“I have been waiting for that day for years already, Tommy. I will be your wife – there is nothing I want more.”
He reached out a hand to her – it would have been quite outrageous to have kissed her, in public, where any passer-by might see.
She gripped his fingers, just as aware as he that they must do no more in the open air, visible to all.
“I must speak to your father, Monkey. I should have asked his permission before ever I said anything to you. But I do not think he will mind.”
“He will not object at all, Tommy. But he will ask you to keep all quiet for the while, I doubt not. He will not wish to spoil Lavinia’s day by making any announcement. She must be the centre of attention tomorrow. Wait till Friday to have your conversation – poor Lavinia, she must not be lessened in any way at her own engagement party!”
Tommy agreed thoughtfully – Lavinia was a harmless sort of girl, and it would be so easy to upset her, and so unnecessarily cruel.
“Do you think she knows, in her own mind, that is all she is – just pretty?”
“No – she does not know there is anything else to be. She has several times made it clear that she feels sorry for me, for not being as pretty as her; she offered to show me how to ‘present’ myself more attractively only last week. She feared that I should not seem so intelligent – though she said ‘bookish’, having never turned a single page in her whole life by choice. It could only put men off, she said.”
“Well! I hope you told her in no uncertain terms just why she was in error!”
She was pleased by his response – possibly she would have less to teach him than she had expected. She must, however, know more about him – she had the right now.
“Tommy? Just what is it that I am not being told about your brother? What must I not know, one presumes because I am ‘too young’?”
Tommy waved a deprecating hand; he was certainly not going to discuss adultery with her; that was strictly the content of a private discussion with her mother. The very thought of broaching such a topic horrified him.
“Old family scandal, Monkey – and like all such, half fact and the rest imagination. My father and his mother had a falling out, well before she died, and the cause – the truth of it – cannot be decided nearly thirty years after the event. I do not know what is, or is not, fact and I much suspect your parents prefer not to try to explain the business to you. They know more than I do, because I was not born when it all happened, of course, and they have never given me their opinion of the matter – and I shall not ask them to. Better forgotten, is my belief. I hope it may be my brother’s. There is small gain to pursuing such a matter through the generations.”
Very daringly, Tommy drove the Squire, his wife, George, Lavinia and Monkey to the party, having had the Lanchester properly polished for the occasion. It gained them only thirty minutes in the daylight hours, for the unmade lanes could not be driven at speed, but the headlights at night would allow them to make the same pace on their return rather than the staid walk of the horse-drawn carriages, would save not less than an hour then.
“A fraction less than thirty minutes for a journey of twelve miles, Tommy – and as comfortable as a carriage.”
Squire could be almost reconciled to the motor car, he suspected – it was a smelly sort of beast, but it did have advantages. Tommy smiled and agreed, not pointing out that horses were not exactly odour-free.
George thought it would be an excellent purchase for the family; he was quite sure that he would very soon master the art of driving at least as well as Tommy. His father decided to be tactful.
“Ah, yes, George… I am sure you would. Perhaps we could give thought to two cars, one for your personal use and another, larger and more sedate, perhaps, to be driven by one of the grooms for the older generation.”
George thought that an excellent idea, was quite unable to perceive the smiles on the faces around him.
The Squire’s party was first to arrive, as was necessary, for Lavinia must form part of the reception, joining in greeting guests at the door.
Her husband-to-be welcomed her fondly, and excitedly announced that ‘it’ had arrived. He made a rather clumsy performance of unwrapping a small parcel to disclose a jeweller’s box – Rundell and Bridge very prominent and visible to all – and then displaying a ring with a very substantial diamond which he placed upon Lavinia’s finger, to much applause. They had selected the stone together in the previous week and England’s premier jewellers had built the ring for them, as was normal practice, sending it by special courier.
Monkey made the appropriate congratulatory noises and admired the ring greatly, whispering to Tommy that it was really rather vulgar, but was certainly suitable for the happy couple.
