‘He’s gone – oh, Flora, he’s gone.’ Aunt Pru’s scream as she came through the door of Flora’s home got her staring in shock.
It took a moment for her to reply. ‘When, how? Oh, Freddy, no. No.’
‘I came home to find this. It were propped up by me milk bottle, and there was a bunch of flowers next to it. I were that angry, I threw the flowers into the grate. Eeh, Flora, what am I to do, lass?’
Flora didn’t know what to say. The appeals for young men to join up had moved to an almost brainwashing pitch, with posters everywhere pointing an accusing finger, and recruitment officers visiting factories, upper schools and universities. She and Aunt Pru should have known that Freddy wouldn’t resist and should have been more vigilant with him.
‘How can they take them so young – Freddy’s only sixteen! I thought the conscription of married men had made the difference they needed. Oh, Aunt Pru! We will have to contact the powers that be and tell them his real age.’
They were in each other’s arms, clinging on to their love to help them, but it didn’t, not really; nothing could ease the desolation they felt.
Aunt Pru pulled away and shook her head. ‘Naw. I must let him take this step. I’ve allus said as he’s to make his own decisions. All we can do is pray he will change his mind once he gets in the thick of it – a lad who used to be at my school did. He told the truth of his age and they sent him home. But oh, Flora, what if he doesn’t? I can’t bear it, I can’t.’
‘You will find a way, Aunt Pru – we women have to.’
‘Eeh, hark at me, and you haven’t heard nowt in these last six months about your Cyrus, poor lad. I’m sorry, lass. Like you say, we’re to get on with it.’
‘I wish I could hear. I have sent parcels to the Red Cross for him, but haven’t heard from them as to whether they were able to get them through. Anyway, we have a more pressing need, in what Freddy has done. We need to contact him and . . . well, Aunt Pru, you may not like what I’m going to say, but we need to offer him our support. He will need it.’
‘Aye. I’ll go and put his flowers into a vase. Will you come for your tea? It’s nice enough to sit out. A lovely June day, and here we are in the doldrums.’
‘That will be nice. I’ll see you later.’ The hug Aunt Pru gave her held tension. For all her brave words, it was going to take a lot for them to come to terms with Freddy going and, she knew, a lot of agonizing in the future after he was posted.
As they sat in the garden, Flora broached the subject that had been on her mind for a while. ‘Aunt Pru, I would like to go back to work. I was wondering, now that Alice is weaned from my breast, if you would become her nanny? It would be full-time. And you would have to take over the reading lessons in the church hall, but Alice is used to going to those and loves all the attention she gets.’
‘Oh, Flora, that would be my salvation, lass. Aye, I would, but can you afford to pay me? You knaw as I would do it for nowt, but I’d have to give me jobs up. Eeh, I’d love to do the class an’ all. I’ve envied you doing that, while I were at the cafe working.’
‘Yes, I can manage to pay you. I’ll match what you get now and a bit over, and the women are getting on so well, especially Mrs Larch, so I would hate for the classes to have to stop. They pay ten pennies a month – well, those who can afford it. They buy their own pencils and notebooks, though some make the best out of anything they can get their hands on: the backs of letters, and sheets ripped out of their grocery order books. One came in stinking of fish one day. She’d only cut up the wrapping off the fish she’d brought from the fishmonger – there was a ruckus about that, I can tell you!’
They both laughed. For Flora, her laugh held relief, for she had longed to get back to work. She’d gone into the hospital and had played the piano once a week for the injured – those nearly blind and the poor souls who were fully blind, who had found solace in her music, and they all loved to hold Alice. But that had only served to show Flora just how short-staffed they were at the hospital, and had set up a need in her to get back to doing more for the war effort.
Flora found that she was readily taken on at Moorfields Hospital, and her step was light as she approached it a week later. But her heart lifted with joy when she entered the ward. ‘Ella! Oh, Ella, what are you doing here?’
‘Flors! Flors – oh, it’s good to see you. I was going to try to look you up, but I’ve had no time.’
The tut-tut of the sister in charge had them moving out of their hug and standing to attention.
‘I gather you two know each other?’
‘Yes, Sister, sorry, Sister – we were in Belgium together.’
‘Well, I have to say: well done for that. We all heard about the plight of the Red Cross nurses caught out there.’ She looked at the watch pinned to her frock. ‘I expect you need to catch up. Pop along to the canteen, but don’t take long. Bedpan duty will be in ten minutes and I want you both attending to it.’
They almost tripped over each other as they rushed out of the door into the corridor. ‘Ella, I can’t believe it. Where have you been? Did you get my letters?’
‘Only just, and I was going to contact you. I’ve been working in a field hospital in France. I have been sent back here to learn how to look after those with eye injuries. I will be going back in about six weeks, but I am a bit frustrated, as Sister uses me more as a ward orderly rather than letting me near any treatment. I have contacted the Red Cross General Office about it. But what about you? Married – and to that bloke we met at the frontier! You dark horse – are you happy?’
