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Authors: Maggie Bennett

BOOK: The Carpenter's Children
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‘Nurse Munday,’ he said, remembering those evening entertainments at Hassett Manor. ‘I didn’t expect to find
you
here.’

Grace could foresee a tricky evening, to say the least. ‘G-good evening, Captain Neville,’ she said with a half-smile to cover her dismay. ‘Yes, this is an unexpected pleasure, isn’t it?’

Blushing, she took his arm; Captain Garth was helping Trixie into the back seat of the cab. ‘We’ve got a table booked at Rotters in the Strand,’ he said. ‘Hurry up!’

Grace got in, her thoughts whirling. Was this an unfortunate accident, or had Neville come here deliberately to spy on her? No, that was impossible; nobody in North Camp, her parents included, knew where she was in London. Trixie and Garth chatted happily, while Grace and Cedric sat in a strained silence, neither of them knowing what to say.

Rotters was below ground level, which meant that there need be no dimming of the lights, even if enemy planes were overhead. The two officers carefully escorted the girls down the steps, to be met by a smartly dressed commissionaire; he nodded in recognition to Captain Garth, and showed them to the cloakrooms. When they emerged they were led
to a table in the crowded dining area, and a waiter hovered ready to take their orders.

‘This is a bit of all right, isn’t it, Gracie?’ murmured Trixie. ‘You can order mine, Captain Garth, and I’ll have the same as what you’re havin’!’

‘Ah, but I’ll be having the same as
he’s
having,’ teased Garth. ‘What about your friend – Grace, isn’t it? Would you like a mutton chop?’

Mutton chops with French fried potatoes were ordered for them all, and while the men drank keg beer, Trixie asked for port and lemon, and Grace chose soda water, knowing she would need a clear head if this evening was to be saved from disaster. Trixie and Garth were already indulging in cheerful repartee, and Grace braced herself to converse naturally with Cedric Neville who looked puzzled and unsmiling.

‘I had no idea that I’d find you here, Miss Munday. Rotters was John Garth’s choice, as was the visit to Dolly’s, and I suspect he may have wished to meet your friend. The show was very good, and you were splendid on the stage. Have you been at Dolly’s for long?’

‘Quite a while now, Captain Neville,’ she answered lightly, forcing a smile. ‘It’s what I’ve always wanted to do.’

‘Yes, I well remember how you used to entertain us at Hassett Manor, but I never expected to see you performing on a London stage. My mother will be interested – she always thought you were talented.
What do Mr and Mrs Munday think about it?’

This was the question she had dreaded.

‘Oh, I really don’t know, Captain Neville, it seems such a long time since I was at North Camp,’ she said with a little shrug.

‘I gathered as much when I saw them at Christmas,’ he answered seriously. ‘Anyway, Mrs Storey must be glad to have you near at hand, especially with her husband away, and the, er, the happy event due to take place.’

Grace had been blushing as she spoke, but on hearing this, she felt the colour drain from her face. ‘You mean…is Isabel expecting a b-baby?’ she whispered.

‘Yes. Don’t say that you have no knowledge of it! Surely you go to see her when you have some time off?’ When Grace stared down at the table, he added quite sternly, ‘When was the last time you visited Bethnal Green?’

She could not answer, and Trixie, sensing the fraught silence, turned to her in mock reproof. ‘What’s up, Gracie, you look like a week o’ wet Sundays! Has the captain been makin’ improper suggestions?’ She giggled, and said to both men, ‘You mustn’t think she’s always as glum as this! On the contrary, she’s a proper little firecracker, our Gracie. You should hear how the fellows go on about how she entertains the troops!’

The dead silence that followed this made even Trixie aware that something was amiss. Grace
continued to sit still and speechless, and ignoring Trixie, Captain Neville spoke quietly to Grace.

‘Please accept my apology, Miss Munday, if I’ve spoken out of turn. I seem to have touched on matters that are no concern of mine. I’m sorry if I’ve offended you.’

Grace still sat motionless, her eyes downcast. She did not see Cedric’s quick glance in Garth’s direction, finger on mouth to indicate that he should draw Trixie’s attention away from Grace. Garth replied with an understanding wink.

‘My mother much admires your father as a
first-rate
carpenter,’ Cedric continued. ‘She’s always taken an interest in your family, as you know, and she was sorry when you had to leave Hassett Manor. She thinks you have great talent.’

Grace gave a choking sob, and covered her face with her hands.

‘Are you not well, Miss Munday?’ he asked in consternation. ‘Would you like me to take you ho… to where you live?’

