Road to War

by Valerie Wilding

  Later

  Once the Wetherbys had settled in, we took tea overlooking the lawn. I like Violet very much, although she seems nervous of Billie, and clutches Archie’s arm whenever my dear dog is near. I told her he’s the gentlest dog imaginable (and extremely intelligent), but she wasn’t convinced. However, we were soon chatting over butterfly cakes as if we’d known each other for ever, but Archie interrupted and offered to show her the garden.

  I’d have burst out laughing if it hadn’t been a rude thing to do. Archie! Interested in the garden! On an afternoon when there’s a chill wind nipping you round every corner! I don’t know what’s come over him. However, once they’d gone, I was left with the dreary John, whose main topic of conversation was his stamp collection.

  Postage stamps are all very well and, I daresay, quite interesting if you can see them, but if you can’t, they are deadly dull.

  When the others returned, I suggested Archie should show John the horses. Neither seemed keen, but I insisted. It was a way of getting my own back on Archie for leaving me with John.

  As they left, Archie said, “Get Violet to tell you about the things she’s doing to help our soldiers win the war.” He smiled at her. “She’s amazing.”

  Well, I don’t know why Archie thinks Violet is so amazing. All she’s done is start a knitting group in their village hall. They knit socks and scarves and so on, for the troops in the trenches. Apparently, the poor men live a wet, freezing cold, muddy existence. Horrible.

  As soon as the Wetherbys leave, I shall start something similar in our village hall. I’m as good as Violet, and I’ll prove it to Archie.

  Actually Violet and I could become friends if she’d get over her fear of Billie.

  12th March

  I wondered what Archie saw in John! Now I know. It’s Violet! He really likes her. In fact I think he cares for her, a lot. They’ve spent much time together, and Archie even came with us when Violet and I picked catkins for Mimi.

  And all that grabbing of Archie’s arm when Billie was near was just so much twaddle. Violet’s no more afraid of dogs than I am!

  Archie’s very downcast now they’ve left. Still, that’s not my fault, and I have work to do. War work! Tomorrow morning, I’ll go to the village hall and put up a notice inviting all women and girls to join my knitting group. It’ll be called “Wool for War”! I’ll be the organizer, and will pack up all the lovely knitted things and send them to our fighting men in France. Or Belgium, or wherever they are.

  Mimi has promised to decorate my notice with pictures of socks and scarves and woollen hats and shivering soldiers. I hope she doesn’t sneak in a fairy or two. They’re in all her paintings now. Archie says she’s going peculiar because of Papa’s death. I didn’t like to tell him that if she’s going peculiar it’s most likely because he, Archie, will soon go to war.

  I asked if he’d thought about the future, and he has. A good deal. I was surprised and asked why he’d said nothing.

  “War is men’s business, Daffers,” he said. “I’m not likely to bother you or Mimi about it, am I?”

  At least he didn’t mention my “pretty little head”.

  Later

  Now I’ve realized why Archie brought me violets from London! They’re obviously his favourite flowers now.

  13th March

  Oh, I am mortified! I went to the village hall this morning. I’d just pulled a chair to the wall, to stand on, when I heard footsteps behind me and, “Good morning, Miss Rowntree. We don’t often see you in here.”

  I stepped down, my notice in hand, and turned to see Mrs Effingham-Jones, who does a huge amount for the village – she’s always to be seen behind a stall at a sale of work or a bazaar. She’s married to a retired army officer and likes to get out as much as she can.

  I was just telling her she was the very person I wanted to see, when a group of women trooped in. Each carried a pretty floral bag.

  “Ah,” I said, “how fortunate. I’m Daphne Rowntree…”

  “Yes, Miss, we know,” said one, “Miss Rowntree from the big house.”

  I smiled. “I’ve had such a good idea. I’d like to invite you all to join ‘Wool for War’!”

  Blank faces.

  “My knitting group!” I said brightly. “To knit comforts for soldiers!”

  One or two glanced at each other; the rest looked down at their feet. Then Mrs Effingham-Jones said, not unkindly, “We are already a knitting group, Miss Rowntree,” and, to my horror, they all reached into their floral bags and pulled out an assortment of half-knitted woollen things.

