by Rosie James
‘But if I can make better money over there, Cissy, you wouldn’t need to work!’ Albert said, ‘And we’d own our own cottage, not have to rent someone else’s! Think about that!’
Cecilia was thinking about that, but she was also thinking that however rosy Albert Martin viewed his newest prospects, he would never be happy with the situation for long. He would be searching for pastures new – perhaps on yet another distant shore – and if he has his way she and the children would be left in close proximity with his family, people she’d never ever seen before, in a land she’d never been to before.
Later, after Phoebe and Joe were in bed, Cecilia said, ‘Well, I am very glad that you’ve been doing so well on the road, Albert, and the children loved the presents you brought them. But Lexi has some news of her own – don’t you, Lexi?’
And for the next half an hour Albert heard all about the sweet shop having been sold, and of the Pump Room performances being halted.
He sat back in his chair, his thumbs hooked in the sides of his waistcoat as he listened. Then, standing up, he took a large packet from his holdall, and put it down on the table.
‘You may have stopped earning, Lexi,’ he said, ‘but as I’ve already said – there’s enough here for us all to be going on with! Count that lot!’
Cecilia, got up and stared down at the huge wad of notes in front of them. Albert was right. He had been doing very well indeed in the land of his birth. But it still was not enough to persuade her to join him over there. Certainly not yet, and probably not ever.
Meanwhile, Lexi thought this was a good moment to tell her father – and her mother – about how, thanks to Mr McCann, she’d increased her savings to an unbelievable amount.
‘So you see, Dada, Mama,’ Lexi said, ‘I am not going to stop there. I shall find work somewhere else so that I can buy more and more shares.’ She didn’t look at her mother as she spoke, but Lexi could see her father’s eyes shining.
‘We always knew we had a clever girl in you, Lexi!’ Albert said. ‘Didn’t we, Cissy?’
After a moment, Cecilia said slowly – ‘Yes, Lexi is very good at what she does, and always has been. And one day I am sure she will achieve what she wants. But I keep telling her not to take on so much responsibility, there is no need for her wear herself out at her young age.’
Cecilia didn’t know that Lexi had already looked for one or two counter shops in the town with no luck so far - apart from the butcher’s, which she had promptly turned down. Cutting up and selling meat from dead animals was one thing she would not do. Compared with that, even working at the laundry would seem pleasant – and whether her mother liked it or not, Lexi would seek some shifts there. Doing the housework and the shopping and looking out for Phoebe and Joe was all very well, but it didn’t earn money.
It was getting late. Lexi had already bid them goodnight, and presently, Albert stood up, yawning. ‘It’s time for our bed, isn’t it, Cissy my sweetheart?’ he said. He yawned again, loudly. ‘It’s good to be back with you all, back home.’ He grinned. ‘Even if it might not be our home for very much longer, if I have my way!’
Cecilia followed him up the stairs, her face a study. Don’t count your chickens, Albert Martin …
Chapter Nineteen
The following July, came a day which Anna Hobbs was never likely to forget.
It was 7.30 on Friday and Lexi had just returned with the rents.
‘You are getting so quick at this, Lexi,’ Anna said. ‘It sometimes used to be 8 o’clock and gone before you and Johnny came back!’ Anna turned to the stove. ‘Would you like a cup of tea? I’m just making myself one.’
Lexi put the heavy bag of coins on to the table and pulled out a chair to sit down. ‘I’d love one, please, Anna,’ she said. ‘For some reason I’ve been feeling tired all day today.’
Well that was no surprise, Anna thought. Lexi not only did all the housework, and cooked the meals at the cottage, and cared for her younger sister and brother, she also now worked four morning shifts at the laundry which meant a very early start each day. And every Friday she collected the rents, she was never known to miss. No wonder Lexi was feeling tired.
Sitting opposite each other at the table drinking their tea, Anna said – ‘Just three more weeks and the boys will be home again.’ She glanced at Lexi. ‘Have you heard from Johnny?’
