by Anna Jacobs
His aunt seemed to drift down the stairs, looking elegant, even at this early hour. Her hair was silver, though her face was youthful. Phoebe’s mother had gone white at a young age, due to her red hair, she’d always said. Though she hadn’t been a real redhead, just ‘foxy-coloured’ as they’d joked, unlike her daughter’s rich auburn colour.
Phoebe had a sudden stab of desperate longing for her mother. Just one more chat, one more piece of advice … one more hug. She realised his aunt had said something. ‘Oh, sorry. I missed that. I’m a bit tired.’
‘I said, we’ll have a cup of tea and you can tell me all about what brought you to London, Miss Sinclair.’
‘Call her Phoebe. I do,’ Corin said.
Her Ladyship raised one eyebrow as if to ask her visitor whether that was all right and Phoebe nodded, appreciating the courtesy.
He pulled out his pocket watch and checked the time. ‘I’m afraid I have to report to the War Office at nine o’clock, so I can’t stay long.’
A shadow of sadness passed across his aunt’s face. ‘This horrible war. It’s got its claws into you already. Promise you’ll stay safe, my lovely boy.’
He raised her hand to his lips, a theatrical gesture that seemed natural with his elegant aunt. ‘I’ll do my best.’
They stared at one another for a few moments, then Her Ladyship said, ‘This way, dear.’
Phoebe followed them into a small, cluttered sitting room at the rear of the hall. Tea was brought in by Ruth within minutes, by which time Corin had explained to his aunt how he and Phoebe had met.
‘I’d be very grateful if you could help me, Your Ladyship,’ Phoebe said when he’d finished. ‘I’ll try to find a job quickly and not be a nuisance.’
‘Oh, I’ll help you find a job, but we won’t rush into any old job. I like to place all my girls carefully in jobs where they’ll be happy, so I need to get to know them first. People can get lost in a big city. I’ve never forgotten how scared I was when I first started in a London show. I had to fight for my virtue more than once.’
Phoebe stared to hear her say that so frankly.
Her Ladyship’s voice softened. ‘I do understand what it’s like. But please don’t “ladyship” me. Call me Beaty. It’s my name, after all.’
‘I can’t call you by your first name!’
Beaty grinned. ‘I won’t answer unless you do. I don’t use Lady Potherington, either, now. I only put up with it for my husband’s sake. Well, who would want to be called such a stupid-sounding surname? Look at the nickname my darling got from it. Podge! Of all the ridiculous names. He wasn’t at all podgy. I always called him Reggie. So … I’m Beaty now, eh?’
‘Well, all right … Beaty.’
‘Good. Now, you must both be hungry.’
Corin shook his head. ‘I took her to Lamb’s.’
‘What a treat! They do the fluffiest omelettes in town.’
He drained his cup of tea and stood up. ‘I’ve got to go, I’m afraid. I need to shave and change before I report in. Phoebe, don’t forget your promise to keep in touch. Aunt Beaty, don’t lose sight of her.’
‘I’ll see you out, dear.’
He and his aunt disappeared into the hall, and their voices were too low to make out what they were saying. Not that Phoebe would have tried to eavesdrop.
She leant back in her chair, feeling tired, but as Corin had said, she did feel safe here. And welcome, too. She had been very lucky to meet him.
In the hall, Corin said abruptly, ‘Look. I have to tell you, Phoebe interests me. I want to get to know her better. There’s something about her that I—’ He broke off and shrugged.
His aunt looked at him in surprise. ‘I never thought I’d hear you say that again.’
‘I didn’t think I’d say it, either.’
‘She’s not of our class.’
‘No, but she’s intelligent. I feel really comfortable with her, as if I’ve known her all my life.’
‘It happens. If the feeling persists, don’t let anything stop you pursuing the attraction.’
He squeezed her hand, knowing she was thinking of herself and Podge. ‘There’s something else. I feel as if Phoebe’s lucky for me. I’m going to war. A lot of men will be killed. She seems like a guiding star who’ll see me through it all safely. Does that sound foolish?’
