Summer's End (21 page)

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Authors: Amy Myers

BOOK: Summer's End
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‘You won't get that. Pa would kill me. It's about your aunt. She's going to burn a church down.'

‘
What?
'

‘Not yours,' Patricia reassured her. ‘Missenden in Kent, it's near Goudhurst. The vicar is a pal of McKenna's and he gave a sermon about the place of women in the home and how we're all inferior beings. On Sunday he's going to preach God's word on what to do with lunatic females.'

‘But my
aunt
burn a
church
?'

‘They've burned others,' Patricia replied. ‘It's property, isn't it? Anyway, the point is that Father's found out somehow. I heard him talking to the Chief Constable. They'll all be arrested, and your aunt will go straight back to Holloway. You did
know
she'd been in stir, didn't you?' Patricia produced her slang with relish.

‘Yes,' Caroline said shortly. ‘Now tell me why you've come.'

Patricia was taken aback. ‘I thought you'd want to prevent her going.'

‘Yes, but why
you
? Are you a suffragette too?'

‘Hell's bells, no,' Patricia informed her elegantly, ‘much as I approve of your aunt. I hate The Towers, you see, and every so often I have to kick it. I'll probably have to stay there. The kind of men who appreciate my charms would be seen off as a son-in-law by Pops with a boot in their rear, the kind of men who think my money would compensate for having me thrown in too
I
would see off with a boot in their rear, and as for true love, well, no Prince Charming's going to come running after me with a glass slipper, is he?'

Caroline was appalled at Patricia's matter-of-fact diagnosis of her future, and said so.

Patricia shrugged. ‘They only care about Robert. Once they saw they'd bred an ugly duckling, they left me to waddle about on my own. If you get any information on how to turn into a swan, you might let me know. I've tried mercolised wax on my face – Ma said I'd been let loose from Madame Tussaud's. If I became a suffragette I'd
terrify
Asquith into giving us the vote.'

‘Are you sure you aren't tempted to join them?'

‘Quite sure, thanks, Caroline. If it came to a choice between
soapbox and suds at the kitchen sink, I'd choose the suds.' She paused. ‘I hope it doesn't, though. There must be
something
else I could do.'

‘Yes,' said Caroline firmly, taken aback by Patricia's mournfulness. ‘But you must look for it. It won't come waltzing up The Towers' drive looking for you.'

Patricia giggled. ‘It's more likely to be ragtime if Ma and Pa throw me out, as I gathered happened to your aunt. You'd better hurry, by the way. Father's already galloped off in the Daimler wielding his tomahawk.'

 

Full of anxiety about Aunt Tilly, Caroline hastily thanked her, and raced back to the house. There was no sign of her aunt though the Austin was in the garage, which relieved her greatly. Surely Tilly would have driven, not gone by train, if she were going to Goudhurst?

Nevertheless, she sought out her mother. ‘Where's Aunt Tilly?' she asked her mother as casually as she could.

‘She went up to London earlier to the theatre, and she's staying overnight with a friend. Why?'

‘Nothing.' Caroline's heart sank. Theatre? Friend? Patricia's story could possibly be true. Her aunt had shown no signs of knowing the Tunbridge Wells group well – in deference to the promise Father had extracted from her, Caroline supposed. Or it might be genuine; her aunt belonged to the London groups. Should she tell Father about it? No, came the answer. He couldn't reach the church any more than she could, and the very idea of his sister burning a church would appal him. There was only one thing to be done …

 

‘If this is some wild goose chase …' Reggie said threateningly as he cranked the Lanchester's starting handle.

‘You'll what?' Caroline could have cried with thankfulness at Reggie's reasonably unreluctant agreement, especially since he could not bring his beloved Perry, as it was only a two-seater. He had been forced to bribe the Ashden chauffeur into turning the other way while he checked the battery was charged and sneaked his parents' motor-car out.

‘Point out your reputation is hardly going to be improved.'

‘I never thought of that.' Caroline was amused. ‘I told Mother I
was going to see you anyway, so she won't worry.'

‘Suppose the Lanchester breaks down and I can't return you till morning? It has been known.'

‘Oh, Reggie, what a
good
idea. You'll
have
to marry me then, and even your mother couldn't refuse.
Do
let's break down.'

