by Jack Murray
‘I can tell you he is very much like his grandfather and not a bit like me at this age,’ said Henry with a smile. But behind the smile there was sadness also. The remembrance of a man whom he’d lost as a consequence of the War.
‘I remember your father, sir’ said Stan. ‘A fine man. He had a word for everyone, didn’t matter who you were.’
Henry nodded and said nothing. The memory of his loss would never leave him. Stan, recognising the look on Henry’s face, turned to his sons and said, ‘Right, boys, we’ve taken enough of his lordship’s time. There’s others want a sup.’
This seemed to break the spell and Henry smiled at the big blacksmith as he moved aside. The three Shaw men moved into the centre of the hall and looked around. As big as it was, it was still thronged by the villagers who looked forward to this day and spoke of nothing else for many weeks in advance.
Danny spotted his mother over by the table where Lady Jane and her daughter Sarah were serving mince pies. Sarah was almost as tall as her mother now but very gangly. Unlike her mother, who seemed very relaxed with the visitors, Sarah looked ill at ease. Augustus was whispering to her. He seemed amused.
Danny found he couldn’t take his eyes away from her. The green eyes compelled his attention. Then, just for a moment, their eyes met. She turned away immediately. Danny looked away also and went over to join Hugh Gissing who was now minus his tuba and was guzzling every cake he could lay his mitts on.
‘You ready for the concert then?’ asked Danny with a grin.
‘Aye, been practicing for weeks,’ replied Hugh between mouthfuls.
‘I know, the whole village has been listening,’ joked Danny. Hugh laughed at this. The animosity that had marked their time at school had long since disappeared. Danny realised it probably dated from the moment he had not given them up to Lord Cavendish. Since then the two rival gangs had gradually merged as other things captured their interest.
Alec was now courting Fred’s sister. Tom was to marry Greg’s cousin. This was village life. A cycle of renewal that had begun centuries before them and would go on long after they were dust in the ground. Or so Danny had once thought. But even he accepted that things change. Sometimes for good, though often not.
He drifted through the crowd trying to avoid the small children who were running underneath his feet. It was the same every year. Once upon a time he had been one of those children. There seemed to be more of them now. The crowd was as big as he could remember.
Up ahead he saw Reverend Simmons clap his hands to gain everyone’s attention. The crowd became silent and gave him some space so that all could see. Danny looked at Simmons, his back a little more crooked, his cauliflower ears partially covered by a felt hat. He’d lived a life. Danny wondered about his own future. Would it draw out lazily year after year in the village or would events in Europe force his life along a different course? The serious look on the face of Simmons suggested he was thinking along similar lines as he began to speak.
‘My friends it is time to work for our food and,’ he held his glass up, ‘wine.’ The audience laughed at this. Simmons continued, ‘Normally such a day as this should be one of joy as we anticipate the coming of our Lord. Alas, the world is facing a great evil once again. I wonder how long we will be able to enjoy such gatherings before the young men of our country must, once again, be asked to make the ultimate sacrifice. I hope and pray that day never comes. I fear that it will.’
There was silence in the hall as Simmons spoke. The Cavendish family looked on solemnly. Everyone recognised that to ignore the looming war would be a disservice to those who had lost family in the previous conflict. A few of the villagers, including Lady Jane, already had eyes brimming with tears as Simmons spoke movingly of that time.
Finally, Simmons finished by saying, ‘With our hearts in the present, our memories for those we have lost in the past and our prayers for the future can I ask you, the carol singers, to begin.’
There was a round of applause and then the singers grouped together. Following the short introduction by Simmons, the choir rapidly changed the order of the songs they had decided to sing. On the trumpet, postmaster Ronald Annersley began to play the opening bars of ‘Silent Night’. The whole hall echoed to as emotional a rendering of this carol as anyone could remember. Danny sang along also. He looked at his father. Tears ran down his father’s cheeks. So used to the silence, the void that sometimes seemed to be his father, Danny was shocked by what he saw. And, for the first time, he felt something that he had never felt before.
