by Alex Brown
April turned her head to look at the horses over her shoulder and then with a sense of purpose headed back to the cottage. She’d call Molly and Pete right away, certain that between them they’d know what to do for the best.
‘Oh there you are, love.’ It was Deedee with a conspiratorial look on her face, standing on the path next to an older man with a very impressive moustache, wearing a paisley cravat and a navy blazer with two rows of gold buttons down the front.
‘Hello Deedee. I was just in the orchard …’ April said, feeling a sudden need to explain. Deedee and the gentleman exchanged looks before simultaneously stepping towards her. ‘Is everything OK? Is my aunt all right?’ She glanced at the cottage.
‘Oh yes, Edie is fine,’ the man assured her. ‘And she had a wonderful time dancing … but is having a little rest now on the settee. At her age, the waltz rather takes it out of her … especially after the seventh dance!’ He nodded, linking his hands behind his back and looking to Deedee to get to the point of whatever it was they really wanted to say. April inhaled through her nostrils and fixed a smile on her face as she had a feeling she might not like what she was about to hear.
‘Dear, I, er um … well, we wondered if you had a moment for a little chat?’ Deedee started, fiddling with her pashmina while giving the man a surreptitious sideway glance.
‘Sure, what’s the matter? Are you worried about the state of the garden? Because I’m going to be staying with my aunt now for a while to help out and just as soon as I’ve got organised I’ll make sure the land around the cottage and also the lane is tidy, the hedgerow too, even the orchards – I’ve just been to have a look and had no idea how overgrown it had got. I’ll be taking care of everything.’ April figured it best to cut to the chase as there was clearly something wrong. The stab of guilt about having neglected her aunt made a rapid return. She folded her arms and then quickly unfolded them, realising it made her look defensive, which wasn’t her intention at all. April was here to help and these people had been very kind in taking her aunt to the weekly speed-dating tea dance.
‘Oh no darling, don’t be worrying about all that stuff, the bushes and everything – I’ll get one of the farmers to sort them out.’
‘Thank you. Molly mentioned that Pete might help, I was about to call him,’ April offered, keen to show that she was already on the case.
‘Ooh, yes, good idea, and Pete owes me a favour in any case …’ Deedee batted her pashmina about for a bit and giggled like a hormone-fuelled schoolgirl, making April really not want to wonder what Deedee had done to warrant such a favour being owed. ‘Leave it with me …’
‘Well, that’s, um … very kind of you,’ April said.
‘My pleasure. I’ll get on to it right away and Pete will be here soon to clear the lane and plough the fields or whatever it is he does with that enormous tractor of his!’ Deedee said, her voice coated in innuendo. ‘Now, the matter we need to chat about is more troubling I’m afraid …’
‘Go on,’ April coaxed. And for the first time in their exchange, Deedee looked uncertain and hesitated before speaking.
‘Dear, it’s your aunt. I’m afraid she’s going a bit, er … well, not to put too fine a point on it …’
‘What Deedee means is that your aunt is going doolally …’ The man stepped in to take over and had now adopted a grave expression. ‘And hysterical!’ April winced at his use of the old-fashioned derogatory term. Her aunt was certainly struggling with her memory but she was very far from ‘doolally’ or ‘hysterical’.
Then Deedee, her face all flustered now, quickly jostled the man out of the way with her elbow.
‘What the general is trying to say, badly, my love, is that your aunt is getting muddled … confused, and she was very upset at this afternoon’s dance,’ Deedee explained rather more tactfully. So, April realised, this was the much-mentioned general. However, with that attitude April didn’t think he was a very suitable suitor for her aunt. Besides, he seemed at least twenty years younger than Edie. She hoped he wasn’t a gold-digger – you read about these things happening to little old ladies … April gave him a look before fixing a smile on her face.
‘What happened?’ she said, keeping eye contact with Deedee, and hoping the general would go back to his bus, which she presumed was parked further up the lane somewhere.
‘Your aunt was confused, she was saying something about Winnie having returned, but that now she’s gone again …’
‘Ahh, I see …’ April started, glancing at the ground.
