by Alan Tansley
He made a note of certain items, mainly toiletries, and sometimes stood in awe as certain items seemed far-fetched. ‘A water closet, indeed—I wonder who dreamt up that name,’ he thought, smiling, as he carried on.
Chapter 23
Timothy and Penelope fell very much in love, and it showed so clearly that the Major would amble around the house with a permanent smile on his face at having achieved his objective. Dorothy was no longer welcome at the house, but she had no need to return; she had made sure that all her possessions had been removed before she took the plunge and moved in with another man eight years her junior.
Two days later, the Major visited a lawyer friend who had heard the news. He was fully expecting him to legally eradicate his wife out of his life forever, right there and then, and then change his will to benefit Penelope and Timothy. However, when the Major found out that it would take three months to get his divorce through court, he banged the table with his fist and stared defiantly at him.
‘It is the law, Major. Besides, wouldn’t it be better to wait until this Timothy Cotton-Walters marries Penelope—you never know, he might be a scoundrel.’
Leaning over his desk, the Major shouted, ‘How dare you make insinuations like that? I have been to war with this young man. My life has been in his hands for hundreds of perilous and highly dangerous days. What more proof do you need? For God’s sake, it’s usually me that wheedles the shithouses out of my life, and here you are trying to do it for me. Get his name down now this instant, my lad, before I slap a charge on you.’
‘Very well, Major, if you insist,’ said the lawyer, and forced himself to refrain from smiling as he began to write.
At the Major’s house, Penelope was in her room, lying on her bed with Timothy at her side. When he began to explain that soon he would have to travel home to visit his parents, she leaned on him and stared into his eyes. ‘That’s no problem,’ she said, ‘just let me know when we are setting off.’
Taken aback, he gasped, ‘Oh, I wouldn’t have thought you would like to travel all that way with me.’
‘Of course I would. I would love to meet your parents.’ But she didn’t understand when he began to stutter a reply. ‘What’s the matter, Timothy?’ she asked.
‘Sorry, it’s just that there will be a rift in the family because of my youngest brother. He was unfortunately killed while under my command.’
‘Oh hell, Tim, I can see the complications there, because it’s something that has always hindered dad. I know he never shows it, but he does have a conscience. Never mind, I am here now to back you up, sweetheart. Just say when and we’ll set off.’
‘Very well,’ he replied, and pulled her to him. Passion soon took over, even though it was preying on Timothy’s mind that Penelope could get pregnant. He thought about this problem even while they were making love, and then dismissed it as his mind struggled to find a way to get out of taking her home. He couldn’t think of a solution.
He never managed to solve that particular problem, and two days later they sat on a train travelling north. Penelope was dressed as if going shopping in the city, and Timothy was in full uniform, carrying her small overnight-bag. They sat with arms linked, chatting about their families. Two hours later, they were preparing to make a connection in Sheffield then continue on their journey, hoping very much that there would be transport from the village to take them to the farm.
So far, transport-wise, everything had gone smoothly, but when they alighted from the train near the church, Timothy saw that everything was quiet and peaceful, and sighed, knowing that they would have to walk the rest of the way.
They strolled arm-in-arm along the lanes, in no hurry to arrive. Timothy pointed out the various crops and animals, wild or domestic. He felt rather proud that Penelope, although she was dressed for the town and not the countryside, never complained once. He was feeling very nervous because of the potential complications involved in informing his family about Henry. If they didn’t accept his explanation and kicked him and Penelope out, he knew there was nowhere local they could stay.
Knowing the passenger train back to Sheffield wasn’t until the following morning, Penelope interrupted Timothy’s thoughts, saying, ‘May we stop for a while, sweetheart?’
‘Of course, and please forgive me, have I been walking too fast?’
