Camomile Lawn (8 page)

All her life whenever there was a full moon Sophy remembered walking the empty streets, her hand in Oliver’s greatcoat pocket, their feet crunching the snow, a full moon casting black shadows from tall buildings, the frozen air painful to breathe, walking in silence all the way to St Paul’s, where they stood looking up at the dome and listened to the starlings fighting for roosting places on the cathedral, whistling, high-pitched, aggressive.

How long had they stood there? Long enough for Oliver to regain his composure, long enough for Sophy to get thoroughly chilled, long enough for a solitary policeman to get interested and pace slowly towards them.

‘Monika said the police were not the Gestapo when they came to fetch Max and her. I hope they get out soon.’ She shivered in the snow.

‘Sophy, you are freezing, why didn’t you say.’

‘I’m all right.’ Her hand at least had been warm, held in his pocket. That, too, she would remember.

‘The Erstweilers will be released. Come on, I must get you back to Polly. We never left a note, she will think you have vanished.’

‘She’s out with David and Paul.’

‘They may be back by now.’ In later years Oliver was to wonder why the whistle of starlings always gave him a sensation of sexual jealousy. He quite forgot St Paul’s by the light of the moon before the bombing.

The twins and Polly had been dining more modestly at the Royal Court. Polly had pointed out Augustus John at the bar. They looked older, more confident, more alike than ever in uniform. Oliver wondered whether he had chosen the wrong service.

‘How’s it going, Oliver?’ Polly, too, had aged. Her face had thinned so that her eyes seemed larger, her lashes longer, mouth wider.

‘It’s going nowhere. I’ve been trying to get in on the Finnish war but they say it’s nearly over. I’m bloody bored and cold in my camp. You look fine.’

‘I’m busy. I think I’m doing something useful.’

‘Secret?’

‘Not so that you’d notice. Well, it is really.’

The twins laughed, watching her.

‘We saw Calypso,’ said Oliver to test them.

‘We’ve rather gone off her.’ David glanced at his brother for confirmation. ‘She’s become grand and social, not too keen on old friends—has other fish to fry.’

‘She was dining with one tonight.’ Oliver was still angry. ‘She said she was going out with Hector when I telephoned.’

‘He’s in the House most nights, she can’t be expected to sit at home alone.’ Polly came to Calypso’s defence.

‘No need for her to lie.’

‘Well, that’s Calypso. She will be free another time. Try again, you may have better luck.’

‘She’s no Penelope.’ David exchanged a glance with Polly. ‘We went to her house last time we were up. Have you been there?’

‘No.’ Oliver noticed the change in the twins’ attitude. ‘You two used to sit there drooling. She loved it.’

‘You did too. She liked you better than us.’

‘Or Walter,’ Polly remarked. Then, noticing Oliver’s expression: ‘She’s married, got money, a lovely house, she entertains, is the wife of Hector Grant, she isn’t one of us any more.’

‘Is she happy?’

‘I think so. Next time you get leave give her notice. The twins did.’

‘How did you get on?’ Oliver looked from Paul to David. ‘Was she glad to see you?’

‘I suspect she prefers officers.’ David was ironic.

‘You’ll get commissions. Tell me about yourselves.’ Oliver suddenly wanted to drop the subject. ‘Where are you stationed? What are you doing?’

‘We are near Cambridge at the moment. We are escorting Sophy back to school tomorrow. We tried to get into bombers but they are training us for fighters. We could have been together in bombers, we thought in our innocence.’

‘How long before you are trained?’

‘Another month, less.’

‘And I am kicking my heels square bashing. God!’

‘Walter’s full of grumbles, too. They won’t have him in submarines. He says the Navy are sadists, that he’ll spend the war being sick.’ Polly yawned. ‘I’ve got to work tomorrow. I’m off to bed. If I’m gone in the morning before you wake don’t worry, come again whenever you like. There’s plenty of room. I’m in Mum and Dad’s room, the twins have got the spare room, you can have Walter’s. Sophy’s in mine. Goodnight.’

Oliver looked after her. ‘It’s not only Calypso who’s changed.’

‘We all have,’ the twins said. ‘Who would have thought a year ago we’d all be sitting round a kitchen table in fancy dress, the camomile lawn days over?’

‘You know I still can’t tell you two apart, can you, Sophy?’

‘No.’ Sophy grinned. ‘Nor can Polly.’

‘Nor the R.A.F. It’s like school. Perhaps the war will make some distinction.’

Sophy looked at the twins across the table, troubled. ‘Wound.’ She spoke in her clear voice. ‘Or kill.’

