Snapshots from Home, page 12
‘Or an ugly baby?’
‘Yes, exactly. But you’re not to make up elaborate stories because you don’t like the truth.’
Kitty sat beside her. ‘That seems fair. I accept. What’s your story?’
‘All right. Here’s my story.’ Edie leaned back on her hands and stared at the reflection of the lamp in the dark window. ‘My father is a kindly, thoughtful man who wishes his daughter to have the best education and opportunities in the world. He doesn’t expect her to marry, but if she wishes to, he will respect her choice of husband. He encourages her to keep and spend the money she’s earned through her own hard work. He thinks she’s smart and a valuable part of the household. He keeps the home warm and comfortable so that visitors always feel welcome. He listens when people have different opinions and considers them carefully before making his reply. He likes people for how they behave, rather than what they own or their family name. He is generous and loving.’
Kitty was silent for some time. ‘I’m sorry that’s just a story,’ she said at last.
‘Thank you, Kitty. Do you think you can come downstairs now?’
She thought about it. ‘Mama will ask me a lot of questions about being sick and I may have to lie again. Perhaps I will just stay here now, and in the morning I can tell her I feel much better, which is the truth, even if it’s in my heart and not my stomach.’
Edie kissed the top of her head. ‘Good idea. Well, eat up your supper and I’ll see you at school on Monday.’
9
Something for Evenings Out
Mrs Macmillan wouldn’t hear of Edie walking home by herself. ‘We have a horse and sulky. Teddy will take you.’
‘I’m not permitted to drive out with young men,’ Edie said immediately.
‘Oh, but you’re not driving out with him. He’s just driving you home. It’s completely different.’
‘I’m quite all right to make my own way. The moon’s full tonight – there’s plenty of light.’
‘My dear girl, I won’t allow it. There are outlaws and rascals out there. Teddy, fetch the sulky.’
Teddy went to organise the sulky and Mrs Macmillan loaded Edie up with a blanket, some pink silk she had ‘absolutely no use for’ and a bag of early oranges for Mrs Mason to share with the boarding-house girls. She wrapped herself up in a shawl and came out to watch as Teddy helped Edie up into the sulky seat beside him. Mrs Macmillan called out her goodbyes and Edie waved to Kitty, who was still at her window.
Teddy drove them along the road towards Mount Brown before turning east and heading for the traffic bridge over the river. The night was still, cold and dark and the horse snorted a puff of steam into the air. Edie grew more and more conscious of the man close beside her on the small sulky seat – the warmth of his body and smell of his leather driving gloves; the citrus scent on his breath from their fruit dessert.
‘Did you—?’ she blurted, but he started talking at the same moment.
‘Have you—? Oh, excuse me, go ahead.’
‘No, no – that’s fine.’
‘I was wondering if you’d settled things with my sister?’
‘Yes, Kitty and I had a good chat.’
‘Thank you. I was starting to think she’d never show her face in town again for fear of running into you. I thought I’d better engineer a supper so you could have a reunion and forgive her.’
Edie swung around to stare at him. ‘You organised for me to come for supper? That was too much trouble for your mother, sir. I could have simply visited one afternoon to speak to Kitty.’
He shrugged, keeping his eyes forward. ‘Mum loves getting dressed up and putting on a spread.’
The man made her want to grind her teeth. ‘I’d prefer not to be invited where I’m not truly wanted.’
‘Don’t worry about that. My mother’s as enamoured with you as Kitty is.’
They drove without speaking for a few minutes more. Edie was more annoyed than flustered now and her thoughts turned to what he’d said before supper. The Kaiser’s a puppet. This war’s been in planning for a long, long time.
‘What did you mean earlier, when you said the war was planned?’
Teddy glanced at her. ‘Germany wants to break up the alliance between Britain, Russia and France. Britain wants to hold onto its empire. That’s what really started this war.’