‘Not at all, I just want to take all this in; I’ve never seen such beautiful scenery. I once visited an elderly aunt in Shropshire, and this has brought back such wonderful memories,’ replied Penelope, and leaning on a large wooden farm gate began to scan the area. In the distance, Timothy could see his home and wondered what sort of reception they would get. He admired Penelope as she browsed the horizon, then smiled and slipped his hands around her waist, desperately hoping that his parents would respect his status and believe his story.
After a while, they continued their walk. Joseph was using his portable steam engine to saw timber in the fold yard as they approached the driveway to the farmhouse. He suddenly looked up, and his jaw dropped. Composing himself, he shouted, ‘Mahala!’
A minute later, she appeared at the door, wiping her hands on a small rag. Turning to stare in the direction Joseph was looking in, she gasped, ‘Oh my good God.’ Running up the lane, she grabbed hold of Timothy and hugged him. After kissing his cheek, she suddenly held him at arm’s length, looked him over, and then turned to Penelope and said, ‘Please forgive me, but I never thought this day would come.’
‘I understand, and I’m Penelope Templeton-Smythe,’ she replied. Smiling daintily, she held out her hand.
‘Oh, I’m so pleased to meet you, I’m Mahala, and my husband over there is Joseph,’ and nodded towards him as she took Penelope’s hand.
Joseph switched the machine off and ensured the belts were made safe before he rose to greet Timothy. Once it was all stable, he walked over to them, and holding his hand out towards him. ‘Hello son,’ he said, with a big smile on his face.
‘Hello dad,’ said Timothy clasping his father’s hand, and knowing he had to ease a potential argument added, ‘This is my future fiancée, Penelope.’
‘You never said that to me,’ gasped Mahala.
‘You never gave me the chance to. Shall we go into the house first?’
‘Oh, please excuse me. This way,’ said Mahala, and led the way.
As they entered the living room, Penelope glanced around saying, ‘This is exactly like my aunt’s house. Oh. It’s so gorgeous.’
George, Florence, and Georgina were at Mrs Webster’s house for the day, which was lucky, considering what was about to happen—all hell would have broken loose. When Penelope sat at the table, Timothy stood behind her, and said to his parents, ‘Please, will you both sit down?’
Instantly, Mahala stared at him, and tears welled up in her eyes, as if knowing Henry was dead. Slowly sitting down, she took a rag out of her skirt pocket and held it to her chest. Joseph had also guessed at the severity of the news implied by their presence. Staring at Timothy, he snapped, ‘Don’t mess us about, lad, and we want to know it all.’
Timothy stared down at the table as he informed his parents of Henry’s war record. Unfortunately, he did not know everything, and Penelope stared in shock, thinking how brave Timothy was to be so truthful. Anger began to well up in Joseph, who suddenly snapped, ‘So if you know all this, you must have been there?’
‘Unfortunately, and to my regret, I had been put in charge of the firing squad.’
‘So why didn’t you stop it?’ gasped Mahala, wiping her eyes.
‘More to the point, why did you ever let it happen? Was this another feather in your cap, and would it be a white one like your brother’s?’ sneered Joseph, glaring at him. He suddenly turned when Mahala stood up and dashed into their bedroom.
‘Dad, the army makes the rules, not me. If I had not carried out their instructions, the same would have happened to me.’
Joseph stood up straight, and stared into Timothy’s eyes, shak
ing with temper. ‘You have entered this house with only one thing on your mind,’ he growled, ‘trying to get out of the death of your brother. You have never even enquired about the health of your mum or me, indeed even about George, who is in the village with his fiancée and daughter. One thing I do know about Henry is that for all his frailties, he was not a coward. I have nothing against you, Penelope, but I must say this. Timothy, I wish you well in the future, but get out of this house now and never return.’
Penelope couldn’t grasp the severity of their argument, and seemed frightened by it. Glancing up at Timothy, she slowly stood up, clutching her bag. Timothy looked at her, took hold of her hand, and then they both turned and, without speaking a word, continued out of the house.
With her arm in Timothy’s while they continued up the lane, Penelope was shocked both by the way Timothy’s parents had reacted to him, and at the full story she had heard for the first time. Timothy could only think about where they were going to spend the night while waiting for a train to Sheffield.
