‘I’m sorry, Madge. My mother telephoned me just now. James didn’t come back last night. He’s missing…’
‘… presumed dead,’ Madge finished dully, knowing the exact words. She glanced towards the large-paned glass windows of what had previously been the toy department of the store. The rain that had been falling for what seemed like forever showed no signs of abating. It will never be sunny again, she thought.
‘Gregory, you’re excused from duties for the rest of the day.’ Sergeant Briscoe stood before her. ‘Go to your room and rest, but I don’t have to remind you that you won’t be the only one to lose someone. We have to get on with it.’
Madge couldn’t speak. Couldn’t even utter the expected ‘Ma’am.’
‘Go with her, Montgomery, and then you’ll need to take over in the kitchen. We still have to eat.’
Five months had passed since that hot September day when she and James had discovered Holly Close Farm and Arthur had found them both there together. Five wonderful months when Madge had fallen more and more in love with this heavenly human being and James had reciprocated that love in every way possible. She was unable to tell herself she was luckier than most: that he’d so far managed to survive the carnage in the skies over France and Germany; that she’d had him to herself for almost seven months, meeting up with her whenever he could; at the end of the telephone when he couldn’t. Making her laugh with his ridiculous humour, making her cry when he had to leave her – often after stolen nights in the house at Eaton Square – after making love to her with such skilled hands, she’d given herself completely to him. Instead of being grateful for what she’d had, she felt only fury. Fury with every German who’d ever lived, fury with James’s father for constantly reminding James that nothing could come of their relationship, but most of all total fury with James himself for leaving her when he’d told her that he could never leave her.
Madge continued to watch the relentless rain from her room at the very top of the training school, watched the grey clouds gather and roll, and knew a part of her had died too.
*
‘Madge, Sergeant Briscoe wants to see you.’ Beryl popped her head round Madge’s bedroom door. Four terrible, interminable days had passed; days when Madge had risen dutifully from her bed at the usual time, carried out her tasks, walked in the rain and the dark up to the gates of Regent’s Park just to remember and, shoes swimming in water, walked back to start the whole cycle once more.
‘Gregory, this might not be the best time, but then again, perhaps it might. Your new posting has come through.’
‘But I want to stay here. I don’t want to leave London.’ Madge could hardly breathe.
‘Not yours to argue the toss, I’m afraid, Gregory.’ Briscoe was stern, but then her tone softened. ‘Look, Madge, I know what’s been going on with your viscount. It could never have come to anything, you know: wartime fairy tales always fizzle out – and this was one hell of a fairy tale. You must see that?’ Briscoe became matter of fact: ‘Now, your posting is back up north. Presumably near your family? You’re dismissed. Go on. You’ve a week left here before you leave.’
Madge mounted the stairs back to her room, every step an effort, but was called back down before she’d started on the second flight.
‘Madge. Visitor.’
‘Who is it?’ For one wild moment Madge wondered if it could be Ursula Montgomery-West come to find her, to share her grief with her.
‘Dunno. Sorry. Got to dash. Off to the pictures.’ Nora sped off back down the stairs and into the wet night, and Madge slowly retraced her steps back down.
‘Arthur? What do you think you’re doing here? Have you got some leave?’ Arthur was waiting just inside the little lobby, his hair and uniform wet through.
‘Madge, I’m sorry. I’ve come to say I’m sorry. I know how much that officer meant to you and now he’s dead.’
‘He might not be,’ Madge shouted wildly. ‘He’s missing. They don’t know he’s dead.’
‘I’m sorry, love. He’s dead. Proper confirmation came to the base today. I heard it from the group captain himself. Four planes didn’t make it back the other night.’
Madge closed her eyes and then sat down on the cold stone steps. ‘I’ve been posted. Harrogate.’
‘Oh.’
‘And you might as well know, because you will soon enough, I’m having a baby.’
‘His?’
‘Of course, his,’ Madge snapped.
‘They won’t let you stay in the WAAF.’
‘Of course they won’t.’ A tear rolled unheeded down her cheek.
‘Will your mam and dad have you home?’
