Emma's War

by Rosie Clarke

  ‘Is that legal, Sol?’

  ‘No … not now that the government is taking over the movement of funds and controlling all trading.’

  ‘Would you be in trouble if this came out?’

  ‘Yes …’ Sol met my eyes. ‘I’m taking a risk, but I trust Jack Harvey. I knew his father well years ago. He was reluctant to accept my money, but if he does … he will be fair with me.’

  I nodded, but made no comment. What Sol was doing was wrong. The government needed to control the flow of money because the country needed all its resources. I suspected that some of Sol’s money might have been made without the payment of taxes, and it worried me a little that he should take such risks, but it was not for me to comment.

  Sol had taken me into his home and taught me a trade. He had invested my money in one of his businesses, and although I had not yet received any profits from the factory, I knew the money was being used wisely. When I wanted money it would be there for me. Sol would be scrupulous in his dealings with me, if not with the government.

  I was silent as we drove home. Sol glanced at me once or twice, then frowned.

  ‘Are you shocked, Emma? Think I’m a bit of a rogue?’

  ‘No, I don’t think that, Sol. You know I care for you too much to ever think that – but I’m a little worried, for your sake.’

  ‘Don’t be,’ he said. ‘In business you have to take risks, if you want to get somewhere that is. My money is earned honestly. Maybe I haven’t paid all the taxes I should, but that’s the game … most businessmen get away with what they can. I dare say I’m no worse and no better than most.’

  ‘You’re better than most men,’ I replied and smiled at him. ‘I know what you’re doing is to protect Margaret and me too …’

  ‘I like being rich,’ Sol admitted. ‘We’re living in uneasy times, Emma. I don’t intend to come out of this war without a penny to my name. I’m too old to start again.’

  ‘Then do what you have to,’ I said. I smiled at him, a wicked lift to the corners of my mouth. ‘Just don’t get caught, will you? I don’t want anything bad to happen to you, Sol.’

  ‘Bless you for that, my dear,’ he said. ‘Believe me, I know what I’m doing. If anyone can get money out, it’s Jack Harvey …’

  Margaret didn’t know about the money Sol wanted to send out of the country. He had asked me not to tell her, and I gave him my word. I wouldn’t have dreamed of telling her. I knew she would worry too much, and that wouldn’t be good for her. The doctor had made it clear she ought not to be upset more than necessary.

  She was pleased that we were to have a guest for dinner that evening, and remembered Mr Harvey’s father.

  ‘Yes, I do remember him. We met once in New York,’ she said when we spoke the next morning. ‘A charming gentleman, but quite ruthless, I think.’ She smiled at me. ‘I would tell you to be careful of Mr Harvey’s son, Emma – except that I know you are quite safe from him or any other flirt. Your love for Jonathan will protect you.’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ I replied. ‘Mr Harvey is very good-looking, no one could deny that – and he has such a direct manner. When you talk to him it feels as if you’re caught up in whirlwind, but he could never be more than a friend. I love Jon and I always shall.’

  Margaret nodded. ‘I know that, dearest,’ she said and touched my cheek. ‘So – did you enjoy yourself last evening?’

  ‘It was all right,’ I replied. ‘I was glad I was wearing your dress. Mr Harvey thought it was rather special, and I noticed several of the ladies looking at it when they thought I wasn’t aware of their interest.’

  ‘Good. Would you like to borrow something else of mine for this evening?’

  ‘No, thank you,’ I said. ‘It is very kind of you, but I have plenty of dresses I can wear for dinner at home.’

  ‘Yes, I’m sure you have,’ she said. ‘But if ever you do need something, for a special occasion … I have several dresses that might fit you. A few adjustments perhaps …’

  I thanked her, but I couldn’t imagine wanting to borrow clothes on my own account. The dress I had worn the previous evening was lovely, but it had made me look like someone else. I wanted to look like myself when Mr Harvey came to dinner.

  He had asked me how he could become my friend, but it was the girl in the blue velvet dress he had wanted to know. When he saw me as I truly was, perhaps he would lose interest – and that might be the best for all of us.

