by Rhys Bowen
Emily laughed. “It’s ridiculous, isn’t it?”
He shrugged. “I suppose no parents want their babies to leave the nest. So what are you going to do about it?”
“Until now, I’ve played the devoted daughter. My father made me promise to take care of my mother; not to do anything to upset her any more. But it’s gone on long enough. I’ll turn twenty-one soon, and then I’m free to make my own decisions, so I’ll make my escape.”
“Good on yer,” he said. “You have to find the courage to take your life into your own hands. So where will you escape to?”
“I’m not sure yet. I’d rather like to volunteer as a nurse, like my friend Clarissa.”
“Oh, good idea,” he said. “Volunteer here. I’d like you as my nurse. I’d get better a lot quicker, I’m sure. And we wouldn’t have to be introduced. So when can we meet, before you turn twenty-one?”
Emily felt her pulse quicken. It had been so long since a young man had looked at her in this way, especially a man like Robbie. Had a man ever looked at her like that, she wondered? Then a picture flashed into her mind. A boy with red hair and light blue eyes, not unlike Robbie, and also deemed unsuitable by her mother. A boy who had been killed at the front a month after Freddie. And she had promised herself never to feel anything for a young man again. She tried to sound measured and in control as she answered. “I do have to walk past your hospital to go to the nearest pillar box. And I do write letters to my best friend.”
“So if I happened to be near the gate at a certain time . . .” He gave her a knowing grin.
“At eleven o’clock, say?”
“That would be good. After morning rounds. They’d approve of my taking a gentle stroll up the driveway.”
Emily beamed at him. “All right. Eleven o’clock then. Now please do go before my mother sees you.”
“Rightio,” he said. “See you tomorrow then, Emily.” He reached out his hand to touch her, then thought better of it. “You’re the first good thing that’s happened to me in quite a while.”
And me, too, she thought, as she watched him disappear between the rhododendron bushes.
She walked back to the house with a smile on her face.
“Where have you been?” Her mother was in the front hall, adjusting the flower arrangement on the side table, as Emily came in through the front door, slightly breathless. She glanced down at the empty wooden basket in Emily’s hand. “I thought you went to pick strawberries.”
“They weren’t quite ripe,” Emily said. “I thought I’d give them another day or two.”
And she walked past her mother and was conscious of her critical stare as she went down the hall towards the kitchen.
CHAPTER THREE
Dear Clarissa,
I finally have some news. I’ve met a fascinating chap. He’s an aviator with the Royal Air Force and he’s Australian. He’s quite different from any boy I’ve met so far. He says what he thinks, completely oblivious to any of our conventions, and he’s obviously very brave, but he came to see our garden to have something uplifting to describe to his mother, who tries to grow flowers in the most inhospitable place. Isn’t that sweet? And he’s awfully good-looking, too. I’m sure my mother wouldn’t approve of him, so we’re meeting in secret, which of itself makes life a little more spicy.
My mother is in full planning mode as my twenty-first birthday is next month. I don’t suppose you have any leave coming to you, do you? Mummy wants to invite all sorts of awful, snobby people—like Daphne Armstrong, because she’s married a viscount! So it would be lovely to have you there for moral support. Also because I haven’t seen you for over a year, and I’m dying to hear everything. I’m thinking of signing up myself after I turn twenty-one, so you can give me all the grim details.
Emily finished the letter, put a stamp on it and went downstairs, to find her mother sitting at the small Queen Anne desk in the morning room. She looked up, frowning.
“I don’t know where to find a band these days,” she said. “I might have to put out feelers in Plymouth, or even Exeter. There are those old men who play at the Grand Hotel in Torquay . . .”
Emily gave a despairing laugh. “Mummy, they are at least ninety, and they play Strauss waltzes.”
“Nothing wrong with a good Strauss waltz. But I agree, they are a trifle doddery. Ah well. Perhaps I’ll send Daddy on the quest. He’s got the assizes in Exeter next week.”
