Nevertheless, the German advance caused a great deal of panic on the British-held side of the front-line. A number of airfields were hastily evacuated for safety.
Perys’s squadron moved first to St Pol, then, when the German advance ground to a halt, it was re-sited on an airfield a few miles to the west of Amiens.
For a while, the fighting on the ground almost ceased as the Germans sought to consolidate their gains, but in the air it increased in intensity, both sides suffering heavy losses in men land machines.
In April 1918 one of the greatest pilots of the war was killed. German ‘Ace’ Baron Manfred von Richthofen, with eighty confirmed victories to his name, was himself shot down.
Not until late May did a spell of bad weather bring about a temporary lull in the savage air war.
Rupert had returned to the squadron some weeks before and he now decided the pilots of his squadron should have a night out together - in Amiens.
The idea was put to them over lunch and it received an enthusiastic response.
‘Good!’ declared Rupert. ‘I’ll lay on the transport, but does anyone know Amiens? Is there somewhere we could be guaranteed a good evening?’
There was silence for a few moments, then Perys remembered Gabrielle. ‘Does anyone know the Restaurant Eugenie?’ he asked.
His question provoked shouts and whistles from a number of the pilots and one of the young lieutenants commented, ‘It’s probably the best-known restaurant in this part of France. Good food, fine wine, hot music - and even hotter women!’
The acclaim that greeted this assessment of the Restaurant Eugenie decided the issue.
‘Right,’ Rupert said, ‘I will telephone the restaurant now and make sure they can accommodate thirty noisy, thirsty pilots.’ Giving Perys a quizzical look, he added, ‘One day you can tell me how you learned of such an establishment.’
* * *
The pilots travelled to Amiens in two lorries, into which Rupert had thoughtfully placed a number of crates of beer.
He travelled in the cab of one of the lorries and, as senior flight commander, Perys travelled in the other. The laughter and singing in the back of both vehicles was an indication that the pilots intended taking full advantage of this rare opportunity to enjoy a celebration.
Had anyone asked them what they were celebrating, they would have received thirty different answers. The only reply that would not have been given was the true one. They were celebrating the fact they were still alive. ?
It was enough.
The lorries drew to a halt outside the Restaurant Eugenie and the pilots quickly crowded inside. It was a large establishment by French provincial standards, with a stage on which was assembled a sizeable band. It also boasted a well-stocked bar and a restaurant area in which a number of tables stood empty, awaiting the arrival of the English pilots.
There was also a disproportionate number of waitresses and ‘hostesses’. Dressed provocatively, the latter were eager to share the tables of the pilots and accept drinks which contained very little alcohol, but for which they would receive commission from the restaurant owner.
Perys expected to find Gabrielle among these women, but she was nowhere to be seen. He shared a table with Rupert, the naval flight commander and one of the senior squadron pilots.
It was about fifteen minutes after they arrived that Perys looked up and saw Gabrielle enter the restaurant from a door at the back of the room. She was dressed, not as a hostess, but in a shimmering, pale blue, shoulderless evening dress.
Her entrance was the signal for applause from the restaurant’s customers, but Gabrielle had seen Perys. Hurrying across the room towards him, she cried, ‘Captain Perys! How wonderful to see you.’ Giving him a hug, she presented both cheeks for him to kiss, then beamed at the others. ‘And these are all your friends . . . ’
She encompassed the other pilots with an expansive gesture, smiling at the remarks they Were throwing in Perys’s direction as a result of the familiarity she had shown towards him.
Speaking to Perys, she said, ‘I will sing my first song especially for you. Afterwards, I will sing for your friends.’
It was apparent that Gabrielle was very popular with the customers of the restaurant. A few minutes later, Perys understood why. She had a fine, rich voice that charmed Frenchmen and Englishmen alike.
She sang for perhaps half-an-hour, mixing English and French songs, much to the delight of her audience. When she eventually left the stage to great applause, she came to Perys’s table and sat beside him, giving him a degree of attention that made him the envy of his RFC colleagues.
