Life was a little easier now that I was singing and playing again; each day had a purpose and a structure which had been lacking over the past couple of months. Now I forced my fingers to re-learn their dexterity, and listened to myself carefully and critically as I sang – trying to coax my voice back to its former suppleness.
But I still worried about Robbie. One evening he did not go out. I found him in the drawing room, hunched over the paper. ‘Not going out tonight, Robbie?’
He did not look up; he just shook his head. Then he burst out, ‘What’s the point? I’m a bloody crock now – I’m no use – I can’t even act like a man any longer!’ And as he spoke I knew he was repeating someone else’s words – and I hated the girl who had said them to him. He shifted in his chair, to turn his back on me, so I left him.
A few days later Ralph Dutton dropped in – he had decided to stay in the army as a regular and they sat talking about the war together; it seemed to cheer Robbie up. Ralph had gone back for the last months, and through into Germany with his men; they spoke about who had survived, so I asked after Lofty and Ginger and Ben Holden. Ralph thought Ginger had been wounded again – he was not quite sure – but he knew both Lofty and Ben Holden had gone on to the end and been demobilized. I was glad of that.
For a while Robbie seemed more cheerful; then Ralph had to leave Town and my brother’s temper shortened again and he began to go out every evening on his own – and to stay out.
My voice was improving; Signor Bianchi took it very slowly at first, saying that I had nearly destroyed it in the war – and I remembered the gas marquee and shivered. But it had not quite gone because Elsa Gehring had laid such strong foundations. Dear Elsa – I wondered how she was coping in Germany today: did people still learn to sing there? But Elsa was a survivor; she would not go under.
I was playing and singing one day in the morning room when Conan came in. ‘Stop that racket and go and put your hat on, Hellie – I’m taking you out to lunch – I want to talk to you.’
We sat in the small restaurant, chatting casually over our meal. Then, when he had finished his ice, he put his spoon down, leant forward and said, ‘I’m going to China.’
I stared at him and repeated stupidly, ‘To China?’
‘That’s right – big place where they’re all yellow with eyes like this.’ He pulled his eyelids up into a grotesque slant and leered at me. ‘Haven’t you noticed I’ve been letting my hair grow long, ready for the pigtail?’ Then he was serious again. ‘A chap I met at Hendon – he’s going out, a flying job – so I thought I might as well go too. I asked around and it’s all fixed up. I can’t sponge off Aunt Ria for ever, and I feel like a change.’
I was too stunned to speak. He picked up his wineglass, twirled it, and then said casually, ‘Do you fancy coming with me, Hellie?’
‘With you?’
‘We’ll do it legally, of course. Get a special licence, have a damned good honeymoon, then be off at the beginning of next month.’
‘You’re proposing – you’re suggesting we get married?’
‘That’s right.’ He added, ‘Look, Hellie – I can’t promise I’d be a faithful husband, you know me better than that – but, well – I wouldn’t ever let you down.’ My mind was in a whirl. At last I stammered tritely, ‘But – it’s so sudden!’
He gave a great shout of laughter. ‘So sudden! Oh, come off it, Hellie’. He leant across the table until his lips were close to my ear and whispered, ‘I’ve had my hand up your skirts ever since I was seventeen!’
‘Conan!’
‘Well, not all the time, but you know what I mean – and I’m fond of you, Hellie – you know that.’
I still sat silent, uncertain, so he lit a cigarette and said, ‘You needn’t make your mind up today – sleep on it, and I’ll come round and see you in the morning.’
I reached out and touched his hand: it was very warm. I slid my fingers up under his cuff and began to caress the fine dark hairs on his wrist; my breathing quickened. But he pulled away. ‘None of that, Hellie – I know your tricks.’ He grinned. ‘If I give in to you now you’ll hustle me off to a room somewhere, have your way with me – and then abandon me – ruined!’
He was laughing, and he looked so young and carefree that I could not resist retorting, ‘It was nearly me that was ruined – in the maze that evening.’