The ormolu clock on the mantelpiece started to chime the hour, making Emily look up. “I’m just off to post a letter to Clarissa,” she said. “Anything you want posted?”
“Not today, dear. And when you come back, we need to finalize a list of people to invite.”
Emily tried not to break into a run as she went up the drive and then hurried down the lane. She didn’t see him at first as she approached the gate, and felt absurd disappointment. But as she looked towards the house, she saw him coming, walking slowly with the help of crutches. He spotted her and tried to hurry. Emily held up a hand. “Take your time or you’ll trip.”
He was quite out of breath when he reached her, with beads of sweat on his forehead, making her realize how much this simple walk was hurting him. “Sorry about that,” he said. “I had to wait for the doctor’s visit. They were concerned about one of my burns not healing properly.”
“You probably dislodged the dressing when you climbed through the hedge,” she said.
“Could be.” He smiled at her.
“Are you still in much pain?”
“All the better for seeing you.” He gave her a reassuring smile, then looked around. “Let’s go under the trees over there, where we can’t be seen. I don’t think anyone would mind us chatting, but word might get back to your mother.”
“Good idea,” she said, and walked slowly beside him. “My mother has launched herself into planning my twenty-first party. I told her I didn’t want anything special, and I feel it is wrong to hold a big celebration when the country is still at war and so many people are suffering, but she’s determined. She wanted me to be presented at court, you know.”
“My word,” he said. “I didn’t realize you were royal or something. Should I call you ‘Your Highness’?”
Emily laughed. “We’re not royal. We’re not even aristocratic. My father is the son of a vicar and rose to become a judge. My mother is solidly middle class. Her father was a bank manager. But she has grand ideas. She was set on my marrying a title.”
“And you?”
“I’m set on marrying for love. There was one young man I was rather keen on, when I was eighteen. But he was killed in Flanders, the same week as my brother.”
“War’s a bugger, isn’t it?” he said. “All the mates I started out with are gone. And now most of the boys I flew with.” He said it in the most matter-of-fact way, as if it were something quite expected.
She felt a shiver of alarm. “You won’t have to go back, will you? Not after all your injuries. Won’t they send you home to Australia?”
“But I want to go back. I have to. Aeroplanes are making a difference. We’re actually winning at last. I have to do my bit.”
“But you’ve already done more than your bit.” She said it more vehemently than she had intended.
He smiled at her. “Don’t worry about me. I live a charmed life. God doesn’t want me and the devil won’t have me.”
“Don’t speak that way, please.”
“You don’t want to get too fond of me, Emily. I’m unsuitable, remember.” He finished the phrase lightly and gave her a wink. “Anyway, the war’s going to be over soon. That’s what everyone’s saying. And as soon as I’m released from duty, I’m going back to the farm, to work with my dad.”
“Do you want to do that?” she asked cautiously. “Now that you’ve seen more of the world? You told me I should find the courage to live my own life.”
He was frowning. “Oh, but I want to. It’s a bonzer life. All that open air and freedom to do what you want, an
d I’ve got grand ideas for making things better. I’m going to have an aeroplane shipped from here. Think what we can accomplish with that! Check the waterholes and for broken fences, fly someone to a hospital, even go and visit a neighbour. My word. An aeroplane will change everything. I might even ship more than one and teach other blokes to fly.” He looked so animated, but then his smile faded. “But like I said, the outback’s no place for a woman, especially not a woman who is used to fancy things.”
They chatted for a few minutes longer, then Emily realized she shouldn’t stay out too long.
“See you tomorrow?” Robbie asked. “Same time?”
Emily nodded. She almost skipped like a small girl on her way to the pillar box. It was no good Robbie saying that she shouldn’t get too fond of him. She already was.