Perys and Gabrielle chatted for a while before she said to him, ‘Captain Perys, it is so hot in here, would you mind if we went to the garden at the rear of the restaurant? It is where we eat in the summer, but the weather is not yet suitable.’
The couple walked to the French doors at the rear of the restaurant, ignoring the raucous and envious shouts of the pilots, who were consuming wine in vast quantities.
Behind the restaurant they entered a very Pleasant enclosed and paved garden. Closing the door behind them, Gabrielle turned to Perys. ‘I am so happy to see you again. Ever since we parted at Boulogne I have wondered what you were doing. I hoped we would meet again one day - and now here you are.’
As she spoke she moved closer to him until she was looking up into his face. Then, putting her arms about his neck, she kissed him full on the lips. However, when he began to respond, she suddenly moved away.
‘No, Perys, not here and now. I must go back inside and sing once more in a few minutes. Afterwards I will go home. When you see me leave the restaurant, follow me, but do not attempt to speak to me. I will lead you to my home. Once inside the house - ah! There will be no one to see us. Such precautions are for my reputation, you understand?’
‘Of course.’
Gabrielle was a very attractive woman, Perys had no ties, and he had come to Amiens half-hoping to meet with her again.
At that moment, the door through which they had left the restaurant was flung open and a thin, sharp-featured woman stood in the doorway. She gave Perys a withering look, but when she spoke it was to Gabrielle, and in French.
‘What are you doing out here with the Englishman? Do you have no shame?’
‘You are early tonight!’ Gabrielle replied, also in French. ‘I have sung once and came out here to breathe in some fresh air. Had I remained inside I would have been able to do no more than croak like a frog when the time came to sing again.’
‘Is it necessary that you must always have a man with you when you come out into the garden - and that it should be an Englishman?’
‘The English officer is not a complete stranger. We met when I was returning to Amiens after my last visit to my mother in Paris. Surely I told you about it? It was in that very cold weather. The train had no heating, I was shivering and the gallant captain loaned me his greatcoat. He is a true gentleman - and he is a hero, look at his medals.’
The thin woman looked at Perys suspiciously and said, bitterly, ‘My son is a hero too, but now he lies at home in bed, more like a vegetable than a man.’
Although he had been taken aback by Gabrielle’s lies about where they had first met, he said, in perfect French, ‘I am sorry to hear of your son, madame. This war has destroyed the lives of far too many men, but what Gabrielle says is quite true, we have met before. It was then she said that if ever I was in Amiens I must pay a visit to the Restaurant Eugenie. My squadron recently moved here, so when my friends decided we must have a party, I thought it should be here. When Gabrielle and I met again we chatted, but there was so much smoke in the restaurant she needed to come out here for some air before she sang again. It was my idea that I should accompany her.’
The woman looked at Perys intently for a few moments, then, apparently satisfied, she nodded. ‘It is almost time for Gabrielle to sing again. A drink will await you inside.’
Turning away, she re-entered the resta
urant. When the door had closed behind her Gabrielle said, ‘Madame Navarre owns the Restaurant Eugenie. She does not speak English - but I did not realise you spoke French so well.’
‘And I did not realise we were on a train from Paris.’
Gabrielle smiled at him. ‘I told her I had to go to Paris to see my sick mother. She needed to know nothing more. I must go inside now - but remember what I said earlier. I will not walk too fast for you.’
Perys had not intended to take Gabrielle up on her offer. At least, he wasn’t certain he would. However, by the time she finished singing he had drunk far more wine than he was used to - and she was a very beautiful woman.
She was aware he was following her and when she turned into a house, the door was left ajar. When he entered, she was waiting and greeted him with a kiss that aroused him even more than her singing.
‘We must be quiet,’ she whispered to him, ‘there are others in the house . . . Come.’