‘Actually it’s not quite as simple as that,’ the general butted in again, only to be told:
‘Shush, let me explain please, sweetie,’ Deedee insisted, firmly.
The general seemed happy to bow to her authority. ‘As you wish, my flower. I’ll potter by the barn,’ and he put a bristly, moustachioed kiss on Deedee’s cheek before swiftly escaping down the path to the almost derelict old apple barn by the back orchard.
‘Don’t mind him, he means well – a retired military man you see, he can be very blunt, it comes from years of running around with a rucksack on his back in the blazing desert and then having to survive on those titchy little powdered meals that come in a packet!’ Deedee indicated the size with her thumb and index finger. ‘Survival of the fittest and all that.’ She paused while April’s mind boggled at her logic … ‘I’ll have a word with him later. We’re trying the new Indian restaurant this evening, the one up overlooking the village green, do you know it?’ Deedee inquired.
‘Um, yes … I saw it earlier when I was in the village,’ April said, wondering if this meant that Deedee and the general were a unlikely couple – they seemed like polar opposites, her vivaciousness to his staid pomposity – but if that was the case, then where did Edie fit in? April immediately felt protective of her aunt.
‘Your aunt has a soft spot for the general and, well, he’s very fond of her too, she reminds him of his dear old mother … so he always escorts her into the tea dance, that is OK, isn’t it? Only he’s been doing it for quite some time now so it would be a shame for our lovely Edie to miss out.’ Deedee seemed to sense April’s anxiety, ‘But if you’d rather he didn’t any more …?’
‘Oh, yes. Of course he must … that’s very kind of him.’ April breathed an inward sigh of relief that her aunt’s relationship with the old-school, bordering-on-rude general wasn’t anything more than an innocent arrangement. Edie clearly enjoyed the attention from him, so where was the harm?
‘Jolly good.’ Deedee patted her arm before adopting a serious face again. ‘Now, let me tell you what happened this afternoon, but before I do, please know that we all care and nobody was judging … we don’t do that.’ She shook her head so vehemently that it made her softly layered hair swish around her face. ‘If we did, then most of the tea dance attendees would have been locked up by now. Honestly, they’re all blooming bananas. And I’m the worst! You know, I put my best bubble bath in the freezer instead of the bathroom cabinet the other day … well, it was actually my Meg’s, Dan bought it for her for her birthday, very expensive, and she went berserk, but anyway, can you imagine? ROCK SOLID it was when we realised. I’m losing my mind, going doolally as the general would say.’ Deedee rolled her eyes and whirled an index finger round in a loop at her temple as she patted April’s arm with her free hand. ‘Anyway, to cut a long story short, your aunt has been talking about someone called Winnie, whoever she is, for quite some time now, months in fact, and has become somewhat obsessed. And today, right after the rumba she started crying and wringing her hands … it was truly pitiful, poor dear.’
‘Oh no! Really? That’s so sad, poor Edie. Do you have any idea why?’
‘Not really, dear. It just seemed to come out of the blue. One minute she was all glowing cheeks from all that hip-shimmying … but then she just seemed to crumble.’
‘Thanks for letting me know,’ April said, remembering the sobbing old lady in the Alzheimer’s documentary. She was keen to ch
eck on her aunt right away and went to walk up the path but then stopped when Deedee added:
‘And then she said that now you were here, Winnie would never return because if she did, then you would send her away! She was inconsolable at one point, crying like a young girl she was. I’m so sorry, April.’
‘Really? But it doesn’t make sense … Winnie is her sister, my other great aunt.’ April shook her head, racking her brains trying to work out what to do for the best. ‘And why would I send Winnie away?’
‘I’ve no idea, darling, she did seem very confused and muddled. But the strangest thing is, when we got your aunt calmed down and had given her one of her favourite Garibaldi biscuits to dunk in her Earl Grey, she had a perfectly lucid moment and said that Winnie left Tindledale on a bus in 1941 and never came back. She could even remember what she was wearing when she waved her off in the village square: “a smart new uniform”. And it was a gloriously warm day and therefore too hot for her coat which she took with her anyway, folded over her arm, Edie said. She recalled it all in such detail,’ Deedee said, shaking her head again.
