Chapter 20 Lilias
Lilias
Somehow, despite Ruth and Gloria officially having been an item for over a year, she and Lilias had never managed to meet each other. Gloria worked long hours, and Ruth generally met her in Norwich so they could take in a play or a film.
But now, with Christmas almost upon them once again—David’s third Christmas at Marsh House—Lilias had decided to hold a special “Meet Gloria” tea.
There were hard-boiled eggs, stewed apple with the last windfalls of the season, bread and margarine, and rock cakes.
As a meal, it was something of a hotchpotch, but Lilias was sure Gloria was just as used to such scraped-together meals in Norwich as they were here in the countryside.
It was the nature of getting by in wartime.
Ruth had gone into the city on the eleven o’clock bus and was due to return with Gloria on the four o’clock, just after David got back from school. It was three o’clock now, and time to go and collect him, so, provided she managed to keep Compass away from the covered food, all should be well.
“Come on,” Lilias said to the dog. “The best way to keep you out of trouble is to take you with me.”
As she closed the garden gate behind her, Lilias hoped beyond hope that the tea went well.
Ruth had bustled off to Norwich in her very best clothes to fetch her love, and Lilias had managed to stop herself from issuing any dampening warnings about not being too over the top and obvious in front of David, for she knew she had to trust Ruth.
And yet, as she hurried along towards the school, anxious not to be late after having to wait for her rock cakes to come out of the oven, Lilias couldn’t shake off a feeling of foreboding.
Just lately she’d been worried sick about Harry, because the government had recently raised the age of conscription to fifty-one, and she knew from his letters that he was expecting to be called up any day.
They had only seen Harry once in the past year, but that one time had been enough to reassure both David and herself that he had, indeed, survived the ordeal of the Blitz in London.
And now he was to be called up to face who knew what.
It was so unfair for him and all the other men of his age who’d already done their bit in the first war.
And yet what alternative was there? Something had to be done to end all this.
In France, Lilias’s scattered family were virtually starving, and she’d had no news of Sabine’s son Etienne since he’d been sent from the prisoner of war camp to work in a coal mine.
Sometimes, no matter how many socks you knitted, how many apples and blackberries you turned into jam, or how many aluminium saucepans you donated to be turned into Spitfires, one could feel so completely helpless, bumbling along with life in the countryside, far away from everything.
In a way, Lilias supposed, she’d come up with the idea of the tea for Gloria to keep maudlin thoughts at bay.
Now, she only hoped it went well. But then, why shouldn’t it?
The tea she’d prepared was halfway decent.
She had Compass with her, so it ought to remain intact, and the buses from Norwich generally ran on time.
All they needed now was for Gloria to be delightful, or, if not quite delightful, then acceptable, and why wouldn’t she be?
And yet, despite all the rationalisation and stern talkings-to Lilias issued to herself as she hurried towards the school to meet David, the feeling of foreboding refused to budge.
In fact, with every step she took, it seemed to increase.
So, when she neared the school entrance to find the headmaster standing outside with his hands on his hips, clearly waiting for her, Lilias wasn’t entirely surprised, even though her heart immediately sank down to her boots.
“Ah,” he said grimly. “Good afternoon, Miss Carter-Brown.”
“Good afternoon, Mr. Jones. I’m so sorry to be late.”
“Yes, well, now that you are here, you’d better come inside. I’m afraid your evacuee has got himself into trouble.”
There. She had known something was wrong.
“Oh, dear. Whatever’s happened? He didn’t do a bunk while you were all out wood collecting, did he? He always has been rather afraid of those woods. I think all the evacuees are a bit. Just let me tie the dog up.”
But there wasn’t anything to tie Compass to, and, since Mr. Jones just went on silently glowering as he waited for her, Lilias didn’t dare ask if she could bring the dog inside, or suggest they carry out their conversation outside.
So, in the end, she was forced to make Compass sit and tell him firmly to stay while she went into the school, following Mr. Jones to his office.
Once there, Lilias forgot all about Compass, for David was seated on a chair with his head lowered, but not enough to prevent Lilias from spotting the blood-soaked handkerchief he was holding up to his nose.