‘Is there a tavern nearby?’ asked Penelope
‘Oh yes. But it’s a long walk,’ he was replying, when they heard a whistle in the distance. ‘Oh, come on, old girl, that sounds like a train,’ he yelled, and nearly pulled her off her feet.
It was indeed a train, and they both waved frantically as they reached the side of the tracks. The driver courteously stopped when he saw them, and told them that the train was only going to Doncaster, but they could sit with the guard at the rear. Timothy remembered his training days at Pontefract and knew it wasn’t far away, and also that the town did have hotels. He said it would be perfect, and paid the guard for their journey.
Back at the farm, all hell had broken loose when Mahala, in her anger, began to take the death of Henry out on Joseph. ‘How the hell have I caused it?’ he shouted, trying to make her see sense.
Mahala flopped down on a chair, and leaning on the table, sobbed out loud. Joseph went to her and slipped his arm around her shoulders. After wiping her eyes, she sighed, then said, ‘If I ever set sight on that bloody Sergeant again, I’ll gouge his eyes out.’
That evening, George and Florence returned without Georgina; she was to stay with Mrs Webster for a few days. George observed his parents’ mood as they asked him and Florence to sit at the table.
Joseph explained what had happened to Henry.
Florence sobbed out loud then dashed to Mahala, hugging her tightly. George sat as if turned to stone. Joseph glared at him, asking, ‘Do you think that’s what really happened?’
‘I do know this, dad, that disobeying an order, especially when a call to arms has been shouted, is very serious. But what I can’t understand is why our Henry would do that—he was always enthusiastic and brave. Sorry, dad, Henry wasn’t a coward—he must have been ill, something’s gone wrong somewhere.’
‘Aye, that’s what I thought, and I’m going to get to the bottom of this, lad. Trouble is, the army is so very far away, but I will do it somehow, just to erase his disgrace.’
Timothy and Penelope eventually reached Doncaster in the late evening, and stayed in a hotel near the recently constructed railway station. They made enquiries before they left the station, and found out that the next train home was at eleven the following morning. One thing Timothy never thought about was money, and he was surprised to still have some left, having paid for their travels, their hotel room and their dinners out of his allowance.
Later that evening, they bathed, as it was a warm night, and then lay on top of their bed. Penelope snuggled into Timothy, lying on his arm and staring into his eyes while listening to the sounds of the town though the slightly open window. When passion arose between them, there was no holding back from either of them; the love between them was so clear that nothing could ever separate them.
On the following morning, Penelope leaned on Tim as they sat in a carriage. She asked if he would ever dare to visit home again, but when Timothy replied through tired eyes, ‘Only if asked,’ she understood his hurt when he had previously stated he was from a devout Christian, loving, and loyal family.
When Timothy remained quiet for the next hour, Penelope decided to make conversation. She sat up and, gazing out of the window, asked, ‘Are we nearly there, darling?’
‘I reckon in about another hour or so, as this train seems to have a fair speed.’
‘Oh, well, I think I’ll have a nap then,’ she replied, giving up and laying her head on his shoulder.
During the remaining days of his leave, Timothy and Penelope saw more of the city than they did of her father. However, on the day before they were due to travel back to the dockyard, Timothy received a wire informing him that he had been promoted again, to Captain. This also meant an increase in pay, and he would now receive a pension. That night, while they had dinner, Timothy proposed to Penelope.
With a shriek of delight, she accepted, then turned to her father to ask his permission. The Major’s health was now deteriorating very fast and he just guffawed, ‘Of course my dear.’ Turning to Timothy, he said, ‘I’m sorry to say this, lad, but I won’t be returning to the front with you. I’ve notified my superiors, and because I can’t walk ten yards without a rest, they have accepted my resignation.’
Timothy frowned and said, ‘I didn’t know it was that serious.’
