Henrietta's War (19 page)

In the end we had to put it on the dustbin-lid and carry it between us.

‘I hope it isn't one of those explosive ones,' I said nervously, as we reeled, panting, up the garden path, and the lodger gave a contemptuous snort. The next minute a little figure staggered out from behind some bushes. It was Mrs Simpkins, wearing corduroy trousers, which she had treasured for goodness knows how many months against such an emergency, over her nightgown.

‘It's my bomb!' cried Mrs Simpkins, like a lion defending its cubs.

‘We've come to put it out for you,' said the lodger.

‘I don't want you to put it out for me. I want to put it out for myself.'

‘The sand-bag is too heavy for you.'

‘It isn't. It isn't. I've been practising.'

‘Ours has got more sand in it.'

‘It's my bomb!'

We glared at each other, our faces distorted with passion in the lurid light. Suddenly the bomb went out. It must have been burning for some time, and perhaps it wasn't a very good one, anyway.

Always your affectionate Childhood's Friend,

HENRIETTA

May 14, 1941

M
Y DEAR ROBERT
There are rumours that we are to have another change of soldiery, and that means another row of fortifications. Sometimes the new soldiery pulls down the fortifications it finds when it arrives, and sometimes it just adds to them, but it always gives us to understand that until it came we had been but poorly protected, but that now we may sleep peacefully in our beds, secure from Invasion.

We already have many guns which poke out of unexpected places. Some of them don't even poke, and are so cleverly concealed that even visiting generals are deceived.

The gun I hate most is the one which is hidden behind a little trap-door. Every morning when I take Perry for his walk on what nature and the British Army have left us of the cliff path, the little trap-door is open and a wicked-looking muzzle peers out with a baleful, one-eyed expression. It always seems to be pointing straight at me. If I hug the wall it still points at me, and when I move over to the other side and risk my life by walking on the extreme edge of the cliff the gun slews slowly round in my direction.

I remind myself that I am the daughter and granddaughter of soldiers, and try not to walk more quickly. I remember Mr Churchill's speech and the Charge of the Light Brigade. I move to the middle of the path, and so does the gun, and I remember how our father never allowed us to point guns at anybody, not even toy ones, because it was a Dangerous Thing To Do. I remember that yesterday was real gun practice day, with the cliff path closed to the public, and I wonder whether just one teeny little shell may not have been left in by mistake. I remember the Linnet's remark that you simply wouldn't believe what a lot of soldiers are in hospital because guns have gone off when people didn't know they were loaded.

The Whinebites's telephone never stopped ringing

Mrs Whinebite gave a party during War Weapons Week. We each had to bring half a crown and our own tea, and though we were all glad to do what we could for the W.W.W., everybody felt she had no right to take all the credit herself, though the anachronism idea was hers. In the corner of each invitation was written, ‘Please bring a War Anachronism with you.' This created a good deal of excitement in the place, and for three days the Whinebites' telephone never stopped ringing, because some people didn't know what an anachronism was, and the others rang up to make sure they had got the idea all right.

The party was quite a success. It started rather stickily because it was a very cold day and Mrs Whinebite is the sort of person who never lights a fire once the spring cleaning is done. But the Conductor threw a lighted match into the grate and pretended he had done it by mistake, and soon we had a good blaze and everybody cheered up. We made rather a lot of crumbs, eating out of our paper bags; but, as Faith said, that was Mrs Whinebite's fault for not providing us with plates.

Some of the anachronisms were quite good. Of course, a lot of people brought what had once been boxes of chocolates, and there were a few pathetic dance programmes, and one or two city-banquet menus which people kept reading aloud to each other. Faith brought a Mrs Beeton cookery book which began, ‘Take the yolks of eight eggs and a pint of cream.' The Admiral brought an A.A. route for a motoring tour from here to the north of Scotland, and Mrs Simpkins's brother, old General Tayling, who is eighty-four, came as himself. He said he was an anachronism of this war if ever there was one. We voted for the prize, which was an extremely handsome one three large onions. Lady B won it with her quotation, ‘The Carpenter said nothing but “The butter's spread – too thick.”'

Always your affectionate Childhood's Friend,

HENRIETTA

May 21, 1941

M
Y DEAR ROBERT
Everybody is beginning to think that it is time Faith gave the Conductor a definite answer one way or the other. He has been losing a lot of weight during the last few months, and though that may be due rather to the rationing than to Faith, his behaviour to the choir, ever since Christmas, can only be the result of nerves strained to breaking-point.

