Chapter 16 Lilias #2
They walked on silently for a while, but Lilias’s mood refused to respond now to the banks of wildflowers on either side of the lane.
And when a fox ducked into the hedgerow up ahead with a sly backwards look at them before it disappeared, it reminded her of another sad event.
“A fox got into the chickens six months before David came to us. It killed them all. Those it couldn’t carry away, it bit the heads off and left the bodies.
Senseless, instinctive killing. There were feathers everywhere. ”
“I bet it reminded you of the war.”
She looked at him, knowing he understood completely. “Oh, yes. One thinks one’s moved on, but it’s all there, permanently etched onto one’s soul, isn’t it?”
He nodded. “Oh, yes.”
Lilias remembered the rows and rows of casualties, laid out, ready to be transported to hospital ships, their uniforms soaked with blood, their limbs and parts of their faces often missing.
There had been a pervading smell she’d had to steel herself to face without revulsion, mindful of the watchful eyes of the injured on her face.
The same stench of death and blood that had greeted her in the chicken coop.
“And yet, you know, it wasn’t all bad. I feel guilty for saying so, but the war gave me such a sense of purpose.
I suppose it drew on parts of me which might have remained forever undiscovered if I’d just stayed here for the duration.
I had to find reserves of courage I never knew I possessed. To think quickly. Learn quickly.”
“There’s no need to feel guilty about it. Your lot did a wonderful job. All of you.”
“Thank you. One did one’s best. It was very strange to come back here and take up the reins again. As if time had stood still and yet everything was utterly different at the same time, if you know what I mean.”
He nodded. “I felt as if I was living in some sort of fog or cloud for years, after I got back. Turned to drink, to be honest, to blur it all a bit more. By the time I emerged, blinking into the light again, I found myself going steady with Nadine with a baby on the way. Come to think of it, sometimes it seems as if my whole life has been out of my control. Down to fate or chance or God’s will, whatever name you want to give it.
And just when I’m starting to get there—got my family, got my work, can mostly sleep at night without dreams of my mates getting blown to kingdom come around me—the whole bloody war machine starts up all over again, and this time it’s ruddy Hitler deciding what’s what in my life. ”
He stopped to look at her, shaking his head. “Sorry, that was a bit of a rant.”
“No,” she said softly, “I know exactly what you mean. It’s only in the last few years, since Daddy died, actually, that I’ve been able to make my own choices.”
“And then you get my son foisted upon you.”
Lilias shook her head. “I’ve already told you; we love having David with us. And it’s not as if the world situation would allow me to travel the way I’d planned to, in any case.”
He looked at her. Behind him, the sun was sending dramatic rays of light through the clouds, patterning the fields with stripes. “Is that what you’d planned to do? Travel?”
She nodded. “Yes. I travelled to Egypt and the Middle East with Daddy before he got ill. And Europe. Got a taste for it, I suppose. Anyway, I’ve always longed to do more travelling.
Perhaps to the Americas or Australasia. I have a dream of making my journey up as I go along, and painting people and my impressions as I go. ”
Harry was still looking at her with the same intense expression, and she laughed.
“I daresay it all sounds rather fanciful. I expect, in reality, I’d spend the majority of my time in my hotel room scared witless about being robbed.”
“You know you wouldn’t,” he said. “Although you’d have to be careful abroad with your lovely fair skin, I imagine.”
Lilias flushed, reaching up one hand to her face. It was a very long time indeed since a man had paid her a compliment.
“And it doesn’t sound ridiculous at all,” he went on. “I wanted to travel myself, when I was younger, to India. Who knows, I still might, one day.”
They walked on, Lilias wondering whether Nadine was a part of his future travel plans or not. It wasn’t easy to imagine someone who had found the wilds of Norfolk difficult to cope with surviving in Bombay or Calcutta. But she was glad he could imagine her at large in the world.
“I think we all need to hold on to our dreams at the moment,” she said, speaking out loud. “Our dreams will give us extra strength to get through these difficult times.”
He nodded. “Yes, perhaps they will.”
Lavender Cottage was just around the corner now.
Lilias found herself almost sorry their walk was at an end.
She had enjoyed their conversation hugely.
How good it was to speak to somebody who’d shared much the same experiences as oneself.
To be instinctively understood. No matter how Ruth tried to understand what an impression the Great War had had on her, she was much younger than Lilias and had spent the war years safely at home with their parents.
“We’re almost there,” she told Harry. “David will be so thrilled to see you.”
“And me him.” Harry smiled, and then they were rounding the corner, and there David was, helping Symonds to pile the logs he had obviously just sawn into the horse cart, with Rosie tethered nearby in the meadow, grazing contentedly.
