Village Boy Part 10 reposted latest post 25/04/06 p.2
The CBB -> Starting again at Sarres...
#1: Village Boy Part 10 reposted latest post 25/04/06 p.2 Author: patmac, Location: Yorkshire England PostPosted: Tue Apr 04, 2006 7:16 pm

OK. We'll not let them beat us! I'm just sorry I've lost all the comments. they do keep me going.

I arrived at Polgarth with a mixture of excitement and dread. The job was daunting enough. To be offered the chance to teach the way I wanted in my first post was a dream come true but, now I had arrived, I was filled with doubts. What if it didn’t work? I wondered if I could keep order in a class of small boys or would my more informal approach tempt the boys into mischief.

In my mind’s eye, I could see Miss Annersley’s stately figure and the way she seemed to keep order just with a look. I felt I could never aspire to that.

A lot was riding on this term. I was committed to Hugh and he was committed to Polgarth. If I couldn’t make a success of this I didn’t know what I would do. Hugh, bless him, was as supportive as he could be, recalling his first days at the school. We walked up from the Station with our small cases, my trunk having gone on ahead.

It had seemed really strange packing that again. It had been in the cellar since I came home from the Chalet School so long ago for I hadn’t bothered to take much to College each term. This was a permanent move and my next would be into a cottage nearby. Polgarth was now my home.

I could tell Mum had mixed feelings about me going. She was pleased for me and proud that I had got such a good job, but she knew this was a sea change. In future, I would be returning as a visitor, not a member of the household. Oddly enough, I didn’t feel at all upset about that aspect of the move. My future was with Hugh, wherever it might lead and my thoughts were on the future.

Hugh wanted to walk up to the Lodge with me but I insisted on him leaving me at the gates to the drive. My poor darling was so keen to protect me but I needed to do this by myself.

As I opened the gate to the little garden at the front of the Lodge, the door flew open and a stocky young woman appeared on the doorstep. “Welcome to the mad house!” She exclaimed. “I’ve been watching for you.”

She ushered me in and pulled me into the kitchen. “No one else is here yet. I came back early for various reasons.” She stopped in mid flow and looked at me, uncertainly. “You are Miss Hatcherd, aren’t you? I’ve only seen you in the distance before when you were staying at the farm. I haven’t dragged a perfect stranger into the house by mistake, have I?”

I chuckled. This impetuous young woman could only be Mary. “I certainly am, but I’m Dorothy, off duty. You’ve got to be Miss Collins.”

“Mary, please. I suppose Hugh described me.”

I smiled at her and nodded. “He’s got a way with words. It could only be you.”

As she busied herself making a cup of tea, I watched her, wondering. Although I was glad we had heard about her brother’s death so I could avoid putting my foot in it and upsetting her, I could hardly blurt out that I knew. Perhaps she was the type to be very private about such things.

A cup of tea appeared on the table in front of me, interrupting my thoughts and she sat opposite, cradling her cup between her hands.

“When are the others due?” I asked after taking my first sip. “I was really glad to see you here already. I thought I would be alone tonight.”

“They’ll be trickling in over the next few days. I had a card from Stacie saying she’d be here tomorrow and that she’s bringing some French and German books. You realise you’ll have adult classes as well? We’re all keen to improve our languages.”

I must have looked my relief, for she laughed at me. “You look as nervous as I felt when I first came. I couldn’t believe my luck but it was a challenge.”

When I had finished my tea, she showed me up to my slip of a room, formed by dividing a bigger room, and also where to find the bathroom.

“I’ll be in the sitting room when you’re ready. We are eating up at Chaucer House. We only cook here at the weekends, except for breakfast.”

I thanked her and she left me to unpack. I decided to leave the trunk for now and unpacked my small case, brushed my hair and descended the steep stairs again.

The door to the sitting room was ajar and I entered to find Mary curled up in a chair, a book on her lap, staring out of the window, bleakly. I hesitated, and then took a deep breath and went to sit in the chair next to her. She blinked and I could almost see her paste the smile on her face as she turned to me.

“You were quick!” she said briskly.

“We had a few days in Bowness last week. Hugh asked someone if they knew you.”

“You heard, then.”

I nodded. “I don’t want to pry but it’s a bit awkward, knowing. I just thought you ought to know that Hugh and I know about your brother.”

“I can see that would be awkward. At the moment, I don’t think I can talk about it. I’ve spent the last couple of weeks dealing with everyone else’s grief and I really don’t know what to think or how I feel. I think it coming after the war was over is the hardest part. All Mum could talk about was ‘when George comes home’. Then we got the news and she just sort of fell apart.”

“You don’t have to say anything and I’ll not tell anyone, unless you’d rather.”

“I know it’s silly but I couldn’t bear sympathy at the moment. I think I’ve cried all the tears I can.” She caught her breath with a little sob.

“Just remember when you are ready, I lost my brother, too, and Hugh lost his mother and she was all the family he had. We do understand”

“I will and thank you.” She dashed her hands against her eyes and stood up. “Let’s get off to lunch. But before that, let’s see that ring!”

I held my left hand out and she looked at the ring in amazement.

“That’s beautiful. Congratulations, Dorothy. We were all so pleased for Hugh when he told us. We all like him and he deserves to be happy. When’s the wedding?”

As we walked up to the school, I told her of our plans. I hadn’t realised how much I had missed being with other girls of my own generation. Mum is a dear, of course, but it’s not the same.

*

John and Charles were at lunch and Mrs Newby greeted me as if I was her long lost daughter. Afterwards, I went back to the Lodge and unpacked my trunk to get at the books and posters for the French Corner, while Mary went to the Craft Room to prepare some items for lessons.

When I had finished in the library, it still looked rather empty and I was standing wondering what I could do to fill the gaps when Charles came in to call me to tea.

“It looks very good.” He said encouragingly.

“It’s a bit bare.” I replied.

“There’ll be more to come. In the meantime, why not label things like the shelves, tables and chairs in French, even the window and the wall and the floor. You could put everyday things like a cup and saucer or even a pen or something on the shelves with labels in French. They’re things they’ll need to know anyway.”

“That’s a good idea, thanks. I’ll grab some things later and write out some cards this evening. It’s a good idea for a game for the little ones as well. Nancy said she’d start them with little games and they could go round matching cards to objects in the classroom.”

“You might need to do it in the staff room as well!” He said with a twinkle in his eye. “Some of us are going to have to start all over again you know.”

By the time we went to bed, Mary and I were getting along fine. While I cut out pieces of coloured card, scrounged from a big box of odds and ends behind the curtain which hid the working area of the sitting room from the sitting end, she was cutting circles from old serial packets ready for the smaller children to make bobbles with wool unravelled from jumpers. We chatted of this and that, keeping the conversation light and I found it was easier to do this sort of basic work with someone to talk to.

*

The next day was spent helping with stationery and all the bustle that a new school year brings. During the course of the day, Paul Cready and Nancy arrived, followed by Jack Parsons. There were some desks to move as the numbers in various forms had changed and we worked steadily till tea time.

“Thank you everybody.” Said John. “I suggest we stop now. We’re a bit ahead of my schedule for once and we might as well make the most of it.”

Mary and I walked back to the Lodge to wash and change. As we arrived, a voice called from the kitchen. “I’m back!”

“Stacie!” exclaimed Mary, and pulled me with her into the room.

I stood stock still in the doorway as I looked at the poised young woman sitting at the table with a cup of tea in her hand. There was something familiar about her and yet …

She looked at me and leapt to her feet. “Dorothy Hatcherd!” she exclaimed. “My, but you’ve changed since I last saw you.”

It all clicked. “You can’t talk, Stacie Benson! I didn’t recognise you!”

We both burst out laughing and Mary looked from one to the other of us and grinned.

“I gather introductions are a little superfluous! I’ll pour some tea for Dorothy and me while you two catch up.”

Soon we were all sitting round and Mary listened, wide eyed. as we told one another what had happened since the last time we had met. Stacie had left before the Anschluss to go up to Oxford so she had not heard the whole story of how we got away.

“I did hear from Jo Bettany and she gave me an outline of it. She’d just married Jack Maynard and they were living in Guernsey last I heard. I dashed off a quick reply but heard no more.”

I quickly brought her up to date with what I knew. “Most of that comes from Hilary Burn. We’ve managed to keep in touch and she’s teaching at the Chalet School now. I doubt if Jo would remember me now. She’d left by the time I started. I met her triplets last week though, up in the Lake District.”

“Triplets!” Mary and Stacie chorused. I nodded. “There was a whole party of them. Sybil Russell, Rix and Peggy Bettany and, would you believe, Reg Entwistle.”

I’d just finished telling them the story when the door opened and two girls came in, clad in britches and bearing a bag of buns. These turned out to be Anne and Christine who had arrived a day earlier than expected and the talk turned to school matters.

In the hustle and bustle of the next few days, Stacie and I tried to catch up on our news. She had brought a load of French and German books with her, some of them a little too old for the Chaucer House students but which were greeted with joy by Ed Clark when we took them up to Polgarth. In return, he gave us a pile of French story books which he had acquired over the years. It certainly helped to fill out my little library.

*

Once the boys arrived, there was little time to spare. I found them, on the whole, willing to learn once I had caught their interest and a fashion quickly developed for finding French words or pronunciations to express themselves. True to my expectations, it was the little ones who seemed to learn the quickest, possibly because they were less self conscious. Nancy joined in enthusiastically and soon the traditional rhymes for choosing ‘it’ or counting games, were becoming interspersed with French ones.


I didn’t see a lot of Hugh. We were both busy and had agreed that I should make my own way and we would be wary of spending too much time together at the expense of other colleagues. We would be living together within a year and we had our lives ahead of us. As the term went by, I became more and more certain that Polgarth was the right place for me.

Stacie was a great support. I hadn’t known her well at school. She was a little older than me and, while that had not seemed to make a difference with Hilary, Stacie somehow stood apart from the others. I knew from Hilary that she had had a rather odd upbringing and although she was so advanced in Classical Studies, was rather patchy in other things.

To be truthful, I’d been a bit in awe of her. I knew she had gone up to Oxford and was expected to do well so I was surprised to find her teaching the basics to small boys here.

We went for a walk one day and she told me more of her story. I knew there had been some problems when she was at school and that her back was weak but I was horrified to find she was so alone in the world. Her Aunt and Uncle sounded kind but I didn’t think they had any idea how to cope with her. Oddly enough, it didn’t seem to bother her that much, I suppose she was used to it. She got on with everyone and I heard that she was a really good teacher but she was still determined to go back to Oxford and she spent a good deal of her spare time reading Greek texts and making notes in preparation for that day.

She was the only other person at Chaucer who spoke French fluently and so she helped me with teaching such staff as were keen, which turned out to be everyone. Most people had the basics but their pronunciation was incredibly bad and what they did know was of no use in an everyday situation. It turned out to be tremendous fun and we instituted a French Hour in the evenings twice a week where everyone had to speak French. It really took me back to school where a weird polyglot mixture of languages had reigned in the Common Rooms. At least here, there were no fines for speaking in English.

Mary dragged me off to the Kite Club and I met Reg Entwistle and the other Inseparables. ‘Work Hard, Play Hard’ seemed to be their motto and I found them a delightful crowd.

We went home to my parents for half term and it was, as I expected, different. I was glad to see they seemed to have adjusted to my absence and, although Tom’s death would leave a permanent scar, they were slowly recovering. Mum had joined the Women’s Institute and Dad had taken up Crown Bowling, which he could do just as well with one arm as two.

Mum was beginning to pester me about plans for the wedding. We really hadn’t thought it through very much. One of the issues was which church to choose. Mum had stopped attending our local church when the Vicar had preached a most inflammatory sermon early in the war. Dad had backed her well and truly. Neither of them would hold any truck with anti Jewish sentiments and, though I was at College at the time and missed the big row, I gather that Mum told him in no uncertain terms what she thought of his un-Christian sentiments.

Neither Hugh nor I wanted a big wedding, though I did want a white one if we could afford it. Bridesmaids were likely to cause a headache as neither of us had any girl relatives.

Eventually, I wrote to Hilary, with some trepidation, asking if she would be my Maid of Honour. I hadn’t seen her since her fiancé was killed and, though her letters sounded as if she was recovering from it, I needed to see her to be sure.

Mum suggested I should ask her up at Christmas so we could catch up properly and discuss things like dresses. Rationing was even stricter than it had been in the war and there would be no question of having dresses made from new material. I think if we had known then just how long rationing would continue, and that the worst was yet to come, we would have been most depressed. ‘Make do and Mend’ was still the watchword and would be well into the 50’s.

It was Hugh who came up with the idea of being married in the School Chapel, immediately after the end of term in the Summer of 1946. I had doubts about whether Mum would accept the idea but, after she and Dad had visited Polgarth a couple of times, she warmed to it and we spoke, first to John Wheeler and then to Eric. They were happy about it and Mr Wilson agreed to officiate so we made plans accordingly.

By the time we went back to Leeds for Christmas, I felt really settled. I was looking forward to being at home and to seeing Hilary, who was to come for New Year as she had before. Most of all though, I was looking forward to time with Hugh. If the weather was good enough, we planned to take the train to Scarborough for a day or two. I remembered going down as a child in winter when there were no trippers and the beaches stretched empty. A couple of days alone together were very overdue, we both felt the need to get away.

*



Much to our relief, we are all together again. Hanson, who thinks about these things, had wondered if they would split us up so we could, as he put it, ‘leaven the mix’. When MacDonald asked him what on earth he meant by that, he explained that we were taking all the form prizes and no one else got a look in so they might decide to spread us out and give someone else a chance. Sometimes, Hanson makes my head ache.

There have been yet more changes during the summer. We have several new classrooms which are really huts and will be rather cold in the winter in spite of the stoves and dormitories have been moved round yet again because there are some new boys as well as the ones who have come up from Chaucer. Lucky for us, the Prefects must have given a good report of us for we have, Kourakis included, two interconnecting rooms with three beds in each. This time, we have proper cubicles with curtains and each have our own cupboard, which is called a closet, right beside our beds.

We aren’t together quite as much in lessons now, except for Maths and English as we are beginning to specialise. I am doing more science, as are Hanson and Copley, while MacDonald is taking some engineering. The others are taking what is called the arts route but doesn’t mean art at all but more general subjects and, lucky dogs, are learning French.

Our form is smaller this year and there are just us six and another seven boys who have been held back from going into the Upper Fifth and are repeating a year. A couple of them are not exactly pleased with that and look set to give Hanson a hard time as he is so much younger than them. Let them try, is all I say. They’ll soon find out they have taken on the six of us if they do that!

The nicest thing is that we have Mr Douglas as Form Master again. We’re all very chuffed at that. He’s fair and doesn’t stand any nonsense and he’s good fun, so long as you don’t take advantage. Then, he’s got a tongue like a razor and you go off licking your wounds with your tail between your legs.

I’ve joined the Kite Club again and Bird Watching and this year I can concentrate on Cross Country for sports. Dr Jack agreed with the Commodore and I have to go to for exercises every day for my shoulder and mustn’t play rugger again.

Another change is that we have lessons on Saturday mornings as well as during the week. They used to do it that way before the war and now it’s over, they’re doing it again. I don’t mind. It’s only two lessons of forty five minutes each anyway.

*

Dear Reg,

Thank you for framing the sketch. I looks really good on my night stand and I look at it when I go to sleep each night. When David heard the details of the holiday, he was green with envy. He had a fairly boring time with his friend from school.

It was such a good holiday.

Fair Winds

Sybil x

*
Dear Reg

Thanks for the frame. None of the chaps believed me when I said we had been painted till they saw the sketch. School is just the same, except I’ve gone up a form and the work is harder. The Head had me in to the study to say that Uncle Jem had written to say they must make me work harder and that I should specialise in science. I think that is a bit of a cheek and it should be my Dad saying that if anyone is going to.

Anyway, if I don’t get good marks, I’ll have to have extra lessons instead of sport. I suppose that means I’ll have to make an effort. What a bore.

Don’t forget when you get your own boat, I’m coming every holiday to sail.

Rix

*

Dear Reg

Thank you for framing the sketch. You are clever. It was such a good holiday and I can’t wait to do it again.

Far Winds

Peggy

*

(I’m writing this first bit for the triplets who are trying to all talk at once. They can write perfectly well themselves but they will end up writing screeds and I want to get this in the post tonight)

Dear Reg,

We love the picture. It is hanging on our wall where we can all see it from our beds.

Thank you for making the frame.

Give our love to your Pirate Teacher and the Book Shop Lady.

Love

Len, Con and Margot

(lots of kisses)

And now a bit from me. Everything has settled down here now and, with the triplets and Prim and Daisy back at school, I’ve got a bit more time to catch up with things like letters.

Steven keeps on about ‘Weg’. He really took to you. His latest ‘Can Do’ is to tie his shoelaces. You should see the mess he gets into. He’s much too young of course. I’ve made a big card with some thick string attached for him to practice on in the hope of distracting him. I even had to cut one lace last week to get his shoe off and so now he has odd laces as I didn’t have one to match and you can’t get them for love nor money.

Everyone sends their love and hopes the term is going well. It was such a good holiday that I feel quite able to cope again.

Love

Auntie Jo.

*

Half Term

I hardly saw Joe during the summer but we’re making up for it now. The wind has been just right for kite flying all weekend and we’ve managed to get time each day. I’ve gone up in the morning to help him get his chores done so he can take the afternoon off and we’ve been up on the tops every afternoon. We were sheep dipping at school last week so at least I knew what I was doing! Mr Ormerod was quite impressed.

Auntie and I are going into Leeds tomorrow to get me some new shirts. I seem to have stopped growing upwards but I’m going sideways now. I think it’s all these shoulder exercises. They’re a bore but Doctor Jack said I couldn’t afford a weakness when I’m a doctor. Lot’s of Doctors and nurses get bad backs because of lifting people and I don’t want that. I’ve found out that most boys don’t get their shirts at the place where they sell the official school uniform. They’re only plain white shirts so any will do. We’re going to see if we can get them cheaper somewhere else. I’ve persuaded Auntie my blazer will do another term. It’s not really too tight and they don’t insist on us buttoning them up.

I’m hoping to get into Hatcherds again. I don’t expect Miss Hatcherd will be there now she’s teaching but I do want to look for some books. It sounds a bit silly but I want a new copy of Swallows and Amazons so I can keep the one my Dad gave me forever and have one I don’t mind lending out and reading. I’m going to leave my Dad’s copy here from now on. I’ve not been spending my pocket money this term because I want to get Auntie a really nice present for Christmas. The trouble is, I just don’t know what to get her.

I’ve told Joe all about the holidays and shown him the cormorant pennant that Sybil made. I do wish he could come on a holiday with me but he doesn’t seem to mind at all and he doesn’t even want to read Swallows and Amazons. He’s keen on the birds though and is saving up to get his own binoculars. I know he’s happy here but I wish he had the chance to at least try something new.

*
End of Term December 1945

This year I was fifteen. It seems really old somehow and yet I don’t feel any different. Then I see some of the Lower Fourth boys and I think they seem so little and I realise I’m so much older.

We had a rugger match against Ampleforth last week and they (that is the two schools) decided to have a Cross Country race as well. We were going to go over there in a coach and there were so many people wanted to go that they had to get two coaches in the end. They seem to take their sport much more seriously than we do and, at first, it was a bit scary. Even at Polgarth, I can’t see why they do all this preparation and deep breathing and so on before they start to run. It’s only running after all.

Anyway, I didn’t let it get to me. Mainly because we were allowed to have one friend on the coach with the teams and Hanson came with me. He was so calm that he kept me calm as well. He made a game of it and pretended he was my coach and did silly things like rubbing my legs and making jokes so when I started to run, I was relaxed and enjoyed it like I usually do. I passed first one chap and then another and it was great. When they announced the results, I had come first in Juniors, that is the under sixteens, and even beaten some of the Seniors. I do love running.

We’ve all done well again this term, though the boys who stayed back a year have not done so badly either. There’s less of a gap in marks than we’ve ever had in our Form before.

They’ve already done this year once so they had a head start. They’re not a bad crowd, though a bit slow on the uptake. At first a couple of them were a bit snooty, especially towards Hanson, but we soon showed them. Hanson is pretty good at standing up for himself anyway but when Brooks pushed past Hanson, calling him a ‘little girl’ because of his curls, MacDonald grabbed him by the arm and said “Ladies first then. You’re not much of gentleman.”

Then he bowed to Hanson who curtseyed and they turned it into a joke. All the boys around laughed and Brooks went all red and felt a fool.

I’ve done really well in Maths and Chemistry. I love biology and we’ve started human biology now. It’s amazing how like all the other animals we are. We’ve been studying evolution, too. I can see why some people find it difficult to believe in it but you’ve only got to look inside animals to see how we are all the same.

We’re staying at home for Christmas, just Auntie and me. Auntie says Mrs Hart is getting in a flap again about things and everyone is hoping she clears off for Christmas. Auntie reckons Mr Hart hopes so as well. He really enjoyed Christmas dinner with us last year.

After some argument, Auntie has agreed I can make my own way home this holiday. After all, I got home from Manchester in the summer and even went across Manchester on the tram. That means I can stop and get her present in Leeds. I really didn’t know what to get her but one of her precious tea cups has a little chip in it and I wondered if they still made them. I asked Mr Douglas because he knows an awful lot about all sorts of things and he asked Miss Hatcherd. Peggy was right and they are engaged. There is rumour that they will get married next summer.

She came up to Kite Club the very next Saturday to see me and I described them to her. She knew exactly what I meant because her Aunt has the same set and she (that is her Aunt) said that Lewis’s sell them and you can buy just one cup if you want to. So that is what I will get her. I can go to the book shop as well because it is nearby.

Last edited by patmac on Wed Apr 26, 2006 6:19 am; edited 6 times in total

 

#2:  Author: patmac, Location: Yorkshire England PostPosted: Tue Apr 04, 2006 7:22 pm

The day after Boxing Day, we set off on the train to Scarborough. We had booked two rooms at a Guest House on the cliffs above the North Bay. It was an idyllic three days away from everything. There seemed to be no other visitors and we had the beach and promenade to ourselves most of the time.

We went for an early walk along the North Bay on our first morning, before it was light. The sea was unruffled by so much as a breeze and, apart from the gentle whisper of small waves lapping on the beach, there was silence as the world held it’s breath, in awe at the miracle of a new day. The sky slowly but surely lightened to a pale azure towards the South East and the stars gradually winked out, leaving just one brilliant point of light which was Venus, defying the dawn.

There was a shimmering glow along the horizon and we watched, spellbound, as the sun appeared, sending a golden flash into the sky. Venus faded away and as the huge globe rose, there appeared a golden path across the sea, ending at our feet as we stood at the water’s edge.

As we shaded our eyes, gulls appeared from nowhere, swirling and diving in a celebration of the dawn, their raucous calls sounding triumphant. I hope and pray I will never forget that morning.

The two days were restful and quiet. Very few places to eat were open but we found a small café near the harbour on the South Bay and ate fresh fish there among fishermen, tough and weatherworn, laughing and joking. The fishing cobles were working again and we went onto the harbour to watch them return with their catch. It may sound boring, but just being together in a beautiful place was enough to make us content.

I do enjoy teaching and we are a happy little crowd at the Lodge but I think I had forgotten how tiring it is to be with other people all the time. I remember when I first went to the Chalet School I found it hard not to have time to myself. I suppose some of it is because everything is new and I’m trying so hard to make a good job of it, just like I did at school really.

Hugh seemed to know just when to talk and when not to. It’s lovely that we could wander along the beach, separately, yet together. I picked up shells along the high tide line. My excuse was that they were for Mary for her craft lessons. Some of the boys are decorating old cracked saucers and plates with shells and she has put out a general call for anyone to bring in shells when they can. Really, it was just reverting to my childhood when I used to collect bags of them.

Hugh generally walked along nearer the edge of the water, mainly gazing out to sea and watching the waves as they came pounding in with their unchanging, hypnotic rhythm. Every now and then, one of us would stroll across to the other and exchange a kiss or a hug. There was no need to fill the silences with chatter.

*

When we got home, Mum set us to sorting out the spare room for Hilary. Hugh had used it over Christmas but he was going to sleep on a camp bed in the sitting room while Hilary was staying. She was coming a couple of days before New Year, which was a Monday and going back to the school on the second of January.

Hugh suggested that I should take her into Leeds on the Saturday and he would come down and meet us for tea. He knew I was nervous about seeing her for the first time after her fiancé died and that I was a little worried that seeing us together would upset her. He thought that if she was going to open up, it would be when she and I were alone together.

We met her from the train and, apart from looking a little more serious than she had before, she seemed to be coping well. On the Saturday, we went into Leeds and looked round the shops and talked about the wedding over lunch. We decided not to wear long gowns as she had a suitable day length dress to wear as Maid of Honour and I wouldn’t have to find so much material to make a dress for me. I was quite happy about that really as I do tend to take long strides and the idea of tripping over a long gown on the way down the aisle at the School Chapel had been a recurring nightmare.

She didn’t say a lot about her loss. She’s so strong. There is something different about her though. I can’t quite put it into words but there’s a sort of maturity about her. She’s thrown herself back into teaching and I’m sure Miss Annersley and Bill have a close eye on her.

On the Sunday, Aunt Gertrude had asked us over to tea and it was the usual mad affair. We had not seen her over Christmas as she had had a guest staying who needed to be kept quiet as he had been ill.

Hilary, as I expected, took to her straight away. Of course, we all had to go down the garden to check that the killer rose had not recovered from it’s butchery and Hilary laughed herself silly at the story. Hugh had promised to put some new shelves up in the pantry and soon Hilary was standing in the doorway pretending to be the foreman and giving him constantly conflicting instructions. I sometimes wish I could be so quick with a funny reply as Hugh. I always think of something funny afterwards which is no use at all. Once Aunt Gertrude joined in, I just sat on a chair and laughed till tears were streaming down my face.

In the end, Hugh chased us out of the kitchen and Aunt and I showed Hilary round the house while he got on in peace. We ended up sitting on Aunt’s bed and telling her what we had decided about the wedding. We told her about the dresses and she suddenly got up and went to an old oak chest, coming back with a tissue wrapped package. The smell of lavender wafted from it as she folded back the tissue paper and inside was a length of white silk.

She looked at me anxiously. “I think there is enough to make a day length dress.”[/] She said. [I]“I didn’t offer it before because I knew there wasn’t enough for a full length gown.”

We exclaimed over the beautiful material and she rummaged in the chest again, bringing over a small but exquisite piece of lace. “I bought it in Italy years ago, just because I liked it.” She made a face. “I must have been mad because I’m not really a lacy sort of person but I just couldn’t resist it.” Of course, we both hugged her and she flushed up and I think we were all a little teary.

We wrapped up the silk and lace and took it downstairs ready to carry home. Now all I needed was someone who could make the dress. I can sew quite well but I didn’t feel I dared even take scissors to this precious material.

When we got down stairs, Hugh was sitting at the kitchen table reading the newspaper. The shelves were exclaimed over and then we all had tea. When we had finished, Hugh and I washed up while Aunt and Hilary went through into the Drawing Room. When we joined them, they were chatting like old friends. I do like it when the people I love get on well.

Presently, Hilary excused herself and went upstairs and, when she returned, she was beaming.

“Dorothy. How would you like Mlle Berne to make your dress.”

