Regret to Inform You... (37 page)

Provided
we all pull together and persevere, we with 1,287 million can confidently expect to conquer only 162 million against us. Above all, we trust in God, who is a righteous judge, “If God is for us, who can be against us?”

‘Well?' Arthur asked as Eleanor laid the papers down. ‘What do you make of that?'

‘I really can't make out this man. He must be an intelligent person to have become dean, but I am amazed at what he says and now, what he writes. Does he believe that the people in some of these countries really care what is happening in Europe or, worse still, is he suggesting that if the allies and the central powers continue fighting and killing each other in equal numbers that we will eventually win because we have some men left? He appears to think that God is on our side because we have more.' She gave a gentle shake of her head and let out a faint sigh; whether the cause was her headache or the missive from the dean, Arthur was unsure.

‘Don't you think you are a little harsh on him, darling? He means well.'

‘But meaning well is not good enough. He needs to think more carefully what his privileged position allows him to write.'

‘Well,' replied Arthur, ‘I certainly find the communication unhelpful.' He paused for a moment as he stood up. ‘But I must leave you for a short while; you should rest. I want to call on Mary and Aubrey Bellamy who are finding life very hard after hearing the sad news about Wilfred. They miss him so much.'

‘Bless you for going, Arthur. It doesn't seem possible that two more men have been killed since Wilfred's death and I'm sure they won't be the last.'

Having put on his lightest jacket, Arthur turned to Eleanor, ‘I'll be back within the hour. I thought we might go on a little walk later.'

‘
That would be lovely. I just want to write two letters including one to your mother, confirming that we are travelling down on the Tuesday.'

Early on the following Saturday evening, Willy Johnson came striding along Pond Street, kitbag on shoulder and waving to villagers who called out a greeting. Hastening into Meadow Way, it was his youngest sister Eliza who saw him first. She let out a joyful scream and sprinted towards him and threw herself into his arms. Willy gave the eleven-year-old a loving kiss, realising how much she had grown since he was last home. ‘Oh Lizzy, it's lovely to see you after so long. Is everyone at home?'

‘I'm not sure, Willy. We've all been talking about you; I can hardly believe it. I'm going to tell everyone.'

She ran on, but didn't wait to get indoors before she was announcing that her brother was home. By the time he got to the door, his mother and Ruby were there. With tears in their eyes they took it in turn to engulf him in their arms and smother him with kisses. Smiling broadly, Willy eased away a little. ‘It's wonderful to see you.'

It was a fine, balmy evening and for three hours the Johnson family sat in their small back garden, smiling, chatting, telling Willy of what they had been doing since they had last seen him; Judith noticing how little her son spoke of what she knew must be the dark side of his time in the army. When young Robert and David asked him about fighting the Germans he passed it off lightly, simply saying that he had a job to do. Ruby made Willy promise that they could go the next day to see the buzzard which she hoped would be waiting for them in her brother's tree.

The sun shone its best summer warmth as they set out on the track that they had not walked together for two years; Ruby took her brother's hand and led, almost pulling him up the slight hill. She had already plied her brother with many
questions
about buzzards which he had done his best to answer.

‘That's right,' agreed the excited Ruby, ‘it was just before Easter I saw the pair of buzzards and the nest had already been built. Oh, it's so exciting, Willy!'

They were now approaching the dark green hedge already covered with berries that edged the field in which Willy's tree stood. Responding to further questions, he explained there was an incubation time of around five weeks and that the pair of buzzards would have mated for life.

‘Oh, that's lovely,' his sister interrupted. ‘They seemed very fond of each other.' She suddenly stopped as the tree came in sight. ‘There's our tree.'

‘Let's just go on a little way and then sit and wait. You did very well to see it.' The oak tree was now heavily laden with its ever-darkening green leaves and above its sturdy base only glimpses of branches could be seen. They sat and waited. Willy saw the buzzard first, perched on one of the few bare branches in the lower part of the tree, but he waited.