‘We'll have your Aunt Tilly with us. That will put a stop to your dastardly plans, woman. You'll be in the back seat, so
my
virtue is going to be quite safe – unfortunately.'

‘That's better. You're smiling.'

‘Getting your crazy aunt out of scrapes is more fun than listening to Daniel drone on about the mysteries of the East.'

It was strange to be driving so far alone with Reggie in the hot warm evening, just the two of them side by side, sailing through villages she'd heard of but never seen, passing inns and public houses full of light and noise, and the warm smells of the countryside in between as dark began to fall. She watched his long slim hands on the wheel, thought of them caressing her yesterday, his hands against the light chiffon on her dress, and wondered how anybody could be unhappy in this world with such wonders of love within it. Soon when they were married there'd be no chiffon between them, no underclothing, perhaps not even a night-dress, nothing between those hands and her skin. Perhaps too nothing between her own hands and Reggie's body. Her chest suddenly tight, she tried to imagine it and felt herself blushing.

‘I told you you should have worn goggles.' Reggie glanced at her. Belatedly she realised the dust on the road was sweeping into the open motor-car and stinging her face.

‘We're here now.'

Caroline shivered as the Lanchester drew up some thirty yards from the church. It was out of sight, but their noisy arrival could hardly have gone unnoticed in this peaceful still night. The church was a little way from the village centre surrounded by yew trees. Somehow she sensed the presence of other people, though there was no one to be seen. At least there was no sign of the police – or William Swinford-Browne.
Would
he come? Was he here, lurking in this twilight, waiting his moment? She took a deep breath, as she jumped from the motor-car and ran to the church porch, Reggie close behind her. There were others to be saved besides Aunt Tilly, she had to remember – though that depended on how one looked at
it. Perhaps all of the suffragettes would be only too glad to have the police come, to be arrested, or in Tilly's case, be re-arrested under the Cat and Mouse Act. Their object of publicity would be achieved either way. It suddenly occurred to her that it might not be easy to persuade Aunt Tilly to come home.

Reaching the porch door, Reggie shouted: ‘Miss Lilley, come out.'

‘It's me, Aunt Tilly.' Caroline supported him, checking the bushes lining the approach to the church.

‘How on earth did you get here, and
why?
' Tilly emerged not from the bushes, but from the church itself, flushed and very angry. She seemed a stranger. Surely this wasn't the same woman who read
Alice in Wonderland
to her as a child?

‘What's more important,' Reggie interrupted, ‘is how
you're
getting back.'

Caroline rushed to the church door. ‘All of you, wherever you are. The police are on their way.'

There were three of them. Cloaked figures emerged, unalarmed, undaunted, waiting impatiently for this situation to be resolved. Aunt Tilly was obviously the group's leader.

‘We must hurry then,' Tilly said grimly. ‘We should have something to show them. This for instance.' She gestured to what one of the group was holding – a tin canister with strings and straps attached to it, and something trailing from the top. ‘Over five pounds of gunpowder,' she added triumphantly as Reggie made an unsuccessful grab at the tin.

‘
You
can't stay. You'll be arrested. And you can't, you
can't
let that thing off.' Caroline was appalled.

‘Why do you think I've come? To give up
now
?' Tilly snapped.

‘But this is a
church
.'

‘And you told the police?'

‘No!' Caroline felt outrage.

Tilly said impatiently, perhaps an apology in her own way, ‘For all I know your feelings on churches outweigh those towards an aunt.'

‘Or yours to a brother.'

‘If so forced. And I am.'

Surely this could not be her beloved Aunt Tilly, saying these terrible things? Caroline tried again, while Reggie argued with the rest of the group.

‘You
must
come with us, Aunt Tilly. It's Swinford-Browne who has
arranged for you to be re-arrested. He might even come himself. Do you want to be humiliated before him?'

Tilly paused for a moment, taken aback. ‘The cause is more important. What is one more prison sentence? Mrs Pankhurst has been imprisoned countless times, myself only thrice.'

‘Because it would mean Swinford-Browne winning.' Caroline was getting desperate. ‘It would be defeat for you, not victory. He'd have got what
he
wanted. You can't want that to happen.' For a moment she thought she'd convinced her aunt, but she was wrong. Tilly ran back into the church to join her fellows.