As they sipped the strong, stewed tea, Flora told her own and Cyrus’s story. Ella was so sorry to hear of Cyrus’s plight, but was thrilled to learn of Alice and asked question after question.
‘Hey, I feel as though I’m being interrogated here.’
‘Sorry, just one more. Have you heard from Mags, Flora?’
‘Not much. It saddens me, but she doesn’t seem to want to know. All I can glean is that she is helping her father. She hasn’t met anyone, and doesn’t intend to. I wish I could help her.’
‘I will write, too, while I am here. Maybe on one of our weekends off we could travel up to the North to see her?’
‘That would be lovely. I have a brother who goes up regularly to the family-owned mill. He’s thinking of living up there. I see him occasionally – well, you know how my family situation was, and it has worsened since, but for some reason my oldest brother seems to want to keep in contact. I sometimes wonder if he is my father’s spy, keeping an eye on what I am up to. Anyway, I could ask him to take us.’
‘Oh, let’s. That would be wonderful. I’ll write to Mags later today and put the feelers out. In the meantime, you can seek out your brother and see if he will help us.’
‘I will. Oh, Ella, it’s good to see you. You seem to have grown – not in height, but in confidence, and it’s good to see.’
‘I could do with a few inches, but no, I’m stuck as I am.’ They giggled at this. ‘Joking apart, I have seen some terrible things, Flors. Far worse than we ever experienced. I have had to toughen up and stand on my own two feet. You’re often called upon to make life-and-death decisions, and can’t always defer them to others. You should come out, Flors: we need you.’
This last sentence settled in Flora, and she pondered it for most of the day. Could she? It would be a wrench leaving Alice, but she would be fine with Aunt Pru. I so need a huge distraction from the heartache that is my constant companion. But then hadn’t she read that the Red Cross wouldn’t take married women?
Harold flirted with Ella on the journey up north, hardly taking any notice of Flora. He knew of Mags’s family and their mill, and when Flora had asked him for a lift, he’d told her, ‘I heard that Witherbrook had a daughter who thinks she could run his mill. Ha, women today think they can do anything. Give me a feminine woman, who just wants to run my home and sit and sew, or something.’
‘And who lets you have your mistresses.’
He’d become angry at this retort from Flora. ‘That’s another part of a man’s life that a woman is advised not to interfere with. Mother has made that mistake.’
She’d been surprised that he hadn’t mentioned the mysterious older brother again, but was glad when he had agreed to take her and Ella to see Mags. And even more pleased to hear that Mags wanted to see them.
Harold’s attention towards Ella had worried her, as she knew Harold would eat the Ellas of this world for breakfast; but his reaction when he met Mags was as if someone had hit him with a sledgehammer. Even more disconcerting, Mags had the same reaction to him.
They stared at each other, and hardly took any notice of her introductions. Before Ella and Flora could say hello to Mags, Harold had invited them all out to dinner with him that evening. She and Ella exchanged glances. Ella’s held amusement, but to Flora it seemed like a clash of giant personalities that would end in hurt for Mags, and she intended to disillusion both girls about her brother.
Once he’d left to go and see to the business he had at the mill, the three of them hugged, shed tears and chatted, all at the same time.
To Flora, it was like coming home for a second time; home to her sisters, as she’d never stopped thinking about them in that way. It felt so good to be with them again.
Mags took them into her beautiful home, surrounded by magnificent scenery of rugged, mountainous hills and green fields. The house was more a mansion, and yet had a homely feel, smelling of polish and fresh flowers, with bright colours giving it a light, airy look. The furnishings were modern, ornate and grand, with high-backed chairs with thick gold velvet cushions in an elaborately carved wooden frame giving a touch of elegance.
Mags’s mother was welcoming and an older version of Mags herself – tall and self-assured, giving the impression that she was in charge of any situation. She greeted them as Mags had done when she first met them, with a big hug, before showing them into the garden.
Once they were seated under a sunshade, Flora looked at Mags and thought how different she looked in her summer attire. Her dress was of cream cotton, with a pattern of tiny rosebuds in pinks and yellows. It was cut to fit the bodice, with long sleeves and a feminine neckline that showed a tiny glimpse of her cleavage; the skirt flared out and flowed to the floor. ‘You’re looking so well, Mags. With so little news of you, I’ve been frightened as to your true welfare.’
‘I’m all right, Flors. Sorry, but I found it difficult to write. My pen wanted to go on its own and pour out things that I didn’t want to revisit, so I avoided picking it up and instead threw myself into my work. Sometimes I had the feeling that I wanted to forget it all, and that meant both of you, too. But that passed and I’ve loved hearing all your news, and am so happy that you asked to come up and see me.’
‘We wouldn’t have given up on you – we understood.’
‘I know. And as for your letter about your marriage, well! Though none of it surprised me really. You are impetuous and you fell in love at first sight. We knew that, didn’t we, Ella?’
Ella nodded and smiled.
‘Well, I’m jolly glad it has worked out for you . . . I – I mean . . .’
‘No, don’t worry, Mags. I don’t want you to feel awkward at talking about Cyrus. I want to talk about him. I long for the day he will come home. I just wish I knew how he was being treated.’
