by Lily Baxter
He inclined his head. ‘I only arrived back in England a few days ago. I went straight to Darcy Hall and my brother told me that Marianne was working in London and this was the address he gave me, although they had lost touch. My sister-in-law, who loves to gossip, told me that you’d accompanied her to London.’
‘That’s not exactly true, sir.’ Elsie took off her hat and gloves and laid them on a side table. ‘I couldn’t find work locally so I came to London of my own accord. It was by chance that I met Marianne again.’
‘I see. Well, Josephine is inclined to get things wrong. Anyway, I haven’t heard from Marianne for a very long time and I’m worried.’
‘Won’t you sit down, sir? Perhaps you’d like some tea?’
‘No, thank you.’ He hesitated, clearing his throat noisily. ‘Marianne was never a good correspondent, but I really do need to contact her.’
‘That might be difficult, sir.’
‘I have some sad news that I need to tell her in person.’
‘It’s not up to me to divulge her whereabouts, sir. I’m sorry.’
He sank down on a chair by the empty grate. ‘I wouldn’t ask, but this is something that can’t wait. Please tell me where I might contact my daughter.’
His obvious distress went straight to her heart and she relented. ‘I don’t suppose I should be telling you this, but Marianne is in Paris, and she’s doing top secret work. That’s all I can say.’
He recoiled as if she had struck him across the face, and making a quick recovery he threw back his head and laughed. ‘Marianne is working for Military Intelligence?’
She laid her finger on her lips, glancing at the open door, but there was no sign of Gerda. ‘Not so loud, sir. It really is hush-hush.’
‘You seem to know a lot about it.’
‘I was with Marianne in Paris. We worked together, but we became separated and I returned home. Now I work at the War Office as a translator.’
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound patronising, Elsie. It’s rather a shock to return to England after all these years abroad to find that my only child is employed by the secret service.’
Elsie crossed the floor to the cocktail cabinet and took out the bottle of Calvados that Felicia had brought back from her last trip to France. There was not much left but she poured a generous measure into a brandy glass and handed it to the colonel. ‘Marianne is hardly a child now, sir. She’s a woman with a mind of her own, but as far as I know she’s safe and well.’
‘Thank you.’ He took the glass from her and sipped the fiery apple brandy. ‘Won’t you join me, Elsie?’
She shook her head. ‘I’ve been travelling all day and I haven’t eaten for hours. It would go straight to my head. Will you be staying for supper? I’m sure that Gerda could rustle something up, although it won’t be much.’
‘Thank you, but I should be getting back to my hotel.’ He took another sip of his drink. ‘I must see Marianne …’ He hesitated, staring into the glass. ‘It’s a personal matter.’
‘I’m afraid I can’t help you any further, sir.’
He raised his head. ‘A few weeks ago my wife contracted a particularly virulent form of malaria. I need to see Marianne to tell her of her mother’s death.’
‘I’m so sorry.’
‘It was very sudden, and a terrible shock. I didn’t want to send a telegram, and anyway the only address I had for my daughter was Darcy Hall.’ He drained his glass. ‘You of all people will understand how much this will affect Marianne.’
‘I know how I felt when Ma died.’
‘My sister-in-law was eager to fill me in on everything that had happened since I was last in Sutton Darcy. I’m sorry for your loss, my dear. Your mother was a lovely woman. I knew her well, as I did your father, of course.’
Elsie nodded wordlessly.
‘I need to break the news to Marianne in person, if only to make up for the years when I wasn’t there to be a father to her.’ He bowed his head. ‘Maybe it’s too late, but I must try.’
‘I think she’s staying in the Bellaires’ apartment in the rue de l’Echelle,’ Elsie said softly.
He breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Thank you, that’s all I need to know. Now all I have to do is persuade the powers that be to give me a command in France. I put in for a transfer while I was still in Delhi and I intend to follow it up vigorously. I still have a few friends in high places.’
‘So you’ll go to Paris and see Marianne?’
‘I will.’ He rose to his feet. ‘I’ll keep your name out of this, so don’t worry.’ He held out his hand. ‘Your mother would be proud of you if she could see you now.’