I gaped at her and she grinned like the schoolgirl I remembered at my astonishment.

“I just phoned Jo where Mlle is staying for New Year and she is thrilled at the idea. If we can find a pattern you like, she’s told me what measurements to take and Jo has invited you and Hugh to come down at Easter to stay for a few days so you can have your fittings then. I could show you round the school as well and you could meet some of the staff. You know what Jo is like. She’s ready to kill the fatted calf with joy at seeing you again.”

She looked solemn for a moment.

“Do say you will. It means a lot to Jo to find one of the old girls who was in Tyrol. We’ve lost touch with so many.”

I looked at Hugh who was nodding frantically and agreed.

We called in at Lewis’s as we took Hilary down to the station and I found a beautiful pattern. It had little cap sleeves and a lovely neckline, quite low but with the lace insert it would look really pretty. Hilary went back to school and we stayed another day with Mum and Dad and then returned to Polgarth to prepare for the Spring Term.

I was the first to arrive back at the Lodge and, after I had unpacked, I walked up to the school to let John know I was about. He was in the kitchen, talking to a tall, gaunt man with receding grey hair, who was peeling vegetables with a teacloth tucked into this trousers in lieu of an apron. John introduced him as Sir Julian Roper.

Hugh had told me about him and how he been the instigator of the changes at the school, including bringing in women teachers and I liked him on first sight. I hadn’t expected to find a Governor peeling vegetables, however, and my surprise must have showed on my face for he grinned like one of the boys caught sucking a gobstopper in class.

“You won’t give me away, will you? I love cooking and haven’t had a chance to indulge myself for years.”

He looked so comical that I laughed and promised him his secret was safe with me. Then I suddenly realised that Aunt Gertrude knew him and had phoned him to check up on Hugh when we first started going out together. I wasn’t quite sure whether to mention that but I needn’t have worried. He tipped the vegetables into a large pan from which a delicious smell of meat was coming and came to sit at the table, wiping his hands on the tea towel.

“I stayed with your Aunt for Christmas. Did she tell you?”

“No. At least, we knew she had a visitor but she didn’t mention a name.”

I looked at him more closely, remembering that Aunt Gertrude’s visitor had been ill. As I hadn’t met him before, I hadn’t realised that his gauntness was not his normal appearance.

“She’s mentioned your name before. She checked up on Hugh when we first started going out, didn’t she.”

“A very discreet woman, your aunt. Very clever too, despite the crazy things she gets up to. I’m afraid she did ask about Hugh.. She thinks the world of you, you know.”

“I know. Luckily she and Hugh have hit if off well. He can be as crazy as she can.”

We had a cup of tea together and then left Sir Julian to his cooking. John wanted to go through some details of the timetable with me. I’ve no idea how he manages to keep it all straight. It’s as much as I can do to remember where I’m supposed to be next.

I mentioned my surprise at seeing Sir Julian here and he looked serious for a minute.

“From the way you looked at him, I suppose you realised he has been ill?”

“I just put two and two together. Aunt Gertrude just said she was looking after a friend who had been ill and needed peace and quiet. I didn’t realise it was him.”

“It’s more exhaustion than anything. I don’t think he had more than a day or so off all the way through the war. He needs time to stand back and get things into perspective again.”

I remembered what Hugh had said about his fears for the future and a stand off between America and Russia with, eventually, atom bombs on both sides.

“He must be so disappointed that things aren’t going better now it’s over.”

John nodded. “Exactly.”

We turned our attention to the timetable and forgot the outside world for a while as we dealt with the new term. We would be missing one boy as Canning had gone into hospital for an operation to lengthen his leg. He would miss about a year at school and John was keen he should be helped as much as possible. He explained that the big Sanatorium had a school for the patients and had been in touch to ask for guidance and for a set of text books and a lesson plan. Nobody expected him to keep up with everything but they could help with at least the basics.

When John mentioned Doctor Maynard, I immediately realised that this was Jo’s husband. “Hugh and I are going to stay with them at Easter. We could visit Canning.”

“I can’t believe it. Do you and Hugh know everyone. We had that American Airman a while back looking for Hugh. Then I discover that your Aunt is Sir Julian’s best friend. Now you know the Maynards! Not to mention that you seem to know the same people as young Entwistle.” he exclaimed.

“Oh, it’s not just me! Stacie knows the Maynards as well. We were both at school with Jo Maynard.”

John asked if I had any ideas of how we could best structure help for the Sanatorium School. I gave it some thought and came back a few days later with an idea. It would mean quite a bit of work but it would keep him in touch.

I had helped with an Extension Guide Company while I was at College. The girls were all invalids living in their own homes so couldn’t join a local company. We sent out a large scrapbook which contained a ‘Meeting’ each month. I suggested we do the same thing on a smaller scale. He would have little tests on his comprehension and essay writing and a section which linked to his history lessons and also Geography. I wasn’t quite sure how we could cope with maths but we would have to see what the Sanatorium said. We could send a set of text books down each term for him to work from.

His friends could send him letters and accounts of things which had happened as well and the staff at the Sanatorium could use what we sent to structure his work and help him. I suppose I should have realised that, having made the suggestion, the bulk of the work would fall to me. I didn’t mind though. He was such a plucky lad that I was sure everyone would do their bit.

The weather closed in after the boys got back and we were at our wits end to keep them amused. They were used to being outside whenever possible and, although we got them all out for a short period most days, it really was too cold to have them out for long and the snow was too deep to take them far. We tramped up and down to the lodge in boots each day and took to wearing britches for the walk. We all set to each morning with shovels or we shouldn’t have been able to get down the garden path.
Word trickled in that there were desperate shortages in the towns. Throughout the war, the American Government, under President Roosevelt's prodding, had voted to send Britain millions of tons of food and billions of dollars in loans to finance the making of weapons.
The day after the Japanese surrendered in August, 1945, and the whole Second World War was over, President Truman suspended all of this so-called Lend-Lease aid. So Britain, already bankrupted of its own resources, was now deprived of the American helping hand. We were lucky in having the farm and also that Matron and Mrs Newby were both of the school of thought that took satisfaction from a full store cupboard.
Soon, there was not enough soap to carry on the usual clothes washing schedule and the boys wore one shirt a whole week and daily baths became a dim memory. The boys didn’t care but it was a trial to the adults to have to wear our clothes for longer. We took to hanging our blouses out on the washing line in the freezing air to freshen them before wearing them again. The bread ration was reduced and there were shortages of almost everything.
We were lucky in having wood burning stoves and being surrounded by woods, so escaped the problems of those who could not get coal but the electricity became uncertain and we had to have candles ready to light when the power went off. It was worse than the war time and left my generation with a mistrust of the certainty of supplies of any sort. I still can’t abide waste.

*




I arrived home for Christmas well and truly laden with my case, a shopping bag I had borrowed from Matron and a pack slung across my shoulders with two new kites. We had been trying out new designs from a book . We’d all been moaning about the difficulties of getting them home, particularly once we started on box kites. Mr Jeffreys had come up with a nifty idea and we had holes drilled though the joints instead of brazing them and fixed them with little screws and nuts. He had to end up opening up the Engineering Shop on Saturdays and running lessons for a whole lot of us. He didn’t seem to mind, though and came up to the kite flying with the rest of us quite often.

One weekend he had a friend to stay who was designing real aeroplanes and he joined in as well. MacDonald was most impressed and is now swithering about whether to go in the Navy or to try and get in on designing aeroplanes. There’s a new college opening this year that he could try for. We’re even talking about doing a display of kite flying for Sports Day next Summer.

Anyway, I had made two box kites during the term and one was for Joe for a Christmas present. I went into Lewis’s and found a cup for Auntie and they were really nice in there and put it in a little box for me. I had also gone up to Hatcherd’s as there wasn’t time at half term and there was a man with one arm in the shop. I expect he lost the other one in the war. I got a copy of Swallows and Amazons so I can keep the one Dad gave me and not spoil it.

Auntie was waiting in Garnley as I expected. It was lovely to see her even though she still thinks I am a little boy, although I am fifteen now and can manage quite well. As usual, she exclaimed over how much I had grown. I don’t think I had this term as my trousers still seem long enough. I wondered if she had shrunk. Perhaps people do as they get older. We went home on the bus and everything was just the same. I’d hate it if she changed anything.

Christmas was just the same as well. We decorated the tree just as we always did and I listened to the stories of the decorations as if I had not heard them before. Each year Auntie tells me a little bit more.

We went to the Midnight Service and walked home with a lantern, just like we had done the year I first came home to Garnham. It seemed so strange with no blackout and it was quite pretty to see the lanterns bobbing down the hill. Auntie was thrilled with the cup and it does match exactly. She had made me a proper tool kit out of hessian with pockets for the tools to keep them safe. It rolls up and ties with tape. There were two chisels in it to start me off. It’s just like carpenters have and I was really pleased.

The Maynards and their friends all clubbed together to buy me some books, which is always nice and Mrs Jo had copies done of all the snaps from the Summer Holidays and put them in an Album for me. She made it herself and the triplets painted the cover. Auntie and I laughed at the snaps. There was one of Auntie paddling which she didn’t realise had been taken and another of her with a daisy chain the triplets had made on her head. They were all clustered round her looking so pleased with themselves.

It is nice to have pictures to remind us of the holiday, not that either of us will forget it.

We had Mr Hart and Miss Armitage to Christmas dinner, like last year. Mrs Hart had gone to her sister’s again as Auntie thought she might.

When I think about the Vicar and his wife, it puts me right off getting married when I grow up. I remembered what Sybil had said in the summer about Doctors being too busy for their children and that puts me off as well. Then I think of Mrs Jo and Doctor Jack. When Doctor Jack came back in the summer, she was excited and so were the triplets. If I ever get married, it will be like that. Anyway, that’s a long way off and I might not. I think I’d rather have a boat. I can always send my shirts out to be washed and ironed.

Joe and I spent two afternoons flying the new kites. The moors at home are different and better than the field where we fly them at Polgarth. There are no trees up on the moor so you can let them go really high without worrying that a gust will bring them down in the branches.

It was a good holiday and seemed to go by really fast. Auntie insisted on coming to Leeds with me again to meet the train. She said she was going to do some shopping in Leeds but I think that was just an excuse.

The others were on the train, apart from MacDonald who was, of course, coming down from Scotland. Everybody seemed to have had a spiffing Christmas and we’d all noticed how different it was without the blackout. Dixon said that he could see Plymouth all lit up from his bedroom window and even see the ships way out at sea.

The weather turned bad and snowy after we got back and it was bitterly cold. We got out for a little while each day, except when it was actually snowing and had a rota to keep the paths clear. We had a lot of fun with snowball fights and there was an absolute regiment of snowmen on the lawn in front of the house.

At least we had plenty to eat. We read in the newspapers that the towns were short of all sorts of things, like butter and coal. We got to talking about this in Civic Studies, which was a lesson supposed to give us some idea of what was going on in the world. Mr Douglas explained how the Americans had stopped helping us once the war was over and we had spent so much money on the war that we couldn’t afford to keep what we made for ourselves. We needed to export everything we could so we could pay back the Americans what they had lent us and build houses and factories which had been bombed.

A lot of people were cross about it. After all, we were supposed to have won the war. I thought of Dutch and wondered what he was doing and if he knew what was going on in England.

*



John spent as much time as he could with Julian. It wasn’t easy once term began and, although the Governor was well liked by the staff, he was nonetheless a Governor and had no real place in the day to day running of the school. He was eating better and losing the haunted look in his eyes which had worried John when he first arrived. For the moment, though. he seemed to have lost his zest for life.

Julian was aware of the problem and knew he had to make some decisions about his future soon. He had not formally resigned his position in London and packages of papers arrived for him to read and answer on a regular basis. He dutifully dealt with them but he knew deep down that his heart was not in it. Although at forty five, he was a comparatively young man, the last few years had undermined his health to the point that he would need more than a few weeks in the country to restore him to the point where he could decide on his future.

There came a break in the snow and he asked John to go with him for a tramp up on the hills to get some fresh air and exercise and they set off up the hill, well wrapped up against the biting wind. It was hard going and Julian was not fit so they tramped on in silence for a while till they came to a point where they dropped into a valley and gained some protection from the biting east wind. John produced a flask of tea and they stood, leaning against a rock to drink it.

“I ought to be moving on soon.” Julian remarked. “I feel I’m overstaying my welcome.”

“You know you are always welcome but I do think you are going to need a while to get to the point where you can think of the future and just lodging at the school is not the place to do it. Will you go back to London?”

Julian shook his head. “I don’t think so. I’ve been playing the diplomacy game for nearly twenty years now. I’ve no stomach for it any more. The trouble is, I’ve never been really interested in anything but politics, thanks to you.”

John gave a rueful laugh. “As I remember it, I tried to interest you in lots of things before you latched onto that.”

They finished their tea and moved on again, climbing the other side of the valley and coming out onto the limestone pavement which dominated the skyline from the school. They stood for a few minutes, shading their eyes against the glare of the sun on the snow and saw the valley laid out before them.

“My heart always gives a little leap when I see that view.” Remarked Julian. “I’ve been to so many places but this is the only place that feels like home.”

“Well, they say home is where the heart is. Why don’t you take a house nearby for a while. You’ll be good for nothing until you are physically fit anyway. You used to walk up to the top without puffing and you certainly can’t now. I’d enjoy having an old friend in the area to chew the fat with. It’s not as if you need to work for a living and the right thing will turn up if you are patient. You’ve forgotten, I think, what we talked of last year, working from the bottom up with ordinary people rather than just seeing the big picture.

You’ve studied enough history to know that the real changes come from places like this. It doesn’t matter who the invaders are, sooner or later they intermarry, pick up local customs and are assimilated. This is the heart and strength of the country.

None of us can shut Pandora’s box. The atom bomb is here to stay and all we can do is help people be strong enough to face the future and guide the young so they can make a difference later. When it comes down to it, war is a personal experience. Each person grieving now has forebears who grieved just as much hundreds of years ago. I know more have died in this century but don’t forget the population was less years ago.”

“I had such hopes.” Julian sounded sad.

“I know. We all did.”

“Let’s go back down. I’ll think about what you suggested.”

*

Julian determined to get fit. With a sudden spark of his old enthusiasm for life, he could be seen tramping off through the snow every time the weather lifted. He returned from each walk with something new learned.

Sometimes it was just the peace of the valley which spoke to him, sometimes the strong determination of a farmer, out checking his sheep and accepting the weather as just another fact of life.

Once he met Miss Collins, who fell into step beside him and told him to call her Mary. When they reached the frozen river, she brushed the snow off an old log and sat down, patting the space beside her.

“I love this spot.” She said, gazing at the trees, their bare branches hanging with icicles and traced with snow. “ I’ve sat here through all the seasons now since I came here and every time I come it is different and yet the same. Everything looks so dead now but I can remember when the trees started budding last year and look forward to it again. Meanwhile I can enjoy this particular beauty.”

He looked round and saw, for the first time since he had arrived, that there was a beauty in the frozen landscape. She pulled a paper bag out of her pocket and threw some breadcrumbs out onto the river bank.

“If we sit quietly, the birds will come for it. They are so hungry, poor things.”

They sat is companionable silence for a few minutes and, as she had predicted, the birds began to arrive. Soon they were watching blackbirds, thrushes and sparrows, soon a robin joined them and Julian watched with delight as they feasted on the bread.

After a little while, there was a concerted fluttering of wings and the small birds departed in alarm as two seagulls arrived, making short work of the rest of the crumbs. As soon as they were finished, they flew off with their strident calls, leaving Mary and Julian alone again.

Mary stood up. “We’d better move on or we’ll get cold. I usually walk along to the lane and back up that way.”

They set off and Julian expressed disappointment that the seagulls had scared the local birds away.

“Why?” said Mary. “They’ve as much right to live as the rest. It’s cold here but imagine how cold it is on the East Coast. I don’t like the idea of a seaside without gulls. There’s room for them all.”

He had no answer but stored the thought away to think of later.

*

Another day, he walked up towards Polgarth House and climbed the hill to where he remembered an old fallen tree lay at the top of the hill. In his younger days, this had been his haven when he needed to think.

Too late, he realised that someone was there before him. Rather than change direction, he decided to walk straight past and cut round towards Home Farm. Then he saw that the occupant of the perch was a boy and, curious as to why he should be out here alone, stopped to speak.

The boy stood up as he approached and smiled at him. “Good afternoon Sir.” He said, politely.

“May I join you for a minute to get my breath back?”

For a moment, he thought he saw a flash of surprise on the boy’s face at the thought of needing to get his breath back and then he moved along and made room for his new companion.

“What are you doing up here all alone?” He asked.

The boy flushed. “With all this snow, I can’t go running and I just need to get away sometimes. It’s alright though. Mr Douglas knows I come up here. I’m not skiving off or anything.”

Julian glanced at the lad with interest and then quickly looked away to the view. “I used to do the same when I was at Polgarth. I was happy here but sometimes ….”

It was the boy’s turn to steal a quick glance at the man beside him.

“I’ve heard other grownups say that. Does everyone feel like that?”

Julian considered the question for a moment. “I don’t know. It doesn’t happen as much though when you're older. You learn to deal with it, I suppose, but sometimes I still need time alone.”

“I’ve got a friend who is learning to be a shepherd.” The boy said, pensively. “His dream is to live alone up on the moors. Sometimes I wonder if he’s got the right idea.”

“Would you really want that, all the time?”

“Not really. Most of the time, I enjoy being with the others. Just so long as I can get away sometimes.”

“Just make sure you have your quiet times when you need them. You’ll be stronger for it.”

The sound of young voices shouting and laughing came from below them and Julian stood up hastily. “You’ll not be alone for long by the sound of it. That’s a young herd of elephants coming up the hill.”

The boy grinned. “It’s all right. It’s just my friends. I came ahead to get a few minutes on my own. I’m OK now.”

“What’s your name?” asked Julian, curiously.

“I’m Entwistle, Sir. I know who you are, though I don’t remember your name. You’re one of the Governors.”

“No today.” Responded Julian. “Today, I’m just me and skiving off as you call it.”

Entwistle laughed. “I won’t tell anyone, Sir.”

As the noise grew nearer, Julian winked at the boy and set off again, leaving him to enjoy the last few minutes alone.

The next day, he sought John out in his study. “I’m going to look for a house locally. I only need a cottage really, though I’d rather it stood away from others. Then I’ll go back to London and clear up all the loose ends and pack what I need to rusticate for a while.

I’m not looking forward to breaking it to Miss Barbour. She’s been with me through thick and thin over the last few years. I really don’t want to leave her high and dry without a job.

Who knows, I might even write my memoirs. They’d be un-publishable of course but it might exorcise a few ghosts.”

John thought for a moment. “She was an interpreter for you?”

Julian nodded.

“I don’t think she’ll have problems getting a job then but perhaps we could tide her over. Could she help teach French and German? Dorothy is pushed to the limit, Ed is having problems keeping up as well up at Polgarth and Stacie will go back to Oxford before long.”

“I could ask her.” Julian said doubtfully. “She doesn’t have a degree or Teaching Certificate, though.”

John tapped the side of his nose. “Is this really the man who told me ‘To hell with precedence’ last year.”

“Not really. It’s only his shadow. If you can use her and she’s willing, I’ll offer it. It could give her a chance to look for something else anyway. Who knows, she might even help me with my memoirs. She was there every inch of the way.”

After Julian had left, John sat and thought for a while. He could see the difference in Julian but he felt there was still something missing. Perhaps it was just the physical exhaustion but something more was needed to bring Julian back to his normal self. He shelved the problem for the moment. Time would bring the answer.

 

#3:  Author: patmac, Location: Yorkshire England PostPosted: Tue Apr 04, 2006 7:24 pm

Hugh was awed by the ferocious weather. There had been snow the previous winter when John had been caught out in it but not like this. The drifts on the East side of the field walls were three feet high and still it fell. The boys were restless and the talk in the staff room was all of how to keep them occupied and give an opportunity for them to let off steam. After ten days of this, Eric decided that, whenever the snow stopped, the boys should go outside. It played havoc with the timetable and some evenings there were lessons for the older boys after Supper to try and keep up. No one minded. It was worth it to have their attention,

Eventually, the thaw set in and, when it came, it came with a rush. There was one minor incident when a large expanse of snow slipped off the roof and nearly caught a group of boys who were coming round the side of the house but the main problem was supplies.

Throughout the snow, supplies had arrived, pulled on carts by tractors or horses but now the river had burst it’s banks and the road was flooded for some distance each side of the bridge and there was no way to get to or from the village. The kitchens carried a good stock of staples and fresh produce was still coming from the farm but, having made bread for the whole school for ten days, the cooks were getting worried about a lack of flour. Tea became baked potatoes with cheese instead of the customary sandwiches and cakes and biscuits disappeared from the menu. Each day, someone went down to check if the water was receding and came back with the news that the road was still impassable.

“I feel like Noah.” Hugh remarked to Edward Anderson, the Deputy Head who had walked down with him one day. They reached the point where they could see the bridge and gave a whoop of excitement, quite unbefitting to their status and ran down to the water’s edge. The water was definitely receding.

“We ought to take an olive branch back with us.” Quipped Edward. “If it keeps going down, we may get some supplies in a couple of days.”

Two days later, they heard the unmistakeable sound of a tractor heading up the drive and soon a mountain of staples was being unloaded, including an enormous supply of bread from Thompsons. The first post for a week was distributed and the cooks made busy baking with the new supply of flour. There were cheers at tea time when sandwiches and cakes were served and, with communications restored, things slipped back into their normal rhythm.

He hadn’t seen much of Dorothy while the bad weather lasted. They met normally when he went down to Chaucer House two days a week to take lessons there and it had become established that they would meet for a walk when they were neither on duty, which happened only a couple of times a week. For over two weeks now he had not been able to get down to the Junior School and he had missed her more than he thought possible.

After talking to the Thompsons at the bakery and the Misses Snaith and Gregory, they had realised that it might be difficult to find a suitable cottage near enough the school to walk in and out each day. They really wanted to rent, rather than buy as both were reluctant to take on a mortgage at this stage. They would need a bigger house when children came along, but for now a small cottage would be sufficient for their needs and they could save while they were both working to make things easier later.

In any case, all the cottages for sale would need a lot of work done on them which, even if the materials could be obtained, would cost of money and reduce the amount the Building Society would lend. They could extend the distance by buying bicycles and that would be their next option but Hugh would have preferred not to have Dorothy travelling far on dark mornings or evenings.

They had both volunteered to do half term duty rather than return to Leeds and planned to spend their time off during that period, exploring farther and making enquiries. It seemed a little early as they would not be getting married till the end of July but they were both eager to spend some time before then painting and making all ready to move in.

He walked down by the lane as the paths were still muddy, eager to meet her as they both had a couple of hours free. To his surprise, he saw Dorothy standing at the entrance to the drive, talking to Sir Julian beside a strange car instead of his customary Bentley. Dorothy had told him that Sir Julian had been Aunt Gertrude’s mystery guest over Christmas. The last he had heard he had left again for London so he was surprised to see him here again so soon.

They turned as he came through the gates and Dorothy’s eyes lit up to see him. With a quick word to the older man, she ran to meet Hugh and hugged him. “I’m so pleased to see you. It’s been awful being apart for two weeks.” For a few moments, they forgot Sir Julian and the whole world.

Suddenly remembering they had an audience, they turned and saw Sir Julian had discretely turned his back and was gazing patiently up the drive. With a little giggle, Dorothy towed Hugh up to him and tapped him on the shoulder.

“It’s safe to turn round now. The first raptures are over.”

Sir Julian turned with a smile and greeted Hugh. “I gather you’ve been separated for a couple of weeks so I think a few raptures are in order. Congratulations on your engagement. I hear the wedding is in July and I wish you much happiness. You’re looking for a cottage to rent, I hear?”

“And not having much luck, I’m afraid. We’re going to look farther afield at half term. If we get bicycles we could go farther out.”

“H’mm. When are you next both free?”

“Tomorrow, as it happens. We’ve both got the day off.”

“I’d like to have a chat with you both. If I commandeer John’s study for an hour at two o’clock, could you meet me there?”

They exchanged glances and then Dorothy answered for them both. “Yes. The trouble is you sound just like Aunt Gertrude at her worst.”

Sir Julian grinned at them. “Well, let’s say I learnt from a Master – or should that be a Mistress. I’ve been taking lessons for years from her.”

The next morning, Hugh set off again down the lane to meet Dorothy at the Lodge. For once, all the other women were up at the school. They’d all been very thoughtful and disappeared to their own rooms for a while when Hugh visited Dorothy but it was a little embarrassing. They were both anxious to know knew why Sir Julian had returned and, more importantly, what he intended to spring on them in the afternoon.

“Haven’t you got a clue?” Hugh asked Dorothy. “I can’t imagine anything he’d want to meet us about.”

She shrugged. “You know as much as I do. I do know John has been worried about him. He said it was probably just exhaustion after the last few years but if it was just that, he would surely have recovered by now.”

“I suppose we’ll just have to wait and see. As for what is wrong with him, I’ve got a theory on that. I think he’s too much of an idealist to be happy with how the war has ended with so much tension. He may be feeling his efforts have all been in vain.”

“Well, he did sound like Aunt Gertrude at her worst, or best depending on how you look at it so we’d best be prepared for a surprise. Oh, I’ve had such a nice letter from Jo Bettany – oops! I mean Maynard. Here, read it for yourself, while I prepare lunch.”

She pulled the letter from her pocket and handed it to Hugh. He smoothed the sheets and started to read.

Dear Dorothy,

What fun to be in touch again. Hilary told me last year that she had been to stay with you but it went right out of my head or I would have demanded your address and written earlier.

In totally inadequate defence, it has been a hectic year. Charles, our youngest was very ill early in the year and I think everything went out of my mind. I still should have got round to it though and I’m so sorry I didn’t, especially as I gather you met our ‘fleet’ in the summer and I missed you then.

I’m still amazed at how coincidence works. Jack has met Hugh. Reg knows both of you and us. Hilary knows all of us, of course. You’ll also have heard that we have one of your boys, young Jimmie Canning in the San. Now I hear you are teaching with Stacie which is a great surprise and you can let me know all her hanes! You’ve even met my triplets as well as some of their cousins. If I put it in a book, the editors would make free with the red pen.

Phoebe, who you don’t know yet, has volunteered to help with the wedding dress. She does exquisite embroidery as Reg can tell you – another coincidence as they are great friends and we would probably not have met him if it hadn’t been for her.

I think the rest will have to wait till Easter as Steve has just come in covered in mud and Anna is out this afternoon visiting a friend. I’m making him stand on the back door mat till I finish this. It won’t hurt him to wait, he keeps us running round rescuing him quite enough!

Till Easter

Love from Jo.

*

Chuckling at the vision of the little boy standing, dripping on the door mat, Hugh walked through to the kitchen, the letter still in his hand.

“How old is Steve? Jo sounds as if he is always in a pickle.”

“I’m not that sure. I know she has two boys and one is around three and the other a bit younger.”

“Here’s hoping it’s the three year old! Are you looking forward to seeing them all again?”

“Yes, I am. I had more or less written off that part of my life in the past few years, there’s been so much to worry about. It’s only in the past year, I’ve really thought about them again and wondered.”

“You’ve been in touch with Hilary, though.”