The twins looked at her. ‘You never know,’ they cried cheerfully. ‘Anything left to drink?’

‘There’s someone at the front door.’ Oliver stood up. ‘Who, at this hour?’

‘Go and see. Don’t wake Polly, she really works very hard.’

Oliver opened the front door, peering out. ‘Good Lord, Uncle Richard! What are you doing here?’

‘Looking for shelter.’ Richard limped indoors. ‘Got lost in the bloody blackout, difficult to see the numbers, what do they want a blackout for with a full moon, I ask you?’

Oliver shut the door. ‘We are in the kitchen. Polly’s gone to bed.’

‘Went to your house, found it shut up, nobody there. What happened to your maid?’

‘Joined the Wrens.’

‘Women in uniform, I ask you.’

‘Lots are. Why are you here, Uncle? Come down and have a drink or something. The twins are here and Sophy.’

‘What’s she doing here? Run away from school? No, don’t tell me, half term.’

‘German measles, actually.’ Oliver led his uncle down to the kitchen. The twins stood up politely.

‘Hullo, hullo, not conchies, then? Nice to see you. What’s this about measles?’

‘German.’ Sophy pecked his cheek. ‘Why are you in London? Aunt Helena never said—’

‘Germans, child. Well, they say they are Austrian but it’s all the same thing. Enemy aliens, I ask you, it’s ridiculous. Quiet respectable violinist, law-abiding. I told them. Cut your bloody red tape, I said, and let them out, costing the taxpayer a packet. The Rector and I will take care of them. What’s this? Gin? Oh, all right, if it’s all you’ve got. Been at the Home Office all the afternoon, absolutely bloody people, positive Huns in their methods, wound in red tape, can’t tell a simple violinist who can play the organ and wouldn’t hurt a fly—they’ve called up Tompkins, by the way, so we need him—from an enemy agent. Any more gin? Thanks. Not taking your last, I hope? Well, I got nowhere at the Home Office, didn’t do my leg any good, they passed me from one buffoon to another. Why aren’t they in the forces, I asked them. They didn’t like that, I can tell you. Go and lose a leg as I did, I told them. In the last war we didn’t sit on our bums in the Home Office, we fought. I saw six of the buggers. I ask you. Got nowhere, absolutely bloody nowhere. What are you all laughing at?’

‘Nothing, sir.’

‘Well, where was I? Oh yes, nowhere, so I didn’t give up, I’m not German, not that they’ve given up but they will, mark my words. I went along to the House of Commons and found that chap Calypso married and two friends of his. Good bar they’ve got there, by the way, and bingo, what do you think? This fellow, member for some Home County or other, tells me the Erstweilers are being released and arriving in London the day after tomorrow and none of those fellows sitting on their arses wound in red tape had heard, I ask you, what is the country coming to? Any more of that gin?’

Oliver poured the last of the gin into the outstretched glass. ‘So you’ve got the Erstweilers out?’

‘That’s what I said, made myself clear, didn’t I? I may have lost my leg but not my wits. Can’t see what’s so funny. Can’t think why you are all laughing.’ Putting his empty glass carefully onto the table, Richard Cuthbertson leant back, slid from the kitchen chair onto the floor and lay prone.

‘Mind the leg.’ Sophy hopped behind Oliver and the twins as they carried the unconscious figure up to bed.

‘T
RY AND RELAX.’ THE
lady doctor smiled down at Polly. ‘That was my idea in coming here.’ Polly lay on the couch.

The lady doctor stood warming her hands. ‘There, my hands are warm. I have always thought touching patients with cold hands the height of cruelty.’

‘Our doctor always made us jump as children.’

‘A man, I suppose.’

‘Yes. He gave us disgusting medicines, too.’

‘There, my dear, how’s that? Feel comfortable?’

‘Will it stay in?’

‘Goodness, yes. Now try it yourself, don’t hurry, remember what I said.’

Polly tried. ‘That right?’

‘Perfect. Do it again to make sure. I don’t want you getting home and panicking.’

‘I don’t think I’ll panic.’

‘I expect not. How old did you say you are?’

‘Nineteen.’

‘Are your parents pleased?’

‘I haven’t told them yet. My father’s a doctor. He’s been evacuated with his hospital, Mother’s with him.’

‘You seem the sort of girl who knows her own mind.’

‘I am.’

‘I hope you will both be very happy. It’s two people’s job to make a success of it.’

‘I realize that.’ Polly got off the couch. ‘Thank you very much.’ She smiled warmly. ‘The war doesn’t help,’ she added.

