Henrietta's War (22 page)

Charles was out, and Lady B and I were spending a quiet evening together – at least, that had been the idea. We were enjoying a cosy chat on carnation cuttings, when the door burst open and Mrs Savernack rushed in, dragging Faith behind her.

‘How dare you betray the sacred trust placed in you as a Doctor's Wife?' she said in a voice choked with rage.

‘What have I done, Mrs Savernack?' I cried, starting to my feet, for my wifely conscience is never clear.

‘You told Faith that Gladys was leaving.'

‘I don't see what that has to do with Charles,' said Lady B.

‘I suppose you'll say Henry's headaches are nothing to do with Charles?' said Mrs Savernack, rounding on her.

‘Of course, if I'd known Henrietta was betraying a trust – ' said Faith, throwing me to the lions.

‘Henrietta is always most discreet,' said Lady B.

‘She'd have a better chance if you didn't spoil her so,' said Mrs Savernack.

By this time we were all so angry there was no drawing back. Faith and Mrs Savernack, who in some strange way had become allies, told Lady B and me exactly what they thought of us, and we did the same. I always stammer when I'm angry, and a lot of my best bits were lost, but Lady B got in some good ones. I don't remember all that was said, and perhaps it is just as well, but I distinctly remember Lady B telling Mrs Savernack she was fat, insensitive and noisy, and somebody told me I was conceited and artificial, and my vagueness was a pose.

At the end of five minutes we were all white with rage and mortification, and nobody heard the telephone. Then Charles came in to say Mr Savernack had rung up to say that Gladys felt she couldn't leave the dogs, and had decided to stay after all.

Mrs Savernack and Faith went off quite jauntily, arm in arm, but Lady B and I had to be given whisky to stop our legs shaking. Charles laughed a lot when we told him about the row. He said it was better than saying things behind each other's backs, anyway.

Always your affectionate Childhood's Friend,

HENRIETTA

September 10, 1941

M
Y DEAR ROBERT
When I was shopping in the street the other day, I suddenly caught sight of myself in a glass, and, my word, Robert, it gave me a shock – two strained and popping eyes crowned by a worried frown, nose slightly unpowdered, deep lines, as the beauty specialist would say, running from nose to chin, and lips so tightly compressed that it was impossible to say whether they had been decently coloured that morning or not.

‘Good heavens!' I cried aloud. ‘This is terrible!'

‘What is?' said Mrs Savernack, who was just coming out of the butcher's.

‘My face,' I said.

‘Is it?' said Mrs Savernack, without looking at me, and added passionately: ‘I do think Thompson is
unfair
with his suet.'

I walked slowly up the street, and noticed that every woman with a shopping basket had the Shopping Face. The contrast between them and the visitors, who were living in hotels or had landladies to do the shopping for them, and had only come out to buy picture postcards, was almost frightening. Then I saw Lady B sailing down the street like a stately galleon. Her face was calm and placid as well as being nicely made-up. In her hand she carried an enormous basket which was full to overflowing.

I dashed across the road and seized her by the hand. ‘Darling Lady B!' I said. ‘How do you do it?'

‘Do what, Henrietta?'

‘Look so calm and lovely in the middle of this battlefield.'

‘Thank goodness there's

‘I don't always
feel
calm,' said Lady B. ‘But when I begin to want to scream I do this.' She took me by the arm and led me through the little alley-way which runs beside the ironmonger's to the sea. ‘I stand here,' said Lady B, ‘and look at the sea, and then I take six deep breaths and say, “Thank goodness there's enough of something.” Then I go back and finish my shopping.'

The sea was looking very lovely that morning a deep indigo on – the horizon, fading to grey – and there was obviously a great deal of it. Fortified, I returned to the grocer's and waited my turn in the queue.

After I had given my order, Mr Green leant across the counter and whispered, ‘I've got a quarter of sultanas here if you'd care for them.'

‘Mr Green!' I said, and sat down suddenly on a chair, for my legs had given way beneath me.

By the time I got home I felt so exhilarated by the thought of Home-Made Cake for Bill and Linnet's next visit that I decided to put the energy to some use and started on the windows.

The strips of material which I had pasted on so carefully a year ago were now covered in leprous spots and it was a relief to get rid of them. I was engaged upon this pleasing task when I saw Lady B coming up the garden path, and I dropped a little strip of wet linen on her.

‘God bless my soul!' said Lady B. ‘I suppose that was you, Henrietta. Can I come up?'

