Searching for Pemberley

by Mary Lydon Simonsen

  Beth met me at the Stepton station in her Aston Martin convertible with the top down. Handing me a headscarf, she told me to climb in. “When my father was dying from throat cancer—the cigars got him in the end—he said he was leaving me this car and asked that when I drove it to think of him, and I do every time.” Without any detours, we quickly reached the house, and Beth said, “We are quite alone. Jack has gone to Sheffield with Freddie to pick up some hardware for Montclair. So it's just we girls.”

  Beth had lunch already prepared, and I set the tray down on the coffee table in the living room where we ate bread and butter sandwiches and drank tea. I told Beth what had happened, and afterwards, I had a good cry, not just about Rob, but about being so far from home. I was missing my mother so much that I was ready to book passage to New York as soon as the ship's office opened on Monday.

  After listening without interruption, Beth sat quietly for a long while. Finally, it seemed that she had come to a decision, and then she said, “I'm not one to air my personal history unless it will serve some purpose. But Jack had problems, which I compounded, and I don't want Rob and you to fall into the same trap. So if you will allow me, I would like to share some things that may be of help in your understanding Rob.

  “When Jack came home from France, he enrolled in a postgraduate program in engineering at Manchester, and he would come home to Montclair on weekends. He was never comfortable living above stairs, and I didn't blame him. It was a damned depressing place in those years right after the war. With Trevor, Matthew, and Tom gone, and Reed in and out of hospitals, a pall fell over the house.

  “There was some joy in our lives. James was born in 1920, and Michael arrived in 1922. So we had two young children scampering around the house, but Tom's death was an open wound for Jack. He found it impossible to heal with my mother reminding everyone of what the war had cost her personally.”

  Beth looked at the clock and said, “It's gone noon, so I'm going to have a Royal Blackla.” She poured a whiskey for herself and asked if I would like one. Even though I didn't like the taste of the stuff, I nodded, and Beth made a whiskey and soda for me. “I don't drink all that often, but when I do, I take my whiskey neat.”

  Returning to the sofa and pulling her legs up under her, Beth continued. “Next thing I know, Jack tells me that he has been offered a job building railway bridges in India. I agreed to go, thinking the job would last for two or three years. Jack worked for the railway company for ten years.

  “In '34, he contracted malaria, and we returned to England for about fifteen months. It was a very good time for Jack and me, and the boys were so glad to be with their father. But by the time he was ready to go back to work, there was little work to be found because of the Depression. That's how we ended up in Argentina. A large percentage of the country's railways were controlled by British firms, and they wanted to protect their investments. Because Argentina had also been hit hard economically, the job involved mostly supervising maintenance work.

  “Buenos Aires has a large British colony, and I felt as if I was back in England, circa 1910. All the upper-class b.s. I had left behind was alive and well in Argentina. The only person who disliked it more than I did was Jack. I didn't realize how much he hated his job, and he didn't enlighten me. And me? I made a lot of wrong assumptions that very nearly ended our marriage.

  “One evening, while attending a company party, Jack's boss, who was three sheets to the wind, came up and slapped him on the back and said, 'Jack's the best. He's the only one who doesn't complain when we send him to some god-awful hellhole. He's even volunteered to go to some of these dumps.' That statement opened my eyes. In India and Argentina, I could rarely visit Jack at his job sites because of disease or unrest or other dangerous situations. Now I believed that Jack had asked for these assignments for the very reason that they were so inaccessible. I was wrong, but that's what I believed at the time.”

  A look of resolution came over Beth's face. “I decided that if I wasn't wanted, I bloody well could be unwanted in England. At least I would be with my sons. I told Jack that I was returning to England to help his mother care for his father, who was in decline because of heart problems. On the long trip home, all I could think about was what a sham our marriage had been.