‘The war shouldn’t be allowed to destroy values.’ Seeing Polly’s face, the doctor added, ‘That’s my only bromide.’

‘I’m hanging on to my values.’ Polly held out her hand. ‘Thank you very much for your help.’

The older woman looked thoughtfully at Polly’s green eyes, bright hair. They shook hands. Her values are not the usual run of the mill, the doctor thought. She rang for the next patient. While she waited she watched Polly skip down the steps into the street and run a few yards before crossing the road. Rather a monkey, that one. She wondered what Polly was really up to. She had not seen any reason to tell her that she had trained with Martin. Any child of Martin Cuthbertson’s would be likely to manage her own business.

Polly went alone to see
The Wizard of Oz
and was singing ‘Somewhere over the Rainbow’ when she let herself into her parents’ house. She shut the street door and fumbled her way round the house, drawing the blackout curtains before switching on lights. A musty smell of tobacco and alcohol seeped down from the floor above her parents’ room, which she had made her own since there was a telephone beside the bed. She cursed Oliver and the twins who had disturbed her on their way up the night before. She had left without waking them that morning. She ran up to Walter’s room to fling open a window. A bitter wind blew in then sucked out the sour air. A lump on one of the beds groaned. Polly spun round. Unable to see, she tripped over an obstacle wrapped in cloth and fell full length on the floor.

‘Curse it!’

‘Who is that?’ A grumpy voice she recognized as her Uncle Richard’s emanated from the bed. Polly disentangled herself from his trousers, drew the curtains and switched on the light.

‘Uncle Richard, what are you doing here? I fell over your leg.’

‘Arrived last night. Must have overslept. What time is it?’

‘Sevenish.’

‘I’ll be up for breakfast.’

‘Supper. It’s seven in the evening.’

‘Oh.’ Her uncle dragged himself into a sitting position. Polly had never seen him grey and unshaven.

‘We were celebrating. I remember that. I wonder how I got here?’

‘I heard Oliver and the twins making an awful noise going to bed. I suppose they were putting you away.’

‘Where’s Sophy?’

‘The twins took her back to school this morning. That was their plan. They were all asleep when I went out.’

‘She was pleased about the Erstweilers.’

‘What about them?’

‘They are out, getting out. What day is it?’

‘Wednesday.’

‘Tomorrow they get to London.’

‘How thrilling! Did you do it?’

‘Pulled strings, made a fuss, got drunk, I remember now, brandy with Calypso’s Hector, gin when I got here, haven’t been drunk since 1918, not like that, what will Helena say, I ask you?’

‘No need to tell her. Why don’t you have a bath? I’ll see what I can find for supper. There’s a razor of father’s somewhere.’

‘Feel woeful.’ Richard Cuthbertson lay back with a groan. ‘Woe, woe.’

‘I’ll mix you some Alka Seltzer. When you’ve had a bath come down and have supper. I live in the kitchen nowadays.’ Polly went for Alka Seltzer and stood over her uncle as he drank it.

‘My God, how disgusting.’

‘It helps.’ Polly waited while he drained the glass.

‘I remember now, I had a few whiskies before going to the Home Office. You won’t tell Helena?’

‘Of course not.’

‘They all laughed last night when I told them what I’d said to those bureaucrats, found it funny. Helena finds me funny too, can’t think why, I never make jokes, do you find me funny?’

‘Not at the moment. Come down when you’re ready, Uncle. I’ll make some soup.’ Polly left him.

In the kitchen she laid places for two and started preparing a meal, humming Judy Garland’s tune as she worked. She was disturbed by a ring at the front door. She called up the area steps: ‘Who is it?’

‘It’s me, Calypso. Can I come in?’

‘Of course.’

Calypso felt her way down the area steps.

‘We are far more likely to break our necks doing this than get bombed. I’ve laddered my stockings tripping over the kerb.’

‘That’s not like you. Come in. What’s the matter?’ Polly looked at her cousin. Something was wrong. ‘What’s up?’

‘Just felt I’d like to see you. Hector’s in the House, thought a chat would be nice. I’ve hardly seen you since I married.’

‘What with your marriage and my job it’s not easy. What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing. Oh, are you expecting somebody?’ Calypso looked at the table. ‘I don’t want to butt in. Shall I go?’

‘It’s only Uncle Richard. He’s got the hell of a hangover, he seems to have been boozing with Hector. He’s in London getting the Erstweilers out from the Isle of Man. I found him in bed when I came in. Last night Oliver and the twins who were here put him away. I only just found him.’