Henrietta Sees It Through (7 page)

I got her another camp stool and we both sat down. ‘If Winston can, then I can,' said Lady B.

‘Can what?'

‘Wear a siren suit.'

We sat in silence for a time, listening to the hum of aeroplanes overhead. Then I said: ‘We used to have such fun on this roof once upon a time.'

‘And so you will again,' said Lady B.

‘All those boys and girls, so jolly, lying about in the sun enjoying themselves, and now——' I gulped, and Lady B put her hand on mine and gave it a little squeeze.

There was a distant Thump, and the roof shuddered gently beneath us. ‘A long way off,' said Lady B.

‘Near for some people.'

‘We mustn't get gloomy, Henrietta,' said Lady B firmly. ‘Sitting here in the dark one is inclined to but we mustn't. We've got to keep on sending great thought-waves of hope and cheer and confidence
rushing
round the world——' She made a sweeping gesture with her arm and knocked my tin hat over my nose. Almost at once we heard the splatter of machine guns out to sea.

‘We're after 'em!' I cried.

‘Hurrah!' shouted Lady B. ‘God save the King!'

There was a faint answering cheer from the Fire-Watchers in the road below, and soon afterwards the ‘All Clear' sounded. We sat and listened in happy silence to the blissful sound. ‘When the war is over,' I said, ‘I'm going to have a gramophone record of the “All Clear”, and put it on every time I feel blue.'

We tiptoed through my bedroom, where Charles was lying in an innocent and childlike sleep. Lady B leant over him, and with loving care tucked the bed clothes round his shoulders. In the kitchen we made ourselves some delicious tea, and then Lady B went home.

There are those who say that cups of tea in the night encourage sleep, but I am not one of them, and after I got back into bed I lay awake for a long time listening to Charles's gentle breathing and wishing I could have had a glass of milk. The birds were twittering before I finally dropped off. Almost at once the telephone rang. I could tell by the way Charles grunted into the receiver that he had to go out, and after a few muttered curses he bumbled out of bed and into his dressing room.

When he came back the sun was shining in at the windows. He stood at the foot of my bed and said, ‘You lucky little Thing, sleeping away there so peacefully all night, with nothing to disturb you.'

Always your affectionate Childhood's Friend,

H
ENRIETTA

 

 

 

September 23, 1942

M
Y
D
EAR
R
OBERT

We have all been to our Cathedral City to see
Hamlet
. One of the actors was a sort of cousin of Mrs Whinebite, and as the seats weren't going too well she rounded us up, like a cattle rancher on the films, and herded us, lowing mournfully, up to the station and into the train.

‘Is this Journey Really Necessary?' said Mrs Savernack, making a last bid for freedom.

‘Yes,' said Mrs Whinebite firmly, and closed the carriage door on us while she went to buy tickets.

A good deal of the journey was spent in paying her back the money for our fares. Everybody borrowed change from everybody else, and even then it wouldn't come right, until a kindly clergyman in the corner offered nine pennies and a three-penny-bit in return for a shilling.

‘Don't tell Mrs Whinebite,' said little Mrs Simpkins in a low voice, ‘but I've forgotten what
Hamlet
is about.'

‘It's about a young man called Hamlet,' said Colonel Simpkins helpfully.

‘And a girl called Ophelia who goes mad,' said the Admiral.

‘And a ghost,' said Lady B.

‘And a queen called Gertrude who gets poisoned,' said the Conductor.

‘And a king called Claudius who gets stabbed,' I said. ‘And a young man called Laertes who gets killed in a duel, and an old man called Polonius who gets killed by mistake.'

Little Mrs Simpkins sighed. ‘I remember now,' she said. ‘Not a Bright Piece. I think they ought to try and put on something Bright in wartime, don't you?'

Robert, I am now middle-aged. ‘Ever at my back I hear Time's winged chariot drawing near,' and many of the careless raptures of youth leave me with an unquickened pulse. But still, Robert, still I get the same old thrill as the curtain goes up. Charles says he has seen me sit, rapt, through a pierrot show on the beach, my hands damp with excitement; and though this isn't absolutely true, I
do
enjoy a play, and though Mrs Whinebite would never suspect it,
the plays of William Shakespeare are my favourites, and of his plays the ones I ‘did' at school and know well are the ones I like best of all.

The house lights lowered, and Lady B, who shares my passion for the drama, squeezed my hand, and the Curtain Went Up.

At the end of the first act Colonel Simpkins murmured something about not feeling well, and went out. The Admiral said he supposed he ought to see if the Old Boy was all right, and went after him. Little Mrs Simpkins sighed again and said the Poor Ghost always depressed her, and Mrs Savernack said she supposed Hamlet must be over age, or he'd have been called up. Mrs Whinebite said, ‘Was it Real or Feigned Madness?' and stared at us hungrily, each in turn, but nobody felt up to embarking on a discussion with her.

At the end, when the curtain came down on a stage strewn with corpses, I had sat so still that I had pins and needles in one foot and a crick in my neck. The Admiral and Colonel Simpkins were waiting for us on the steps outside. They both looked cheerful, and I guessed they had been to visit an Old School Chum who lives near the theatre.

‘I've ordered tea at Treherne's,' said Mrs Whinebite.

‘She thinks of everything, doesn't she?' said the Conductor, who had planned to take Lady B and me to his favourite hotel.