  “In late 1938, all eyes were on Germany, which, once again, was beating the war drum. For Great Britain, a country that had lost 700,000 men in a war with Germany, there was an underlying panic that it could happen all over again. When Hitler threatened war over the Sudetenland, Britain signed a pact agreeing to the separation of that region from Czechoslovakia, which then became a part of a greater Germany.

  “Neville Chamberlain has been vilified for the concessions he made to Hitler at Munich regarding the Sudetenland, but I can tell you he would have been strung up by his toes in Trafalgar Square if he hadn't done just that. People forget that Chamberlain was met by cheering crowds at Heston Airfield when he returned from the Munich conference. The British did not want another war. The French did not want another war. But we were going to get one because now Hitler was talking about Poland.

  “Jack was still in Argentina when war was declared in September '39. When he arrived at Crofton Wood shortly before Christmas, I had not seen him for half a year, not since his father's funeral in May. Jack got a job right away because England was rapidly converting civilian plants to military uses. He was even busier in 1940 with the Battle of Britain, trying to repair infrastructure faster than the Germans could bomb it. Then came the Blitz. I saw very little of him in the first half of '41.

  “Jack had his own moment of clarity that year. He told me he would be away for weeks at a time because of the extensive damage done to England's industrial cities. I told him I expected that even though nearby Liverpool and Birmingham had been pummeled, it would be absolutely necessary for him to work in Southampton, which was as far away as he could get from Crofton and me. He just stared at me, but he didn't dispute it.

  “In late '42, when the wounded started to come back to England from the desert campaigns in North Africa, I was working at a hospital in Sheffield as a nurse's aide, a Volunteer Aide Detachment. In the First War, we had a code of conduct that stated, 'Do your duty loyally; Fear God; Honour the King.' It was a simpler time. We dealt in moral and patriotic absolutes, which is why the country didn't scream bloody murder when 60,000 of our boys died in one battle with nothing to show for it.

  “At first, I handed out coffee or tea and sandwiches to returning soldiers at train stations where the waiting rooms had been turned into reception centers, but after Jack went to France, I received extensive medical training at a London hospital and was assigned to the hospital ships sailing between Boulogne and Folkestone. The orderlies walked between double-tiered bunks asking, 'Where in Blighty do you live?' That's what they called England—Blighty. They wanted to get the men to a hospital closest to their home.

  “In February 1917, Jack was wounded when an ammunition storage facility exploded sending shrapnel everywhere. He was sent back to England with an infected arm. I received permission from my head matron to go to him, but only after producing a certificate of marriage. These matrons were tough, very tough, and they didn't tolerate any nonsense or fooling around from their volunteers. They cared so much for their patients, but frankly, until you proved yourself, they didn't give a shit about you.”

  As serious as the discussion was, I couldn't help thinking how different Beth was from the lady I had met the previous autumn. That Beth would never have said “shit” or drank whiskey “neat.” I liked this Beth a lot better.

  “After Jack was discharged from hospital, he was given two weeks' leave and two weeks of light duty, but I got only ten days because my time with him when in the hospital was considered to be leave. But it was a wonderful ten days. We went to Lyme Regis in Dorset right on the Channel. You might have read about it in Jane Austen's Persuasion. It rained most of the time, but we snuggled in bed or sat in the public room in fro
nt of a fire. After Lyme Regis, we'd see each other whenever we could, because I was working, and then he was back to France.”

  Beth stopped talking and started to rub her arms, as if these memories had brought on a chill of their own. “In April 1917, I was assigned to the hospital in a casino at LeTouquet that had been set up by the Duchess of Westminster. That's where I was when the guns went silent on November 11, 1918.”

  Suddenly stopping, Beth said, “My God, what a tangent I just went off on.” Beth stood up and headed toward the kitchen. “Let's get some coffee going.” After returning with a fresh pot, courtesy of the Army Exchange Service, she continued her story. “What I started to say was that I had a particularly bad week at the hospital in Sheffield. After Freddie picked me up at the Stepton station, he insisted I come back to Montclair for a drink. Remember, at this time, Montclair was being used by the RAF as a retreat. I went into the drawing room, and Freddie introduced me as the 'Mistress of the Manor' to all the officers. I met a captain from the Royal Canadian Air Force.”

