Snapshots from Home, page 14
Kitty dashed past Edie into the gallery. By the time Edie reached the counter, the girl had disappeared into the curtained portrait studio.
‘Don’t mess up the costumes, Kitty!’ Teddy called after her. ‘Good afternoon, Miss Stark.’
‘Good afternoon. I’d like to have my film developed please, and another bottle of red dye.’
He took the roll of used film and made a note in his book. ‘I hear you’re coming with us to the Ellingtons’ on Friday night.’
‘Mr Ellington was kind enough to invite me.’ Edie eyed him. ‘You’re going, then?’
‘Yes. That surprises you?’
‘I’m a little surprised that you’d deign to mingle with them.’
Teddy’s eyes brightened with amusement. ‘With the hoity-toities up at Oakleigh Manor? Those damned Ellingtons who oppress the workers at the flour mill? They’re a bunch of elites, of course – but I always go because the food’s excellent.’
Edie tried not to laugh; it would only encourage him.
‘Have you been out to Longbottoms’ farm yet?’ he asked.
She shook her head. ‘The red dye, please.’
He went to get the red dye. ‘Kitty, I said not to mess up the costumes,’ she heard him say.
‘I’m not Kitty. I am Diana, the goddess of the moon.’
Teddy returned with Edie’s bottle of dye. ‘You really ought to get out to Longbottoms’.’
‘I’ll find some way. I’ll send a note and find out when they’ll next be in town.’
‘They don’t come into York more than three or four times a year. They go to the Gilgering church.’
‘I’m sure I’ll find some opportunity soon enough.’
‘Miss Stark.’ Teddy’s humour fell away. ‘They’re poor. They’re farm labourers – they don’t have their own land. Their other sons got married and moved away some time ago. Old George needs Aubrey to come home.’
Edie froze. ‘I beg your pardon?’
‘He needs Aubrey to come home to help with the farm.’
‘His name is Aubrey?’
Teddy’s eyebrows pulled together. ‘Yes.’
Private A Longbottom. Here was another Aubrey. Edie was suffused with shame.
‘Mr Macmillan.’ She paused to steady her voice. ‘Would you please oblige me with a ride to Longbottom farm on Saturday?’
His brow cleared. ‘Miss Stark, I would be honoured.’
11
Blackboy Hill is Calling
As a treat, and perhaps because she felt guilty over being a hypocrite about driving with Teddy, Edie coloured two of Kitty’s photos for her: a ginger cat on a doorstep and a snap of the Freemasons’ Hall. Kitty was thrilled.
‘I’ve got my snaps stuck all over my bedroom wall, but these will take pride of place on my bedhead. Mama thinks I have a marvellous talent and wants me to go to Sydney or Melbourne the very minute I’m twenty-one, to snap all the actresses and opera singers as a private portraiteer to the rich and famous!’
Edie could easily imagine this and was struck by the difference between her own circumstances and Kitty’s. Kitty had all the support and encouragement in the world – but she came from a family that stood out, and not always for the right reasons. It was exactly the opposite for Edie. Although she was grateful her father was respectable, Edie couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to have such a permissive parent; the indulgence of a mother to soften her father’s constant disapproval. She envied Kitty for a moment.
On Friday evening, preparations for supper with the Ellingtons left Edie unusually flustered. She wasn’t used to making a fuss over her appearance; her father preferred her neat and demure. However, Mrs Macmillan had sent word that they would call for Edie at six, and until that hour Mrs Mason and Amelia were relentless in their attention to Edie’s hair, dress and accessories. Edie only wanted to be left alone, the knowledge coming over her more heavily every second that she was overdressed for a simple supper at the Ellington home. Primping and preening, came her father’s voice in her head. Pride before a fall.
But Mrs Mason only declared her ready when Edie was immaculate in a crisp cream blouse and her new gleaming chocolate skirt. She’d been tightly corseted and it all conspired to plainly show her figure. Then there was the dusty pink rose-in-bloom hat sitting atop a soft hairstyle with a tail of auburn hair curling down over her shoulder, arranged begrudgingly by Faye. On the other shoulder, Mrs Mason had pinned a pink rose to match the hat. Faye loaned Edie her beaded evening bag and fitted brown coat, and Amelia convinced her that evening shoes were essential.
