The Chilbury Ladies' Choir(107)



The Brigadier said I could stay, so I am part of the family. I call Mrs. Winthrop Auntie Lavinia, and Venetia and Kitty are my new sisters for now. Everyone is very kind to me, especially the choir ladies. Mrs. Poultice always gives me an apple and a special smile.

I think about my parents a lot. I want to go to them. I want to see them, hug them. It is hard. I dream about them and wake up crying. Kitty comes in with her map book and we plan our trip after the war.

I hope it ends soon.





Wednesday, 28th August, 1940

What a few days we’ve had! Last Saturday was the Chilbury Ladies’ Choir’s first ever singing concert, and it was a massive success. Venetia’s Mr. Slater arrived back and they had an extraordinary reunion at the concert, which quite added to the spectacle of the whole event. They’ve been virtually inseparable since, although she is going to London next week and he is to go abroad.

Carrington was at the concert, too, and is also being sent to London. He was incredibly happy about it, whispering to me, “It’ll be marvelous to get away from the old man,” which made me laugh.

Another amusing occurrence at the concert was that Lady Worthing was there with her appalling daughter, Lady Constance, who is so terribly bossy she quite competes with Mrs. B., who has her in mind for a daughter-in-law, just because she’s titled, of course. It’s hilarious to think of Henry with her, though. I had a chance to have a short chat with her after the concert.

“I’ve always had a notion that marriage is not unlike getting a new hound,” she said to me, loudly and in an instructional way. “It takes a lot of whipping them into shape before you can get them to do what they’re told.” She slapped her thigh with enthusiasm, and I had to purse my lips to stop myself from hooting with laughter.

I couldn’t wait to tell the Colonel about it when I got home, but he wasn’t there. I assumed he had to work late, but felt the chill of loneliness in the house without him, and my little story quite lost its charm. I decided to give the kitchen a good tidy-up, rather than plodding despondently to bed, and soon found myself sitting at the kitchen table, wondering how much I was going to miss him. By the time he walked through the door at one, I was quite miserable and pathetic.

“What’s all this, then?” he said as he came in. He bent down and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “Have you had bad news?” he said, anxious that I’d received a telegram about David, and I began a new set of tears.

“If I did get a telegram about David, who would be here once you leave?” I sobbed. “It’s just me in this old house now, alone with my thoughts. They’ll kill me, you know. They’ll gang up on my brain and take over, thinking all the worst things and never getting anything done.”

“You’ll be fine,” he said, dragging a chair over and sitting down so that he could put his arm around me. “You’re a strong woman, Mrs. Tilling.”

“But I don’t want to always be the strong one. Who can, in these dreadful times? I’m sick and tired of holding it all in, putting on a brave face, living an inner misery behind a frail smile. It’s simply not going to work anymore.”

We sat in silence for a minute or two, him rubbing my shoulder, and me looking into nowhere, enjoying a last feeling of warmth and comfort from him before he leaves.

“Why don’t you come with me, then?” he said in a perfectly matter-of-fact way, as if he were suggesting a picnic or a day at the beach.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I muttered.

“I don’t see why not. I mean, they’ve found me a nice flat in London, and there’ll be plenty of room. There’s a need for nurses everywhere at the moment, so you’ll find a job up there. It’ll be like a new start. An adventure. We’ll have to get married, of course, but that’ll be easy.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Look at me, Margaret.” He’d never used my name before, and it made me feel strange, like he was talking to the real me, the one inside, not the one who rushes around cheering people up and making things better. “I mean it. I’d love it if you’d marry me. We’ve been living together these past months blissfully, so why leave it there? I love you.”

I was suddenly finding it hard to breathe, so I decided it was about time to tidy up the cupboard under the sink. Making a loud scraping sound as I pushed back the chair, I strode to the sink, got down on my hands and knees, and started to drag everything out.

“Don’t you love me, too?” he demanded, crouching down beside me and helping me take out a rather grubby old metal bucket with several holes.

“Of course I do,” I replied, carefully bringing out an old pot with candles poking out the top. “But we can’t just get married. What about David? He’ll come home and find I’ve gone.”

“He’s a man now, although he’ll always be your boy. He can always come and stay. You can’t just sit here waiting for him to come home.”

“And what about your girls?”

“They’ll adore you. Everyone does.”

I got up to find an old cloth to wipe the shelves inside the cupboard, then knelt back down, proceeding to give it a severely hearty scrubbing down.

“And what about me? My independence? My home, my village? Ivy House?”

“We can come home after the war, if you want.” He took my hands in his, prizing out the old scrubbing cloth and throwing it on the floor. “I don’t want to take over your life. I just want to be part of it. Living together, just like we have been. Two people together, happy.” He took a deep breath, his fingers lacing between mine. “There’s a war on, and everything seems to be getting a lot worse out there. You never know what’s going to happen to any of us. We need to grab any happiness we can while there’s still time.”

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