Mistress of Greyladies (8 page)

His aunt looked at him in surprise. ‘I never thought I’d hear you say that again.’

‘I didn’t think I’d say it, either.’

‘She’s not of our class.’

‘No, but she’s intelligent. I feel really comfortable with her, as if I’ve known her all my life.’

‘It happens. If the feeling persists, don’t let anything stop you pursuing the attraction.’

He squeezed her hand, knowing she was thinking of herself and Podge. ‘There’s something else. I feel as if Phoebe’s lucky for me. I’m going to war. A lot of men will be killed. She seems like a guiding star who’ll see me through it all safely. Does that sound foolish?’

‘No more foolish than a lot of other things in a world idiotic enough to go to war instead of talking things out. Besides, we both know our family has these feelings – intuition, some call it. I’ve known my mother foretell things no one could possibly have guessed, and about complete strangers, too. They call it being psychic these days. It’s as good a word for the gift as any. So if you feel there’s
something special about Phoebe, well, go for it.’

‘I shall. But, given the war, it may be hard to keep in touch with her. Will you help me there? It’ll be easier for her to stay in touch with you. I’m being transferred and I don’t know where I’m being posted or what exactly I’ll be doing.’

She kissed his cheek. ‘Of course I will help, darling boy. Unless your young lady doesn’t improve on acquaintance.’

‘I’m not afraid of that. We spent time chatting last night, talking about real life, real feelings.’ He chuckled. ‘She doesn’t know how to flirt and turns scarlet at the slightest compliment. And yet she’s so pretty, you’d think she’d have grown used to men’s attentions.’

‘What about the chap you rescued her from? Who was he?’

‘Her mother’s cousin’s stepson, someone she doesn’t like. Frank Hapton, he’s called. He won’t have the faintest idea what’s happened to her now, will he? And if she’s got any sense, she’ll not go back to Swindon again.’

The clock in the hall chimed half past seven and Corin sighed. ‘I really have to go. I mustn’t be late for the war, must I?’

When Beaty came back to join her, Phoebe jerked upright. She’d nearly fallen asleep, felt utterly exhausted.

Her hostess sat down beside her on the sofa and patted her hand. ‘My nephew’s left now and I shall worry about him.’

‘I shall too,’ Phoebe admitted. ‘He’s a lovely person. He’s been so kind to me.’

‘He likes you too.’

She could feel herself going red.

Beaty smiled. ‘He said you blushed at compliments.’

‘I can’t help it, Your Ladyship.’

‘Don’t try to. It’s charming. And we agreed that you’d call me Beaty. Now, you need a rest, but I must tell you a little about this hostel first. I started it to help girls on their own in London, and to give myself something worthwhile to do after I lost dear old Podge. We’ll provide you with accommodation and meals, and help you to find a job. I’m afraid we’re a bit crowded. We’ve had to fit four beds to most rooms, because there are so many girls needing this sort of help. Luckily for you, I have a vacancy.’

‘That’s wonderful. I can pay for my keep.’

‘Not till you find a job – though you can help around the house. Those not working usually do.’ She stood up. ‘Now, let’s get you to bed before you fall asleep sitting upright.’

They stopped in the hall for Phoebe to collect her bag and Beaty led the way up the stairs.

She tapped on a door and called, ‘Are you decent?’

A young woman with wildly curly black hair opened it. ‘We’re just starting to get up.’

‘I have a newcomer needing a bed. Phoebe, meet Alice, Eleanor and Maude. Girls, Phoebe’s exhausted. She travelled up to London overnight. You can question her about her background later.’

She pointed to the only unoccupied bed, which was piled with clothes and said with mock severity, ‘Remove those at once. She needs somewhere to sleep. Anyway, if Ruth sees a mess like that, she’ll read you a lecture.’

They scrambled to reclaim their garments. One pile included some very pretty lingerie, of a sort that Phoebe had
never seen before. Knickers were edged in broderie anglaise to match a waist petticoat and camisole top.

One of the young women blushed and snatched up a small pile from the end. ‘Sorry. I was so tired last night I forgot to put my knicker liner in my laundry bag.’

‘That’s all right.’ That set of clothing was like her own, dull and old-fashioned, which was a relief.

Within five minutes, Phoebe had undressed behind a screen and was snuggling down in bed. She tried to listen to their conversation, wanting to find out about her new roommates, but couldn’t keep her eyes open.