  They invited me to join their group. I wasn’t sure how to reply. I didn’t want them to feel uncomfortable because of my presence, but it seemed rude to refuse – it is a war effort. In the end, Mrs Effingham-Jones pulled a chair forward and said, “Do sit here, Miss Rowntree.” In no time I was part of their circle, feeling most awkward and clutching a ball of wool and some needles.

  My governess tried to teach me to knit when I was small, but I was never good at it, and I haven’t improved with age. I keep forgetting to put the wool round to the other side and end up with far too many stitches. The women helped when I asked, but I’m sure they considered me an utter fool. Of course they’d all thought of knitting for soldiers before me. Silly Miss Rowntree from the big house, coming down to organize their lives, when they’re all far more capable than me.

  In the end, they took away my needles and gave me a skein of wool to hold while someone else wound it into a ball.

  I felt totally out of my depth.

  22nd March

  Uncle Cecil’s here for the night so he can have talks with the new estate manager, who is proving to be a real boon. That’s quite funny, because his name is actually Mr Boone! Uncle Cecil’s also removed another anxiety from me. He’s going to deliver Mimi’s latest batch of paintings to the gallery in London.

  He arrived in a new glossy black motor car. It’s been given to him by the government. Well, it’s not a gift, exactly, it’s for him to use while he’s working for them. After he’d seen to estate matters, Uncle Cecil sent Elsie to fetch Archie to Papa’s study.

  I asked Elsie what it was about, and she didn’t know, so we stayed on the stairs. When the study door opened, I pretended to be asking her about some lost lace. Archie winked at me and jerked his head towards the front entrance. I followed him outside and caught up as he strode along the front of the house.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  He was bursting with excitement. “Uncle Cecil remembered Papa’s motor car,” he said. “It’s lying idle, and Boone is to teach me to drive!”

  How utterly thrilling! My little brother, driving a motor car!

  23rd March

  Before he left this morning Uncle Cecil spent a couple of hours with Mimi in Papa’s study. When they emerged, her eyes were pink-rimmed. She must be desperate for her brother to stay, but he has Aunt Leonora and my cousin Roberta to look after – and his government work, of course.

  My uncle kissed her cheek and led her to the morning room. Then he came back to me and we walked outside where his motor car was waiting. It was drizzling, so I stayed beneath the portico. I assumed that Mimi’s paintings were carefully wrapped and stowed away in the back of the car.

  “Daffy, keep an eye on your mother, won’t you?”

  “Of course,” I said. “Uncle Cecil, did you look at her latest pictures? There are lots of—”

  “Fairies, I know,” he said. “Most odd. Not herself at all.” He patted Billie’s head. “One thing’s for certain, Daffy. I won’t be taking those to the gallery! Who’d buy them?”

  He kissed me and squeezed my hand, then looked round. “Where’s Archie?”

  Honk! Honk!

  “There!” I pointed along the drive. Coming slowly towards us, with a lot of wheel-wobbling, was Archie – in Papa’s motor car! He was already driving it!

  Oh, it does look fun!

  26th March

  Mrs Effingh
am-Jones called today. The maid showed her into the small sitting room and I ordered tea.

  We discussed the fine weather and the knitting group. I haven’t returned to it, but I have purchased fresh skeins of wool for Elsie to take to them. (Elsie asked if she might join them for an hour on Tuesday mornings, and I was glad to give her permission.)

  Eventually tea arrived, with some delicious little sugar biscuits, and Mrs Effingham-Jones got round to what she wanted to discuss.

  “Miss Rowntree,” she began, “I know you wanted to be part of a – um – our knitting group, but you, er, well—”

  I helped her. “I’m not a natural knitter, Mrs Effingham-Jones.”

  “Quite,” she said. “But we have a new group that meets on Wednesdays, and we wondered – since you’re keen to do war work – if you’d like to join us. Of course,” she added hurriedly, “in normal circumstances, we wouldn’t dream of asking you to come to the village hall, but – well – there is a war on, and every little helps.”