At the tea shop a large table had been prepared for us, as though we were a visiting hockey team, and Mrs Whinebite, wreathed in smiles, sat herself down behind the teapot, like a schoolmistress who has allowed discipline to relax for once.

‘Poor little Ophelia!' said Lady B, passing a plate of thick bread and butter.

‘The person I'm always so sorry for is Queen Gertrude,' I said.

‘My dear Henrietta!' said Mrs Whinebite. ‘She was an adulteress, and an incestuous one at that.'

‘Oh dear, I do dislike those sort of words,' said little Mrs Simpkins.

‘Well, I don't know,' I said, carried away by a subject to which I had given much thought. ‘To begin with, I'm sure she didn't know her husband had been murdered, and then I can't help thinking she must have had rather a dreary life with Hamlet and his father. I mean to say, let's face it, Hamlet
was
a tiresome boy, though I dare say it was partly her fault for spoiling him. But if I'd heard Bill speaking to an old man like Hamlet spoke to Polonius, I'd have
spanked
him. And nobody could call Hamlet's father a jolly sort of man, though of course he may have been jollier before he became a ghost. I always think King Claudius must have been good fun. People with red hair often are.

He winked at me

Of course, he doesn't appear at his best in the play, biting his nails like that, but I expect he had plenty of charm and vitality really, and Gertrude fell for it, and who can blame her?' I paused for breath.

‘Henrietta always likes to put forward an original point of view,' said Mrs Whinebite. ‘Bless her!' she added viciously and I buried my scarlet face in my teacup.

‘Fine play!' said Colonel Simpkins. ‘I was only sorry I missed such a lot of it,' and he winked at me with the eye furthest from Mrs Whinebite.

Always your affectionate Childhood's Friend,

H
ENRIETTA

 

 

 

October 7, 1942

M
Y
D
EAR
R
OBERT

We have shut up our dining room and put our dining-table and one of those stove things in the drawing room. We consider that by doing this we have scored a bullseye in the Fuel Target, or at least an inner. Now I am making a little cosy corner in the linen cupboard, so that we shall be able to withdraw to better positions when Gwilym drives us from even the meagre comfort of our stove. What we shall do when he forbids the boiler fire as well, I do
not
know. Imagination boggles, as they say.

There has been a Salvage Drive going on here in an unused garage for the last fortnight. Charles and I made our big salvage effort several months ago, so our contributions this time have been rather puny, though Charles created a small stir by bringing some enormous tomes of out-of-date surgery, which he left on the pavement outside, the Salvage Authorities having locked up and gone away to a well-earned lunch. The books were full of unsuitable pictures, and quite a little crowd of Evacuees, on their way to school, gathered round to feast their eyes on them, until they were moved on by our policeman, who then began looking at them himself.

This afternoon I took down a watering can with a hole in it, and found Mrs Savernack standing in front of one of the dumps looking wistfully at a mountain of pots, pans, kettles and what not.

Began looking at them himself

‘I could do with a lot of these things,' she said. ‘That sweet little kettle, for instance.'

‘It's sure to have a hole in it.'

‘But it could be mended, Henrietta,' she said eagerly. ‘Look, it's only a tiny hole,' and she picked the kettle up, but dropped it guiltily when she saw the Admiral and Colonel Simpkins coming in at the garage door. As Chairman of the Urban District Council and Special Constable, they feel it their duty to visit the Dump every day.

‘That's a nice watering can,' said the Admiral.

‘I brought it,' I said proudly.

‘My dear Henrietta, you must be mad!' said the Admiral. ‘It's only got one tiny hole, which could easily be mended.'

‘That's just how I feel about that little kettle,' said Mrs Savernack, and they both snatched the objects of their desires off the Dump and held them up to the light.

It was then that Lady B came into the garage, staggering under the weight of an enormous pile of books. We were half-hidden from her by the pots and pans, and she tottered over to the Paper Dump without having seen us.

We looked at each other with concern, for Lady B loves her books, and when she gave up her house and moved into her tiny flat they were the only luxury she allowed herself to take with her. We tiptoed round to the other side of our tin mountain, and there she was, tight-lipped, throwing one precious volume after another onto the Paper Dump. I saw her beloved Trollopes hurtling through the air, followed by the Shaws, and as each old and valued friend landed with a melancholy plop on the sacrificial altar, Lady B muttered, ‘Damn Hitler!'

Colonel Simpkins, who was deeply moved by this little scene, surprised us by inviting us all to tea with him at the hotel. Lady B said she must put on her best hat first, and we waited outside her flat while she made the necessary change.

As we trooped into the hotel lounge, I heard one of the Visitors say, ‘Who are these people?'

‘Locals,' said her friend.

‘My dear,' said the first Visitor, ‘I'm told they never do a tap, and spend the
whole
day playing bridge.'

‘Four more A.R.Ps called up this month,' said the Admiral. ‘The women will have to come forward.'

‘I thought you used to say the Woman's Place was the Home,' said Lady B.

‘So it is, in peacetime,' said the Admiral. ‘War is different.'

‘Poor women!' I said.

‘They ought to be proud to come at their Country's Need,' said Colonel Simpkins, looking at me very sternly.

‘They are,' I said. ‘Only they must get rather sick of being mucked about.'

‘What a disgusting expression,' said Mrs Savernack.