‘Ah, but I didn’t, did I? And I behaved myself afterwards. Aunt Ria appealed to my boyish sense of honour – then she came down to earth, pressed a ten-pound note in my hand and told me to go home to Ireland and seduce a housemaid.’ He smiled reminiscently.
I could not help it, I had to ask. ‘And did you?’
He looked at me with the devil in his blue eyes. ‘You bet I did, Hellie – you bet I did. She was a pert little thing and very free with her favours. I thought I was in paradise that autumn – I was drunk with it!’ I thought bitterly: While I, I was put under guard and exiled to Munich. ‘Then I had to go back to Eton, and Father turned up a couple of months later in a raging fury – he’d had to pay to marry her off to a groom. He really tore a strip off me, the old hypocrite. I can’t stand that harridan he’s got living with him now – that’s one reason why I’m not keen on going back. Come on, Hellie, I’ll take you home.’
I was very restless that evening. I refused to go out with Mother and Letty, and sat playing the piano for hours before I went to bed. But I still could not sleep: the temptation to go with Conan was strong – there were too many memories in England now. Then I remembered Gerald, kneeling at my feet in the orangery, and Conan’s casual, careless proposal suddenly repelled me. I got out of bed and walked restlessly to the window and stared out over the dark gardens. A cab drew up further down the street and a man got out – he staggered to the railings and was violently sick through them; my lip curled, and then something about the way he was clinging to the iron uprights alerted me. It was Robbie.
I threw on my wrap and dashed down the stairs. By the time I got the door open an ashen-faced Robbie was on the step, supported by a brawny taxi driver. ‘’Ere you are, lidy – bit worse fer wear fer ’is night aht – but I got ’im back ter you.’ He looked at me expectantly. I rummaged through my brother’s pockets and the man took the coins and said, ‘I’ll give you a lift inside wiv ’im. Come on, now, chum, upsadaisy.’ He heaved Robbie into the hallway and dropped him into a chair. ‘Cheerio, lidy – don’t be too ’ard on ’im – we all tikes a drop too much sometimes.’
I closed the door behind him and ran back to Robbie; he stank of whisky and vomit. ‘Sh, I’sh – couldn’t find the key.’ He began to heave again and I held him steady while he was sick into the umbrella stand. Then he sagged back against me, his breath rasping in his chest – I couldn’t shift him alone, so I rang the bell. Cooper came so quickly I knew he must have been waiting up for my brother.
Between us we managed to get him up the stairs and into the bathroom. He slid down on to the floor and Cooper helped me take off his soiled suit, then I washed his hands and face. His underwear reeked of cheap scent. We got him across to his bedroom and put him on the bed. The butler stood panting beside me; he was an elderly man now. ‘That’s all, thank you, Cooper. I can manage.’
‘Are you sure, my lady?’
‘Yes, quite sure.’ He slipped noiselessly out of the room.
I looked down at my little brother, wheezing in a drunken stupor, and reached for his pyjamas. I saw the ragged scars on his chest and his arms as I took off his vest and covered them quickly with his pyjama jacket, then I turned to slip off his underpants and draw on the silk bottoms. While I was tying the cord he opened his bloodshot eyes and looked up at me – and as I saw the despair in them I knew I would not go to China with Conan.
Next morning I shook my head as soon as my cousin came into the drawing room. He looked suddenly absurdly disappointed, and for once he was speechless. I felt I owed him an explanation so I began to talk of Gerald – how I had loved him and how I always would. I found myself repeating Gerald’s vow to me – I had never told anyone else, and now there was a painful pleasure in telling it, even to Conan. But my cousin looked at me with a strange expression, as if he did not believe me. I spoke almost angrily, ‘He meant it, Conan – he meant it.’