‘There it is!' cried Ruby. He enabled her to describe its position in the tree before saying: ‘Oh yes Ruby, I see it. Well spotted.' They continued to sit, waiting; the silence broken by a soaring skylark and their own sporadic talk about the buzzards.

‘Oh Willy, I'm so glad you have come home. You won't really have to go away again, will you?'

Willy put his hand on that of his dear sister, ‘Yes I will, but I hope it won't be for too long this time.' He loved all his siblings, but Ruby held a special place in his heart. He turned and looked at her; she had become an attractive young woman, her light brown hair framing her fairly plain, but honest and gentle face. He saw tears running down her face.

‘Don't worry Ruby, I'll be all right. It won't be long before the war is over and I'll be home for good. I expect I'll be working for Major de Maine again although I know Mr
Mansfield
has really taken over. Then we can walk together up this track each day to work, just as we used to.'

The tears increased and sobs broke forth and at the mention of Major de Maine's name he could see her body tremble.

‘What is it, Ruby? What's wrong? You can tell me, maybe I can help.'

‘Oh Willy, I'm not sure. You won't tell mummy will you, promise?'

‘Not if you don't want me to.' He put his arm gently round her shoulders, took out a light-coloured handkerchief and dabbed her cheeks, but the tears continued to roll. ‘Come on love, just tell me.'

‘Oh Willy, it's awful and I'm so ashamed.' She paused, looked at Willy and realised his supportive look which she had so often known when she was younger. ‘You see, it's about Master Lionel.' The picture came to Willy of the de Maine's youngest son. He must be in his early twenties by now, remembered as an arrogant and unpleasant young man.

‘So what about Lionel?'

‘Well, he makes me do things. Lots of things I don't like.'

‘What kind of things? Does he bully you?'

Ruby had turned red; he waited, just giving her a reassuring squeeze round her shoulders. ‘Well,' she finally said, ‘he feels my titties.' Involuntarily she placed one hand on her ample breasts. ‘He makes me take off my dress and puts his hand up here.' She moved her hand to the top of her legs. ‘Sometimes he rubs me here as well. It's horrible.' Willy felt he should say something, horrified and deeply shocked though he was.

‘But Ruby, if you hated what he was doing, why didn't you stop him?'

‘He said that if I didn't let him do these things or if I told anyone, Major de Maine would stop us living in our cottage. Oh, Willy, I've been frightened for so long.'

‘Ruby, you mustn't worry. It was wicked and wrong what
he
did, but it's not your fault that he's been so bad. When did he begin to do these things?'

‘It was a long time ago. Do you remember that time there was a party in Mr Jackson's barn, when we went together with Fred and Racer and all our friends? It was before then.'

Willy's mind went back to the party that had been given to thank all the employees: nearly four and a half years ago. He vaguely remembered how Ruby had asked if Lionel de Maine was going to the party and then when they were there, she had first wanted to go home and then clung to him. ‘Did anything else happen?' he asked, trying to keep the rising anxiety out of his voice.

‘Sometimes he made me rub his cock. Well, that's what he called it.'

‘And Ruby, did all this happen often?'

‘Well, it did when he was home, but he's often away for a long time now. But he's still the same. Willy, what should I do?'

Willy was appalled at what his loving sister had told him. He was so angry at himself for not realising how she was suffering over four years previously. He just wanted to hold his sister and beat Lionel up.

‘Ruby, I can promise you that nothing like this will ever happen again. I will stop this wicked man ever hurting you. I promise and no one else need ever know.'

‘Oh Willy, I knew you would help me. And you really promise you won't tell mummy?'

He smiled the gentlest of smiles and wiped away the drying tears from Ruby's face. ‘I promise. Do you remember what we used to say? “It may be wet, it may be dry, but I cut my throat if I tell a lie”.' The faintest of smiles appeared on Ruby's face.