‘Oh yes,’ Lexi replied. ‘He writes to me regularly – unless he’s too busy. But I haven’t heard from him this week so he’s probably studying for exams again.’ She paused. ‘It’ll be so good to see him again … and Alfred, too, of course,’ she added.
Just then, in the distance, they heard the front door bell ring, and Anna raised her eyes. She didn’t think Mr McCann was expecting any visitors – and certainly not at this time of the day.
Lexi finished her drink and stood up. ‘I’d better be off because I promised to pop up to the café in case Mr. Bakewell needs me this evening – and there’s still the ironing to do.’ She made a face. ‘Mama has been working flat out to complete the summer suit she is making for Mr McCann.’
‘Yes, I saw the cream linen material when I was up at the cottage,’ Anna said. ‘He’s going to look very smart in it. Perfect for his colouring.’
Lexi was about to let herself out of the house when they heard frantic steps racing down the stairs. Then the door to the kitchen crashed open and Reynard burst in, his hair all over the place and his face as white as a sheet.
Anna got to her feet at once. What on earth had happened? What was going on? Lexi remained where she was, not knowing whether to stay or to make herself scarce.
For a moment, hardly able to say a word, Reynard stood there holding a piece of paper in his hands – which were visibly shaking. Then he threw the piece of paper on to the table for Anna to look at.
‘Mr McCann?’ Anna said uncertainly. ‘What is it?’
‘Read it! Read it!’ He was almost explosive with rage.
Still standing, Anna picked up the paper and read quickly. It had come by special delivery from the college, and after she’d read the final paragraph she looked up at Reynard, her eyes full of tears.
‘Oh no, Mr McCann,’ she said quietly, putting the paper down on the table.
‘I’m afraid it’s “Oh yes”, Anna,’ he said tersely.
For a few seconds after that there was complete silence, with Lexi feeling so awkward that she didn’t know what to do with herself. Why had she stayed for that cup of tea? It seemed that on this particular day her presence was not required at Grey Gables.
Reynard picked up the paper and read it again, as if hoping he could change what it said. But the message was concise enough. The senior year at the college had been on a three day field trip on Salisbury Plain and the tutor in charge had not realized that one of their students was not accounted for.
But it was the final sentence which had made Reynard’s blood first boil with rage, and now begin to freeze slowly in his veins.
“All efforts were made to contact Alfred but to no avail. While admiring his valiant determination to serve his country, the college realizes that this will come as a shock to you, as it has to us. We will keep you informed of any developments in this unfortunate matter.”
As he slowly began to calm down, Reynard realized that Lexi was there and he stared at her, his face still ashen. Then –
‘I am sure you will be interested to learn, Miss Martin, that my elder son will not be home for the summer holidays, nor indeed for any holidays in the immediate future.’
‘Mr McCann?’ Lexi said, ‘I’m afraid I don’t understand.’
‘No, and neither do I,’ Reynard said, ‘but the fact remains that Alfred has volunteered for war.’
Reynard’s voice broke with emotion as he added –
‘By now he is probably already in uniform and on his way to France.’
With some surprise, Lexi realized that, after all, she wasn’t looking forward to Johnny coming home for the summer hol
idays, not without Alfred being there as well – especially given the reason for his absence. It was obvious that the surprise news had been totally unexpected, and it had upset everyone, upset them all.
And when Lexi and Johnny were out strolling together on the first Sunday evening, all they could think or talk about was Alfred.
‘As for poor Anna,’ Johnny said, ‘I think she is even more upset than my father – and he still can’t quite believe it.’
‘I don’t think any of us can,’ Lexi said. ‘Because he has seemed more dedicated to his college work recently, hasn’t he? Last time you were both home he said how hard he was working for his exams. There was certainly no talk of war.’
Johnny’s mouth curled slightly. ‘My brother can be very devious when he feels like it. I was talking to some of the students in his year after we heard, and they told me that he’d had every intention of joining up. Had it all planned.’
