by Lily Baxter
‘You’re lucky to be alive, darling. You just need more time to recuperate and once you get back on your feet there’ll be no stopping you.’
Anthea returned carrying a tray of tea which she placed carefully on the table in front of Elsie. ‘There. What do you think of that? I even remembered to put the milk in a jug instead of leaving it in the bottle.’
‘Thank you,’ Elsie said, chuckling. ‘You’ll be housewife of the year. Have you set the date yet?’
Anthea picked up the teapot and strained the tea into a cup, adding a dash of milk and passing it to Elsie before she answered. ‘Actually, that’s why I came home this weekend. We’re getting married in the village church next Saturday and I wanted you both to be there.’
Elsie and Felicia exchanged surprised glances. ‘I’d love to, but I don’t think I could make it all the way to Norfolk,’ Elsie murmured.
‘And I start rehearsals for my new part on Monday,’ Felicia added with a rueful smile. ‘Honestly, darling, there’s nothing I’d like better, but with transport as it is nowadays I’d find it difficult to do in a day, and I go on stage the following Monday.’
‘Of course,’ Anthea said hastily. ‘I do understand. It’s difficult for Mummy to get away too and Daddy doesn’t approve of wartime marriages so he’s refused to give me away.’ She sipped her wine, eyeing them over the rim of her glass. ‘Actually, they don’t approve of David and they’ve both refused to come.’
‘Why?’ Felicia demanded. ‘That doesn’t sound like my brother. It’s Pamela who’s the snob. I’m sorry, darling, but you know it’s true.’
‘I thought they’d be different because David is a pilot, but his father is a butcher and his mother is a piano teacher. Apparently they don’t match up to my parents’ expectations.’
‘I’ll have a few words to say to Arnold,’ Felicia said crossly. ‘I thought better of him.’
‘I’m so sorry.’ Elsie put her cup down with a clatter. ‘I’d give anything to be there, but I can only just make it as far as the bathroom without my legs giving way.’
‘I understand.’ Anthea made an attempt at a smile. ‘It would have been lovely to have you both there, but I can see it’s out of the question.’
‘I could happily strangle my brother for being so pig-headed.’ Felicia exhaled smoke like an angry dragon. ‘You’re his only daughter, for heaven’s sake.’
‘Don’t get upset, Auntie. That’s just the way he is.’
Felicia downed the rest of her wine in one gulp. ‘I’m afraid it’s out of the question for us to make it to Norfolk, but could you and David get to London? I know a church wedding is probably what you want, but there’s always the register office.’
‘I suppose we could, since no one in my family seems interested,’ Anthea said thoughtfully. ‘David has three days’ leave and so have I.’
‘That’s settled then.’ Felicia seized the wine bottle and refilled their glasses. ‘We’ll drink to that. Leave the arrangements to me, darling. You’ll have a wedding to remember and I’ll give Arnold a piece of my mind when I next see him, the pompous idiot.’ She raised her glass. ‘Here’s to you and David.’
Anthea drank the toast and settled back on the sofa with a contented smile. ‘I knew I could rely on you, Auntie.’
‘Do you think his parents will come?’ Felicia asked with a mischievous smile. ‘A butcher in the family would be such an asset in these days of rationing. I can’t remember the last time I had a fillet steak.’
The weekend was spent making arrangements for Anthea’s wedding. Elsie was caught up in the whirl of excitement that Felicia managed to generate. The newspapers were filled with accounts of the Germans’ attempts at crossing the River Marne and the counterattacks by the French, followed by those of the British and American armies. But the war was not yet over, and the temporary halt of the German army was overshadowed by the huge losses that had been suffered and were yet to come. The best they could do was to put a brave face on things and pray that the end would be soon.
Anthea returned to duty on Monday, having promised to invite David’s parents to the wedding, and to pass on Felicia’s offer to put them up for the weekend. Felicia herself left for the theatre, leaving Elsie a list of instructions which she must carry out that day. She had to telephone the register office to confirm the booking for one o’clock on the following Saturday, then there were flowers to order and a booking to be made for the wedding breakfast at a hotel where the newly weds would spend their one-night honeymoon. The menu would be severely restricted due to food rationing which had been introduced while Elsie was in France, but she did not think that would bother anyone, least of all Anthea and David. Elsie was happy for them, but her heart ached for Guy and in her low moments she wondered if she would ever see him again.