Then Conan said, ‘Yes, Hellie – I’m sure he did. I couldn’t make that declaration to you, and you know it – there’s no point pretending. But…’
There was a discreet tap at the door and Cooper appeared. ‘My lady, Mr Robbie’s come round – I mean, woken up – and he’s asking for you.’
I said quickly, ‘I’ll come – tell him I won’t be a minute.’
Conan watched my face as the door closed, then he said, ‘It’s because of Robbie, isn’t it? That’s the real reason.’
I hesitated for a moment – I did not want to give my brother away – then I told him of the state Robbie had been in last night. He picked up his hat. ‘Poor old Robbie. I’m not going to try and persuade you, Hellie – I would have done if it had just been… But I know you won’t leave Robbie now. Give me a kiss and say goodbye.’
I clung to him and began to cry. ‘Come on, Hellie, old girl – I’m just going to China – it’s only the other side of the world, you know! Besides, I expect I’ll be back some time.’ He kissed me again and left, and I went upstairs to Robbie.
My brother looked dreadful; as I came towards him he tried to apologize for the night before, but I put my finger to his lips and smiled at him. He managed a faint answering smile, then his eyelids dropped and I saw he had dozed off again. He stayed in bed all day. I went upstairs after dinner and he lay propped up on the pillows with his eyes closed while I read the newspaper to him. When I reached the foreign news he began to cough. I waited but his coughing became worse; he was gasping for breath with his handkerchief clutched to his mouth. As I ran to him my nostrils caught the foul odour of his breath and I saw his handkerchief was already soaking. I sprang to the washstand and seized the bowl and just managed to get back to him in time as with a great convulsive heave a stream of thick brown pus erupted into the bowl. I stood with my arm round his shoulders until he had emptied his lungs, then I put the bowl down with shaking hands and eased him back against the pillows, wiping his lips with my own handkerchief. ‘All right now, Robbie, all right. I’ll send for the doctor.’
By the time the doctor came Robbie’s face was a better colour, and his breathing much easier. The doctor was bluff and cheery. ‘You’ll feel a lot better now you’ve got all that off your chest, young man. Stay in bed for a few days to get your strength back. I’ll be round again in the morning.’
Next day the doctor told Robbie firmly he must give up smoking. My brother accepted his decree, and although he was edgy and irritable for a few days he agreed his breathing was much better for it. By the time he came downstairs he looked fitter than he had done for months; I felt so relieved. Now he had got rid of the infected pus his lungs could begin to heal.
Robbie was able to walk in the square gardens by the time Conan came to say his formal goodbyes. Mother sat very upright as she wished him good luck; her face and her voice never faltered – sometimes I had to admire her. My own eyes were full of tears, but I did not let them spill over. I hoped my cousin would find what he wanted in China.
Guy went next. He had accepted a position as ADC to the Governor-General in Canada. He had told me he could not settle in England now – and London made him bad-tempered. I knew how he felt. Pansy was content to go with him wherever he wanted: her round blue eyes followed him everywhere, and her face lit up at every remark he made to her. My brother was very gentle with her now. She told me she wanted another child, but Guy said four children in four years were already too many for her – she must have a rest. ‘But I’ve been either carrying his child or nursing his baby for so long now, Helena, that I feel quite lost – I like to have part of him with me, always.’ She spoke with such simple child-like faith that I suspected Nanny would be engaging yet another new nursemaid before very long.
Before he left England, Guy said to me, ‘Helena, if you can, take Robbie back to Hatton – London’s not doing him any good.’
I knew he was right, so I spoke to Robbie that evening. He sighed, then he said, ‘Yes, Helena, we’ll go back – just the two of us – it’ll be like old times, won’t it?’ He tried to smile, but we both knew that in the old times there had been three of us. He swallowed painfully, ‘God, Hellie how I miss him – three years, and I still miss him every hour of my life. We were part of each other.’ I sat with his hand in mine as we remembered our brother.
Mother was annoyed at first when we told her we were going back before the end of the Season. ‘But the staff are all in London and Hatton’s under dustsheets – it’s most inconvenient, Helena.’
