Inherit the Skies (50 page)

Naturally enough it was the contribution to the war effort of the newly formed air squadrons which aroused most interest at Chewton Leigh House for already Gilbert's predictions that their part would not be limited to scouting and reconnaissance had proved accurate. At the end of September the Eastchurch Squadron of the RNAS had carried out a raid on airship sheds at Cologne and though they had been shot at from the ground they had returned virtually unscathed.

A problem had arisen however – the Union Jacks that were painted on the tails of the aircraft could all too easily be mistaken for the German Iron Cross and a new identification had to be found to ensure the British guns did not attack their own.

‘I understand it is being replaced by a roundel,' Gilbert told Lawrence over breakfast one morning. ‘Circles of red, white and blue that even a blind man could identify.'

‘Good idea …' Lawrence broke off, clapping his hand over his mouth as one of his spasms of coughing overtook him and Blanche regarded them both with profound disapproval.

‘Do we have to talk about the war at breakfast? I must say I am becoming heartily sick of it. And Lawrence – that cough of yours is no better is it? Don't you think it's high time you saw Dr Haley and got something for it?'

‘I'm sorry …' Lawrence managed between spasms.

‘Do something about it then! It is irritating, to say the least …' She broke off as the door opened and Alicia came in. ‘Ah – Alicia, at last. I was beginning to think you had decided not to join us this morning.'

Alicia glanced at her with dislike. She was wearing a plain dress of dark grey wool, very different from the flamboyant clothes that had once been her trademark, and her hair had been scraped up hastily rather than carefully arranged as it had used to be. As she served herself with coffee Blanche noticed with distaste that her fingers were grained with the marks of coaldust.

‘I have to attend to Hugh before I breakfast these days,' she said coolly.

Blanche's lips tightened. ‘This shortage of servants is becoming intolerable.'

Alicia ignored her, turning instead to Gilbert.

‘Father, I have been thinking. I am very glad to do what I can for Hugh but I am not sure it is enough. He was telling me last night about his friends – officers like him who have been wounded and need peace and quiet and country air to recover from their ordeal. But not all of them are as lucky as he is with a home like Chewton Leigh. I'd like to have some of them here.'

A small frown puckered Gilbert's forehead. A change had come over Alicia; even he, engrossed as he was in the business of running the works with all the increased pressures that war had brought, had not failed to notice it. Now, looking at her set and determined face, it struck him that she was not a happy young woman.

‘What exactly had you in mind?' he enquired.

‘We have plenty of room. Perhaps we could offer some of them a place to convalesce.'

‘You mean turn Chewton Leigh into some kind of hospital?' Blanche asked incredulously.

‘Not a hospital exactly. Obviously we couldn't cope with men still in need of proper medical treatment. But when they reach the stage Hugh is at, it is more a case of providing them with good food, a comfortable bed and a sympathetic ear. And a garden to walk in when the weather improves.'

‘And who would look after them, pray?'

Alicia sipped her coffee. ‘Perhaps some of the girls who are unwilling to take on domestic posts would see things in a different light if they were working to nurse men who have fought for king and country,' she said, not looking at her stepmother.

‘Ah! You mean it as a ploy!' Blanche smiled thinly. ‘Well I would certainly be very much in favour of anything that brought our domestic staff back up to full strength. I suppose I could endure a few strangers in the guest rooms for a while if that were to be the case.'

Alicia eyed her stepmother with dislike. ‘I didn't mean that at all. I was looking at it as our contribution to the war effort and thinking of the good we could do.'

And of the handsome young men you could have here in your husband's absence, thought Blanche, but even she did not dare say it.

‘And what would your part be in all this?' she asked instead.

‘I am sure if I spent a short while in a Red Cross hospital I would soon learn enough to be able to supervise the nursing staff,' Alicia said smoothly. ‘Dr Haley would be prepared to act as medical officer for us I know and as I said we would be taking on convalescent cases only.'

‘I believe you have taken leave of your senses!' Blanche declared.

