Read I'll Get By Online

Authors: Janet Woods

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #General

I'll Get By (12 page)

BOOK: I'll Get By
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They were issued with gas masks, and although they smelled rubbery and moulded to the face with claustrophobic tightness, Meggie bore in mind that her father had been gassed in the trenches, and the damage had eaten away his lungs and eventually destroyed him.

When Aunt Es expressed her relief that Leo hadn’t joined up, he offered her a couple of grunts and said, ‘Don’t count your chickens yet, my love. The war has only just started and none of us can see what the future holds.’

Dressed in their best, their gas masks swinging from their shoulders, they travelled by train to Dorset for her uncle Chad’s wedding to Sylvia. Even the earliest train was crowded with noisy children, labelled with their names like living parcels being sent to unknown destinations. Babies cried and their harassed minders grumbled from the sheer fatigue of caring for so many at once.

Though they were all dressed in their best for the wedding, Esmé took one of the babies in her arms and comforted the child until it fell into fitful sleep. Meggie wondered how the mothers felt having to send their children away to be looked after by strangers. Some better-off ones had been sent abroad to Canada.

Better this evacuation than send them overseas, she thought. Meggie followed her aunt’s example and took a toddler on her lap. But the child took exception to her and grizzled for his mother all the way.

Leo stood in the aisle, his eyes turned towards the passing landscape and with a smile playing around his mouth. She thought he was far away, up in the air somewhere. Then she realized his dreamy gaze was on Esmé’s reflection.

It was a perfect autumn day; the leaves falling from the trees were a thousand shades of shaved ochre. But there was a nip in the air, and nobody would have guessed there was a war on – though Leo had told them of an incident where one of their own planes had been shot down by gunners who’d mistaken it as the enemy.

They left the children behind in the aroma of dried pee the carriage had collected, and headed towards Livia’s home on foot. There was a smell of bonfires in the air and the leaves crunched underfoot.

Meggie’s legacy was almost the same as she’d left it, except the long grass of Foxglove House had been trimmed back, and there was a man up a ladder removing the shutters from the window. She’d spent hours there by herself in the dusty, shuttered twilight, hiding from the world, making up stories, feeling like an outsider, even though she’d inherited the place.

Now she
would
be an outsider, because once the place became an institution it would be painted in efficient cream and green, and brown linoleum would spread over the floorboards like an expanse of river mud when the tide went out. It would smell of beeswax and perhaps disinfectant, and there would be notice boards screwed to the walls, with red arrows pointing every which way. Gents Lavatory. Adjutant’s Office. Mess Deck . . . Spy Training Centre.

Her laughter brought a smile from Leo. ‘What’s tickled you?’

‘My mother thinks they might train spies here.’

‘Anything is possible, I suppose.’

Sheets of paper with commands would be attached to corkboards, and smaller, more important memos with exclamation marks would be pierced through their corners with bright brassy pins, so the paper agitated busily in the draughts, as if trying to escape and go about the business of spreading the news it contained.

She felt like a Sinclair Sangster memo, reluctantly pinned to the notice board and trying to escape from its grip.

Then they were past, and nodding to the postman who crossed their path in the opposite direction and ringing his bell, said in his rich, rural burr, ‘Good day to you sir, and young ladies. It’s a lovely day for a wedding, isn’t it? The church looks pretty.’

‘It certainly is a lovely day,’ Leo said.

‘Mrs Elliot, nice lady that she is, has invited me to the reception. I shall enjoy that.’ The postman began to whistle; ‘Here comes the bride,’ as he went past, his bicycle rattling over the potholes.

Aunt Esmé suddenly exclaimed, ‘There’s Nutting Cottage. It looks so pretty. They’ve painted it cream, and I love those cotoneasters, the berries are so red and the leaves so dark and green, and I like the way it spreads and flattens its bracts across the wall. Look, the picket fence has been repaired and painted to match the house.’

Meggie didn’t want to look. The shining red berries shone like beads of blood, she thought, and remembered seeing her grandfather dead in his chair on the other side of the window as if it had been yesterday – his mouth hanging open in his grey face. She’d only spoken to him a few minutes before, and he’d told her he was her father. But he’d been old and feeble and his mind wandered. It had been the worst day of her life.

She forced herself to look at the place. Yes, it was pretty, but she didn’t want to live there, and she hadn’t been inside the cottage since. She felt slightly ill. What if he had been her father? No! That terrible time when she fought her inner demons over that question had been dealt with.