  She’s a very nice woman. “I understand perfectly, Mrs Effingham-Jones,” I said. “I’d be delighted to help. I hope it’s a task I can manage!”

  “Oh yes!” she said. “We roll bandages!”

  Roll bandages. Well, people obviously think that even Miss Rowntree can roll a bandage.

  28th March

  I’m a horrible, small-minded person. I went to bandage-rolling at the village hall, feeling slightly grumpy and prepared to be bored rigid, but I wasn’t! It was fun! We had tea and biscuits, and everybody talked. Actually, there wasn’t much chatter at first – people were rather stiff, and I noticed lots of glances in my direction. But just as I finished rolling my first bandage, I dropped it and it unrolled down the length of the hall. Without thinking I said, “Damn!”

  Everybody looked slightly shocked, and I know I went red. Then I started to giggle and said, “Sorry. My brother says it all the time, and it sort of rubs off after a while.” They laughed. I think they were more surprised than shocked. I’m sure their men folk use bad language occasionally. They just didn’t expect it from “Miss Rowntree from the big house”.

  After that, we got on swimmingly, and I learned all about their husbands – good and bad – and their children. I’m looking forward to next Wednesday. At last I’m doing something towards the war, even though it’s not very much.

  Later

  I took Honeycomb out for a gallop this afternoon. It was the most glorious day. Sunshine, a stiff breeze, puffy white clouds chuffing across the sky, and yellow primroses dotting the hedgerows. Splendid!

  As we ambled back across the park, I heard the growl of a motor. Of course it was Archie. I tied Honeycomb up to a tree, away from the racket he was making, and went to see.

  He drove round in circles, showing off like mad. I don’t think he quite has the hang of steering, as he jerks from side to side rather a lot.

  “Fancy a spin, Daffers?” he asked.

  “No, thanks,” I said. “I’ll wait till you’re a little more competent.”

  He stuck his tongue out and drove off. He hasn’t grown up all that much!

  I envy Archie. It must be wonderful to sit behind that steering wheel and make the motor car do exactly as you want. A bit like riding Honeycomb, I suppose, only noisier.

  I’d love to have a go!

  1st April

  Archie has more friends than he knew! They all want to have a go at driving. Most of them aren’t very good, but I’ve noticed that they’re the ones who jump in and try to drive without listening to what Archie has to say. Those who listen, learn.

  Mimi’s still putting fairies in her pictures. They all have names, too. It’s as if she knows them personally! Tiny Lalu has a huge family and dozens of friends – old ones, young ones, even babies!

  3rd April

  Two of Archie’s friends – the better drivers – spent all afternoon with him and the motor car. When they’d gone, I asked if I could have a go.

  “You!” he said, as if I’d told him I planned to grow a beard.

  “Why not?” I asked. “You know I’m a much better rider than most of your friends, and I can ride a bicycle, too. Why shouldn’t I have a go at driving?”

  He was highly amused at this but opened the door for me. Then he went around the front with the starting handle, stuck it in a hole somewhere and swung it round and round until the motor started.

  Oh, how can I put into words the thrill I got when I actually made the car move for the first time? I MUST learn to drive!

  8th April

  Easter Sunday, and the church was full of spring flowers. What a joyous service! I sang my heart out! I know people could see I was enjoying it, because many of them kept glancing my way.

  I was amused to discover there’d been a choir practice on Thursday morning and nobody told me about it! Never mind. I know all the hymns backwards.

  The Americans have declared war on Germany. How strange that we’re pleased about that, just as we’re celebrating Easter.

  10th April

  I am so proud of myself. Even Archie says I’m a naturally good driver, and have a feel for machinery! I am, frankly, a better driver than he is. And being behind the steering wheel makes me feel so sophisticated and glamorous!

  11th April

  Honeycomb and I were trotting towards the village today, when I saw the Baguley ladies riding towards me, with Reggie alongside. We stopped to speak.

  “And where are you off to, Daphne?” asked Lady Baguley. “To the hall, perhaps, to spend time with the village women?”

  I know I went red, but it was not embarrassment. It was anger. That woman can be so offensive!

