The Chilbury Ladies' Choir(90)
I let my heavy body fall back into the pillow, like a body launching off a great cliff and hurtling down toward a rocky sea.
My only plan is to disappear the moment my hip is mended and they let me out of hospital. I’ll have to go to Chilbury first and try to get my money back from Ralph Gibbs. I know it won’t be easy, but I have my ways, Clara, and I’m desperate enough to bargain for half the way things stand. Then I can make my way to Birnham Wood and meet you there. It doesn’t fill my heart with joy, but all I’m asking is simply to stay alive. Lord, I’m livid that I got into this mess. I wish I’d had nothing to do with it.
Pray for me, Clara, that I might come out of this in one blooming piece.
Edwina
AIR BASE 9463, DAWS HILL, BUCKINGHAMSHIRE.
Monday, 12th August, 1940
My dear girl,
How terribly surprised I was to receive your letter, both for its actuality and, more strikingly, for its content. Please allow me to unburden you of any misapprehension you may have about my feelings toward you and the nature of our relationship.
Firstly, the “beautiful afternoon together” of which you speak is merely that, one beautiful afternoon. There was no intention on my part for it to lead to more beautiful afternoons. In fact, that was quite its beauty: that it was a single escape from the bounds of reality. Any references I might have made to your change of occupation were concerned with the growing need for women to join the war effort. Would it not be more correct for you to train as a nurse or join the forces instead of wasting your energies as a civilian parlor maid?
Secondly, it will consequently not be necessary to contact my mother, and I must tell you that should you choose to ignore my warning, her wrath will be overbearing, and your livelihood in the area will be at stake.
I wish you well in your new career.
Yours, &c.
Flt. Lt. Brampton-Boyd
CHILBURY MANOR,
CHILBURY,
KENT.
Monday, 12th August, 1940
Dear Angela,
Isn’t it strange that momentous things happen—catastrophe, sickness, death—and then a week or two later it seems that everything has gone back to normal. I went back to work today, catching the 7:40 bus to Litchfield and walking past the telephone box on the corner, the same faces, the same clouds settling above us. I headed for our old office. Elizabeth was there making tea and gave me the chipped cup as usual. I sat down at my desk and went through the new papers. I’ve only been away for a few weeks, yet it feels like eternity. No, actually it feels like I’m just a whole different person. The old Venetia left and now a new person has come who looks like Venetia, and remembers how to do Venetia’s job, but she isn’t the same person at all.
No one knows what happened, except for Colonel Mallard, who came and asked how I was doing in rather a lovely way. They know about me saving the baby, as that was in the papers. But they don’t know about me losing a different baby. I shudder every time a new person comes in to congratulate me. “Well done about the baby!” they say, or “You must want one of your own now!” I know they mean to be good-humored, but I have become quite annoyed at having to rush to the ladies’ every few minutes to check my mascara.
After work, Colonel Mallard gave me a lift to Chilbury, and I popped in to say hello to Mrs. Tilling and baby Rose. She’s such a cuddly baby, all plump and giggly. I sometimes get to feed her, too.
“I want to help look after her—it’s what I owe to Hattie,” I said, as I rocked her on my lap.
“Yes, I can understand that,” Mrs. Tilling said, smiling, and I found myself blushing at the selfish, snippy person I used to be—especially to Hattie.
“Perhaps I could have been a nicer friend to Hattie, but at least now I can help her child.”
“Well, you’ll have more of a chance, as your Mama has agreed to take her until Victor returns. So she’ll be living with you at Chilbury Manor.”
I beamed with joy, and held her especially tight. But then I remembered. “What about Daddy?”
“It’s all right, Venetia. You have nothing to worry about from him anymore.”
I remembered what Kitty said about Mrs. Tilling knowing something. How incredibly useful!
Overjoyed, I hugged Rose tightly. She is to come with her belongings on Friday, and I’ll be able to feed her every night.
Chilbury Manor remains terribly quiet for now. Kitty has been excruciatingly apologetic and really quite sweet. Daddy has been exceptionally absent and has thrown himself wholeheartedly into defending Chilbury from the Nazis. He has the Chilbury Defense Volunteers meet every other day to exert his authority. We’re incredibly relieved he’s found another focus for his energies.
Mama ordered me to rest as soon as I got home from work, realizing at last that she can leave baby Lawrence with Nanny and he’ll be just fine. After dinner, Kitty and Silvie decided to bring the gramophone into my bedroom to cheer us all up. We listened to the records Prim lent to Kitty before the bomb. She tried to give them back to Prim’s sisters when they came to collect her belongings—what was left of them. But they insisted that we keep them and enjoy them as much as we could in honor of Prim.
It was a cozy little evening, the four of us sitting around the player flipping through the records—there must be over forty of them, many of them from America. Mama brought up some tea and I had some biscuits from work, so we had a small party.