Compass ran forward, barking with joy at the sight of David, and David looked up, immediately spotting his father.
“Daddy!” he shouted, dropping his pile of logs.
“Daddy!” And, seconds later, he was hurling himself into his father’s arms like a torpedo, almost knocking Harry backwards in the process, and Lilias and Harry were laughing, the lingering sadness of their conversation drifting away like mist on the mere.
Harry and David rode in the cart with the logs, laughing and talking together as Lilias flicked the reins and Rosie trotted along the lanes towards home, and as they neared Marsh House, Lilias was imagining the meagre contents of her pantry, trying to think what she could conjure up for lunch after the great Liberate Frank Ceremony had taken place.
So it was something of a shock to turn a corner in the lane to discover a sleek, shiny black motorcar parked outside the house, with a man standing next to it, smoking a cigarette.
Ralph. Lilias recognised her brother-in-law immediately, even though she had only met him on a few occasions.
Only, instead of the smart Savile Row suits he usually favoured, now Ralph was dressed in an army uniform, with the insignia of a captain.
Sighing, Lilias brought Rosie to a halt.
Apart from her panic about Frank, it had been a lovely morning so far, and encounters with Ralph were never pleasant.
She’d managed to avoid them ever since his estrangement from Ruth.
Ralph had his hands on his hips and was glowering from beneath his cap. Somehow managing to grit her teeth and smile at the same time, Lilias climbed down from the cart and went over to greet him.
“Hello, Ralph, how good to see you. I say, you do look distinguished in your uniform. I’m afraid Ruth isn’t here at the moment, if that’s who you’ve come to see. She stayed over in Norwich last night with a friend.”
Ralph frowned. “Well, of course I’ve come to see Ruth, Lilias. Why the devil else would I be here?”
Harry came to stand alongside Lilias with David. “Steady on with the language, old chap,” he said in his best imitation of a toff. “Young ears and all that.”
Lilias stifled a smile. “Oh, Ralph, I don’t think you’ve met David, the evacuee we have staying with us at the moment? This is his father, Harry Smith. Harry, this is Ralph Martin, my sister’s husband.”
Ralph took Harry’s hand and shook it with an abrupt nod. “In a reserved occupation, are you?”
Lilias flushed at her brother-in-law’s rudeness, watching as Harry observed Ralph with undisguised dislike. “I’m a carpenter. Also, at forty-three, I’m a bit long in the tooth for active service.”
Ralph gave a superior shake of his head, almost, Lilias thought, as if he’d been serving in the army for five years rather than five minutes. “If this state of affairs keeps up, they’ll extend conscription to men over fifty, you mark my words.”
Lilias flushed, wondering for the umpteenth time what had possessed Ruth to marry such a pompous, odious man. He had spoken as if Harry were a shirker, which he most definitely was not.
“Can I pass a message on to Ruth when she gets back?” she asked, keen to hurry him on his way. “I’m afraid you’ve caught us at a difficult time, otherwise I’d ask you in to wait.”
Ralph glared at her. When she thought about it, Lilias couldn’t remember him doing anything but glare and pitied the poor troops he would no doubt be ordering around.
“Yes,” he said coldly, opening his car door. “You can tell Ruth to action the letters my solicitor’s been sending her. Inform her that if she fails to do so, it will be the worse for her. She’ll understand what I mean. Good day to you.”
And with this, he touched his hat and got into his car, starting the engine and driving away. Sighing heavily, Lilias caught Harry’s eye and said softly, “Don’t, please; he’s really not worth it. Besides, we have a baby bird to liberate.”
They found Frank on top of the hat stand, where he had left evidence of his presence on one of Ruth’s favourite hats. “Oh, Lord,” said Lilias. “Ruth won’t be happy about that. Come on, David, call Frank down. We’d better get him set free.”
David called to the bird, and soon he was walking towards the door with Frank on his shoulder.
“Goodbye, Frank,” he said tremulously. “Come back and visit us often, won’t you?”
Lilias stood next to Harry as Frank took flight, offering up a prayer that the bird would come and go for a while, to ease David’s sense of loss.
She rather thought she might miss the little thing herself, amazingly enough, although she certainly wouldn’t miss the need to hunt for flies, or the stress about whether or not the door was closed.
Harry stepped forward to put a hand on his son’s shoulder. “You did a very good thing there, son,” he said. “You saved a life. Not many people can say that.”
David nodded, pressing his face close to his father’s side, and a lump rose in Lilias’s throat. “Come on.” She sniffed. “Let’s leave the kitchen door open while we get something to eat, shall we?”