‘Have you any thought for Caroline and what she's risking by coming here?' Reggie shouted angrily after her.

‘It is of less importance than the cause,' Tilly shouted. ‘I'm going to light a fire that
all
will see.'

‘You blasted well won't,' Reggie yelled at her, then turning to Caroline: ‘Crank up the Lanc.'

She stood bemused for a second, then ran for the motor-car, aware of a scuffle behind her. She turned briefly to see Reggie gripping a struggling Aunt Tilly firmly by the arm and slamming the church door behind him in the face of would-be rescuers. He then picked up Aunt Tilly bodily – no mean feat for she was a tall, strong-boned woman – and stumbled after Caroline towards the Lanchester. Like an automaton Caroline seized the starting handle, cranking furiously. She'd never done it before, and could only pray that the gods that ruled motor-cars would smile on her. Reggie tumbled Aunt Tilly into the passenger seat – fortunately without the bomb – but once he had taken his hand away from her mouth, the noise and struggles began. Mercifully the engine responded, and somehow Caroline managed to scramble into the back seat as the Lanchester began to roar down the lane. It was some few minutes before they passed a police van and a Daimler on the Goudhurst road speeding in the opposite direction, and Caroline shrank down out of sight. Turning back, she could see a thin spire of smoke above the trees, and a little later a fire engine chugged purposefully past them.

‘You can remove your arm, Caroline. I am not foolish enough to leap from a moving motor-car,' Tilly remarked drily. Caroline obeyed; she had not been aware that her hand was gripping her aunt's arm so tightly still.

‘I take it you approve of your future husband's masterful habits?'

‘I will not have Caroline –' Reggie began.

‘Caroline does have a voice of her own, does she not?' Tilly interrupted. ‘Or are you proposing to control her mind as well as body when you marry her?'

Before Reggie could reply, Caroline said clearly, ‘I believe Reggie was right to have brought you away.'

‘I am sad that you think it right to frustrate the cause of woman's advancement, Caroline. I had expected more of you.'

‘And I of you, Aunt Tilly. You are blind to every moral standard save that in which you choose to believe. How could you burn God's house?'

‘It ceases to be the house of God, and turns into mere bricks and mortar when it is misused.'

‘In your mind, perhaps,' Reggie said. ‘How about the people who have worshipped there for years, who were baptised in its font, were married before its altar, and whose loved ones lie buried there? Is it mere bricks and mortar to them?'

‘When men and women are seen as equal, we can build anew.'

‘And what about your family in the meanwhile?' Reggie enquired.

‘Unfortunately sometimes the individual must be sacrificed for the greater good.'

‘What about Father, and your mother?' cried Caroline. ‘Do they mean
nothing
?'

‘My mother?' Tilly turned angrily round. ‘My mother has always cared only for her own wishes. She seeks to impose her views on everyone; she can hardly complain if now her daughter follows her example – especially as she has made it clear I no longer
am
her daughter in any but the legal sense and that, too, she is trying to circumvent. Very well, then she is no longer my mother. Her actions, as yours,' Tilly looked scornfully at Reggie, ‘render her unworthy of respect from anyone.'

‘I disagree,' Reggie said calmly. ‘You expect
your
views to be respected, if not shared. Your mother is entitled to the same treatment.'

‘You are wrong. I do not expect my views to be respected. Those who intend to change society cannot bother with such niceties. Caroline, I blame myself for failing to make you understand. I know you felt you had to act as you did tonight, but I am sorry for it.'

Caroline was not.

 

William Swinford-Browne had the last laugh. Caroline woke late the next day, for it had been midnight when she arrived home, and she and Reggie, to his tight-lipped fury, had to face Father and Mother, who remained unconvinced by stories of punctures. Tilly had unwillingly agreed at Caroline's pleading to slip in through the drawing-room window. Now Caroline realised to her dismay she had probably missed breakfast, and calculated the chances of appealing to Mrs Dibble's heart. The hot water in her jug had long since grown cold. It was not a good start to the day and she knew it was going to get worse as soon as she emerged from her room to go downstairs.

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