When she nodded silently, he rose from the table, excusing himself and Grace, saying that she was unwell and he was taking her away.

‘I say, that’s too bad!’ exclaimed Garth, but Trixie hid a little smile, for she wasn’t sorry to be rid of two such wet blankets; she now had the field to herself, and had her own plans for Captain Garth before the night was over.

When Neville and Grace had collected their cloaks, he hailed a taxicab and helped her into it. She whispered that she lived at 17 Lamp Street, and as the taxi started, she burst into uncontrollable sobs.

‘My parents don’t know, nor does my sister,’ she confessed, her shoulders heaving.

‘I’d rather gathered that, Miss Munday – Grace,’ he replied. ‘It’s not my place to pass judgement, but I recommend that you visit your parents as soon as possible to put their minds at rest. Since the death of the second Bird brother, and with Ernest and Isabel’s husband facing constant danger, your father and mother have enough worries, without you adding to them.’

‘I’ll write to them, and I’ll go to see Isabel, I really will!’ she sobbed. ‘I’ll go tomorrow – I didn’t know she was having a…oh, how selfish I’ve been!’

Cedric spoke more gently. ‘Would you like me to call on Mrs Storey to prepare her, Grace? Our ship doesn’t leave till Friday afternoon, and if it would ease the way for you, I’d be glad to call on her in the morning with my mother’s good wishes, and say that I’ve met you and that you want to see her. Shall I do that?’

‘Oh, yes, please, I’d be glad if you would, Mr…I mean Captain Neville,’ said Grace thankfully, making an effort to calm herself, and when they reached Lamp Street she shook his hand in gratitude
and wished him luck on his return to the war.

At least he doesn’t know about – the
other
, she reminded herself, and shivered at the thought.

‘Somebody at the door, Mrs Storey – d’ye want me to answer it? If it’s that man come round beggin’ again…’

‘No, it’s all right, Sally, I’ll go. It might be Mrs Plumm.’

Rising from her desk where she was sorting through church accounts for the diocesan bishop, Isabel put on a welcoming smile as she opened the door. An army officer stood on the step, and her hand flew to her throat in dread.

‘No,’ she whispered, turning deathly pale. ‘Oh, no, no, no…’

She swayed where she stood, and he stepped over the threshold in time to catch her as she fainted. Holding her in his arms, he called for help, hoping there was somebody else in the house, and Sally Tanner dashed out from the kitchen to behold Mrs Storey chalk-white and lifeless in a stranger’s arms.

‘Omigawd! What’s up? Quick, bring ’er in ’ere and put ’er on the sofa! Oh, Isabel, me poor sweet, wake up!’ She turned to the officer. ‘What’ve yer been tellin’ ’er? Is it ’er ’usband or ’er bruvver?’

‘No, I’ve come with
good
news,’ he told her while she chafed Isabel’s hands and implored her to wake up. ‘It’s about her sister, and—’

‘Look, she’s comin’ round,’ interrupted Sally as Isabel’s eyelids fluttered, and she opened them to see the officer.

‘What’s happened?’ she moaned weakly. ‘Is it about Mark?’

‘No, no, Mrs Storey, I’ve come with a message from your sister, and I’m terribly sorry for upsetting you,’ Neville apologised.

‘I should damn well think so, frightenin’ ’er like that!’ muttered Sally, smoothing the hair back from Isabel’s forehead. ‘All right, me duck, nothin’ to worry about, just somethin’ to do with that blinkin’ sister o’ yours.’

‘Grace?’ said Isabel, sitting up and looking intently at their visitor. ‘I-I seem to know you, don’t I?’

‘Yes, Mrs Storey, my name’s Neville, and I live at Hassett Manor. I’m the younger son of—’

‘Yes, yes, of course, Mr Neville. Have you seen Mark, or had any word from him? Or my brother Ernest Munday?’ she asked eagerly.

‘No, but silence is usually good news, Mrs Storey. My news is of your sister Grace, who wants to come and see you.’

‘You mean she’s been
found
? Oh, praise God for that, Mr Neville!’ cried Isabel, not knowing his army rank. ‘And coming to see me? Oh…’ A cloud passed over her face. ‘Is she…is she in any trouble?’