‘No more foolish than a lot of other things in a world idiotic enough to go to war instead of talking things out. Besides, we both know our family has these feelings – intuition, some call it. I’ve known my mother foretell things no one could possibly have guessed, and about complete strangers, too. They call it being psychic these days. It’s as good a word for the gift as any. So if you feel there’s something special about Phoebe, well, go for it.’
‘I shall. But, given the war, it may be hard to keep in touch with her. Will you help me there? It’ll be easier for her to stay in touch with you. I’m being transferred and I don’t know where I’m being posted or what exactly I’ll be doing.’
She kissed his cheek. ‘Of course I will help, darling boy. Unless your young lady doesn’t improve on acquaintance.’
‘I’m not afraid of that. We spent time chatting last night, talking about real life, real feelings.’ He chuckled. ‘She doesn’t know how to flirt and turns scarlet at the slightest compliment. And yet she’s so pretty, you’d think she’d have grown used to men’s attentions.’
‘What about the chap you rescued her from? Who was he?’
‘Her mother’s cousin’s stepson, someone she doesn’t like. Frank Hapton, he’s called. He won’t have the faintest idea what’s happened to her now, will he? And if she’s got any sense, she’ll not go back to Swindon again.’
The clock in the hall chimed half past seven and Corin sighed. ‘I really have to go. I mustn’t be late for the war, must I?’
When Beaty came back to join her, Phoebe jerked upright. She’d nearly fallen asleep, felt utterly exhausted.
Her hostess sat down beside her on the sofa and patted her hand. ‘My nephew’s left now and I shall worry about him.’
‘I shall too,’ Phoebe admitted. ‘He’s a lovely person. He’s been so kind to me.’
‘He likes you too.’
She could feel herself going red.
Beaty smiled. ‘He said you blushed at compliments.’
‘I can’t help it, Your Ladyship.’
‘Don’t try to. It’s charming. And we agreed that you’d call me Beaty. Now, you need a rest, but I must tell you a little about this hostel first. I started it to help girls on their own in London, and to give myself something worthwhile to do after I lost dear old Podge. We’ll provide you with accommodation and meals, and help you to find a job. I’m afraid we’re a bit crowded. We’ve had to fit four beds to most rooms, because there are so many girls needing this sort of help. Luckily for you, I have a vacancy.’
‘That’s wonderful. I can pay for my keep.’
‘Not till you find a job – though you can help around the house. Those not working usually do.’ She stood up. ‘Now, let’s get you to bed before you fall asleep sitting upright.’
They stopped in the hall for Phoebe to collect her bag and Beaty led the way up the stairs.
She tapped on a door and called, ‘Are you decent?’
A young woman with wildly curly black hair opened it. ‘We’re just starting to get up.’
‘I have a newcomer needing a bed. Phoebe, meet Alice, Eleanor and Maude. Girls, Phoebe’s exhausted. She travelled up to London overnight. You can question her about her background later.’
She pointed to the only unoccupied bed, which was piled with clothes and said with mock severity, ‘Remove those at once. She needs somewhere to sleep. Anyway, if Ruth sees a mess like that, she’ll read you a lecture.’
They scrambled to reclaim their garments. One pile included some very pretty lingerie, of a sort that Phoebe had never seen before. Knickers were edged in broderie anglaise to match a waist petticoat and cam
isole top.
One of the young women blushed and snatched up a small pile from the end. ‘Sorry. I was so tired last night I forgot to put my knicker liner in my laundry bag.’
‘That’s all right.’ That set of clothing was like her own, dull and old-fashioned, which was a relief.
Within five minutes, Phoebe had undressed behind a screen and was snuggling down in bed. She tried to listen to their conversation, wanting to find out about her new roommates, but couldn’t keep her eyes open.
She was woken at two o’clock that afternoon by Ruth.
‘Best you get up now, Phoebe, or you’ll never sleep tonight.’
‘Oh. Yes. Sorry.’
‘Nothing to apologise for. You needed a sleep, so we kept out of your way. Now, there’s a bathroom at each end of the corridor. No taking baths in the mornings, people are in too much of a hurry to get off to work, but you can book a bath for the evening any time. You can have a bath now, if you like. There’s no one else needing a bathroom. Here’s your towel. You’ll get a clean one every week. Don’t forget to wipe the bath out afterwards.’