“Very rich, Monkey.”
“Yes, indeed – the dear little man has so few qualities that he must display those he has, Tommy!”
He snorted and turned to her mother, frowning upon them.
“A very fine stone, ma’am – well beyond my touch, I am afraid.”
He made the comment just loud enough to be heard by the Monktons, who very much approved and preened themselves proudly. They owned their four thousand acres and had a substantial income besides, thought to have originated in the efforts of a great-uncle who had traded in the East and returned to England unwed somewhat before the turn of the century; money from trade was frowned upon, but only for the one generation – after that it was simply wealth.
Lavinia’s family retired into the background, glasses in hand – lemonade for Monkey, to her outrage, she did not believe she was a little girl any more! Tommy looked across, fought back a grin and said nothing – he thought it might take a far braver man, and much more tactless than him, to say anything at that moment.
“Am I mistaken in the looks I see exchanged between you and my daughter, Tommy?”
Tommy saw that Monkey’s mother was smiling, shook his head.
“Not at all, ma’am. It is my intention to speak to Squire tomorrow – but not before Lavinia’s big day, we thought, ma’am.”
“Well done, the pair of you! That was considerate and kindly of you. Poor Lavinia must make the most of the little she has – even if she is not aware of the fact. Hush now! There is a carriage drawing up, and I believe I hear a motor in the distance.”
Half an hour of arrivals, shaking hands and bowing, most of the guests known to Tommy but including two families of cousins of Lavinia’s fiancé, come from just a few miles across the Surrey border and to stay overnight, returning in daylight.
Then Mr Stark arrived, stepping down from the travelling carriage that had sat four years unused in the stables at the Lodge and driven by the old groom.
Joseph Stark was shorter, heavier, darker than Tommy, showed in fact no trace of physical resemblance, brown-eyed to Tommy’s blue. In itself that meant little – brothers could easily take after one parent rather than another, the more so if the grandparents were one fair, the other side dark. He shook hands with Squire and his lady, acknowledged Monkey and cut Tommy, not noticing his existence. Tommy gave a distant half-bow and stepped back, shrugging.
“That was very ill-done of him, Tommy!”
“Also very silly, Monkey. All of the gossips will have noticed and they will talk of little else all evening. Every old rumour will be circulating within a week – so foolish! It cannot affect me, for his mother’s death occurred several years before I was born – so any talk will be about him.”
Every scandal-sniffing dame was coming to the same conclusion – Mr Joseph Stark’s mother had died some twenty-six years before, and Lieutenant Thomas Stark could be at most twenty-one or -two, or possibly a little younger even. If there was a skeleton to be found, then it must be searched for in Mr Joseph Stark’s cupboards.
The two men were sat on opposite sides of the vast dinner table and could not be expected to speak to each other there; after the meal itself they stayed well separated as the port circulated. Tommy, be
ing one of the younger men, remained mostly silent – there were distinguished figures of the County present, all of whom, by their nature, had much to say.
There had been a within reason fine spring, and the crops were well-advanced, and this was far the most significant single topic of conversation, the Land being the whole basis of County life. The Irish question was barely raised, it being possible that those present might not all be of the same persuasion and this being no occasion for political argument. The threat of war, it would seem, did not exist; it was not discussed. There was mention of some cricket match which was, Tommy understood, rather important – but he had watched part of a cricket match once and would never repeat that appalling mistake – he could imagine little more tedious; then they talked of something called Wimbledon. After nearly an hour there was a mention of aviation, one of them being hurriedly hushed when he complained that some damned flying machine had spilt burning petrol in a wheat field just before Christmas, had quite ruined the soil!
“What? Dead? Who? Oh! Damned fool had no business building such machines – who needs them?”
The mutters subsided as the speaker finally came to understand that both sons of the dead man were present; he was most amazed, had not imagined that a gentleman would have anything to do with such a pursuit.