‘What?’ She gripped the edge of the seat. ‘That’s not it at all! It was what happened in the Balkans – the assassination of the Archduke – Germany invading Belgium—’
‘Britain and Germany have been swaggering around, consumed with their power, for far longer than you or I have been alive. Germany’s wanted to take France for decades; it just needed an excuse. It can’t rise as the world’s leader while the Entente alliance is in place. And Britain’s not about to let Germany break its stronghold.’ Teddy sighed, and he sounded genuinely weary. ‘It’s just rich men who want more, cloaking their true motives in the language of freedom. This war’s always been about money and power.’
Edie was on shaky ground. It sounded as if Teddy knew things she didn’t. She’d occasionally heard her father and Aubrey talking about Germany’s intentions towards France and the Entente – whatever that was. But it was hard to follow unless you were reading the newspapers and privy to men’s intellectual discussions at the Mechanics’ Institute – which Aubrey had been and Edie most certainly had not. Her understanding of the politics of war came from newspaper headlines shouted by boys on street corners, conversations overheard in shops, and newsreels they played at the beginning of picture shows. She sat in silence, a soft rain sprinkling through the cool night air. Could she trust Teddy’s information?
‘Have you finished taking all the snaps requested by our boys?’ He seemed oblivious to her turmoil.
‘Um, yes – for now. There’s one I couldn’t do.’
‘Couldn’t or wouldn’t?’
‘Couldn’t. Why wouldn’t I want to take someone’s photos?’
He shrugged. ‘You might not want to visit a particular house or type of person.’
Her indignation reared up. ‘There’s nothing that would stop me from visiting if it were possible. As it happens, this farm is fifteen miles out of town, so it’s not possible for me to go at this time.’
‘Whose farm is it?’
‘Private A Longbottom is the name.’
He was quiet for a few moments. ‘I was friendly with Longbottom as a boy. He’s a good chap.’
In the pause that followed, Edie’s antipathy towards Teddy Macmillan faded a little. He might be a political zealot, but he’d lost friends to the war like everyone else. Perhaps she should make allowances for him. Maybe the grief of losing childhood chums had affected—
‘Good but naïve,’ Teddy said with a sigh. ‘He’s bound to get himself killed.’
Edie’s outrage was back in a heartbeat. ‘That’s a terrible thing to say. Would you say that to his father? His sister?’
‘Of course not.’
‘Then you shouldn’t say it at all.’
‘That’s an unsound argument, Miss Stark. If we could only say things about people that we would say to their faces, or their loved ones’ faces, no one would ever say anything.’
‘Only the people who say unkind things would have nothing to say. And quite frankly, I don’t think that would be any great loss.’
She expected to render him speechless with this cutting remark, but Teddy replied immediately. ‘The world goes around on conversations about people– kind or otherwise – especially in country towns like this. How would people learn from others’ mistakes if they weren’t the topic of eager conversation at Red Cross meetings or outside Mrs Thielemann’s shop? Gossip is essential.’ Edie maintained an icy silence but Teddy seemed to warm to his topic. ‘Take the peace cause, for example. It grows through people spreading the word. This war – the chaos, the death of civilisation and hope – has happened because a group of powerful men living lives of luxury have decided it should, rather than any of them suffer the slightest blow to his pride. It’s our duty to tell the truth, even if it involves a little uncharitable talk about the King and the Kaiser and little Billy Hughes.’
Edie said nothing.
‘Miss Stark?’
‘I think you and I have very different ways of looking at things, Mr Macmillan.’
This time, he did go quiet.
They rode without speaking the rest of the distance to Mrs Mason’s, and when Teddy came to a stop on the empty street, Edie folded Mrs Macmillan’s blanket, gathered the basket of oranges and her belongings, and climbed out.
‘I appreciate the ride home. Please give your mother my thanks.’ She turned and let herself through Mrs Mason’s gate.
‘Miss Stark!’
Edie stopped at the front door, composed herself, and turned. ‘Yes, sir?’
The moonlight was behind him so she couldn’t see his expression. ‘If you need to get to Longbottoms’, I can drive you. Just let Kitty or my mother know and I’ll be at your service.’
He shook the reins and the horse walked on.
YMCA Headquarters
Hay Street, Perth
20th May 1917
Dear Miss Stark,
I have received your photographs and extend my sincere gratitude on behalf of the men at the front. The colourising is excellent and will be a welcome surprise for the soldiers.