  I closed my eyes because I was afraid of what Beth was about to say.

  “Maggie, you may open your eyes. I did not have an affair.” I let out a sigh. I cared so much for Jack and Beth I didn't want to think either had been unfaithful. It was upsetting enough to learn their marriage had been so troubled. “But I came pretty close to it. But Peter was married and had a son, and his wife didn't deserve that. He missed his family, and I was very lonely after years of Jack being gone so much. Peter treated me with such kindness. We mostly talked, held hands, went for long walks, and kissed quite a bit, but it lasted all of seven days, and I never saw him again.”

  Looking at me, Beth asked if I thought less of her because of her flirtation, but after hearing about her life with Jack, I couldn't judge her. “No,” I said, “I just wish it had been different.”

  Beth smiled and then continued, “I believe Freddie said something to Jack. As a result, we had our first serious discussion about our marriage.” Beth stopped talking and looked out the window trying to think of the right words to use. “Jack told me that one of the reasons he took the job in India was because it was the only way he could provide for me in the same manner in which I had been brought up at Montclair. If we had stayed in England, he could never have afforded to hire nurses and governesses for the children or maids for me. The hurt I felt went to my very soul. I asked him if he truly believed that having servants was more important to me than having a husband. And what about his sons? They hardly knew him.

  “After that, Jack came home more often. He started to tell me things he had kept bottled up inside, like the first time he realized he fancied me. This would be 1909, when I was sixteen years old. We were hosting the Harvest Ball, which was the premier event of the summer, for all of our high-society friends. When our guests arrived, it was Jack and Tom's job to assist the footmen in helping the ladies out of their carriages. Jack escorted Lady Lindsey to the ballroom because she was very old and frail. When he was going back to help the other guests, I was coming down the stairs, and it stopped him in his tracks. My father came over to him and said, 'No harm in looking, Jack, as long as you don't touch.' I'm sure my father meant it as a joke, but Jack took it to mean that no matter how good he was or how high he might rise, I was beyond his reach. That planted the seed that he would never be good enough for me.

  “These discussions helped a lot, but there was so much that was simmering under the surface. Then the walls came tumbling down when Michael called. He had joined the Royal Air Force and had been assigned to a bomber base in Lincolnshire as a mechanic. We were so relieved, believing that was where he would serve out the war. However, when he called, he told me that he had orders for Burma. This is in October '44. I was sick to my stomach. By that time, everyone knew how the Japanese fought to the death and what they did to prisoners of war.

  “I waited for Jack to come home. I was afraid of how he would react since he was already terribly stressed with James being in Italy. As soon as I told him about Michael, he broke out in a sweat and started to clutch at his throat because he couldn't breathe or swallow. He was having a panic attack. And then he started to rock back and forth, holding his head in his hands, and saying, 'They're going to get my boys.' And he looked right at me and said, 'Just like they got Tom and Trevor and Matt.' And there it was in plain sight, all the pain he had kept to himself for thirty years. When he was able to talk, everything that had been bothering him spilled out. It was true he kept his family at a distance because, in that way, it wouldn't hurt as much when I left him and took the boys with me. He was absolutely convinced I'd see what a 'mug' he was and would look for someone who was brought up like I was.

  “Do you see where I'm going with this?” she asked with such concern. “There are as many ways to deal with the horrors of war as there are people. A lot of individuals talk about it and get it out of their system, but some cannot let go. Rob has seen his closest friend die right in front of him and others blown out of the sky. He needs help.”

  “Is that why Jack suggested we go to Bassingbourn?”

  “Yes. He's afraid Rob will take the same wrong path he did. He doesn't want to think of him sitting on the edge of a bed twenty-five years from now crying about the loss of his friends.”

  “So what do I do?” I asked. Beth had stopped crying, and I had started.