Fear.
3
December 28th, 1938
Danny rose just after seven and dressed quickly. He walked outside. The cold stung his face. It was still dagger-dark but there was a glow of light from the snow blanketing the ground. His feet crunched through the snow towards the forge. There was always a fire lit. Danny added more charcoal causing the forge to burst into life. Flames snapped up and outwards. He turned to the wall and reached for a pair of ancient bellows his grandfather had probably used. Pumping his arm, he forced air through the bellows into the forge causing the fire to roar with approval. Job done, Danny returned to the cottage for his breakfast. A light was on and he could see his mother through the window preparing a cooked breakfast for the three men.
‘Smells good,’ said Danny giving his mother a hug. ‘Tea ready?’
Kate frowned at her son, ‘I’ve only two hands. Why don’t you boil the water?’ Danny ignored her and sat at the table with his arms folded and a grin on his face. His mother smiled also.
‘I’m not a servant y’know,’ said Kate but the effect was ruined by her laughter.
Tom joined them a few moments later and then Stan. Soon they were tucking into bacon and eggs.
‘What time are you going up to the Hall?’ asked Tom between mouthfuls.
‘The note said eleven,’ replied Danny looking at Tom with a smile.
‘How long will you be?’ asked Stan. Business as usual, semi impatient with the interruption but the pride was unmistakable.
‘As long as it takes,’ interjected Kate. ‘What if his lordship invites him for lunch?’ This brought guffaws from Tom. ‘Well why wouldn’t he?’ continued Kate, ‘My boy’s as good as any that go there.’
‘Maybe he’ll eat with the servants,’ laughed Tom.
‘You’re just jealous,’ replied Kate, any attempt at rebuke let down by her laughter.
Danny was enjoying all of this immensely and chipped in after his mum, ‘Always has been jealous, mum. Can’t blame him, living in my shadow all these years.’
Kate pointed her finger at Danny and warned, ‘Don’t you start.’ But her youngest was already laughing loudly, and so was Tom.
-
At his mother’s insistence, Danny scrubbed up and changed his clothes, which resulted in a volley of friendly abuse from his brother as he set off for Cavendish Hall. Danny responded in kind which left his mother scolding her two sons and Stan looking on with a pipe in his mouth and a broad grin.
As he approached the Hall, Danny realised he was unsure whether he should go to the front or make a left and head to the back of the Hall where the trade entrance was located. He opted for the latter and had made about twenty yards when he heard a voice calling him.
‘Mr Shaw, would you care to come this way.’
Danny turned around and saw Mr Curtis, the venerable butler of Cavendish Hall. Curtis was a dignified man doing a dignified job. The grey hairs suggested, truthfully, that he was on the wrong side of seventy. He had been butler at the Hall since the Bronze Age, according to Danny’s classmates. Looking at him, Danny thought that was being generous.
‘Hello, Mr Curtis, are you sure?’ replied Danny, ‘I’m happy to go this way.’
‘No, if you please, Lord Cavendish insisted you come through the front entrance.’
Danny shrugged and followed Curtis through the front doors as requested, into the large entrance hallway where he had stood a few days pre
viously. The Christmas tree was still there but the absence of tables and people emphasised the hall’s size. Directly ahead, Danny had an unobstructed view of the great staircase leading up to the open second floor corridor with a series of imposing portraits of the descendants of Lord Cavendish. A, fairly, motley crew, thought Danny.
‘If you’ll come this way,’ intoned Curtis as if he was reading from a pulpit. ‘Lord Cavendish suggested that I take you to the games room.’
Danny had never been beyond the confines of the entrance hall so was fascinated to continue through to previously unseen parts of the manor house. The two men made their way down a corridor before arriving outside a door. Curtis gave a brief knock and then walked in.
The room was large, containing a billiard table, a leather chesterfield sofa and matching armchairs. There was a table with a green baize top for playing card games. To the other side of the room was a table with a chess set laid out and two chairs either side. The middle of the room was clear.