“Yes, but it has been rather sporadic and she’s not the best of correspondents. The way we left Austria in such a hurry, I expect a lot of the records were either destroyed or lost. I know they took a lot of papers and burnt them the day before we left. It’s quite possible mine were among them.. I certainly didn’t have any home addresses except for Hilary’s. Now, I’m longing to find out about some of the others. I’m a bit scared of finding out some of the news though. We had a lot of girls from the continent and I’m afraid at least some of them must have died in the war.

I still don’t understand why the Nazis were so keen to get rid of us. We were only a school and a san. It’s not as if we were threatening them.”

“You’re forgetting they had the long term view. They wanted control of the hearts and minds of the youngsters. The Chalet School ideals didn’t fit in with their ideas. They also didn’t want word of what was really happening getting back to the authorities in England either. I don’t think they were ready for war with us back in 1938.”

Dorothy placed the sandwiches on the table and poured tea. After they had eaten, they washed up and the conversation turned again to what Sir Julian could possibly want.

“I don’t like a pig in a poke.” Dorothy commented. “Aunt Gertrude springs things on me like that and it always unsettles me.”

“She’s usually right though. There was the engagement ring and lending us her car last summer.”

“Not to mention that material for my wedding dress! I know she’s usually right but I like a moment to think when people jump on me with new ideas.”

“That’s all right. Whatever it is, we can say we will discuss it and get back to him. That can’t offend him.”

Dorothy gave the sink a final wipe and hung the dishcloth neatly over the taps.

“We’d better get off then and find out. I’ll just run up and fetch my coat and hat.”

Soon they were walking up to the school, arm in arm and, wiping their feet carefully on the mat, went through to the staff cloakroom to shed their coats.

“I feel like a school girl again.” Said Dorothy with a wry grin. “Being sent to the study usually meant a telling off.”

Hugh squeezed her arm. “Well you’re not! You’re the future Mrs Douglas.”

They knocked and Sir Julian called them in. He had been sitting in an armchair by the window and came forward to greet them.

“Come and sit down. I’m sorry for not explaining myself yesterday but I’ve a proposition to put to you which I’d like you to consider. The middle of a cold driveway didn’t seem a good idea and the trouble with this place is that there’s nowhere really private except in here.”

They all sat down and Hugh and Dorothy looked expectant.

“I’m going to have to give you a bit of background first. You both know I was ill at Christmas. The Doctor said I’d been overdoing it and had developed an ulcer and I should take time off. The only place I could think to go was to your Aunt’s. To be quite honest, I was almost beyond thinking then and I don’t even remember driving up there.

Then at New Year, I came here to think things through. I‘ve decided to give up my job and move up here for a while, get fit and then decide what to do next. I’ve no family and no home except a flat in London. This place is the nearest I’ve got to a home.

That’s the background. I’ve been looking for a small place round here. Preferably out of the village but not too isolated. I wanted three bedrooms so I can have a study and still have room for guests and I think I’ve found just the right place. There’s one snag, though. There are two cottages and I don’t fancy leaving one empty and I’d have difficulty in getting tenants as it’s some way from the village. Would you be interested in renting one of them?”

Hugh and Dorothy frankly stared. Their imaginations had run riot over the reason for this meeting but this was something they had never thought of.

“Where are they, exactly?” asked Hugh.

“A little bit up the hill from Home Farm. There’s a reasonable track down to Home Farm and they’re about the same distance again as from Home Farm to the School.”

“I think I know where you mean.” Hugh replied. “You follow the lane that goes up to the Hill Farms and there’s a little track off to the right. They’re awfully run down though. Won’t it cost a lot to do them up?”

“Probably, though I know they’re soundly built. One of the staff from the school lived there in my younger days and, from memory, everything was in the standard local style so it shouldn’t be that difficult to get the materials.”

“You’ve not been up to look?” Dorothy sounded surprised.

“No, not yet. I only got back yesterday and I’d more or less written them off till I happened to meet Dorothy as I drove up to the school. Then I thought of you two and that brought them back to mind again.”

There was a silence as Hugh remembered what Dorothy had said about not taking decisions without thinking them through. Then he looked at her and saw her eyes were shining.

“We’d have to see them before we could take any decision.” He said, slowly. “You know we’re getting married at the end of July. If there’s too much work to get done before then, we’d have to think again.”

“I’ve arranged for a Surveyor to meet me there at half past three today. Will you come with me and see what he says? Even if it’s not right for you, I’d like your opinion. You’re not committing yourselves by coming to look.”

“Of course we’ll come.” Dorothy was quick to assure him. “We probably won’t give you an answer straight away though. We’d need to discuss it first.”

They set off in Sir Julian’s new Hillman. “I was surprised to see you without your Bentley but if you are moving up here, I think you’ve made a wise choice.”

“It was a bit of a monster, wasn’t it. This is a lot more suitable.”

Hugh and Sir Julian discussed the relative merits of cars as they drove while Dorothy sat in the back, trying to think through all the issues that needed to be sorted before they could say yes or no.

They turned down the track to the cottages and then saw the two stone built houses. They stood looking solid, semi detached, each with it’s own garden and a separate gate. They climbed out of the car and took in the details. The gardens were overgrown to the point where the paths were hardly visible and one gate was hanging off it’s hinges. The paint was peeling off the doors and window frames and a piece of gutter was hanging down. Ivy and old man’s beard obscured most of the downstairs windows and they looked beyond repair to Dorothy’s eyes. Then she turned and looked round. Two fields down the hill, she could see the roof of Home Farm and, though she could not see the valley, she could see the hills stretching beyond. Turning further, she caught her breath. The afternoon sun caught the high moors and they gleamed white with snow.

Hurrying after the two men, she saw that the garden had once been well tended and, even now, she could see the occasional shrub that might be worth saving. Going round the side of the left house, she saw outhouses and a garden, stretching for a good hundred feet, before ending in a stone wall which would need attention. The men were pointing at various features which needed attention and she joined them to listen.

“The walls are sound.” Hugh was saying. “They’ll need repointing. I’m not sure of the window frames though. The paint has all gone and they may have started to rot.”

“I’d expected to have to replace those. The guttering will need mending as well and the down pipes. What I’m most interested is the roof joists. Everything else is easy enough but to have the roof replaced puts it out of my timescale as well as yours. I’m camping out in the visitor’s room at the moment. Let’s go round the front again. The Surveyor should be here any minute.”

The Surveyor arrived in a van with ladders tied to the roof and a younger man to help him.

They went inside and the Surveyor went through both cottages, poking at wood with a screwdriver, checking for damp and climbing into the roof space to check the joists. He went down into the cellars with a flashlight and then went outside to look at the walls and roof. His younger colleague was sent up the ladder to check the guttering.

He found the well, sent the bucket down and put a sample into a glass bottle. He even went to check all the boundaries, comparing them with a plan of the property to check all was correct.

When he had finished, he promised a full report and costing in two days and declared the buildings to be sound. His main concerns were the lack of plumbing and sanitation. So long as the well proved satisfactory, which could not be decided till the water had been tested and a specialist had climbed down and checked it, he could see no problems, apart from what he called minor work in repairing floorboards, window frames, doors, guttering, installing septic tanks and a pump for the well, building ground floor bathrooms on to the back, pointing and re-plastering. He took it for granted that they would not expect electricity this far away from the village. Dorothy’s heart sank. The minute she had seen the view and the size of the garden, she wanted this as her home as she had wanted little else in her life. This looked like a major job to her. Sir Julian seemed unperturbed.

“How soon can you get someone out to look at the well?”

“I might be able to arrange it for tomorrow. Certainly the next day.”

“The sooner the better. If I go ahead, we have to have them both habitable before July.”

They all shook hands and the surveyor drove off.

“Let’s not discuss it now. If the well has a problem then they’re impossible anyway.” With these words, Sir Julian climbed into the car.

Dorothy touched Hugh’s arm and pointed towards the high moors. She saw on his face the satisfaction she felt and they climbed in without comment.

Dropping them at the lodge, Sir Julian drove up the drive.

“What do you think?” asked Hugh.

“If the well is all right and he can really get it done in the time, it’d be perfect. The only real snags I can think of are how much the rent would be and what happens when he moves on.”

“You think he will?”

“He’s bound to. I really can’t see someone like him rusticating forever.”

“Let’s wait till we see about the well, anyway. We can’t decide anything till then.”

Dorothy sighed. “I could live forever with that view.”

They went into the Lodge and greeted Mary, Anne and Stacie who were off duty this evening and spent a pleasant hour with them before Hugh left to walk back up the hill before it became dark.

As he walked, Hugh was thinking about Dorothy’s remark that Sir Julian would move on. He had been privately shocked at the man’s appearance. Previously, he had seemed very positive and this came across in his movements which were quick and precise. Now there was a hesitancy about him. Only when they were up at the houses and he was dealing with the Surveyor did he seem to regain that commanding presence which Hugh had admired.

Thinking about it a little more, he wondered if the restoration of the cottages would be enough of a challenge to bring him back to his sense of purpose. He hoped so.

*


Half term was coming up fast and would be a full week as Good Friday was not till the 19th April and now most boys could travel home for all holidays, there would only be a two week holiday at Easter.

Reg had been feeling scratchy as he put it, and had managed to fall out with almost everyone in the past few weeks. Fortunately, as far as he was concerned, most of the boys felt the same so he didn’t stand out in particular. Even when the snow had cleared and the waters had subsided, the sports fields remained too muddy to play on and almost everyone longed to get out and left off steam.

It was a familiar problem for the staff as it happened most years towards the end of winter and there was more latitude given towards horseplay and noisiness than would normally be tolerated. The staff were looking forward to half term as much as the boys.

Reg was spending a long weekend with the Maynards and then the rest of the time at home. He had heard from Miss Hatcherd that Canning’s operation had been a success and had written to him twice during the first half of term. Mr Douglas, on hearing that he was going to stay with the Maynards and intended to visit Canning, had spoken to Miss Hatcherd who was organising contact and Reg went down on the day before the end of term to collect a bundle of letters from his classmates and a pack of work.

It was fun to go back to Chaucer again and, greatly daring, he knocked at the study door to speak to Mr Wheeler. On hearing the call to enter, he diffidently poked his head round the door.

“Are you free, Sir?” He asked as the familiar figure looked up from his papers.

John looked surprised and smiled. “Come in, do. I haven’t seen you for a long while. If I wasn’t sure you’ve heard it often enough before, I’d say you’d grown.”

Reg walked across, grinning. “Not so much recently, Sir. It’s more a matter of growing sideways now. At least I don’t get called a beanpole so often.”

“Was there anything in particular or are you down here on an errand?”

“I’ve just come to collect the post for Canning and I haven’t seen you for ages either.”

“Well tell me all your news, then. I hear you had a rather exciting holiday last year.”

Reg’s face lit up. “It was wizard, Sir. I loved sailing. I’m going to have my own boat when I’m grown up and can afford it. Oh, we climbed Coniston Old Man as well. Have you been up there?”

“A long while ago. I’ve walked most of the fells in the Lake District. How is your Aunt?”

“She’s very well thank you. She came for part of the holiday and really enjoyed it. It was the first holiday she’s ever had, apart from going to Howells, of course to stay with the Maynards and their friends. You know, when I first came here, I was worried she would be lonely but she gets letters from them as well as me and she’s even been down to Armishire on her own.”

“That’s good. And how about school? My spies tell me you are doing well and the inseparables are six now.”

“Yes, Kourakis somehow joined us and we’re all doing well. It seems odd that we’ll be doing School Cert next year. That’s a bit frightening.”

“With your marks, you’ll do fine.”

“I have to.”[/I] Said Reg grimly. “I’ve been given the chance and I need to make the best of it.”

John looked at him with concern. “Relax, Lad. You’re doing well. Just keep going as you are and you’ll have no problems. Tense up like you’re doing now and you’ll freeze when it comes to the exams. What’s got you in a state?”

“Nothing, really. Most of the time, I don’t think about it and then I do and it all seems hard again.”

“I never thought I’d end up telling a boy to stop thinking, but on this occasion, I will. Doctor Maynard thought you would need an extra year at Chaucer to catch up. If anything goes wrong next year you can always resit and still be where he thought you would be. It isn’t something to worry about. You’ve been tied to the house too much this term. You need a good run to calm you down.”

“I expect you are right, Sir. Not much chance, though with the ground as it is.”

“Well, you’re off tomorrow so have a good run while you’re away and we’ll hope for better weather when you get back.”

“I’ll do that, Sir. Have good holidays.” He smiled at John and went off feeling more cheerful. Mr Wheeler always seemed to understand how a chap felt.

The next day, the boys all set off early, the big coaches pulling up to the school and being loaded with their customary efficiency, the excited boys being kept in order by staff and prefects. One by one, they rolled away down the drive and suddenly the school was quiet.

Most of the staff were taking the opportunity of a break and only five boys were staying at the Senior School with three staff to look after them so each of the staff could get at least two clear days off duty. Trips were planned to York and also to Leeds and the five had moved into one dormitory for the holidays and would use one Common Room.

Hugh was on duty and had arranged to have the first two days off with Dorothy. Only three boys were staying at Chaucer House so they would join the older boys for the major excursions and the staff of the two Houses hoped to be able to combine other activities.

As soon as the boys were gone, he packed a small case and set off down the path to Chaucer where he would stay for his two nights off. The investigation into the well had taken longer than they had expected and they would hear the results today. If it was not satisfactory, they would spend the two days looking at cottages farther afield.

Dorothy was waiting for him in the sitting room at the Lodge and Sir Julian arrived shortly afterwards to tell them the news. One look at his beaming face as he walked up the path waving a piece of paper showed them that all was well and Dorothy heaved a sigh of relief. They ushered him into the sitting room and Dorothy brought in a tray of tea.

“The well is perfect. The water is pure and I’ve made enquiries locally and am told that it never dries up. I’ve bought them both and the builders are moving in on Monday. ”

“Can they really get them done by July?”

“They say so. I’ve offered a bonus based on how quickly they finish. There’s not much work about for builders at the moment round here and Mr Beilby is bringing in workers from round about to help. I’m going to stay around and keep an eye on things which should keep them on their toes.

I expect you’ve discussed the whole idea so let’s get down to practicalities. Are you interested in renting one of the cottages?

They both nodded.

“Good. I’ve made enquiries and rents are around eight shillings and sixpence in the village as you probably know.”

“That’s for two bedroom cottages with only a tiny garden and no bathroom.” Objected Dorothy. “This has three and a bathroom.”

“These houses are well out of the village though and so they’d be cheaper.” Countered, Sir Julian.

“But you’re spending an awful lot of money on them.”

Hugh sat back and let them fight it out. He knew Dorothy was proudly independent and Sir Julian would have an uphill struggle to get her to pay any less than what she considered a fair rent just because she knew the landlord. He also knew that Sir Julian had more experience of negotiations than Dorothy had.

In the end, Sir Julian got his way but Dorothy’s pride was salved by an agreement that she would care for both front gardens. Sir Julian had no experience of gardening and, while he was prepared to learn in the back garden, he felt that the front garden needed a more experienced touch if it was to be up to standard. Once agreement had been reached, Dorothy went to refill the teapot and Sir Julian gave Hugh a rueful grin.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had a negotiation where someone wanted to pay more before.”

“She’s right though.” Hugh pointed out. “It has to be on a business footing. We’re going to be neighbours, don’t forget.”

Dorothy brought the refilled teapot in and they settled to chatting about plans for the cottages.

“I thought of just a pale colour wash right through.” Sir Julian suggested. “That leaves a blank canvas if you wanted to do something different on top. What are you doing for furniture?”

“We’ll buy some and add to it as we can. We’ve talked about it and we do at least know what we don’t like, which is half the battle. Will you bring furniture from your flat?”

Sir Julian shook his head. “I’m letting the flat furnished. I don’t even like what I’ve got there. It all came from my parents’ home and it’s dark, too big for a cottage and fussy. If I’m making a fresh start, I’ll do the same as you. I’ll get the essentials and add to them as I see things I like. I’ve no real objection to Utility furniture. It’s well made and will suit my purpose. I’m going to have to get bookshelves put up though.” He looked across the room at the long wall of shelves. “Something like that would be admirable. Do you know, this will be my first real home. The flat was my father’s.”

Sir Julian showed them the plans for the bathroom extensions and they decided to walk up to the houses to see how they would fit on the back of the cottages.

*

Auntie was waiting at Leeds with two suitcases as she had brought Reg’s home clothes with her. They caught the York train with ease and sat on York station to eat their sandwiches while they waited for the Express to Armiford, Reg chatting non stop as they did so.

By the time the train came in and they boarded for the familiar journey, Auntie had heard the highlights, including the story of the flood, Reg had run down and was happy to sit quietly with a book for most of the journey.

They were met by Frank Peters who bundled them into the car and set off for Howells in a hurry as he needed to be back at the San as soon as possible.

“I’ll drop Auntie off first with Phoebe and Debby and then drop Reg at the gates to Jo’s place.” He explained. “I’m really pushed for time today.”

“I can walk over from Phoebe’s.” Reg offered. “It’s not far and I know the way.”

Frank looked relieved. “If you don’t mind, that would help.” He concentrated on his driving and they were soon pulling up outside his house.

They quickly unpacked their cases and Reg set off for the Maynards. He would have liked to stay for a moment with Phoebe but Auntie insisted that they would expect him at the Maynards earlier than he would arrive and he set off cheerfully.

In truth, he was glad to walk along the lane on his own. Once he arrived at Jo’s house, he would probably not get a minute to himself for the whole stay. Not that he minded, of course. It was always great fun and he would get a chance to go to the San. He was going to visit Canning on Saturday and surely Dr Jack would arrange for him to see some x-rays or something.

The next couple of days were hectic. The triplets seemed to have grown a lot since last summer and never left him from morning till night. He was surprised to find that Steven remembered him as well and insisted on having Reg help with his evening bath. On the Friday afternoon, Sybil came over for tea and ended up staying for supper. After the small children were in bed, they played Monopoly with Jack and Jo and it was not till the phone rang that Jo looked up and shrieked as she saw the time. Apologetic calls were made and Sybil stayed the night, much to her joy.

*



Jimmy Canning tried to read the latest Biggles book but he really wasn’t taking any of it in and, eventually, he threw it down on the bed in disgust. Sister had told him that Entwistle was coming to see him this morning and he was nervous. Entwistle was fit and had two good legs and he could run like the wind. He rather wondered whether he was coming because he had been told to or if he really wanted to come.

He worried about what they would find to talk about. There wasn’t much to tell about being here and he might be squeamish if he said anything about life on the ward. Some people were and it was hard work when they came to visit. In fact most visitors were hard work. They didn’t know what to say and there were long silences or else they talked even on about things he didn’t care about any more.

He was lucky that his parents came. Some didn’t. Billy, in the next bed, only got a visit about once a month now. His Mum came on her own and she cried when she left. Billy didn’t say much about it but he’d been here a year, lying face down on a plaster frame while his spine got better. Jimmy wondered if Billy was really getting better. He’d had another abscess two weeks ago and spent four days in the little side room. You only went there when you were really ill. He’d been quieter since then and slept a lot.

All the others were out on the balcony but he’d been left inside because he had a visitor. It was nice really because it meant you didn’t have everyone else watching and listening. That could be really awful, especially when someone like Aunt Agnes came and cried her eyes out, slobbering all over him and calling him “a poor little mite” . He’d asked Dad not to let her come again and he’d promised he wouldn’t.

“Why are you looking so fed up? I thought you’d been waiting for that book for ages.”

It was Nurse O’Reilly, smiling as she always did. She was everyone’s favourite. She never gave anyone away to Sister, even the time Johnnie tipped his wheelchair over trying to catch a ball of screwed up paper they were throwing round the ward.

“An older boy from school is coming to see me this morning and I’m not sure what we’re going to talk about.”

Nurse Reilly had been around a while and knew how difficult it was for these long stay patients to cope with visitors from outside. There was even a word for it now. ‘Institutionalised’ was a long word for a simple problem which didn’t have a simple solution. The Ward became the patients’ total world. No wonder, really, that it was so difficult for children. Even adults had been known to become ill at the very thought of returning home, after months or years in the San.

“Well, if he gets you down, just tell him you’re tired! I expect you’ll enjoy it once he gets here though. What is his name?”

“Entwistle.”

Nurse O’Reilly laughed. “Sure, and you’ll have no problem with young Reg. He’s used to the San. Just be prepared to tell him the medical details. He’s bound to want to know.”

Jimmy looked at her in some surprise. “You know him?”

“He’s in and out every chance he gets when he stays with Dr Maynard. Didn’t you know he wants to be a Doctor when he’s old enough?”

“No. I knew Doctor Maynard was paying for him to go to school. He told us that as soon as he came to Polgarth but I didn’t know he was going to be a Doctor.”

“There! Now you’ve told me something I didn’t know. It sounds like Doctor and Mrs Maynard, though, bless their hearts. We all just thought he and his Auntie were friends of Miss Wychcote. Oops! I should say Mrs Peters.”

Jimmy looked confused, as well he might. Seeing his confusion, Nurse O’Reilly took pity on him and told him a little more.

“Miss Wychcote was one of my patients a couple of years ago. She had inflammatory rheumatism and we really thought she didn’t have much chance. Then she got better and married Dr Peters. Reg and his Auntie came to visit while she was here. She said he was her oldest friend and I got to know him then. I’ve never met such a boy for asking questions.”

She patted him on the cheek and put the abused book on his locker. “You’ll be fine. Just remember, if it gets too much, say you are tired.”

She straightened his covers to a semblance of what Sister would expect and went her way. Jimmy laid quietly and thought about Entwistle’s visit. Polgarth seemed a world away, another life. The first few weeks, he’d thought about it all through the day. ‘Now they are in Maths. They are at break now. I wonder what they are having for supper.’

Once he had the operation, it all changed. The first few days he didn’t really remember but once he got back on the Ward and the realisation hit that he was stuck in this bed for the next six months at least, Polgarth faded. Only the weekly pack with his work and letters from his form kept it even slightly alive in his mind. The hospital routine took over and he lived to the rhythm of bed pans, temperature taking, ward rounds and injections. He worked hard at his lessons, more because he wanted to please the teachers here than to have good results to send back to school and his world closed in, punctuated by the weekly X-rays which showed the slow progress of bone miraculously closing the gap which would make his leg longer.

The only outsiders who really counted, apart from Mum and Dad of course, were local. Mrs Maynard popped in from time to time, always bringing some little treat for the boys. She didn’t ask silly questions about how he was and she didn’t stay too long. She’d wander down the ward, speaking to each boy as she passed, remembering their names, cracking a joke here and murmuring an encouraging word there.

There were the teachers who came round the wards each day and beds were clustered together for their lessons. Sometimes it got complicated because there were boys from eight to fifteen on the ward and no two were at the same stage. It had been a bit awkward at first because he seemed to be well ahead of all of them and had to work by himself. Then someone had given him the nickname of ‘The Professor’ and the teachers had asked him to help some of the little ones with their reading. That made it better and he fitted in again. He began to wonder about being a teacher when he grew up.

A few weeks ago, a new teacher had appeared to help him with his Maths. She taught at a nearby girls school and was coming in once a week to help him as the teachers here couldn’t give him the time he needed. Miss Slater had seemed strict at first but, once he showed her what he was doing and that he really wanted to learn, she soon thawed and he’d got over the problem he couldn’t solve in trigonometry and was going ahead now.

He heard voices coming down the Ward and there was Entwistle striding down the Ward with Sister and looking as nervous as he felt. They stopped at his bed and Sister gave her usual lecture about not sitting on the bed and being careful not to jolt it.

“You’ve got one hour.” She said as she gave the sheets a totally unnecessary tweak. “If you get tired, Jimmy, you must say so. Reg, no larking about and don’t make Jimmy tired.”

With that, she bustled off with a rustle of starch and left them looking at one another shyly.

“Her bark is worse than her bite.” Said Jimmy. “She’s really quite nice.”

Reg grinned in relief and pretended to wipe sweat from his brow.

“I’m glad to hear it. She lectured me non-stop all the way down the ward about not talking too much or getting you excited.”

They both laughed and the ice was broken.

Reg produced the latest pack of work for Jimmy and the bundle of letters from his friends. “Sorry to bring work when we’re on half term but Miss Hatcherd said it would save the postage. Are you on half term as well?”

“Yes. We only get two days, though. It’s a bit different here. I think they want to keep us busy so we don’t get proper holidays. It’s not as if we can go anywhere anyway.”

“That makes sense I suppose. Mrs Maynard said I shouldn’t ask stupid questions about how you are and that you might not want to talk about school. I began to wonder what we would talk about Oh, and she said I should call you Jimmy and you are to call me Reg. She hates this surname stuff! I do want to ask how you are, though, if you don’t mind telling me. All I know is that the operation was a success.”

“Do you really want the gory details?”

Reg grinned. “I know what they’ve done. I saw some X-rays of someone who had the same operation and I know how it works in theory. I don’t understand how bone manages to grow to fill the gap, of course. I don’t think anyone does. Now I see you strung up, I see how they keep the tension on to keep the gap right.”

He stood up and went to the foot of the bed to examine the weights.

“I suppose they increase the weights every so often to stretch it further?”

This matter of fact discussion of the technicalities made Jimmy feel more relaxed. And he heaved himself up onto one elbow to explain how the pulleys worked.

“The first half inch has filled in and I’m on the second now.”

Reg looked impressed. “How much more have you got to go?”

Jimmy made a face. “Probably only another three inches. They only usually do three inches at a time and then you have leave it a while to get your strength up. Even with massage and exercises, the muscles get weak and I’m going to have to learn to walk again with a longer leg AND a straight back. They’ve fused two of the bones to help straighten it. I’m doing well enough they’re going to try for four inches though and I’ll just have to have a raised sole to my shoe and not have to come back again.”

“Better than that heavy old boot!”

“Much!”

“What are the other boys like? From what Mrs Maynard said, there’s lots of different ages in here.”

Jimmy found it easy to tell Reg about the other boys and his particular friends. He told him about how they organised lessons and how he was helping the younger boys. Reg sat and quietly listened, putting in an occasional question and Jimmy told him more than he had intended, including his worries about Billy.

After a while, Jimmy asked about school and Reg told him a few of the funnier things which had happened and about the new kites. Jimmy looked wistful at the mention of those, as he had enjoyed watching them in previous terms.

Soon the hour was up and Nurse O’Reilly came to shoo Reg out.

“I’m sure to be down again over the Easter Hols and I’ll come in then.” He said in farewell.

Nurse O’Reilly escorted Reg up the Ward and then returned to help Jimmy into a jumper and put a sock on this exposed foot before pushing him out onto the balcony.

“You see,” she said, as he beamed at her. “It was all right, wasn’t it?”

Reg went off to Dr Jack’s office and found him waiting with a tray of sandwiches and a pot of tea.

“I thought we’d have it here instead of going to the Dining Room, where we’ll get interrupted. How was young Jimmy?”

Reg looked thoughtful. “I didn’t really know what to expect. He seemed all right. He’s a bit thinner I think but he doesn’t look ill.”

“I can hear a ‘but’ in your voice ….”

“He wasn’t that interested in school. I told him some of the funny bits and he laughed, but it wasn’t a real laugh. He talked most of the time about the Ward and the other boys. Mrs Jo said he might not want to talk about school and I thought it was because it might upset him but it was more as if he just wasn’t interested.”