Last Tuesday when we sang an F sharp instead of an F natural three times in succession, which is really nothing for this choir, the Conductor threw down his bâton and walked out.

I was very angry with Faith for causing so much unnecessary suffering, and when she came round yesterday afternoon while I was weeding the kitchen-garden path, I determined to take her to task, as they say.

‘How nice you look, Faith,' I said, which was a bad beginning, but I just couldn't help saying it.

‘This old rag?' said Faith, as she always does. Then she lay down among the bluebells under the mulberry-tree and said she'd been up with the A.R.P. all night and was worn out. The bluebells exactly matched her eyes, but I hardened my heart against her, and said,

‘You don't do a rap of work during the day, anyhow.'

Faith sat up. ‘Why are you being so unkind to me, Henrietta?' she said piteously.

‘Why are
you
being so unkind, if it comes to that?' I said, stabbing at a large dandelion with my hoe.

‘I can't marry him,' said Faith sadly. ‘He snores.' And she lay down among the bluebells.

I put down my hoe. ‘Faith,' I said, ‘how do you know he snores?'

‘I hear him at the A.R.P.,' said Faith, with her eyes shut.

In silence I picked up my hoe and renewed my attack upon the dandelion. After a little time Faith sat up again. ‘Henrietta,' she said, opening her bluebell eyes very wide, ‘why did you say that?'

‘Let it pass,' I said. ‘I always thought you sat up on hard chairs all night with your gas-masks on. This is the first I've heard of beds and snoring.'

‘There's only one bed,' said Faith.

‘Surely you don't
all
– '

‘No, no. Of course not. It's a very small camp affair. The one who's on duty all night, whether there's an alert or not, has The Bed.'

I laid down my hoe a second time and joined her among the bluebells, for I found this conversation of absorbing interest.

‘Tell me, Faith,' I said, ‘do the men get into pyjamas?'

‘No,' said Faith. ‘They take off their collars and ties.'

‘Naturally.'

‘All except Mr Savernack, who keeps his on and lies
outside
the blanket.'

Outside the blanket

‘Quite likely it is Mrs Savernack's wish, Faith.'

‘Quite likely, Henrietta.'

There was a silence while I reflected, not for the first time, that the Civil Defence has all the excitement of this war.

‘Colonel Simpkins is a very quiet sleeper,' said Faith.

‘I have always looked upon him as the perfect type of English gentleman.'

‘At eleven o'clock the Admiral comes and puts out the light and says “No more talking”.'

‘That must be rather dull.'

‘Yes. But you see, it isn't fair to the one in The Bed if we chatter all night.'

‘Quite.'

Soon afterwards Faith went away. I walked to the gate with her, for she seemed rather sad. ‘I shouldn't bother too much about the snoring,' I said, squeezing her arm. ‘A lot of people snore in camp-beds who never snore anywhere else.'

‘Do you think so?' said Faith, brightening a little.

‘I'm sure of it. And I think it's Simply Wonderful What You Are Doing, Faith.' I think it is the duty of all those without brassards to make this remark as often as possible. It never fails to gratify, and in this case it worked wonders. Faith positively danced down the road, and stopped at the corner to wave.

Soon after she had gone the Conductor appeared. When I told him Faith had gone he said he wouldn't wait, and for the second time that afternoon I left my weeding to walk to the gate.

‘Faith's been telling me about the A.R.P.,' I said. ‘I had no idea people had to sleep down there all night. I think it's Simply Wonderful – '

But the Conductor wasn't listening. A tender smile lit up his face. ‘She does snore so, bless her heart!' he said. ‘You know, Henrietta, you simply wouldn't believe such a loud noise could be made by such a darling little nose.'

Always your affectionate Childhood's Friend,

HENRIETTA

June 4, 1941

M
Y DEAR ROBERT
Lady B is going to sell her house. Everybody was very much upset when they heard the news, for she has always seemed to us to be in her perfect setting, and her evacuees set up a doleful howling. However, she told them that if there was room in her new flat she would take the one who was the least trouble with her. She says after that their behaviour was so exemplary it quite embarrassed her.

For a long time she has been saying that she couldn't afford the house, but it was when the old gardener had to give up work, and there wasn't another to be had, that she decided that it was time to go.

‘I'm too old to dig,' she said, ‘and it isn't fair to neglect a garden these days.'