She had just put the telephone receiver down when Gerda entered the room bringing her a cup of tea. ‘I thought you could do with this since you’ve been left with all the work, but it is exciting, isn’t it? I love weddings.’
Elsie took the cup from her with a grateful smile. ‘Thank you, Gerda. You’re a treasure. I don’t know how we’d manage without you.’
Gerda hesitated, staring down at her clasped hands. ‘I was going to tell Miss Wilby first, but she was so busy I didn’t get a chance.’
‘What is it, Gerda? You’re not ill, are you?’
‘No. I’m very well.’ Gerda unclasped her hands to reveal an engagement ring. ‘It’s not like Miss Anthea’s but it’s all that Niels could afford.’
‘Niels? You have a boyfriend, Gerda? You kept that quiet.’
Gerda’s cheeks flushed bright pink. ‘We’re both in the social club organised by Mr Johnson. I mean, Joe. The vicar insists that we call him by his Christian name.’
‘You are a dark horse, Gerda.’ Elsie could see by her puzzled expression that Gerda was not familiar with the saying. ‘I mean, you kept that a secret. Is Niels from Belgium? ’
‘Yes, he came to England at the beginning of the war with his mother and sister. They’re from a village close to where I was born.’
‘I’m very happy for you, Gerda. Have you known him long?’
‘We met last summer at a picnic that Joe organised for the children in Victoria Park,’ Gerda said eagerly. ‘After that we saw each other on my afternoons off and sometimes we went to the music hall. Niels likes the theatre and I was hoping Miss Wilby might give us tickets to see her on stage.’
‘I’m sure she will.’ Elsie stood up to give Gerda a hug. ‘Congratulations. I’d love to meet your fiancé.’
‘Would you really? I mean he’s not a pilot like Miss Anthea’s gentleman. Niels is a plumber and he lives in Hackney.’
‘Of course I’d like to meet him. As soon as I’m fit enough to use public transport I’ll come to one of the social gatherings in Hackney, and you can introduce us.’
Gerda beamed with pleasure. ‘I’d like that.’ She bustled out of the room with a spring in her step.
Elsie went back to her list but she found herself wondering what would have happened had she accepted Guy’s ring that sunny afternoon in Lyons teashop. She sighed and reached for the telephone directory: there were important matters to arrange, and it was no use thinking of what might have been.
Anthea’s wedding was a quiet affair with just Felicia, Elsie and Gerda attending the register office. David’s parents were unable to find anyone to look after the shop at such short notice, but they promised to organise a get-together of all the Foster relatives as soon as the young couple had leave, and were obviously delighted to welcome Anthea into the family. Anthea’s parents remained aloof, although Arnold Wilby sent his daughter a cheque, which she opened along with greetings telegrams after the meal in the hotel. ‘That much!’ She passed it to David.
Felicia glanced over his shoulder. ‘Guilty conscience,’ she said tersely. ‘My brother deserves a smacked derriere, and Pamela is a silly snob. I’m sorry, Anthea, but it’s only the truth.’ She drain
ed her champagne glass and placed it on the table, waiting for a refill.
‘I’m sure they’ll come round in time,’ Elsie said hastily. ‘Everything is upside down in wartime.’
David put his arm around his bride’s shoulders. ‘Don’t worry, darling. They won’t be able to resist the Foster charm when I eventually get to meet them.’
Elsie raised her glass. ‘I’ll drink to that.’ She had taken to David the moment they met. He was not exactly a dashing hero and no one could describe him as handsome, but he had a nice smile and he was obviously head over heels in love with Anthea. They were at ease with each other and shared a similar sense of humour, and Elsie could see them living happily ever after. But even on such a happy occasion it was impossible to forget that they were still at war. There was hardly a table where one of the guests was not in uniform, and some of the younger men bore scars that would be with them for the rest of their lives.
Anthea leaned her head against David’s shoulder. ‘I don’t care what anyone says or thinks. This is the happiest day of my life, and no one is going to take that away from me.’