‘I won’t.’
‘When you’re ready, Beaty would like to chat to you and I’ll bring you something to eat, to put you on till dinner. This is your chest of drawers, and you can hang up anything that needs it in the wardrobe by the window. You’ll be sharing it with Maude. Don’t go back to sleep, now.’
She whisked out and Phoebe stretched, enjoying the comfort of the bed and the fine cotton sheets. Then she got up and took Ruth’s advice by having a quick bath in a lovely modern bathroom which had an indoor toilet and a big mirror over the washbasin. Such luxury!
She unpacked quickly. Well, there wasn’t much to unpack, was there? She’d had to leave some of her clothes and other possessions behind.
Beaty called out to come in when someone knocked at the sitting room door. She was sitting near the window at a desk strewn with papers and neatly slit envelopes, and she was glad of the interruption, being tired of office work, necessary as it was.
‘Shall I come back later, Lady – I mean, Beaty?’
‘No, dear. I’d welcome a break. Sit down and tell me what jobs you’ve had.’
‘I did any old job while I was looking after Mum: scrubbing, laundry, ironing, picking for farmers. I’ve worked in a curtain shop for the past two years and I was learning curtain making.’
As she explained about her mother and the Steins, Beaty saw tears well in her eyes. ‘Give me the full names of your Austrian friends and I’ll see if I can locate them. I may be able to get them sent somewhere a little less spartan, though it’ll probably take time. Do you want to find more shop work?’
‘I hadn’t really thought. I don’t mind what I do, actually. Things are bound to change with the war, aren’t they? Some of the men’s jobs will be vacant.’
‘Unfortunately, yes. People who say it’ll be over in a few months don’t know their history.’ Beaty sighed. ‘I shall worry about Corin and I have other young relatives who’ll be caught up in it, as well. But I must admit he’s my favourite nephew.’
Phoebe opened her mouth as if to comment, then shut it again, looking down at her skirt instead.
Daren’t talk about him, Beaty thought. Is she interested in him as a man or not? Perhaps she doesn’t think there can be anything between them. Or perhaps I’m getting ahead of myself. After all, they only met yesterday. Though that’s all it took with me and Podge.
‘Well, let’s get back to your needs, dear,’ she said aloud. ‘I think you need a few days to get used to London. I can show you round a few places, if you like.’ She cocked her head, waiting for an answer.
‘I can’t ask you to do that.’
‘Why not? I’ll be out and about, and you can simply come with me. If there’s some function or meeting I can’t take you to, I’ll send you home again or show you somewhere to wait for me. We’ll have fun.’ And she’d get to know Phoebe properly, see if she was worthy of Corin.
‘Oh. Well, if you’re sure, your l–um, Beaty, I mean. I’d love to do that.’
‘I’m very sure. And one other thing. If you’ve ever wanted to do some other type of job, one you’ll enjoy, now is the time to say. I know a lot of people, so I may be able to help you realise your ambition.’
‘I’ve never even thought of finding a job because I enjoy it, only because I need to earn a living.’ Phoebe hesitated. ‘You’re being very kind to a stranger.’
‘I try to be kind to all the young women who come to this hostel. I think of them as my girls. I never had children, though I’d have liked to. Now I’ve lost Podge, having a lot of young people around me helps keep my spirits up. I still miss my husband very much.’ She could see the understanding in Phoebe’s eyes and wasn’t surprised by the next confidence.
‘I still miss my mother, though it’s over two years since she died.’
‘Well, then. We can provide some company for one another as you get to know London. Now, go and have a look round the other rooms on this floor. There are two sitting rooms, a quiet room and a library. You can choose a book if you enjoy reading. Just write down what you’ve borrowed on the list. The evening meal is at seven o’clock.’
When Phoebe had left, Beaty stared thoughtfully at the door. Corin was right. The young woman was easy to talk to. You found yourself telling her things you didn’t normally share with strangers.
There had to be a better job for someone like her than serving in a shop.
Especially if Corin continued to take an interest in her.