‘I can’t tell her.’ Madge raised her eyes for the first time. ‘You know what a big churchgoer she is. Biggest sin in the book, to have a baby without being married. My gran would never shut up about it.’ Fat tears rolled down her cheeks and she put her head down onto her arms and wept silently.
‘I’ll wed you, Madge. You know I will. I’ll treat the baby like it were my own. You know I would, Madge. You know it’s what I’ve always wanted. You, me and our baby.’
Madge lifted her head and stared. ‘But it wouldn’t be your baby.’
‘But it’s your baby. I’ll look after you both, Madge. We’ll get married straight away. No one’ll know it’s not mine.’ Arthur put his arms round her. ‘It’ll be all right, Madge. It’ll all be all right.’
*
Nancy stared at Madge. ‘Why have you never told me this, Mother? How dare you never tell me this?’ She got up from the table and took the edge of it in her hands, shaking it so viciously that what was left on Madge’s plate slid onto her lap and her wine spilled onto her new Christmas cardigan.
‘Granny, leave her alone.’ I took Madge’s hand while mopping at her wet cardigan with a paper napkin and was shocked at how cold and frail she felt.
‘Leave her alone?’ Nancy was breathing hard, spittle forming at the sides of her mouth. ‘I’ll shake her until she tells me every damned thing. She’s kept this from me for nearly seventy years.’
‘At least he was posh,’ Mum snapped, joining me at Madge’s side and glaring at Nancy. ‘Your father was a Viking, for heaven’s sake.’
‘A Viking…?’ Nancy stared, momentarily nonplussed.
‘A viscount.’ Despite the awfulness of the whole situation, Daisy, I could tell, wanted to giggle.
‘At least you knew your real father, Kate, and he wasn’t a murderer or… or some mythical creature dragged back into the present where madam here, for some reason only known to herself, suddenly deigns to bring him.’ Nancy was still breathing hard, glaring both at Mum and Madge.
‘Knew my real father? Are you daft or drunk, Mother?’ It was Mum’s turn to spin like a modern-day Valkyrie. ‘I never really knew him. You made sure of that. The closest I got to him was when he was on the top of the utility cupboard with Gin and Tonic.’
‘What? What are you talking about?’ Nancy frowned at Mum, who was dabbing at her flushed neck and forehead with her Rudolph the Reindeer napkin. ‘And sage tea, you’ll find, Kate, is good for hot sweats.’
‘Come on, you two.’ I jumped in between them. ‘It’s Christmas.’
‘Yes, and I’ve always hated it.’ Mum grabbed a table mat, wafting it up and down in front of her as a makeshift fan. ‘I’m definitely off to Costa Rica next year, even if I have to go by myself.’
‘Madge?’ I stared at my great-grandmother’s face. Something wasn’t right. ‘Mum, there’s something wrong with her…’
‘Oh Jesus, get your father…’
‘He’s a vet, not a bloody doctor.’ Daisy took control. ‘I’m ringing for an ambulance.’
26
‘You’re not going to let your aversion to joining in with Josh’s Christmas swingers come between you and a damned good builder, are you?’ It was a bitterly cold Monday morning in January, the first day back at work for everyone after the excesses of Christmas and New Year, much of wh
ich Daisy, Mum, Nancy and I had spent at Midhope General, sitting at Madge’s bedside on the stroke ward. Daisy, dressed against the cold in thermals, and buttering a pile of toast, gave me a searching look.
‘Daisy,’ I said, pulling on another jumper and searching for my gloves, ‘I am a professional. It is totally irrelevant that my builder appears to get his rocks off from dressing up as characters from films and books before indulging in group sex. Just as long as he doesn’t appear on site thinking he’s the Duke of Edinburgh after watching The Crown and expect you, me and Seb Henderson to indulge his ridiculous fantasies.’
‘Ooh, if Seb Henderson is part of the indulgence, count me in.’ Daisy’s eyes gleamed as she crammed a slice of the toast into her mouth. ‘I wouldn’t mind being Princess Margaret if Seb was… what was he called?