‘Mine too.’ David raised his glass. ‘To my beautiful bride, and to Felicia and Elsie, not forgetting Gerda, who all worked so hard to make this day perfect.’
Felicia drained her glass in one swallow. ‘And now, I think we should leave you to enjoy what little time you have together.’ She glanced at Elsie. ‘Besides which, this is Elsie’s first outing and we don’t want her to have a relapse.’
‘I’m perfectly fine, Felicia.’ Elsie rose from her seat, feeling pleasantly light-headed from the effects of the champagne. ‘You will invite us to your party in Yarmouth, won’t you?’
David stood up. ‘Of course we will. A few days on the bracing Norfolk coast will do you the world of good.’ He turned to Felicia. ‘I can’t thank you enough, Aunt Felicia.’
She recoiled with a shudder. ‘Don’t you dare call me aunt, it makes me feel a hundred and one. I’ve told Anthea about it often enough. It’s Felicia from now on. Just Felicia.’
‘Felicia,’ he repeated, brushing her cheek with his lips.
Anthea embraced everyone, including Gerda, but Felicia cut her short when she started to thank them all over again. ‘We’re off, darling. It was lovely but I know when to make an exit, stage left.’
Outside the hotel the doorman hailed a taxi and they piled into it, giggling like schoolgirls. The merry mood lasted until they reached Cromwell Road, but the laughter died on their lips as they entered the building and were met by a serious-faced Bailey. He handed Elsie a telegram.
Chapter Twenty-Four
ELSIE’S KNEES BUCKLED beneath her and she collapsed onto the chair in Bailey’s cubbyhole. Felicia took the telegram from her nerveless hand. ‘Shall I open it?’
Elsie nodded wordlessly. Her heart was hammering inside her chest and the blood pounded in her ears. Telegrams meant one thing in wartime. She held her breath.
‘I’ll go upstairs and put the kettle on,’ Gerda said, making for the stairs.
‘Shall I fetch a glass of water?’ Bailey asked anxiously.
Felicia ripped the envelope and took out the telegram with a shaking hand. ‘It’s not Guy. Can you hear me, Elsie? It’s not Guy.’
‘Thank God,’ Elsie gasped. Relief gave way to curiosity. ‘What does it say? Who sent it?’
‘It’s from Marianne. It’s Henri, I’m afraid. He was killed in action. I’m so sorry, Elsie.’
‘Henri’s dead?’ Elsie struggled to grasp the fact. In her mind’s eye she could see Marianne and Henri on their wedding day. It had been such a happy occasion, similar to the one they had just witnessed.
‘Let me help you upstairs, Elsie. You need a good strong cup of tea and I could do with a tot of brandy for the shock. Bailey, be a good chap and take her other arm. You look as though you need a drink too.’
‘Poor Marianne,’ Elsie murmured as they helped her to her feet. ‘I can only imagine how she must be feeling.’
‘Marianne will be well looked after,’ Felicia said firmly. ‘Come along, Elsie. Best foot forward. You won’t help Marianne by falling apart. She’ll need family and friends more than ever with the baby on the way.’
‘I know she gets on well with Henri’s parents, but they’ll be more concerned about their own feelings than Marianne’s.’
‘Give them credit for a bit of human kindness,’ Felicia said sternly. ‘Marianne is carrying their son’s child. Of course they’ll take care of her. Come along now. Let’s get you upstairs.’
With Elsie safely ensconced in an armchair Felicia opened the cocktail cabinet and took out the last of the Calvados. Bailey was lingering in the doorway and he cleared his throat, staring at Felicia until she remembered that she had offered him a drink. She poured a tot for herself and handed him a glass, which he downed in one go. ‘Ta, Miss Wilby. That’s warmed the cockles of me heart.’ He tipped his cap and left them, passing Gerda as she hurried into the room with a tray of tea.
Elsie sat back in her chair and let them fuss round her, but all she could think of was Marianne and how she must be suffering. She wished with all her heart that she could be there to comfort her, but independent travel was virtually impossible. Had she been fit she would have re-joined her unit, but that too was out of the question.
