Octavia's War (24 page)

‘Can't stop. I'm off to meet Tubby and the others. Never known a rush like this one. We've been at it since the news broke. Still that's war for you. See you soon.'

She stood in the hall with the receiver still in her hand, and was battered by so many emotions that it was all she could do to absorb them. Disappointment that she wouldn't see him until after Christmas, pride in him because he was at the centre of momentous events, annoyance because he'd told her so quickly and been in such a rush, almost as if he wasn't thinking about her at all, and irritation at herself because she was being petty. But underneath it all, purring away like a contented cat, an undeniable and really rather shaming sense of relief.

The staff at Roehampton Secondary School welcomed the news about Pearl Harbour and America's entry into the war with unreserved approval. Like everyone else they deplored the loss of life but were glad that America was off the fence at last.

‘We've certainly got something to celebrate this Christmas,' Morag Gordon said. ‘We must make it a special occasion.'

That was the general opinion at the first staff meeting after the news broke. More than half the girls were going back to London to spend Christmas with their families. That was an established pattern. But there were nearly a hundred and twenty who would be spending the holiday either in their billets or at Downview and they needed something to lift their spirits. There was the sixth form pantomime of course but that was on the last day of term. What could be done on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day? A party certainly, which Sarah Fletcher would organise, carols round the Christmas tree on Christmas Eve, led by Jenny Jones, the best Christmas dinner they could contrive, given the restrictions of the rationing system, decorations for the tables and the hall by Phillida Bertram and her team and a gift for every girl.

‘Let's have a bran tub,' Joan Marshall suggested. ‘We can
have lots of games at the party and give a present to every winner. We've got three prefects with us this year and they're going to help with the games. I bet they'd make a bran tub too if we asked them.'

‘Where would we get the sawdust?' Jenny asked.

‘Oh, they'll find some somewhere,' Joan said. ‘There's bound to be a wood-yard somewhere around. I'll ask Lizzie.'

‘Bit of luck she's with us this year, if you ask me,' Morag said. ‘I thought she'd go home to be with her father.'

‘He's in Washington,' Joan said. ‘She told me about it yesterday.'

‘'I'll bet that didn't please her,' Morag said. ‘She's so fond of her father. It must be hard to be parted from him, especially at this time of year.'

Octavia listened to them and kept her counsel, wondering what they would say if they knew the true state of affairs – and thinking what an apposite word that was in the present situation. There were times when knowing so much about her staff and her pupils made her feel isolated.

‘Actually,' Joan said, ‘she's taking it quite well. She's a sensible girl. I think she's throwing herself into the life of the school instead.'

She would have been surprised to see their sensible girl at that moment, for it wasn't the life of the school she was throwing herself into, it was the arms of her lover.

The two of them were walking on Horsell Common as the afternoon darkened into night, well hidden among the bushes, stopping to kiss at every tenth step and clinging to one another with every kiss, lost to sensation. ‘It's so good to be home,' Ben said, between kisses. ‘Darling, darling Lizzie, you don't know how I've missed you.'

‘I do,' Lizzie said. ‘I've missed you the same way. It's been such a long time. They could have let you come home before this.'

‘Kiss me again.'

And again. And again until their lips were sore.

‘I love you so much,' he said, holding her close. The need to go further than kisses was making him tremble.

‘You're cold,' she said, putting her hand against his cheek. It felt warm enough but he
was
shivering.

‘No,' he told her, ‘it's not that.' They were both bundled against the weather, he in his army greatcoat and a khaki muffler, she in her thickest winter coat, her fur hat, her fur-lined boots and two woollen scarves, so they were warm enough. ‘It's just kissing you makes me tremble, that's all. It makes me want to… It makes me wish I could…'

They stood cheek to cheek as the night wind blew around them and the stars sent pinpoints of light towards them from the blue/black heights of the sky. They were lost to the delights of a powerful temptation. ‘I wish we could go home to our own house,' he said, ‘and go to bed in our own bed, without all these stupid clothes getting in the way, and be right away from everyone else, where no one can see us, and stay together all night.' Thinking such a thing made him tremble again. ‘Oh my dear, darling Lizzie. I love you so much.'

‘Kiss me,' she said. At least kisses were possible, even if everything else was a dream.