Beaty turned back to the desk, sighed at the sight of the papers, then paused, one hand stretched out to pick up an envelope, as an idea struck her.
Chapter Seven
Phoebe enjoyed getting to know London, and one week stretched into two. She helped in the house and went out and about with Beaty. It felt as if the country was hovering, as if the war hadn’t really started, then one day her pleasure was marred by the sight of men in uniforms, marching or driving around, looking serious and busy.
One morning she was walking past Waterloo Station, on an errand for Beaty, when she saw a line of horse-drawn ambulances lined up outside. Like other passers-by, she slowed down to see what was happening.
‘It’s some poor wounded soldiers sent back from the war,’ a plump, motherly woman told her. ‘They’ll bring out those who can walk first, then the men on stretchers. I saw another group arriving yesterday. They’ll be taking them to hospitals in London first, but one of the orderlies told me they’ll send most of them out to country hospitals tomorrow. Except for those who’re badly wounded and need operations.’
‘I hadn’t expected this to happen so quickly,’ Phoebe said. But of course, she should have. If the fighting had started, there would inevitably be casualties, even on the first day.
‘They haven’t wasted time hurting one another,’ another woman said bitterly. ‘I’ve a son in the army. He’s just gone out there. I can’t bear to see this.’ Her voice broke and she hurried away.
‘It’s only the beginning,’ an older man said gloomily. ‘It’ll be far worse than those damned Boer Wars, this one will, because the weapons have got nastier.’
Phoebe couldn’t move on till she’d seen what was happening, and she soon found that the woman next to her was right. The walking wounded came out first, escorted by orderlies and a few young women.
‘Those nurses look so young,’ she exclaimed involuntarily.
‘Bless you, they aren’t nurses.’
‘What are they, then? Those look like nurses’ uniforms.’
‘That’s the uniform of the VADs, voluntary aid detachments, that stands for. They’re nursing aides or they do other jobs as well, driving, cleaning, whatever’s needed. This group are Red Cross VADs and they arrived not long ago to help out. They wear blue dresses with a red cross on the apron bib. See it?’
‘Oh, yes. They look very smart, don’t they?’
‘Yes, they do. My cousin
’s youngest volunteered to be a VAD, but she’s with St John. They wear grey dresses with a St John VAD armband. They’re not as pretty.’
‘Them lasses won’t care whether they look pretty or not when they’re dealing with blood and worse,’ the gloomy man said, determined to look on the black side. ‘I was an orderly. I’ll never forget the things I saw.’
‘Don’t be so grumpy. That won’t help us win the war,’ the plump woman scolded. ‘The soldiers will care once they start getting better. Nothing like a pretty face to cheer a man up, whether he’s young or old.’
Phoebe took her time walking back to the hostel, needing to think about what she’d seen. She couldn’t get the sight of the injured men out of her mind and envied those helping them.
By the time she arrived, she was certain what she wanted to do, so went to see Beaty immediately. ‘You asked me to consider what to do with my life. Well, while this war is on, I’d like to become a VAD. If they’ll have me, that is.’
‘You’re sure about this? Are you any good at dealing with blood and gore, or scrubbing floors?’
‘I’ve been scrubbing floors ever since I was big enough to do it because Mum was always sickly. I’ve also worked on farms, killing chickens, helping when they killed pigs. And I looked after my mother, who was helpless at the end.’
Beaty studied her face intently, then nodded. ‘Well, volunteering to become a VAD is a very worthwhile thing. I’ll take you to see my friend Rosemary. She’ll advise you.’
‘Thank you.’ Phoebe hesitated, then gestured towards the desk. ‘In the meantime, is there any way I can help you with the letters and deskwork? I can’t help noticing that the papers are piling up and you’re always so busy.’
‘I think the papers on my desk breed overnight. There always seem to be twice as many in the morning.’ She sighed. ‘I’ve never been good at keeping up with letters, let alone doing accounts. I was thinking of asking you if you’d like to stay here and help me permanently, act as my secretary. You seem an intelligent sort of girl.’ She cocked her head on one side, as if asking her young companion to consider this alternative.