She was woken at two o’clock that afternoon by Ruth.

‘Best you get up now, Phoebe, or you’ll never sleep tonight.’

‘Oh. Yes. Sorry.’

‘Nothing to apologise for. You needed a sleep, so we kept out of your way. Now, there’s a bathroom at each end of the corridor. No taking baths in the mornings, people are in too much of a hurry to get off to work, but you can book a bath for the evening any time. You can have a bath now, if you like. There’s no one else needing a bathroom. Here’s your towel. You’ll get a clean one every week. Don’t forget to wipe the bath out afterwards.’

‘I won’t.’

‘When you’re ready, Beaty would like to chat to you and I’ll bring you something to eat, to put you on till dinner. This is your chest of drawers, and you can hang up anything that needs it in the wardrobe by the window. You’ll be sharing it with Maude. Don’t go back to sleep, now.’

She whisked out and Phoebe stretched, enjoying the comfort of the bed and the fine cotton sheets. Then she got
up and took Ruth’s advice by having a quick bath in a lovely modern bathroom which had an indoor toilet and a big mirror over the washbasin. Such luxury!

She unpacked quickly. Well, there wasn’t much to unpack, was there? She’d had to leave some of her clothes and other possessions behind.

Beaty called out to come in when someone knocked at the sitting room door. She was sitting near the window at a desk strewn with papers and neatly slit envelopes, and she was glad of the interruption, being tired of office work, necessary as it was.

‘Shall I come back later, Lady – I mean, Beaty?’

‘No, dear. I’d welcome a break. Sit down and tell me what jobs you’ve had.’

‘I did any old job while I was looking after Mum: scrubbing, laundry, ironing, picking for farmers. I’ve worked in a curtain shop for the past two years and I was learning curtain making.’

As she explained about her mother and the Steins, Beaty saw tears well in her eyes. ‘Give me the full names of your Austrian friends and I’ll see if I can locate them. I may be able to get them sent somewhere a little less spartan, though it’ll probably take time. Do you want to find more shop work?’

‘I hadn’t really thought. I don’t mind what I do, actually. Things are bound to change with the war, aren’t they? Some of the men’s jobs will be vacant.’

‘Unfortunately, yes. People who say it’ll be over in a few months don’t know their history.’ Beaty sighed. ‘I shall worry about Corin and I have other young relatives who’ll be caught up in it, as well. But I must admit he’s my favourite nephew.’

Phoebe opened her mouth as if to comment, then shut it again, looking down at her skirt instead.

Daren’t talk about him, Beaty thought. Is she interested in him as a man or not? Perhaps she doesn’t think there can be anything between them. Or perhaps I’m getting ahead of myself. After all, they only met yesterday. Though that’s all it took with me and Podge.

‘Well, let’s get back to your needs, dear,’ she said aloud. ‘I think you need a few days to get used to London. I can show you round a few places, if you like.’ She cocked her head, waiting for an answer.

‘I can’t ask you to do that.’

‘Why not? I’ll be out and about, and you can simply come with me. If there’s some function or meeting I can’t take you to, I’ll send you home again or show you somewhere to wait for me. We’ll have fun.’ And she’d get to know Phoebe properly, see if she was worthy of Corin.

‘Oh. Well, if you’re sure, your l–um, Beaty, I mean. I’d love to do that.’

‘I’m very sure. And one other thing. If you’ve ever wanted to do some other type of job, one you’ll enjoy, now is the time to say. I know a lot of people, so I may be able to help you realise your ambition.’

‘I’ve never even thought of finding a job because I enjoy it, only because I need to earn a living.’ Phoebe hesitated. ‘You’re being very kind to a stranger.’

‘I try to be kind to all the young women who come to this hostel. I think of them as my girls. I never had children, though I’d have liked to. Now I’ve lost Podge, having a lot of young people around me helps keep my spirits up. I still miss my husband very much.’ She could see the understanding in
Phoebe’s eyes and wasn’t surprised by the next confidence.

‘I still miss my mother, though it’s over two years since she died.’

‘Well, then. We can provide some company for one another as you get to know London. Now, go and have a look round the other rooms on this floor. There are two sitting rooms, a quiet room and a library. You can choose a book if you enjoy reading. Just write down what you’ve borrowed on the list. The evening meal is at seven o’clock.’

