Searching for Pemberley (40 page)

It was Geoff. Beth was pleased to see him, and he put on his best public school manners and asked after the family. Reaching into her purse, she took out a piece of paper. “I've had a letter
from Michael.” I moved to the sofa, so that Geoff and I could read it together. “I apologize for the handwriting. I don't know what happened there, and he often forgets to date his letters.” I thought to myself, so did William Lacey.

Dear Mom, Dad, James, Angela, and Maggie,

This is my first day off since I arrived. It's been ten days of twelve-hour shifts. Lubeck was used by the Luftwaffe as a night fighter base (Junkers 88s for those interested). Because it was a permanent installation on the North Sea, we have some very nice digs. The barracks is a brick building with central heating and is well insulated.

Since my arrival, I have been working on C-47 Dakotas exclusively. The Dakotas' cargo is mostly coal, tobacco, and flour, but one crew delivered the goat mascot for the South Wales Borderer Regiment. The dust from the coal and flour get into everything, and it's a nasty business cleaning everything for the next go-round, but these crews are stellar.

Starting tomorrow, I will be flying in and out of Berlin to work on aircraft that, for one reason or another, were unfit for the return flight. My crew and I will fly in with the parts, fix it, and return to Lubeck. The sergeant major asked if I wanted to go home on a short leave or have the time deducted from the end of my enlistment. I chose the latter because that will get me home on or about November 18th instead of the 25th.

Even though I don't write that often, it doesn't mean you shouldn't. I'm too tired to do anything other than read your letters. It would be a lonely place without them. I love you all.

Mike

“Mike's the last one to be demobbed,” Geoff said, “so we'll have to have a grand party welcoming him back to civilian life.”

“Will Alberta be joining us?” Beth asked.

“No. Bertie and I have parted company,” Geoff said without his usual flippancy. “On the advice of a friend, I ended it because it was basically unworkable.”

After several discussions with Geoff about his relationship with Alberta, he had asked for my opinion. I told him that if I was in a relationship that was unworkable, I would rather know about it sooner rather than later. I had started a letter to Rob saying just that, but that letter was on my desk next to one I had received from my mother telling me my Aunt Marie was unwell. Mom did not say I should come home, but knowing how important my aunt was to me, she wanted to let me know that, at my aunt's age, things could go from bad to worse very quickly.

Other than my mother, my grandmother's sister Marie was the most important person in my life. She believed I could do anything I set my mind to. When I wanted to move to Washington after finishing secretarial school, my mother thought I was too shy to work in a big city, but Aunt Marie had encouraged me to go. When I hesitated about going to Germany to work for the Army Exchange Service, she told me if I didn't go, I'd end up marrying a local boy and popping a kid out every other year. She practically pushed me out the door.

“Does your mother know about Alberta?” Beth asked Geoff.

“No. Mother has taken up residence at Lily's house. I think she's exhibiting an overabundance of caution regarding her pregnancy. Yes, she had a miscarriage, but so did you and so did my mother. It does not automatically follow that a miscarriage is a harbinger of future problem pregnancies.”

“It's good of you to be so brave about this, Geoff,” Beth said, clearly annoyed. Standing up, she added, “I'm very tired, and I need to ring Jack.”

After Beth left the room, I told Geoff I didn't know that Beth had a miscarriage.

“It happened in India when Violet and I were staying with Jack and Beth. Beth said she was going to lie down. The next thing I know, she's calling for James to get Ayah and for Michael to bring some towels. When we found her, she was sitting on the bathroom floor with her head on the tub, quietly crying.” Standing up, he said, “Excuse me. I need to find Beth.”

At breakfast, I told Beth that Geoff felt awful about what he had said. I was sticking up for someone who probably didn't deserve it.

“Don't worry, Maggie. Geoff is a very complex character, and I, perhaps more than anyone else, understand why he says the things he does. When he was with Jack and me in India, I was very hard on him. He was ten years old and throwing tantrums, something I never tolerated in my sons when they were toddlers. When he did come around, I found him to be extraordinarily bright and likable.

“Rather than sending Geoff and Violet back to England for schooling, I convinced Patricia to allow the children to stay with me and that I would supervise their education. When Geoff misbehaved, I told him if he didn't straighten up, he would be joining his Burden cousins at Glenkill. That kept him in check.”

“Why? What's wrong with Glenkill?”

“Nothing, if it's the right fit, as it was with my boys. These public schools place a great deal of emphasis on games. Geoff is an agile athlete, but he has a slight build, which would have made him a target for bullies. Besides, he's an intellectual with a love for history and the arts. Glenkill was all wrong for him. He managed to get expelled within a month of his arrival.”

Beth started to laugh. “He was very clever. He knew that attending religious services was mandatory, but from the beginning, he skipped out on chapel. When he was called before the headmaster, he declared he could not attend chapel because he was agnostic. The school notified Patricia that he could not continue, which is exactly what he wanted in the first place.

“Rand shrugged it off and enrolled Geoff at St. Paul's in London, but Patricia was furious because the Burdens had been one of the founding families of the school. When she told him that every boy in the family had gone to Glenkill for generations, Geoff said…” Beth started to laugh. “He told his mother that generations of Burden males had pissed in the fireplace, 'but we don't do that anymore.'”

I could just picture Geoff standing defiantly before his black-robed headmaster. Geoff was not the big, tall fellow his father was, but he was someone who would stand firm if he believed in something.

“He certainly changes the discussion,” I said, declining Beth's offer of sherry.