  “Yes, Lady Baguley,” I replied politely. “We do war work.”

  Reggie grinned. “I say, Miss Rowntree, do you really?”

  Elizabeth smiled, too. “Bandage-rolling, isn’t it, Daphne?”

  Cat!

  I gave Reggie my biggest smile. I think he’s the only person I know who doesn’t think me odd.

  We parted, but a moment or two later, I heard hooves pounding, and turned to see Reggie cantering towards me.

  “I say, Miss Rowntree, I think it’s marvellous that you’re so patriotic.”

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “Er, how is your brother, er, Archibald?” he asked. “Must ride over to see him sometime.”

  “Do,” I said. “He’ll be delighted. Good day, Reggie.”

  At lunch, I told Mimi and Archie about my encounter with the Baguleys. Mimi was more interested in Reggie.

  “It will be pleasant if he calls on Archie,” she said.

  Archie grunted. “Don’t even remember what he looks like. Can’t imagine why he’s keen to call on me.”

  Mimi said, “Perhaps it’s not you he’s keen to see.”

  I looked up, wondering what on earth she meant. She was concentrating on her plate, but glanced up with the most innocent look on her face.

  Archie absolutely honked with laughter when he saw my expression. “He’s coming to see you, you ninny! He has a fancy for you!”

  Oh, heavens, I thought. That won’t please the Baguleys.

  Mimi changed the subject. “I want you to go to the London gallery in a week or two, Daffy darling,” she said. “Speak to the owner and find out if he likes my new paintings.”

  “But I thought—”

  Ignoring me, she continued, “Your uncle Cecil wouldn’t take them, so I’ve sent them myself, by carrier. There’s absolutely no need to mention this to him.”

  Gosh.

  “Archie often goes to London,” I said. “Couldn’t he do it?”

  Again, Mimi continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “You’re going to visit your cousin Roberta,” she said. “Cecil and Leonora have invited you.”

  “Oh, I see.” I haven’t seen Roberta for ages. We don’t visit London much, not now the war’s on. I remember her as being very brainy and dull. She didn’t want to ride or swim or anything when we were younger.


  “But that will leave just you and Archie at home,” I protested. “Let Archie go. I don’t really want to.”

  “They’d like you to.”

  Archie looked at Mimi and seemed about to say something. She stared at her tomato salad.

  He cleared his throat. “The thing is, Daffers, old girl, I’m joining up. I’m eighteen now, and I’m off to the war. Me and Firebrand.” He grinned. “You can have the car to yourself.”

  12th April

  I’ve argued all I can. Archie will join the cavalry, and that’s that. He would have to join something, because it’s the law.

  I refused to go to London and leave Mimi alone, but she’s thought of that. Aunt Eloise is coming to stay – for several months. She no longer wishes to be at her Essex home, because it’s dangerous on the coast, she says. German aeroplanes – Gothas – fly over to drop bombs.

  Aunt Eloise is probably the best person to be here. I’m actually quite worried about Mimi. This morning I picked the last of our hyacinths for her dressing table. She breathed in the scent, then said, “Lovely, Daffy darling! These are Lalu’s favourite colour.”

  I didn’t tell Archie – he’s too busy getting ready to leave. Should I tell Uncle Cecil? I don’t know. Perhaps Mimi was joking.

  Aunt Eloise will sort her out.

  18th April

  Archie left today. When we said goodbye I buried my face in Firebrand’s warm neck for comfort. Archie patted both me and Billie.

  21st April

  I’ve been so miserable. Mimi spends a lot of time wandering round the woods now. I must say, she always looks happier when she returns, clutching a posy of wild flowers or leaves. But she’s so strange these days.

  23rd April

  Aunt Eloise arrived, grumbling because her train was late. It was worse for me, because I’d accompanied Hawkins to the station, and had nothing to do but wander the hedgerows until she appeared. I found some lovely crab-apple blossom for Mimi, though, so the time wasn’t entirely wasted.

  I had a brief chat with Aunt Eloise before she met Mimi, and told her my worries. “There’s nothing I can put my finger on,” I said. “She just seems, well, strange.”