Send Me Safely Back Again

by Adrian Goldsworthy

  He suspected his modest sister had blushed to write the last word.

  He says it is terrible and so we were worried and then we were more frightened when you sent no word and your regiment told us that you were not with them and your ship was missing so that no one knew whether or not you were safe and sound. Mama had a very kind letter from Major MacAndrews saying that we should not be concerned and that he would write as soon as news arrived and also to say that you were so very gallant during the war and won praises from the general before that poor man fell like a hero in defence of our country. We were all so very proud of you and I wished all the more to see you and kiss my fine brother. And so we worried and fretted. Mama worried most of all . . .

  Williams wondered a little about that.

  . . . although she put the bravest of faces on it and no one who did not know her well would have realised.

  That he could certainly believe, for Mrs Williams, widowed at a young age and left to raise her children as best she could, was most skilful at masking whatever emotions she felt.

  And then came that glorious day when your letter arrived and on the very same day one from Major MacAndrews’ wife saying that her husband was busy about his duties, but that she wishes us to hear the good news without delay so took the liberty of writing to us herself.

  Esther MacAndrews was a formidable lady and he could well believe her impatience, but he was extremely grateful for her kindness. His heart hoped that this reflected a favourable disposition towards him on the part of Jane MacAndrews’ parents.

  The rest was small news, recounted in Anne’s breathless and enthusiastic style, and once again he lamented his inability to convince her of the merit of writing in paragraphs. He laid it down, knowing that he would read it again and again as news from home was such a rare and precious thing, and for a while even the minor details of his family’s life in Bristol would fascinate as glimpses of a world left behind.

  Williams opened the second letter, which continued for over a page in the same vein. Kitty and Charlotte, the middle and youngest sisters, each had new bonnets and Mama had managed to find enough money for all three girls to have dancing lessons.

  . . . It is with great anticipation and excitement that we look forward to the chance to attend balls in the summer months.

  There was considerably more on this, with details and even a rough diagram of what they had learned. He skimmed through quickly, although on later readings he would make the most even of such a topic.

  . . . And then we returned home one day from our classes to find Mama receiving visitors in the parlour with her finest china and can you guess who were the two fine ladies who sat with Mama and took tea and some pieces of cake? I am sure you cannot guess, and can you imagine our excitement when Mama presented us to Mrs and Miss MacAndrews and they spoke so very kindly to each of us. I have never seen such elegant and fine and beautiful and well dressed ladies in my whole life. Mrs MacAndrews is taller even than Mama – well you must know this, but imagine my surprise and yet she is like Mama in her poise and bearing so that they almost seemed sisters and so very friendly that I do not think I have heard Mama laugh so much for a long time.

  That was hard to imagine, although Williams conceded that his mother laughed so seldom that perhaps it did not take much to impress his sister. His mind thrilled at the evident goodwill shown by the visit. He dared to hope and his eyes ran along the lines.

  Mrs and Miss MacAndrews were on their way to Bath for the season, where they will be joined by Major MacAndrews when his duty permits.

  Or when he can no longer think of excuses good enough to satisfy his wife, thought Williams.

  It was so wonderful an afternoon and they spoke a little of the war in Spain and the high esteem in which you are held by the regiment. Miss MacAndrews is the most beautiful young lady I have ever seen.

  Williams agreed with that verdict, but was also aware that many things were for the moment ‘the most beautiful’ things Anne had ever seen.

  . . . And she spoke for a very long time to me and to Kitty and Charlotte and praised the bonnets we were wearing which are the ones we made last spring with the ribbons we bought from the market and said how much they became us and how she wished she had fair hair like mine and I said that her own hair was so lovely and surely far finer with its curls and colour. They stayed with us for almost an hour and then said that if we were to come to Bath we should call on them and accompany them to some of the functions and we all thanked them so very much for their kindness and said how very wonderful that would be. . . .

  The letter ended with a series of plans for somehow taking advantage of this offer by accompanying neighbours such as the Baxters or old Mrs Waters, who would surely benefit from ‘taking the waters’ (the joke was underlined three times to make the point) and who ought not to go without a companion or companions.

  Williams finished the letter and tried to get his breath back. It had become such a wonderful day that he ceased to be embarrassed as other officers came in and gave him their congratulations. With the general shortage of funds no great celebration was possible, but they toasted his health and in a moment of weakness he took a glass of port himself and drank it quickly. Euphoria did not prevent his throat from burning and his stomach rebelling at the infusion of alcohol. With the heat of the crowded room he felt nauseous and pushed his way to the door. Outside, in the almost fresh air of the street, he took deep breaths, leaning against the wall.

  Ensign Hatch watched him, a look of pure hatred on his face, which vanished as Williams looked up.

  ‘Congratulations, Lieutenant, sir,’ he said.

  15

  ‘There, at least now I shall not be ashamed.’ Maria walked around behind him, inspecting the new uniform. Williams was not sure whether he ought to feel shame for escorting a known lady of the town to the theatre, but knew that he did not. Judge not, lest ye be judged, he thought to himself.

  ‘Stop grinning like a fool!’ Maria ordered sharply. ‘You are supposed to look like a hero. Now sit down.’