  I wore one of my plainest dresses that evening. It was grey with a gored skirt and a buttoned-up bodice. The collar was white, and very demure. I saw Mr Harvey smile as he saw me, a smile that seemed to mock and challenge me, as if he were trying to tell me that I could not deceive him by wearing a dress that I knew did nothing for me.

  Before dinner we had drinks, and Mr Harvey sat beside me on the sofa nursing his glass of sherry.

  ‘So, Mrs Reece,’ he murmured, a hint of mischief in his voice. ‘What do you do with yourself all day? Have you given up your work? I seem to remember you saying that you went to work …’

  ‘I work for Sol,’ I replied, frowning at him. He knew I was married. He had no right to look at me in that way, as if he thought I might be prepared to flirt with him. ‘I have been learning the trade. And when I come home at night, I play with my son.’

  That made him pause for thought, but after a moment he nodded.

  ‘So you have been married twice,’ he said, assessing me with his eyes. ‘You were a widow – and now you work in the Portobello Road. At Sol’s showroom or the workshop?’

  ‘I’ve been working at the back, learning to cut and make up the dresses.’

  ‘And are you any good?’ he asked, brows rising. ‘Do you enjoy your work, Mrs Reece?’

  ‘Emma is more than an employee,’ Sol said, coming to my rescue at that moment. ‘She is a partner in the factory. She had some money left to her, and I invested it on her behalf. It is Emma’s interests I need to protect, as well as my own.’

  ‘Is that true?’ Mr Harvey raised his brows.

  ‘I leave the business side of things to Sol,’ I replied. ‘One day I may go into business for myself, but not just yet. At the moment I have too much to learn.’

  He nodded, his gaze narrowed, eyes intent on my face. ‘And what sort of business would that be, Mrs Reece?’

  ‘Perhaps the same as your family,’ I replied. ‘Retailing rather than manufacturing.’

  ‘You haven’t mentioned that to me,’ Sol said, looking interested. ‘Set your mind on a chain of fashion shops, have you? I rather like the sound of that, Emma. Shall you make me your partner?’

  ‘Perhaps – one day,’ I said. ‘It may depend on what Jon thinks when the time comes.’

  ‘And Jon is your husband?’ Jack Harvey asked.

  ‘Yes.’ I raised my head slightly. ‘He is in the air force at the moment, but I’m not sure what he will want to do when the war is over. He may want to live in the country.’

  ‘But you will do whatever he thinks right?’

  ‘Of course … isn’t that what wives do?’

  ‘Yes, of course it is,’ Margaret said. ‘Mr Harvey, I forbid you to tease Emma. You are making her blush.’

  ‘But she blushes so delightfully,’ Jack Harvey said, then grinned. ‘Forgive me, Mrs Reece. I confess I was teasing you a little. It is my nature. I like to push people, to see how far they will go …’

  ‘In what way, Mr Harvey?’

  ‘In whatever way they choose, of course.’

  The housekeeper came in at that moment and announced that dinner was served. Mr Harvey got to his feet immediately, and offered his arm to Margaret. Sol escorted me, speaking to me softly as we followed on behind.

  ‘Humour him, Emma, for my sake. I want this deal if I can get it – but don’t let him upset you. I would rather throw him out now – if you can’t put up with him?’

  ‘I am not in the least disturbed,’ I replied. ‘Mr Harvey means nothing to me one way or the other.’ />
  ‘Good, that’s what I wanted to hear.’ Sol smiled at me. ‘He means no harm, Emma. It’s just his way.’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ I said. ‘Don’t worry, Sol. I shan’t say anything to upset him.’

  It seemed however that Mr Harvey had decided enough was enough. Throughout the rest of that evening, he behaved with perfect propriety, and at the end of it he smiled as he said goodbye to me.

  ‘I am returning to New York the day after tomorrow,’ he said. ‘It was a pleasure to meet you, Mrs Reece. Perhaps we shall meet again when I return?’

  ‘Are you intending to return, Mr Harvey?’

  ‘Oh yes,’ he replied, a faint twist to his mouth. ‘I have unfinished business here, and I never give up once I have set my mind to something. Believe me, Mrs Reece. I am very determined.’