When Phoebe had left, Beaty stared thoughtfully at the door. Corin was right. The young woman was easy to talk to. You found yourself telling her things you didn’t normally share with strangers.

There had to be a better job for someone like her than serving in a shop.

Especially if Corin continued to take an interest in her.

Beaty turned back to the desk, sighed at the sight of the papers, then paused, one hand stretched out to pick up an envelope, as an idea struck her.

Phoebe enjoyed getting to know London, and one week stretched into two. She helped in the house and went out and about with Beaty. It felt as if the country was hovering, as if the war hadn’t really started, then one day her pleasure was marred by the sight of men in uniforms, marching or driving around, looking serious and busy.

One morning she was walking past Waterloo Station, on an errand for Beaty, when she saw a line of horse-drawn ambulances lined up outside. Like other passers-by, she slowed down to see what was happening.

‘It’s some poor wounded soldiers sent back from the war,’ a plump, motherly woman told her. ‘They’ll bring out those who can walk first, then the men on stretchers. I saw another group arriving yesterday. They’ll be taking them to hospitals in London first, but one of the orderlies told me they’ll send most of them out to country hospitals tomorrow. Except for those who’re badly wounded and need operations.’

‘I hadn’t expected this to happen so quickly,’ Phoebe said. But of course, she should have. If the fighting had
started, there would inevitably be casualties, even on the first day.

‘They haven’t wasted time hurting one another,’ another woman said bitterly. ‘I’ve a son in the army. He’s just gone out there. I can’t bear to see this.’ Her voice broke and she hurried away.

‘It’s only the beginning,’ an older man said gloomily. ‘It’ll be far worse than those damned Boer Wars, this one will, because the weapons have got nastier.’

Phoebe couldn’t move on till she’d seen what was happening, and she soon found that the woman next to her was right. The walking wounded came out first, escorted by orderlies and a few young women.

‘Those nurses look so young,’ she exclaimed involuntarily.

‘Bless you, they aren’t nurses.’

‘What are they, then? Those look like nurses’ uniforms.’

‘That’s the uniform of the VADs, voluntary aid detachments, that stands for. They’re nursing aides or they do other jobs as well, driving, cleaning, whatever’s needed. This group are Red Cross VADs and they arrived not long ago to help out. They wear blue dresses with a red cross on the apron bib. See it?’

‘Oh, yes. They look very smart, don’t they?’

‘Yes, they do. My cousin’s youngest volunteered to be a VAD, but she’s with St John. They wear grey dresses with a St John VAD armband. They’re not as pretty.’

‘Them lasses won’t care whether they look pretty or not when they’re dealing with blood and worse,’ the gloomy man said, determined to look on the black side. ‘I was an orderly. I’ll never forget the things I saw.’

‘Don’t be so grumpy. That won’t help us win the war,’
the plump woman scolded. ‘The soldiers will care once they start getting better. Nothing like a pretty face to cheer a man up, whether he’s young or old.’

Phoebe took her time walking back to the hostel, needing to think about what she’d seen. She couldn’t get the sight of the injured men out of her mind and envied those helping them.

By the time she arrived, she was certain what she wanted to do, so went to see Beaty immediately. ‘You asked me to consider what to do with my life. Well, while this war is on, I’d like to become a VAD. If they’ll have me, that is.’

‘You’re sure about this? Are you any good at dealing with blood and gore, or scrubbing floors?’

‘I’ve been scrubbing floors ever since I was big enough to do it because Mum was always sickly. I’ve also worked on farms, killing chickens, helping when they killed pigs. And I looked after my mother, who was helpless at the end.’

Beaty studied her face intently, then nodded. ‘Well, volunteering to become a VAD is a very worthwhile thing. I’ll take you to see my friend Rosemary. She’ll advise you.’

‘Thank you.’ Phoebe hesitated, then gestured towards the desk. ‘In the meantime, is there any way I can help you with the letters and deskwork? I can’t help noticing that the papers are piling up and you’re always so busy.’

‘I think the papers on my desk breed overnight. There always seem to be twice as many in the morning.’ She sighed. ‘I’ve never been good at keeping up with letters, let alone doing accounts. I was thinking of asking you if you’d like to stay here and help me permanently, act as my secretary. You seem an intelligent sort of girl.’ She cocked her head on one side, as if asking her young companion to consider this alternative.

