Summer House

by Nichols, Mary

  ‘Thank you, ma’am, I’ll take you up on that.’

  He shook hands with her and Laura and left with Joyce.

  ‘Helen, you look very pale, is that cut deep?’ Laura asked when they had gone.

  ‘No. I’m not very good when I see blood, more so when it’s my own. Silly, isn’t it?’

  ‘Do you want to go and lie down?’

  ‘No.’ She stood up. ‘I think I’ll go for a little walk. Can you manage for a few minutes, Mrs Ward?’

  Mrs Ward, who had listened and absorbed every word, told her that of course she could and to run along and get some fresh air. Helen put on a jacket and slipped out of the back door before anyone could ask her where she was going. Laura guessed. She had seen Helen down by the lake beside the newly built summer house looking meditatively across the water on several occasions and concluded that the place had some significance. She would give her a few minutes alone, then go and coax her home.

  ‘She remembers him all right.’ Mrs Ward’s voice broke in on her thoughts.

  ‘Who, Mrs Ward?’

  ‘Captain Donovan, of course.’

  ‘Wayne?’

  ‘No, his father. They were close at one time, though she were married and shouldn’t hev bin looking at another man. Any old how, narth’n come of it. He went off to France and she went to stay with her aunt. Him and Valerie married at the end of the war.’

  ‘Then there’s no need to speak of it, is there?’ Laura said.

  ‘Weren’t no secret at the time,’ the cook said resentfully.

  ‘All the same, I think we should respect Lady Helen’s privacy and not resurrect whatever it was.’ She spoke severely but she would have been less than human if she hadn’t been curious.

  Chapter Eight

  ‘SHE IS A stunner, isn’t she?’ Wayne commented.

  ‘Who?’ Joyce queried.

  ‘Mrs Drummond. She’s young to be in charge of a hospital, isn’t she?’

  ‘I suppose so, but what with the war and everything and it being an air force hospital, I suppose it’s not so strange. Lady Helen no doubt pulled strings. Money still talks, you know.’

  ‘They’re mother and daughter, aren’t they?’

  ‘No, what gave you that idea?’

  ‘They look so alike, and Sister Drummond seems to be looking out for her.’

  ‘They’re not related that I know of. Laura’s mother died last year. According to Kathy, she was an old friend of Lady Helen’s.’

  ‘My mistake. Who is Kathy?’

  ‘She’s Jenny’s Mum. We’ll go there next. Unless you’ve had enough of Beckbridge and its inhabitants?’

  ‘No, lead on. Miss Wainright is half expecting me.’

  She took him round to the back door, that being the way she always went herself. Jenny dragged them both into the kitchen where Kathy was basting a small joint and Alice was laying the table for Sunday lunch. William, in his Windsor chair by the hearth, was hidden behind a copy of the Eastern Daily Press. The headlines told of the Luftwaffe’s attack on Norwich two nights before, when the city had been bombed and machine-gunned for over an hour and a whole terrace of houses had been destroyed. Revenge attacks for the bombing of German cities, so it was said. It made him think of Steve and though he said nothing to Kathy, he prayed fervently for his safety. The fall of Singapore in February had been a national disaster, but it was especially poignant for local people because the Royal Norfolks had been out there and many of their sons and husbands had been taken prisoner. He knew some of them, had seen their families struggling to come to terms with the prospect of not seeing loved ones again for years. Shipping was still going down at an alarming rate and the siege of Stalingrad continued, but with the spring thaw, that was likely to change. Rationing was being tightened and now included coal, gas and electricity and all kinds of soap. Even those things not rationed had been put on a points system, leaving few things unrestricted, and they were in such short supply long queues formed within minutes of a shop receiving stocks: the arrival of tomatoes, onions, sausages and offal had housewives standing in line for hours.

  Black marketeering was reaching epidemic proportions and to deal with it the maximum penalty had been increased to fourteen years’ penal servitude. William wondered what Ian Moreton made of that. The man was so greedy he’d expect to get away with it for ever. Conscription had been extended to men up to the age of forty-five and women were being called up too. He was too old and in any case farming was a reserved occupation, but it meant more men would soon disappear and he would be left scratching his head how to get the harvest in.