‘I think Alicia is right,' Lawrence said. He had recovered from his coughing fit now. ‘If there is a need for convalescent homes and we can provide one then I think we should do it.'

‘And what about those of us who live here?' Leo enquired raising his nose from his copy of
The Times
. ‘We are working long hours to build the aeroplanes that are needed. We could do without the inconvenience of sick men in the drawing-room. If you ladies want to do something for the war effort I suggest you confine yourselves to knitting socks or running bazaars to raise money for the plum pudding fund.'

Alicia glared at him. ‘Don't patronise, Leo. Well, Father, what do you say? It's your house – the decision is yours.'

Gilbert smoothed his moustache with his index finger. For once he had a certain amount of sympathy with Leo – coming home after a hard day at the works to have to be polite, if not sociable, to strangers suffering from various degrees of shell-shock was not the most engaging of prospects. But it was good to see Alicia taking an interest in something again and commendable that she should want to do her bit for the war effort.

‘Well, Alicia, it would be up to you to make the arrangements,' he said. ‘I want no part in it. And we must stipulate that the patients would be at the convalescent stage. I have no desire to be called from my bed to play Florence Nightingale. But if you think you can manage and your heart is set on it then you have my blessing.'

Alicia's face lit up. She set down her half-drunk cup of coffee and scraped back her chair.

‘Oh thank you, Father! Will you excuse me? I must tell Hugh!'

She ran from the room leaving the other Morses to wonder just what she would be letting them all in for.

In the days that followed, those days which in other years had been filled with gathering holly and mistletoe to deck the house, supervising the trimming of the eight-foot tall fir tree which always occupied pride of place in the drawing-room, wrapping presents and penning greetings, Alicia was busy making preparations to receive her convalescent officers. Four of the bedrooms on the upper floor were made ready and the old nursery opened up to provide a day room. With fires blazing in the grates to thoroughly air the rooms the whole house seemed a little warmer and brighter. Two village women had been persuaded to come in to help with the preparation but they were amazed and not a little outraged to see Alicia with a scrubbing brush and bucket of water washing skirting boards and window sills alongside them.

‘It's not right!' they whispered to one another. ‘ Miss Morse – well, Mrs Bailey as she is now – with her hands all red and spreathed!'

But times were changing. England was at war and Alicia was totally obsessed with getting her convalescent home operational as soon as possible. She had set her sights on receiving her first patients in time for Christmas but this was not to be. The Red Cross were unable to give her the basic training she required until the New Year and so the rooms, smelling of soap and polish and sweet woodsmoke, remained empty and Christmas was celebrated by the family alone.

Because Eric had not been given any leave for Christmas Sarah was invited to Chewton Leigh, she and Stephen motoring over in the smart new Morris which Eric had bought just before the outbreak of war when he had taught Sarah to drive.

‘As far as I am concerned you could have stayed here,' Gilbert said when they arrived, warmly wrapped up and laden with presents, their faces rosy from the biting wind. ‘But Alicia has taken over the spare rooms.'

‘There is no-one in them yet,' Leo objected, taking the opportunity to register his disapproval of the conversion of his home into an infirmary.

‘No, but if they are used they will have to be cleaned all over again,' Alicia said. ‘ We can't put wounded men in rooms where they might get some infection.'

‘That is all very well, but it is an inconvenience,' Blanche said haughtily. ‘Leo would have liked to invite Emily Sellers to stay for the holiday, wouldn't you, Leo?'

‘Her father would never have allowed it,' Alicia said scornfully.

‘Not without Leo getting formally engaged – and he's not going to do that.'

For the past year Leo had been paying court to Emily, whose father, the Reverend Michael Sellers had the living of the next parish. But whenever the family teased him about the imminence of wedding bells Leo made it crystal clear that he had not the slightest intention of walking down the aisle with Emily or anyone else for a good long while.

‘That is as may be but I still say it is an inconvenience. Rooms empty, people wanting to stay and not able to, and all because of a handful of officers who may not ever arrive.'