Robbie began to speak, then a fit of coughing caught hold of him. We sat by helplessly, and as soon as he had wheezed into silence Mother said, ‘I can manage without Mrs Hill – I’ll send her back ahead of you, with the head kitchenmaid. I gather she’s quite competent – no doubt she’ll jump at the experience, it’ll stand her in good stead later. I’ll see that her wages are raised over that period – remember that, Helena, when you’re running a household of your own. I hear so many fools of women complaining about the servant problem – but I’ve never had a servant problem and I never will because I pay for good service. Always be prepared to do the same, it’s well worth the few pounds a year extra.’
I said meekly, ‘Yes, Mother,’ and wondered whether she would have advocated treating Chinese servants in the same way.
‘That footman who’s been valeting you, Robbie – John, is that his name? He can go too. Mrs Hill will see to everything else; I’ll ring for her now.’
We left London at the beginning of the second week in July, just after the great peace celebrations. At Euston, John took charge of all our luggage, and Norah hurried along beside him with my jewel case safely chained to her wrist; I strolled down the platform with Robbie, carrying my parasol. Robbie had been much better these past few days, and now I was going home to Hatton with him – at last the world was getting back to normal.
It was very peaceful at Hatton; we walked in the gardens and sat together in the sun. At teatime we would saunter to the summerhouse and wait for John to arrive with the tea tray. I would lift the elegant silver pot and watch the delicate amber stream flow into the fine white porcelain – it was a far cry from the mahogany brew and thick china crockery of the last four and a half years. For a moment I would think that those years had been nothing more than a nightmare – then I would see my slim young brother reach for his stick, and hear the catch in his breath as he slowly rose to his feet – and I knew that the nightmare had been real.
But by the time the Season ended and my parents and Letty came back, Robbie’s breathing had improved in the fresh country air – he coughed less frequently, and he could walk further. Guests arrived and departed – I was glad when it was time for them to leave; my tongue had never been fluent in the easy chit-chat of Society, and now it creaked like a gate in want of oil. For years my conversation had been confined to the narrow familiar world of hospital and camp – now it could not break out again. My mother became impatient and told me I should forget the war – but how could I, when every difficult breath Robbie took and every slow movement he made was a constant reminder? And when Eddie lay dead in the churchyard at Lostherne, and I had to brace myself before I could enter the orangery?
My brother was more adept than I. He laughed and joked and even flirted with the short-skirted narrow-hipped little flappers Letty brought home with her. I felt rather jealous of them – they had been born too late for the war and it had not cast its long shadow over their lives. In September, when Ralph Dutton came up to stay, Robbie drove out to the butts and spent the morning shooting partridges at the stand between Ralph and Letty. I went out at lunchtime and my brother’s eyes were shining – propped casually on his shooting stick he looked his old self again and my heart lifted. But as I left, I walked past the game cart with its racks of bloody corpses and the sight of it made me feel very sick. I did not go out to the butts again.
A couple of days before Ralph was due to leave, Robbie came into the music room while I was practising. He sat down beside the piano and when I had finished my scales he said casually, ‘You know, old Ralph thinks a lot of you, Hellie.’
‘I like him, too – he’s so easy to talk to.’
‘But no more than that?’
I looked at my brother in surprise. ‘Should there be more than that?’
Robbie shook his head. ‘I didn’t think there was, but – well, Ralph wanted me to ask.’ I felt the blush rising to my cheeks as I understood. ‘Shall I give him any hope, Hellie – perhaps tell him to wait and see?’ Robbie’s dark eyes were steady.
But I did not need to think about it. ‘No, Robbie – I like Ralph a lot, but – no.’
‘I’ll tell him, then – he didn’t want to be a nuisance.’ He gave a wry grin. ‘You know, Ralph’s one of the best, but – still, I suppose no brother thinks another man’s good enough for his own sister.’