‘I’ve read that officers are treated with respect, Flors, so try to hang on to that. And what about you, Ella, going back into the field? I couldn’t do that. I so admire you.’
The chat went on for a while, mostly about their exploits in Belgium, which now seemed to have been an adventure, instead of the terror-filled hours they really had been.
It was Mags who changed the subject. ‘Tell me about your brother, Flors. I was surprised when you wrote that he was bringing you, as I thought, when you said you were now fully estranged from your family, that you meant all of them. I’m glad you didn’t. I think Harold a handsome man, and it’s interesting to me how much involvement he has in the mill industry. Is that why he hasn’t gone to war – essential work, and all that?’
Although Flora wouldn’t want Mags to fall for Harold, she was glad to hear her taking an interest in any man. She’d had the impression that, since her terrible experience, Mags had avoided any romantic entanglement. ‘Oh, he’s all right. I wouldn’t say he’s avoided the war – well, maybe. But although he’s handsome, I’d advise any girl to give him a wide berth; he’s not great husband material.’
‘Hmm, maybe he can be brought into line.’
They all laughed at this.
‘Anyway, I bet it would be fun trying. Have you told him anything about what happened – you know . . .’
‘No, Mags. We made a pact, and I’ve kept it. Not even family, we said.’
‘Oh, I was just making sure. I shouldn’t have mentioned it. Anyway, your turn, Ella, tell us what it’s like in France. I mean, what it’s really like: is it hell?’
Listening to Ella, the urge that had seized Flora before revisited her. Would it be possible for me to go? Could I be parted from Alice for that long? But then she decided that, as nurses were needed so badly, she had a duty to try, and made her mind up that she would make enquiries. This was compounded in her mind when Ella said, ‘I’m not supposed to say anything, but you know that the Red Cross is forewarned of where they are most likely to be needed next? Well, there is a new field hospital being constructed in Dieppe, in Normandy. I suppose, from that, we can deduce that a new offensive is being planned, as that is usually the case when we are on the move. I have been told that, after the training I am undertaking at Moorfields, I am to be posted there.’
‘They must be expecting a lot of casualties to have a hospital constructed. What is it like working in tents?’ As she asked this, Flora thought of Freddy and her arms pebbled with goosebumps. What if he was sent there? It was then that she made her mind up. If he was, then she would go, too.
‘It’s muddy most of the time. France is having a wet summer. And chaotic, as it’s difficult to bring any proper order to things, because new casualties are arriving all the time. You just get everyone settled and some sort of routine in place, when you hear the guns start in the distance and, before long, convoys of ambulances arrive, or a hospital train. But they mostly come in during the night. And it isn’t just the living wounded that they bring; there are those that didn’t make it, who need cleaning up and identifying, by tagging them. I dread that duty. All those young lives. And those whose bodies are brought to us are considered lucky, I know; a lot are just left where they fell, and have to be hastily buried during a sort of truce that takes place for that purpose. And that’s because there are so many wounded to transport that the dead have to be left behind. At least the dead that are brought in have a decent burial in a marked grave, and their families know where they are and receive any belongings they had on them.’
They were all silent after listening to this. Flora sipped her tea, not touching the chocolate biscuit that had been served with it. She hadn’t the stomach for it, as once more the reality of war had touched her, with the vivid descriptions Ella had given. How could she not offer her services now? She would feel as if somehow she had betrayed Cyrus, if she didn’t go to the help of the men he’d been forced to leave behind. Yes, she would miss Alice – it would feel as if only half of her was going; but when Alice grew up and was told why her mother had gone, she would understand. And she couldn’t be left in more loving care than with Aunt Pru, who adored her.
At dinner, the worry Flora felt about the attraction that Mags and Harold had shown for each other grew. They looked as if they had known each other all their lives. Having so much common ground, with the daily life of running a mill to discuss, made their conversation flow, and even she had to admit they made a handsome pair, and that each seemed to bring the other alive in a way she’d never seen before.
Their engrossment in each other gave Flora time to talk to Ella about her plans. Ella was more than a little surprised.
‘Really? You mean you would seriously try to get to work in France?’
‘If they will have me, yes. I have a lot to offer, but I have heard they don’t take married women.’
‘In theory, no. But in practice they can’t turn them down, as they need all the hands they can get. If you’re serious about this, Flors, then apply.’
‘I am serious, Ella. It will help me, as well as me helping others. I need to be stretched to my limit, to get through the years ahead of me. I thought going out to work would do it, but it isn’t enough. It isn’t. I have to seek out something that will take me so far out of my humdrum routine, and will drain me, so that I cannot think, let alone feel.’
‘Oh, Flors, does it hurt that much?’
‘It does. It hurts so much that only inflicting more hurt on myself can possibly get me to the other side of the pain. Tearing myself away from Alice, and coping with what you have described, will do that. Does that make sense?’
Flora didn’t think it did make sense to Ella, even though she nodded her head. But it did to her, and that’s what mattered. On her return to London she would put the wheels in motion and do all she could to make going to work in France a reality.