Women of Courage, page 3
They locked up the church together and walked the short distance up the hill to the vicarage. As they turned into the path, they saw about twenty people standing by the front door. There was no reason to ask why they were there; everyone would want to hear the wireless broadcast. Richard unlocked the door and the solemn group headed into the lounge. Richard sat in his favourite chair by the hearth whilst everyone else piled in and found somewhere to stand or sit. Grace turned the wireless on, and after a moment or two of tuning in, the melodic sound of the Glenn Miller Orchestra filled the room. Grace sat herself on the floor by her father’s chair.
There was no chatter as they waited until 11:15 am, when it was announced that Neville Chamberlain would be speaking to the country from 10 Downing Street. Grace closed her eyes. Please God, let it be good news.
‘This morning the British Ambassador in Berlin handed the German Government a final Note stating that, unless we heard from them by 11 o'clock that they were prepared at once to withdraw their troops from Poland, a state of war would exist between us.’
Grace’s heart was beating so fast she thought she was going to faint. As if knowing she needed him, Richard dropped his hand onto her shoulder and gently squeezed it.
‘I have to tell you now that no such undertaking has been received, and that consequently this country is at war with Germany.’
The whole room gasped, and Grace dropped her head as tears came. She knew she should be listening to what the Prime Minister had to say, but when she finally got control back he was on his last sentence.
‘Now may God bless you all. May He defend the right. It is the evil things that we shall be fighting against - brute force, bad faith, injustice, oppression and persecution - and against them I am certain that the right will prevail.’
‘I never thought I would ever see a war again,’ sobbed Mrs. Thackeray, ‘’tis dreadful, absolutely dreadful.’
Not knowing what else to do, and with it being obvious that no one was about to leave, Grace went into the kitchen to make tea for everyone.
The whistling of the kettle brought Mrs. Thackeray bustling into the kitchen, giving a last sniff before stuffing her handkerchief into her pocket. ‘Have you got the teapot heating up, ducky? Ruins a tea it does, if you pop the water into a cold pot. Ah, I see you have the tray and cups ready. Good girl. Don’t suppose you have any cake to go with the tea, do you? You know how good food is for calming everyone down.’
Grace smiled to herself as she went into the larder and came back out with a large, round tin. It didn’t matter how old she was, she would always be the vicar’s little girl.
‘Happen to have made a sultana and almond cake, yesterday. I’m sure if we slice it thinly it will go around just nicely.’
‘I’ll do that for you, lovely. You take the first tray of cups through, I’m sure everyone is longing for a good cuppa after that awful news.’
‘I tell you, if there was any way Chamberlain could have prevented this war, he would have done. You can hear in his voice that the thought of young men dying sickens him just as much as it does us,’ her father said, leaning forward and tapping his pipe against the fireplace to empty it, before sitting back down.
‘That’s true, Richard. We all feel the same. To be honest, it doesn’t feel so long ago that we were celebrating the end of the Great War, and to be entering into another war now, so soon... well it doesn’t bear thinking about. Having said that, I for one do not want to sit by and do nothing while some dictating, completely crackers despot sweeps across Europe in some narcissistic way,’ responded Fred.
Grace put the tray gently down on the table, and then left to fetch the pot of tea. As she went, there were murmurs of agreement from most of the people in the room in answer to Fred’s statement.
‘Yes, but surely peace talks would be the best option,’ replied Richard.
Grace halted in the doorway and turned around. ‘Not for those who have been oppressed by the tyrant. It is too late for the people who have died by his orders, and for those who are still suffering under Herr Hitler’s rule. I am so worked up inside over the injustice of it all, that I would happily sign up and go to war myself.’
‘Less theatrics please, Grace,’ said Richard, stuffing his pipe with fresh tobacco.
Grace loved her father very much, but just then she could have happily shaken him for his dismissiveness. She turned around before the desire worked its way out of her, and headed back to the kitchen.
Mrs. Thackeray had finished slicing the cake so they returned to the lounge with cake and tea.
‘Cup of tea, everyone?’ said Mrs. Thackeray, pouring tea into the first cup. Slices of cake on tiny, delicate, flower-patterned china plates were passed around the room.
‘I always said they made that Treaty of Versailles too harsh and it would come back and bite us on the backside,’ said Mrs. Tigins, before sipping her tea.
‘Tasty cake,’ William whispered behind Grace’s shoulder.
She turned around, her eyes sparkling with pleasure at his compliment. ‘It’s the ground almonds, they keep the cake moist.’
‘I need to talk with you, Grace. Come on outside with me for a moment.’