Lexi sighed, holding Johnny’s hand more tightly. ‘You … you wouldn’t go off like that, would you Johnny – without telling anyone?’ she said.
‘No, I wouldn’t,’ Johnny said, ‘but Alfred has always been a law unto himself. And nothing will alter that.’ Johnny waited before going on more slowly. ‘It does mean that I must spend more of the holiday with Dad this time, Lexi … he needs at least one of us with him at the moment. He always works so hard to give Alfred and me everything we need, to give us a good life.’
Deciding to change the subject, Johnny said – ‘In one of your letters you told me that the sweet shop has opened at last, have you met the new owner?’
‘No, I have not,’ Lexi said, ‘because I cannot bring myself to even step inside now that Miss Lewis has gone.’ Lexi shook her head sadly. ‘Miss Lewis said that she informed the new people of my name and address, and told them I am very experienced and that it would be in their interests to employ me. But I have heard nothing from them, so that’s the end of it for me. I’m obviously not wanted – and anyway the couple who’ve bought the shop have two teenage daughters who can work there for nothing, can’t they?’
Johnny hugged her to him, but didn’t make any comment. He knew how much Lexi had loved her time at the sweet shop – her work at the laundry sounded much less agreeable, but she seemed determined to carry on with it despite her mother’s objections.
‘Have you heard from your father lately?’ Johnny asked. Lexi had told him in one of her letters that Albert wanted them all to go and live in Ireland with him and his huge family.
Lexi smiled wryly. ‘Yes – he has apparently already started building the foundations for our cottage,’ she said, ‘but my mother isn’t impressed.’ Lexi glanced up. ‘Dada is so lovely, and so kind,’ she said slowly, ‘but he can’t keep his feet on the ground for very long … he just can’t. While my mother is the exact opposite. Which is a good thing for me and Phoebe and Joe.’
It was quite late when the two arrived at the café, and all the customers appeared to have left. But when the owner saw Lexi and Johnny, his face lit up and he came over to speak to them.
‘What a good thing my little accountant has arrived!’ he said heartily. ‘I was just cashing up and to tell the truth my arthritis is playing me up something awful today. I could really do with some young fingers on the job, if you can spare a few minutes.’
‘Of course we can, Mr. Bakewell,’ Lexi said at once, ‘but not until we’ve bought a couple of custard tarts … if there are any left!’
The owner smiled. ‘There are always custard tarts for you, Lexi,’ he said, turning to go back inside. ‘I made a fresh batch this afternoon, so you sit yourselves down and I’ll bring them over.’
Presently, sitting outside with them at the table, Bert Bakewell shook his head. ‘The news from the front gets worse and worse every day,’ he said gravely. ‘Some of the things coming out in the news makes me feel grateful that I’m past the age when I’d be any use in the war machine.’
Lexi and Johnny exchanged glances, then Johnny said – ‘I don’t expect you know, Mr. Bakewell, but my brother – Alfred – has enlisted. We didn’t know he was going to do it, and we have no idea where he is, either.’
The owner sat back. No, he had not heard about that. ‘Well, so many youngsters have volunteered,’ he said, ‘and they are very courageous, each and every one of them.’ He cleared his throat. ‘We must just pray that your brother gets through this and comes back safely, Johnny.’ Bert Bakewell did not go on to point out that hundreds and hundreds of men had already lain down their lives, nor that the war showed no sign of coming to an end. Rather the reverse – more and more men were being urged to join up to face the large and well-equipped enemy.
Facts had to be faced. The country was entrenched in a savage war, and there was no going back.
Chapter Twenty
It was October before Lexi began singing again at the Pump Room. And although she would never admit it to anyone, the excitement she used to feel every time she stepped up on to the platform seemed to have deserted her. Of course she put on a brave face and smiled and sang her sweetest, with new songs she’d practiced, but the fact remained that somehow her heart was only partly in it.
The other thing she would never acknowledge – and certainly not to her mother – was that she did find the laundry hot and exhausting. And she hated the smell of washing powder and disinfectant that lingered in her hair and clothes for a long time after she’d left the place.