They kissed for a very long time, as they always did. But eventually they came to their senses and he remembered that he'd got to walk her back to the school and looked at his watch.

‘What time is it?' she asked.

‘Bit late,' he admitted. ‘Not much though. We've got time to…'

She turned his hand so that she could see the clock face herself. ‘It's very late,' she said. ‘I shall have to go.'

He couldn't bear the thought of parting from her. ‘Not yet.'

‘I gave Smithie my word.'

‘There are times,' he said, ‘when I don't like your Smithie one little bit.'

‘She's an ally,' Lizzie told him. ‘I made a bargain with her and I'm going to keep it. Come on.' And she set off along the path, walking briskly to show him she meant it.

Now that they'd stopped kissing he remembered that he had something to ask her. ‘Aunt Min said I was to ask you what you're doing at Christmas,' he said. ‘I suppose you're going home to your father, aren't you.'

‘No,' she said. ‘I'm not. He's gone to Washington. He'll be there till the New Year.'

‘Good,' Ben said, and when she gave him a quizzical look, added, ‘Not good he's in Washington. I don't mean that. Although I suppose that's good in a way. Politically good anyway. I mean, good you'll be here. How would you like to come to Christmas dinner with my Aunt Min?'

It was asked casually, almost as if it wasn't important, but they both knew exactly how very important it was. She was going to be introduced to his family. ‘Yes,' she said, ‘if it's all right. I mean, I wouldn't want to impose on her, with the rations and everything.'

He put his arm round her and gave her a hug. She was the dearest girl to be concerned. ‘'Course it's all right,' he said. ‘It was her idea. I'll call for you on Christmas morning and we can spend the whole day together in the warm. How would that be?'

Not quite as good as spending the whole day in bed would have been, but good enough. ‘Blissful,' she said.

‘The other thing is…' he began and then stopped. Maybe he was rushing her and he didn't want to do that.

‘What other thing?' she said.

Her expression was encouraging, wasn't it? She was smiling. Looking happy. He took a necessary breath and plunged into the unknown. ‘How would you like to get engaged?'

He knew as soon as the words were out of his mouth that he
was
rushing her because her face changed. Now it was clouded and anxious. ‘I can't,' she said. ‘I'm at school. I mean, you can't be engaged when you're at school, now can you? Anyway I've got to be discreet. I promised Smithie.'

He persisted because she wasn't exactly turning him down. ‘But would you like to?'

‘Yes,' she said, ‘'course I would. You know I would. Only I don't see how we can.'

‘Then I can buy you a ring?'

That was possible. ‘Yes.'

‘And you'll wear it at Christmas?'

That was possible too. She could wear it on her finger when she was with him and hang it on a ribbon round her neck under her jersey when she was at school.

‘We'll buy it on Christmas Eve,' he said. ‘First thing when I get back.' And kissed her to seal the bargain.

It wasn't until she was inside the hall at Downview that Lizzie realised exactly what she'd promised. An engagement means we'll be getting married, she thought, and heaven only knows what Pa will say if I tell him that. And I shall have to tell him sooner or later. It's not something you can keep a secret. He'll go bananas. Fortunately, she didn't have much chance to dread it because Miss Marshall bumped into her on the stairs and Miss Marshall was full of some plan to make a bran tub for Christmas and was bubbling with excitement.
‘I'll tell you all about it tomorrow morning,' she said. ‘You'll help us with it, won't you.'

‘Yes,' Lizzie said, vaguely, ‘of course.' She didn't really care about bran tubs and Christmas but you couldn't say no to Miss Marshall when she'd got a bee in her bonnet and, anyway, she was suddenly very tired and needed to go to bed.

‘Good show,' Miss Marshall said. ‘See you at breakfast.'

She was even more excited at breakfast than she'd been the previous evening. ‘You'll need a group to help you,' she said, ‘to wrap up the presents and decorate the tub and that sort of thing. I should think about four or five but if more of them offer you can always use them. There's a wood-yard in Horsell. I've got the address. I suggest you go down on Monday morning and see what they say. You'll need a wheelbarrow to get it back here, of course, when the time comes, but we've got one in the garden that should do. What larks, eh?'