Jack nodded. “The Ward is his whole world at the moment. He’s been in here for three months, you know and he’s got a long while to go yet. It’s a way of accepting it. Lot’s of patients get like that. He may not have seemed interested but it’s good for him to be reminded of the real world sometimes. Here, have a sandwich. I’m sure you’ve still got hollow legs!”

Reg grinned and took one. He was quiet while he was eating and Jack wondered what was going through his mind.

“A penny for them.” Said Jack eventually.

“I was just wondering, trying to imagine being stuck in here like he is. When he comes back to school, everything will have changed. He won’t have seen his friends for a year and he’ll be different as well.”

“It’s something we’re only just getting to grips with. When I started as a Doctor we concentrated on what was wrong and no one really thought about the how patients felt. We even believed we should encourage children to settle by not having visitors very often and we only allowed parents to visit once a week, because the children often got upset when their parents left. Even for adults, if they were going to be in hospital for months or even years, it was felt they were better not thinking about home but concentrating on getting well. It’s still the same in most hospitals.

Dr Jem thought that was storing up trouble for when they went home so when he started the San out in Austria, he encouraged relatives to come and stay. The Chalet School took children whose parents were in the San and they visited regularly. Some whole families moved out and came to live out there while relatives were being treated. To some people’s surprise it made a measurable difference to our success rate. Long term patients get scared of going out into the world again. It’s all changed and they sometimes don’t fit in easily.”

“I’d not really thought about it before. I just thought about making people’s bodies better. He told me about the boy in the next bed. He’s been in here for a year and Jimmy thinks he’s not getting better. His Dad never comes now and his Mum only comes once a month or so. I think that’s awful.”

Jack sighed and took a sip of his tea while he thought of what to say to an impressionable boy of fifteen.

“A lot of people can’t cope with seeing people ill, especially parents when their children are ill. They feel so helpless. They don’t know what to talk about when they’re here, then they’re upset when they have to leave. They start to find excuses not to come. They don’t mean to but they just don’t have the strength to cope with it.”

To Jack’s surprise, Reg immediately went to the heart of the matter.

“I can see that makes it more difficult to get better. He might want to get better for them but if he thinks they don’t care …” He said slowly.

Jack nodded. “Exactly.” He didn’t want to dwell too long on the intractable subject but he was intent on helping Reg to become as good a doctor as possible.

“It’s all too easy to see each patient in terms of what is wrong with his body. Sometimes we hear a doctor or a nurse refer to someone as ‘the hip in bed 10’ or something like that. Believe me, we jump on that straight away. It would be easier for us, of course, especially when we can’t cure someone but I’m convinced that it is important to look at the person and make him as happy as possible.”

“What can I do to help Jimmy?”

“Well, was there anything you felt he was happy to talk about?”

Reg re-ran the conversation in his head. “There were two things really. One about school and one about here. He was happy to tell me all about the operation and the apparatus once he realised I was really interested in the details. He explained it all and even showed me where the pins were in his leg. It was really interesting and I’ve a better idea of how it works now. He didn’t mind that at all.

The other thing was kite flying. I remembered he used to come up and watch most Saturdays. He couldn’t fly them himself and sometimes he looked a bit sad, but he kept coming back. I told him a bit about how that has gone this term, not that we’ve done much with the weather being bad.”

“Well done. I should have realised that you would want all the details from him and he would see you were really interested. Having someone from outside being interested and not being squeamish about it usually helps. It makes the whole thing seem more normal.

As for the kites, that’s given him something to look forward to when this is all over. Now, if you’ve finished, I know there’s some X-rays for you to see and Dr Coulter is in the lab today doing some urgent tests so he said he’s show you some more of those cultures. We’re looking at a new antibiotic which seems promising.”

They left the office and went their separate ways and for a few hours, Reg forgot Jimmy’s problems in the joy of learning more about how the body works and the fun of gazing at bacteria through a microscope.

 

#4:  Author: patmac, Location: Yorkshire England PostPosted: Tue Apr 04, 2006 7:35 pm

Reg set off down the long drive from the San with a lot to think about. He had stayed longer than he should have at the San, first in X-Ray and then in the Lab. Everyone was so helpful and didn’t mind his questions. Dr Jack had stuck his head in the Lab to say he was leaving and to remind him that he was expected at Phoebe’s for tea so should keep an eye on the time.

As it was, he would now have to run most of the way but that was all to the good. Running always helped him think. He stretched a few times once he was out of sight of the San and set off at an easy lope. Soon the rhythm set in and his mind was free.

He’d not thought before beyond the sheer fascination of mending broken bodies. Ever since he could remember, he had been fascinated by how the body worked. He recalled how he had wondered why everybody had five toes on each foot and five fingers on each hand. He’d asked Auntie and she didn’t know. There were no books at school to tell him and he grinned as he remembered how it had puzzled him for weeks. Of course he was only little then, about eight or nine. That had been the start.

During his years in the village, he had seen people whose fractures had set askew, leaving them with a permanent limp or useless arm. He knew other people who had had broken bones and they had set right and had wondered what went wrong.

Then there was Joe’s Dad, limping along in a built up boot and unable to find permanent work because of it. He was such a good worker and he never complained. Fleetingly, he wondered now if that had been caused like Canning’s problem by TB.

He remembered looking at books with Miss Armitage and how she had shown him how the blood went round the body carrying the food it needed to keep it healthy and how she had taught him how to feel it pumping by putting his finger on his wrist or his neck. It was fascinating and he’d felt her blood going round just the same and then he’d gone home and felt Auntie’s as well.

It was Miss Armitage who had set him on this path and he wished she was here now to talk to. She had taught him so much about how bodies worked but she’d never mentioned being upset by people’s illness, not even when she couldn’t help and someone died.

For the first time, he was thinking about the person who inhabited the body. From what Dr Jack had said, the mind could make a difference to how the body healed. He knew vaguely that some people actually studied how the mind worked and he wondered how he could find out more.

Come to think of it, his mind affected his body. If he could stop concentrating on what his legs were doing, he ran better. There! He had stumbled as he thought about his legs! Stopping for a moment, his thoughts went back to the main issue. He would not be treating illness but real people. Now, that was really scary! What if he made mistakes?

How did Doctors cope, knowing that what they were doing would hurt someone to make them better. He remembered when he put his shoulder out and Miss Armitage had put it back in the socket. That had hurt like mad but she still did it because she knew it was the right thing.

For the first time, he wondered if he was really cut out to be a Doctor. Setting off again, he pushed the thought to the back of his mind till later and thought about Phoebe who he hadn’t seen for nearly a year.

His legs worked automatically again as he ran on. Auntie would be there, too and, although he couldn’t talk to her about this, he really needed to see her. For all his complaints that she treated him like a little boy, at this moment, he felt like one.

He wasn’t really late, after all. Phoebe, Debby and even Auntie, expected him to be late as he was bound to be sidetracked at the San. If Auntie wondered that he gave her a special hug when he arrived, she didn’t show it.

Dr Frank was there as well and pulled his leg about his fascination with the lab and looking at bacteria as they sat down to tea. The conversation stayed general, for which Reg was thankful and he got over the queries about how his visit with Canning had gone quite easily and without letting anyone realise that he was worrying, at least he hoped so.

Phoebe looked well and he noticed that she was walking with only one stick now. It didn’t take long for them to slip into their old relationship and soon they were remembering some of the mischief Reg had got up to when younger. In retaliation, he recounted some of the times he and Phoebe and he had pulled the wool over Debby’s eyes and, even some of the things Auntie never knew about that he and Joe had done. This sparked Dr Frank to tell them tales of his own mischief as a boy and soon they were all laughing and trying to cap one another’s stories. Auntie and Debbie joined in and Reg was wide eyed at their tales. It seemed impossible that they had really been children once.

After tea, Frank set off for the San. Reg watched him go with a thoughtful face. He didn’t have to go, but he wanted to see a patient who was waiting for the results of some tests and, as these were now ready, he was eager to give her the good news tonight so she would sleep well.

Debbie and Auntie went into the kitchen to wash up and give Phoebe and Reg a chance to have time on their own. They settled down by the fire in the parlour, Phoebe in her favourite chair and Reg sprawled on the rug in front of the fire.

Reg told her all about the previous term and she listened with interest and laughed at the thought of Hanson curtseying.

“That was good psychology.” She said with approval. “It made the point without ending up with a row. What’s up Reg? I know you well enough to know something is worrying you.”

Reg rolled over onto his back so he didn’t have to meet her eyes and poured out his problems. He told her about how Jimmy didn’t seem interested in anything except what happened on the Ward and about some of the other children who had been there for a year or more. Finally, he told her about Billy, who Jimmy thought was so unhappy and how he didn’t seem to be getting better.

“You see, I’d not really thought about it before. If he’s not going to get better, wouldn’t he be happier at home with his Mum and Dad? It sounds awful because he might die sooner but at least he would be happy.

It’s not just that I’m afraid of making mistakes when I’m a Doctor, though I am of course. It’s all the other things that go with it.”

He stopped and rolled over again to face her.

Phoebe thought for a moment.

“Do you remember when I was so ill that last summer in Garnham?”

Reg nodded, his eyes fixed intently on her.

“I hurt so much it was almost unbearable and I was so fed up with being weak and not being able to do things. I know now that the Doctors here didn’t think I would live long. I’m not sure I wanted to either, I felt so ill.

If they had taken the view that I would be happier at home, I wouldn’t be here now. It was touch and go at first but they never gave up. I’ll tell you something else as well. They always seemed cheerful and confident. I know now they were acting as if they were cheerful to help me and make me confident that I would get better.”

Reg looked doubtful. “I don’t know if I could act like that.”

“You did it today, didn’t you? You didn’t let Jimmy see you were upset by what he told you about Billy.”

“I suppose I did, but I got all worked up about it afterwards and you saw I was upset.”

“So do all the Doctors. Frank says that’s the hardest part of the job. They help one another through it and I’m proud he feels he can let it out to me now.”

The sound of voices came from the hall and Phoebe changed the conversation, quickly.

“Did you know I’m helping with your Miss Hatcherd’s wedding dress?”

“No. I didn’t even know you knew her. We haven’t been told officially when they are getting married but there’s a rumour it’s in the summer. I do like her and Mr Douglas.”

Debby passed round cups of tea and they all settled down.

“I don’t know her yet but she went to the Chalet School and Jo knows her. One of the mistresses at the school is making it and I’m doing some embroidery. I wouldn’t tell anyone at school then, if I were you. It is sure to come out sooner or later when they are getting married, but you’d better not be involved in letting it out.”

Reg promised he wouldn’t say anything and it was soon time for him to make his way back to the Maynards.

*
When Frank returned, Phoebe was sitting by the fire, looking pensive, her sewing unheeded in her lap. She looked up and smiled as he came in and raised her face for his kiss.

He sat at the other side of the fire and looked across at her, one eyebrow raised.

“What’s on your mind, love? Can I help?”

“It’s not serious, at least I hope not, but Reg has just realised he’ll be dealing with real people with feelings and not just with the illness they have. Jimmy told him about a boy who doesn’t seem to be getting better, in fact if Reg has read the comments correctly, he’s getting worse.

He had a bit of a crisis over whether the boy would be better off happy at home for a shorter life than hanging on if nothing can be done.”

Frank’s other eyebrow shot up.

“He’s a bit young to be questioning that. I don’t think I did till I was a houseman. What did you say?”

“I just told him that you all thought I wouldn’t live but you didn’t give up and you didn’t show me how worried you were. I believed you, when you encouraged me, you know and I really do think that made a difference. I don’t know why he picks things like that up. I don’t like him being worried yet, he’s only a boy.”

“If he’s old enough to think of it, he’s just going to have to get through it. Would you like me to have a word with Jack – I’ll tell him not to let on that you’ve spoken to me about it.”

“Yes, please. He’s only here till Tuesday and I don’t like the idea of him brooding over it.”

“I’ll call now from the study, then Auntie won’t hear. There’s no point in her worrying as well.”

“Thank you, darling. Come and give me another kiss before you go. I’m feeling in need of a bit of comfort myself.”

Frank came over, knelt beside her chair and stroked her face tenderly.

“My darling. I’m so lucky to be married to you.”

He leant across and kissed her, lingeringly, before stroking her face again and leaving to room to phone Jack.

*




As soon as Jack heard what Frank was calling about, he asked him to wait so he could take the call in his study. Frank, who could hear screams and shouts in the background waited patiently while Jack went to pick up the extension, wondering if he had called at a bad time.

“That’s better. I can hear myself think now.” Jack commented as he picked up the handset.

“Have I phoned at a bad time? It sounds as if someone is hurt.”

Jack chuckled. “Not yet, though we may have to calm them down before bedtime. Reg has the bearskin hearthrug draped over his back and is going around on all fours being a bear. Our five are being chased round the house and loving it! Needless to say, Rufus is galloping right along with them. It’s where he normally sleeps so I think he’s confused that his bed has run away.”

Frank laughed at that. “I nearly grabbed my bag and came rushing over. It’s Reg I’m calling about.”

“Ah! Did he spill his problems to Phoebe?”

“He did. I’m glad you know about it. He’s worked his way through to the point where he’s querying whether patients who aren’t going to get well should be sent home to die, rather than us trying to keep them alive longer. It was sparked by Jimmy telling him about another boy.”

Jack groaned. “I should have guessed he’d go that far. How do you teach ethics to a fifteen year old? Thanks for calling. We’ll find a chance to deal with it later when the little ones are in bed. How did Phoebe handle it?”

“She told him of her own experience and how if we had given up, she’d not have pulled through.”

“That’s a good start and probably as much use as what I can tell him.”

“As I told Phoebe, if he’s old enough to ask, he’s old enough to be told.”

“I agree with Phoebe. The trouble is he’s such a weird mix. He comes out with things like that and then sometimes he seems so young. I get a bit worried about him sometimes.”

“It’s partly his age and partly his background. You wait till your children get to that age. You’ll really have your work cut out!”

“Thank you for those kind words! I’ll let you know tomorrow how we get on. You’re all coming to tea aren’t you.”

“We are indeed. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Jack went back to the Drawing Room, narrowly missing being bowled over by Margot who was screaming across the hall as the ‘bear’ lumbered down the stairs, growling.

Jo was peacefully reading a magazine as he entered and looked up. “That wasn’t the San, I hope?”

“No. It was Frank. It seems Reg was a bit upset about one of Jimmy’s friends
on the ward who seems to be going downhill. He’s got to the point of wondering what is the point of keeping him in hospital when he might be happier at home if he’s not going to get better.” He sighed as he sank into a chair.

Jo raised her eyebrows. “I’m not surprised really, though I’d rather he had been a bit older.”

Jack winced as a particularly piercing scream came from the hall.

“Do you think we ought to calm things down? At this rate, there’ll be tears before bedtime.”

“It just shows how little time you spend at home, my lad! At this time of the year, I’m just glad they can let off some energy without getting muddy! What are you going to do about Reg?”

“I suppose I’ll have to try and talk to him. I don’t relish it though.”

Jo thought for a moment. “Leave it to me for tonight. He’ll expect me to go in for a moment when he goes to bed, as I usually do. If it gets beyond me, I’ll tell you.”

“Are you sure? It’s my job really.”

“You just pray for me to have the right words. I think he’ll open up to me better than you.”

Jack looked relieved. “Bless you, Jo.” He stood up and crossed to where she was sitting. “Bless you.” He repeated as he kissed her.

Jo returned his kiss with enthusiasm and then, as a crash sounded from the hall, she drew away and grinned. “That’s the hall table. Now you know why I moved your Granny’s vase! I’ll start winding them down in time for supper now or Anna will have something to say!”

*

After supper, Reg and Jack spent most of the evening looking through Jack’s precious book of paintings of birds, while Jo sat quietly by the fire, knitting once the triplets were settled. At ten o’clock, she suggested that Reg should make his way to bed. Giving him plenty of time to settle, she went up to see him with some trepidation. If Reg had been a girl, she would have had no problem in dealing with his worries but boys were a different matter.

For the first time, she wondered how she would cope with Steve and Charles when they reached this age. Her childhood had been singularly devoid of boy companions and she realised she had no idea how they thought.

Pausing on the landing, she stopped to offer up a prayer for guidance before knocking gently on his door.

“Come in, Mrs Jo.”

She opened the door, grinning. “How did you know it was me? I could have been a bogey man.”

“Bogey men don’t knock! Anyway, you always come up when I go to bed. I knew you would come.”

“Do you mind? I’ve always popped in to see my children and Primula, Daisy and Robin, so I’ve got into the habit.”

Reg sat up. “No, I like it. I bet my Mum would have done it, too.”

Jo sat on the edge of his bed. “Do you miss her?”

Reg considered the question seriously. “Not most of the time. I never knew her, you know. It’s just, sometimes ….. “

“When you’ve something on your mind …. I can’t take the place of your mother, Reg, but you are part of my family now. What’s bothering you?”

Reg hesitated. It was one thing to tell Phoebe, quite another to talk to Mrs Jo. What if she told Dr Jack and they decided that he wasn’t cut out to be a Doctor after all.

Jo moved further onto the bed and settled herself. “Just don’t tell Matey! I never did understand why she was so against sitting on beds.”

Reg, who had met the redoubtable lady, smiled. “It’s something they learn when they are training. Ours says the same.”

“Come on, then. Was it something about your visit to Jimmy?”

“I don’t know if I really can be a doctor.” It all came out in a rush. “There’s a boy on Jimmy’s ward who has been there for ages, over a year, and he’s getting worse. His Dad doesn’t come any more and his Mum only comes about once a month. It sounds awful.”

“You’re talking about Billy?”

“Yes. Do you know him?”

“Yes. I go onto that ward every couple of weeks to visit the boys.” Jo sighed and her eyes were pools of sadness. “Poor lad. He was in a bad way when he came in. The dreadful thing had got a real hold on him.”

“He’s not going to get better, is he?”

“Probably not until some new drug is found that can kill TB. There are tests going on in America and, if they can keep him alive long enough, one may be in time for him. You know Phoebe had a new treatment when she came here?” Reg nodded. “Well, lots of people died of inflammatory rheumatism and the doctors could have said the same as you are saying now but they kept trying new things till one worked. Even now, it doesn’t work for everyone.

Some people do get better when they’re in as bad a state as Billy. I’ve known of people who have. The trouble is no one knows which people will get better and which won’t.”

“But, how do the Doctors cope with not being able to do anything? They must feel so helpless.”

Reg was bolt upright now and leaning forward in his earnestness. Jo reached out and covered his hands with hers.

“They just go on trying. They feel they have to because the next thing they try might work. It’s not that many years ago that Jimmy would have been stuck with that boot and his twisted spine. There’s another thing that can help as well.” Jo looked almost shy and hesitated, not knowing how he would take this. “Prayer.”

Reg thought about this for a minute and then said, equally shyly, “I’m not sure I can do that.”

“Do you believe in God?”

“I suppose so.”

“There’s one prayer you can say, then.”

Reg looked at her in puzzlement.

“The prayer St Thomas said. Remember when he didn’t believe in the risen Christ till he had put his hand in His wounds. ‘Lord, I believe. Help Thou my unbelief.”

*



Reg lay thinking about what Mrs Jo had said. Auntie had insisted he should go to Sunday School and she had signed the forms agreeing to his confirmation which would take place later in this very term, but he didn’t think God played any great part in her life. Not that they’d ever discussed it, of course.

He remembered how they had prayed at school for Canning when he had Scarlet Fever but it was penicillin that had made him better. They could have prayed all day but if Dr Jack hadn’t got the penicillin for him, he would have been a goner. Dr Jack did believe prayer helped though. That was odd. After all he knew how the body worked. It was bacteria that caused the illness and only the right medicine could kill them.

The Maynards were the first family he had met who prayed other than in Church and he remembered when Len had insisted he should join her mother to hear her bedtime prayers and she had included him in her prayers. “God bless Reg.” She had said and he remembered that he had got a lump in his throat. That was because she was a sweet little girl of course.

Perhaps he should think about it and try it. Dr Jack seemed to believe it.

He threw the covers back and got out of bed. Kneeling down, he closed his eyes and wondered what to say. He said the Lords Prayer but that didn’t seem to help. He’d knew it so well, it was just like reciting poetry. Oh, well! Mrs Jo had told him one prayer he could say. “Lord, I believe. Help thou my unbelief.”

He got up and thought for a moment but he didn’t feel any different. Perhaps it took time. He suddenly remembered it was Sunday tomorrow. The Maynards had never suggested that he should go to Church with them. They were Catholics and they knew he was Church of England. He wondered if their services were different. It worked for them, perhaps he could try that.

The next morning he was awake early and quickly bathed and dressed in his school uniform and ran downstairs, finding Mrs Jo in the kitchen with the triplets, supervising their breakfast.

“May I come to church with you?”” he asked.

Jo looked at him in surprise. “We’d have to phone and ask Auntie. You know we’re Catholics and she might prefer you to go to your own church.”

“Shall I phone her, or will you?”

“You’d better ask her yourself. Do it now. We’re off in ten minutes.”

Reg went off to the phone in the hall and was back within five minutes. “She says it’s all right. She just reminded me to take some money for the collection.”

“Have a cup of tea and a slice of toast then. We haven’t got long.”

By the time Jack appeared in the hall, they were all ready and, apart from a raised eyebrow at Jo, he made no comment on Reg’s addition to the party.

They set off down the drive, the triplets clustered round Reg, talking nineteen to the dozen while Jo and Jack walked behind.

“What’s this all about?” Jack asked quietly. “Does his Auntie know?”

“Yes. I told him to phone her and ask permission. I suppose he’s been thinking about our chat last night. It’s typical of Reg to be so wholesale about things. I’ve no idea how we deal with his next queries. You do realise they’re going to be about religion and faith, don’t you.”

“We’ll just have to pray about it. It’s called practicing what we preach!”

*

Reg quietly followed the Mass as best he could. He found he knew enough Latin to understand at least some of it but, to be honest, he was more interested in watching other people he knew in the congregation. To his surprise, Miss Wilson was sitting in front of them and she seemed to be concentrating on her prayers as hard as the Maynards.

Reg had met her several times and developed a great admiration for her common sense and ready wit. She always seemed to have a twinkle in her eye and she didn’t seem to care if her hair came down when she was playing with the triplets.

Miss Annersley scared him a bit. She was so tall and serious and looked every inch the Head. Even when she was playing with the little ones, she never seemed to get untidy. If Miss Wilson, who was a Science Teacher, believed prayer could help then perhaps it could.

*

After the service, they stood round with a few other people, chatting and Miss Wilson grinned at him.

“How are you getting on, Reg? I’ve heard all about last summer’s holiday. Sailing is one thing I’ve never done and I’d like to.”

“It was marvellous and I really want to do it again. When I grow up, I’m going to buy a boat.”

“Good for you. You’ll not lack for a crew from what I’ve heard! I’ll come myself if you’ll have me.”

“You can teach me to ski in exchange. That sounds so exciting.”

“It’s a deal. With any luck, they’ll have sorted things out on the continent by then.”

Soon the groups broke up to walk back home for breakfast and Miss Wilson said goodbye and set off back to the School.

Reg walked ahead with the triplets, who were chattering away to him again and Jo and Jack strolled along, arm in arm, behind them.

“I think he was rather impressed to see Bill at Church.” Jo remarked quietly.

“I noticed him watching her during Mass. Will you say anything else to him?”

Jo shook her head. “Not unless he brings it up. I think he’ll take his time thinking about it all. I wouldn’t want to preach. Come on, let’s quicken the pace a little. Anna will be waiting to leave for the half past ten Mass.”

*

For the rest of the day, Reg shelved his worries and joined in all the planned activities quite happily. He helped Anna prepare the tea, teasing her all the while, and Jo chuckled as she heard Anna berating him for some prank. The thought occurred to her that Anna would be good with the Maynard boys as they got older – possibly understanding them better than Jo herself. After all she had had brothers and male cousins galore.

“That’s another thing Reg has helped with. He’s given me practice with dealing with an adolescent boy!” she thought.

Frank and Phoebe arrived with Auntie and Debby early in the afternoon and stayed till well after the triplets bedtime. It was only when Jo suddenly realised that Margot had dozed off on Auntie’s knee that they all became aware of the time.

In the flurry that followed, Reg had no chance to speak to Phoebe privately again but he thought she understood what he couldn’t say as he bent down to hug and kiss her.

“You’ll be fine. I’ll be praying for you.” She murmured quietly. “Write to me.”

“I will.” Reg promised, “and thank you.”

Once the visitors had gone, Jo and Anna took the triplets up to bed and Jack and Reg were left to straighten the drawing room. Once all was neat and tidy, they settled by the fire and Reg broached a subject he had been thinking about on and off all day.

 

#5:  Author: patmac, Location: Yorkshire England PostPosted: Tue Apr 04, 2006 7:38 pm

“When I saw Jimmy yesterday, one of the only things he perked up about was kite flying. I wondered, if it’s windy enough tomorrow morning, could I go and fly my kite where they could all see it? I’ve got it with me ‘cos I always take one home for the holidays.

The only thing is …. “ his brow wrinkled as he tried to think of how to put his doubt. “Would it seem like showing off because I can run and they can’t. I wouldn’t want to make things worse for them if it would make them jealous.”

Jack thought for a moment.

“I think it’s a really good idea. One of the problems we have is providing new things to catch their attention and make them look out to the world outside. If even one of them is sparked to get well enough to fly a kite, it would be worth it. You know I said that a lot of getting well is in the mind?”

“Yes and I’d like to know more about how it works. Do you have any books I could borrow?”

“I think you may have to wait till you get to college for that. Everything I’ve got is very heavy going. To be honest, from some of the theories I’ve read, we just don’t know how the mind works. All I know is that there is a bigger connection between the mind, the soul and the body than most people realise.”

Reg nodded. “What time should I go up there?”

“Let me have a word with Sister. Come to that, I’ll have to speak to all the Wards! You do realise the whole hospital will be watching?”

Reg flinched at the thought. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“I’ll have a word with Ted Pearson. I’ve no idea if he’s ever flown a kite before but I’m sure he’ll lend you moral support.”

“That would be great, if he would. No one could be scared with the Commodore alongside!”

*

The next morning, Reg was at the window to check the weather almost before his eyes were open. The sigh of relief he gave when he saw white clouds scudding across a blue sky was enough to launch a kite by itself. With scant attention to cleanliness, he washed, dressed and clattered down the stairs to hunt out the package containing his kite which was in the hall cupboard. Leaning it against the wall, he went through to the kitchen where he could hear voices.

Jack was sitting at the table eating his porridge while Anna spooned a large helping into another bowl for Reg.

“Thanks Anna! How did you know I was coming?”

“We both heard your size eights coming down the stairs! I don’t know how you can clatter in slippers. It must be a special talent.”

Jack grinned to take the sting from his words and Anna just gestured for Reg to sit down and get on with his breakfast, patting him on the shoulder as she placed the bowl in front of him.

With a murmur of thanks, he quickly made inroads into the porridge, just finishing as she placed two thick slices of toast on his side plate and Reg was soon disposing of them in short order.

Jack looked on with some envy as he drank his second cup of tea. He wasn’t that old, he thought, but the days had gone when he could eat with such impunity. For the umpteenth time, he made plans to take more exercise but a quick glance at the clock drove all such thoughts out of his mind and, stopping only to assure Reg he would phone once he had consulted his colleagues about the kite flying, he was out of the kitchen and they heard the front door slam as he left the house.