I enclose four additional request cards that have come in since my last correspondence and wish to advise that word has been sent to our counterparts in Britain, France, Cairo, Turkey and other locations that we have a League photographer in York, so you can expect more cards to arrive for you in the coming months.
The account at Macmillan’s gallery has now been settled.
Yours sincerely,
Harold C Entwhistle
The package had arrived at the school – the address Florence had given the YMCA – despite Edie’s request that they change their records. It was pure luck she intercepted it before Miss Raison noticed. Edie shuffled through the cards.
‘More customers for us?’
Edie looked up. ‘You’re still here, Kitty? All the other girls have gone home.’
‘I have a message for you. But first, let’s see what requests have come in.’
Edie read the cards. Private Maximilian Lombard had requested snaps of his grandparents, cousins and younger siblings at the family home. He emphasised that if there was any cost to his family, he’d rather not have the pictures at all. Private Charles Burne wanted pictures of the family and his cows. Corporal Kenneth Lineman wanted a picture of his friend Miss Philippa Kemp. Able Seaman Reginald Hassell had asked for photos of his parents and their summer garden.
‘Summer garden?’ she murmured, showing Kitty. ‘I wonder how long ago he wrote this card. I’m afraid he’ll have to make do with his almost-winter garden instead.’
‘I can draw him a picture of some dahlias and sunflowers,’ Kitty suggested. ‘Mama bought me some coloured pencils in Perth last year.’
‘I shall certainly send that off with the photos for him. Where will we find these addresses, Kitty?’
Kitty perused the cards. ‘Three of these are in town. The Lombards are our maidservant Maria’s family.’
‘Oh, does she have a father or brother enlisted?’
‘Yes, her brother, and her sister’s a VAD. The Lombards live on the other side of the railway track. It’s only the Burnes who live some distance away. Look at Corporal Lineman’s card, Miss Stark – it says Corporal Kenneth Lineman of Melbourne. He’s not even from York.’ She read it over again. ‘I wonder how he became friends with Miss Kemp? The Kemps come from Kellerberrin, but they moved their printing press to York last year when the two newspapers got joined together. I would understand if the corporal said she was his cousin or niece, but friend? How would Miss Kemp know Corporal Lineman of Melbourne?’
Edie knew what the euphemism ‘friend’ meant between a man and a woman. ‘He could be a friend of the family. Plenty of people know folk from other parts. Doesn’t your mother correspond with her theatre friends from Adelaide?’
‘Not really,’ said Kitty. ‘She says letter writing is a terrible bore and why would she want to hear about all the fun and success they are having when she is perfectly happy imagining them starving in a gutter.’ Edie choked on a laugh. ‘Anyway,’ Kitty went on. ‘I just spoke to Teddy and he wants to remind you that he will drive us to Longbottoms’ farm. I dare say he’ll be happy enough to drive us to the Burnes’ farm, too.’
‘Please thank him, but there’s no need.’
Kitty looked up at Edie, her little face worried. ‘Because Teddy is so shocking?’
‘Pardon?’
‘You don’t want to drive with Teddy because he’s got politics.’ She said the word as if it was a disease.
‘No, that’s not it.’
But it was. She was a hypocrite. She’d told Kitty being respectable was not about who she associated with, but about staying true to her own beliefs. Now here she was, worried what people would think of her for mixing with Teddy Macmillan. She was as bad as her father – the way he snubbed people he considered beneath him. And she was lying, too. A liar will not be believed, even when he speaks the truth was her father’s favourite threat. Aesop, or something.
‘The Longbottoms may be able to meet me in town,’ she said, feeling ugly.
Kitty didn’t seem convinced. Edie sent her home and headed back to Mrs Mason’s. There, she wrote messages to her next lot of snapshot subjects to arrange appointments. She was waylaid by Mrs Mason as she went downstairs to put them in the post.
‘I was just saying to the girls, that pink stuff from Mrs Macmillan is perfect for a hat. Have you seen the rose-in-bloom design? So pretty. I’ll make you one, and there’ll be enough left for me to make myself a blouse for going out, as well.’
