My Name is Eva(5)

‘Oh, Aunt, really! They’re not kids any more, they’re fully grown adults with important jobs and responsibilities. They can’t take time off work to come and rummage through all your old rubbish. For goodness’ sake, some days I’m sorely tempted to call in house clearance and have done with it. If it wasn’t for the valuables and the family trust, I’d have happily done that straight away.’

Evelyn can see it won’t help matters to let Pat get even more annoyed, so after a few seconds of silence she says, ‘Chicken. I had chicken for lunch today.’

That almost makes Pat smile. ‘Good for you. I’m glad you’re eating well here. You certainly look as if you’re enjoying your food.’

‘I’ve always had a good appetite. Mama always said so. And Mrs Glazier said I had the best appetite of all of us, when we were very young.’

‘Mrs Glazier? She was your mother’s cook or housekeeper, wasn’t she?’ Pat knows that Evelyn can easily be persuaded to talk about the past.

‘Cook mainly, we had Violet to help clean. Mama always said staff were hard to get and keep, but Mrs Glazier was there for years. I loved her steak and kidney pudding and she made delicious apple dumplings. We always had them with custard. Have you ever had an apple dumpling, Pat? Such a treat, I tell you.’

‘No, I haven’t ever had one. And I doubt I ever will now. I don’t think anyone makes that kind of pudding nowadays. It’s all ready-made cheesecakes or packet crumble mix, if anything. Most people don’t have any kind of pudding these days and I certainly don’t need to start eating them.’ She pats her well-padded waist.

‘Oh, we always had a pudding when I was a girl. It wasn’t considered a proper lunch or dinner if there wasn’t a pudding, you know.’ Evelyn pauses, dreaming of puddings past but not forgotten, then says, ‘Have you ever had a Sussex pond pudding, dear? It has a lovely lemon sauce.’

‘No, Aunt.’ Pat sighs. ‘I haven’t had one of those either and I’m really not likely to.’

‘I could ask the cooks here to make one for us, as a treat one day. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? They’re always happy to cater for special requests.’

‘No, no, I haven’t come here to talk about puddings! I need to talk to you about the house and the trust.’

Evelyn knows this, but stares at Pat, then strokes her niece’s hands, as if she means to comfort her. ‘I know, dear. I know and you’ve been very helpful. But I’m not able to get out very much now, you see. I’m sure you’ll make the right decision.’

Pat sighs again, straightens her back and says, ‘Yes, well, I have to, seeing as I have that responsibility.’ She bites her lip for a moment, then says, ‘I don’t want to cause the family any embarrassment. I’m trying to handle everything carefully. It wasn’t so difficult deciding how to deal with the land and the outbuildings, but the house is a different matter entirely. There’s so much personal stuff stored there, I feel I’ve got to check through all of it. And some of it – well, some of it I’m just not sure about. That’s why I’ve been worrying about the keys.’

She stands up, then bends to kiss her aunt goodbye. ‘Oh well, if I have to force the locks, I’ll just have to. Shame though, as that bookcase is worth a fair bit.’

As she turns to go, Danielle appears in her chef’s whites, her clipboard of menus under her arm. She smiles at Pat, who says, ‘I hear the food has been very good again today, but don’t let her twist your arm into making one of her stodgy old-fashioned puddings.’

Danielle smiles again and says, ‘Mrs T-C has a very good appetite for her age. And she certainly likes her fish. She had fish again today.’

Pat’s smile fades as she stares first at Danielle and then at Evelyn, then she says, ‘But you just told me you had chicken for lunch.’

‘No, I didn’t,’ says Evelyn. ‘I had fish. I expect you weren’t listening to me. You never listen to me.’





6





17 April 1940



My dearest darling,

Forgive me if I sound just the teeniest bit cross with you, but it is so very hard to stay cheerful when I haven’t the faintest idea where you are and what you are doing. I really do try not to, but I sometimes begin to imagine the most awfully gruesome scenarios and lie awake half the night, thinking I shall never see you again. I know I must try to be positive, and I do, darling, really I do, and of course I just want this wretched war to be over and for you to return to me in one piece.

I think what has rattled me all the more are the things you told me when we had those two blissful days of leave in Ilfracombe last month. Don’t worry, I’m not going to spell it out in this letter, otherwise the censor will come down hard on you and will score through your letters with even more black pencil than before, but you know you did say how you and some of the other chaps are extremely concerned that a ‘certain person’ is gambling with all your lives. He believes ‘the end justifies the means’ you said, but I simply can’t agree. If that means you are being put at risk unnecessarily (and yes, I do realise that war is a risky business and there will be losses) then I shall never think well of ‘he who cannot be named’. How could I, darling, when my precious husband’s life is in his hands? I just hope you can all talk some sense into him for all our sakes. I know you can’t tell me exactly what you are up to, but my guess is that you and the other chaps are performing some of the riskiest, most highly secret operations in this war.