Anna cleared Jack’s dishes while Reg had another cup of tea and started to ladle porridge into smaller bowls as the unmistakeable sound of the triplet’s voices came nearer. They were followed by Jo and the two smaller ones and soon they were all settled at the table, Charles in his high chair and Steve raised up on cushions. Once they were all served, Anna sat down as well and began her own porridge.

“It looks a good day for kite flying.” Jo commented to Reg once she had the children all settled.

“I just hope the other Doctors and the Sisters agree to it.”

“I don’t think there’s any doubt of that. It’s just a matter of agreeing a time when nothing else is happening.”

“Can we go too?” Len paused with her s***n half way to her mouth.

“I’m not sure if you ‘can’, let alone ‘may’. When Papa phones, Reg may have to go in a hurry. We’ll have to see.”

“Me go too!” Charles waved his s***n, fortunately empty.

“Hey! Don’t wave your s***n like that. You’ll make a mess! We’ll have to see how much time we’ve got when Papa phones.”

Charles curled his lip and considered tears. One look at his mother’s face told him they would be wasted so he went back to eating his breakfast and there was silence for a few minutes. When they had finished, Jo took the smaller children off to wash their hands and settle them to their play while Reg and Anna cleared away and then Anna shooed Reg out of the kitchen while she washed up in peace.

Reg wandered into the drawing room and stood by the French doors, looking out onto the garden but seeing nothing. Although, living in a village, he had not been sheltered from the facts of life and had known people who had died but they had mostly been adults and old in his eyes. Anyway, they had never had the chance of the level of treatment he had heard about at the San.

There had been the occasional death of a baby but the talk in the village had always been of it being a blessing as it (and the dead baby was always referred to as ‘it’) would never have been well.

Like most young people, he had never really considered death for someone his own age or younger. Even when Jimmy had scarlet fever, once the Doctor had arrived, Reg had been confident that he would get better.

He remembered the shock he had felt when he realised that Phoebe was getting worse and would die if she didn’t get treatment. Doctor Jack had been so confident that day that they could help her if they got her into the San. They had, too! He hadn’t realised that the Doctors were not as sure as they seemed till Phoebe had told him herself on Saturday.

For the first time he faced the fact that Doctors were not all powerful beings. In a fit of honesty, he realised that they had never pretended to know everything. He just hadn’t wanted to listen when they talked of difficulties in treating various illnesses.

Did he really want to face the same frustration and heartache of trying to make people better and not always succeeding? Could he be strong enough to keep trying, even when it seemed hopeless? Could he even talk and smile to someone like Billy without letting on that he was upset? He hadn’t met him and didn’t want to for fear he couldn’t act naturally. That made him ashamed.

At some deeper level under all these thoughts was with a silent, never to be acknowledged, first realisation that, if other children could die, so could he.

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn’t hear the footsteps. Jo stopped a little way behind him, uncertain whether to speak. At this moment he looked so young, standing with his shoulders hunched and obviously so upset. She wondered again if they had done the right thing in yanking him out of his home surroundings and exposing him to such dilemmas.

Reg turned and saw Jo. His defences were down and, as she held out her arms, he almost fell into them, tears streaming down his cheeks. Jo knew what he was thinking. Her mind went back to the dreadful days when they had thought Robin was developing TB and the despair which had overtaken her. She remembered how badly she had treated Stacie and the impossibility of being cheerful around Robin herself. Part of that had been caused by her childish faith that Jem could keep Robin safe and the disillusionment with her hero worship of the all powerful Doctors at the San.

When he calmed down, she told him about that time, not sparing herself. It was all she had to offer in the way of comfort, just the confirmation that she did understand what he was going through.

“But you believed in God. Really believed, I mean. Didn’t you pray?”

“I think, in all honesty, I was more or less where you are now, though I was a little older.. I think whatever you are taught as a child, you have to work your own way through to Faith as you grow up. ‘When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things. For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face . . . ‘

You know you’ve already shown you can cope when you suggested flying your kite for them to see. You saw something you could do to help and offered it. That’s all any of us can do.

You’re young to be facing this but you’ll be stronger when you are grown up and, if you decide that being a Doctor is not for you, there are plenty of other careers where you can make a difference. Better not to be a Doctor than be unhappy. Just don’t decide too hastily.

Now, go and wash your face and paste a smile on your face. If you can’t feel happy, you can act it. You’d be surprised how often people have to do that!”[I]

With a final scrub of his eyes, Reg went off to wash his face and reappeared ten minutes later with a determined smile on his face.

“Better?” he asked with a slightly lopsided grin.

“Well done! Try and shelve it for the moment. Your mind will work it out for you if you concentrate on other things.”

[I]“Can I ask you something?” he paused and the grin became more natural. “I mean, may I.”

Jo returned the grin. “I was indoctrinated by Miss Annersley. Of course you may ask anything.”

Reg went slightly pink. “May I call you Auntie?”

“Of course. I’d wondered about suggesting it but felt it was up to you. Mrs Jo does sound a bit like something out of Dickens. Jack will be delighted to be Uncle as well.”

At this Reg looked rather alarmed. “I wouldn’t dare ask!”

“Well, I’ll warn him. He’ll feel more comfortable with it, I’m sure.”

“Thank you for helping. I’ll think about what you said.”

*


The phone rang, startling both Jo and Reg.

“Go on, answer it!” Jo exclaimed. “It’s sure to be Jack.”

Reg left the room at a run and she heard his side of the conversation as he had not stopped to close the door.

“That’s great, thanks. Yes, I’ll tell her. We’ll be ready.”

Reg slid on the polished floor as he hurtled back into the room and just caught his balance.

“Whoops! The Commodore has enough petrol and is coming down to collect us all in about half an hour. We’ll have to walk back though, so we need to take the pushchair. Is that all right?”

“You’ll have to give Steve a piggy back then. We can’t fit them both in now and there’s no way we can get the big pram in the car.”

“We could tow it behind.”

Jo laughed. “That would cause a stir in the village! You get yourself together and I’ll sort the children.”

Soon they were all in the car, Reg and the triplets in the back with Charles on Reg’s knee and Steve wedged between Ted and Jo in the front. Ted had seemed as pleased to see Reg as Reg was to see him again and owned to having flown kites in his childhood, much to Reg’s relief.

Soon they were all spilling out of the car in front of the main doors and Jo and the children went to join a knot of Doctors and other staff standing at the top of the steps as Ted and Reg set off across the grass to put the kite together. Ted exclaimed at the clever way the pieces screwed together and soon they were ready to fly.

For the first time, Reg looked up at the San and gulped. Every balcony was full and as he turned, he saw a sea of hands waving. He looked at Ted who was looking just as bemused as he felt.

“It seems this is the show of the month!” Ted exclaimed. “I’ll hold the kite while you run. It must be all of twenty years since I flew a kite! Well, here we go. Fair Winds, Reg!”

“That works as well for this as for sailing, doesn’t it! Just let go when I’ve gone about ten or fifteen yards and lift it as you do You’ll feel when it’s ready. The wind is just right. I’ll shout if I feel it’s lifting before you do.”

Now the moment was upon him, Reg forgot the audience in the thrill of flying and set off letting out the string. At least the grass was fairly even and, as he turned to run backwards the last few yards, he could already feel the tug as Ted held the kite high, sliding his hands down the side till he was holding only the bottom, his eyes intent on Reg.

“Now!”

All else was forgotten in the feel of the string vibrating and the sight of the kite catching the wind. It was almost as good as flying would be, piloting a small airplane in the clouds. His eyes fixed on the kite, Reg gradually let the string out till the kite was so high that he could start to send it in loops and it swept effortlessly through the sky swooping and soaring, his heart and his whole mind moving with it. The wind was perfect, not very gusty and just right. Reg felt he could have flown forever but he suddenly became aware of Ted standing beside him.

“I think you’d better think of bringing it down. You’ve been flying it for over thirty minutes and that’s probably long enough for the whole San to stop everything.”

Reg nodded and began to slowly reel in the string, carefully controlling the drop as Ted ran towards where it would land to catch it. It was as if they had rehearsed it and Ted caught the tail as it came within reach and was holding the kite safely as Reg came towards him, winding in the last of the string.

There was a moment’s giddiness as Reg came down to earth himself. Ted caught his arm and turned him towards the San to face the patients and staff, who were clapping and cheering. “Take a bow!” said Ted, and they both bowed and then walked over to the steps where a crowd of staff were waiting.

Reg was surprised at the interest shown in the kite and the number of staff who waxed nostalgic about flying them in their childhood and expressed a wish to repeat the experience. After a few minutes, Jack came across and rescued him with a promise to find out if it was possible for the boys at Polgarth to take orders and, if so, to let them know the price.

They joined Jo who had handed the boys over to staff who were happily taking them off to lunch, together with Margot and Con.

“Sister Clough has asked me if you will come onto the boys’ ward with the kite to show it to them. If you’d rather not, we’ll make the excuse that we need to get the little ones home.”

Reg was on the point of saying he would rather not when he thought again, realising that if he didn’t do this, he would always funk it. He set his shoulders and smiled.

“Will you come with me?”

“Yes. Len and I are both coming. Len insisted.”

With Len between them, holding their hands, they set off for the Ward.

Sister Clough greeted them warmly and led them into the main ward where the boys had been brought inside for dinner. There were fifteen boys on the ward, ranging from a small boy on crutches who Reg thought would be about Len’s age, though he was much smaller and very thin, to a boy in a plaster cast which appeared to cover most of his body and legs who Reg judged would be about his own age. About half of the boys were in wheelchairs, on crutches or walking with sticks and the beds of those who could not leave them were grouped together so everyone could see. There were Nurses dotted round the room, some sitting beside beds and some standing at the back.

The boys called greetings to Jo and Len, who were obviously well known and Len ran straight across to the smallest boy and sat on the chair beside him. Jo went to sit beside a boy lying face down on a plaster frame whose bed was turned head to foot so that he could see what was going on in the ward. She stroked his hair and he smiled at her. Reg guessed this was Billy. Jimmy looked flushed and animated and he and Reg exchanged a quick grin as Reg went to the middle of the room where everyone could see him.

Reg’s nervousness left him as he told the boys of his first attempts to make kites from twigs and old pillow ticking. The words seemed to flow as he told them about making kites at school and how they went up to the top field every Saturday, when the wind was good, to fly them. He explained how they now made the kites with screws so they could take them home for the holidays and more about his friend, Joe the shepherd, who flew kites with him in the holidays. His story was punctuated with tales of landing in brambles and ditches, climbing trees to rescue kites which had got stuck in branches and other incidents which livened the story. He took the kite round so that every boy got a good look at it and was able to touch it and finished by showing how it came apart for travelling and storage.

When he finally finished, there was a collective sigh before the boys clapped him. To his surprise, he found that he, Jo and Len were invited to stay for dinner with the boys and he accepted his plate of stew and went over to sit with Jimmy to eat it.

“That was great. You know, when I get out of here, I should be able to run and then I can join the Kite Club properly.” Jimmy said between mouthfuls. ”Thank you for coming.”

“You know me! Always looking for an excuse to fly and the wind was just right today. That big stretch of lawn is just the place to do it. When you come back, you can fly one of mine till you get one of your own made.”

“You know, I really don’t want to have to stay down a year when I get back. I suppose I’ll have to but it would be nice to stay up with my own crowd.”

“Why don’t you dig in at what you can do and then ask your parents to see if you could have coaching to help with things you are behind on. I started off well behind everyone else and I managed to catch up.”

Jimmy looked thoughtful. “Maybe I will.”

“You’ve nothing better to do – except grow that leg!” Reg returned and Jimmy laughed.

Reg turned to Billy who was in the next bed and noted that he had pushed his hardly touched plate away and had turned his head awkwardly to listen. His eyes took in the hollow cheeks and the eyes that looked too large for the face.

“Did you enjoy seeing the kite?” Reg asked, and was rewarded with a small smile.

“Yes. I remember seeing people flying them on Hampstead Heath when I was little. I always wanted to have one but I was too little then and I never got to have one.”

Reg moved his chair across so that Billy could see him more easily.

“Some of the Doctors have asked if we can make them kites at school so you may see more kites flying here soon. When you’re up, there’s no reason you shouldn’t start to learn with a small one till you can run again.”

[I] “I don’t seem to be getting any better.” Billy almost whispered.

“Well, you won’t get better if you don’t eat your food. You need all your strength to fight, you know.”

“I’m just not hungry.”

“You’re stomach has probably shrunk with not eating much.” Reg rejoined sagely with an assurance he didn’t really feel. “If you eat a little more each day. It will get used to food again. Tell you what. You eat a bit more now and, if Sister says you have been eating more, I’ll make you a kite and bring it down at Easter. Then you’ll have one ready for when you are well.”

For the first time, a light seemed to spark in Billy’s eyes. “I’ll try.” He pulled his plate back towards him and took a few more mouthfuls.

*



Although Auntie did not pry into what had happened over the weekend to effect a subtle change in Reg, she knew that he had, in some way, matured. She had enough faith in the Maynards now to realise that they were giving him something she was unable to.

She remembered that she had told Debby, that first summer they had met the Maynards how she felt like a chicken hatching a duckling. Now her duckling was swimming in deeper waters, shedding his baby feathers and growing strong adult ones. Soon he would be ready to fly and migrate to pastures new. Mr Hart had told her once that the same wild ducks came back, year after year to the reservoirs up on the moors. No one knew how they found their way back but somehow they recognised home. She could only hope Reg would do the same.

She chuckled inwardly, looking across at him on the other side of the railway carriage – his nose in a book as usual. She wasn’t usually given to flights of fancy but she resolved not to cluck like a silly chicken any more. The amount of travelling she had done in the last three years, she might even be turning into a duck herself!

Reg, while apparently deep in his book, was conscious of her gaze. He didn’t think he could tell her about Billy and how he had been upset about his prospects of recovery, not yet. Anyway, he was over that now, at least as far as anyone could be. Once he had got talking to Billy and seen him as a person, he had finally grasped why the Doctors couldn’t give up. He had also truly understood what Uncle Jack (strange how that name came easily after a few stutters) had meant in seeing the person not the illness.

He would be a Doctor and he would do his best. In the meantime, he would do what he could. He’d make Billy’s kite before Easter and, if he didn’t go to the Maynards at Easter, he would send it by post. It might not be much but it would be the best he could do.

*

“ A goo weeken, I thin.” Jo spoke indistinctly, through a ribbon, as she plaited her hair for the night.

“I don’t know why you have to hold the ribbon between your teeth. You could put it on the dressing table while you plait.”

Jo removed the ribbon and stuck her tongue out as she turned to Jack, who was already in bed. “Because I’ve always done it this way. If I don’t have the ribbon in my mouth, I get in a mess with the plait!”

Jack chortled. “I might have known you’d have your own unique reason for it!”

“It’s just as logical as you sucking on an empty pipe when you’re thinking!”

“Touché. And, yes it was.”

“Was what?”

“A good weekend of course! Can’t you remember what you said two minutes ago?”

Jo scowled, stood up and waved her hairbrush at him. “You’re just trying to wind me up!”

“You do rise so beautifully, I can’t resist it.”

They both started laughing and Jo climbed into bed and deliberately put her feet on Jack’s.

“Ow! I’d just got warm.”

“Cold feet, warm heart. Anyway, back to the subject. We got Reg through his current dilemma. He was really good with Billy and sees him as a person worth fighting for. He’s now calling us Auntie and Uncle. The children loved having him here and the patients at the San had a real treat watching the kite.”

“Not just the patients! It looks as if we’ll have orders for six kites for staff.”

“Reg is going to make one for Billy to keep till he is better.”

“Really?”

“Reg did a deal with him. If he eats more, he gets a kite at Easter. Sister Clough is to let Reg know.”

“That could make quite a difference to Billy. Part of his problem is weakness because he has no appetite. And that, of course is because he has lost interest in life. It’s a vicious circle. I’m glad Reg is calling us Auntie and Uncle. It should make him feel more part of the family. It’s odd. He’s half way in age between you and the triplets. I’m not sure which generation he belongs to really. Shall I put the light out? I’ve got to be in early tomorrow.”

*

Having resolved the question of where they should live, Hugh and Dorothy found themselves with a free weekend and made the most of it. They went for long walks each day and returned to the Lodge for the evening, relishing the privacy and the chance to sit quietly together by the fire, listening to the wireless, reading or chatting quietly before Hugh made his way reluctantly back to the school to sleep. When they returned to their duties, they both felt refreshed and even more, if it were possible, sure they were meant for each other.

The rest of half term sped by with trips to York, rambles and a final evening of fun up at Polgarth House, from which the younger boys walked home carrying lanterns.

Now it was the beginning of the second half of term and, as the big coaches swung into the driveway, all the staff were hoping for good weather and a lack of incidents. As Eric had remarked to John at half term “Boring would be good.”

*

The six inseparables quickly reported into the office and retired to their dormitory, ostensibly to unpack but really to catch up on one another’s news. They all had something to contribute except MacDonald. When they all looked expectantly at him, he flushed.

“I’ve got some news for you. When I’ve got my General Cert, I shan’t be staying on into the Sixth Form. You know I talked about wanting to design planes?”[I]

They all nodded.

[I]“I talked it over with my Dad and he talked to someone he knows. Provided, I get good results in Maths and Science, English Electric will take me on as an apprentice when I’m sixteen and pay for me to go to college. It’s what I really want to do and it will save two years school fees. You know there’s a lot of us so that will help with the little ones as they get older.”

There was a stunned silence as they took in what he had told them. Although they knew they would be split up when they left school, this brought the future much nearer.

“Good luck to you, if it’s what you really want. We’ll miss you but I’ve a feeling we won’t be together as much once we hit the Sixth Form anyway so it won’t be the same here anyway.”

As usual, it was Hanson who had thought things through quickly.

“Why won’t we be together?”

Copley, in some ways the youngest in outlook, looked upset at the idea of change.

“We’ll be specialising more and they’ll be tapping some of us to be Dormitory Prefects. Some of us will have to be Head of tables at meals as well, not to mention taking prep.”

“Don’t worry, Copley! We’ll still be friends, even if we get split up more and one of us has gone.” Reg said, in an attempt to reconcile Copley to the future. “We can write and we’ll always be friends even if we don’t see one another as often. Scotty will just be ahead of the rest of us.

“I don’t know where I will be this time next year. My Mother wants to go back to Greece now there have been elections and a referendum and the King is back in Athens. She is homesick and worried about my grandparents but my Father thinks they should wait because there is still some fighting in the mountains and he fears there will be more trouble yet. Mana says she won’t leave me behind again so I would have to go with them.” Fourakis looked troubled.

“Wouldn’t you want to go home?” Dixon asked, curiously.

Fourakis shrugged. “I haven’t been back to Greece for about six years, since the Italians invaded. I was only nine when I was last there and I hardly remember anything really. I’ve even forgotten most of my Greek.”

There was a moment’s silence as they all realised that the future would bring change, sooner or later.

“What will you do, Bubbles?” Copley asked. “You’ll stay for the Sixth Form, won’t you?”

Hanson nodded. “Pa wrote to Dr. Cartwright and he says I should get Matric at the same time as the rest of you. I want to go to Oxford to read Maths and, if they’ll take me early, I’ll leave at the end of Upper Sixth. If they don’t, Cambridge will, as Pa is there.”

“Why not go to Cambridge anyway?”

“No thank you. I’d rather make my own way. Everyone will compare me with Pa at Cambridge!”

“What about you, Entwistle?” Copley obviously wanted to know what everyone was going to do.

“Edinburgh for a degree and Medical School. If I can get Matric first time, I’ll leave at the end of Upper Sixth. If not, I’ll have a second shot at it. Once I’ve qualified, I’ll join the San down near Armiford, I expect.”

Hanson snorted. “You’ll get through. You’ve caught up with the rest of us and, if I get through, you will.”

“Thanks for the flowers! Anyway, what about you, Copley? Do you have any idea what you want to do?”

“I don’t really know. I just assumed I’d go on to University but I really don’t know what sort of work I want to do afterwards. What about you, Dixon?”

Dixon, inexplicably flushed. “I’m to stay here to get Matric and then … well, I think I know but I’d rather not talk about it till I’m sure, if you don’t mind.”

There was an uncomfortable silence for a moment and then MacDonald bounced off his bed where he had been sprawling against all rules.

“Come on then. Let’s make the most of the time we have got. The sun’s out. Let’s not waste it.”

The six cast off their serious discussion with some relief and followed him down the stairs to emerge into the sunlight without an apparent care in the world, letting the future take care of itself.

*

 

#6:  Author: patmac, Location: Yorkshire England PostPosted: Tue Apr 04, 2006 7:40 pm

The second half of term sped by at Polgarth. With better weather and the fact that everyone had had a whole week’s break from lessons, everyone felt more relaxed and, apart from a few minor upsets which were to be expected, the term went well.

Reg went to see Mr Jeffreys about the idea of selling some kites to the Doctors at the San and this resulted in the first formal meeting of the Kite Club which had, until now, been run rather haphazardly, though it had grown to fifty boys. Mr Jeffreys insisted that Reg should put the proposal to the Club himself, rightly thinking that, if it came from a member of Staff, it would be seen as a command, rather than a request.

Reg went to the front of the group, his knees knocking and faced them. Once he started, it wasn’t so bad and his enthusiasm for helping the boys at the San, carried him along.

“You’ll all remember Canning and you know he is in hospital having his leg lengthened and his spine straightened? He’s down at a big San in Armiford where Doctor Maynard, who’s paying for me to be here, works. I went down at Half Term and Miss Hatcherd asked me to take him his latest pack of school work and letters from his friends.

It’s a bit difficult to explain but when people are in hospital for a long time, and some of the boys on his ward have been there for a year or more, they get really down. Some of them are really ill and have been for ages. Imagine being in bed for a year and having nothing to look forward to! It must be awful. Anyway, I flew my kite where they could all see and they were ever so bucked up about it. All the patients in the hospital were out on the balconies to watch and six of the Doctors said they would like kites as they used to have them when they were young.

They’ll pay for them, of course, but we’d have to make them and I’ve no idea what we should charge if we do it. I said I’d ask so what do you think?”

To Reg’s relief, everyone agreed that they could make them and there was some enthusiasm for the idea but none of them had any idea what they should charge. Conversations broke out round the room and after a few minutes, Mr Jeffreys came to the front to stand beside Reg and clapped his hands for attention.

“The decision is yours but I can give you some information which will help you make up your minds. First, we can’t afford more time for the Kite Club than we already give it. Any time you spend making the extra kites will have to come out of your normal time.

Secondly, we shouldn’t sell them for less than three shillings each. At the moment, we get the metal for the frames and the cloth at less than market price but that may not last and we shouldn’t get ourselves into a position where we have to suddenly increase the price if we get more orders. I would suggest any profit we make goes into a fund to cover increases in costs later.

Thirdly, if we do get more orders, we could end up with a mini factory and you might not be so keen to spend your free time making kites for other people when you could be flying your own!

Lastly, but not least, if the Doctors are going to fly them for the patients to see, we would be doing a little bit to help sick people. You all know I’ve only got one leg now but what you probably don’t know is that I spent six months in hospital before I could even walk with crutches and it seemed like years. Perhaps Entwistle could tell us a little more about the boys on Canning’s ward?”

Reg took a deep breath. His experiences at half term were still a little raw and he wasn’t sure how to put it across to the boys who hadn’t been there.

“The ward Canning is on is an orthopaedic ward. That means that they deal with problems and diseases in bones. Some of them are there for things like Canning. He had a TB hip and his leg stopped growing. The TB has gone but it caused a lot of damage. They’re lengthening it by breaking the bone and stretching the gap a little at a time till the bone fills the gap. It takes six weeks to grow half an inch of bone so he’s strung up on a contraption to stretch it for about six months. He’s one of the lucky ones.

Some of them are really bad. They’ve still got TB in their bones and the doctors can’t cure it with medicine. They put them in plaster and keep them in bed to give it a chance to heal. Sometimes they are stuck in bed for over a year. In other cases they operate and remove parts of the bones. They get so they forget about the world outside and some of them don’t even get visitors because their parents can’t afford to visit or because they get too upset when thy do.”

Reg looked round the room. This wasn’t easy but everyone looked serious and was listening intently.

“Some of them may never get better unless some new medicines are discovered.”

He paused again, wondering how best to get this across and then said bluntly, “Some of them will die.”

There was a stir at this and then someone asked, “What about penicillin? I thought that was going to cure everything.”

Reg shook his head. “Only some things. Not TB.”

The discussion broke out again, possibly louder this time and the boys broke up into groups while Reg stood there, feeling slightly sick.

Morris, one of the Prefects came over to Reg. “Don’t worry, Entwistle. They’ll do it. It’s just a shock to a lot of them because they’ve never thought about it before. One of my cousins had TB in his hip and I’ve seen wards like that.”

Reg felt better and tried to ‘paste a smile’ on his face as Auntie Jo had recommended. “Thanks Morris. I wasn’t sure how much to say.” Reg leant against the wall and waited feeling a little shaky, partly due to having to stand up and speak to so many people but partly because he knew it could mean so much to the boys in the San.

Soon it was obvious that the boys had split into three groups, one with only five boys in it, and Mr Jeffreys clapped his hands again for attention.

“You seem to have sorted yourselves into groups according to your views. You have ten more minutes to sort it out. Then we want one person to from each group to give their views, and we vote. Otherwise we all miss tea.”

There was a ripple of laughter at this and the groups put their heads together again. Oliver Jeffreys and Mary Collins watched with interest as a leader appeared in each group and started to take control. Standing back from the boys, Oliver murmured to Mary. “Democracy in action. I’m assuming the groups are split by price. There was no dissent from the proposal or we’d have heard it at once.”

“Shall I go round and see what they’re saying?” Mary asked doubtfully.

Oliver shook his head. “I’d rather not get involved unless we have to. If they take the decisions, they’ll stick by them. Let’s see what they come up with. Look, some people are leaving that small group and going over to one of the others.. I think we’re near a decision.”

Shortly before the ten minutes was up, all the boys turned to face Mr Oliver.

“Everyone finished? Good, let’s hear from your spokesmen, please. We’ll start on my left.”[/]

*


Mary bounced into the Sitting Room at the lodge with a beam on her face. [I]“Hooray for the Kite club!” she exclaimed. [/I]“Is there any wine left?”[/I]

Although Dorothy was the only person to know the reason, all the women had felt concerned by Mary’s brittle brightness since the previous summer. It didn’t seem natural somehow but no one had had the nerve to broach the subject. As Stacie had said when they were discussing it, “It wouldn’t do to butt in.”

Dorothy had done what she could but the shell Mary had built round herself had been impervious and there had been nothing she could do that seemed to make a difference. She had debated with herself whether to tell the others of Mary’s tragic loss at the end of the War but Hugh had warned that the change in the others’ attitude might cause her to cut herself off even more.

“Remember how your father was when he came home. Everyone tiptoed round him and he just got worse. It wasn’t till he was ready to talk that he could let it out. Some people are just like that.”

Reluctantly, Dorothy had agreed and just watched, helplessly, while Mary continued to wall herself away from any comfort. Now, suddenly and unexpectedly, the old Mary was back.

Dorothy looked up from her sewing with what she hoped was a natural smile.

“We were just debating whether to open another bottle or two. Let me get them and don’t tell the tale till I get back or you’ll not get any!”