‘Please don’t trouble yourself, Mrs Mason,’ said Edie. ‘I gave it to you for yourself – not so you’d make me something.’
‘But you’ve got just the right face for a rose-in-bloom hat,’ Mrs Mason argued. ‘And it would go very well with a brown silk skirt, if you were to spend a little on yourself and buy the brown silk.’
‘The tea-gown you made is more than enough for me to make a respectable showing at the society events of York,’ Edie said with a grin.
Mrs Mason disagreed. ‘They’ve got a few new gown-pieces in at Mongers – you ought to go and have a look while you’re putting your letters in the post. Then you’d have something for church and evenings out.’
Faye and Amelia were enlisted to convince Edie this was her only rational course of action. They declared it essential and even offered to go with her to Monger’s. Edie resisted for as long as possible – but it would be nice to have a decent evening skirt rather than just her day skirts, so she finally gave in. They set off together, hatching the scheme of stopping at the Regal Tea Rooms on the way.
It was a clear day – no rain and a light breeze that made the gum leaves shimmer in the sunshine. They posted their mail, then stepped into the refreshment rooms, where you could pick up a pair of knitting needles, wool and a grey sock pattern as you walked in and do some good for the war effort while you drank your tea.
‘It’s penance for indulging in the forbidden nectar,’ Amelia said.
Jane Harris and her sister were there and they waved at Edie, beckoning her to their table. ‘Let Kath and me buy you a cuppa for your kindness in taking our snaps,’ Jane urged, shaking Edie heartily by the hand.
‘Yes, do!’ said Kath. ‘Bring your schoolteacher friends to sit with us.’
Edie went back to Amelia and Faye, who were on their way to a table on the other side of the room. ‘Girls, come and sit with me and the Miss Harrises. They’re very nice young ladies.’
‘I know who they are. Farm girls.’ Faye was unimpressed but Amelia chuckled and tugged her by the arm to join the Harris table.
Once she’d been fortified by a cup of tea and they were all knitting grey socks together, Faye thawed a little. She even got into a conversation with Kath Harris about a style of boot available at Dinsdale’s Shoe Emporium next door. When Norma Jinks, a young lady renowned for her snootiness, raised her eyebrows to see them sitting with the Harris girls, Faye was barely even embarrassed.
But they couldn’t stay for long if they were to get to Monger’s before closing time, and soon Amelia hustled Edie and Faye to their feet. They hurried by the red-brick fire station and down past the old sandalwood yards to the handsome stonework store. The Macmillans’ maidservant, Maria, had just come out of Monger’s, a bulging shopping bag over her arm, most likely filled with items for the Macmillan pantry. Edie greeted her, asking her how she did.
‘I’m well, thank you, miss,’ Maria answered, but she still looked churlish.
‘Edie, she’s a housemaid,’ Faye murmured when Maria had walked on. ‘Didn’t you know?’
‘Yes, Faye, I know. I’ve met her at Mrs Macmillan’s house.’
Faye glanced back at the girl. ‘She’s Italian, too. Her mother’s as Italian as they come.’
Amelia laughed. ‘She can’t help being Italian.’
‘I’m surprised the family hasn’t been interned.’
‘Faye, the Italians are on our side.’
Faye gave her signature sniff. ‘Anyway, she works for the Macmillans, and that’s bad enough. Kitty’s mother stopped me in the street the other day and tried to talk me into being in her play, would you believe it? And not even the main part.’
The great Monger’s Store sold everything from horseshoe nails to wedding lace. It was busy with women and men from York and further afield. Edie said hello to the father of a girl from school and to the severe Mrs Kingston, mother of the corporal who was in love with Gertie-not-yet-thirty. Mrs Macmillan was there too, deep in conversation with Mr Monger about the chance of his getting in some absinthe, assuring him it was for medicinal purposes. His young assistant finished with her customer and came to help Edie’s group, and before they knew it, there was a rainbow array of silk gown-pieces gleaming for their pleasure. Edie selected the pattern for a chocolate skirt that would go nicely with the dusty pink silk from Mrs Macmillan.