‘I don’t think so, Mrs Storey,’ he answered,
smiling and thinking to himself that whatever Grace had done, it couldn’t be worse than what this poor young wife had feared. ‘I offered to come and prepare you, seeing that…’ He glanced briefly down at her loose-fitting smock. ‘The fact is, a friend and I went to a music hall just off Leicester Square, and he took a fancy to one of the girls in the chorus. When he asked if he might take this girl out to supper, the manager said the girls were only allowed out in pairs – hence our second visit when he got his choice, and I found myself partnered with your sister, poor girl, she was clearly horrified at seeing me, for fear that I should tell her family.’

‘How good of you, Mr Neville,’ said Isabel Storey. ‘It must have been
meant
that you should meet her – to give me a chance to hear her story first, before our poor parents find out. Yes, you can be sure that I’ll send her back to North Camp, and forewarn them, as you have forewarned me.’ Isabel’s colour was returning, and she gave a wry little smile. ‘Performing on the stage of a music hall – poor Grace, I can see why she kept it quiet. Meanwhile I can’t thank you enough, Mr Neville. Will you be returning to Hassett Manor?’

‘No, Mrs Storey, the troopship sails on Friday – and if I should meet your husband or brother out there, I’ll remember you to them, and send your love.’

‘God bless you, Mr Neville, may He watch over
you, and keep you safe for your loved ones,’ said Isabel, her voice breaking as she stood up and shook his hand.

Grace arrived at the vicarage that same afternoon, and wept afresh at the sight of her sister, heavily pregnant and looking tired. Isabel held out her arms to the prodigal daughter, and for the next hour there was no talk of blame, only joy and relief.

‘Mr Neville told me about you performing on a music hall stage, Grace, and I don’t think that sounds
very
terrible – but you were wrong in disappearing from us all, sending an occasional postcard with no information about where you were.’

‘I knew that Mum and Dad would worry if they knew I was on the stage,’ said Grace, shaking her head and turning down the corners of her mouth.

‘Not as much as they worried through
not
knowing where you were,’ her sister reproached her. ‘Think of their embarrassment when neighbours asked about you – and the sort of suspicions that some of them might have had, the whispering in North Camp that Mum and Dad have had to endure. Didn’t you ever think about this, Grace? Didn’t you realise how cruel you were, cutting yourself off from us all?’

Grace hung her head, unable to meet her sister’s eyes.

‘Anyway, Grace, you’ve been restored to us, thanks to Cedric Neville, and we won’t waste time
looking back. Mum and Dad will be overjoyed to see you, and you’ll find there’s plenty of work to be done by women, with so many men away. I’ll pray that you’ll be led to the work the Lord wants you to do.’

Her sister’s kindness was like a sword thrust to Grace, making her all the more conscious of the deception she must practise on her family for the rest of her life, for she could never confess the awful truth about what she called
the other
. It was a burden that she must always bear, because it could never be shared.

Tom Munday was waiting for her at Everham Station, and held out his arms.

‘Thank God ye’ve come to your senses, girl, and don’t ever do this to us again,’ he said, hugging her. ‘Whatever you do, wherever you go, keep in touch with us.’

Grace knew that he meant what he said, but doubted that he would be this tolerant if he knew that she had actually worked as a
prostitute
on three occasions.

Her mother’s welcome was less warm. ‘Well, my girl, you’ve certainly shown us up for a pair of fools, I must say! Your father ran out of excuses about you “doing your bit for the war effort” in London, which everybody knows is full of soldiers on leave. Of course there’s been gossip about you, and we’ve
had to bear the brunt of it, because we didn’t know ourselves what you were up to!’

‘I’m so sorry, Mum, I’ve been selfish and thoughtless, and I…please forgive me,’ Grace pleaded, horrified that her mother’s suspicions had been so near the mark.

‘That’s all very fine, but if young Neville hadn’t found you in that…that
music hall
, we’d have gone on not knowing,’ said Violet Munday bitterly. ‘What with my son at the front, a daughter in London having a baby, looked after by a known drunkard, and in fear o’ bombs night and day, it’s no wonder neither of us are well!’

And to Grace’s dismay, her mother burst into angry tears, and turned away from her daughter’s attempt to hug her. Tom tried to make peace between them, and admitted privately to Grace that her mother was troubled by chronic indigestion, for which Dr Stringer had prescribed milk of magnesia and a diet of milk puddings and steamed fish; but she had no appetite.

‘It’s due to the constant worry, y’see, it’s given her an ulcer, like old Mr Goddard had, only he’s much better since Sidney married Mary Cooper and now they’ve got the baby,’ he said.

Grace was having serious doubts about staying at her parents’ home. She’d be better employed at Bethnal Green, she told her father.

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