‘Wow, that’s fascinating,’ April said, making a mental note to see if she could engage her aunt more on this topic later. Maybe if she mentioned the bus and the uniform, she might remember more. ‘It really is something that she can recall such events from decades ago, but then struggle with present-day detail,’ April said, thinking about Edie’s snowball recollection from earlier but then getting muddled over April’s name.
‘I know darling. Heartbreaking!’ Deedee pressed a hand to her chest. ‘Then Bill piped up, he’s our oldest dancer – holding out for his telegram from the Queen next year, and he’s not really a dancer as such, he’s in a wheelchair now, but he manages to bob along to the beat, nonetheless – anyway, he said that Winnie joined the FANY!’
Silence lingered as April took in the news.
‘Ahh, that explains the uniform.’
‘Yes, Bill may have dementia, but when it comes to details from years back then he’s sharp as a pin. He was the village postman for years and years and all the way through the war, he had a medical exemption apparently but that didn’t stop him from doing his bit on the home front. He told us all about it – said it was his duty to keep a keen eye on all the Tindledale residents when delivering their letters. Loose lips and all that! Fascinating it was, listening to him telling us who had lived where. Generations of families still in the same house, rather like your aunt – she’s lived here at Orchard Cottage for donkey’s years. Anyway, Bill said he remembers delivering the official letter to Winnie from the War Office. And the whole family had been ever so excited and proud that she had been accepted into the FANY. But she never came back.’ Deedee paused and lowered her voice before continuing. ‘And then one of the other old dears said there was some tittle-tattle at the time, something to do with Winnie and a married man, and then it all went a bit hush-hush she said …’
‘Fascinating. And I wonder how I could find out more …’ April said, making a mental note to visit Hettie as Molly had suggested; perhaps she would know about the married man. Maybe that’s why Winnie didn’t come home … April imagined being involved with a married man would have caused quite a scandal in those days. Perhaps she felt ashamed? But April didn’t want to speculate, no, she wanted to know the truth. This gem of information was like finding a crucial piece of a puzzle. Very intriguing. And April wanted to know more.
‘Tell you what, sweetheart, I’ll get the general to do some more digging – he’s a keen historian. His father was awarded an OBE, you know, so I’m sure he’ll get to the bottom of it and find out where Winnie is. And then we can all put it to rest and Edie won’t get distressed any more. At her time of life she shouldn’t have to shoulder such a concern,’ Deedee offered.
April nodded, still deep in thought, but then a bizarrely abstract thought popped into her head: how on earth could having a father with an OBE possibly help in the search for a woman who went missing during the war? Connections maybe? Who knew? It was a mystery, but one thing April did know was that she was determined to get to the bottom of this particular mystery and find out exactly what happened to her great aunt Winnie, the woman in the tea dress with the beautiful, sunny smile. And more importantly, Deedee was right … Great Aunt Edie really shouldn’t be so concerned to the point of tears, but April was here to look after her now. And that was exactly what she was going to do!
After saying goodbye to Deedee, April went into the cottage to find her aunt sitting on the settee watching TV. April sat down beside her and put an arm around her tiny frame before gently pulling her in close. Edie let her body relax into April and the two women sat in silence for a while.
And then April had an idea.
Ten minutes later, she had set up the card table, arranged the macaroons from The Spotted Pig café on to a plate, found the Advocaat and a dusty bottle of lemonade and a jar of glacé cherries in the pantry (they’d have to do), poured them both a snowball and they were playing rummy … just like the old days. And that’s when Edie started talking. All the while fiddling with the cards in between her age-gnarled fingers.
‘I’m ever so sorry, my dear …’
‘What on earth for, Aunty? You have nothing to apologise about …’ April kept her voice soft and encouraging the way she used to when on the ward with a vulnerable patient.