‘Of course,' I said.

‘I'm glad you're taking that stuff
off
,' said Lady B, arriving slightly out of breath in my bedroom. ‘Are you going to paste net all over the glass?'

‘No,' I said, ‘I am not. This winter is going to be quite depressing enough without having to live in a perpetual twilight as well.'

‘I couldn't agree with you more,' said Lady B, settling herself comfortably on my bed.

I lifted the corner of a linen strip with my finger-nail and pulled. It came away with a delicious tearing sound. ‘Fascinating!' said Lady B.

‘I always imagined myself doing this while the bells were pealing for victory,' I said.

‘There's still the black-out to tear down,' said Lady B. ‘That will be most enjoyable.'

‘When I pasted these strips on,' I said as I polished the glass with a duster, ‘I was in a blue funk. I couldn't settle to anything, I was so frightened. But in some peculiar way, pasting strips of old table-cloths all over the windows steadied me. I felt much better after I'd done it.'

‘I believe all those pasting instructions by the B.B.C. were nothing but a sedative to housewives,' said Lady B. ‘There are times when I think our Government understands us better than we think it does.'

‘It's funny how much less frightened one is now, because, of course, there's just as much reason to be frightened, if not more.'

‘We are given Strength,' said Lady B serenely. ‘But come along, Henrietta. Stuff those rags in the waste-paper basket. I expect the kettle's boiling.'

Always your affectionate Childhood's Friend,

HENRIETTA

November 5, 1941

M
Y DEAR ROBERT
Yesterday there was a loud rat-a-tat-tat at the front door, and I rushed downstairs thinking it was a telegram. It wasn't a telegram, but a large, heavy, exciting-looking parcel.

‘Here you are,' said the postman, beaming like Father Christmas, ‘one-and-a-penny to pay.'

‘My goodness!' I said. ‘How exciting! What do you think it is?'

‘Something good, by the look of it,' said the postman.

I carried the parcel into the kitchen, and Evensong and I turned it over, shook it, smelt it, pressed it and examined the labels.

‘Funny-looking stamps, aren't they?' said Evensong.

‘They're Australian stamps. Look, that's a lyre-bird. Isn't it pretty?'

‘How do you know it's a lyre-bird?' said Evensong, who doubts my intelligence.

‘I used to live in Australia once.'

‘Well, I never!' said Evensong, staring at me.

Inside the wrappings was a sealed tin. Evensong, who wields a pretty tin-opener, soon dealt with that. Inside the tin were packages.

‘Sugar!' said Evensong, with a glad shout.

‘Sultanas!'

‘Marmalade!'

‘Tea!' – ‘Tongue!' – ‘Asparagus tips!' – ‘Cheese!'

‘Butter-scotch!' ‘Oh, Evensong! A little tin of honey!'

Evensong and I stared at each other in silence across the kitchen-table. ‘I shall make plum duff for dinner tonight,' said Evensong, in a dreamy voice.

‘Sultanas! Marmalade!'

After Evensong had extracted a generous portion of sultanas and sugar, we arranged the packages on a tray, which I carried about with me from room to room. When Faith rang up later I told her what had happened, and the news spread like wildfire. By seven o'clock quite a lot of people had been in to feast their eyes, and Evensong began to be nervous, and said she thought we ought to keep it all under lock and key.

‘Anything happened?' said Charles, as he hung his hat up in the hall.

‘Cornucopia has happened, Charles.'

‘What do you mean?'

I held up the tray which I was carrying into the drawing-room for the evening. Charles, his eyes bulging out of his head, approached on tiptoe and touched each package with his finger, as though he doubted its reality. ‘Where did they come from?' he whispered.

‘Australia. Here's the card. It isn't anybody we know.'

Charles looked at me with a new respect. ‘Somebody must have read one of your mouldy little stories,' he said in an astonished voice.

We had plum duff for dinner, real plum duff, as only an unhampered Evensong can make it, thick with sultanas, and sweet. Afterwards Charles called for the last half-decanter of port. After he had poured out a glass for himself and for me, he stood up.

‘I feel I cannot allow this occasion to pass without proposing a toast,' he said, in his best public-dinner manner. ‘I ask you to drink to the Commonwealth of Australia, and to our Benefactress who lives there, and who must assuredly be one of the kindest people in the world.'

‘The Commonwealth of Australia, and our Benefactress!' I said, and we drained our glasses to the dregs.

Always your affectionate Childhood's Friend,

HENRIETTA