Phoebe didn’t have to think about that for long. ‘I think I’m a more active person, Beaty. I like
doing
things better than dealing with paperwork. But if there’s anything I can do, I’ll be glad to help you till I find a job. You might like to consider asking Maude, though. She’s not strong and she’s finding her job in the shop very tiring physically.’

‘That droopy little creature in the old-fashioned clothes?’ Beaty grimaced.

‘You could take her in hand. She’s shy but she’s not stupid. You’d be just the person to bring her appearance up to scratch.’

‘Hmm. You may be right. It’s worth a try.’

Phoebe went upstairs, feeling better than she had for a while. She wanted to serve her country, didn’t see why men should be the only ones to do that. And she especially wanted to help the soldiers who were risking their lives.

Like Corin.

Ruth came to find her half an hour later. ‘Captain McMinty’s here to see you.’

‘To see me? Not his aunt?’

‘Beaty’s gone out, so he asked for you. Men aren’t allowed to come up here to the bedrooms, so I’ve put him in the sitting room. No one else is there at this time of day.’

‘I wonder what he wants.’

‘I asked. He wants to take you out for luncheon.’

‘Oh.’ Phoebe could feel herself blushing. ‘Do you think I should go?’

‘Oh, yes. He can be trusted to toe the line. I wouldn’t advise it with some fellows, who’re only after one thing.’ She shook her head, smiling slightly. ‘You aren’t used to
dealing with young men of any sort, are you?’

‘No. I’ve never had time, let alone I never met anyone I was interested in.’

‘Well, you’d better get used to fellows if you’re going to help look after them as a VAD. They’ll pester a pretty one like you.’

‘Even if they’re ill?’

‘
Because
they’re ill. They’ll have nothing to think about except what’s going on around them.’

‘Oh.’

‘It can be fun, you know, flirting. I may not look much now, but I had my share of followers and fun when I was younger. But I never wanted to get married.’

‘Can I ask why not?’

‘I was the oldest in my family. I’d helped raise six brothers and sisters, and I didn’t want to raise any more children.’

Phoebe wanted children. One day. After the war. Oh, she did!

Corin looked up as Phoebe came into the sitting room to join him. He’d come to ask his aunt out to lunch, and when he found that Beaty was out, it had been an impulse to ask for Phoebe and invite her instead.

For a few moments he could only stare at her. She seemed far prettier than he remembered. ‘I wondered if you’d like to go out to lunch with me? I’d enjoy some company.’

She hesitated, then gave in to temptation. ‘Yes. I’d like that very much. You’re looking awfully smart today, Captain.’

He stared down at his uniform. ‘For what that’s worth. They’re sticklers on the officers presenting well. But things are changing rapidly at the moment. There are youngsters of
eighteen coming out of school cadet units, who are starting off as second lieutenants and going straight into commanding men. That’s not always a good thing.’

She gave him one of her long, level looks. ‘You sound rather discouraged about it all.’

‘To tell you the truth, I was thinking of leaving the army. I can’t do that now, of course. Have to wait till the war’s over.’

‘You mentioned on the train that you don’t always like the way things are done in the army.’

‘Did I? Well, keep that to yourself now. It’d sound like treason to some of the high-ups.’ He gestured towards the door. ‘If you’d like to get your coat and hat, we could stroll to the restaurant. It’s not far and I think the rain will hold off till later.’

When she rejoined him, wearing a very dowdy coat and a hat that wasn’t much better, he smiled at her, feeling better merely for seeing her serious expression, clear grey eyes and that lovely russet hair. He’d met a lot of beautifully turned out, but insincere women, to his cost.

When they went out into the hall, Ruth called down from the landing, ‘Wait a minute! I’ve got something for you.’

She ran down the stairs and took Phoebe’s hat off before she could protest. ‘Never wear that ugly thing again. You can keep this one. Beaty never wears it, because it doesn’t flatter her, but it’ll suit you.’

‘I can’t do that!’

Ruth held the old hat out of reach. ‘If I didn’t think you’d need this horrible thing when you’re trudging around the countryside in all weathers, I’d stamp on it.’

Corin couldn’t hold back any longer. He burst out laughing. ‘I thought the old Ruth had been tamed.’

She winked at him. ‘Not completely. Am I right about the hat?’

