Darkest Before Dawn (23 page)

‘He's awful nice, isn't he?' Evie said, as the two sisters began to retrace their steps. ‘I think Fee's real silly.' She looked up into Angela's calm, fair face. ‘If I were a bit older and he liked me instead of Fee, I'd forgive him like a shot for not writing letters.'

Angela smiled. ‘He really is most awfully nice,' she agreed, in her soft voice. ‘Goodness, we must get a move on, Evie, or we'll be late for your bedtime and that would never do.'

Evie sighed but agreed and the two girls hurried on their way back, both, Evie suspected, thinking of Toby as they walked.

Chapter Seven

September 1939

Seraphina clattered down the iron staircase and hurried up the passage which led out on to the Scotland Road. She was doing a late shift at the restaurant but meant to spend the morning shopping for an evening dress. It was a beautiful sunny day and her young man – if he could be called her young man – had invited her to spend a weekend at his parents' country home.

When Seraphina had told her mother of the invitation, Martha had been doubtful. The country had been in a state of considerable tension for weeks now. Europe was in turmoil; Germany was threatening to invade Poland, having already reduced Czechoslovakia to ruins, and Britain had been put on a war footing. Children were getting ready to be evacuated from the major cities, men and women were joining the forces in ever increasing numbers, and Chamberlain had given an ultimatum to Hitler, saying that he must withdraw his troops from the Polish border or Britain would declare war.

‘I know you've been dreading a war, my love, as indeed we all have,' her mother had said, ‘but you mustn't simply bury your head in the sand, you know. Mr Chamberlain is going to speak to the nation on Sunday morning, and it's my belief that he will tell us Hitler hasn't agreed to his demands, and that will mean we shall shortly be at war. With everything so uncertain, you should be in your own home, not in someone else's.'

But Seraphina had not agreed. She had been going out with Roger Truelove for four months and this was the first time he had invited her to his home, saying that he wanted her to meet his parents. To Seraphina, this sounded as though he was serious, and more than anything, she told herself, she wanted to be Roger's wife. He was the youngest partner in his father's accountancy firm, as well as being quite the best-looking young man Seraphina knew. So she tried to explain to Martha that Roger was important to her, might even be seriously considering her as his future wife. ‘A man like him doesn't take just anyone home to meet his parents,' she had said. ‘As for a war coming, I still think Hitler will draw back, but even if he doesn't, why shouldn't I have my wonderful weekend? After all, Ma, if you're right and conscription comes in, then it may be the last chance I have of getting to know his parents before he's whisked away from all of us.'

So Martha had reluctantly agreed that Seraphina should go and had actually accepted that her daughter would need an evening dress, because Roger had told Seraphina that although the weekend would be informal, he would be taking her dancing on the Saturday evening.

So now, Seraphina hurried across the little back yard and down the passage, her mind playing delightfully with the possibilities of a new dress. Colours flashed before her eyes – blue? Green? A delicate pink? And she fairly shot on to Scotland Road. She rounded the corner and ran full tilt into the postman. He was a cheerful, elderly man, with a square red face and bushy grey hair, and he caught her by the shoulders, dropping some letters on to the ground as he did so. ‘Well, wharra lovely greeting,' he said jovially, releasing her to pick up the letters he had dropped. ‘Where's you off to in such a hurry, miss? Early shift, I suppose? Well, you can save me a trip up them bleedin' stairs by taking your post since you almost bowled me over as you came round the corner.'

‘I'm awfully sorry, ' Seraphina said breathlessly, taking the letters he handed her. ‘I'm off to buy myself a new dress.' She glanced at the letters in her hand. ‘Oh, it's all right, there's only a couple for my mother and one for the whole family; they'll keep till I get home tonight, no doubt.'

The postman sighed and pushed his cap to the back of his head. ‘You'd best give 'em back to me,' he said resignedly. ‘There might be something important in one of them and it would never do if the Post Office thought I'd not pushed them through your letterbox.'

Seraphina was not an unkind girl and she knew that the postman's feet gave him gyp on the iron staircase, so she hung on to the letters, shaking her head and smiling at him. ‘It's all right; I'll take them up myself. It won't take me a minute.'

‘Thanks,' the man said gratefully. ‘You're a good gal, you are. When you're my age, and weigh as much as I do, them iron steps seem to go on for ever.'

Seraphina chuckled and flew up the stairs, shooting into the kitchen where the rest of the family were tidying round. ‘Post,' she said, slapping the letters down on the table. ‘One's from Toby; I recognise his writing. Is it all right if I open it, Ma? He said something in his last letter about coming up to Liverpool . . .'

Evie looked up sharply from her task of packing her school bag. ‘I don't see what difference it will make to you whether he comes or not,' she observed. ‘I don't believe you've written to him once, Seraphina Todd; it's Mam and Angie and meself what take it in turns to write to tell him all our news. Why, you don't even send your best wishes!'

Seraphina laughed. ‘You don't know the half of what I do,' she said teasingly. ‘I might write to him every day, for all you know, and post the letters off privately.'

‘Oh yeah?' Evie said rudely. ‘But you don't, do you?' She sniffed. ‘You think you've got better fish to fry. You think that yeller-haired twerp, with his smart suits and his drawly voice, is better'n Toby, but he ain't.'

‘Evie,' their mother said warningly. ‘I'm sure Mr Truelove is every bit as nice as Toby; he's just different, that's all.' She turned to Seraphina. ‘Yes, Fee, you might as well open the letter, since it's addressed to the whole family, and you can read it aloud, only you'd best hurry or Angie will miss her tram.'