‘Group Captain Townsend,’ I said vaguely. ‘Look, Daisy, this is the start,’ I snapped, ignoring her banter. ‘Our very first site meeting with everyone on board. I want to get on with it, no messing. I’m going to do this properly and check out all the builders, plumbers and electricians Josh is working with, myself. He might be the builder, but I’m project manager and I’m in charge.’
‘Blimey, you are up yourself this morning.’
‘New year, new project, Daisy,’ I sniffed, importantly. ‘Dominic will not get a second thought, nor will Josh, apart from seeing how he behaves professionally. I am done with men. All I’m interested in now is my work. This is my very first project as The Lady Builder and it has to be superb. Come on, we’re not going to be late on our very first day on site.’ I glanced at Daisy, who was laughing and pulling a cross-eyed face at me as she’d done when we were kids, and I started to laugh myself. I was becoming a pompous pillock. I threw one of Madge’s cushions at her head and went to give her a hug.
*
‘You all right?’ Josh had the grace to look embarrassed. He and five of his men were already waiting down at Holly Close Farm. It was only seven thirty and still dark; it seemed a long way off until the lighter mornings of spring. ‘You know, after… you know…’
‘I do know, Josh, and I am totally fine. Hey, what you get up to in your spare time has absolutely nothing to do with me. I’m sure your, er, games and your other little habit will not reflect on your professional workmanship.’ I gave him an on/off smile; he just seemed a bit pathetic in the cold light of day.
Josh reddened and glanced round at his workers, who were loading up their gear and heading for the cottage. It had been decided that, as in effect the cottage still belonged within our family and there was still quite a bit of legal work and planning to sort out with the farm building itself, we’d start there. ‘Ssh, Charlie. I’m their boss.’
‘Fine, but don’t forget who is in overall charge round here.’
Josh gave me his now familiar grin. ‘I’ve always liked a woman who can dominate.’
I looked him up and down. What a wally. ‘Let’s get one thing straight, Josh. You caught me at a vulnerable time when I came back home. I’m not a bit interested in any extra-curricular activities you might be thinking of. I know you’re a damned good builder. And that’s all. Right, shall we get going?’
Suitably chastised, Josh shouted over a small dark-haired man, around my age, who was in the process of issuing instructions to the other men. ‘Charlie, this is Matis Miniauskiene. He’ll be the site manager when I’m not here.’
I held out my hand. ‘Hi, Matis. I’m sure we can both pull together and get this show on the road.’
Matis frowned. ‘Sis show? I’s a builder, Charlie, not some actor putting on shows. And where is sis roads?’
I looked at Josh. Was I going to be taken literally at everything I said to this man?
Josh laughed at the look on my face. ‘Matis is from Lithuania. He’s a bloody good builder, as is his brother, Gatis. It does get a bit confusing as they obviously have the same surname. You’ve met Gatis, manager down on the Westenbury site. Gatis and Matis Miniauskiene have more experience of building than anyone I know.’
‘Right.’
‘S’right,’ Matis grinned. ‘You leaves it all to me. No one’s better.’ He grinned again, showing immaculate white teeth. Gosh, he was very attractive, if you liked that sort of short dark hairy type. He suddenly turned to the labourers, who had stopped what they were doing and were laughing at something one of them had obviously just said. ‘Oy, yous lot, on wis its. Sis is building sites not bloody Butlins.’
I spent the morning talking to Josh’s men, had an on-site meeting with Seb and David Henderson, who assured me the final papers for the farm and land would be ready for signing in a couple of weeks, rang the hospital to check on Madge and then, realising I was famished, joined Daisy. We sat on an ancient bench facing the perimeter fence of the farm and the view down the valley, two slight dips in the stonework showing where other bottoms had previously sat over the years, and ate the ham and piccalilli sandwiches we’d brought with us.
‘Funny to think Madge and James probably sat together on this seat,’ Daisy mused. ‘She really did adore him, didn’t she? What an absolute tragedy he died.’ She poured us both coffee from her flask and then stood to scan the acres of land in front of us. ‘I wonder where the two policemen were actually shot?’
‘Oh God, don’t. I really don’t want to know,’ I shuddered.
‘But why did Arthur have a gun in the first place? It’s all a bit strange, don’t you think?’ Daisy peered at me over her cup, steam rising in the cold air. ‘What do you think of Matis?’