  Williams obeyed.

  ‘Yes, that is good work.’ She ran a finger along the top of his collar, ruffling his fair hair, and the simple gesture instantly put him on edge. Everything about Maria was sensual, and although in the last week their friendship had never extended to greater intimacy, Williams was kept constantly aware that she was a woman. Miss MacAndrews had the same effect on him – perhaps an even more overwhelming one – but he was in love with her and that seemed right. He liked Maria and she was true to her word in instructing him in Portuguese. There was no more than that.

  Now it was her turn to ask for another favour, and as part of this she had insisted on purchasing for him a new uniform. ‘I could not possibly be seen with you as you are,’ she said, and sent him to one of the many Lisbon tailors who now catered for the requirements of British officers. Two days later, the new uniform was waiting for him, and it seemed that it had passed inspection.

  ‘That will do. It is a pity that the cuffs are red and not bright yellow like some others I have seen.’

  ‘It is the colour of my regiment,’ said Williams. The 106th had red facings, so that cuffs and collar matched the rest of the jacket. In keeping with his status as an officer, Williams’ new jacket was made in brighter scarlet than the coats of the ordinary soldiers.

  ‘They should have asked a woman to devise it. Well, too late for that now.’ She walked beside him. ‘These are good.’ For the first time in his life Williams was the owner of the tight-fitting white breeches worn in full dress uniform and a pair of new and highly polished black hessian boots, complete with tassels at the top. The leather was stiff, and it would be a while before they softened enough to be comfortable, but there was something very pleasant about being dressed like the most fashionable of officers.

  ‘Yes, I think this will do. You look almost dashing. It will please his vanity to take me from you.’ Maria planned to capture the affections of a certain Mr
Howarth, who was in Lisbon as part of the British legation and also had an interest in several of the companies under contract to supply the army. Howarth was small, pale and short sighted, but considered himself something of a buck. Maria was sure the man resented the presence of so many handsome men whose uniforms outshone his own civilian finery. ‘Now, you must look as if you desire me above all things.’

  She walked in front of him, the long windows opening on to the balcony behind her. Bright afternoon sunlight streamed into the room. Her white cotton dress was modest, with a high neckline and very little decoration. In the bright sunlight it was also almost transparent. Williams’ eyes widened. He glanced down for an instant, but only for an instant. The curves of her legs and body were all in dark silhouette, stark, clear and very lovely. An image flashed into his mind of Jane MacAndrews, naked after her drenching in the icy river as he tried to stop her from dying of cold, and other images of his ardent dreams. They could not quite blot out the immediacy of the woman in front of him. His nobler affections had little say in the matter.

  ‘Yes, that is a little better,’ said Maria. ‘You may stand up again.’

  Williams did not move. Maria smiled with satisfaction.

  Three hours later, Williams walked Maria into the theatre. Her dress was a brilliant white, with its top for the moment covered in a tight crimson jacket. Her thick black hair was piled high and topped with a black ostrich feather. ‘Your Scottish soldiers sell the ones from their hats to buy wine,’ she explained.

  They had a small box to themselves. He helped her to her seat, dancing attendance upon her with only a little of his accustomed clumsiness. Somehow he did not feel nervous around her, perhaps because this was all an act. He helped her to remove the jacket, revealing a plunging neckline displaying a good deal of her out-thrust bosom. Williams’ throat felt dry.

  ‘At least you will be able to practise your Portuguese,’ she said. ‘Ah, there he is as usual. In the largest box on the far side.’ Williams was surprised to see a younger man than he expected. He was dressed in a light blue jacket and immense kerchief. Howarth was an ill-favoured fellow with an expression ever shifting from disdain to petulance and back again.

  ‘Are you sure you want to bother?’ he asked.

  ‘He is rich,’ she said. ‘And will do for a few weeks.’

  Williams struggled to follow the play. It was clearly a comedy, and he recognised the stern guardian, the dull tutor and the handsome nobleman disguised as a simple student to woo the beautiful maiden. There was also a villainous rival, who wore a hat with a French cockade and a false nose adorned with a wart. The actor was hissed on each appearance.

  Maria was not inclined to explain. ‘Whisper in my ear,’ she commanded. When he did so, she gave a little laugh and fluttered her fan.

  A few minutes later she repeated the instruction. This time her response was to flush. Williams noticed Howarth looking in their direction. He was not the only one, and many of the men kept glancing at his companion.

  ‘Kiss me!’ she ordered.

  ‘I beg your pardon,’ was all he could manage.

  ‘On the cheek, kiss me!’

  ‘I . . .’

  ‘Get on with it, while we have his attention.’

  Williams leaned over and pecked her lightly on the cheek. Maria recoiled, looking surprised and shocked.

  Lieutenant Williams panicked, sure he had misunderstood. ‘I am so sorry, but I thought . . .’

  ‘Again. On the lips this time,’ she whispered. ‘I will struggle, but force me until I say.’

  ‘If you are sure . . .’

  ‘Do it.’