Angie took her jacket off the kitchen door and slipped into it. Then she ran a comb through her soft curls, took down the neat navy blue hat which matched her jacket, and perched it at a becoming angle on her head. Seraphina suddenly realised that her sister was showing much more interest in her appearance than usual, but she was in too much of a hurry to speculate on the cause. She ripped open the envelope and pulled out the two closely written sheets it contained. She ran her eyes over the first few words, expecting the usual stilted comments, then gasped. ‘Oh Ma, you'll never guess what he's been and gone and done. He's joined the army – Toby's joined the army and now he's in Catterick, doing his basic training!'

If Seraphina had tried, she could not have won a more astounded response. Simultaneously, Martha cried: ‘Goodness!', Angie said: ‘Oh, it's what he wanted, but . . .' and Evie said, flatly: ‘They'll send him far away! He'll be miserable, so he will.'

Seraphina looked from face to face. Their astonishment was evident, but it was not as great as her own. Last time he had written, he had talked of joining the army but he had seemed to intimate that he would only do so if war broke out. Now he had changed his mind and, irrationally, she felt fury against him rising up within her. Why did he have to spoil everything? It was just like Toby to do something stupid, to bring the war all the way into their kitchen, because now she was sure they would cancel her teacher training course, and whilst the Trueloves might welcome a teacher as a daughter-in-law she was sure they would not feel the same about a nippy from Lyon's Corner House.

She looked at the faces around her once more; their astonishment was not mixed with annoyance, as hers was. She had been so excited at the thought of her very first country house weekend and now Toby had been and gone and spoiled it. If Roger really did ask her to marry him then a wonderful life lay before her. She could have a beautiful modern flat in the city centre, a home in the country in which to spend weekends, wardrobes full of beautiful clothes, and servants to do her housework and ironing. But if war came, none of that would happen. She would probably be forced to do some horrible, uncongenial work, and there would be bombs and danger, and perhaps the horrors of invasion. Why oh why should Toby go and voluntarily join the army when he had said he would only do so if hostilities broke out? She felt, illogically, that by clearly believing in the war he had deliberately ruined her weekend. She threw the letter down on the table without even attempting to read past the first three lines.

Her mother looked at her uncomprehendingly; Angela stared, round-eyed, but Evie snatched up the letter and glared at Seraphina. ‘I don't think you're a very nice girl, Seraphina Todd,' she said wrathfully. ‘You don't like Toby a bit, not really. The only reason you wanted to read the letter was so you could make sure nothing interfered with your plans.'

Seraphina began to tick her small sister off, then stopped short, realising that Evie had a point. She had made it clear enough in the past that any mention of war was hateful to her and Evie, bright little wretch that she was, had not forgotten. So instead of reprimanding the younger girl, Seraphina smiled, protesting that she still liked Toby, though only as a friend, and tried to take the letter, saying: ‘I'm sorry, Evie. It's just that a war, if it does come, will ruin all my plans. Let me read the letter aloud, as Ma wanted.'

Evie looked rebellious, but a glance from her mother convinced her that she should do as she was told. She handed the letter to her sister and Seraphina began to read.

‘
Dear All, Many thanks for your last letter; see how good I am, replying only eight days after I received it! And for once I do have some news, for I have just joined the army! If you remember, I did say I was going to do so, last spring, but I had meant to wait until war was declared. However, a friend told me there was a shortage of drivers in the army and that we should both apply at once. Would you believe it, we were told to report to Liverpool to join up! As you can see from the address at the top of the page, though, I'm in Catterick Camp now so you won't be seeing me for a while.

I'm writing this sitting on my bed but it's time I joined my mates for a meal in the cookhouse, so I'll say cheerio for now. I don't know when I'll get leave – someone said in six months – but when I do, Liverpool will be my first port of call. Toodle-oo for now. Your friend, Toby.
'

Evie glanced at her sister and Seraphina saw that her lip was trembling. ‘I'm going to reply at once . . . well, as soon as I get back from school,' Evie said defiantly. ‘And I think you might write to him, Seraphina. You are the only one he mentions by name and he does it in every letter. And now he's in the army, he'll get sent to France, I'm sure he will. I remember Pa saying everyone got sent to France last time there was a war.'

‘I would write, only I'm afraid it might give Toby the wrong idea,' Seraphina said hesitantly. ‘You see, Evie, when Toby and I were friends before, we were just a couple of kids. We never thought about marriage, certainly never talked about it, but now . . . now there's Roger – and I think of him . . . well, quite differently from the way I used to think of Toby.'

Evie began to protest, but Martha put a stop to all that. She pointed dramatically to the clock above the mantel. ‘Look at the time,' she said. ‘And in this instance, Fee is quite right; the last thing she should do is raise false hopes. No, Evie, don't start to argue, there's no time. If I'm not down in that shop in five minutes, Mr Wilmslow will be in a bad mood for the rest of the day.' Martha picked up the letter and tucked it into the pocket of her pink checked overall, shooing her daughters towards the door as she did so. ‘Off with you!'

Seraphina had bought her evening dress. She thought it was the most beautiful garment she had ever possessed with its low décolletage and long, sweeping skirt. It was made of leaf green taffeta and had cost her every penny of her savings, but she knew she looked good in it and wanted to impress the Trueloves. However, when she and Roger arrived by taxi at the front door of Dussendale House, she felt her stomach churn with an apprehension she had thought foreign to her nature. It was a very large and imposing building, she thought, built of grey stone, with arched windows, a slate roof and an enormous oak front door. They had approached it up a long drive, lined with what Seraphina recognised as rhododendron bushes, though of course the flowers were long over. She had remarked that the lane, as she had called it, must be glorious in May, when the blossoms were out, and Roger had smiled and said yes indeed, though it was somewhat gloomy at this time of year. After a moment's hesitation, he had added that the lane was in fact the drive, and Seraphina was still puzzling over this remark when the car drew up, with a crunch of gravel, before Roger's home.