‘What do I think of him?’
‘You know…’ Daisy grinned at me, nudging me in my ribs for good measure. ‘You don’t think he’s incredibly attractive?’
‘If you find short, dark, hairy men attractive.’
‘I do. Oh,’ Daisy sighed, ‘I really do.’
*
By half-past three it was already beginning to get dark and Matis came to find me, saying they’d have to finish for the afternoon. ‘We’s knocking off nows. Nossings else we can do.’ He glanced at Daisy. ‘We’s off backs to the office now but going to the pubs later. Yous two wants to come?’
‘Which pubs are you going to?’ Daisy was animated, obviously eager to join them.
‘Only one pubs, Daisy,’ Matis admonished her. ‘One pubs on a works night. Not a piss-ups during the week.’
I shook my head. I had no intention of ever again getting friendly with anyone I worked with. I let my thoughts wander to Dominic and was surprised when my heart didn’t do that flippety-flip thing it usually did whenever his face swam into view. This was interesting.
‘I’ll come,’ Daisy volunteered. I glanced both at her and Matis. Blimey. The sexual frisson between the pair of them was palpably crackling.
‘You go,’ I said. ‘You won’t be able to see a thing in a few minutes. I’m going to the hospital.’
‘Oh, I’ll come to the hospital too. I can meet the others later.’ She stopped speaking as a car pulled into the makeshift car park of trucks and vans in front of the farm. ‘Who’s this who’s just arrived?’
‘I think it’s Seb Henderson back again,’ I said. ‘Isn’t that his car?’
‘No, car too sporty now that Seb has grown up and got a baby, and hair too blond.’ We all stood in line as if we were in the receiving line at a wedding as the man made to lock his car and then approached us.
‘Oh, sorry,’ he said, ‘I didn’t think there’d be anyone here. There isn’t usually.’
‘Usually?’ I glanced across at Daisy.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said again, ‘I love this place. Every time I’m up here, I come over just to have another look. I’ve left it a bit late today.’
‘And forevers amen, matey,’ Matis said dismissively, eyeing his tools and equipment as the labourers placed them neatly in the back of the truck. ‘Sis farms is solds. We don’t wants up-to-no-good guys wandering rounds the place. Farms solds now. Sorry.’
‘Oh,’ I suddenly cried, a
nd Matis and Daisy turned in my direction. ‘It’s Badger Man.’
‘Badger Man?’ The man looked at me with raised eyebrows.
‘The dead badger that wasn’t actually dead on Christmas Eve?’ I turned to Matis in explanation: ‘It’s Badger Man.’
‘Oh, sorry, I didn’t recognise you without your antlers.’ Badger Man turned to Daisy ‘Or not dressed as a panda.’
Matis frowned, trying to work out the strange vernacular of badgers, pandas and antlers. ‘You knows this mans? And he’s badgering you? We knows about guys who badgers womens. Not good.’ He stepped towards Badger Man. ‘Yous been badgering sese womens?’ He turned back to me. ‘You wants we get rids?’
I laughed at that. ‘No, honestly, Matis, but thank you. It’s fine.’
‘I didn’t realise the place had been sold.’ He sighed. ‘It’s just that my great-uncle loved this place. He wanted to buy it and live here years ago.’
‘Your great-uncle?’ Daisy and I looked at one another.
‘He first came across it during the war. He wanted to do it up and live here once the war was over.’
‘But he didn’t survive? The war, I mean?’
‘My great-uncle? Yes, he did.’ The man appeared puzzled.
‘Oh.’ Daisy looked at me again and then asked. ‘He wasn’t called James, was he?’
‘Yes.’ He stared at Daisy. ‘How did you know that?’
‘James Montgomery-West?’
Badger Man frowned. ‘How did you know that?’
‘I goes, Daisy,’ Matis interrupted, obviously fed up with hanging about in the cold. ‘I sees you in pubs tonight? The Jolly Sailors in Westenbury? Seven o’clocks?’ He headed for the truck, leaving the three of us in the shadows of the derelict farm building.
Coming Home To Holly Close Farm Page 24