Aunt Esmé took her hand and tucked it in her arm, as though she knew what she was thinking about. Kissing her cheek, Es whispered, ‘Try not to allow the past get the better of you, sweetheart,’ and Meggie felt like crying.

A car came up the road. Luke gazed at them from the driving seat. ‘Does anyone want a lift?’

Meggie took the passenger seat next to him. ‘You’re not old enough to drive. Does Mummy know you’ve taken her car?’

‘Of course she does. She was in the middle of making some egg and bacon tarts when she suddenly remembered you were catching the early train and panicked, so I said I’d pick you up. She’s been teaching me to drive, you see. She said I’ve got a natural aptitude. How are you, Sis?’

‘Terrific. I’ve got a job at a hospital.’

He clutched at his throat and groaned. ‘Not as a nurse, I hope, or worse still . . . a doctor. They must have all run like billy-o when they saw you coming.’

‘Don’t be such a mongrel, Luke, else I’ll beat you up and it will be you needing a doctor.’

Luke’s laughter had a quality of awe to it. ‘Doctors are ten a penny in our household. I’ve heard that you plan to become a lawyer.’

‘That’s right.’

‘Mother nearly tore her hair out after you rang her. Grandmother Elliot overheard, and had her thruppence worth of say about it . . . though it went on a bit and was more like ten shillings’ worth. In the end Mother politely told Grandmother Elliot that it wasn’t really her business, and would she kindly not listen in to her private phone calls. So Gran went off in a frightful sulk.’

Meggie was impressed that her mother had taken on Grandmother Elliot, and had won.

Luke turned to Leo and Esmé, who had slid into the back seat with the bags. ‘It’s nice to see you again, sir, and you, Aunt Es. Mother’s in a panic I’m afraid. You know what she’s like when she has to cater. Dad and Adam have disappeared up into the attic to play with the train set. We’ve got an electric one now . . . with two engines, passenger and goods trains. We’ve got quite a clubhouse up there too. You must come up to see it, Leo.’

Meggie sighed. ‘Let’s get going then, so we can help sort Mummy out. Put your foot down, Luke.’

He did put it down. The car lunged forward a couple of times, and then stalled. ‘
Donner und Blitzen,
’ Luke said under his breath.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘It’s German. It means thunder and lightning.’

‘Well, why don’t you just say it in English, then everyone can understand it?’

‘Because it’s a rude expression in German.’

‘It doesn’t sound very rude to me. Besides, if somebody hears you spouting German they’ll probably shoot you. A natural aptitude, did you say? If we stay here much longer it will be quicker to walk home.’

In the back seat, Es got a fit of the giggles and Leo began to laugh unrestrainedly.

Luke turned red. ‘A chap can make a mistake, can’t he? You’re putting me off my driving, Meggie.’

‘How can you be driving when the engine isn’t running?’ She kissed her brother on the cheek. ‘Stop complaining you dolt, I was only teasing. You’ll never know how much I missed you.’

‘Welcome to the Elliot household,’ Es said under her breath.

They made it to Eavesham House without incident. Livia Elliot was in a right royal flap when they got there. Relief filled her eyes when she saw them. ‘Thank goodness you’re here. The service is at one o’clock, and I’m never going to have everything ready in time.’ She gave their outfits a quick perusal. ‘You look good, Es. Isn’t that suit and hat a bit grown up for you, Meggie?’

‘Goodness, Mother . . . how many times do I have to tell you. I
am
grown up. I even have a responsible job, though it’s totally boring.’

They shed their coats and hats, and went back to the kitchen, Meggie feeling as though she’d shrunk to half her age and had never been away. Her mother took her duties seriously, to the point of smothering.

‘That’s good . . . you must tell me about it sometime, but not now . . . pass that mustard would you,’ she said and surveyed the messy table vaguely. ‘Oh dear . . . I should have got the caterers in. Now . . . where did I put my list?’

‘I’ve got it.’ Meggie exchanged a grin with her aunt. Taking a clean white apron down from a peg she tied it around her waist and said to her mother,’ Go and have a soak in the bath, it will help you to relax. Your hair looks pretty in that style.’

Livia patted her hair. ‘Do you think so? Denton liked it too. Can you manage in the kitchen by yourself, Meggie? Of course you can. You were always so capable in the kitchen. You’ll make a good wife for some lucky man before too long.’