The best she could do was to concentrate on regaining her health and strength, and she set out to do just that. She forced herself to eat the plain but nourishing meals prepared by Gerda, and she exercised daily. At first she went for short walks but she pushed herself to the limit, gradually increasing the pace and distance.
In the weeks that followed, Felicia was absorbed in her work at the theatre, coming home late every evening and sleeping until late next day. As a result Elsie saw very little of her and Gerda was there in body, but her mind was clearly on other things. She went about in a dreamy state, and spent all her free time making plans for her wedding to Niels. Elsie was bored and she was lonely, and she wanted desperately to return to work, but when she attended an interview at the headquarters of the nursing yeomanry she was given a medical and advised to wait for another three months before re-applying. She returned to the flat feeling let down and despondent. The summer was coming to an end and she needed to do something other than sit around the flat all day.
She had accompanied Gerda to Hackney on several occasions and met Niels, who she decided was a thoroughly decent young man and obviously devoted to Gerda. She visited Joe Johnson and his wife, who were both delighted to see her, but the Belgian refugees were now settled and most of them spoke perfect English so her services were no longer needed.
She could have volunteered to drive a bus or work in the Post Office or on the railways, but she was determined to re-join the services in one way or another, and her main objective was to be sent back to France so that she could be there for Marianne when her baby arrived. There was one avenue left to her and on a warm morning in early September, dressed in a businesslike navy-blue shantung blouse and skirt with a matching straw hat perched on top of her bobbed hair, Elsie set off for Whitehall and Room 40.
She had to wait for over an hour, seated on a hard wooden chair in a corridor with people bustling past her as if she were invisible. Finally, when she thought she had been forgotten, she was shown into the hallowed office of Edith Lomax.
‘Take a seat, Miss Mead.’ Edith steepled her hands, and gazed at Elsie with raised eyebrows. ‘What can I do for you?’
‘I contracted Spanish flu,’ Elsie said simply. ‘I was one of the lucky ones who survived and I was sent home to recuperate. I’m well now but when I applied to re-join my unit in France I was told it would be another three months before they considered me fit enough to return to duty.’
Edith angled her head. ‘Are you’re asking me to take you on again as a translator?’
‘I’ll do anything. I’ll serve in the canteen or scrub floors if you’ll let me.’ Elsie eyed her warily. ‘Or I could go back to th
e rue Saint-Roch. I know my way round Paris and …’
‘And you want to be near your good friend Marianne Bellaire, whose husband was killed at the Marne.’
‘You know about that?’
‘It’s my business to know everything about the people who work for the department. As a matter of fact I was about to get in touch with you, and you’ve saved me a telephone call.’
‘You wanted to speak to me?’ Elsie stared at her in surprise. ‘May I ask why?’
‘Marianne might have left the service because she is expecting a child, but she is still in Paris, and is now a potential security risk.’
‘I don’t understand. Why is she a risk? Marianne would die rather than betray her country.’
‘She is in a vulnerable position because of the knowledge she possesses. The Germans were caught on the back foot at the Marne, but they’re not beaten yet and they’re not going to give up easily. Marianne knows the names and details of many of our agents, which we don’t want to fall into enemy hands, but now she is a French citizen and as such is beyond the jurisdiction of the British government. Do you understand what I’m saying?’
‘You want her brought home?’
‘Exactly, and who better to perform such a task than her good friend Elsie Mead?’
‘You’ll send me to Paris?’
‘Give me a couple of days in which to have the necessary papers prepared and you may consider yourself back in the employ of the British secret service, but it will be for this one task only. Bring Marianne safely back to England whether she wants to come or not.’
‘I think she will. In fact I’m sure she will, especially if her baby is in danger.’
‘Report here in two days’ time. Everything will be arranged.’ Edith stood up and extended her hand. ‘Marianne is lucky to have a friend like you.’
Wearing the uniform of a nurse in the Voluntary Aid Detachment Elsie travelled to France on a hospital ship and then by hospital train from Calais to Paris. It was surprisingly straightforward, especially when compared to the journey she and Marianne had undertaken when they left Paris for an unknown destination and ended up in Brussels.
