Where Bluebells Chime

‘I know. I do it always when I come here to Denniston. And it doesn’t trouble my conscience either, because now I am the parson’s wife and middle-aged, and the girl who was once a nurse here is long gone.’

‘Of course! You and Mrs Dwerryhouse did your training at Denniston in the last war.’

‘And now Drew is in the thick of another one, and Daisy soon to join him.’

‘Drew is a fine young man, Julia. How is he?’

‘The last time we heard he was in port – tied up alongside, he called it – having something done to his ship. He didn’t say what, though. All I know is that the Penrose is part of a flotilla that keeps the Western Approaches free from mines. But we’ll find out more when he gets leave. You know,’ Julia reached out to touch the wooden table at her side, ‘I have a good feeling about Drew. I know, somehow, that he’ll make it home safely one day. But I’ve come with an invitation. I’ll tell you both about it when Anna has finished phoning.’

‘I already know about the secret party,’ Edward chuckled. ‘Tatiana brings me all the gossip and news. But Anna is always on the phone, lately, trying to get through to London. There is such a delay on calls – if you can get through at all, that is. Poor Miss Hallam on the exchange must be having a very trying time. And the delays have got worse. They say it’s because of the bombing.’

Unable to break Fighter Command, Hitler had turned his hatred on London, swearing it would be bombed until it lay a smoking ruin. Night after night the Luftwaffe came. Poor, poor London.

‘It must be. I booked a call to Montpelier Mews yesterday evening and I got it half an hour ago. It seems that Sparrow is coping with it all. When the sirens go she says she puts her box of important things in the gas oven, then takes her pillow and blankets and sleeps under the kitchen table.’

Mrs Emily Smith: Andrew’s cockney sparrow. Once, in another life when Andrew lived in lodgings in Little Britain, Sparrow was his lady who did. Now she took care of the little mews house that once belonged to Aunt Anne Lavinia.

‘Sparrow! I sometimes forget that Anne Lavinia left you her house, Julia. Is it all right? No bomb damage?’

‘Not so far. I’ve told Sparrow she must lock it up and come to Rowangarth, but she won’t hear of it. Hitler isn’t going to drive her out of London, she says, and insists she’s safer than most. It’s the people in the East End who are taking the brunt of it, though the papers say that Buckingham Palace has been bombed. Everything’s all right at Cheyne Walk, I suppose?’

‘I suppose it is. Do you know, Julia, I’d forget all about that house if it wasn’t for the fact that Anna’s mother and brother live next door. It’s been nothing but a nuisance. I could never understand why Clemmy insisted on buying it. I suppose some good did come out of it, though. Elliot and Anna met there.’

‘Yes.’ Julia had no wish to talk about Elliot nor even think about him and was glad when Anna came into the room. ‘Did you manage to get through?’

‘No, I didn’t.’ Anna and Julia touched cheeks in greeting. ‘It seems Mama’s number is unobtainable. What can it mean? Has Cheyne Walk been bombed, do you think? What am I to do?’ Anna was clearly distressed. ‘I asked Mama time and time again. “Come to me,” I said. I warned her that London would be bombed but no – the Bolsheviks drove her from her home in Russia and Hitler wasn’t going to drive her from this one, she said, poor though it was.’

‘Poor? But the Cheyne Walk house is rather a nice one,’ Julia protested.

‘I know, I know!’ Anna paced the floor in her agitation. ‘But you know my mother, Julia. Always the Countess, always in black, mourning for her old way of life. She can be very stubborn. Do you think I should go down there?’

‘No, I do not! All around the docks and a lot of central London seems to be in a mess. I doubt you’d be able to get on a bus, let alone find a taxi. It would be madness to go there at a time like this. Your mother has Igor to look after her and –’

‘Not any longer! Igor is an air-raid warden now. Since the bombing started, he’s hardly ever at home!’

‘Anna, my dear.’ Edward Sutton rose slowly to his feet to lay a comforting arm around his daughter-in-law’s shoulders. ‘No news is good news, don’t they say? The Countess will be in touch with you before so very much longer. Perhaps it’s only a temporary thing. Leave it until morning and it’s my guess you’ll get through with no delay at all. Try not to worry. And Julia is here with an invitation for us.’

‘Aunt Helen’s party, you mean? We’ve already heard about it from Tatiana. Daisy told her.’

‘Well, I’m here with the official invitation for the fifth. And don’t forget, Anna, that it’s our party – Nathan’s and mine. And tell Tatty there’ll be dancing, so she’ll be sure to come.’

‘I’ll tell her.’ Tatiana was so secretive these days. Always slipping out or hovering round the telephone. Anna frowned. A young man, of course, but why didn’t she bring him home? ‘She’s in Harrogate this afternoon, collecting for the Red Cross. She said she would come home on the same bus as Daisy.’

‘So it’s settled. We’ll all come. And here’s tea,’ Edward smiled as Karl, straight-backed and unsmiling, laid a silver tray on the table beside Anna.

‘Where is the little one?’ he demanded in his native tongue.

‘Out, helping the Red Cross. She’ll be all right …’ Anna smiled apologetically as the door closed behind the tall, black-bearded Cossack. ‘I’m sorry. He refuses to speak English. I’ve told him it isn’t polite when we have guests, but he’s so stubborn. And he does understand the language. I’ve heard him talking to Tatiana in English. I think it amuses him that people get the impression he doesn’t know what they’re saying.’

‘He’s a good servant, though,’ Edward defended. ‘So loyal, still, to the Czar and surely it’s a comfort to you, Anna, that he’s so protective of Tatiana. How old is he?’