The elder Monkton caught Tommy’s eye, mouthed an apology. Tommy shook his head – he was not offended. Mr Joseph Stark gave the impression of a man who was about to burst into intemperate speech, and Monkton decided it was time they joined the ladies.
Tommy naturally wandered across to Monkey’s side, and fixed himself there quite contentedly. They circulated together, unaware that they were providing a topic of conversation, so obviously happy in each other’s company. Her mother simply nodded and smiled when eyebrows were raised questioningly.
“His father was quite my husband’s oldest friend, you know, ma’am. We are so pleased to see them together in such a way. Of course, both are young yet, and dear Tommy is still a lieutenant, but he is one of the leading fliers in the country, one understands, has the potentiality to become a distinguished man. I believe he may hope for early promotion, and little Grace is quite grown up now and has every wish to become his wife. It will do neither any harm to wait for three or four years, of course.”
The dinner party broke up before midnight and those guests who were to go home commented how pleased they were that it was a cloud-free night and the moon would show them the way home. Tommy lit the acetylene headlamps and started his engine and turned out of the driveway in the opposite direction to that he had come.
“Mr Monkton told me that the highway from Winchester to Farnborough, the old coaching road, is just three miles from here, sir. It is not so direct a way, perhaps as much as five miles longer than the lanes, but it is a wider road and easier to drive at night. As well, sir, there will be no carriages returning upon it, not the slightest possibility of an upset.”
He did not say that Mr Joseph Stark would be driving the lanes – he saw no need to emphasize the fact.
“Well thought, Tommy. These lights of yours are remarkably bright, you know – they show the road almost as well as daylight. Are they longer-lasting than carriage-lamps as well?”
“No, sir, less so. My father fitted these because the electric bulbs burn out so frequently while one may rely on the acetylene lights, but they do require a refill after two hours of use, sir, the powder running out of the ability to generate gas in that time. We shall be back within one hour, with good luck and no punctures.”
“That is a glass lens to the front of them, is it not, Tommy?”
“Yes, sir. I believe my father pinched the design from one of the American manufacturers! He was a mining man, of course, and familiar with their acetylene lights.”
“Well, what they do not know about will not break their hearts, I believe.”
Monday brought Tommy to the airfield at South Farnborough, close enough to the civilian flying centre at Brooklands to cause worry to the more thoughtful; fifteen miles was not so great a distance in the air. He searched the buildings carefully and eventually discovered the offices of Six Squadron and located the adjutant, a limping gentleman of thirty or so, wearing wings but obviously no longer fit to fly.
“Lieutenant Stark, sir, reporting for duty.”
“Jolly good show, old boy. We were told to expect you; the squadron commander gave the word this morning. I have all your details from the School, so that is straightforward – the sergeant will allocate you all you need. Sergeant Taylor!”
The sergeant was ancient, to Tommy’s eyes, well into his forties but still active and alert.
“Sergeant Taylor, sir, running the administration, you might say, sir.”
Tommy noticed that the adjutant had disappeared, presumably to an inner office.
“Mr Gartside will have gone to sit down, sir. The leg is a bit sore still. He had a problem with one of the Bleriots, sir; lucky to keep his leg at all.”
Tommy nodded – that could be any flier, any day.
“I shall deal with messing, sir, fees and such and will allocate your room, sir. The Mess Sergeant will speak to you about our routines, sir, for meals and that. Only a few officers here yet, sir. Not many machines, either, sir, them being in short supply, the useful sort that is. CO is off the field at the moment, having to attend a meeting in London, sir. Best thing will be to settle in, sir, and meet the other officers.”
“Very good, Sergeant Taylor. Shall we deal with mess fees first? You might want a little extra in hand as well, to deal with contingencies, shall we say?”