‘And my father too, I hope.’ She placed her hand in his and he held it in a warm grasp.
‘Corporal Mead was a good man and a good soldier.’
Elsie had just seen the colonel off when the telephone shrilled, making her jump. She glanced at the elegant grandmother clock in the entrance hall and frowned. It was half past nine at night, rather late for a social call, and she was tired. She hurried into the drawing room and picked up the receiver. ‘Hello.’
‘Elsie darling, I’m sorry to ring so late, but I’ve only just come off duty.’
The sound of his voice made her spirits rise and she was suddenly wide awake. ‘Don’t apologise, Guy. You could telephone at midnight and I’d be thrilled to hear your voice.’
‘Darling, I’ll have to be brief. There’s no easy way to tell you this, but I’m being posted abroad.’
‘What?’ The line was crackly and she thought she must have misheard. ‘Say that again, Guy.’
‘I know it’s short notice and I can’t tell you anything more over the phone, but I’ll be aide de camp to the colonel of my old regiment.’
‘But you promised you wouldn’t risk your life again. You’ve done enough, Guy.’
‘I can’t sit the war out in relative safety while my friends are risking their necks to bring about the end to this God-awful conflict.’
‘But you’re not fit enough,’ she murmured dazedly.
‘They need trained men, Elsie. I might not be able to fight in the front line but I can still do my bit and prove to myself that I’m not just a pen-pusher. You do understand, don’t you?’
She was about to argue but the pips blared in her ear. ‘Guy, can you hear me?’
‘I’m sorry, darling. I haven’t got any more change …’ The line went dead.
Elsie replaced the receiver, struggling to cope with the idea that Guy would be mad enough to want to return to the battlefield. No matter what he said she knew that he would face the same dangers as the rest of his brigade. She sat down in the chair so recently vacated by Colonel Winter, staring into the empty grate. She shivered, but it was too late to light a fire and anyway it would be a shocking waste of coal. Suddenly she was angry. Men had it all their own way, leaving women to pick up the pieces. Guy had almost given his life for his country once and now he seemed to be prepared to do it all over again.
She jumped to her feet, pacing the room with her hands clasped tightly behind her back. Felicia was doing her bit in France or Flanders and Anthea was whizzing around the country on her motorcycle, doing something active and worthwhile. Their efforts made sitting in a comfortable office translating documents into English seem quite feeble. She looked up as Gerda put her head round the door. ‘Is there anything I can get for you, miss?’
Elsie shook her head. ‘No, thank you, Gerda. I’m fine.’
‘Goodnight, miss.’
‘Goodnight, Gerda.’
The door closed again, leaving Elsie sitting in a pool of lamplight. The shadows in the room deepened but her thoughts were miles away. Perhaps she might be allowed to return to Paris and the rue Saint-Roch? It might be worth putting out some feelers when she returned to work next day. There must be something she could do that would satisfy her need to be proactive and useful. The Mead women, she thought wryly, were not used to sitting back and doing nothing. Ma w
as a soldier’s wife and she would have urged her on. Elsie rose slowly to her feet and went to her room.
She went to work next day determined to make changes. There had been a woman driving the bus that took her from Cromwell Road to Whitehall, and a woman conductress had taken her fare and issued her with a ticket. The Red Cross and St John Ambulance had posted advertisements everywhere, calling for young women to join the Voluntary Aid Detachment as nurses, cooks, clerks, laundresses and motor drivers, but Elsie knew that this involved months of training or qualifications that she did not possess. She had not had the opportunity to learn to drive like Marianne, and she was not a trained nurse, nor was she a typist and she would not know where to begin in a laundry room.
She sat at her desk, toying with the idea of applying for a job in the munitions factory at Woolwich, but she did not want to make weapons that would destroy lives, even if the bombs and shells were aimed at the enemy. She chewed the end of her pencil, frowning at the print on the document in front of her, until eventually she received a sharp reprimand from her supervisor for daydreaming. It was not much of a dream, she thought, focusing her eyes on the page. She just wanted to do something useful, and above all she wanted to return to France. The meeting with Jens and Yannick had made her think even more of Valentine and Hendrick and their heroic efforts to save lives. She wanted to be worthy of them, but she was at a loss as to how to set about it.