Flinging her sewing down on the arm of her chair as she leapt up, she collected another two bottles of wine from the kitchen and returned as fast as she could.

“That’s the last of the plum.” She commented as she opened a bottle. “We’ll have to beg some parsnip from Mrs Newby soon or we’ll have to stay sober. Do we have enough sugar saved to trade, Ivy?”

“We’ve got a few pounds but it won’t leave us enough to make elderflower wine this year. Even though we’ve all given up sugar in our tea, it doesn’t go far.”

Mary took a first sip. “This is great. Perhaps we could offer to go and hoe turnips or something in exchange for wine.”

Her colleagues laughed. “You might offer to do a bit of muck spreading!” Exclaimed Dorothy. “I shouldn’t think they get many offers of that! Anyway, tell us about the kite club.”

Mary wrinkled her nose.

“I might sign the Pledge if it comes to that! The boys came up trumps! Oliver handled it really well and he got Entwistle to tell them about why we’ve been asked to make the kites. It made a lot of difference that it came from one of them. Entwistle spoke really well and he didn’t pull his punches. You should have seen some of their faces when he said some of the boys would die. It was quite obvious that a lot of them have never had contact with serious illness.

The main discussion was about price. Oliver’s keen that we don’t get into a position of having to subsidise them for the Doctors and warned them they could end up running a factory if we got lots of orders!

The short story is that they want to know if there is anything else they could do to help the boys and they’ve gone away to think about it. Didn’t that school you two went to do something to help a local hospital?”

She looked at Dorothy and Stacie who exchanged glances and Stacie gestured to Dorothy to answer first.

“It’s the same San! They had to get out of Austria at the Anschluss just as the school did. The School’s founder married the Head of the San so we had a natural connection.”

Stacie picked up the story. “We even had an annexe up near the San for delicate children. I spent some time there myself after I hurt my back.”

Dorothy saw Stacie blush at the memory and, knowing the story of how she came to be injured, jumped in.

“Isn’t this San rather a long way away? We used to run a sale in the summer where we sold things we’d made in Hobbies Club and the Staff from the San used to come to it so it was more real to us.”

“I’m not sure it would matter that much so long as there was regular contact.” Stacie said, thoughtfully. “There isn’t anywhere near here that would fit the bill. Where’s the nearest San? Does anyone know?”

“Grassington, I think.”

“Well, there you are. It must be all of thirty miles away so it’s an expedition in itself. They’ve got a link with Canning and, of course with Entwistle as he’s made the connection already. I think if you tried to change what they want to do, it would lose the momentum. If that’s what they want to do, let them”

“I’ll tell Oliver what you said. He’ll have to talk to Eric anyway but we might start something small, perhaps a stall at Sports Day. Aren’t you going down at Easter, Dorothy? Perhaps you could mention the idea to Dr Maynard.”

“We’ll see how it goes between now and then. If there’s a real proposal between now and Easter, Hugh and I will certainly talk to them. I’m sure you and Oliver will get something moving if anyone can.”

*


“You’re up early!”

Stacie jumped, nearly dropping the cup she was taking from the cupboard.

“Early yourself! You nearly gave me a heart attack then.”

Mary grinned. “That’s just your guilty conscience.”

“My conscience is clear. What’s your excuse for being up before dawn on a Sunday?”

“There was a fox calling and it got all muddled up in my dream and I just woke up. I knew I wouldn’t get back to sleep so I thought I’d have a bite to eat and go for a walk as soon as it’s light. It’s going to be a lovely day. What about you?”

“I must have slept awkwardly and my back got stiff.” Seeing Mary’s concern, Stacie added quickly, “It’s not bad, just stiff. If I move around a bit, it will go off.”

“Come for a walk then, if it won’t be too much for you. I’m only going down as far as the river and back by the lane and I’ll be ambling along.”

“I’d like that. I don’t think I’m doing enough walking at the moment.”

“Probably because you’ve always got your head in a book. You really should take more care of yourself.”

With long practice of working together in the small kitchen, Mary ducked round Stacie and cut and buttered two thick slices of bread while Stacie poured the tea. They sat at the small table and Mary immediately drank half her tea.

“That’s better, I needed that! You know, I’ve got so used to tea without sugar I don’t think I’ll go back to it when rationing’s over.”

“That’s not likely to be any time soon.” Stacie sighed. “Everything seems to be getting worse. They’re talking about rationing bread now.”

“At least we’re lucky here having the farm. We may go short of tea and sugar but we get a good supply of meat and vegetables and we hardly ever have to use dried eggs. Come to that, we’d be eating bread and marge this very minute.”

“I know. We’re jolly lucky and we’re not likely to go hungry.” Stacie popped the last piece of bread in her mouth and took the cups to the sink to rinse. “I’ll put the cosy on the teapot. There’s enough left for one more if anyone else gets up soon.”

They set off just as the first glimmer of dawn was lightening the sky to the east, walking quietly down the School drive and crossing to the stile on the other side of the lane.

“We’ll have to leave the footpath and go across the fields a bit. Mr Goddard has sheep lambing in the next field. We wouldn’t want to disturb them.”

Stacie looked curiously at her companion. “You sound as if you come down here often.”

Mary nodded. “I often wake early and I can’t lie in bed. It’s better to be up and out. Especially since … ”

There was an awkward silence and then Stacie said, diffidently,

“Don’t tell me if you’d rather not but we’ve all been aware something happened last year.”

“My brother. He was in a Japanese Prisoner of War camp. He died after he was released.”

Stacie caught her breath. “That’s terrible. No wonder you didn’t want to talk about it.”

“I couldn’t. I don’t think I could have gone on if I had. I know everyone thinks I’m just a rather bubbly and over excitable person but, when things hit, I just clam up.”

“I know what you mean. Not the bubbly bit! I’ve never been like that but I do tend to keep things to myself. I’m not sure it’s a good thing but “ she shrugged. “we’re all different. If it’s how we’re made then that’s how we are.”

They walked on in silence for a while, passing through a gate into another field to avoid the ewes, disturbing some rabbits who hopped away in a hurry, their scuts showing white in the early light. Stacie looked round appreciatively.

“I’ll miss this.”

“Why? Are you leaving?” Mary stopped short and Stacie nearly tripped over her.

“You knew I always intended to go back to Oxford.”

“Yes, but you sound as if you mean to go soon.”

“I’m going back this summer. The permanent Classics Master is waiting his demob and he’ll be back after Easter so we’ll have one term working together before I go.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

Stacie shrugged. “It’s not for a while yet. I didn’t really want to get into playing ‘this is the last time that … ‘ whatever I happen to be doing for two whole terms.”

“I wish you weren’t going. I’ll really miss you even though I know its what you want. You’ll stay for the wedding, I hope.”

“Definitely! It’s funny, I didn’t really know Dorothy well at school but I feel I’ve got close to her since she came here. Hugh’s a great bloke as well.”

“If Dorothy wasn’t so nice, I’d be jealous. It’s amazing how well we all get on, you know, living cheek by jowl as we do. That means we’ll have two spare rooms at the Lodge in September. It will seem strange.”

Stacie had already given this some thought. “I wouldn’t count on it. They’re still talking of expanding, you know.”

“You’re right. Now Sir Julian is coming to live here, I’ll bet he keeps pushing them to as well.”

“True. He may talk of rusticating but I’ll bet he finds something to turn his hand to. He’s not the sort to sit around.”

“He’s not. He’s keen for the school to succeed and he really does have a long view. He’s so nice with it as well.”

Stacie cast a sidelong glance at her companion. There was a warmth in Mary’s voice that made her wonder.

“I’ve hardly spoken to him but he seems nice enough.” She said noncommittally.

“He’s another early morning walker. We run into one another sometimes and walk together. We talk about all sorts of things. He’s really easy to talk to.”

They walked on down to the river’s edge, arriving just as the sun showed over the hills and sat on the old tree trunk, watching the light play on the water, each wrapped in her own thoughts.

Stacie, though she would have found it difficult to show, was touched at the genuine regret the younger girl had shown at the news of her departure. She would be sorry to leave Polgarth and the friends she had made. Although she had made friends at the Chalet School, she had always felt different and stood slightly apart. Here, she had started with a clean slate and made friends on her own terms.

For a few moments she allowed herself to bask in the warmth of their friendship and determined not to let them slip away.

As if she had read Stacie’s thoughts, Mary suddenly spoke.

“Oxford’s not that far away, you know. You will keep in touch, won’t you?”

“Yes, I’ll do that.” Said Stacie, meaning it sincerely.

 

#7:  Author: patmac, Location: Yorkshire England PostPosted: Tue Apr 04, 2006 7:42 pm

Hugh walked across the playing fields down towards Chaucer House, revelling in the spring sunshine. Many of the boys were making the most of the dry weather, playing impromptu games of rugger or soccer and one optimistic group were practicing in the nets, though cricket would not start officially till after Easter.

He winced as he saw a boy go down under a particularly hard tackle. He was up again in a moment and Hugh recognised MacDonald, looking none the worse for his tumble, apart from the mud on his shirt and shorts.

Seeing MacDonald caused him to look round for the rest of the Inseparables and he saw Hanson’s instantly recognizable mop of blond curls up the hill by the old tree trunk with Dixon and Fourakis. Copley was bowling in the nets and he idly wondered where Entwistle had got to. Then he saw the unmistakable lanky figure on the running track. He might have guessed where he would be.

Dorothy was waiting, perched on the gate to Home Farm and they set off hand in hand to walk up to check the state of work on the cottages. Sir Julian had gone down to London for a few days on business and had asked them to check on progress, leaving strict instructions to phone him if things were not moving along.

Things were ‘moving along’ but they appeared, at the moment, to be going backwards. All the windows had been removed, as had the gutters and downpipes. There was scaffolding round the chimneys and part of the front fence had been torn down to ease access for deliveries of building materials.

Round the back, there were two enormous holes, ready for the septic tanks and trenches ready to put in footings for the bathroom extensions. The whole site was littered with stone, piles of sand and several bags of cement lay under an old tarpaulin. Peering through the openings where the windows should be, they could see plasterless walls and ceilings and the kitchen floors had been dug up to allow pipes to be laid to the sink and back boiler.

“Goodness! It looks like a demolition site. Do you really think it will be ready by the end of July, Hugh?”

“This is the worst bit. Once they start fitting the new windows and get some plaster on the walls, it will go forward quite quickly. I’ve some doubts about whether any of the plants will survive though.”

“I think a few of the shrubs will but it needs a good dig over anyway. The weeds will be a nightmare to dig out.”

“There’s one good thing. If we’re starting from scratch, I can help you dig without worrying about grubbing up the wrong things.”

“You’ll soon learn, dear. I’ll show you.”

“H’mm. I’ve not forgotten my first attempt at weeding when I took out a whole row of carrots! I thought Mr Newby was going to burst a blood vessel.”

Dorothy laughed at his rueful expression. “Mrs Newby has told me about it – several times. I don’t think she could quite believe that anyone had never seen carrots growing before.”

“It’s funny enough now but I was very new then and I felt a right fool. I just wanted the ground to open up and swallow me.”

“Poor you! I shouldn’t laugh. I’d probably get in a fix if I tried to get around London on the Underground. I’ve seen pictures of the moving staircases and they look petrifying.”

“True enough, I forget you’ve never been to London. We ought to go, perhaps in the summer and I can show you the sites.”

“I’d love to. Will you show me where you lived?”

Hugh hesitated. “I’m not sure I could face going back there. When I heard my mother had died, I went back and the whole street was gone. They never found any trace of Mum. It was a direct hit on our house.”

Dorothy put her arms round him and held him close. “That’s all right. I think I’d feel the same. You never told me anything about her and your childhood, you know. When you can, I’d like to know more. Just, when you’re ready.”

“I don’t even have a snap of her.” Hugh’s voice broke. “I wish she could see us now. She’d be so proud and pleased. She’d have loved to meet you.”

“She does know. I’m quite certain of that.”

“I wish I had your faith.”

“It’s not just faith. I can’t believe people are just snuffed out and are nothing when they die. You know that verse from the First World War –

‘They shall not grow old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.’ “

Hugh nodded, intent on her words.

“It’s only a small part of a longer poem. The last verse goes –

‘As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain;
As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,
To the end, to the end, they remain.’

Hugh reached in his jacket pocket and pulled out his wallet. Inside was a folded and well worn piece of paper.

“I keep this because it helped me. A WAAF gave it to me.”

Silently he held the small square out to her and she read the words aloud.

“Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glint on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you wake in the morning hush,
I am the swift, uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft starlight at night.

Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there, I do not sleep.
Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there, I did not die!”

Carefully folding the paper, she handed it back to him and he replaced it in his wallet.

“I wish I could do that lovely script that is good enough to frame. I think we should have that somewhere in our home. I wonder if your Mum and Tom are watching us now.”

“I hope so.”

*



“ What’s Hugh like really? I know he was burned in the war, poor chap. The triplets still call him ‘Reg’s Pirate Teacher’ because of the eye patch. You reckon he really doesn’t mind?”

Jack looked up from his newspaper.

“I think you’ll like him. He doesn’t seem to let his problems bother him at all. It’s a bit of a shock when you first see him, though. One side of his face is scar from the hairline, in fact a bit above, and down at least to his collar, by the amount of scarring, he must have lost one eye completely but he’s chosen to stay with an eye patch. Mind you, I would guess he’s right because, if the socket is as bad as I suspect, a false eye would look most artificial. He’s got a slight limp as well, though I don’t think most people would notice it. John Wheeler says he was a Spitfire pilot and spent a long while at East Grinstead. That’s the burns unit, you know. A brilliant man, Archie McIndoe, is doing amazing work there. He’s experimenting to help the poor blokes and he’s had amazing results.

It’s odd how you don’t notice the scars after a few minutes. He ignores it so thoroughly that you just forget it. The triplets liked him and I’ll back the opinion of small children any day. They see through any pretence! As for being called a pirate, Reg says he played the part in a pantomime so I don’t think he’s in the least bit offended. I’ve been trying to remember Dorothy, though and I just can’t place her.”

“She joined the same year as Hilary when St Scholastika’s closed, though she came straight from England. She’s younger than me and I never got to know her well, except one holiday when she stayed with us to have Italian conversation classes with one of the Italian Doctors. She was frightfully good at languages but nothing to look at. Not that I was, of course, but I stood out because of my height and black hair. I remember her as sallow, with mousy hair. The thing you did notice was an enormous pair of glasses! Robin liked her, I remember. Of course Hilary tells me I’m sadly outdated and she’s quite chic and confident now.”

“Well, we’ll know tomorrow. I think you were right to put Reg off till after they’ve left. Even though he says Hugh is his favourite Master, I think it would have been a bit much on both sides to have him here as well.”

“Dorothy sounds quite the career woman, not at all how she was at school. I don’t think she’d have said boo to a goose then. I’m wondering what she’ll think of me.”

Jack looked surprised.

“Why ever? That doesn’t sound like you.”

“I don’t know, really. I suppose it’s because she went to college and has a career.”

“Hilary and Simone went to college. You’ve never felt like that with them. What about Margia and all your other friends? ”

“I know and I’m just being silly. I’m only telling you how I feel.”

“What about your writing? That’s something none of the others have done. That’s as much a career as any.”

“I love having the children and I wouldn’t change that for anything but, even with Anna’s help, I don’t really get much time I can put aside for that, not hours at a time, which is what it needs to get anywhere.”

Jack flung his newspaper aside and sat upright in his chair. “I didn’t realise. Why didn’t you say something?”

Jo shrugged. “It’s just one of those things. Anna works hard enough as it is. I can’t ask her to do more. I’ll get back to it one day when they’re all at school.”

“That’s not good enough, Jo. Tell me what you need and we’ll organise it if we possibly can.”

Jo blinked rapidly. “I feel so bad about bothering you with it. You work so hard and what you do is so much more important that just writing children’s stories.”

“Not necessarily.” Jack said, thoughtfully. “Have you been onto the boys’ orthopaedic ward recently?”

“Not since half term. You remember, the children had colds, one after another and I didn’t dare risk it. Why?”

“Then you’ve not seen young Billy. Mr Wilkinson called me in to look at his X-rays. I don’t think he believed it himself till he had someone else look. He’s eating better and putting on some weight. The X-rays show the lesions in his spine are definitely decreasing and he hasn’t had an abscess erupt since half term. The only thing that seems different is that he desperately wants the kite Reg promised him.”

Jo forgot all about her worries. “Truly?”

Jack nodded emphatically. “Honestly. It’s early days yet but Wilky is cautiously optimistic. There’s no medical reason for the improvement, apart from the fact that he’s eating more which is improving his resistance generally. What I’m getting at is that if the promise of a kite can do that much good, you shouldn’t knock the value of a good story! Now, what can we do to get you writing again?”

“Would you mind if I disappeared sometimes in the evenings?”

“Of course not. Do you mind when I bring work home? Come on, be honest.”

“Not most of the time. I know you have to but I never know when it’s going to happen or how long it’s going to take you. So, I tend to just sit and knit or mend clothes and wait for you.”

“I didn’t realise. What if we set aside a couple of evenings each week for us and then the rest of the time we take it as we can. If you need to write, you do and, if I have to work, I do. Some of the other chaps can pick up some of the slack so we do get two evenings. Come to think of it, I should pass some of it over anyway. It just seems easier to do it than to explain what I need done. What else do you need?”

”I’d like to turn that box room near our bedroom into a study for me. I do need to be alone when I write. It’s stacked high with boxes, though.”

“We’ll stick them in the garage then. I never put the car away in any case.”

“Oh, Jack, thank you. I’ve got so many stories nibbling at my ankles and I thought I was just being selfish!”

“Like ferrets? It sounds most painful.”

“Not that bad.” She returned with a grin. “More like bunny rabbits.”

*

“I’m really glad you asked Charles to be your best man.” Dorothy leaned back in her seat as the express train pulled out of York. “I’m sorry you haven’t managed to trace Mike but you couldn’t really have left it any longer or Charles would have guessed he was second choice.”

“I don’t know quite why I was so keen on having Mike, except that he was the first person I told about us. He must be back in the States by now so there’s no way he could have come all this way in any case. I wish you had met him though. I don’t know what it was but he lifted me at a time when I was very insecure. Charles is much more suitable anyway. He is really my closest friend and at least he’s not likely to pull a mad stunt at the wedding!”

“Perhaps you’ll meet Mike again some day. Stranger things do happen. I certainly never expected to see Stacie again and there she was at Polgarth!”

“That’s England though. America is another country.”

“Not so, as it happens! The last time I saw her was in Austria. Come to that, it’s the last time I saw Jo was that awful day when she and the others had to escape over the mountains. Does my hair look all right?”

Hugh looked blank. “Of course it does! It always looks lovely. Why do you ask.”

Dorothy blushed and looked embarrassed. “Jo was always so full of life when I knew her and I was just a mousy little thing. I’m surprised she even remembers me. I suppose I’m a little shy of seeing her again. She’s quite a successful author you know.”

“That’s not like you!”

“It’s silly isn’t it, It’s how I feel, though.”

“The last thing she’s going to think is that you are a mousy little thing! You’re a smart, intelligent woman and you look lovely. I wouldn’t call your hair mousy anyway. It’s got golden lights in it.”

“I think it’s gone fairer since I spent more time out of doors. The sun bleaches it a bit. Just at the moment, I feel mousy, though!”

Hugh crossed the carriage from his window seat and put his arm round his shoulder. “Come on, love. You don’t feel like this about Hilary or Stacie. You’re making Jo sound quite scary.”

“She’s not and you’ll really like her. Her sense of humour matches yours.”

“I’ll bet she couldn’t quell Lower Four like you can.”

“I’ll be all right.”

Hugh dropped a kiss on the top of her head and went back to his own seat.

“I’ll bet she can’t wring a chicken’s neck, either!”

Dorothy laughed. “I’m not likely to get the chance to boast of that particular skill this weekend!”

*



“Where is everyone?” Jo emerged from the Drawing Room as Dorothy came down the stairs. “I popped Charles down for a nap then came back and found the Marie Celeste.”

“Jack has gone with the triplets and Steve to show Hugh the chickens. I just went for a hankie.”

“I might have guessed. I just hope he’ll be impressed!”

“Probably not that much. He’s a real townie but I’m working on it.”

“Let’s get five minutes to ourselves then. I’m sorry we didn’t have time yesterday but it does get a bit hectic with five children.”

“I can imagine! And you’re the girl who was never going to marry, as I remember.”

“That was before I grew up. I think I was a bit slow in that department.”

“It’s funny how it all works out, isn’t it. The last time I saw you was just before you escaped from Austria. Then I didn’t hear anything for a couple of years till Hilary got in touch. She’d found my address in an old diary.”

“We lost a lot of the records when we left Austria. Jem insisted a lot of them were burnt so the Nazis wouldn’t get them. I think he was the only one who saw just how far Hitler might go. People have got in touch in dribs and drabs by one means or another but we still don’t know anything about a lot of the European girls.” She sighed. “It’s still a mess over there and not likely to get better any time soon. Anyway, worrying about it won’t change things.

I think it’s going to be a fairly hectic weekend. Mlle Berne is coming this afternoon and Phoebe who is helping her will come as well so they’ll be sticking pins in to you for hours if I know them. Then I know you want to go and see Jimmy tomorrow. He’ll be thrilled to see you. Tell me about your wedding plans while we’ve got the chance.”

“It will be a very quiet affair. There will be some friends from the village and the school, of course. Hugh has no family at all and I’ve only my Mum and Dad. You know my brother was killed?”

“Yes, Hilary told me. I’m so sorry. It must have been so awful coming right at the end like that. She told me Hugh’s mother was killed in an air raid, too. Doesn’t he have anyone?”

“No. He was an only and he doesn’t seem to know of any cousins or anything. Oh, and Aunt Gertrude will come. She’s a sort of Great Aunt actually and she provided the silk. I was so thrilled. I thought I would just wear an ordinary dress, you know.

Jo nodded. “Mlle Berne says the silk is superb quality and she was so excited to be able to make a wedding dress again, especially for one of her favourite pupils. I’ve always loved languages myself but you beat me hands down there. In fact, your Aunt Gertrude is lucky she didn’t deliver it herself! She’d have been subjected to a double kiss and a torrent of French as Hilary was! She hasn’t had the chance to work with such lovely material since we left Austria and I think it has almost hurt her, she’s missed it so. I’m sure you’ll be thrilled with it and, as for the embroidery! Phoebe does exquisite work. I’d never have the patience myself.”

“Who is Phoebe? Hilary mentioned her and I’ve been racking my brains trying to remember her.”

“She wasn’t at school with us. In fact, we only met her about three years ago. She lived in Garnham where Reg comes from. They are close friends and a very unlikely couple they make too as you’ll see this afternoon. We have a cottage up there and we, that’s Frieda. Simone, Marie and I, were staying for the summer. She lived across the lane and had inflammatory rheumatism and she was taken ill while Jack was staying with us. He brought her down here and she got so much better that she ended up marrying one of the Doctors and is settled here now. She’s so much part of the family now that we tend to forget that we’ve known her such a short time.”

“That explains it! I somehow assumed she was a girl from school I had forgotten.”

“Well, now you know your memory isn’t playing tricks. Hilary is very excited at being Maid of Honour, you know and she’s working so hard at rebuilding her life. Something like that will help. It was nice of you to ask her.”

“She’s my oldest friend. I lost touch with most of the friends I had at school in Leeds when I came out to Austria and afterwards, well, Dad went in the Army and Tom in the Air Force and I left Training College and came home to help Mum with the shop.”

Jo nodded. “I’ve heard all about the shop from Reg. It was like fairyland to him. You’re being married in the School Chapel, I hear.”

“Yes. Mum fell out with our local Vicar at the beginning of the War because he turned out to be anti-Jewish. I gather she gave him a piece of her mind and we’ve not been back since. Some of it probably comes from me telling her about what happened in Spartz but she might well have done it anyway. Polgarth is our home now and we’ve both made friends in the village as well at school. Mum and Dad visit quite a bit and I wouldn’t be surprised if they retire there, especially if we start having children. Dad’s a lot better but he still gets tired and Mum worries about him. You know he was injured in the War and lost an arm?”

“Hilary told me. She’s very fond of your parents you know. She’s also told me about your mad Aunt Gertrude!”

“Being told isn’t the same as experiencing when it comes to Aunt Gertrude! She’s the maddest and sanest person I know.”

“She sounds fun! Now back to the weekend. Most of the staff are away from the school but we’re to try and get over and see Miss Annersley for tea on Monday. She’s another one who whooped for joy that you were coming down.”

“I can’t imagine Miss Annersley whooping!”

“Perhaps I exaggerated just a tiny, tiny bit but she was insistent on seeing you and meeting Hugh. She didn’t have an easy War in lots of ways and she’s always thrilled when we find an old girl again. Hugh will probably be interested in seeing another school as well, since he’s ‘in the trade’ so to speak. There’ll be a few other people around I expect, including Bill.”

“That would be great. It will seem strange seeing the School somewhere other than the Chalet, but I’d like to see them and I’d love them to meet Hugh.”

“Shall we walk down and catch up with the others and rescue Hugh from the chickens?”

“Let’s do that. We keep chickens at home and we’ll certainly have them when we’re married. I’d like to see your garden as well.”

“There’s not a lot out yet, the weather’s been so bad but what there is you shall see I’ll just ask Anna to keep and ear out for Charles.”

Chatting comfortably, they fetched their coats from the hall cupboard and slipped on shoes before strolling down the garden to the chicken run, Dorothy exclaiming about how much farther ahead the garden was than the Yorkshire ones. When they arrived at the end of the garden, it was too find Hugh and Jack deep in conversation about cars while the children played hide and seek in the entanglement of bushes and trees which ended the long patch. Jo noted that Hugh’s face lit up when he saw Dorothy and, glancing sideways, saw the answering smile on his fiancée’s face as he stepped to her side and linked his arm with hers.

“Look, darling. They’ve got bantams. Aren’t they sweet.”

Dorothy saw two large enclosures of chicken wire, each with a coop at the end and in one were no less than ten bantam chickens, pecking around busily, while the other contained six bigger birds.

“Banties! What a good idea. Their eggs will be perfect for the little ones.”

“That’s what I thought. To be honest it was suggested by one of the women in the village and she gave me some day old chicks. There’s not as much meat on them when it comes to it but we can fit more in the pen so there’s always enough eggs for the children and a few over. The children love them as well. At first the triplets were in tears when we killed one but they’ve accepted it now.”

“Not a bad lesson for them to learn early.” Commented Dorothy. “The first ones we had, Mum and I named. Now that was a mistake!”

“Thank goodness I had Auntie’s advice when we got ours. She warned us about that. Mind you, she’d have had us with a pig as well. She does love her pigs and Jack feels a bit nostalgic about the idea as well for he was brought up on a farm. As for Anna! Well she still mutters about the idea from time to time. It took some fast talking on my part to knock that idea on the head. I think we’ve all got enough to do without running a smallholding.”

“Auntie? Would that be Mrs Thirtle?” Hugh asked.

“Yes. Have you met her?”

“Young Entwistle started the same term as I did and she brought him to Leeds Station and I spoke to her then. She was with Jack and the triplets at Sports Day one year as well.”

“So she was! I’d forgotten that. She’s lovely. She’s done so well by Reg.”

“Do you think we could have some bantams, when we set up our chicken run, love? They are rather nice.”