Edie felt ridiculous. All gussied up like a strumpet, Frederick whispered in her ear.
‘I wish you were coming,’ she said to Amelia and Faye.
Faye agreed but Amelia snorted. ‘I don’t. This book is the most atrocious trash. I can’t wait for you to go out so I can get back to it.’
Teddy stared at her when she answered the door to his knock and Edie’s awkwardness instantly quadrupled. ‘You’re not meeting the King tonight, you know,’ he said.
‘I know that,’ she whispered furiously. ‘I didn’t want all this but Mrs Mason insisted.’ She shut the door and marched past him to the sulky.
‘Miss Stark, you look beautiful!’ Kitty cried.
‘You do look lovely, Edie,’ said Mrs Macmillan, craning her neck to get a better look. ‘Very presentable.’
‘I hope I’m not overdressed,’ said Edie.
‘Not at all, dear girl. The Ellingtons like it when we dress well.’
Mrs Macmillan was in a tan lace gown with an apricot velvet beret, and beneath her mackintosh Kitty had on a spotless white frock with blue sash at the waist. Even Teddy looked neat in grey trousers, with a waistcoat beneath his jacket and a fedora on his head. He kept glancing past his mother at Edie and she resisted the urge to scowl back. I’m only as fine as your mother and sister, you know.
To fit four people in a vehicle built for two, Kitty had to ride on the rear rail of the sulky with galoshes and the oversized raincoat protecting her from the mud. Edie was so squashed on the seat beside Mrs Macmillan she was almost afraid to breathe. The ride to Oakleigh only took ten minutes, but a soft rain had begun so Teddy got them there as quickly as possible while Mrs Macmillan fretted over keeping her beret dry. Kitty chattered in their ears about Miss Amy Ellington’s musical talents, and they were only the tiniest bit damp when they arrived.
Oakleigh was a splendid brick house, its high roof with red turrets outlined against Mount Bakewell, looming in the distance.
‘I love Oakleigh,’ said Kitty. ‘It looks like a palace and the Ellingtons are just like a royal family.’
Teddy’s comment about visiting the King was still ringing in Edie’s ears and when she glanced his way she found him grinning. He dropped them at the door and went to speak to the stablehand about the horse. A maid took Edie and the Macmillans through to the drawing room where the Ellingtons awaited them. Another family had also been invited – Mr and Mrs Watson, who had a lot of land and were influential in the town, and their son Sam. Kitty was shown off to the adults for a minute, then sent to join the Ellington children in the nursery. Miss Anne Ellington claimed Edie and Teddy, ushering them over to the music corner where other young people were seated, talking and laughing.
Anne seemed to be in her early twenties, while her brother Donald – the one who’d been discharged from service on medical grounds – was nearer thirty. Sam Watson seemed much enraptured with Anne. Finally there was Miss Juliana Ellington, known as June, who happened to be celebrating her twenty-first birthday. June was chatty and lively, and paid particular attention to Teddy.
‘Why aren’t you playing in A Princess of Kensington, Teddy?’ she said, pouting. ‘I nearly cried when your mother told me you’d refused to take a part.’
He shook his head. ‘I dare not. I knew I’d be distracted by all the beautiful young ladies. There’s no way anyone could expect me to remember my lines.’
She shrieked with laughter. ‘Anne! Anne, come help me tell Teddy off for being such a cad.’ But Anne was deep in conversation with Mr Watson and ignored her sister. June turned to Edie. ‘Miss Stark – tell him! There aren’t anywhere near enough young men in town for all the male parts in our play. Poor Anne has to play a servant boy, can you fancy it?’ Teddy smiled at Edie and sharp-eyed June caught his look. ‘What’s that smile? What’s the private joke, Teddy?’
He pulled his attention back to June. ‘I was just thinking that Miss Stark isn’t yet as comfortable giving me a good telling off as you.’
‘If she won’t, then I shall stand in as her proxy with gusto,’ said June. ‘But you will do it, won’t you, Miss Stark? You’ll help me show him reason?’
Edie just shook her head. ‘I wouldn’t presume to tell Mr Macmillan what to do and I don’t imagine he’d listen if I did.’
June thought that was hilarious. ‘Oh, my – that’s too true! He’s so terribly contrary. I believe he’s decided not to join in the play just to annoy me.’