‘Well it is, lad, so just carry on as you are and go after your next promotion. That will get you an even bigger pension.’
Timothy slumped back in his chair, then considered his position now that his mentor wouldn’t be with him anymore. In the back of his mind, he thought that if Penelope was pregnant, they could be in serious trouble, so he wanted to marry her as soon as possible. Plucking up the courage, he sat up straight, asking, ‘Major, on my next leave, could Penelope and I marry?’
‘You can get married tomorrow for me, son,’ he replied and heartily laughed.
Chapter 24
George and Florence were married in a simple ceremony; their daughter, carried by Mahala, was the only bridesmaid. Afterwards, they remained living at the farm. Both had jobs to do, and Georgina now crawling all over the place made it difficult for Florence, but she stuck to her guns, feeding the animals before doing the washing for everyone.
Government representatives still called, and Joseph continued to quiz them about the war. He scanned the newspapers but was always disappointed when there was nothing mentioned about Henry.
The cottage for Florence and George had begun, and everyone mucked in, sawing, chopping, mixing cement, or trimming stone. In the late summer, they had a completed stone pan-tiled roof, which would make their home watertight. They grinned at their endeavours with their arms around each other
The house was almost ready for habitation, so it was now all hands working in the fields. Joseph was not only delighted at the results of the harvest, and the regular government pay-outs, but also by George, who now wore a peg-leg strapped to his waist and could use it adequately. The only times he had difficulties were when it got stuck in between stones or cobbles. Sometimes in the night when he took it off to go to bed, his heart would sink at the thought that he was now less of a man and inadequate in bed. Florence repeatedly assured him he wasn’t, but was adamant that he had to be very careful, as they couldn’t afford another child just yet.
As they approached autumn, Joseph sat at the table going through the farm’s paperwork and his records. None of the women from the village did any work for them now but, because Mahala and Mrs Webster maintained their mothers’ meetings, their conversation soon changed to families affected by the war. When Henry was mentioned, Mahala always told them that they had been informed he had been killed at the front. Everyone knew about George and his condition, but when anyone asked about Timothy, Mahala would always reply, ‘I only know he has been promoted, and nothing else.’
At the Templeton-Smythe residence, there was a tearful farewell as Timothy returned to war. He had to smile during his train journey to the dock
s, knowing that Penelope was over the moon organising their wedding on his behalf, with only the date to be announced.
Once on board ship, after settling in his cabin, he was invited to have dinner with the Brigadier that evening. ‘Oh, well. Of course, and at what time?’ he asked, surprised.
‘At six o’clock, sir, and I have been informed it will be informal. I will call and escort you at that time,’ replied the steward, then saluted before he walked off.
Two hours later, Timothy dressed in full uniform for dinner, and after thanking the steward, he entered the Brigadier’s cabin. ‘Hello, my boy, please come in. Steward! For God’s sake, hurry up, I’m bloody starving.’
Timothy approached the dining table set for two, then quickly turned, hearing a scuffling noise behind the door. He approached an empty chair opposite the Brigadier, and at attention, he was about to salute before he sat down. ‘Just sit down, lad,’ snapped the Brigadier impatiently as he poured out some wine. He eyed Timothy, asking, ‘And why are you in uniform?’
‘I usually am when I dine with my superiors.’
‘Bollocks. Don’t do it again, and now listen to me. You come highly recommended, so you had better be exceptionally good, my lad. Under my command at the moment I have a load of shitless, gutless, upper-class nancies. I want men who can rule with common sense, you know the sort of thing—if it doesn’t work, don’t try to use it.’
‘You mean if it doesn’t want repairing, don’t try to fix it,’ said Timothy, and suddenly looked around when the door opened.
They waited to speak until dinner was served, and as soon as the steward left, the Brigadier topped up their glasses. Staring at Timothy, he asked if it was suitable. Timothy had a sip, pulled a face, then gasped, saying, ‘Oh no, sorry but not with this meat, and by the look of it, I assume it’s lamb’s liver?’