“You mean not so scary as the big ones.” Dorothy teased him. “Just so long as you don’t cry when they have to go in the pot! I can’t have you calling me a murderer.”

“I’m not that bad! I’ve even watched you do it.”

“The first time was the day you proposed.”

“Before or after?” asked Jack with a laughing look at Jo.

“Before, of course!” Hugh retorted. “Then, after seeing what she could do, I was too scared to break it off.”

Jo wrinkled her nose and threw a punch at Jack’s arm. “If we didn’t have Anna, I’d learn but it doesn’t bother her a bit so there’s no need.”

Jo and Jack looked at Hugh and Dorothy in amazement as they both burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Jo asked plaintively.

They hastily pulled themselves together. “Sorry! I fell apart with nerves at meeting you again and Hugh comforted me by saying he didn’t think you would have pulled a chicken’s neck.”

Jack looked at Jo and they leant against one another laughing while Hugh and Dorothy looked blank in their turn.

“I was just as nervous.” Jo responded between giggles. “Hilary said you were chic and confident and I was feeling very housewifely.”

They all laughed again, till the triplets ran over demanding to know what was funny.

“It was just the grownups being silly, darlings. Shall we all play hide and seek for a little while?”

The triplets forgot their queries in the excitement of the game that followed.

 

#8:  Author: patmac, Location: Yorkshire England PostPosted: Tue Apr 04, 2006 7:52 pm

And finally ..... an update Razz



After lunch, Mlle Berne and Phoebe arrived, driven by Frank, and, once Mlle had got over the delight of seeing Dorothy again, the four women disappeared to Jo and Jack’s big bedroom for Dorothy’s fitting. Jo insisted that Phoebe sit in her big armchair by the window and Mlle unpacked the precious dress from it’s wrapping of tissue paper and laid it on the bed.

Dorothy caught her breath. “It’s beautiful. Oh! Look at those lovely roses! They look as if they are part of the fabric. Phoebe, did you really do those? They must have taken ages.”

Phoebe’s eyes danced. “I love needlework and working on such lovely material is an added pleasure. Julie and I have had some very happy sewing parties making it.”

Mlle Berne nodded. “We have both enjoyed doing it. Now, if you are going to cry, Dorothy, just get it over with now. We don’t want tears on the material, cherie.”

At that, Dorothy laughed and mopped her eyes. “Sorry. I knew it would be lovely but it just took my breath away.”

Quickly, she removed her frock and Jo and Mlle helped her step into the dress. “We’ve not done the fastenings yet, till we have checked the fitting so I will just pin it at the back for now. Turn round now while I do that. The seams over the bust and the back one are just tacked although Hilary insisted she had measured twice.”

“Measure twice, cut once!” Chanted Jo and Dorothy in unison.

Mlle Berne wagged her finger at them, though she was laughing. “I’m glad you remembered it!”

Dorothy obediently turned while the back was pinned and then Mlle shook out the hemline, took her by the shoulders and turned her to face the mirror. Dorothy hardly recognised the woman staring back at her and raised her hand to her cheek, looking bemused as the stranger copied her gesture.

The silk was a warm white which lifted the colour in her face and her delight at the dress added a soft glow to her cheeks. The neckline was lower than any she had worn before but the delicate lace softened the deep curve which could have left Dorothy feeling rather exposed and the small cap sleeves of lace, complemented the neckline.

Clever cutting and hours spent patiently sewing of each dress length seam had produced a dress which clung down to the hips and then flared out to give an illusion of fullness.

Mlle checked the fit with great care. “Hilary measured well. I do not think we need to adjust anything. Do you agree, Phoebe?”

“I don’t think anything could be improved. You look lovely Dorothy! It was a clever choice of design. Do you often wear this style?”

“Yes. I feel comfortable in it. I really don’t like things tight round my waist and gathers are out of the question anyway with the shortage of material these days and I’m useless in a straight skirt. My stride is not exactly ladylike and I split the seams.”

“You will need to get some sun on you between now and July. This neckline is lower than you are used to and the sleeves shorter.” Said Mlle Berne, pointing to the line where Dorothy’s light tan ended.

“I’ll do that. I’ve an old blouse I can change to this neckline and if I take the sleeves out completely, it will do the trick. All we need is a good spring and summer!”

“Now put on the shoes you will be wearing so we can pin the hem to the right length. Then we just have that and three more seams to do and the fastenings to deal with. Jo has found ten little pearl buttons so we can have a long gusset at the back and it will be easier to put on and take off on the day.”

“One moment, before you start.” Jo came forward with a tissue wrapped package. “This is my wedding veil. It has been handed down and Simone and Phoebe both wore it for their weddings. If you don’t have one already, I’d love you to wear it. It can be your ‘something borrowed’ and your ‘something old’ at the same time.”

The veil was of fine lace and, as Dorothy took it in her hands, it felt weightless. “It’s beautiful and so light!. Are you sure Jo?”

“I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t. Let us put it on you to see the full effect.”

She lifted the fine lace and draped it over Dorothy’s hair, securing it with two hair grips.

“Sorry they’re black but they are all I have. You just need a wreath of flowers to finish it off.”

“Mum is nursing her roses along and we’re hoping to have creamy white ones for the bouquet with, perhaps some pale pink as well so, if the weather is kind, I should be able to have a wreath of them as well.”

Reverently, Dorothy removed the veil and handed it back to Jo. “Thank you Jo. I shall wear it with pride.”

“I hope you’ll be as happy as I am, dear.” And she carefully folded the precious lace and laid it in the tissue paper.

“Now let us decide on the length.” Mlle donned a wristband with her pincushion attached. “Do you wish it to be as long as possible or do you have a favourite length?”

“I think about mid-calf.” Dorothy looked in the mirror again.

“Good. If you have it any longer there is a danger of it looking as if we attempted full length and didn’t have enough material.”

“I didn’t want full length, anyway.” Said Dorothy with a chuckle. “I had a nightmare of tripping over the hem half way down the long aisle. That’s the only drawback of the School Chapel. It is enormous and with only a few people there it will be a little strange and rather a lonely walk.”

Still looking in the mirror, she didn’t see the quick grins exchanged by the other three women. Mlle knelt down and turned up the hem at the front to mid calf.

“To here? Or a little longer?”

“What do you think?” Dorothy asked Jo and Phoebe.

“I think that is just right. It just hits the widest part of your calf and shows off your ankles nicely.”

It took some time for Mlle to feel satisfied with the hemline and Dorothy had to turn this way and that till she felt like a store dummy. Finally her three companions agreed that it was level and just the right length and Mlle removed the pins at the back and Dorothy stepped out of the dress somewhat reluctantly.

*

Late that evening, the Maynards sat with Hugh and Dorothy round the fire which Jack had lit as it still became quite cool in the later evenings. Jo and Dorothy were both knitting and putting in an odd word here and there as Jack and Hugh talked about various political developments and in particular progress towards implementing Beveridge’s dream of a ‘cradle to grave’ Welfare State.

“What do you think of the National Health Service, Jack. It looks as if it will definitely go ahead eventually, in fact Bevan sounds keen to get the Act through this year. Will it make a big difference to places like the San. I presume you’ve all thought about it.”

“It’s the big topic in the canteen and we’ve certainly been keeping a close eye on things at management level. Jem turned The San into a Limited Company a couple of years ago and Jo and I each have shares so it’s very much in our minds.

It’s such a complicated subject, you know. We have private patients who can afford treatment but at least half our income already comes indirectly from other sources. We get patients referred from Hospitals all over the country, some from the Voluntary Hospitals and some from the London Teaching Hospitals. Then we’ve got the teaching we do for some of the University Hospitals.

The word is that some hospitals will be left in private hands. Some of those are run by religious orders and others are very specialised. Don’t quote me on this, but I believe over 200 will stay private – I gather that the correct phrase is that they will be ‘disclaimed by the Ministry’. We’re hoping to be one of them.”

Hugh frowned. “That sounds a lot.”

Jack shook his head. “Not really when you set it against over 3,000 being taken over. Jem’s real fear is that the new service will end up with the lowest common denominator – if a new treatment is expensive, no one will get it. That will stifle research and progress in all sorts of ways. At the moment, our reputation here allows us to charge quite high fees to those who can afford it and is based on being right up there in the forefront of new treatments. That benefits everyone in the long run. The price of things like penicillin will come down and it will be available to everyone. .

Phoebe probably wouldn’t be alive today if it hadn’t been for a jolly expensive treatment from America. We took Frank on specifically because he’d been there and trained with it. We didn’t have to worry about Phoebe being able to afford it because it came out of our research budget. We wouldn’t be able to do that if we were taken over by the State. Our budget would depend on national needs, not specific cases. It would slow down progress.”

Quite frankly, I still don’t see how universal treatment can be paid for by the State in the long term. Don’t get me wrong, the idea that everyone has access to the same treatment and that people actually visit a doctor to get treatment before it is too late is any doctor’s dream come true! The trouble is we’re in an era where medical science is progressing rapidly. You saw that with Jimmy Canning when he had Scarlet Fever. There will be other antibiotics soon and the number of people wanting treatment will grow till we’re bursting at the seams.

The theory is that people will get healthier with better treatment and all the National Insurance benefits they get to improve their standard of living so there will be less people needing treatment. I can’t see it myself. As we are able to cure more and more diseases, people will demand medical attention for less serious things. If we don’t keep up the research, we’ll slide backwards instead of forwards.

The system has to change, I agree. We still get patients who could have been saved if they had been treated earlier and that’s heartbreaking. I’m just afraid they are going to promise too much. Where is the money coming from to build the new hospitals? Some of them are just old Workhouses, you know. There’s bound to be a backlash if expectations are too high.”

Hugh still looked doubtful.

“Think, Hugh.” Jack continued. “You are teaching in a fee paying school. Why? Because there you can make a difference. Take Reg for instance. We tried to get him into a State Grammar School. They dithered for ages and then said they had no room. I suspect that wasn’t strictly true. What they didn’t have was the facilities to give him the extra coaching he needed to make up two years of schooling. Polgarth did that and we have a potentially damned good doctor in prospect, working for the benefit of sick people. Reg would have been at work nearly two years now, probably working on a farm and earning a pittance. Not only that but he wouldn’t even have been a good farmer.”

“You’re right. It’s just that I’d like everyone to have the chance he has had and I’d like everyone to have the chance of the sort of treatment you are giving here. I know you and Sir James pulled strings to get Canning the penicillin and I appreciate it on a personal level. I’d just like to see the best for everyone.”

“So would I.” Said Jack sadly. “So would I.”

 

#9:  Author: Alice, Location: London, England PostPosted: Tue Apr 04, 2006 8:09 pm

Thank you Pat. I loved reading about Dorothy's dress fitting, and about everything else. The discussion about the NHS was really educational for me.

 

#10:  Author: Vikki, Location: Sitting on an iceberg, freezing to death!!! PostPosted: Tue Apr 04, 2006 8:15 pm

Thank you Pat!!!

The dressmaking scene was lovely! So nice to see renewed friendships.

 

#11:  Author: Lesley, Location: Allhallows, Kent PostPosted: Tue Apr 04, 2006 8:24 pm

What a pity Jack wasn't able to let his views become known to the Government of the time. Rolling Eyes

Thanks Pat - nice to see this back.

 

#12:  Author: Chelsea, Location: Your Imagination PostPosted: Tue Apr 04, 2006 8:29 pm

Hmm...I wonder what Joey et al have up their sleeves??

 

#13:  Author: Cath V-P, Location: Newcastle NSW PostPosted: Tue Apr 04, 2006 11:59 pm

Thanks Pat - that was a great update. I really enjoyed the discussion about the NHS, and the problems that might (did?) arise in the future.

And thanks for reposting. Very Happy

 

#14:  Author: Kat,  PostPosted: Wed Apr 05, 2006 6:06 pm

Absolutely loved the dress fitting!

So sad about the NHS though Sad

Thanks Pat Smile

 

#15:  Author: patmac, Location: Yorkshire England PostPosted: Thu Apr 06, 2006 7:11 am

Part 9, Fair Winds, appears to have fallen to the hacker but, as it was probably due for archiving any minute anyway, I'll not repost but it is available to anyone in Word, if they pm me with an email address.

Mods, when archive time comes again, let me know and I can send you the file.

“What a lovely bright building!” Dorothy exclaimed as she and Hugh emerged from the long lime walk and saw the San. “All the other hospitals I know are really grim and depressing.”

“They certainly believe in fresh air!” added Hugh, noting the wide open glass doors to the balconies and the rows of beds out in the sunshine.

They walked across the gravelled forecourt and entered the spacious hallway. Seeing a Reception Desk to one side, they went across and asked for directions and then, thanking the smiling young woman on duty, ascended the wide stone staircase to the second floor. Turning left, they saw two wide swing doors and found themselves in a short corridor with wide open windows reaching from waist height to the ceiling on their right and doors on the left, each numbered. Ahead of them the wing opened out into a large ward which seemed empty, except for lockers and chairs spaced round the room and a Nurses’ station ahead of them.

One wall was wide open to the balcony where the patients spent their day. They noticed that their arrival was being keenly watched by the patients and then they saw one bed towards the far end of the room containing a figure who was waving frantically.

“That must be Canning.” Said Dorothy, waving back as the Nurse sitting at the desk rose and turned to greet them.

“You must be the teachers from Jimmy’s School. He’s so looking forward to seeing you. I’m Nurse O’Reilly.”

She led the way down the long expanse of parquet floor to where Jimmy was waiting, two chairs set beside his bed. They thanked her and sat down.

“You look better than I expected.” Said Hugh. “I gather everything is going well?”

“One and a half inches done and I’m on the next half inch now. Nearly half way!”

“You are doing well. We’ve had a full description of the technique from Entwistle so we know what they are doing. I’ve some idea of what’s involved anyway because I’ve got a permanent rod in my leg where I smashed the bone so I was strung up like that for two months. Frustrating, isn’t it!”

Jimmy visibly relaxed. He hadn’t thought Mr Douglas would be squeamish but he hadn’t been sure of Miss Hatcherd but she was smiling, too. From the twinkle in Mr Douglas’s eye, he had guessed what Jimmy was thinking.

After a few minutes of conversation, Dorothy looked round. “How do I find a lad called Billy? Mrs Maynard has sent a book he wanted and her apologies for not being in recently. The children have all had colds and she was banned from coming.”

“He’s out on the balcony, just outside that door. Nurse won’t mind if you go out to see him. He’ll be jolly chuffed to have a visitor.”

“Right, I’ll do it now before I forget.”

Jimmy watched as she left through the wide open doors and then turned his gaze back to Hugh, who set himself to entertaining Jimmy with the exploits of his friends and news of developments at the school.

Dorothy saw a pale faced boy, lying face down on a plaster frame. “Billy?” she asked.

“Yes, I’m Billy.” He said a little doubtfully.

“I’m Miss Hatcherd, a teacher at Jimmy’s school. I’m staying with Mrs Maynard and she asked me to bring in this book you wanted.”

“Oh, spiffing. Thank you.”

“I’d better fetch a chair or we’ll both get cricks in our necks. Just a moment.”

Returning with a chair, she set it down so he could see her.

“Mrs Maynard sends her love. I gather the children all had colds one after another. She says she thinks they did it on purpose to keep her housebound.”

“That sounds like Mrs Jo. She’s always joking! Are they better now?”

“Nary a sniffle between them.” She chuckled. “It does sound like her. She was just the same when we were at school.”

“In Austria? She’s told us some stories about the things she got up to. It all sounds very exciting.”

“Yes, in Austria. She really hasn’t changed a bit since then. It was exciting for me. I’d never been away from home before.”

“Weren’t you homesick?”

“A bit at first. I hear you’re doing better now. Reg Entwistle told us about you and he’s coming down next week and bringing your kite.”

“I know. He wrote.” Billy fished under the plaster frame and brought out a carefully hoarded pack of letters. “He’s written each week since half term. I’ve got more letters than anyone else now. Except Jimmy, of course, he gets loads but I only had a few before. I’m really looking forward to the kite. He’s going to fly it for me so I can see it and then, when I’m up again, he’s going to teach me to do it myself.”

Dorothy made a mental note of his delight in getting letters as Mary had asked her to watch out for anything the boys of the kite club could do to help at a distance.

“Tell me about your days in here. I’ve never been in hospital, though Mr Douglas, who will come out and see you in a minute, spent a long while in one.”

“There’s not a lot to tell really. We have school you know.” Dorothy nodded. “I couldn’t do a lot for a while because I got so tired but I’m doing a bit more now I can stay awake all morning. Jimmy’s helping me. He’s awfully good at explaining things. We call him the Professor, you know. Some of the Doctor’s wives come and visit but we don’t get a lot of other visitors except parents. Some of them don’t come very much.”

“I expect they’d like to but they have to travel a long way and it would cost a lot to come often.” Dorothy suggested, having heard from Reg about Billy’s lack of visits. “Where do you live?”

“London.”

That’s a long way away! Mr Douglas comes from London. I’ll bet he knows some of the places you do. I’ve never been there except on the way to school and that was just from Kings Cross to Victoria Station to get the Boat Train on the way to school.”

“Haven’t you? I thought everyone had.”

They chatted for a few minutes and then Hugh appeared. “My turn now.” He said to Dorothy, tapping her on the shoulder.

“Hello, Billy. I’m Mr Douglas.” And he held his hand out to shake Billy’s.

Dorothy, after promising to come out to say goodbye, went back to Jimmy and Hugh sat in her chair.

Billy looked at Hugh with some awe as Jimmy had not been slow to boast that he had a teacher who had been a Spitfire Pilot but Hugh soon had him laughing and at ease, having met this response from other boys. He was soon telling Billy about mad capers he and his fellow patients had got up to on their ward and Billy was responding with ones from his own experience.

All too soon, it was time to leave and Hugh and Dorothy walked back up the ward backwards, waving all the way. At the Nurses’ Station, stood a sturdy, grey haired woman in a Sister’s uniform who greeted them as they approached.

“ Hello, I’m Sister Clough. I’m sorry I wasn’t here to meet you when you arrived. That’s the first time I’ve ever heard Billy laugh out loud. How did you manage that?”

To Dorothy’s amazement, Hugh looked embarrassed.

“Umm, well, I was just telling him about my time in hospital.”

Sister looked at him keenly.

“And?”

“One bit made him laugh.”

Dorothy was reminded of a small boy resisting confessing his pranks at school and only kept her face straight with difficulty. She noticed a twinkle in the Sister’s eye, though Hugh obviously didn’t.

“I was telling him about our wheelchair tournament.”

Sister winked at Dorothy.

“And?”

“Well, we had a bit of few prangs and one chap knocked himself out against a bed. The bit that made him laugh most was that I had a bit of spin and bowled Sister over.”

“I’ll bet it did! Well done, Mr Douglas. It’s the first time anyone’s got more than a weak smile out of him. You do realise you’ve just made yourself the hero of every boy on the ward. In fact, I’ll bet they’ve all heard the story in the time it’s taken you to get this far. I’ll have to watch my back in the future.”

Hugh suddenly realised his leg was being pulled and gave a sigh of relief.

“I didn’t set out to give them ideas.” He protested. “I couldn’t get him to laugh and I did so want to. Poor little bloke.”

“You’ve done him a world of good. The fact that you’ve overcome your own problems and can still see the funny side will give the boys a fresh perspective on their own situations. We could do with more visitors like you. Come again some time.”

Hugh and Dorothy stopped on the drive in front of the hospital and waved to the balcony where several of the boys were waving back. As they turned to go down the drive. Hugh chuckled.

“What’s the joke?”

“It’s a good thing Sister didn’t ask what else I’d told him.”

Dorothy stopped. “Something worse?”

“Well, we did manage to stick labels on the backs of all the nurses one day with their nicknames on. Then there was the time we put salt in the sugar bowl in the Nurses’ kitchen and there was the time when we got hold of the bedpans and …”

“Stop! I don’t think I want to hear any more!” Dorothy put her hands over her ears and looked back. “Do you suppose we ought to warn her?”

“No. Let the lads have their fun! They don’t get much.”

Last edited by patmac on Wed Apr 26, 2006 5:43 am; edited 1 time in total

 

#16:  Author: Lesley, Location: Allhallows, Kent PostPosted: Thu Apr 06, 2006 7:18 am

Oh that was so lovely! Poor little Billy - but seeing Dorothy and Hugh will have been just the tonic he needs!

Thanks Pat. Laughing

 

#17:  Author: Cath V-P, Location: Newcastle NSW PostPosted: Thu Apr 06, 2006 7:30 am

Oh gorgeous....wheelchair tournaments!

Thanks Patmac

 

#18:  Author: Chelsea, Location: Your Imagination PostPosted: Thu Apr 06, 2006 1:41 pm

Thanks for that bit PatMac.

My brother and I used to have IV pole races when we visited my mum - I don't think that the nurses were too impressed Embarassed

 

#19:  Author: Kat,  PostPosted: Thu Apr 06, 2006 3:29 pm

Fab!

I have had a wheelchair race in hospital! Was brilliant fun - had other patients betting on who would win! ROFL

Good for Hugh and Dorothy cheering the boys up too!

 

#20:  Author: Mrs Redboots, Location: London, UK PostPosted: Thu Apr 06, 2006 4:43 pm

Thanks, PatMac.

Many years ago now I did a hospital radio show, and I vividly remember one of the Sisters, I think, getting us to announce that if patients wished to go to the pub, especially with their IV poles, would they please tell someone where they were going....

 

#21:  Author: Chair, Location: Rochester, Kent PostPosted: Thu Apr 06, 2006 5:30 pm

Thanks, Pat. It's great that Jo and Dorothy got on well. I'm glad that Hugh and Dorothy made Billy laugh and the talk about the NHS has taught me a lot.

 

#22:  Author: Vikki, Location: Sitting on an iceberg, freezing to death!!! PostPosted: Thu Apr 06, 2006 9:34 pm

Thank you Pat!!

Hugh is lovely! (and may we hear if the boys have tried any of his exploits for themselves?) Wink

 

#23:  Author: patmac, Location: Yorkshire England PostPosted: Fri Apr 07, 2006 6:33 pm

We're off for a few days in Amsterdam tomorrow. Ostensibly to see the tulips at The Keukenhof and and also some Rembrandts but I dare say there will be a fair bit of strolling around and sitting around in cafés as well - so long as it doesn't snow. Having looked at six sites giving weather forecasts for the next week, it looks as if we may have sun and/or snow and/or rain. No two agree!



While, Hilda Annersley may not have ‘whooped’ at the news of Dorothy’s visit, as Jo had claimed, she was none the less pleased to see her. Although there had been a small trickle of contacts over the years, so many girls were still unaccounted for that every one discovered safe was one more cause for rejoicing. Although Dorothy had returned home to England, that was no cause for complacency as they had discovered when news of Gertrud Becker’s death had arrived the previous year. Dorothy was also one of the girls who had signed the original Peace League document and Hilda had privately vowed to attempt to trace every girl whose signature appeared on that document.

Possibly more excited was Jeanne de Lachenais who had been thrilled to hear that Dorothy was now teaching languages and was using her undeniable talents. So many of the old girls, despite all the work the School put in to make the girls trilingual, had lost their command of French and German during the war for lack of practice and to find that at least one had continued with her studies was gratifying.

Dorothy’s only regular contact with Nell Wilson had been through the Guides and, although she knew some of the girls feared her sharp tongue, had rather liked her direct approach. What she was not really prepared for, though she had been told about it, was the difference her white hair made to her appearance. It was a shock and brought home the difficulties of the journey over the mountains in a way that Hilary’s account had failed to do.

They were taken on a tour of the school, which, in some ways resembled Chaucer House, though it was bigger and Dorothy exclaimed over the differences from the old Chalet School, while Hugh, who had found a kindred spirit in Nell, saw a few innovations he intended to take up with John and Eric when he had a chance and told her about how they handled similar situations at Polgarth.

Finally, they finished up in the Study, where a tray of tea and Welsh Cakes awaited them, were joined by Julie Berne and settled down to catch up on the last eight years. Names were bandied back and forth, each accompanied by an account of contact or a sigh of regret that there was no news.

Dorothy was thrilled to hear the latest news of Corney and Evvy.

“You remember I mentioned them when you were telling me about Mike.” She said to Hugh, who was sitting quietly, listening to the chatter about him. “They were kindred spirits to Mike. Utterly mad but warm and friendly people.”

Hugh nodded. “At least they didn’t have access to Jeeps!”

“They made a quartet with Elsie Carr and Margia. I know they are all right because Hilary told me. Has anyone heard of Mercy or her sister, Faith? If I remember right their surname was Barbour.”

No one had, except that Mercy had gone into the Forces. Once the conversation died down and the Welsh Cakes were history, Hilda unlocked a drawer of her desk. “You ought to see this Dorothy. Jo brought it back when Peace was declared.”

She pulled out a cream envelope, stained and creased.

“Is that …. “ Dorothy breathed in wonder.

Hilda nodded and took out the sheets, unfolding them carefully and holding them out to her. Hugh stood and leaned on the back of Dorothy’s chair to read over her shoulder as she began reading aloud.

“We, the girls of the Chalet School, hereby vow ourselves members of the Chalet School Peace League. We swear faithfully to do all we can to promote peace between all our countries. We will not believe any lies spoken about evil doings, but we will try to get others to work for peace as we do. We will not betray … “

Her voice broke and Hugh gripped her shoulder and took over the recitation.

“We will not betray this League to any enemy, whatever may happen to us. If it is possible we will meet at least once a year. And we will always remember that though we belong to different lands, we are members of the Chalet School League of Peace.”

There was silence in the room as Dorothy scanned down the signatures, each evoking a face. She came to her own name and the memories came flooding back.

“I remember exactly where I was when I signed this. I can even remember who was in the room. My fountain pen had run dry and I signed it with Polly Heriot’s. It was late in the afternoon and the sun was low in the sky. I remember Corney pulled the curtain because it was in our eyes. Lonny was there and Maria Marani.”

Jo nodded. “Everyone remembers exactly where they were when they signed it and who was there.”

“I’m glad to see it again. However did you keep it safe?”

“Jack kept it and he never mentioned it till he produced it on VE Day last year.”

Dorothy fished up her sleeve for her hankie and wiped her eyes. “We were so young and naïve. It’s as well we couldn’t see the future.”

“Young, yes. Naïve, not really.” Said Nell Wilson, thoughtfully. “Oh, maybe in some ways!” as Jo protested.

“But you thought well beyond what most people, even the politicians, could see – or can see now! They’re beginning to talk of Russian people in just the same way as they did about the Germans and the Japanese when the ordinary people are just victims of power mad maniacs. I think we’d all do well to remember that vow. If it’s naivety, we need more of it to make the world a safer place.”

Hugh thought over what she had just said.

“You’re right Nell. We had a bad incident a couple of years ago with a boy who was brought up by a Fascist father. All the usual things, you’ve no doubt heard before. Hatred of Jews, scorn of workers. As a direct result of his vicious attitude and bullying, we nearly had a tragedy. You’ll remember, Jo when Reg Entwistle climbed down a hole up on the moors and rescued young Hanson.”

“I’m not likely to forget it!” Jo shivered at the memory.

“What did the school do? Hilda’s professional curiosity was roused.

“John, that’s the Head of the Junior School, had him in the study and tried to get through to him – he’d been warned before – but it was no use. He was expelled.”

“We had something similar with a German girl. You won’t remember Thekla, Dorothy. It was before your time.”