Grace nodded and put her cup down on the table.
As soon as they left the house, he took Grace’s hand tightly as they walked down to the cemetery. They meandered through the graves and went to their favourite bench that looked across at Newton Brook. For a while, they sat in silence, William absentmindedly stroking Grace’s hand. Grace felt uncomfortable as she imagined all the worst possible things he could be about to say. William had mentioned several times that the army posters kept pulling his attention.
The autumnal sun sprinkled them with warmth and bounced off the gold and brown leaves still clinging onto the branches in a vain attempt to retain the last vestige of summer; this was Grace’s favourite time of year. The water gurgled and splashed over the rocks in the brook, and sparrows and blue-tits tweeted melodically.
Finally, William shifted slightly on the bench so he could look at her. He was shaking. ‘I love you, Grace. Will you marry me?’
Grace was completely shocked, that wasn’t what she thought he was going to say. She stared at him, horrified, as he opened a small red box and offered her a ring. With shaking hands and an extremely puzzled heart, Grace lifted up the ring to look at it, emotions running riot over her face. It was a small gold band, with a square face holding a small round sapphire.
‘I don’t understand,’ she finally said.
‘Don’t you want to marry me, Grace? I thought you loved me?’
‘I do. I have loved you for years, you’re my best friend.’
‘Then please marry me, Grace.’
‘But... but... you don’t like women that way.’
William let go of Grace’s hand and dropped his head. ‘How do you know?’
Grace took hold of William’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. ‘I saw you looking at Simon one day, a couple of years back now, and in that moment I just knew that you loved him.’
William looked up at her, tears pooling in his eyes. ‘You never said anything?’
‘What was there to say? I dreamt for a long time that you would ask me to marry you, I must admit. I used to spend hours torturing myself as to which of the horrible things about me kept you from falling in love with me. I mostly decided it was because I am a right plain-Jane and a religious nut to boot. Somehow, realizing that you never fell in love with me, because you had a preference that lay in another direction, well that kind of made it easier for me.’
‘You don’t have anything horrible about you, you are a wonderful, kind and caring person and I really do love you.’
‘Yes, I know, just not in the way that a married couple should like each other. So...’ Grace lifted up the ring and tilted it towards him. ‘What’s all this about then, Mr. Shelby?’
‘Don’t hate me, Grace.’
‘I could never hate you, William.’ She squeezed his hand tightly. ‘So?’ She raised the ring up again.
‘I’ve signed up.’
‘Oh, William.’ This had been the news she’d both expected and dreaded. Tears sprang forth instantly, ushering in a wave of grief.
William, always the gentleman, pulled a huge white handkerchief out of his pocket and passed it to her. ‘I’ve been saving. I opened a bank account years ago. I was going to ask you to marry me when I had enough money to set us up somewhere.’
Grace looked into his clear blue eyes and saw his sadness. ‘You were?’
‘Yes, I’ve always thought, if you didn’t fall in love with someone else, that we could be happy together. We could genuinely be good companions and care for each other. I know it is not very romantic, and not the reason why any young woman would want to get married, but I do believe in my heart that I could make you happy. I wouldn’t ask you otherwise.’
‘You never even hinted about it to me, why now? And be honest.’
William chewed his lip nervously, and then looking down at the ground he explained, ‘I’m frightened. Only last month, Trevor was nearly left for dead after a gang jumped on him, all because he defended pansies and they thought he must be one. I’ve joined up, I have to, it’s my duty. But what if they find out about me? I am more frightened of my regiment finding that out, than I am of facing the Nazis.’
‘Alright then, I think I would like to be Mrs. Shelby, very much.’
‘Are you sure?’ He looked at her, his light blue eyes full of hope.
‘Yes. Better to be married to my best friend than to be left an old maid, hey?’
‘We’re doing this then? We’ll let everyone know we’re engaged and in love? It’s just, I think, if I can send letters home to my fiancée and sweetheart no one will ever guess the truth.’
A little of the happiness that Grace had felt a moment before ebbed away with the realization that William was only proposing because he was going to war and was afraid of the future. She brushed the thought away quickly. She would be frightened if she were going to war. With the Great War so recently gone by, the knowledge of the atrocities that war created lay heavily on everyone. She blinked in an effort to shake off the gloom threatening her spirit and forming a tight, uncomfortable ball in her throat.
William cupped Grace’s face with his large, gentle hands. ‘I promise I’ll be good to you, and we’ll live happy ever after, you wait and see.’ He took the ring from her and slipped it on her finger.
‘It’s very pretty.’