‘That’s it exactly,’ said Teddy. ‘Everything I do and say is designed to annoy June Ellington.’
‘Then you succeed very well,’ she shot back. ‘That disgraceful speech you gave on the election day.’ She dropped her voice. ‘Mr Watson spoke of involving the magistrate – did you know?’
Teddy looked unconcerned.
‘But why?’ asked Edie. ‘For what purpose?’
‘To arrest Teddy, of course!’ whispered June. Anne caught the whisper and gave her sister a slight frown.
Edie couldn’t conceal a gasp. ‘Arrest him!’
‘On what charge?’ Teddy asked.
‘I don’t know the legal terms,’ June answered, waving a hand. ‘Sedition, I fancy. Treason, perhaps.’
Now it was Teddy’s turn to laugh. ‘I don’t think I’m going to jail this time.’
‘This time?’ Edie was unsure whether she’d heard right.
He shrugged, smiling again.
‘You’re too much,’ June informed him. ‘Look at him, trying to make us all intrigued. I shall tell her myself, Teddy Macmillan. Miss Stark, this man before you is a dastardly convict.’
Teddy looked injured. ‘I got my ticket of leave.’
She opened her eyes wide. ‘Monster. He was jailed for refusing to register for military training.’ She raised her eyebrows at Edie.
‘You’ve truly been in prison?’ Edie felt sure it must be a joke, but Teddy was watching her, his expression shrewd.
‘When I wouldn’t do military training, they put me in the prison at Blackboy Hill camp. I was roughed up a little, paraded in front of the other men as an example of cowardice, spat on and sworn at, then eventually they let me go.’ He gave another little shrug and sipped his sherry.
Edie couldn’t find the words to reply.
‘He’s exaggerating,’ said June. ‘More likely they had him living in luxury. I have it on good authority—’ June nodded at her brother who was in conversation with the other two ‘—that Blackboy Hill’s prison is not at all like regular prison.’
Teddy raised his eyebrows and said nothing.
‘Why didn’t you just do the training?’ Edie asked. ‘Perhaps it wouldn’t have been what you thought it was. My brother loved it. Even at the front line, he would write to me about the friends he made, the adventures and fun they found …’
Teddy stared. ‘Adventures? Fun? Are you raving, Miss Stark? This is war. It’s death and blood, fear and hunger, sleeplessness that would drive a man insane. There’s no fun. There’s no adventure. Those things – if they exist in war at all – are the human spirit, endeavouring to survive in unendurable circumstances.’
‘Teddy,’ cried June. ‘Leave the poor girl alone. You’re shocking – the things you say.’
The other three were listening now. ‘I say, old chap,’ said Donald. ‘Leave off that. There are ladies present.’
‘Ladies need to know as much as anyone else,’ Teddy responded, not taking his eyes off Edie’s face. ‘How did you find your war service, chaps? Fun?’
Donald grimaced at Edie. ‘I apologise for this dolt.’
Edie hesitated. ‘How did you find it? If you don’t mind my asking.’
Donald glanced at the older adults – but they were all busy comparing lacework, discussing a game of whist and drinking wine. He looked at Sam Watson, who shrugged.
‘I never got there,’ Donald told Edie. ‘I only made it through a month of training before the powers decided my bout with polio as a youngster had left my leg too weak to serve. Sam here saw active service, though.’
‘Were you invalided out?’ Edie asked Sam. ‘I mean, may I ask—?’
Sam didn’t seem to mind. ‘I got shot in the arm in Turkey – an Aussie.’
‘An Aussie?’ Edie repeated, puzzled.
‘If you get an Aussie, it means you’re invalided out and can come home. My arm doesn’t work any more.’ He looked down at his left arm, which Edie now realised had been hanging inert since she met him. He raised his eyes to hers. ‘You want to know what it was really like?’
Edie felt dreadful. ‘No – not, I mean – I’m sorry. I don’t wish to stir up bad memories.’