The rail strike early in October disrupted one of Mother’s house parties and she was furious. She was even more angry when Letty announced her support for the strikers. Mother’s colour rose as she attacked Letty in short, biting sentences, and I cringed – but Letty stayed stolidly calm and insisted on propounding the basic tenets of socialism until Mother sprang to her feet and left – with an audible slam of the drawing-room door. Papa mopped his brow and looked at Letty with something approaching awe.
The following week he left for Scotland with Lady Maud, and Mother departed for the Riviera, to stay at Sir Ernest’s villa there. It was almost like old times again, except that now it was my sister who was cramming for Cambridge. She went into Hareford every morning to work with a retired schoolmaster there, and sat over her books in the evening. Robbie said, ‘Good God, Letty, you don’t have to work that hard – they’re not very fussy, you know.’
Letty glanced up. ‘They might not be, but I am. What I do I do properly.’ She made another note in her small neat handwriting. As she did it she looked absurdly like Uncle Arnold, when he came on a visit and sat in the library poring over his ministerial dispatches. I caught Robbie’s eye and knew the same thought was going through his mind. We smiled at each other in shared amusement.
Robbie spent time at the desk in his room, too; I put my hand on his shoulder and noticed the letter he was reading – it was an appeal for help. His face flushed, then he said, ‘A lot of the men are not finding it easy – since Ralph’s a regular now he passes things on to me. Goodness knows, I’ve got more than I’ll ever be able to spend – it might as well benefit some other poor blighter who’s in trouble.’ He reached for his pen and I squeezed his shoulder and slipped away.
His Colonel had written a history of my brothers’ battalion; as he finished each chapter he sent the manuscript on to Robbie, who checked it through diligently. I said to him one day, ‘Oh Robbie – do you have to do that – doesn’t it bring it all back?’
He looked up at me. ‘You know, Helena – it’s a funny thing, but that’s all I seem to be interested in these days – the war. When Ralph came up I really enjoyed thrashing things over with him – and I miss the men.’ He bent over the sheets again.
The local doctor had long chats with him every time he came up to listen to Robbie’s chest. Dr Craig was a big-boned Scot and Robbie usually brought him down to the small drawing room for tea when he had finished his examination, but although he conscientiously addressed a few commonplace remarks about the weather in my direction I sensed he disapproved of me for some reason. I did not mind because his visits cheered Robbie up, so as soon as I had poured the tea I would retreat to a corner with my music scores while they sat over their buttered crumpets, yarning. But once I heard Dr Craig saying ‘And then they sent me back to the St John’s Hospital in Étaples.’
I looked up, surprised. ‘How curious – we were alongside them then.’
He stared at me. ‘What were you doing at Étaples, my lady?’ His tone was almost rude, and I flushed in embarrassment. .
Robbie said quietly, ‘Helena’s entitled to her active-service ribbons, Craig, just like you and I. She was nursing all the way through, from September 1914 – and nearly three years of that in France.’
The doctor’s face changed, and he said very formally, ‘Then I owe you an apology, my lady.’ I did not understand what he meant, but he shook my hand very vigorously when he left, and his manner towards me after that was much warmer.
The stables at Hatton were full again now, and Papa had bought a new mare for my use; she was coal black and lively and I called her Gavotte. I took her out when the Cheshire Hunt met at Hatton – it was a fine autumn day, my blood raced and Gavotte went beautifully. But as I galloped down a slope and saw the pack gaining inexorably on the small frantic tan body I felt a wave of revulsion. I was there at the kill, but I turned my mare aside and walked her into a copse and only just managed to slide off her back before I was violently sick. Dr Craig rode up to me and sprang from his horse. ‘Are you all right, my lady?’ I looked up into his bony face and then turned my eyes back to the yapping hounds. I was crying. He spoke quite gently. ‘Aye, you’d best get back to your brother.’ He cupped his hands for my foot and I mounted and rode back to Hatton. I did not hunt again.