She ran over to him. “David!” she cried. “Whatever’s happened to you?” Right up close to him, she could see he had a black eye, too, and his shirt sleeve was almost completely torn off.
“What’s ‘happened to him,’ Miss Carter-Brown,” Mr. Jones told her acerbically, “is that he picked a fight with young Toby Cook. The poor boy’s nose is broken, and he’s on his way to hospital as we speak.
And your stubborn little evacuee refuses to utter a word in explanation about what instigated this . . . this outpouring of violence.”
Lilias crouched next to David and put one hand on his shoulder. She could feel his little body trembling beneath her touch and sensed he was directing all his energy into keeping his tears at bay.
“If you don’t, as yet, know what caused the fight, then I fail to see how you can blame David for it,” Lilias said, furious at the way the headmaster had used the words little evacuee, as if he were speaking about excrement in the gutter.
“Master Smith was on top of Master Cook, pummelling his nose into a pulp. There can be no excuse for such behaviour, whatever the circumstances. None whatever.”
Could it be true? Had David really done that?
When Lilias turned back to the boy, something about his frozen posture told her it was.
He would never have done such a thing without good reason, but it was quite clear he had indeed done it.
It was also highly unlikely she was going to uncover the reason, here in this classroom, in front of the headmaster.
“Come along, David,” she said now. “Let’s take you home.”
“Yes,” agreed the headmaster. “And, pending an investigation into this incident, I must ask you to keep him there. We have no room for violent upstarts in this school.”
It was quite clear to Lilias the man had no intention whatever of giving David a fair hearing.
No doubt Toby’s father, Percy Cook, had him in his back pocket for some nefarious reason.
Perhaps Mr. Jones had a penchant for black-market whisky, prime pork, or one of the other commodities Cook was supplying the neighbourhood with.
And if there was to be no justice, then David would be far better off out of the school.
“Come along, David,” she said. “Let’s go home.” But when she took David’s hand in hers, he winced with pain, and, looking down at his poor hand, Lilias saw it was covered in red, raw welts. “Why, you’ve beaten him!” she exclaimed, horrified.
“Such behaviour cannot be allowed to go unpunished, Miss Carter-Brown,” Mr. Jones began to say, but Lilias had had quite enough.
She knew if she didn’t vacate the classroom as soon as possible, she might very well take hold of the headmaster’s cane from the teacher’s desk and set about the pompous, sadistic man with it. Odious, odious little shrew.
“Come on, David,” she said, contempt in every syllable. “We’re leaving.” And she marched to the door, with David following closely behind, only to find Compass was not where she had left him.
“Oh, blast that dog!” she said angrily, calling to him.
“Compass! Compass!” When a cursory look around the playground failed to locate him, Lilias sighed.
David’s head was bent, the cloth at his nose still absorbing blood.
The boy had to be her priority right now; the dog would just have to find his own way home.
“I expect the little rascal’s home already,” she said brightly, somehow managing to keep the anger and frustration from her voice.
Why did this have to happen this afternoon of all afternoons, with Gloria on her way to visit them?
“No doubt he’s scratching at the door to be let in this very minute. ”
“I’m sorry, Auntie Lilias,” David mumbled, still with his head lowered, speaking for the first time since she had arrived at the school.
“We’ll speak about it all later on, shall we?
” she said, patting him on the shoulder.
“After we’ve got you cleaned up and put some salve on your hand.
” Her heart turned over yet again at the thought of that cane swishing through the air and down onto David’s hand while he stood there, holding a rag up to his bleeding nose with the other, and she had the idea that if Harry had been here, he’d have been straight round to the school to give the bully of a headmaster a taste of his own medicine.
But Harry wasn’t here. Worst luck.
“You can have your tea up in your room if you don’t want Auntie Ruth’s friend to see you like this,” she told David. “Although should you want to eat with us, I daresay all this will be rather a talking point. You may decide yourself.”
David just nodded.
“Can you see Compass?” Lilias asked him as they finally neared the house. She wasn’t really worried about the dog; she just thought it might be a distraction for David to think about him.
“Not yet, Auntie Lilias.” David took the rag from his nose to answer her, providing Lilias with the opportunity to see that the flow of blood looked as if it was slowing down.