But Lexi knew the main reason why she felt unusually low in spirit. It was all about Alfred having gone off. Even though she had never liked him that much – not really – it was horrible to think of him in danger, and in a foreign country, even if it was his own fault that he was over there. It had made Anna look permanently worried and upset, and as for Mr McCann – well, he had gone back to being the silent, miserable person Lexi had once been so afraid of.
Johnny had kept to his word and had spent most of the summer holiday with his father, going out on sites with him, and spending time in the study to talk and to listen … who else did Reynard have to unburden his soul to, to share his innermost feelings with?
But Johnny had also made sure that he escaped to be with Lexi some evenings – though sometimes it had to be in the cottage with Cecilia there as well.
The sad fact remained. News about the war, and Alfred’s disappearance, had put a blight on all of them, and it seemed wrong to try and enjoy yourself, or to feel happy about anything.
Then, out of the blue, in the middle of October a brief letter from Alfred arrived at Grey Gables to say that he was in an artillery regiment and training as a Lewis machine gunner. And that he was feeling fine. Not a word of explanation or apology to his father, or to Anna. And although Reynard seemed relieved to hear something from his son, however small, the rather cocky brevity of the message only hardened Reynard’s feelings. What had he, Reynard, done to make Alfred so determined to have his own way about everything, every time? With so little thought of the anxiety it would cause?
Christmas 1915 was not one which most people would remember with much pleasure. How could they, with the war raging across the channel and food shortages in the shops bringing the conflict right into the lives of those at home. So far, it had largely been a soldiers’ war, but now it was everyone’s war. And who knew how and when it would end?
Yet despite that, the festive season had been modestly celebrated at the cottage, with little presents for each other. Lexi had bought a pair of bright stud earrings for Cecilia, who seemed permanently tired after a bout of ‘flu that she couldn’t get rid of, and who needed cheering up. Especially as yet another Christmas would come and go with no sign of Albert, or even a card from him.
But just as important, was the present Lexi had asked her mother to make for Mr Bakewell. After all, he lived by himself and had no relatives that anyone knew about to give him anything. It was a pair of navy blue gloves – fingerless so that he wouldn’t have to take them off when handling money, and there was a w
hite anchor stitched on the back to remind him of his life at sea. Not that he needed reminding – he had a flawless memory of his past life and could recount every detail – as Lexi nearly could, too, having heard it all so often.
At Grey Gables, Anna had done her very best to keep up the traditions – for Johnny’s sake if nothing else. There’d been a penny or two and the usual mince pie each for the young carol singers who’d arrived on Christmas Eve – the small ritual having taken place ever since Anna had been in charge.
And despite the undeniable reduction of stock in the shops – some had even had to queue for potatoes – the family at Grey Gables had had their turkey and Christmas pudding.
But it had been difficult without Alfred there as well, especially after his greeting card had arrived on the Wednesday of Christmas week. On the front was a picture of a robin perched on a snowy bough, and in the background was a large house, also snow-covered. And on the drive leading up to the front door there were small carol singers carrying lanterns. Inside were the words –
“Where I am at the moment does not exactly resemble this jolly scene, but can’t say too much. Not sure what’s happening to me next, but so far all OK. The house on the card reminded me of home. Wish Anna was in charge of the food here! Christmas greetings to you all, including the Martins. Alfred.”
Reynard had brought the card down to the kitchen to show Anna, and he had made no comment, his expression resentful. But Anna had clutched it to her, not bothering to hide her tears of relief. Her bad boy was obviously still in one piece, and what touched her most was that it seemed that Alfred the Great was actually a bit homesick, and missing them all.
If it hadn’t been that Johnny was home for a couple of weeks, and that Lexi regularly popped in, the mood in the house would have been much less bearable – for everyone. Anna had noticed, more than once, that every time Lexi came in Mr McCann did seem to cheer up, if only for an hour or two.