‘Please don't worry on my account,' Sarah said hastily. ‘I am quite happy to go home …' She broke off, suddenly aware of Hugh, sitting in the deep wing chair beside the roaring fire.

‘Hello Sarah. My goodness, you are a sight for sore eyes.' His voice was light, amused as ever, but it was a parody somehow of the old gaiety and she thought how much thinner and older he looked, as if he had left the last of his boyhood rosiness in the mud of France. ‘I'm sorry I can't get up. You'll have to come over here to wish me a merry Christmas!'

She did so, offering him her cheek because she knew it was expected of her but feeling a prickle of revulsion, nonetheless. Was it just imagination or was there a lecherous look now in those slightly sunken blue eyes? Was his true nature beginning to show through or was it simply that knowing him for what he was gave her the perception to see what had always been there?

‘Mama – there's a present for me hanging on the tree! I can see it – it's got my name on it!' Stephen trilled.

‘Is there? Just imagine, Father Christmas must have known you would be here!'

‘Mama, I want to open it? Please may I?'

‘Later. You must be patient, Stephen.'

‘Have an orange, old chap.' Hugh took one from the bowl on the small pedestal table beside it and offered it to Stephen. ‘Or would you prefer some nuts? I can't reach those, but if you'd like to bring me some and the nutcrackers I'll break them open for you.'

Stephen ran off in search of the nutcrackers and Hugh said: ‘He's a fine boy, Sarah. Eric is a lucky man.' But the expression in his eyes told Sarah that it was not so much Eric's good fortune in having Stephen as a son that he was referring to as the fact that he envied the easy access to Sarah. She felt the colour rushing to her cheeks and spun round afraid the others might notice something amiss. But they were laughing and chattering with the effervescent good cheer of Christmas morning. Only Alicia was looking at them, violet eyes narrowed like a cat's, one corner of her mouth raised quizzically. This morning, in a cherry red skirt and high-necked white blouse trimmed with cherry ribbons she looked much more like her old self.

‘Well Sarah!' she said playfully. ‘Christmas without our husbands! What ever shall we do?'

But Alicia did not have to spend Christmas without her husband. To everyone's surprise Adam arrived in time for lunch having been given permission to leave the camp, where everything had stopped for Christmas, and drive over from Upavon.

When she heard his voice in the hall Sarah's heart began to pound unevenly and she wondered if he would ever fail to affect her in this way – especially when she was taken unawares. But at least she had become practised at concealing her feelings. When he came into the room she was sufficiently in control of herself to greet him as she would have greeted any old friend and when Alicia took his arm, leading him over to the fire, she was able to hide the sharp pain that could still catch her like a stitch in her side to see them together.

Adam was in uniform and very well it suited him, Sarah thought, the double-breasted cut of the jacket seeming to lend breadth to his chest and the high boots making his legs look long and muscular. The sight of the uniform fascinated Stephen too. He gave up bothering to be allowed to open his Christmas tree package and attached himself to Adam instead, pointing at the various buttons and buckles and asking: ‘What is that for? Why have you got so many of those …?'

‘Stephen, do leave Uncle Adam alone for five minutes!' Sarah told him but Adam merely smiled.

‘He's not doing any harm, Sarah. Did you know, Stephen, that your daddy has a uniform like this one?'

‘And what is happening to the war whilst you are here enjoying Christmas luncheon?' Leo asked when the meal had been served.

‘It has stopped.' Adam looked around the table, saw the incredulous faces and smiled. ‘True. Hostilities have ceased, for today at least. Both sides have laid down their weapons and are celebrating Christmas behind their lines.'

‘Good God!' Hugh said. Alicia had helped him to the table; now he sat between her and Blanche and, to her discomfort, opposite Sarah. As he toyed with his food she noticed a quiver in his hands that had not been there before and occasionally his head jerked upwards with a peculiar flicking movement. ‘Good God!' he said again.

‘Exactly.' Gilbert piled vegetables onto his plate and passed them around the table; there were not enough staff to serve them now, especially on Christmas Day. ‘ Christmas is, after all, a time of good will to all men.'