He followed her upstairs to a bedroom on the first floor. There was only the light from the sky outside, but it was enough to see the room was untidy, the bed unmade. But then Gabrielle was undressing and all else was quickly forgotten.
Gabrielle’s love-making was more savage than passionate and left him gasping. Afterwards, she began nibbling at his ear and whispered, ‘Your love-making is wonderful, my captain Perys. If I could, I would award you a medal for that.’
It was not long before he was aroused again but, as they were about to make love once more, they both heard the sound of the street door being shut noisily.
Gabrielle sat up as though someone had stuck a pin in her. ‘Quick,’ she gasped, ‘you must dress and go. Hurry - but do not make a sound.’
She leaped from the bed and had a moment of panic when she could not immediately find her dressing-gown. Then she located it on the floor behind the door. Pulling it on hastily, she opened the door quickly and stepped outside, closing it behind her.
She was only just in time. A voice that Perys recognised as belonging to Madame Navarre demanded, ‘You are in bed so soon? Have you been upstairs to see my son?’
‘Of course,’ Gabrielle lied. ‘He was sleeping, so as I was tired, I came to bed.’
‘The place for a wife to go to bed is with her husband. However, I realise he can no longer be the husband you would wish. I will go and see for myself that he is asleep.’
‘I will come with you,’ Gabrielle said, immediately.
‘That will not be necessary,’ Madame Navarre replied.
‘Nevertheless, I will come.’
Outside in the street, Perys hastily checked that he had forgotten nothing in his haste to dress in the darkness of Gabrielle’s room. Then he hurried back to the Restaurant Eugenie, aware that if he was fortunate, he might still ride back to the airfield in one of the lorries.
Later that night, as Rupert and Perys walked back to their respective billets from the lorries that had brought the pilots back to the airfield, Rupert said, ‘I was very surprised when you returned with us tonight. I thought you had gone off with that young French singer and wouldn’t be seen again until morning.’
Perys gave him an amused smile that was lost in the darkness. ‘You know me, Rupert, work comes before pleasure.’
Undressing for the second time that night, this time in his room, Perys thought of what had happened in Amiens. He doubted if he would ever see the lovely Gabrielle again.
He wondered how he would have returned to the airfield had they not been disturbed - or if Gabrielle’s mother-in-law had not made so much noise entering the house and had caught them in bed together?
For Gabrielle, making love with him was probably no more than a brief adventure, and one she had undoubtedly embarked upon many times before, with no apparent regard for her maimed husband who was sleeping under the same roof. He wondered whether she would have remained with such a husband had his mother not owned the Restaurant Eugenie.
He compared her conduct with that of Annie. If Polly was to be believed, she had married Jimmy because she would not add mental hurt to the wounds he had received in war.
She had become angry over a kiss she must have known was far more meaningful than a momentary thrill.
Perys fell asleep wondering how different his life might have been had Annie’s morals been more in line with those of Gabrielle . . .
Chapter 67
In the late spring of 1918 life was not easy for Annie. Jimmy was going through a very difficult period of violent mood swings. One day he would be perfectly happy to accompany Annie to Tregassick and take pleasure in the work he was able to do there. The next, he would refuse to leave the house, complaining that life had treated him badly and he was incapable of carrying out even the most simple task.
On one such day, when Jimmy refused even to leave his bed, Annie was tidying the dressing table in the bedroom. Opening a drawer in which she intended placing a cheap crucifix she had worn to a church service the day before, she saw the letters Perys had sent to her after his first visit to Heligan, and which had caused such an upset in the Bray family.
Acting upon a sudden impulse, Annie removed the letters from the drawer and placed them in a pocket in her apron.
Later, downstairs in the kitchen, she took them out and read them until tears welled up in her eyes and she was unable to read on.
She had promised to go to Tregassick and help out with the last of the lambing. She had hoped Jimmy would accompany her, but she was aware from hard-learned experience that in his present mood he would do nothing she asked of him.