Later that day Willy excused himself from the family by saying he wanted to call on Eliza and Sparky Carey and Liz Smith. Hard though he knew such calls would be to make, he had to see the bereaved parents of his great friends. Stories of
their
friendships and days shared between Willy and their sons somehow brought a little comfort, at least briefly when he visited. Not finding it easy to deceive his parents, he needed to see Lionel de Maine immediately. He must stop this monster from abusing and frightening his precious sister. As he moved swiftly along the track to the manor, he realised that it would be of little use to plead for an end to the abuse. No, he would threaten Lionel de Maine that if he even spoke to Ruby again he would personally beat him up, tell his parents and make his behaviour known throughout Rusfield. But, he thought, Lionel would know that Willy would soon be back in France and he had promised Ruby that others would not know what had transpired. Well, he would lie and say that he had just told Ruby's father who would do the same to Lionel; indeed, perhaps, he should tell him anyway.

It was Mrs de Maine who answered the door, as Florrie had long since moved to join her sister in Canchester and Elsie, the only full-time domestic servant, had Sundays off. A smile broke out on Isabella de Maine's face. ‘Why, Willy, how wonderful to see you. I heard you were coming home on leave, how kind of you to call on us.'

Before Willy could say anything, she called: ‘Sebastian, come and see who's here: a real surprise. Come in and tell us how you are.' The normally quick-thinking and imaginative Willy found himself nomnplussed by his reception; this was some way off from a confrontation with the son of the manor owners. Willy followed the couple across the hall and into the large lounge. ‘I have just made a large pot of tea. Let me get an extra cup and we can share it together,' Isabella said. The tea was poured for him and it was the major who led the conversation, asking how Willy's war was going; Isabella de Maine asked after Willy's personal well-being and his family.

Willy had always thought of his past employer and wife as good people, but he had never seen this friendly and warm side of them. They told him how the single farm under the
overall
ownership of Jack Mansfield was prospering now that its emphasis was on growing barley and other crops. Willy was thinking of his next move and after some twenty minutes broke into the talk about local farming. He tensed up a little as he said: ‘It is so good to see you and how kind of you to have made me so welcome. I would really like to see Lionel, is that possible?'

Major de Maine and his wife may well have been surprised at his request as they had never been aware of any closeness between their youngest son and this fine soldier. ‘I'm afraid it's not possible,' answered Isabella de Maine. ‘As you know, conscription came in earlier this year and Lionel was called up in April. He spent some time training, but yesterday he reported to his regiment's headquarters and will now be on his way to France. In fact he's now a junior officer with the Suffolks: the same regiment as you. Maybe you will come across each other.'

F
ORTY-FOUR

August 1916

Tempted at first to tell Major and Mrs de Maine of their son's appalling behaviour, Willy had stopped short; for once with the de Maines it was beyond his ability to keep things a secret. At least with Lionel in France, Ruby was safe for the present. Maybe the best person to speak to was the vicar; he was a discreet man; Willy decided to think about that.

As he turned into Pond Street he virtually bumped into Grace Reynolds, bound for her cottage near the pond. ‘Willy, I heard you were home on leave; it's a real joy to see you.'

‘Grace, and how splendid to see you.' Grace had always been the most attractive girl at school and all his mates had thought how lucky Racer was to have her as a girlfriend; she really was beautiful. ‘How are you and all your family? Are you enjoying teaching?' Willy asked.

‘Yes, thank you. Everyone's well, although we had a bit of a scare when young Lily caught measles, but she recovered well enough. And I love teaching; Wensfield School reminds me of our time at Rusfield, but we have our down times as well. I have twins in my class and last month their father was killed in France: so terribly sad.'

Willy nodded; he had seen friends' families devastated by
recent
deaths. ‘And how is Racer or, as I should say to you,' he added with a smile, ‘Abraham.'

‘Oh, he's fine; at least that's what he wrote in his recent letter. It was wonderful seeing him in March. I know he was worried about Boney and it's terrible about Jammy and Fred. When this terrible war is over we shall all realise how much we miss them. But Willy, you may be just the person who can help. You're home for quite a few days aren't you?'

‘For ten more days. What can I do?'