The fees amounted to one shilling a week less than Tommy’s Army pay; the addition of flying pay, which effectively doubled the subaltern’s salary to a little more than a pound a day, left him comfortable on his official income. He could put his private money to other uses, he supposed, though he was not entirely sure what; no matter, it was only money, the bank manager would keep it for him. He wrote a cheque for the quarter’s fees and then added five gold sovereigns to cover the ‘extras’. The coins would be split between the two sergeants, he knew, but as a result he would have a warm room and would be allocated a good servant with instructions to do his best for him. They were short of officers so he would probably have a man to himself, rather than having to share his services.
“Is that your motor car, sir?”
“It is, Sergeant Taylor. My father left it to me at the end of last year.”
“Ah! That Mr Stark, sir?”
“Just so, Sergeant Taylor.”
“Right, sir. We must organise accommodation for your vehicle, sir, rather than leave it out in the rain and shine. Leave it to me, sir!”
Tommy did; he was quite sure that he would be leaving a great deal to Sergeant Taylor – but that was what sergeants were for. Officers gave orders and sergeants translated them into reality, in theory; commonly, sergeants did what was necessary and then discreetly informed the officers of the orders that would cover their actions. When it came to officers’ comforts, then the sergeants did all that they thought desirable, depending on the officer, and looked after themselves as well, to the benefit of all parties. Occasionally there were officers who refused to fit into the system; some of them survived.
The Mess Sergeant showed Tommy into his domain and put a cup of coffee before him without enquiring of his preferences. That meant, Tommy realised, that he had telephoned his equivalent at the School at Upavon to discover his habits in advance and he would know that Tommy was well-off and open-handed. It was one of the advantages of being part of a very small Corps where almost all of the senior non-commissioned officers knew each other.
Half an hour passed, Tommy in isolation in the Mess, and he was informed that his quarters were ready. That meant that his uniforms were unpacked and his servant would have laid out appropriate dress for the rest of the morning. It saved having to make enquiries.
“Morning, sir! Smivvels, sir.”
He
spelled it out, obligingly, aware that the name was uncommon. Tommy wondered whether it had been Smithers originally, passed down from one generation of adenoidal illiterates to the next.
“Working dress, sir. Mess dress for dinner, sir, but never full dress, except when there’s a general comin’, and that ain’t ‘appened yet, bein’ as we’re uncommon short of generals in the Corps, sir. Normally goes into dinner when you fancies, sir, rather than all sittin’ down together, but not on Tuesday when you all gets together and the Major’s there as well as the adjutant so the squadron’s all in the one place.”
“Not very formal, then, Smivvels?”
“Not at all, sir.” Smivvels spotted the outstretched hand and palmed the coin, unseen by any watcher, not that there was one. He could feel it was a sovereign, the better part of a week’s pay at his rank. Just the right sort of gentleman, it seemed – Smivvels would do his best to ensure that his officer never requested a change of servant.
“Bit of a smell of castor oil on the flying coat, sir. Been flying one of them nasty rotaries, ‘ave you, sir? I’ll deal with that sir, and keep the leather up, too. Don’t ‘ave that sort of problem ‘ere, sir. BEs and REs, sir, that’s what we got. You’ll want to ‘ave a look at the hangars, sir, this morning. None of the other officers up yet, sir, being as we ain’t flyin’ today. Don’t normally fly on a Monday, sir, because of the officers not getting’ in from Town till late on a Sunday night, sir.”
The Corps had been described in Tommy’s hearing as a military club for the idle rich; perhaps there was an amount of truth to the comment.
“Only a few pilots here, I have been told, Smivvels?”
“Six, sir, with you. Nine of the sergeants, sir, is observers, so we got a lot of sergeants, sir, because any bloke what trains up as an observer gets made up to sergeant, sir. They gets flying pay, sir, on top, sir, so a bloke can go up to ten bob a day in six months, sir. Good money, sir, three pound ten a week when a skilled man’s lucky to see two quid and most ordinary blokes gets one if they’re lucky! Lots of the lads wants to be observers, sir, but you got to read and write easy, sir, and do counting and things as well!”
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