‘Yes, definitely. Do keep it, Phoebe. Ruth used to be my aunt’s dresser and she’s really good at choosing clothes that flatter. You deserve better than that thing.’ He offered his arm to her and they left the house.

As they began to walk along the street, she asked, ‘Was the old hat really that bad?’

‘I’m afraid so.’

‘It wasn’t my best hat. I had to leave some of my clothes behind when I ran away from the farm.’

‘It wouldn’t have mattered too much to me. The hat, I mean. Not as long as you continue to give me your lovely smiles.’

And of course that made her blush again.

Once they were seated in a quiet restaurant, he asked what she’d been doing with herself, desperate to talk about something other than the army.

‘Learning to get around in London, with your aunt’s help. It made me nervous at first, but I’m getting more used to it now. I’ve been thinking what I want to do with myself and I decided this morning that I’d like to join the VADs – if they’ll have me, that is. Beaty says she’ll help me get an interview.’

‘A nursing aide? Are you sure?’

‘It’s not exactly nursing, because I’m not a trained nurse. It’s helping nurses and patients with whatever they’re trying to do, and even driving motor vehicles. I’d really like to learn to drive a car.’

‘It’ll be a bloody business, this war, and if you’re attached to hospitals, you’ll see some terrible things. There are other
ways you could help, ways that wouldn’t be as upsetting.’

She shook her head stubbornly, so he added, ‘Modern weapons carve up soft human bodies in dreadful ways, Phoebe. How will you feel dealing with men who have no legs, because they’ve been blown off, or men whose faces are mangled?’

He heard her suck in her breath and wondered if he’d gone too far.

She answered quietly but firmly, ‘I grew up near farms. I’m used to killing and dismembering animals. I’ll cope. Someone has to do it, after all. Such men deserve the best we can offer them, don’t you think?’

‘You’re an amazing woman.’

‘
Me?
No, I’m not.’ She fiddled with the food on her plate.

He changed the subject, though it was fun making her blush.

As they were finishing their dessert, he dared to ask her to write. ‘They’ll probably post me somewhere outside London before I go to the front. Will you write to me?’

‘If you like.’

‘I’d like it very much. And whatever happens to you or to me, you’ll stay in touch? You can do that through my aunt.’

She nodded.

‘I shall look forward to getting to know you better.’ Beyond that, he wasn’t prepared to go, as yet. There were hard times ahead. She shouldn’t tie herself to a man whose future was so precarious.

Not only was she still finding her way in life, but the world was changing quickly around them. ‘Don’t cut off your lovely hair,’ he said suddenly.

‘Why not?’

‘It’s beautiful.’

‘Red hair? I used to get called “Foxy” when I was little.’

‘Your hair is auburn. Titian hair. Artists love it.’

‘What a lovely compliment!’ She fingered a strand of hair that had drifted free to caress her cheek.

A few years ago he’d believed he’d lost everything that mattered to him on a personal level. He hadn’t coped well.

Perhaps he had been shown the way towards a new start. It felt like it, anyway.

When she got back, Phoebe decided to tackle her clothes. The other girls at the hostel had been urging her to bring her clothing up to date. She needed a few new garments, but would wait until she found out what she’d be doing before she bought anything. No use buying fashionable clothes if she was going to be working in the country.

The way the other girls talked about the world and men as they sewed together in the evenings was very enlightening. Some of them were very modern young women and others, like her, were fumbling into the new ways. Some were from comfortable backgrounds; others, like her, came from poorer families. But they all got on well together. Ruth and Beaty wouldn’t have allowed any quarrels or spiteful behaviour, she was sure.

Phoebe had been wondering about having her hair bobbed. It’d be much easier to manage and wash. But remembering what Corin had said, she decided to leave it long. She shouldn’t be thinking of pleasing him, but she consoled herself with the thought that it’d cost less to keep her hair long, because she wouldn’t need to spend money on having it trimmed regularly.

She couldn’t stop thinking about Corin, going over their conversations in her mind. He was above her in status, with a background so different, he couldn’t be thinking of courting her seriously … could he? Only some of the things he said seemed like hints.

She waited for Beaty to say something disapproving about their outing, but her kind hostess only asked how it had gone.

‘I hope you cheered him up.’

‘Does he need cheering up?’

‘Yes. He has done for a while.’

But Beaty didn’t explain what she meant by that and Phoebe didn’t like to ask too many questions about him.