At lunchtime she was in the crowded canteen, toying with a bread roll and staring into a bowl of brown Windsor soup, when she saw Edith Lomax approaching her table. ‘It’s Miss Mead, isn’t it?’
Elsie half rose from her seat. ‘Yes, Miss Lomax.’
‘Do you mind if I join you? The canteen seems rather busy today.’
‘Please do.’ Elsie shifted her chair a little to the right, and Edith took the seat next to her.
‘How are you getting on now that you’re back in London?’
Elsie stared at her in surprise. ‘It’s all right, Miss Lomax.’
‘You’re surprised that I have such information at my fingertips,’ Edith said, smiling. ‘I’ve had good reports about you, and it’s my job to know everything. I understand how you feel now.’
‘You do?’
‘I was young once, and like you I thought I could change the world, or at least do something to make a difference. I imagine that being deskbound is no substitute for the involvement you experienced previously.’
‘I was grateful to be given my old job,’ Elsie said tactfully.
‘But it’s not enough.’ Edith tasted her soup and pulled a face. ‘Dishwater. I know food is scarce but this is a travesty.’ She pushed her plate away and broke her roll into small pieces which she buttered carefully. ‘You’d like your old job back in Paris?’
‘Oh, I would,’ Elsie said earnestly.
‘But I’m afraid that’s not possible. It would be too dangerous for you and for Marianne to send you to Paris.’
‘She’s not in trouble, is she?’
‘Far from it, but I can’t allow you to return there. However, I might be able to arrange for you to have an interview with a friend of mine. You’ve heard of the FANYs, no doubt.’
‘The First Aid Nursing Yeomanry? Yes, of course, but I’m not a nurse.’
‘Can you drive a motor car or ride a horse?’
‘I’m afraid not.’
Edith eyed her thoughtfully. ‘But you’re bilingual, that might help, and no doubt you could learn to handle a motor vehicle, given the right training.’
‘Are you suggesting that I learn to drive so that I can join the FANYs?’
‘Exactly.’ Edith pushed her plate away. ‘I think I might try the cottage pie, although it will be more potato than anything.’
‘Do you think there’s a chance I might be able to get this qualification?’
‘It could be arranged. I hate to see a promising young woman held back by something that could so easily be remedied.’ Edith Lomax rose gracefully to her feet. ‘Leave it with me, Elsie. I have contacts and I might be able to help. You’re no use to me if your heart isn’t in your work.’ She strolled off to join the queue at the counter, leaving Elsie staring after her.
It all happened so quickly. After a brief interview, which she thought she had failed miserably, Elsie received a letter telling her that she had been accepted as a probationer in the First Aid Nursing Yeomanry, and given instructions to attend a Royal Army Medical Corps camp in Surrey for her initial training. But first she had to purchase her uniform from Gamage’s store in Holborn. This took all the money she had managed to save from her wages, but she did not begrudge a penny of it.
She arrived at the camp in Surrey on a blustery morning in late January. The sentry studied her papers and directed her to an office where she found three other new recruits, all looking as apprehensive as she was feeling. To her astonishment one of the girls leapt to her feet and embraced her. ‘Elsie! I can’t believe it’s you.’
‘Rosemary?’ Elsie stared at her in disbelief. ‘Have you joined up too?’
‘I’ll say I have. Isn’t that a scream? You and I – back together again after all this time.’ She turned to the other two girls. ‘This is my old friend, Elsie Mead, can you believe it? We shared a room at the beginning of the war.’
‘Who would have thought it?’ The elder of the two girls stood up, proffering her hand to Elsie. ‘How do you do? I’m Angela Braithwaite.’
Elsie shook her hand. ‘Elsie Mead. I’m pleased to meet you, Angela.’
Angela dragged the other girl to her feet. ‘And this shrinking violet is Daisy Coleman. Say hello, Daisy.’