  ‘I imagine that is a quality much needed in business,’ I said. ‘I think it is one I shall strive to acquire.’

  ‘I would think you are already quite a determined young woman,’ he murmured. ‘But that is something I may yet discover.’

  ‘Perhaps when you return?’

  ‘Yes, quite possibly.’ I offered my hand but instead of shaking it, he lifted it to his lips and kissed it, just briefly. ‘I shall look forward to our next meeting, Mrs Reece.’

  ‘Then I can only wish you a safe journey.’

  He nodded, and turned to Sol. As the two men went out into the hall together, Margaret looked at me and smiled.

  ‘I believe you may have made a conquest, Emma.’

  ‘Please do not say so,’ I begged. ‘I have no desire to draw Mr Harvey’s attentions on myself.’

  ‘There is really no harm in his admiring you,’ Margaret said. ‘Providing you are aware of the dangers involved.’

  ‘What dangers?’ I tossed back my hair, smiling at her confidently. ‘I love my husband, Margaret. Mr Harvey means nothing to me and never will.’

  Sol came back to us at that moment. He walked over to kiss Margaret on the cheek, then glanced at me, a look of triumph in his eyes.

  ‘Thanks to you, Emma, I think we are all going to be rather more wealthy than we are at the moment.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Margaret asked, eyeing him curiously.

  ‘You know I’ve always wanted to do business with the Harveys, well, now it seems that they are interested at last.’ He smiled at me. ‘When the war is over, big things are going to happen, Emma.’

  ‘When the war is over,’ Margaret said. ‘I only wish it were, Sol!’

  ‘It will be one day,’ Sol told her. ‘We have only to be patient. Things may be difficult for a while, but I have every confidence in the future.’

  I took that to mean that Sol had managed to persuade Mr Harvey to do what he wanted, and I wondered how much of a part I had played in that decision. I hoped it was very small. I did not wish to think myself obligated to the American, charming though he was – nor did I wish him to become involved in something illegal for my sake.

  But perhaps it was only a small crime. The loss of Sol’s unpaid taxes would not bring the country to its knees. Nor should it cause harm to Mr Harvey himself. After all, what could it matter if Sol transferred some money to America? I did not suppose Mr Harvey would have agreed to take the cash out of the country if he thought there was any danger of his being caught.

  The telephone rang in the hall at that moment. It was answered by Mrs Rowan, and then she came into the sitting room to fetch me.

  ‘It’s your husband, Mrs Reece.’

  ‘Jon – on the telephone?’ I ran into the hall, my heart racing. ‘Jon – is that you? Are you all right?’

  ‘I’m fine, Emma. I just wanted to tell you that I have a thirty-six-hour pass for this weekend. I’ll be home about twelve on Saturday.’

  ‘Oh, Jon,’ I cried. ‘That’s wonderful! I’m so pleased, darling.’

  ‘I have to go,’ he said. ‘Don’t forget I shall be thinking of you, darling. I’ll see you on Saturday.’

  ‘Yes, please. Bye …’

  I was smiling as I went to say goodnight to Sol and Margaret. Jon was coming home for the weekend, and everything was just as it ought to be. Already I was forgetting the man who had come to dinner …

  Jon took me dancing that weekend. He seemed happy, relaxed, free of the shadows that had haunted him on the last night we had been together. Yet there was still that reluctance to talk about the war.

  ‘What have you been doing, darling?’ he asked as we lay side by side later that night. ‘Keeping busy, I expect?’

  ‘Oh yes, we’re always busy at the workshop. Sol seems to be able to get hold of the materials we need, though things may change over the next few months.’

  ‘Have you been anywhere nice?’

  ‘I went to a civic reception with Sol one evening. Margaret lent me a special dress – but it was boring really. I only went because Margaret didn’t feel well enough.’

  ‘Yes, I noticed she seemed tired …’

  The subject was turned and we talked of other things. I wasn’t sure why I hadn’t told him about Jack Harvey. There was no reason why I should not have mentioned him, but somehow I didn’t and the opportunity passed.

  Jon made love to me that night, and as usual it left me feeling warm and contented inside. My only regret was that my husband’s leave was over far too soon.