‘If you’ll take a seat, I’ll let Lord Cavendish and Lord Robert know that you have arrived.’
Rather than sit down, Danny had a look around the room. He went to the window and saw that it overlooked the back garden. There wasn’t much to see. The snow had done a good job in covering anything of interest.
A noise from behind. The door opened and into the room walked Henry Cavendish and Robert. The youngster looked very excited.
‘Hello, Mr Shaw,’ said the young noble. He walked directly to Danny and shook his hand.
Danny laughed and replied, ‘If I’m going to be showing you how to throw someone to the ground, perhaps you should call me Danny, young sir.’
Robert glanced at his dad, who smiled and nodded.
Henry looked at Danny and said, ‘I shall take it that I can call you Danny also.’
‘Yes, Lord Cavendish,’ said Danny with a grin.
‘Well, then,’ continued Henry, ‘we are quite literally in your hands. Perhaps if you demonstrate to Robert using me as your mortal enemy or some such, he’ll have an idea of what we’re doing. In fact, perhaps before that you could tell us more about how you learned. You said your father had taught you?’
Danny looked at Henry and understood immediately that this was an opportunity to talk about the war.
‘Yes sir, my father taught me,’ replied Danny. He looked at the young lord and said, ‘You will know all about the last War, Lord Robert.’
‘Yes, Danny, my grandfather fought in it. He died.’
‘Yes sir, he was a very brave man. When you’re in the army, like my father was, they give you basic instruction in hand to hand combat. It’s part of the training. Comes in useful I’m told. Apparently, there was quite a lot of it in the trenches.’
‘I know. I read all about it, Danny,’ the young lord was more excited than horrified by what he’d read.
Danny glanced at Henry. The look on his face was amusement but Danny sensed there was a tinge of sadness for his late father. A nod from Henry and Danny continued.
‘My father showed my brother and me some of the things they’d taught him. My brother and me, well we practiced a lot. I became pretty good at it in the end. It’s fairly easy to do as you’ll see.’
Henry stepped forward and Danny showed him where to stand. A few moments later, Lord Henry was thrown, quite gently, onto the floor.
Henry burst out laughing, ‘My word, Danny, you made that seem very easy.’
Robert clapped excitedly. For the next half hour, Danny instructed both on a number of the wrestling techniques Stan had learned. It was clear in the conversation between throws that Henry was keen that his son be prepared for life at a boy’s public school. It sounded as if boys were the same whatever their station in life.
‘Well, Robert, I think perhaps we should allow Danny to return to his work now. You look like you have the idea now.’
Robert looked very unhappy at this. He was having such fun he couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to end it.
‘One last throw, young sir,’ suggested Danny, which brightened the youngster’s mood. Danny and Robert stood face to face and then gripped one another’s arms. ‘Remember what I told you, sir.’
A moment later, Robert stretched his leg out and threw Danny over it. Danny cushioned his fall by expertly rolling as his back was about to hit the ground. When he looked up, he saw the bemused faces of Lady Jane and Sarah looking down at him.
‘Hello, darling,’ laughed Henry, ‘I asked Danny Shaw if he would come up and show Robert that throw, do you remember?’
Jane’s green eyes crinkled in amusement.
’I certainly remember the throw. I don’t remember you mentioning that Mr Shaw would be coming up to show Robert.’
‘Ah yes, I may have forgotten that bit,’ said Henry shamefacedly.
‘A little too conveniently, if you ask me,’ said Jane, with one eyebrow arched. Danny rose to his feet and dusted himself down a little.
‘Thank you, Mr Shaw, for giving us your time. I must admit, the ways of men are often a mystery to me, but it seems like my son has had an enjoyable morning.’
‘Oh yes,’ exclaimed Robert, ‘We’ve had a wonderful time.’
Sarah rolled her eyes at this and turned to walk away. Up close Danny was conscious of two things about her. Firstly, she was still every bit as snooty as the first time he had seen her in the forest clearing. Secondly, she was probably going to be a stunner.