  ‘We’re not stopping,’ Joyce said. ‘We’ve just been up to the Hall and thought we’d call in on the way home.

  Kathy looked up from her work to greet the newcomer. ‘Mum, this is Captain Wayne Donovan,’ Jenny said.

  ‘How do you do, Captain.’ Kathy wiped her hands and shook hands with him. He was not like Oliver to look at, which came as a relief. His bright hair was characteristic of the Wilson side of the family.

  William put the paper down and stood up to shake Wayne’s hand. ‘Like a beer, Captain?’

  ‘Thanks. But I’m Wayne.’

  William went to the pantry where he kept a few bottles of home-brewed beer on the cold stone floor and brought one back. ‘You been here long?’ he asked, pouring the amber liquid into two glasses and handing one to the visitor. Joyce, on being asked, declined.

  ‘Came to England a few months back,’ Wayne answered his question. ‘This is the first chance I’ve had to visit Beckbridge.’

  ‘What do you think of it?’

  He took a mouthful of beer and nearly choked, it was so strong. ‘It’s just like Mom described it, but I wasn’t prepared for how small it is, except the Hall. That’s some big house.’

  ‘Yes. Of course, it’s nothing like it was.’

  ‘It used to be grand in the old days,’ Alice said. ‘Henry was the Squire, the whole village belonged to him and everyone looked up to him. His wife, Louise, was my sister, you know.’

  ‘Is that so?’

  ‘Yes. Did you meet Helen and Laura?’ Alice was determined to wrest the last ounce of information from him.

  ‘Certainly did. I thought they were mother and daughter, but Joyce says they’re not related.’

  ‘You’re not the first to make that mistake,’ Alice said.

  ‘We’d better be going,’ Joyce put in. ‘Don’t want to keep you from your dinner. Wayne is staying the whole week, so I expect you’ll be seeing him again.’

  Wayne shook hands with everyone and they took their leave, leaving a strange uncomfortable silence behind them.

  ‘Helen, it’s too chilly to sit out here and lunch is ready.’

  ‘Yes, I was just coming back.’

  ‘Do you feel better now?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ It was asked sharply, confirming Laura’s idea that there had been something wrong.

  ‘You felt faint. The sight of blood, you said, though I was surprised at that. You’ve helped me with dressings more than once when we’ve been short-handed.’

  ‘That wasn’t my blood.’

  ‘No. So, do you feel better?’

  ‘Yes. I’m stupid, I know.’

  ‘Whatever you are, you are certainly not stupid, Helen. Nor am I, so are you going to tell me what’s wrong?’

  ‘Nothing’s wrong.’ She stood up to prove it. ‘Come on, let’s go back.’

  Laura walked beside her. ‘He’s going to come back, you know.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Captain Donovan.’

  ‘So? I invited him to.’

  ‘Yes, but why? You didn’t need to and I could see his visit upset you.’

  ‘Don’t be silly. I never met the man before today.’

  ‘No, but you did meet his father.’

  ‘Yes. He was one of many who came to the house when my father was alive.’

  ‘Would I be wrong in thinking he was special?’


  Helen hesitated. ‘No, you wouldn’t be wrong, but it was a long time ago. Water under the bridge. I didn’t know he’d survived the war, nor that he’d married the chambermaid, that’s all. Let’s drop the subject, shall we?’

  ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.’

  Laura’s hurt expression filled Helen with remorse. If only she could tell her the truth. But she could not, she was too afraid. The last year had been the happiest of her whole life and she dare not risk endangering that. ‘No, I’m the one who should be sorry. You look after me so well and I do not deserve it.’

  ‘Nonsense. It’s you who has been good to me and I bless the day Mum met you again. Now cheer up and come back for lunch. Afterwards, I’ve got to see that Flying Officer Grant is ready for his trip to East Grinstead tomorrow.’