  “I'd like for Jack to talk to him. There are no guaranties, but I think at this point, Rob will understand we are concerned for his welfare. If anyone can reach Rob, it will be Jack. He's made that same journey.”

  The following morning, after breakfast, Beth told me Jack wanted to talk to me. I found him at the rear of his property next to the chicken coops, with his foot up on a fence rail, watching a border collie moving a flock of sheep from one pasture to another. It was this very scene that had inspired so many of Reed Lacey's drawings.

  “When I was a lad, I could easily spend a part of an afternoon watching those dogs work. They're remarkable animals, incredibly intelligent.” After a few minutes, he finally said, “Beth told me you and Rob have hit a rough patch.”

  I told him about what had happened in London and asked him what he thought.

  “To tell you the truth, Maggie, it's more about me than Rob.” Looking off into the distance, Jack said, “Beth told you that when I found out that Michael had orders for Burma, I had a panic attack, right?” I simply nodded. “Well, I didn't have a panic attack. I had a nervous breakdown.” Switching legs on the fence rail, he continued. “All I could do was sit in my bedroom and look out the window while volunteers from the village worked in our Victory garden. I was supposed to be in Cherbourg working on repairing the harbor facilities, so the Allies could get war materiel to the boys fighting in France. Instead, I was crying on and off all day long with either my mother or Beth wiping my nose.

  “It had been building up for quite a while. I knew from news reports that James's regiment was in the thick of it in Italy, but I thought at least my younger son was safe. And then came the call from Michael. After Beth told me about his new orders, I was convinced my boy was going to die in the Burmese jungles.

  “Nightmares from the war that I hadn't had in ten, fifteen years came back. Jesus, they all came back,” he said, massaging his temples as if that act would block out any unwanted images. “Picking up bodies and having them fall apart in my hands. Stepping on limbs. Being scared shitless during barrages.”

  Although I could see him only in profile, I knew Jack was fighting back tears. “I would never have believed I could fall apart like that, but I did. Michael came home on leave, and instead of me reassuring him everything would be all right, he reassured me. We went for long walks and talked about everything under the sun. He told me he wanted to be an engineer. He didn't say it, but what he really meant was, if he became an engineer, I would pay more attention to him. After Michael left, I realized that I couldn't help my own boys, but I could help someone else's by getting them what t
hey needed to defeat those Nazi bastards.”

  Turning to look at me, he said, “Maggie, I've seen a B-17 up close. I know where the bombardier sits and how close he is to the navigator. When the flak hit the nose of Rob's Fortress, it didn't just kill Pat. It blew him to pieces, and Rob had to crawl over his friend's body to get to the switch.” Looking at me to see if I understood, he continued, “I'm telling you this because, from conversations I've had with Rob, I don't think he has dealt with what happened over Stuttgart or on the other twenty-nine missions. After the last mission, as far as he was concerned, he had tempted fate thirty times, and he wasn't about to take any more chances. I believe Rob was a cautious man before the war, and his war experiences have only made him more so.

  “Rob's just drifting all over the place. If it weren't for you, he wouldn't have any anchor at all. If you and Rob do tie the knot, it's possible he will react much like I did. He'll keep everything buried deep inside, he won't talk about it, and he'll shut you out, just like I shut out Beth.” Putting his arm around my shoulder, he said, “If you were my daughter, I'd have this very same conversation with you. But from this point on, if you want my advice, I'll wait for you to ask.”

  Now it was my turn to stare off into the distance. There wasn't anything Jack had said that I could disagree with. After our trip to Bassingbourn, I was hoping Rob would want to talk, but that hadn't happened. All of this wouldn't have mattered to me if I believed it didn't matter to Rob.

  “You don't think we're going to get married. Do you?”

  “I don't know,” Jack said, shaking his head. “If he ever does open up to you, your support will be very important, but until that time, you're on the sidelines. Unfortunately, there's no way of knowing if he'll even let you in the game.”