The two women left the boys to their play. Henry laughed at the intrusion and suggested that they have a lemonade. Danny was intrigued. He had never been to this part of Cavendish Hall and agreed to this immediately. He was led down to the kitchen where he met Elsie, the aged cook and the housekeeper, Polly.
‘What’ve you three gentlemen been up to?
‘Fighting,’ said Henry truthfully.
Ethel looked at him sceptically before Robert provided a more detailed explanation of the morning’s activities. All of this amused and appalled Ethel in equal measure. Three glasses of lemonade were put on the table and the three men gulped down the contents in record time. Three refills followed and were despatched with equal rapidity.
‘I think it’s time to let Danny go now,’ said Henry after they had well and truly quenched their thirst.
Danny rose from the table and was about to head towards the back door when Henry added, ‘No come with us. We’ll go up via the entrance hall again.
Danny felt a surge of pride. This was something of an honour and he felt they were treating him as an equal. Changed times, he thought. They climbed the back stairs and arrived back in the hall.
Robert chattered away happily, asking questions about the forge. He seemed fascinated by the work of blacksmiths. Danny glanced at Henry, unsure if he should suggest the young lord should visit. The raised eyebrows and the smile on Henry’s face emboldened Danny.
‘If you’d like to come along some day, I’m sure we could use an extra pair of hands down at the forge. We’ve just taken on another young lad, just a bit older than you,’ said Danny, grinning down at Robert.
Robert’s eyes widened in excitement and he turned to his father. Henry nodded. This was greeted with a squeal of delight by Robert. Henry looked on in pride. He was delighted by the interest shown by his son in the work that took place on the estate and the village. It was something he was keen to encourage. His own life had been more closeted. His mother had discouraged such interests. He was going to ensure his son had the widest possible exposure to life outside the narrow world of nobility.
They stopped at the main doors and Henry grew serious for a moment. He looked at Danny with some sadness.
‘What did you think of Reverend Simmons’ speech before the carols the other day?’
Danny nodded grimly and said, ‘We may be at war soon. My dad has been following this chap Hitler for years now. He’s been saying as much for a long time.’
‘I think you’re both right, sadly. Everything I hear about this b
eastly man leads me to believe he won’t stop at Austria and Czechoslovakia. From what I understand, there’s a growing disillusionment with the chances of maintaining peace. We lost a lot of men last time. I wonder if there’ll be so many stepping forward this time.’
‘I will,’ said Danny quietly.
‘I know your father was in the other lot. He may be against you doing this, and your mother,’ replied Henry.
‘They’ll understand. I think you’ll find the men of the village will still be prepared to do their bit.
‘For he to-day that sheds his blood with me Shall be my brother’ said Henry, almost to himself.
‘Henry the Fifth,’ said Danny.
Henry looked at Danny in surprise. Then he smiled, ‘Yes, forgive my surprise.’
‘I remember we read it at school. I quite liked it. Full of blood and thunder. I wish I’d read a bit more back then. I wasn’t very keen on school.’
‘I remember,’ laughed Henry. ‘If you have a moment, come this way, I want to show you something.
The two men and Robert walked into a nearby room which turned out to be the library. The room was full, from wall to ceiling, with books. Henry led Danny over to a photograph on the wall. It was very wide and showed an army battalion. The date read June 1914.
‘That’s my father there,’ said Henry pointing to an officer, sat in the middle.
Danny looked at Henry and nodded. Henry then led Danny over to the books. He picked a book from off the shelf. The title read, ‘The History Plays’. It was Shakespeare. He handed it to Danny.
‘A lot of blood and thunder in there. If you’re interested, you can keep it. We have a lot of Shakespeare as you can see.’
Danny looked at the book and laughed, ‘Thank you, sir. I’ll definitely have a read.’
As he said this, the door opened. Sarah and an older lady walked into the room. Sarah looked in surprise at Danny before her face returned to its usual cold mien.
‘Hello, my darling. I was just showing Danny our library. It transpires he likes Shakespeare.’
Sarah looked entirely dubious about this but said nothing.
