he managed to get rid of the evidence so quickly is a mystery.’

  Laura smiled; they had spivs like that in every community. ‘Fancy Steve coming from this village,’ she said. ‘We talked about his home and his family but he never said where it was. And I didn’t mention your name either when he helped me to the hospital. Do you think he’ll let the cat out of the bag about my not being married? I wish now we hadn’t started that fiction.’

  ‘I’m sure he won’t. He’s a nice lad. He was always friendly to me, not one to bear grudges.’

  ‘Grudges?’

  ‘Yes. Kathy and I fell out, years ago it was, but it’s all right now. The war sometimes brings people together as well as throwing them apart.’

  Laura wondered what the two women had fallen out over, but didn’t like to ask. ‘Like you and Mum.’

  ‘Yes, and you and Steven.’

  ‘There was never anything between me and Steve. He was Bob’s friend. Mine, too. He always seemed to arrive when I needed someone.’

  Helen smiled but said nothing.

  Chapter Seven

  STEVE, TAKING A break from training on the Lancaster he was going to fly, was reading his mail in a corner of the mess and as he read his eyes opened wide and his heart began to beat faster. Laura was in Beckbridge living with Cousin Helen and they were going to run a hospital for injured airmen. It was unbelievable! And she had a son called Robby, who was a little peach. She asked to be remembered to him and said how grateful she was for his help. ‘She says she hopes to see you when you are next on leave,’ his mother had written. Next on leave. He wanted to dash off home straight away to see for himself that it really was Laura, but he had only just come back and it would be ages before he got more time off. He read on. ‘She is uncannily like Helen, had you noticed? Granny saw it at once and said so aloud, but Helen says there’s no relationship. I can’t think there is either, because I’m sure I know everyone in the family.’ He stopped reading to consider the question and decided any resemblance was superficial. What was more important was how he felt about Laura.

  Over the months since Bob’s funeral, when he had held her in his arms to comfort her, his feelings for her had grown, become more than mere friendship. He supposed that was why he had been so shocked by her pregnancy, but the night he had helped her to the hospital he had realised nothing could change the way he felt for her. But he could not tell her so, not yet.

  He put the letter in his breast pocket and strolled outside. A new intake of airmen had just arrived and were tumbling out of the back of a truck, laughing and talking. They were young, fresh-faced and eager. One, with a shock of red hair and a sergeant’s stripes on his arm, looked familiar. Steven waited to be seen and recognised.

  Ken Moreton, grabbing his kit from the back of the truck, turned and saw him. ‘Steve Wainright! Would you believe?’

  Steve smiled. ‘So you made it into the RAF then?’

  ‘Yes, but not a fighter squadron. What are you doing here? I thought you were flying fighters.’

  ‘I transferred. Thought I’d like a crack at giving Jerry a bit of his own medicine.’

  ‘How are you finding it? The change, I mean?’

  ‘It’s a bit like going from driving a racing car to a London bus, but I haven’t been passed for ops yet. We’ve yet to assemble our crews. I imagine that’s what you lot are.’

  ‘Yes. I’d be honoured if you’d have me as navigator.’

  ‘Let’s have a run together and see how we get on.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Been home lately?’

  ‘Just got back. Nothing much has changed, except the Air Ministry bods and builders are swarming all over the Hall. It’s being made into a convalescent hospital. Stella was full of it. She’s got a job up there looking after Mrs Drummond’s baby. I reckon she only went so that she could flirt with the patients, but there aren’t any there yet. She loves the baby though, says he’s no trouble and Mrs Drummond is nice to her. Her husband was in the RAF and got shot down, so Ma told me. She said you knew her.’

  So Laura was pretending she’d been married. He could not blame her for that, considering how narrow-minded people could be, how narrow-minded he had been. ‘Her husband was my squadron leader.’

  ‘Small world, eh?’

  ‘Very.’ Steve was thinking about Laura and was barely listening.

  ‘Who’d have thought we’d end up on the same station? In the same aircraft perhaps. I think I’ll like flying with you, being as you’re an old hand and know the ropes.’

  Steve smiled. Sometimes being an old hand had its disadvantages; you knew the pitfalls, when perhaps it might be better to be ignorant. Fearfulness brought its own risks. ‘Perhaps, but when we’re on the base, it’s “Skip” not Steve. Remember that, will you?’