“Oh, yes. Where was I? It was when Jack and I were having a romp in the stables. We spent as much time pulling hay out of my hair as we did kissing,” Beth said, laughing. “But then the war came. All my stories end with 'but then the war came.'

“My first involvement with the war effort was when our
housemistress at Newnham asked if some of the girls would volunteer to go to the railway station to serve coffee to regiments passing through on their way to the Channel ports. But when we got to the station, the Red Cross had already set everything up. The woman in charge asked if we would be available to help with other things, such as knitting mufflers, and she explained that there were sewing and knitting clubs being organized to teach people how to do those things. All the while I was knitting balaclavas, socks, and mufflers, the British Expeditionary Forces, including Rand, were retreating from Mons in Belgium leaving thousands of dead behind them. Because of censorship, I don't think anyone realized the extent of our losses.

“Our next assignment was to go to a warehouse that had been converted into a hospital. When the wounded arrived, we found they were not British at all, but Belgians. They were exhausted, filthy, and covered with lice, so we threw their uniforms into tubs of boiling water. This experience proved to be quite an eye-opener for me. Let's just say their ideas regarding sanitation and modesty were quite different from mine.”

Beth stood up and asked if I had changed my mind about having a sherry, as she was going to have another. Even though it was getting late, and I had to work the next day, I said “yes” because I believed I was finally going to hear about Colin Matheson.

“I have avoided telling you about Colin because, after all of these years, I still find it difficult to talk about him. After Jack pushed off on me, I returned to London, where Colin was waiting. Because of his reputation, I had concerns about whether or not he could be faithful to one woman. I knew from an earlier conversation that he had tired of the whole London social scene. He didn't want to have any more conversations with
empty-headed debutantes, and he was tired of being the entertainment for bored wives. But it was only after he had assured me of his fidelity that I agreed to an engagement.

“Over the course of the summer, Colin courted me in royal fashion. There was hardly a day that went by when I didn't get flowers or notes or something that had belonged to his mother. I allowed myself to believe I was in love. Since I couldn't have Jack, the next best thing was Colin. But then the war came. See what I mean?

“Colin had served in the Irish Guards for four years and was considered to be a reserve officer. When war broke out, he was called up immediately. He fought at the First Battle of Ypres with the Guards suffering horrendous casualties. In December, he was given leave to come home so we could become engaged. But before I left Montclair for London, our family had the traditional Christmas tea. I kept looking at Jack, pleading for him to say something, but he didn't.

“Colin was a sensible man, and he thought our wedding should be postponed until after the war. I've often wondered if we would have acted differently if we had known how long the war would last. He returned to Belgium in January and came home for leave in May. With both armies now trapped in static trench warfare, Colin hoped the combatants would negotiate a peace settlement. It was very difficult for him because he had studied in Dresden and had many German friends. He could hardly believe he might be shooting at them.

“I traveled with him to Harwich to see him off. He must have had a premonition about not surviving the war because he gave me his mother's engagement and wedding rings. In his last letter, he wrote that his sector was very quiet. The biggest threats came
from infiltrators and snipers and the occasional artillery bombardment each side used to remind the other they were still there.

“Colin was the last in his family, so when the telegram came, it was delivered to my father, whom Colin had listed as next of kin. He had been killed on July 2, 1915, in an artillery barrage. His colonel wrote that his death was immediate, and he did not suffer. I only hope it was true.” After pausing to dry her tears, Beth continued, “It's so sad, because Colin had no one to keep his memory alive, so his mother's rings have been in my jewelry box for thirty years.

“I remember crying on and off for days, and would do so again when Trevor was killed that autumn and Tom the following summer. By the time Matthew was killed, there had been so much death on the Somme, that it was a part of daily life. Someone you knew was going to get a telegram from the War Office. By the end of the war, I was barely functioning as a human being. What saved me was my love for Jack, and in the years following the war, my children. You have to move on, or you become a well of sadness.”

After hearing about Beth's losses, I started to cry, and I knew it was time for me to go home. I wanted to be with my family, and I explained to Beth about my Aunt Marie.

Beth shook her head and said, “Maggie, please don't. I know I'm being selfish, but this will be the first Christmas since 1940 that I'll have all of my family together, and I consider you to be a part of my family. If you will stay until the new year, I'll pay for an air transport ticket for you to the States.” Taking my hands in hers, she asked, “Will you do this for me?”

I loved Beth, but I was having the same tug at my heart as she was. I missed my family terribly. I was even starting to miss
my brother. But it was my fear that Aunt Marie would die before I could see her again that was adding urgency to my plans to go home. I agreed to stay as long as I didn't receive any bad news about my aunt. Beth gave me a quick hug and said, “Besides, Michael is coming home, and you wouldn't want to leave before seeing him.”

IN PREPARATION FOR MICHAEL'S party, Beth sent me to an Italian bakery in Finsbury where Angela bought her pasta when she had lived in London. Because Angela was so beautiful, she received extra rations of flour and homemade pasta from an admiring Mr. Giordano. Hopefully, just by mentioning Angela's name, I would get the same results. I did get what I wanted, but so did Mr. Giordano, who managed to brush up against both my backside and my breasts. In case I had to come back for more, I actually thanked him.

When I got home, the first thing I did was to check to see if I had any mail. I wasn't expecting any letters, nor was I expecting to see a RAF hat on the table and a RAF overcoat on the coat rack. I wasn't Sherlock Holmes, but there seemed to be only one explanation—Michael was home early from Germany. I quietly opened the door to the morning room, and there was Michael, stretched out the length of a chair and ottoman, sound asleep. The fire had gone cold, but, apparently, so had Michael, who was softly snoring.