The Victory Garden(10)

“Mummy, look who has just arrived,” she called.

Mrs Bryce had clearly been hovering. “Clarissa, my dear, what a surprise,” she said. “Don’t you look important in that uniform. But why didn’t you tell us you were coming? We haven’t made up the spare bedroom. I’ll have to get Florrie on to it right away.”

“Oh, don’t worry about me, Mrs Bryce,” Clarissa said as she shook her hand. “I’m used to sleeping anywhere these days. I’ve even slept on an operating table when it wasn’t being used.”

“Good heavens. I heard of some of your adventures from Emily. They sound quite harrowing. Your poor parents. They must be worried sick.”

“Actually, I believe they are quite proud of me,” Clarissa said. “Daddy is a doctor, after all. He’s glad I’m following in his footsteps.”

“But you won’t do this sort of thing when the war ends, surely?”

“I might. I’m quite good at it. And I can’t picture myself just sitting at home and doing embroidery after this.”

“You mean working? Holding a job?”

“I think quite a lot of women will be holding a job after the war ends, Mrs Bryce. We’ve lost so many men. Women will have to fill all manner of jobs.”

Mrs Bryce laughed uneasily. “You see women as bricklayers and steeplejacks, do you, Clarissa?”

“If necessary. If the country is to get up and running again.”

Mrs Bryce shook her head as if trying to digest this. She walked across the hall and rang a bell. Florrie appeared. “Florrie, Miss Hamilton has arrived. Can you see that a room is made up for her?”

“Yes, Mrs Bryce,” Florrie said. “Do you want me to finish putting out the spoons for the ice creams first?”

“Don’t worry, Mummy. Clarissa and I will take care of it. I can make a bed, you know,” Emily said.

“But you should think about getting ready. And poor Clarissa is no doubt hungry. We shall not be eating until after nine. Why don’t you take her down to the kitchen and see if Cook can find something for her?”

“We’ll take her bag up to my room first,” Emily said, and started up the stairs. Once in the room, she sank on to the bed. “Goodness, but I shall be glad when this is all over,” she said. “As you can probably see, Mummy has turned this into a big production number—all the stops pulled out. It’s a wonder she hasn’t brought down the London Symphony Orchestra to play.”

Clarissa sat beside her. “So do tell. Any nice chaps coming?”

“Maybe.” Emily gave an excited little smile. “We’ve invited some of the officers from the convalescent home. And one of them will be my Australian. So hands off him.”

Clarissa gave her a long hard look. “Are you really smitten? Is that wise? Won’t he go home to Australia after the war?”

“Yes, he plans to.”

“And would you want to go with him?”

“I don’t know. He hasn’t asked me yet. In fact, he’s said several times that it’s no place for a woman. Where he lives sounds a bit grim, but he has lots of bold ideas about making life better there. It would be a challenge—something I’m itching for at this minute.” She lay back and sighed. “I can’t tell you how awfully boring and frustrating it’s been here. Every attempt to do something useful has been thwarted. My parents simply won’t let me out of their sight. It feels as if my life has been put on hold all this time. You know how we talked at school about travelling, seeing Europe, doing something exciting. And you have, although not in the way you planned. And I’ve done nothing whatsoever. So now that I’m twenty-one, I finally mean to play my part, and they can’t stop me.”

“You plan to join the Voluntary Aid Detachment, do you? Become a volunteer nurse like me?”

“I’ve been thinking about it. I’m rather scared about doing what you do—seeing the blood and all that death, but if you can do it, so can I.” She hesitated. “But I don’t think I should go out to France. My mother couldn’t handle that.”

“My mother does,” Clarissa said. “In fact, she’s jolly proud of me.”

“Yes, well, your mother didn’t lose her only son, did she? They worshipped Freddie. They thought the sun shone out of his head. I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, because they don’t want anyone to know, but my mother had a mental breakdown after he died. She was in a sanatorium for three months. And since then, she’s . . . well, she’s cold and hard, as if she never wants to feel anything again.”

“I’m sorry, Emmy,” Clarissa said. “But they certainly need nurses here at home, too. Let me know when you’re ready and I can put you in touch with the right people. Now, I suppose we’d better get cracking if you are to be looking your best when your guests arrive.”

Emily jumped up and went across to the wardrobe. “So this is the dress I’m not wearing tonight,” she said, and held up a shimmering pink gown.

“But it’s lovely,” Clarissa said. “Why don’t you want it?”

“I like the other one better.” Emily produced a royal blue dress in the Grecian style. “I think it’s not so little-girly, and the royal blue suits my colouring better. The pink will show off your dark hair perfectly. In fact, you’ll have the officers swarming around you like bees around the honey pot.”