  Again, he asked me not to go to the station with him. I let him go alone. Parting was no easier than it had been the first time, but I did not feel quite so frightened as I had then. I knew that Jon had flown several missions now and come back safely. I prayed that he would continue to do so, but I had realized it was best not to dwell on such thoughts.

  Instead, I put most of my energy into learning everything I could about Sol’s business. I was spending much of my time in the showroom now, getting to know the customers and their likes and dislikes. I could greet them by name now as Sol did, and I enjoyed talking to those who came regularly to buy from us, making sure that I always asked about their families. They came from all walks of life, and different parts of the country, some with shops in London, others with small country businesses. They always had time for a chat and a cup of coffee, and I counted many of them as friends.

  It was a busy life, a full life, but I made time for my son and Mrs Reece, telephoning at least once a week and taking James to visit every other Sunday.

  I had offered to help Sol with the accounts, but as yet he had not taken me up on my offer. I suspected there might be a reason for his reluctance. I believed Sol kept two sets of books, one for his accountant’s benefit and one for his own.

  He would not involve me in anything not quite legal, of course. I had heard nothing more of his business arrangements with Jack Harvey. I believed they had come to some agreement between them, but I could not know for certain. Nor did I truly wish to.

  I was happy the way things were, working, learning and playing with my son. Jon’s visits were the highlights of my life. I looked forward to them, but did not let them become my whole existence.

  The war continued and the papers seemed to be full of bad news, of ships sunk and battles won or lost.

  When I read that our soldiers had been encircled on the French coast, I feared the worst, but when I learned of the heroic rescue of our brave men, much of it by little ships and ordinary people, who had taken their boats across the Channel to do what they could, I wept tears of joy and pride.

  I was proud to be British then, and I began to think that perhaps it was time I did something to help in the war effort. Many women were beginning to work in munitions factories and all kinds of jobs they would never have considered before the war. I discussed it with Jon when he came home on leave, and with Sol. Neither of them thought it was necessary for me to work anywhere else, but I felt that I wanted to do something.

  Surprisingly, it was Mrs Reece who came up with the suggestion that satisfied all of us.

  ‘Some of us are getting together to entertain the troops,’ she to
ld me when I visited one Sunday. We are going to have concerts, dances, and provide tea and hot meals for the men. We shall need teams of volunteers for the catering side, Emma. I wondered if you would like to help us? You could spare us a few hours in the evenings, or at weekends – couldn’t you?’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ I agreed at once. ‘I should like to help.’

  It was not quite the vital war work I had envisaged, but it was useful. We had quite a few men from the Canadian Air Force in Britain, and men from other countries – men who had been driven out of their homes by the German invaders, and had come to join us in our struggle. London must seem an unfriendly place to them sometimes, and anything we could do for them and our own men who were on leave was surely worthwhile.

  The news continued to be bad. The Germans had marched into Paris, and invaded the Channel Islands, and now they were turning their attention to us as the bombs began to fall on London.

  We had grown used to reading of men killed at sea and in battle, but now, quite suddenly, it was our own city at risk.

  Night after night, the flames reached high into the sky as the docks were attacked and wave after wave of enemy planes came over. The destruction in London was terrible to see, rows of houses disappearing in a few hours, heart-rending and very frightening.

  My mother telephoned, begging me to go home and take James to her, but I refused to leave Sol and Margaret. Some people had left for the country, but most Londoners were sticking it out, their cheerful voices chattering away as they huddled in the underground when the sirens went, emerging into a grey dawn to find their homes destroyed and all their possessions gone.

  Sol had built an Anderson shelter in the garden, and we all ran for it as soon as the first siren went, gathering up books, knitting and something to munch while we waited. At first it was terrifying, but after a while we began to make jokes, and take the bombing in our stride.

  The battle for Britain was being won in the skies above us by our brave airmen, who were flying non-stop missions to try and protect us. I worried for Jon during those tense weeks, my heart in my mouth every time the telephone rang or the postman came to the door, but the weeks passed and there was no official telegram, no sympathetic message from a friend. Jon was too busy or too tired to telephone often himself, but now and then he managed a brief call.