  It was at East Grinstead where Mr McIndoe did his skin grafting operations, and the Flying Officer, who had already had operations on his eyes, was going to have work done on his nose. It should mean he’d look a little less ghoulish. His young wife, though she had been warned, had been horribly sick when she saw him just after the first operation. But mention of the young man served to make Helen pull herself together. She would show Oliver’s son round the house and garden and she would chat as if his father had been no more than a passing acquaintance, and she would smile while she did it. None of it was his fault, any more than it was Laura’s. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Back to work.’

  ‘I’m off to the pub,’ Ian said. ‘You coming, Wayne?’

  ‘Yes, if Aunt Joyce doesn’t mind?’

  ‘No, course not.’

  He fetched his cap and the two men strolled down the rutted lane and turned into the High Street. ‘I’ve got a bit of business to transact,’ Ian told him. ‘So if I disappear for a while, you’ll be all right on your own?’

  ‘Yes. Is there anything I can do to help?’

  Ian laughed. ‘You can say I never left your side, if you’re asked.’

  ‘Might I be asked?’

  ‘Shouldn’t think so. Just in case.’

  ‘What’s it all about?’

  Ian tapped the side of his nose. ‘I do a bit of trading, things that are hard to come by, know what I mean?’

  ‘Yes, I think I do. Isn’t it a bit risky?’

  ‘Not really. People i’n’t about to cut off their source of supply by shopping me. War makes criminals of us all, bor.’

  ‘I see. Where do you get your supplies?’

  ‘Oh, here and there, mostly up at the airfield. The Yanks have taken it over and they’ve got plenty. Seems to me they ought to be sharing it around a bit, so I buy and sell and everyone’s happy. You got anything surplus to requirements up your way?’

  ‘Can’t help you, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Don’ mek no matter. Better not involve you anyhows. Joyce’ll have me guts for garters.’

  They wandered into the bar to find several elderly locals who could be found there every evening, making a pint last two hours, and a group of airmen from the Hall, enjoying a drink and playing a noisy game of shove ha’penny. One of them looked up as they entered. ‘Hallo again,’ he said. His eyes, in a pinkly scarred face, were lashless slits and the tip of his nose was missing.

  ‘Hallo.’ Wayne recognised one of the men he had spoken to that morning. ‘They’ve let you out, I see.’

  ‘Shhh. I’m supposed to be resting for my trip tomorrow. Going to give me a new nose.’

  ‘Can I buy you a beer?’

  ‘Thanks. I’m Colin by the way. This is Charlie and this is Bertie.’

  They both said hallo and he asked them what they wanted to drink and then turned to include Ian, but he had disappeared. He shrugged and joined the airmen.

  ‘Enjoying your leave?’ Charlie asked. One side of his face was a ribbed pink scar, the other showed the handsome young man he had once been. His hands were like claws, but he had somehow mastered the art of picking up a glass with both hands.

  ‘Yes. My mom came from this village. She met my pop at Beckbridge Hall in the last war, so I wanted to look round the place.’

  ‘It’s changed a bit, though I can imagine what it was like in the old days. Lady Barstairs is a bit of an autocrat, but she’s OK. What we must be doing to her lovely home must make her want to weep, but she never turns a hair.’

  ‘And Mrs Drummond?’

  ‘She’s a marvel,’ Colin said. ‘If it hadn’t been for her I’d have thrown in the towel long ago.’

  ‘Nothing’s too much trouble,’ Charlie said. He had a pair of crutches propped against his seat. ‘Another beer?’ He went to pick up one of the crutches and made to stand up.

  ‘No, please, I’ll get them,’ Wayne said, putting a hand on the young man’s shoulder.

  ‘Let the lazy bugger get them in,’ Colin said. ‘He sits around and expects everyone to wait on him.’

  ‘That I do not. Who was it that brought your tea to you this morning?’

  ‘And spilt most of it in the saucer.’

  ‘Do you want another drink or not?’

  ‘Yes, I’ll have a beer.’ He grinned and winked at Wayne as Charlie manoeuvred himself onto his crutches and hopped across to the bar. ‘I’ll go and help him bring them back, don’t worry.’