After that, she managed a few minutes with him every morning, and even the dreaded visit to the convalescent home with her mother was made sweet by knowing that she would find an opportunity to slip away and see him. Each time they talked, she sensed his enthusiasm for his life in Australia and his closeness with his family. His mother had played games with her children, taught them to read, sung them to sleep. Emily couldn’t ever remember sitting on her mother’s knee, and certainly not being sung to sleep.
“And my dad,” he continued. “He and I used to go out riding together every morning. He came out from England as a young bloke, you know. Come out from a town, with no skills, nothing, worked as a farmhand, saved his money and built our place up from scratch. And he loves the land the way I do. He’s excited like a little kid when he sees a flight of galahs.”
“Galahs?” she asked.
“Pink cockatoos,” he said. “Pretty birds, but a bloody nuisance. They’d strip the wood off the porch if you let them. But when you see a flock of a thousand of them landing at the waterhole . . . my, but that’s a lovely sight. I’d love to show you . . .” He broke off, as if he might have gone too far. “So did you just have the one brother?” he asked.
Emily nodded. “Yes. He was four years older than me. There was a sister in between, but she died of diphtheria when she was a baby. So now it’s just me.”
“So you can understand why they want to hang on to you, can’t you?”
She nodded. “I suppose so. But I can’t be cooped up forever. In my mother’s day, a girl stayed home until she was married. But that can’t happen any more, can it? How many girls will never marry because there are no young men coming home?”
“Then you have to stick up for yourself and do what you want.”
On another occasion, he asked, “What would you have done if there hadn’t been a war? Apart from getting married, I mean.”
Emily gave him a shy smile. “My teachers at school said I had a good brain and wanted me to go to university, but my mother thought it was a silly idea. She said too much education was not good for women. They needed to know how to run a home and a family, and being educated only made them discontent. I’m afraid she’s hopelessly old-fashioned in her ideas.”
“Would you have wanted to go to university?” he asked.
Emily considered this. “I’m not sure. I don’t think I’d have wanted to be a professor or even a teacher. I told you I’d like to try being a nurse. I don’t know whether I’d be any good, but at least I’d know I was doing something worthwhile.”
“You’re chatting with me. That’s something worthwhile,” he said. “Raising a poor, wounded bloke’s spirits. I count the minutes until you come every day, Emily.”
“I do, too,” she said. “You’re certainly raising my spirits, too, Robbie. My mother noticed it yesterday, but of course she got it wrong. She thought I was excited about my upcoming party.”
“You’re having a party?”
“My twenty-first. My mother’s in a full planning frenzy.” She hesitated, wondering if she could find a way to invite Robbie. An image swam into her head of dancing with him, his arms holding her tightly. “I should be getting back,” she said. “The dressmaker is coming round for my fitting. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
But dry and summery spells never last long in England, and the weather broke that night with a vengeance, with driving rain and gale-force winds. There was no question of going out for a walk. Mrs Bryce revised her party plans to include an option for an indoor event. She also revised down the numbers as it became evident how few young people were available.
“We can’t have a party with so few men,” she said. “I have twenty girls who have accepted, but only four men, and two of those are still schoolboys.”
“We could invite some of the officers from the convalescent home,” Emily said, as if the idea had just occurred to her. “You said yourself the other day that there are some well-mannered chaps amongst them.”
“Now, that’s not a bad idea,” Mrs Bryce said. “Some of them are ambulatory and fit enough to dance, and the others can sit and make polite conversation. As soon as this rain abates, I’ll have a little talk with Matron and see which young men she thinks will do.”
They went on their weekly visit to the convalescent home in the motor car because the weather was still so unsettled.
“I must speak to Matron about letting some of the young officers attend your party,” Mrs Bryce said. “I’m sure she can’t object. We’ll send a motor car around for them.”
As she disappeared towards Matron’s room, Emily darted quickly to see Robbie. He was sitting up in bed, writing a letter.
“Hey, Robbie, wake up. Here comes your young lady,” one of the men further down the ward called out.
Robbie looked up, startled, then his face broke into a big smile. “My word, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he said. “I was just writing to my mother and telling her about you. I was trying to describe you, but I couldn’t get it right.”