“Actually, what happened then is not the important part. His father was imprisoned during the war for his Nazi sympathies. He’s out now. He’s still rich and he has a following, all saying “We told you so! Russia is the real enemy.”

There was silence for a few minutes while they all took this in. Then Hilda spoke, sounding as calm as ever.

“We can’t change the world, only our small part of it. Who knows what influence our girls or your boys will have in the future. It’s our job to make sure they grow up straight, strong and tolerant. If we fret over what we can’t change, we won’t be focusing on what we can.

We do have a weapon to fight evil, though. We can pray.”

The matter of fact way she spoke of prayer affected Hugh more than he was prepared to admit, yet.

Last edited by patmac on Wed Apr 26, 2006 5:40 am; edited 1 time in total

 

#24:  Author: Lesley, Location: Allhallows, Kent PostPosted: Fri Apr 07, 2006 7:38 pm

Thanks Pat - it's good to be reminded of what the Peace League really was - well ahead of it's time and so profound.

 

#25:  Author: Róisín, Location: Gaillimh, Eire PostPosted: Sun Apr 09, 2006 4:43 pm

Oh brilliant - thank you for posting more of this Very Happy

 

#26:  Author: Kat,  PostPosted: Sun Apr 09, 2006 5:00 pm

Thank you Pat Smile

 

#27:  Author: Dawn, Location: Leeds, West Yorks PostPosted: Mon Apr 10, 2006 3:12 pm

WOW!

I have just spent the whole afternoon reading all of this Pat. I was hopelessly behind before the board was attacked and it has been lovely to completely immerse myself in this. There are so many wonderful things in it, I've laughed and I've cried this afternoon and I now feel nourished and content - thankyou


And I've now decided I want to re-read all the Reg drabbles, so will be PMing and asking if you could email me them all.

 

#28:  Author: patmac, Location: Yorkshire England PostPosted: Thu Apr 20, 2006 10:26 pm

I'm sorry this is slow in posting. Unfortunately, RL continues to intrude and, although later parts are simmering away nicely, this section is proving slow going.

The journey was a familiar one now and Auntie found the swaying of the train as it sped through the countryside made her sleepy. Her eyes closed and her head nodded forward. She jolted upright. This would never do. She never slept in the day. That was for old people!

The last few days had been rather hectic. The first few days when Reg came home for the holidays always were. He seemed to fill the cottage, both with his belongings and his sheer size, not to mention his chatter! It was reassuring that he wanted to tell her about school but there were so many things she didn’t really understand. What on earth was trigonometry for instance? It seemed to be something to do with maths which was a fancy name for complicated sums. She’d got the hang of algebra – that was putting letters where numbers should be – though why any one would want to, she couldn’t quite grasp. Geometry was just measuring. That was fair enough, but after that she was lost.

Then there was all this talk of sport. Reg didn’t even play much sport, except for his running of course. She understood that he needed exercise with all this sitting around poring over books but he seemed to think it was important that his ‘House’ (although as they all lived in the same house, it seemed to mean a special team) should do well in other sports as well. His tales of matches were sprinkled with phrases like ‘scrumdown’ and ‘silly mid off’. She just nodded and hoped her occasional comments didn’t reveal her ignorance.

Her head nodded again. Again, she sat up straight. Reg looked up from his book.

“Why don’t you doze while you can? You’ll get no rest when we get to Auntie Jo’s.”

“Perhaps I will. You’ll wake me in good time before we get there?”

“Yes. Don’t worry. I’ll keep an eye out.”

He went back to his book and she nodded off. Reg looked up as a faint snore rolled round the carriage, and grinned. “Now that is a first,” he thought.

*

He woke her in good time and she straightened her hat while Reg lifted the luggage down from the racks. Slinging his improvised kite carrier on his back, he lifted the two cases, leaving Auntie with the two shopping bags.

“Can you manage those?” he asked.

“Of course I can. I’m not feeble yet!” she returned feeling a little grumpy after her sleep.

They left the train and looked along the platform but there was no sign of anyone to meet them so they put their luggage down and sat on a seat to wait.

“The train is a little early.” Reg commented, looking at the big clock. “Shall I get you a cup of tea?

“There’s still some in the flask.” She lifted the flask from a bag and shook it before removing the top and peering inside. “Enough for half a cup each, anyway.”

“You have it. I’m fine.”

Auntie poured the tea into the thermos cup and sipped. “That’s better. It’s still warm enough to drink. I feel quite thirsty.”

“Probably because you were sleeping with your mouth open.” Reg commented without thinking.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” Auntie was mortified. “What if someone had come in and seen me!”

“Well, they didn’t and I would have woken you if they had. I shouldn’t think anyone could sleep sitting up with their mouth closed. You must have seen Mrs Holmes in church. She always sleeps through the sermon and her mouth is always open.”

As Mrs Holmes was in her eighties, this was probably the worst thing he could have said and Auntie snapped at him.

“I’ll have you know I’m not old yet!”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean that. I’ll go and look through the fence at the car park and see if anyone is coming for us.”

Auntie took a deep breath as he stalked off up the platform and decided that sleeping in the day was a bad idea. She had the beginnings of a headache, she’d snapped at Reg and she’d had her mouth open for all to see. At least she knew she hadn’t been snoring! She never snored.

Reg came galloping back along the platform. “The Commodore has just pulled into the car park. Come on and we’ll not keep him waiting.”

They emerged from the station entrance just as Ted reached it.

“Hello, Auntie, Reg. I thought I was just in time.”

“You are.” Said Reg, cheerfully. “The train was early for once.”

Ted opened the trunk and Reg heaved the cases in, followed by the shopping bags and the unwieldy parcel of kites, while Ted settled Auntie in the front passenger seat. He slammed down the lid and leapt into the back seat as Ted started the car.

“I see you got the kites made.” Commented Ted as he swung the car out of the car park.

“Yes. All done and dusted. Everyone was keen once I’d told them about the boys on the ward. Mind you, if I had known I was going to have to stand up in front of them all and tell them, I think I might have kept quiet. It was really terrifying.”

“I’ll bet it was. I hear one of your friends is coming down tomorrow.”

Yes. Hanson and his parents are off down to Cornwall to see his Grandparents and are stopping off for a couple of days. I believe his Dad knows Uncle Jack.”

“How are you, Auntie?” Ted noticed that Auntie was rather quiet.

“I’m fine. I’ve just a bit of a headache.”

Ted glanced across at her, noting that she looked a little pale. “A cup of good tea will probably put you to rights.” He said cheerfully, making a mental note to speak to Jack. “Debby is looking forward to seeing you. I was over there to tea yesterday and she said so.” Auntie grunted but looked pleased.

*

A grand fanfare on the horn announced the arrival of the Hansons. Reg was first out of the front door, followed closely by Len who, Jo declared, was Reg’s shadow. Christopher Hanson tumbled out of the back with more enthusiasm than grace before the car had stopped and his parents followed as Jo and Jack, followed by the other triplets, emerged from the front door with a little more decorum. Len, Reg and Christopher withdrew slightly from the general greetings and only Jo noticed the perplexed expressions on the other triplets’ faces as they were abandoned by their third.

Jacob Hanson and Jack were soon well away in conversation and Jo exchanged an amused glance with Mrs Hanson.

“No use expecting them to introduce us.” Said the small dark woman. “They’re talking shop. I’m Rebbecca Hanson, Becky for short, and you have to be Mrs Maynard.”

“Jo, please. I’m pleased to meet you. These are Con and Margot, two of our triplets and the third is Len who is hopping madly round Reg and Christopher. Let’s go inside and have a cup of tea. I’m assuming the others will follow when they’ve come to their first senses.” She turned to Con and Margot. “Are you coming with us or joining the others?”

The little girls opted to join Len with Reg and Christopher so Jo led the way inside and they settled in the drawing room where a tray of tea and biscuits was waiting on a small table.

Soon they were settled and Jo took stock of the visitor. Becky Hanson was a dark skinned woman with deep brown eyes. Jo judged she could not be more than five feet tall and was probably in her early thirties. Her dark brown hair, was cropped and her eyes laughed as she surveyed Jo in her turn.

“Thank you so much for inviting us. Christopher was so keen to go with Reg to the San and we were more than happy. I think it’s a great idea for them to get involved.”

“We’re glad to have you. I must admit I thought Reg was over-reaching himself with his plans but I hear they’ve been taken up with some enthusiasm.”

“I think whatever that crowd set out to do, they’ll push through. I used to worry that Christopher would lack friends, being out of his own age group, but I’ve come to accept that he’s happier with the older ones and the inseparables are a lovely crowd. Have you met any of the others?”

“I’m afraid not, though I’m hoping to this year. We’re going up for the wedding. I gather you’ll be there.”

“Yes. Christopher begged to stay on and sing in the choir so we said we’d come up and swell the numbers and take him straight home afterwards. I’ve a favour to ask, actually. We’d like to take Reg home with us for a couple of weeks at the same time. Christopher finds the holidays a bit long on his own nowadays and he really doesn’t get out enough. Left to himself, he just buries himself in a book. I suppose I need to ask his Aunt but I don’t want to ask for her address in case she has other plans and Christopher is disappointed. Would you let me have her address before we go?”

“You can ask her yourself. She’s staying for the week with Reg. She’s out this afternoon visiting friends and took our elder boy, Steve, with her but she’ll be back for supper.”

By the time Jack and Jacob came in, the two women were getting on well and the four sat chatting till a wail from upstairs alerted Jo to the fact that Charles had woken.

He toddled into the Drawing Room ahead of his mother and took stock of the visitors. At twenty one months, Charles had no fear of strangers and he beamed at the Hansons before catching sight of the plate of biscuits and heading straight for it. Jack caught him with a deftness born of long practice.

“Whoa up! Who offered you a biscuit? What do you say?”

Charles turned soulful eyes to his father. “P’ease, Papa. I’se vewy hungwy.”

“Just one, Jack. He may say he’s hungry but he won’t want his tea if he has more.”

Jack made him sit down on the rug and handed him a biscuit on a plate. “Now eat tidily or you won’t eat in the Drawing Room again till you are as big as Steve. Now what do you say?”

“Fank you Papa.”


*

Reg and Christopher had gone up to the day nursery, where milk and biscuits awaited them and were talking nineteen to the dozen while the triplets hung onto every word.

“It’s spiffing to see you. Do you reckon we can have a practice at flying the kites before we go up to the San? I’m a bit nervous. That bit where we make them go round one another scares me. I’d feel a right fool if the strings got tangled.”

“The lawn in front of the San is the only place big enough round here to do it. Too many trees everywhere else. Anyway, we’ll only try it if the wind is just right. Don’t worry, you’ll be fine.”

“I hope so.”

“What’s it like being triplets?” Christopher asked, curiously. “You’re the first I’ve ever met.”

“Well,” Margot answered. “We’ve never been singletons, so I’ve never thought about it. We just are, I suppose.”

“What about at school? Do you always go around together out of lessons? You know. ‘All for one and one for all’, like The Three Musketeers?”

“That’s a book, isn’t it?” asked Con, speaking for the first time. “Papa’s got it, but he said it’s too old for us yet.”

“M’mm.” Christopher nodded, speaking indistinctly through a mouthful of biscuit. “I think it’s really a grown up book but I wasn’t much older than you when I read it and it’s a jolly fine adventure if you skip some of the bits. Anyway, if you’ve not read it, you won’t know what I mean. Do you go around together all the time?”

“We’ve got other friends at school and then there’s all the cousins but we do stick together most of the time. We’re not exactly ‘sclusive, if that’s what you mean” Con was thinking it through. “We’re awfully different really but everyone calls us ‘the triplets’. Sometimes I don’t like that.”

She saw Margot’s horrified face and added, “I don’t mean I don’t want to be a triplet. We’ll always be triplets, Margot.”

Margot tossed her curls. “Of course we will. We’re always in the same class and we’ll always be together. We don’t really need lots of other friends.”

Reg looked at Len and saw that she was not so sure but Christopher was forging ahead with no regard to Margot’s assertion.

“That won’t last. You’re not that much alike and you’ll all want to do different things later.” Belatedly, he caught on that Margot was getting upset. “I’ll bet it’s fun, though. It’s a pity you’re not identical, you could really confuse people.”

 

#29:  Author: Lesley, Location: Allhallows, Kent PostPosted: Thu Apr 20, 2006 11:08 pm

Love Auntie not wanting to sleep in the day as that's for old people - what does that make me then? I sleep whenever I get the chance! Also like the little inklings into the triplets characters - Len's hero-worship of Reg, Con not really liking being referred to as 'the triplets' and Margot's selfishness.

Thanks Pat.

 

#30:  Author: Cath V-P, Location: Newcastle NSW PostPosted: Thu Apr 20, 2006 11:17 pm

Lovely Patmac. I appreciate Reg's digging himself a nice deep pit with regard to Auntie's nap! And it's interesting to see the triplets' individuality developing.

 

#31:  Author: Karry,  PostPosted: Fri Apr 21, 2006 8:44 am

uh oh! Starts worrying about Auntie!

 

#32:  Author: LizB, Location: Oxon, England PostPosted: Fri Apr 21, 2006 10:27 am

Thanks, Pat. That was lovely - well worth the wait Very Happy

 

#33:  Author: Josie, Location: London PostPosted: Fri Apr 21, 2006 11:35 am

Lovely surprise! I was wondering when this was going to be reposted - only to discover that I'm blind and it already had been!

Thanks Pat, fab as ever. Have had a great time catching up.

You have the triplets characters spot on!

 

#34:  Author: Jennie, Location: Cambridgeshire PostPosted: Fri Apr 21, 2006 12:06 pm

Another wonderful episode, Pat. This world is so rich in character and personality, I do wish you'd written the entire CS series.

 

#35:  Author: dackelasGuest,  PostPosted: Fri Apr 21, 2006 9:40 pm

Another wonderful few posts, thank you, Pat!

It's so lovely seeing how all the characters develop and how their lives intertwine.

And the one-before-last post with Hugh telling Billy about the tricks he played on the nurses while he was in hospital was absolutely hilarious! For once I could laugh out loud in the computer-room, as I was the only one in it, and I took full advantage! Laughing

 

#36:  Author: M, Location: Winchester PostPosted: Fri Apr 21, 2006 10:05 pm

Like the bit about having other friends when Margot indicates that she doesn't see much need for them. Shades of things to come.

Also just caught up on the previous post about the peace league & Dorothy remembering when she signed it, very poignant.

 

#37:  Author: Jennie, Location: Cambridgeshire PostPosted: Sat Apr 22, 2006 3:25 pm

Thanks, Pat. I can see the storm-clouds ahead with Margot. But what I'm really looking forward to is a description of the wedding.

I hope RL will let you get back to this soon.

 

#38:  Author: grover, Location: Dublin PostPosted: Sat Apr 22, 2006 11:07 pm

Thank you,Pat.This whole epic (long may it continue) is beyond wonderful!

 

#39:  Author: Chair, Location: Rochester, Kent PostPosted: Sun Apr 23, 2006 7:03 pm

Thanks, Pat. It's interesting to see that Len wants to be with Reg and you can see Con and Margot's personalities. I hope that Reg will be able to go and stay with Hanson.

 

#40:  Author: patmac, Location: Yorkshire England PostPosted: Tue Apr 25, 2006 5:27 pm

This will be the last 'Wartime Economy' post but this 'part' is all coming together now and I've finished working on another project so I should have time to finish the school year ready for the new shiny board. Touch wood, cross your fingers!


The next morning, Jack loaded his car with the kites. “These look rather professional, a far cry from your old newspaper parcels, Reg.” He commented as the hessian packs were carefully laid in the trunk.

“Mr Newby gave us some old torn sacks and we sewed the best bits together to make them. We’re hoping to get some from other farms and make some more but we thought these should be the first.”

“Mr Jeffreys got hold of another sewing machine. A really big one, from a factory, and some of the Sixth Form mended it as a project in class.” Added Christopher who was helping.

“Right. I’ll leave them in the car till you come up. Don’t be late now. The whole San has changed it’s routine this morning so as many people as possible can watch so mind you are in plenty of time. What’s this little one for?”

“We’re going to ask Sister if we can hang it on the Ward so the boys can see it all the time. It was Dixon’s idea. He said it would cheer them up in between times.

“You’ll have to ask her yourself. She might think it just makes more dusting.”

The two boys waved him off and strolled back to the house.

“Do you think any of the others will be able to get here? I do hope they can.”

“I’ve no idea.” Said Reg. “It will depend on their parents and if they can spare the petrol. It would be spiffing, though. The more of us that visit, the keener they will be to help. I was jolly glad you could come.”

“My parents are really good about that sort of thing. I wouldn’t say they’ve spoiled me but they’re always keen to help, especially when it’s something like this. Anyway, they like you ‘cos of that time on the moor. I suppose it helped that Pa knows your Uncle Jack as well. It’s a pity Mrs Maynard couldn’t ask them all but can you imagine the scrum it would have been if everyone had come to stay!”

Reg, who had slept with Christopher on the floor of the box room which was now Jo’s study, laughed. “It couldn’t have been done. We’d have had someone sleeping in the bath. I think even Auntie Jo would have balked at that many visitors.”

*

At half past ten. a procession of people were converging on the San. Reg and Christopher had set off earlier to deliver the kites to the people who had ordered them and prepare their own kites for the planned display and everyone else was due to arrive by eleven o’clock.

The Maynard party was joined by various other people along the way and Mrs Hanson was walking with Auntie so she took the opportunity to ask if Reg could stay in the summer.

“You see, the Holidays do seem a bit long for Christopher. We only moved to Cambridge last year and he’s not made any friends there. We don’t seem to mix with people who have children his age. We thought of going camping up on the Norfolk Broads or by the sea if the beaches are cleared by then . It’s going to depend on the petrol situation but we don’t use the car much if we can help it so I’m hopeful. You’d be doing us a favour as he will get out and about if Reg is there. We just don’t want to do the same things as he does.”

“Reg is alone most of the time in the holidays too, as all the boys his age are working now, not that he fitted in with them, anyway, except one. I’d like to ask Christopher to stay but I’m not sure how he would like it. He’d have to share Reg’s room and one of them would have to sleep on the floor. I’ve only got a little cottage with no bathroom and an outside toilet.”

Becky laughed. “Ours is only a small terraced house. It would have been a workman’s cottage when it was built. We do have a bathroom, which is why we’ve only got two bedrooms but whoever put the bathroom in didn’t add an indoor toilet. It doesn’t bother us, though. I never had a bathroom when I was growing up. We brought the tin bath in on Friday evenings and bathed in turns in the kitchen and the toilet was at the end of the garden. I was about to warn you about that in case it worried you. Some people think it’s very primitive, having an outdoor toilet.”

Auntie had heard from Reg about how the Hansons had spent their money on rescuing Jewish children at the start of the war so she was already favourably inclined to Christopher’s family.

“I should think Reg and Christopher could travel from London on their own, if you can get them that far but how would we get Christopher home again? He’s only thirteen isn’t he?”

“Just put him in the charge of the Guard at Leeds and I’ll meet him at Kings Cross. Please say we can do it.”

“I don’t see why not if Christopher won’t be bored in our little village. Reg will drag him all over the moors so he’ll get plenty of fresh air.”

“Good. Let’s talk about it some more tonight, we must be nearly there now. Goodness, what a lovely building! I didn’t expect anything like that.”

Auntie, feeling comfortable with Becky now, told her what she had learned from Simone about the San and soon they were standing to one side of the steps watching as, not just Reg and Christopher. but two other boys assembled their kites and another older boy stood nearby, talking to three men.

“Who are the other boys?” asked Auntie in surprise.

“I didn’t know anything about this either! Our boys have been playing their cards close to their chests by the look of it. I can see Basil Dixon but I don’t know the other two or the older one. I suppose the men with them are parents.”

“One of them is Doctor Pearson who came to the Lake District last year. The short one is Doctor Peters but I’ve no idea who the other is.”

As soon as they were ready, the four younger boys spread out and, at a signal from Reg, ran backwards, playing out their lines as the men and the older boy held the kites up. Soon all the kites were in the air and the boys, who had obviously planned the whole display, started to put their kites through their paces.

“Goodness!” cried Becky, clutching Auntie’s arm. “I’d no idea they were so good! How do they manage without tangling.”

There were sharp intakes of breath from the audience and occasional bursts of applause as the four boys made their kites soar and dip in an intricate display.

Up on the Boys Orthopaedic Ward, there was particular jubilation. Although the whole San was watching, this was especially for them. A whole pack of letters had arrived a few weeks before from the boys in the Kite Club enclosing snaps of kites being flown at the school. They had been passed round and pored over till they were tattered and creased and Sister declared that Kite Fever had taken over the ward.

On the steps leading up to the entrance, Jo murmured to Jack. “Did you know anything about this? Reg never mentioned any other boys were coming.”

Jack grinned. “Not officially. Reg and Ted set up contingency plans in the hope that a couple of the other boys could come and Ted felt obliged to tip me off. I’ve no idea who the older boy is though. The dark haired man is Mr Fourakis. He and his son arrived quite early and I suppose the other youngster is another of the inseparables. His parents must be around somewhere, though in this crowd I don’t think we’re going to identify them.”

“I never expected this. Young Reg must have really made an impression on his friends.”

Off to one side, Nell Wilson murmured to her Co-Head. “I’m glad it’s the holidays. Can you imagine what this would spark in the girls.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure. The Maynards, Bettanys and Russells are here and Peggy is snapping away with her camera. We’re not likely to get off that easily.”

“Ah, well. It’s more up your street, Hilary.” Nell gave a wicked grin as she looked at Hilary Burn who was standing beside them. “This is definitely a sport!”

“You don’t catch me! At Polgarth it’s an out of school club, nothing to do with sport. You could add metal working to the curriculum so they could make them!”

Chuckling, they turned back to watch just as Reg and Christopher sent their kites in an intricate dance which looked as if they must surely tangle the lines. A cheer went up at the end of this which was obviously the finale of the show and they started to reel in the kites.

When they joined the crowd by the steps, the four boys were flushed and a little overcome at their reception.

“You’d better introduce us.” Jack commented to Reg as the staff reluctantly returned to their duties and only a small group remained.

“This is Dixon, and this is Fourakis.” Reg pointed at the boys in turn. “Dr Maynard and Mrs Maynard. Morris is one of our prefects and a jolly good kite flyer as well.”

Everyone shook hands and Irakles introduced his father. Dixon looked round and beckoned to his parents who were standing nearby with his younger sister. “Come and join us.” He called and further introductions were made all round as the Hansons and Auntie joined them.

“We’d better not all turn up on the Ward. My wife and I will take the boys up and Dr Pearson will take the parents to the Dining Room for a drink. Is that all right with everyone?” said Jack.

There were nods all round and the families followed Ted to the back of the building where the Dining Room was situated.

Jack turned to the four boys. “Do you all know what to expect?”

“Yes. Entwistle’s told us quite a bit and one of my cousins had a TB hip and I visited him. I don’t think anyone is going to have a problem.” Morris answered sounding assured.

“Just one thing.” Said Jo, holding up her hand. “Please use your Christian names. Apart from Jimmy, that’s what the boys are used to.”

“I never thought of that!” exclaimed Morris. “I’m Dan. I know you’re Reg but what about you three?”

“Basil.” “Irakles” “Christopher.”

They mounted the broad staircase and found Sister waiting at the door to the Ward. Jack made the introductions and they entered, carrying their kites. Christopher left the small one outside the door and Reg was carrying Billy’s, still in its case.

They went out on the balcony where all the boys were waiting and were greeted by cheers. Splitting up, they went round the boys, asking their names and answering questions about the kites. Reg went straight to where Billy was lying next to Jimmy and could see the difference immediately.

“Gosh! You look tons better. Well done.”

Billy grinned. “They say I’m doing well. I’ve not had one abscess since March and the X-rays look better as well. The Doctors are amazed.”

“Well, here’s your kite as promised. I’ll show you how it goes together but I suppose we’ll have to take it apart and put it away then till you’re up again. Do you think Sister will let you keep it near your bed?”

“I’ve already asked her and she says I can keep it under the frame. I’ll be able to touch it then.”

After a little while, when they had talked to all the boys and the staff, it was time to leave. Reg asked Sister if they could put the little kite up somewhere for the boys to see and she suggested it could go on the covered balcony so they assembled it and Dan climbed on a chair to hang it from a girder where it fluttered gaily in the breeze.

“Have you said anything to Reg, yet?” Jo murmured to Jack as they followed the boys down the stairs.

He shook his head. “I don’t want him worrying till we get the results. She’d hate it if he started fussing round her. We’ll know soon after lunch and I’ll talk to him then after I’ve told her, if I need to. I’ll have a better idea when we have the blood test results. There’s a slight heart murmur but ” he shrugged. “She could have had it all her life and it may not mean anything.”

 

#41:  Author: Chelsea, Location: Your Imagination PostPosted: Tue Apr 25, 2006 5:41 pm

Funny how they didn't know each other's first names - though I suppose I had school friends whose last names I didn't know.

Nice day there PatMac - but where the heck did that cliff come from Shocked

 

#42:  Author: Lesley, Location: Allhallows, Kent PostPosted: Tue Apr 25, 2006 5:57 pm

See that they've still not heard of Medical in Confidence in CS land! Wink

Lovely episode Pat - and nice cliff.

Thank you.

 

#43:  Author: Chair, Location: Rochester, Kent PostPosted: Tue Apr 25, 2006 6:14 pm

Thanks, Pat. I'm now wibbling about what they said at the end. I'm glad the kite flying went well.

 

#44:  Author: Vikki, Location: Sitting on an iceberg, freezing to death!!! PostPosted: Tue Apr 25, 2006 7:41 pm

Thank you Pat! (Not keen on that cliff though!)

 

#45:  Author: Kathy_S, Location: midwestern US PostPosted: Wed Apr 26, 2006 4:27 am

Thanks, Pat!

Shocking how long it took me to figure out that Christopher was Hanson. Laughing -- and interesting that the others had to introduce each other.

I've actually just caught up on a lot of this. I especially loved the way the Peace League was interwoven with Polgarth events.

 

#46:  Author: Mia, Location: London PostPosted: Wed Apr 26, 2006 8:55 am

Thanks Pat, this is great.

 

#47:  Author: Cath V-P, Location: Newcastle NSW PostPosted: Wed Apr 26, 2006 9:20 am

Pat, this is splendid...and where did that last bit come from??!!

 

#48:  Author: Nell, Location: London, England PostPosted: Wed Apr 26, 2006 9:46 am

Thank you Pat. a lovely scene but not so sure about that cliff.

 

#49:  Author: Kat,  PostPosted: Wed Apr 26, 2006 10:27 am

Meep!

Pat please come and clear away this little hillock you've left lying around Wink Very Happy

 

#50:  Author: Elder in Ontario, Location: Ontario, Canada PostPosted: Wed Apr 26, 2006 1:32 pm

That was a wonderful scene - and how satisfying that the other boys were also able to see the enjoyment which those kites provided for the patients. Also good to see how well Billy has kept his pledge to Reg and how his health is improving.

But did you have to drop that clifflet in there, Patmac?

 

#51:  Author: Jennie, Location: Cambridgeshire PostPosted: Wed Apr 26, 2006 3:56 pm

Eebles wildly, how will we manage without Auntie?

 

The CBB -> Starting again at Sarres...


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