  ‘Tell us about yourself,’ Charlie said, when they were all sitting with brimming glasses in front of them. ‘What unit are you in? What d’you do before the war? That sort of thing.’

  ‘I’m a motor engineer. My father owns garages and motor workshops and I worked for him until I joined the Engineers last year. I got shipped over here a few months ago. Been kicking my heels ever since.’

  ‘Won’t last,’ Bertie said. ‘They’ll find something for you to do.’

  ‘There were Canadians with the BEF in France,’ Charlie said.

  ‘Yes, I know. I would have come at the outbreak of war, but Mom was against it. I had to get Pop to persuade her.’

  ‘He didn’t mind you coming then?’

  ‘He was in the last lot. Fought in France and caught a bullet in his thigh. They shipped him back to England and he recovered. It was after that he met with Mom and they got married. He’s a real patriot, wouldn’t surprise me if he didn’t find some way of getting over here himself.’

  They went on to exchange gossip and information, and because Joe Easter had only that morning taken delivery of two barrels of beer and he couldn’t refuse ‘those poor devils’, as he described them, they went on topping up their glasses all evening. By the time Joe called ‘Time, gentlemen!’, Ian had not come back and they were all very merry. And that was how Laura found them.

  ‘Shame on you, gentlemen,’ she said. ‘Lieutenant Grant, you’ve a long journey tomorrow, you were going to have an early night as I recall. And you, Captain.’ She rounded on Wayne. ‘You should not have encouraged them. They are supposed to be recuperating.’

  ‘Best way to recuperate,’ Charlie put in, picking up his crutches. ‘Convivial company and a pint of ale.’

  ‘You’ve all had more than a pint. It’s a good thing I guessed where you were and brought the car.’ Her words were severe but she could not conceal the fact that she was smiling. Charlie was right; it did help their recovery to be accepted and treated like normal human beings, which of course they were. ‘Now get in the car, there’s good chaps. You too, Captain Donovan. I’ll drop you off at the end of Beck Lane.’

  He was fitter and stronger than they were; the beer had had less effect and the arrival of Laura had sobered him almost completely. He followed as she shepherded them to the big car. ‘I’m supposed to be out with Ian,’ he said. ‘He disappeared early on. Do you think I should go home without him?’

  She laughed. ‘That’s par for the course. He’ll trip over his own shoelaces one day. He can find his own way home. Come on. I want to talk to you, anyway.’

  ‘Oh ho!’ Colin said. ‘Either you’re for a wigging or you’ve struck lucky. Which is it, Sister?’

  She did not answer, but indicated Wa
yne should get in the passenger seat beside her while the others crowded in the back; it was plenty wide enough for three and they sat with Charlie’s crutches across their knees.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Wayne said, as they set off, afraid he had blotted his copybook. She had something special about her: a way, a look, a smile; whatever it was, he wanted to probe it further. ‘But they’re grown men and if their supervision is so lax they can escape and spend an evening in a bar, it’s not down to me, is it?’

  ‘No, of course not. I spoke hastily. Forgive me.’

  ‘Nothing to forgive. Was that what you wanted to talk to me about?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter. Just a silly idea I had.’ She had started out with the intention of suggesting he should not return to the Hall, but how could she do that without explaining and betraying Helen’s confidence, making a mountain out of a molehill?

  ‘What idea?’

  ‘Nothing. Forget it.’

  She would not be drawn and the three in the back began singing lustily enough to drown out any attempt at normal conversation. When they arrived at the Hall she stopped outside the front door. ‘Home gentlemen,’ she said. ‘I trust you can put yourselves to bed.’

  They answered her cheekily as they tumbled out. She waited until they had disappeared inside, then drove round the sweeping circle of the drive and back out of the gates. ‘I can walk from here,’ Wayne said, though it was said half-heartedly. He was not anxious to leave her.

  She did not take the car down Beck Lane but stopped at the top. He made no move to get out. ‘Now, tell me about your silly idea,’ he said.

  ‘It was something and nothing.’ She paused before continuing. ‘Your sudden arrival was a bit of a surprise to everyone.’