After a weekend of delicious but achingly unsatisfied lovemaking, Lizzie was tired on Monday morning and could have done without a trip to a wood-yard. But she'd given her word, so she and Polly gathered their team and all eight of them set off through the damp air to find the yard. It was at the bottom of Brewery Road, just past Horsell Moor, and they knew they'd come to the right place because they could smell the wood even before they walked through the gates.

There was a boy in overalls walking across the yard with a cigarette between his lips. He was a bit taken aback to see a gang of schoolgirls chattering towards him but when Lizzie told him why they'd come, he took his cigarette out of his mouth and told her she wanted Bert. ‘He's the foreman,' he explained. ‘I'll get him for you. Hold on a tick.'

Bert was a long time coming and after a while the juniors sat down on a pile of planks to wait for him. Iris had bought a
tube of Horlicks tablets, which they passed round like sweets. Poppy stamped her feet and put her hands in her armpits and complained that she was getting cold. Lizzie thought of Ben and wondered what he was doing. She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't notice the foreman's arrival and looked up to find that he was standing right in front of her, a tall, thick-set man, with a kind smile and eyes as brown as Ben's.

‘How can I help you, ladies?' he said.

The juniors giggled at being called ladies and Lizzie explained their errand.

His answer was immediate and practical. ‘You can have as much sawdust as you want,' he said. ‘Have you got a tub? No. Try the hardware shop. They're the ones. Get your tub, bring it back here and we'll fill it for you. I'll tell Tom to look after you. OK?'

‘What a nice man,' Poppy said as they left the yard. ‘So what do we do now?'

‘Go and see if we can buy a tub,' Lizzie said, ‘and if we can, we'll go back to Downview and get the wheelbarrow to put it in. Come on.'

It took them all morning and Iris said it was the best fun ever, even though pushing the loaded wheelbarrow up the hill was jolly hard work. They had to take it in turns to do it, working in pairs because it was so heavy. But the excitement when the tub was set up in the hall made all the effort well worthwhile.

‘We're the heroines of the hour,' Iris grinned.

‘Never mind that,' Poppy said, taking off her gloves and examining her fingers. ‘I've got chilblains coming.'

But Christmas is coming too, Lizzie thought, and I'm going to meet Aunt Min.

Emmeline and Octavia had a full house that Christmas for, although Tommy wasn't with them, Dora and John and David were so they sat nine to the table and, without Tommy's contribution to the feast, Emmeline was hard put to it to provide sufficient food for them all. The rations had been increased over the Christmas period as they usually were and Dora provided biscuits and a bottle of port wine, but even so it was short commons and Emmeline felt guilty at her impoverished table.

‘I'd kill for a turkey,' she said to Octavia. ‘Chickens are all very well but they don't go anywhere near far enough.'

But it was a happy meal notwithstanding the shortages. Octavia had made crackers out of brown paper covered with painted stars and party hats out of brightly painted newspaper and every last scrap of food was eaten and pronounced first rate. In fact, when David had finished his slice of Christmas pudding he licked the plate, to his mother's consternation.

‘David! David! Whatever are you thinking of?' she rebuked him. ‘We don't lick our plates. It's bad manners.'

But to everybody's surprise, John encouraged him. ‘You lick away all you like, son,' he said. ‘Never let nothing go to waste. That's my advice. Food's too precious to waste.'

‘That's all very well,' Dora said, ‘but what about manners?'

‘Manners don't come into it no more,' John told her. Was this really their quiet John standing up to Dora? ‘There's many a good man been torpedoed to get that lot on your plate. If you'd seen some a' the things I've seen these last few years you'd never waste another mouthful in your life and you'd be licking your plate an' all.'

So David went on licking his plate until he'd polished it clean and, greatly daring, the three girls followed his example and licked theirs too. And Uncle John patted them on the
head and said, ‘That's the style!' Then the port wine was produced to finish off the meal and toasts were drunk to their new allies and absent friends, and when they'd sat by the fire for an hour or two, ‘to let their food go down', Octavia got out the gramophone records and they danced and giggled for the rest of the afternoon.

It wasn't until it was midnight and she was finally in bed that Octavia had time to think of Tommy and Lizzie and to wonder what sort of Christmas they'd had, and by then she was so tired she fell asleep in the middle of her thoughts.