‘I don’t know. He won’t ever say.’ Anna placed a cup and saucer at her father-in-law’s side. ‘But it’s my guess he’s about fifty-five. He’d been a Cossack for some time when he met up with us. We couldn’t have got out of Russia without his help. He’s been with us ever since.’

‘He and Natasha, both. Didn’t you pick up Natasha along the way, too?’ Julia wanted to know.

‘Sort of. She was the daughter of the woman who did our sewing,’ Anna replied in clipped tones. ‘When the unrest first started, she was delivering dresses to us at the farm at Peterhof – we’d gone there for safety. Mother insisted that Igor take her back to St Petersburg, but when they got there the rabble had taken over their house and her parents gone. What else could Igor do but bring her back to us?’

‘Whatever became of her?’ Julia persisted. ‘She went back to London with you, didn’t she, after – after –’

‘After my son was born dead, you mean? Yes, but she didn’t stay long at Cheyne Walk. She left Mama and went to France; Paris, I think it was. I can’t remember. It was a long time ago. But do have a biscuit, Julia …’

‘Positively not!’ Biscuits were rationed and she and her mother would not eat other people’s food. ‘And those are homemade, too,’ she sighed.

‘Cook has a little sugar stored away.’ Anna blushed guiltily because no one should have sugar stored away. ‘But I think it will soon be used up,’ she hastened.

‘Mm. So has our cook. I think people who remember the last war quietly bought in a few things – just in case. I know Tilda has a secret stock of glacé cherries.’ Julia had been quick to notice the tightening of Anna’s mouth, the dropping of her eyes. Did she still mourn her stillborn baby or was it thoughts of the man who fathered it that brought the tension to her face because no one, not even the compliant Anna, could have been happy with Elliot Sutton.

‘I think Tatiana is meeting Daisy in her lunch hour.’ Deliberately Julia talked of other things. ‘They’ll spend most of it searching for cigarettes, I shouldn’t wonder, though Tatiana told me the other day she was down to her last smear of lipstick, so perhaps they’ll be looking for a lipstick queue.’

‘I’ll give her one of mine,’ Anna smiled, all tension gone. ‘Now won’t you have just one biscuit?’

‘Absolutely not, thanks. And did you see it in the papers this morning? When the new petrol coupons start in October, petrol is going up to two shillings a gallon!’

‘Two shillings and a ha’penny, to be exact,’ Edward smiled, ‘and cheap at twice the price when you think of the lives it costs just getting it here.’

‘Cheap,’ Julia echoed, all at once thankful that exploding mines in the Western Approaches seemed safer by far than bringing crude oil to England. Seamen crewing a tanker deserved all the danger money they were paid when just one hit was enough to send the ship sky-high. There were no second chances on a tanker. Either men died mercifully quickly or perished horribly in a sea of blazing oil. ‘And only the other day I was thinking about people who get petrol on the black market and wondering if I could come by the odd gallon. Very wrong of me, wasn’t it?’

‘Yes, but very human,’ Edward said softly. ‘You won’t be tempted, will you, Julia?’

‘Oh, I’ll be tempted all right, Uncle, but I won’t do it – promise. And I’ll have to be going. Nathan is visiting the outlying parishes this afternoon and Mother is inclined to brood, if she’s alone for too long – about Drew, you know.’ She rose to her feet. ‘Now mark it in your diaries: October the fifth. It’s a Saturday. No big eats, I’m afraid, but it’ll be a lot of fun. Sorry I can’t stay longer.’

‘That’s all right. Give Aunt Helen my love,’ Anna smiled as she closed the conservatory door behind them. ‘And I think I’ll ask the exchange to try Cheyne Walk just once more. She’ll think I’m fussing, but I’m so worried, Julia. You honestly don’t think anything awful has happened, do you?’

‘No, I don’t. Somewhere along the line, a telephone exchange has been bombed. Even a telegraph pole getting knocked down could cause a lot of upset with the phones. You’d have heard something, by now if – well, if there was anything to tell.’ She reached for Anna, hugging her close. ‘Try not to worry too much if you don’t get through, but either way, give me a quick ring, will you? ‘Bye, Anna.’

‘Grandfather will be so pleased with the tobacco,’ Tatiana said. ‘I know he’s short. Last night he kept looking in his tobacco jar, then putting the lid back.’

‘Dada’s always short, poor pet. D’you know, Tatty, I nearly hit the roof when we got so near to the counter and then the man said, “Sorry. That’s all, I’m afraid.” And then he said, “Cigarettes all gone, for today. Only pipe tobacco left. Half an ounce to each customer.” Imagine standing there for nearly half an hour for four slices of tobacco. I shall give two to Dada and two to Uncle Reuben. It’s all Hitler’s fault. I hate him.’

‘Doesn’t everybody?’ The bus stopped at the crossroads and they got out, calling a good night to the remaining passengers. ‘Shall I walk part of the way with you – stand at the fence till you’re through the wood, Daisy?’

‘No thanks. I’ll be fine. It isn’t dark yet. And I know Brattocks like the back of my hand – even in the blackout. I don’t suppose you’ll be going to the aerodrome dance tomorrow?’

‘Not a lot of use. Tim’s almost certainly on ops. tonight and as soon as he gets back he’ll be off on leave to Greenock. I’ll miss him, but at least I’ll know that for seven days he’ll be safe. I’m getting up early tomorrow. He’s promised to ring the coin box in the village. Better than him ringing Denniston.’

‘You’ll have to set your alarm, and get out of the house without anyone hearing you. Wouldn’t it have been better to get up early and wait by your own phone and pick it up the second it starts ringing? It’s awful for you having to be so sneaky about Tim’s calls.’

‘I know, but I can’t risk them finding out at home. Mother might say I wasn’t to see Tim again and they’d watch everything I did, after that. Karl especially.’