Rather than go back to the bedroom, she placed Perys’s letters on a shelf in the kitchen and called up the stairs to let Jimmy know she was leaving the house.
She received no reply and had not been expecting one. When he was in one of his moods he listened only to the voices in his head, voices that could be heard by no one else.
The letters she had just read had unsettled her. Although she tried not to think about it, she could not help wondering what her life would have been like had her father not intercepted the letters.
When she entered the kitchen of Tregassick Farm, Harriet saw immediately that her daughter was unhappy.
‘Jimmy not with you this morning?’ she asked as she busied herself kneading dough with which she would make bread for the farm, with a few loaves left over to sell.
‘He’s not feeling too well this morning. I left him lying in bed. He’ll stay there until he’s feeling better - or fancies getting himself something to eat. Everything’s to hand for him in the kitchen.’
Harriet was aware of what Jimmy’s ‘not feeling too well’ meant and she was unhappy for Annie. In a bid to cheer her up, she said, ‘Go out and look at the three lambs that were born in the night. By the time you come back I’ll have a cup of tea ready. When your pa comes in we’ll have a bit of breakfast.’
After Annie had gone out into the farmyard, Harriet continued kneading dough on the kitchen table, but her mind was on her two children. She thought, bitterly, that each was a prisoner in their own way. Of the two, Martin was probably the more fortunate. When the war came to an end, with victory for Britain and her allies, as it surely must now the United States of America had declared war on Germany, he would be released and return home to a hero’s welcome. There was no such happy prospect in view for Annie. She was not able to look forward to a time when all would be well in her life. She had committed herself to Jimmy ‘in sickness and in health’. Harriet knew her daughter well enough to be aware that it was a vow she had taken seriously.
Annie was gone longer than Harriet had expected, but when she came back to the house she looked happier than when she had left.
Speaking to her mother, she said, ‘When I got to the barn one of the ewes was giving birth. She had a bit of trouble so I helped her. She’s had not one but two healthy lambs.’
‘Good for you, Annie. Your pa will be well pleased. He’s relying on the sheep to bring in a little bit of profit for us
. Heaven knows, we could do with some right now.’
She did not add that even the small wage they paid to Annie for helping about the farm was really more than they could afford right now. Annie had enough problems of her own.
‘Here’s your pa coming into the yard now. Tell him about the lambs, it’ll put a smile on his face.’
Somehow, that morning seemed a happier one than usual for Annie. Two more ewes gave birth while she was on the farm. She enjoyed helping them and watching the lambs rise to their feet and take their first, shaky steps.
She was even happy cleaning out the pig-stys, work that Jimmy had learned to do.
At noon, she ceased work and went to the farmhouse kitchen to collect hot pasties to take to the cottage as a midday meal for Jimmy and herself.
She was there talking to her mother when Harriet peered through the window and said, ‘Are you expecting a visit from Winnie today?’
‘No.’
Following her mother’s gaze, she saw Jimmy’s mother picking her way through the mud of the farmyard, heading for the house.
‘She doesn’t look very happy,’ remarked Harriet.
‘She never does,’ Annie replied, with glum resignation. ‘It’s usually because she doesn’t think I’m looking after Jimmy properly. I’d better go out and meet her.’
But there was something in Winnie Rowe’s walk that caused Harriet to say, ‘No, let her come inside the house. If she has something to say to you she can say it in front of me.’
There was nothing unusual in the fact that Winnie came into the kitchen without knocking, but Harriet had been right in thinking she was visiting the farm looking for trouble. Winnie wasted no time before launching into an attack on Annie.
‘I thought I’d find you here instead of where you ought to be - at home, looking after your husband.’
‘Someone has to earn money if we’re to keep food in the house,’ Annie retorted. ‘If he’d got out of bed this morning he’d be here with me. Anyway, I’m just on my way home with some pasties for dinner. Do you want me to bring an extra one for you?’
The Lost Years Page 33
