98 
A Bomb at Heathersleigh
The moment Jocelyn opened the door and saw the uniformed military escort wearing somber expressions, with First Lord of the Admiralty Winston Churchill walking toward the door, in her heart she knew why they had come.
That portion of her face capable of it whitened. Unconsciously her hand went to her mouth. Cheeks and lips began to quiver.
“Lady Jocelyn . . .” Churchill began. The tone of his voice confirmed her worst fears.
Jocelyn burst into tears and glanced away. Churchill waited patiently. This was the deepest of human agonies which the senseless war had fated for them to share in this moment.
Jocelyn tried to turn back to face him, eyes nearly as red as the birthmark on cheek and neck.
“I am sorrier than I can tell you,” said Churchill. “Your husband was one of the finest men I knew. You cannot imagine my personal grief for bringing Charles into the war effort. He was a patriot and a fine man.”
Jocelyn nodded, tears pouring from her eyes in a torrent.
“The prime minister sent me personally,” Churchill went on, “to extend the government’s deepest sympathy and sorrow. . . .”
Jocelyn could say nothing. The words entering her ears sounded distant and foreign and hardly registered meaning.
“We learned the news in the middle of the night—only hours ago. . . .”
She wanted to scream in agony, but her heart was constricted in her chest. She gasped for breath.
“At the prime minister’s request I was on a special train to Devon at daybreak.”
Churchill now handed her the single sheet of paper in his hand. The telegram from the minister of war was brief.
CRUISER DAUNTLESS TORPEDOED AND SUNK BY GERMAN U-BOAT OFF COAST OF SCOTLAND. ONE THIRD OF CREW LOST. COMMANDER SIR CHARLES RUTHERFORD AND SON, PETTY OFFICER GEORGE RUTHERFORD, AMONG CASUALTIES. CONDOLENCES TO ALL FAMILY FROM ADMIRALTY, WAR OFFICE, AND GOVERNMENT.
The paper dropped from Jocelyn’s hand and at last a great wail burst from her mouth.
“And George!” she shrieked in disbelief. “God—oh, God!”
By now Catharine was approaching from behind. Jocelyn heard her footsteps and turned.
“What is it, Mother—” Catharine began. But already Jocelyn was running to her youngest daughter.
“It’s your father . . . and George—” she cried, then broke down in a passion of weeping.
Catharine’s large frame and wide embrace swallowed her mother like a child.
Churchill stood gravely waiting. Twenty or thirty awkward seconds passed, during which nothing could be heard but the sounds of sobbing. Sarah and Kate came from the kitchen and were now crying with Jocelyn and Catharine.
At length Jocelyn remembered they were not alone. She tried with difficulty to compose herself, released herself from Catharine, and turned back to the First Lord of the Admiralty.
“I am extremely sorry, Lady Jocelyn,” said Churchill, “but I must return to London without delay. There are many arrangements to be made. Your husband will of course be given full military honors. You will be notified.”
“Yes . . . yes, thank you,” sniffed Jocelyn, lurching shakily for a breath. “It was kind of you to come all this way.”
“Your husband was a friend.”
“I . . . that is . . . our . . . my other daughter . . .” began Jocelyn.
“Yes . . . Amanda—actually we’ve met,” said Churchill. “I felt you needed to know first. But she will be the first person I will see when I return to the city. I intend to go straight to her hotel. I will be speaking to her within hours.”
“Thank you,” said Jocelyn, not realizing at first the implications of what she had just heard. “But I’m afraid I don’t know where she is or how to help you contact her.”
“That will be no problem. I saw her only two days ago. She is in London.”
Suddenly the bombshell broke into the mother’s seared brain.
“London!” exclaimed Jocelyn. “Amanda . . . in London!”
“You’ve not been in touch since her return?”
“Not for a very long time.—Oh, poor Amanda!” exclaimed Jocelyn, breaking into tears again.
“I will do what I can to ease the pain,” said Churchill.
He shook Jocelyn’s hand, uttered a few more words of sympathy, then turned and strode back to the waiting automobile which would return him to the Milverscombe station.
In another minute the women were alone again. Heathersleigh’s desolation had suddenly increased a hundredfold.
“Sarah,” said Jocelyn when she was able, “please find Hector and send him for Maggie. Tell him to bring her to the Hall as quickly as he can.”
The moment she was gone, mother and daughter embraced again, wept several more minutes, then Jocelyn went upstairs to Charles’ study.
She had to use the telephone.