  ‘Yes, sir!’ Ken sprang to attention and saluted
, making Steve laugh. The young man was exuberant, cheerful and incredibly young. Steve wondered if he’d still be like that after a few weeks on ops. It made him feel old himself and he had to remind himself that he was only twenty-three. He prayed he would see his twenty-fourth birthday and a lot more after that. There was so much he wanted to do, so much to see, so much to think about. Laura, for one.

  He excused himself and returned to his room, where he reread his mother’s letter and then sat gazing at the photograph of Laura, which stood on his locker where he could see it every morning when he woke. Was it fate that had sent her to Beckbridge? It meant he was almost sure to see her the next time he went on leave and he could take it from there. It would be some time before that could happen, so he contented himself with writing to her and getting on with the job in hand.

  He assembled his crew and they became a well-knit team and flew on several operations over Germany. It was no less hazardous than flying fighters; what with flak and the fighters sent up to intercept, he felt a bit like a sitting duck. But Ken was a good navigator and they both took a savage joy in finding their target and returning some of the terror that had been inflicted – and was still being inflicted – on London and elsewhere.

  In May the Blitz reached a new peak and on one bitterly cold night it seemed the whole of London was in flames. Returning safely from a mission, he could see a pall of black smoke and the lurid glow of flames over the city from many miles away and wondered if anything could possibly be left standing. The following day, the newspapers made much of the fact that St Paul’s still survived among the ruins, though Westminster Hall, the Houses of Parliament, the British Museum and every main-line station had been hit. No figures were published, but it didn’t take a genius to realise there must have been appalling casualties. Steve was glad Laura was safe in Beckbridge.

  It was the beginning of August before he could get home again and by then the Luftwaffe’s attention had been directed elsewhere and everyone breathed again. His father was glad to see him, not only to know that he was safe but because he was about to start harvesting the wheat and an extra pair of hands would be useful.

  ‘William,’ Kathy protested. ‘How can you put the boy to work the minute he comes home? He looks exhausted.’

  ‘I’ll be all right after a good night’s sleep, Mum, and a little healthy work out of doors might be just what the doctor ordered.’

  ‘How much longer is it going to go on?’ Kathy asked, as she set about preparing the evening meal. ‘There doesn’t seem to be any end in sight. Germans in Yugoslavia and Crete and Russia. Churchill was right, it’s nothing but blood, sweat and tears and no good news anywhere. And when I see some of those poor boys they’ve got up at the Hall, it makes my blood curdle.’

  ‘You’ve seen them?’

  ‘They go down to the village sometimes. I don’t know how Laura can stand it day after day, but according to Helen she’s marvellous with the poor fellows and they’re all falling head over heels in love with her.’

  ‘That’s par for the course,’ he said noncommittally.

  ‘She’s a nice girl. Where Helen found her, I’ve no idea. They are so alike in looks and yet nothing alike in their ways. Helen is still the lady of the manor even if it is now a hospital, while Laura is down to earth, but gentle with it.’

  ‘And the baby?’

  ‘He’s good as gold, which is something to be thankful for, considering how young Stella is. The arrangement seems to work, though. Will you go up and see them?’

  ‘Yes, I expect so.’

  He strolled up to the Hall the next day and was struck by the change in the place. The carriage drive had been weeded, the lawns cut and the borders were alive with lupins, delphiniums, stocks and lilies. Two or three men in hospital blue were on their knees weeding. He stopped to chat, noting with a kind of revulsion he did his best to hide how disfigured they were, some more than others. And yet they seemed cheerful. He left them and went on to the front door, which stood wide open. He stepped inside to find the vestibule looked as it always had, with its ornate staircase and paintings on the walls, but now it had a polished, lived-in feel about it and there was a reception desk in one corner. It was unattended but there was a bell on it, which he picked up and rang. After a minute a young nurse came down the hall.

  ‘Is Staff Nurse Drummond about?’

  ‘Sister Drummond, you mean. I’ll see if she’s free. Who shall I say?’

  ‘Tell her Steve.’

  She disappeared and a few minutes later his heart gave a jump as Laura came towards him, dressed in navy blue with a wide silver buckle to her belt and a frilly white cap on her dark hair. ‘Steve! How nice to see you.’ She leant forward and kissed his cheek.

  ‘I’ve got a spot of leave, thought I’d drop by and renew the acquaintance.’

  ‘Of course. I should have been disappointed if you hadn’t. Come through and have a cup of tea with us.’ She led the way past the staircase to the east wing and into a cosy sitting room, which in the old days had been known as the morning room. If he had hoped for a quiet tête-à-tête with her, he was disappointed; Helen was sitting at a bureau intent on some paperwork. ‘Helen, look who’s here.’