“How about elegant, sophisticated and dazzlingly beautiful?” she said, her eyes challenging him.
“All of the above, naturally.”
This made her blush. “Look, Robbie, I wanted to invite you to my party next week.”
“I don’t think your mother would want me there, would she?”
“I want you there, and besides, I’ve squared it away with Mummy. We were horribly short of young men, so I suggested we should invite some of the officers. She’s up with Matron now obtaining permission.”
“I might not know how to behave—speaking to people I haven’t been introduced to and that sort of thing.”
“Rubbish, you’ll be fine. I’ll tell them your parents are big land owners in Australia, which is true. Around here, we’re very impressed with people who own big farms.”
“Can I bring a couple of my mates?” he asked. “I’ll need a bit of moral support.”
“Anyone would think I was inviting you to an expedition to a lion’s den,” she said. “Look, if you don’t want to come to my party, I’ll understand, but I’d really like to have an ally there myself amongst all the dreadful bores that Mummy has invited.”
“All right,” he said, after a pause. “I guess I can suffer anything to be with you.”
“What are the names of your friends?” she said. “I’ll go up to Matron now and tell her I want you added to the list.”
A wary look came over his face. “I don’t think she has the highest opinion of us, from what she’s heard from the nurses.”
“Then I’ll send the motor for you myself if necessary,” Emily said. “And I’ll tell my mother that you are coming. It is my party after all.”
“That’s my girl.” Robbie beamed. “Learning to show some spunk. I like that.”
“You’re teaching me bad habits,” she said.
“Not at all. I’m teaching you how to survive in a difficult world. You can’t be under your parents’ thumb forever. You have to take charge of your own life now you’re going to be twenty-one.”
“Too right,” a voice from the next bed chimed in, making her realize that their whole conversation had been overheard by the en
tire ward.
CHAPTER FOUR
By the day of the party, the weather had changed again. For two days before, there was brilliant sunshine, making them worry that it was too good to last. Weather in the West Country tended to be especially changeable. But the day itself dawned fine and bright. Tradesmen’s vans arrived with provisions and extra chairs and tables for the garden. A dance floor was erected on the side lawn. Lanterns were strung in the trees. Extra girls were hired to help cook and to wait at table. Mrs Bryce was a bundle of nerves, flitting from one setting to the next, double- and triple-checking anything that could possibly go wrong.
Emily found that she was torn between excitement and dread. It was her big day, after all, and she wanted it to be special, but she was also afraid it wouldn’t live up to her dreams. And if Robbie could be there, that was all that mattered. The party was due to begin at eight. At six o’clock, a taxicab pulled up outside the house. Emily had been with her mother in the dining room, debating the arrangement of food on the buffet table. They looked up at the sound of tyres crunching on gravel.
“Now, who could that be as early as this?” Mrs Bryce said. “Not a tradesman’s van. Surely it’s not a guest who has the time wrong? Oh Lord. And neither of us dressed yet.”
Someone was emerging from the back door of the cab—someone in a nurse’s uniform. Emily gave a little squeal of delight. “It’s Clarissa!” she shouted, and rushed to the front door. Her best friend stood there looking rather pale, her dark hair shorn into a bob and her brown eyes seeming larger than ever in that white face, but she opened her arms and rushed to embrace Emily.
“You sly thing!” Emily exclaimed. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? When you didn’t respond to my invitation, I feared that you couldn’t get away.”
“My dear, I didn’t know myself that I was coming until yesterday,” Clarissa said. “We were waiting for replacements who didn’t arrive, and there was no way I could leave without them. But then, at the last moment, a lorry with two new doctors and three new nurses appeared. What a godsend. And the sister in charge said that I could be spared, as long as I came straight back. So I only have three days. This evening with you and then up to my parents tomorrow. And I have to warn you that I’ve nothing suitable to wear. I was sure you’d have something . . .”