  He slid his arms around her and tilted his head as he pressed his mouth firmly against hers. Maria’s perfume was intoxicating, her lips smooth and soft. She squirmed, her left hand with the fan smacking his head in apparent protest, while her unseen right grasped his shoulder firmly and pulled him ever tighter towards her. They struggled, Williams unsure quite what he was supposed to do and very conscious of the beautiful young woman held in his arms. Maria twisted her mouth away from his, and so he kissed her neck instead.

  ‘Enough,’ she whispered in his ear. ‘I said enough,’ she repeated as he continued to press his lips against her skin.

  She was breathing hard, a fact all the more evident because somehow his right hand now cupped her left breast through the thin silk of her dress. Williams looked down and stared as if somehow this would help him to understand. Maria also looked down, then her face filled with anger. Williams at last withdrew, and the girl slapped him hard on the cheek.

  ‘I am sorry . . . I do not know . . .’ he stammered.

  ‘’You are doing well,’ she hissed. ‘Wait a little and we will try again.’

  There was a burst of unnaturally loud laughter from the stalls beneath them. It did not seem to be provoked by anything the rest of the audience found amusing.

  ‘Why did you not ask Pringle or Hanley to help you with this?’ asked Williams in an effort to recover his balance.

  ‘Pringle has glasses and you have blond hair. You also look like a bold man,’ she said bluntly.

  ‘So does Hanley.’

  ‘But I could not be sure of stopping either of them! You are safer.’

  Williams was not sure whether he was being complimented or insulted.

  Maria saw his confusion. ‘I trust you because you are in love,’ she said quietly.

  ‘Did one of the others tell you?’

  ‘Yes, but I did not need to hear that. It is so easy to see.’

  He was pleased at that, even if part of him knew that she was very good at pleasing men and doubted her sincerity.

  ‘You’re looking in the wrong place, old cock!’ The shout was loud and came from beneath them. On stage the guardian was patrolling with his faithful retainer and looking for the lover, who was now disguised as the tutor.

  Maria turned to Williams. ‘Some of your countrymen. Is such boorishness accepted in England?’

  Williams had rarely had the funds or inclination to attend the theatres. ‘Perhaps in the lower halls, but no, I do not believe so.’

  ‘Look under the stairs!’ came another helpful comment in English. The cast tried to ignore the heckling, raising their voices in an effort to be heard.

  ‘Silly old sod, he’s not listening.’

  ‘Let’s help the poor old dog out!’

  There was commotion beneath them, with chairs falling and voices raised in protest. Williams leaned forward to see and was dismayed when two British officers scrambled up on to the stage. There was relief when he spotted that one was in the blue facings of a royal regiment and the other in white, and then they turned to help a third redcoat up and his heart sank as he saw the coat of the 106th. It was Hatch. Williams put his hand over his eyes.

  ‘It would be,’ he muttered.

  Hatch was bare headed, his long brown hair not yet trimmed back after the month or more spent on the march to Spain and back. He was swaying visibly, as were his associates. The man in white facings dropped something which rolled noisily across the stage. He crouched down on all fours searching for it. The man from the royal regiment took a swig from a brandy bottle, and then generously offered it to the actor playing the servant.

  ‘Please yourself,’ he said when the man declined. ‘I was only being civil.’

  Ensign Hatch appeared to notice the audience properly for the first time. He smiled broadly and took a bow, but the motion brought a wave of nausea and for one horrible moment Williams thought the man was going to vomit. He staggered back a few steps before recovering and bumped into the guardian. Hatch appeared offended.

  ‘Look where you are going,’ he said. ‘No way to treat a guest.’

  Someone was obviously calling and gesturing to the officers from the wings. The officer in blue facings noticed and turned to the servant. ‘I think they want you,’ he said helpfully.

  With a fortitude that Williams could not but admire, the cast did their best
to continue, pretending the drunken Englishmen were not there. Two maids appeared, one very plump and white haired and obviously played by a man.

  ‘My darling,’ said Hatch, spreading his arms in greeting, and lurched towards them. The actress dodged him, but the man was not so fortunate and was taken in an embrace. ‘Together again at last,’ said the ensign.

  Meanwhile the officer from the royal regiment had finally realised that the people in the wings were calling to him and he wandered offstage to see what was so damned urgent. The man from the regiment with white facings continued to crawl around the stage, almost tripping the guardian and the disguised suitor.

  ‘It’s all a fraud,’ yelled Hatch, as the actor managed to free himself, but lost his mobcap and wig in the process. With surprising speed the officer lunged forward and jabbed at the maid’s bosom. ‘Look, a fraud,’ he said, as if making a great discovery.

  Maria seemed more amused than angry. ‘They are not very good actors at the best of times,’ she explained. ‘Still, ought you not to do something to restrain your comrades?’

  ‘Get off the stage, you fellows!’ he called as loudly as he could.

  Hatch nudged the actor playing the maid. ‘They don’t seem to like you.’

  There was shouting from the wings. ‘Don’t think they like you either,’ added the ensign. He jabbed his index finger against the man’s bosom again. ‘A fraud, you see, it’s simply no good.’ Then he edged towards the actress playing the pretty maid, who squealed at the sight of his outstretched finger and retreated behind the guardian, who was promptly prodded in the ribs.