‘For making a show of myself. I heard Deedee through the open window telling you all about my making a scene at the tea dance.’ April swivelled her head to the side of the sitting room and sure enough the window was wide open. Damn! She sincerely hoped her aunt had been dozing when the ‘doolally’ comment was made. ‘What must you think of me?’ Edie twisted the tissue some more.
‘That you’re a lovely, caring lady who misses her sister and wants to know what happened to her. There’s nothing wrong with that …’ April soothed, leaning across the table to touch the top of her aunt’s hand.
Edie’s tense shoulders relaxed in relief.
‘Oh, you’ve always been a kind girl, April, and after all the heartache you’ve been through – losing your parents at such a young age and then dear Gray, I always had a soft spot for him. He was such a character …’ Ahh, so she hadn’t forgotten about him after all! ‘Life can be wretched sometimes – and there’s many folk that would be quite jaded and bitter by the experiences you’ve had, but not my April. Always bonny in the face of adversity, aren’t you, my love?’ Edie smiled, sounding very lucid indeed as she scrutinised her hand of cards.
‘I do try. And thank you, Aunty.’
‘What for?’ Edie asked sharply, glancing up.
‘You know, I’m not entirely sure,’ April smiled, and then, after contemplating momentarily, added, ‘for coming back to me I guess.’
She shrugged and nodded slowly. ‘I’ll always be here, maybe not in body one day, but certainly in spirit. And in the meantime you must make the most of your stay here. Promise me that you will?’
‘I will, I promise.’ April gently squeezed her aunt’s hand by way of confirmation.
‘That’s a girl!’ Edie nodded and took a big sip of her snowball. ‘Because we really can’t have you being so quiet like you have been since you arrived.’ April went to talk, but her aunt interjected. ‘I know dear, it’s the loss and it takes time, but let me tell you something, darling – this place, Orchard Cottage, is special, and it’s been my home my whole life. I was born right up there,’ Edie stopped to point a bony finger at the ceiling above their heads, ‘my parents’ bedroom! It’s my room now of course.’ April waited politely, having heard before all about the numerous home births over the years at Orchard Cottage. ‘And this might sound a bit cuckoo, but the cottage will heal you. Help you come to terms with your loss, give you a new life if you let it. That’s its magic. Have faith, my dear, and it will make you whole again. They say that some houses have spirits and this one most certainly does. It’s been the one constant in my life, always here to comfort
me, see me through the bad times, and trust me … like lots of people I’ve had my share …’ Edie’s voice tailed off.
‘Have you?’ April asked, delicately, hoping to engage her aunt.
‘Oh yes! I’ve suffered loss too, dear … everyone’s gone now. My parents. My brothers, not to mention poor Bobby.’
‘Bobby?’
‘Bobby was very nearly my husband.’
‘I never knew …’ April smiled, placed her cards on the table and waited patiently. ‘What happened to Bobby?’
‘It was the nerves, my dear.’ Edie shook her head and picked at the corner of the green baize on the card table. ‘Bobby was my sweetheart from school days … his father owned the ironmongers in the village, it’s not there any more, but, well … he was never the same after the war. The last time I saw him …’ Edie paused, took another sip of her drink and then added, ‘Bobby said it wouldn’t be fair to burden me with his night terrors. And then he went off to London. Next I heard, he had joined the merchant navy and then fell overboard several years later.’ Silence followed. Edie closed her eyes momentarily, deep in thought, and then added, ‘Well, that’s what they said, but his parents heard from one of the other men that poor Bobby’s night terrors had overwhelmed him to the point where the bottom of the cold, dark sea seemed a more preferable place to be than the one inside his head, and he jumped.’
‘Aunty, I’m so very sorry.’
‘I was too. But it was a very common thing in those days, and is it any wonder with the horrors they witnessed … Bobby was a country boy, not a soldier,’ she said, pragmatically. ‘But you know the thing I missed most about not marrying?’
‘What’s that?’
‘Having babies. I would have liked to have had a little girl or boy of my own. And then there would have been someone to keep you company too … look out for you. Will you be OK when I’m gone?’