‘No need. Some lads can’t talk about it. I can.’ Sam glanced at Anne, who sat watching him with sympathy. ‘It was pure hell, to be blunt. If we weren’t digging trenches or sitting in them waiting, we were dodging bullets and shells. Ted’s right about the hunger and the sleep – or lack of it. Dysentery. Good lord – the diseases and sickness. The smell of rotten or burned flesh. The scream of an injured horse.’ He paused, seeming to struggle to find his next words. ‘But the worst thing – the worst thing is the way it changes a man. I saw some of them do things I didn’t think any civilised man would do. It’s if the rules were different out there – the rules about decency and humanity. And all that death. I got so I almost didn’t mind if a friend died. I could brush it off, not think about it. Just carry on with things.’ He stopped and shook his head. ‘I must tell you, Miss Stark, I’m thankful every day to that Turk who shot me in the arm. I’ve got it better than most of the poor devils who are still out there.’
Edie had tears in her eyes, partly for Sam but mostly – selfishly – for her brother. Aubrey had been so doggedly cheery in his letters and postcards. Even Bill kept things light when he wrote. He showed interest in her photographs and science lessons as if he was not living in the most bleak, awful conditions any human could bear. They made the best of it to protect her, she realised – Aubrey and Bill. They were doing her a kindness. She kept her eyes down, wishing the tears away. Teddy offered her a handkerchief, looking penitent, but Edie turned away, pretending not to see it.
‘Look what you’ve done, Teddy – Sam,’ scolded June. ‘You’ve upset her. And it’s my birthday and you’re ruining the party!’
‘I’m sorry, Miss Ellington,’ said Sam. ‘Forgive me.’
‘Me, too, June,’ offered Donald. ‘And Miss Stark. Not a word more about the war, I promise.’
Teddy said nothing.
‘I tell you what,’ said Sam, putting cheer into his voice. ‘After supper, let’s have some music and take a hop around the room together. What do you say, Miss Anne – will you dance with a limp-armed ruffian like me?’
‘With pleasure.’ Anne was smiling.
Donald snapped his fingers. ‘Capital idea. And I’ll dance the morbs out of Miss Stark, if she doesn’t mind partnering with a bloke chucked out of the army for his bandy leg – and Teddy, you’ll dance with June, since you started all this.’
‘I will,’ said Teddy.
Edie wrestled herself into a state of calm and turned back to the group; they seemed to be waiting for her. ‘Are you men anti-war, then – like Mr Macmillan?’
Sam chuckled and Donald looked amazed. ‘Good Lord, no. This war couldn’t be helped.’
‘You think it’s a necessary sacrifice?’
‘Of course,’ said Sam. ‘When one’s King and country call, one must answer.’
‘And you wouldn’t stay home, if you could go back and have your time again?’
Sam shook his head. ‘Not a jot of it. It was my duty.’
Donald was nodding.
‘You’re very brave,’ she told them. She could almost hear Teddy thinking, Dupes. Tricked into the sacrifice of life and limb. She refused to look at him.
The evening meal was announced and the two groups of adults – younger and older – were reunited by Mrs Ellington’s seating plan. It was a hearty spread, with mulligatawny soup, joint of meat, baked potatoes and turnips, rabbit pie and cheese. Mrs Ellington had placed Edie beside her, and Donald was seated on her other side. Across the table Mr Watson was crowing about the victory at Messines, where around ten thousand Germans had been killed in a mine detonation just days earlier. He ignored Teddy’s remark that a vast number of Anzac troops were said to have been lost in the same battle, speaking over the top of him about the advances at the Somme. During the courses Mrs Ellington dedicated to her, Edie heard all about a new Metters gas stove that had been ordered for the Ellington home. It was called a ‘Kooka’ – a pun Mrs Ellington thought was of the highest order – and had to come from Adelaide, so they didn’t expect it to arrive for several months.
‘It has a top fire you can turn up or down to make it stronger,’ she said, her eyes wide. ‘It will be so easy to cook a custard or coddle an egg – I can hardly imagine!’
‘I can hardly imagine a time when Mum’ll stop talking about it,’ Donald murmured on her other side, making Edie choke on a laugh.
At last it was fruit, nuts and sweets. Edie felt fuller than she remembered being in a long time – it was as good as a Christmas banquet. She wondered if the men would retire to the smoking room after supper, but the Ellingtons didn’t bother with this old-fashioned custom. Donald was already calling to Anne to play them a song as they all traipsed back to the drawing room. A curtain was pulled back to reveal a pianoforte and Anne sat down to play while the elders set up card tables at the other end of the room near the fire.