Meggie grimaced and counted loudly to ten.

Tossing her a grin, Leo gave her mother a hug and gently redirected her train of thought. ‘Where’s the bridegroom?’

‘Chad’s at Nutting Cottage. You’re his best man, aren’t you, Leo? I’m surprised Luke didn’t drop you off there.’

‘He probably forgot. He was concentrating on his driving.’

‘Yes . . . well, Luke’s sensible about such things. I taught him to drive myself . . . Meggie as well, so they’re both safe drivers. Why don’t you take the car, Leo.’

‘We have to economize. Besides, I need the walk and it’s not far. We’ll get to the church in Chad’s car.’

‘Be a love and flush Denton out of his hidey-hole first. Ask him to see to the drinks. There’s bottled beer and wine, and champagne for the toasts. Tell him to remember the bottle openers. We don’t want to have to look for everything when we get back from the church.’

‘Tell him I’ve brought his favourite humbugs with me and he can’t have them until he’s finished all his tasks. That will dig him out of his hole,’ Esmé added.

Leo winked at Esmé. ‘What are you going to do, my love?’

‘I’m going to make a cup of tea, and then act as ladies’ maid to Livia and kitchen assistant to Meggie. I’ll make sure the reception room is ready, too. I imagine it’s going to be a buffet lunch.’

Gradually everything was sorted out, and before long they were in the church. Chad offered them all a smile as he waited calmly with Leo at his side, for his bride to arrive. He was dressed in a grey suit with striped waistcoat. The congregation was sprinkled with men in uniform, standing tall and proud in a field of fluttering flowers, as though the responsibility of war had revealed the adventure of it to the congregation, but not its deadliness.

They wouldn’t have to look far for reminders of it, a list of names of men from the village that had lost their lives in the Great War was on the War Memorial. For the most part they were heartbreakingly young.

Meggie had read her father’s diaries of the last war, and now her heart quaked for those who were going into the unknown. She looked at her two brothers, who were not old enough, thank goodness. She must try and be nicer to them, she thought, overwhelmed by love for them.

Her stepfather cruised up and down the aisle, stopping to exchange pleasantries with the guests and keeping an eye out for the bride and her father through the open church door.

Her mother fretted over whether everyone would fit in the house every time he came their way.

Denton dismissed her worries with a grin. ‘Shall I dash home and build an extension?’

Her mother’s giggle bordered on hysteria. ‘Don’t you dare make me laugh, Denton Elliot.’

Meggie smiled at her. ‘We’ve opened the folding glass doors to the dining room, so stop worrying about it, Mummy, and we’ve turned the radiators on to warm the place up a bit.’

Even that innocuous remark produced a fret. ‘I do hope the icing on the wedding cake doesn’t melt. Sylvia’s family provided the cake, so I don’t know exactly what’s in it.’

‘Plaster of Paris, I expect. We won’t be able to get our teeth through it.’

‘Behave yourself, Denton. You do look pretty, Meggie. No wonder that man over there is trying to catch your attention? Is he one of ours or one of theirs?’

‘Which man is that?’ She turned to gaze to where her mother had indicated and received the spontaneous smile he curved her way. Her heart did a bit of a dance around her chest, and blood rushed to her face. She hadn’t seen Rennie for quite a while. ‘It’s Rainard Stone. He’s my solicitor, and manages the Sinclair estate. Did you invite him, Daddy? If we’d known he was coming he could have travelled down with us.’

Livia said in dismay, ‘Gracious, I shall have to find him somewhere to sleep. You must tell me all about him, Meggie.’

‘I will not. If you want to know anything about him, you must ask him yourself.’ A man at the other end of the aisle signalled to Denton, who in turn gave a wave to the organist, who began to softly play Mendelssohn’s wedding march. Meggie grinned. She did like family get-togethers. There were so many oddments in the family, and they all fitted together and expanded like pieces of the same jigsaw puzzle. Sylvia’s family would just add more pieces.

‘Sylvia must be on her way, I’m dying to see her dress.’

Livia sighed. ‘I’m not. It took me hours to stitch round the hem. Girls these days should be taught more domestic skills. They all want careers. You forgot to tell me you’d invited a man called Rainard Stone, Denton. What an odd name.’

BOOK: I'll Get By
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