Daisy shook her off with a mild protest. ‘Really, Angela, I can speak for myself.’ She shook Elsie’s hand. ‘How do you do, Elsie? I think we must all be a bit crazy to be here in the first place, but welcome anyway.’
Slightly dazed, Elsie allowed them to usher her to a seat. ‘I can’t believe you’ve signed up too, Rosemary.’
‘I was tired of working in the Baker Street office, and I wanted to do something a bit more exciting. I’d heard of the FANYs, of course, but I thought they were all stuck-up toffs.’ She shot an apologetic smile in Angela’s direction. ‘Sorry, no offence meant.’
‘None taken, darling,’ Angela said carelessly. ‘I’d have joined up sooner but for the stupid rule that one had to be twenty-three. Twenty-one I could understand, but I don’t think that being two years older makes any of us wiser or more competent.’
‘Don’t get on your high horse,’ Daisy said, laughing. ‘You’ll get used to Angie, girls. She flies off the handle and gets very militant, but she’s a jolly good sort really.’
‘We were at school together,’ Angela added, as if this explained everything. ‘Cheltenham Ladies’ College.’
‘Really?’ Elsie looked from one to the other, not wanting to admit that she had no idea whether that was a good or a bad thing.
Rosemary slipped her arm around Elsie’s shoulders. ‘So what have you been doing since I last saw you?’
‘I’ve had an office job,’ Elsie said vaguely. ‘Nothing very exciting.’
‘I can’t wait to start training,’ Angela said enthusiastically. ‘And then hopefully we’ll be sent on active duty.’
‘It’s four months’ probation, don’t forget.’ Daisy sat down with a sigh. ‘I’m afraid the war will be over before we can do anything really useful.’
Angela opened her mouth as if to argue but she closed it again when a military man burst into the room. He snapped to attention, glaring at each of them in turn. ‘Good morning, ladies. I’m Sergeant Pepper and I’m going to be your chief instructor for the next two weeks. Just think of me as God and you won’t go wrong. Don’t think this is going to be a picnic on the Downs. You are going to work harder than you’ve ever worked before. Now who among you can drive a motor vehicle?’
Elsie and Rosemary shook their heads but Angela leapt to her feet. ‘I can, sergeant, and so can my friend Daisy. I’
ve raced at Brooklands.’
Sergeant Pepper gave her a steady look. ‘I don’t think that’s going to be much help when you’re driving a field ambulance in the Flanders mud, miss.’ He clapped his hands together. ‘Leave your luggage here, ladies, and come with me. We’ll start right away.’
That evening, seated round a camp fire outside their tent, Elsie’s hands were shaking with fatigue as she sipped her tea. Every bone in her body ached and her head was spinning from the information that she had tried to absorb during the day. Rosemary was groaning softly as she tried to make herself comfortable on the frozen turf, but Angela seemed oblivious to the cold and the torments of the flesh as she recounted stories of her exploits at mountaineering in the Scottish highlands, and captaining the hockey team at Cheltenham. Daisy sat back with her eyes closed and allowed it all to wash over her.
‘I can’t see why we have to have riding lessons,’ Rosemary complained, rubbing the small of her back. ‘We’re not going to be riding horses at the front.’
‘I suppose we might have to,’ Elsie said reasonably. ‘I mean, there might still be horse-drawn ambulances and carts over there. We don’t know what we’re going to face.’
‘Everyone should know how to ride.’ Angela took a packet of cigarettes from her jacket pocket and offered them round. ‘What? None of you smoke? I bet you will after you’ve been at the sharp end for a month or two.’ She struck a match and lit her cigarette. ‘I can’t wait to see action, although I’m not keen on the blood and guts business. I’m not a nurse, as I told Sergeant Pepper, and I’m not a cook. I doubt if we’ll use half the things they’re trying to teach us.’
‘It’s bandaging tomorrow,’ Daisy said with an impish smile. ‘You’ll probably make your patient look like an Egyptian mummy.’
‘I never pretended to be good with my hands.’ Angela tossed her head and pins flew in all directions as her long red hair escaped from the confines of a chignon. ‘Blasted hair,’ she said angrily. ‘I wish now I’d had it bobbed like yours, Elsie.’