  She rose to greet him. ‘Steven, it’s good to see you, but you’re looking tired.’

  He kissed her cheek. ‘Aren’t we all. I’ve been hearing a lot about the changes to the Hall and thought I’d come to see for myself.’

  She laughed. ‘And here was me thinking you had come to see us.’

  ‘That too, of course.’

  ‘Sit down. I’ll go and fetch the tea things.’

  When she had gone he turned to Laura, suddenly tongue-tied, which was so unlike him he found himself blushing. ‘How are you?’ he asked lamely.

  ‘I’m very well. And you?’

  ‘Well.’

  ‘But tired, I can see. It doesn’t get any easier, does it?’

  ‘No.’ She had meant his job, but he was thinking of how to break the ice. But ice wasn’t a fair word; she was smiling and friendly. ‘Fancy you knowing Aunt Helen; she’s really Mum’s cousin but we all call her Aunt Helen. When Mum wrote and told me you were here, I could hardly believe it.’

  ‘Nor me. I was glad because it meant I could thank you for your help the night I had Robby. I don’t know what I would have done without you.’

  ‘Think nothing of it. I wanted to find out how you got on but when I went to the hospital the next day they were decidedly unhelpful.’ He had explained that in his letter to her, but now, in his awkwardness, he could find nothing else to talk about. ‘I never thought I’d find you here.’

  ‘Helen offered me a home and a job I love, and I’m grateful for that.’

  ‘And the baby?’

  ‘Robby? He’s three months old now. I’d introduce you to him, but Stella has taken him out in his pram. By the way, Helen told everyone I was a widow. She said she wanted to save me embarrassment and stop awkward questions. Would you mind playing along with that?’

  ‘Not at all, Mrs Drummond.’ He laughed and the tension eased a little. ‘Tell me about the hospital. I gather it’s mainly for burns victims?’

  ‘Yes, there’s a very clever surgeon called Mr Archibald McIndoe doing pioneer work repairing scarred faces with a process called plastic surgery, and healing sick minds into the bargain. Some of the men have to have several operations, and they have to get over one before they can have the next. That’s where we come in. It’s a sort of home from home, where they can have constant nursing care but the freedom to come and go if they are well enough. The main reception rooms, the big hall and the rooms above have been converted into a working hospital. It’s fully equipped and staffed and I’ve been put in charge of day-to-day nursing. The RAF has provided a resident doctor, two nursing sisters and two nurses, and Helen persuaded Mr and Mrs Ward to return, so we have a handyman, a cook and three village women who do the cleaning.’

  ‘It must keep you very busy.’

/>   ‘Yes, it does. Fortunately, I have Stella to look after Robby. She’s very young and I wondered how she’d cope but she took to Robby straight away. I gather her brother is in your crew.’

  ‘Yes, he’s a good chap, we get on well.’ He paused, then plunged on. ‘Do you have any time off? I mean, would you come out with me while I’m home? The pictures perhaps, or a dance. You say which…’

  Helen came back at that point carrying a tray and he jumped up to take it from her and put it on the table. It was in turning from her to Laura that he was struck by their likeness to each other. Gran was right; you could almost mistake them for mother and daughter. ‘What do you think of our little setup?’ Helen asked him. ‘Don’t you think Laura’s doing a grand job?’

  ‘Oh, no doubt of it.’

  ‘I keep telling her to ease off a bit, but she doesn’t seem able to. It’s as if she’s being driven, though it’s certainly not me who’s doing the driving.’

  ‘So can you persuade her to come out with me? I’ve got a week’s leave.’

  ‘I don’t need persuading, Steve,’ Laura put in. ‘It’s just

  Robby—’

  ‘I’ll gladly look after Robby when Stella’s not here,’ Helen said. ‘You go, my dear, it will do you good. Take the car.’

  ‘You know I can’t drive it.’

  ‘But Steve can. Let him teach you.’

  ‘I’ll be happy to,’ he said. ‘As long as I spare a bit of time to help Dad with the harvest.’

  During the following week, they were together whenever Laura was free of her duties, and Steve suspected that Helen was doing more than her share to make it possible. They went to see Charlie Chaplin in The Great Dictator at the Attlesham Odeon, and on three afternoons he took her out to quiet country lanes and taught her to drive the Humber. ‘It’s not exactly the best car to learn in,’ he said. ‘You’d be better off in a little Ford or an Austin Seven.’ But as it was the only car available and Helen had been given a petrol allowance for it, Laura set about learning to use the clutch, change gears, make hand signals and steer in a straight line.