‘I have to confess that the ring is second-hand, I got it from the pawn shop. I’ve only recently finished my apprenticeship at the Vulcan, as you know, so I haven’t been able to save up as much as I would have liked. What I do have in the bank is for our future. You don’t mind, do you?’
‘Of course not, it is so pretty. I love old things, it adds to the charm.’
Happy tears trickled down Grace’s cheeks.
Although this wasn’t the proposal she had dreamt of in her younger years, she was still happy at the thought of sharing her life with William. He was the sweetest, kindest man she knew, and truth be told, she had loved him since leaving school.
The conundrum was, how could a day be both dreadful and wonderful at the same time?
Grace fidgeted with her buttons, an act of nervousness that was not missed by Richard.
‘Sir,’ started William, which he instantly followed with a dry cough. ‘I would like your permission to marry your daughter.’ William squared his shoulders and looked Richard in the eye. William didn’t know why he was nervous; he knew the vicar liked him.
Richard looked at the pair for a moment, and then started laughing. ‘About time, William Shelby, thought you were never going to make an honest woman of my little angel, young man.’
Grace threw herself at her father and clung onto his neck, happy and sad tears once again wetting her face. She had never once held back the truth from her father and she felt that she was deceiving him. She knew he wouldn’t understand why she was marrying if he knew the full truth, and decided that sometimes not revealing the whole truth was simply the best for everyone. Richard held her back a bit so he could look at her.
‘No need to ask if you’re happy. I am sincerely glad for you both, and you certainly get my blessing, William. So, have you thought about a date? With things the way they are I guess we should do it as quickly as possible?’
Grace stepped back from her father and took hold of William’s hand. ‘We’re going to have to wait, Dad. William has enlisted and goes away the day after tomorrow. We’re going to wait until he returns.’
‘Are you sure?’ Richard scrutinized his daughter’s face.
‘I’ve waited an awfully long time. I don’t mind waiting a little bit longer.’
‘Enlisting means he will be away for four years,’ said Richard, trying to convey his concern without imposing his will.
‘I feel strongly about protecting both Britain and the people I love, sir. I enlisted the moment they announced Hitler had invaded Poland,’ said William. ‘We are so much more prepared and surely we have more advanced weapons than anyone else. It might not be over in months, but I need to help to get it finished as soon as possible. You do understand, don’t you?’
Richard didn’t hold out the same hope, but he was loath to take away his daughter’s happiness. ‘So, marriage when you get back then. Can we at least have an engagement party?’
‘Sounds like a jolly good idea to me, sir.’
‘Here, there’s no need for that, I’m going to be your father-in-law, Richard, will do.’
‘I’ll try sir, but that might take a bit of getting used to.’
Despite the day’s awful news, Grace found her heart full of mixed emotions, but the strongest by far was love. The future was uncertain, but her happy-ever-after wasn’t. She would marry William, as soon as he came back, and they would start a family, for he had assured her that despite his interest in men he would perform his husbandly duties. She knew he wouldn’t want to share a bed with her except for these moments, but she was also convinced that so long as she had a child, she wouldn’t mind.
‘So, shall we combine Sunday supper with an engagement party?’ Grace asked.
‘Good idea. I have some money in my shoe polish tin, Grace, take that and use it to buy some tasty things.’
‘Thank you, Dad,’ she said with a sigh of happiness.
Grace had never liked looking at herself in the mirror. She considered herself downright plain, someone you could look at and never remember you saw them. With her shoulder length, brown, slightly curly hair, her plain features and the fact that she was only five foot, one inch tall, she appeared, to herself, to be most unattractive. Today, she stood in front of the mirror and had a good hard look. She was thankful William had proposed, she was fairly certain no one else would notice her. Moreover, William was handsome and that gave their children a good chance of being better looking than herself. She felt heat in her cheeks as she thought of him; and how close they would have to get to have children.
Most of her clothes were plain and brown but her father had persuaded her to buy something ‘pretty’ for the party. She brushed her hair with a hundred strokes to make it shine, pinched her cheeks to add colour, and bit down on her lips for so long to make them plump and red that they now hurt. But she smiled. The soft blue dress she wore fitted her perfectly. It hugged her waist and complemented her slender figure. The short sleeves and dove neckline added to the image of party. She could honestly say, she’d never thought she’d look as nice as she did today. But it was time to move away from the mirror and go downstairs, for Sunday evening had finally arrived.
The vicarage was overflowing with people, although Grace was sceptical about whether they came to wish them congratulations or whether they heard that farmer Tom had given half a pig to put on the spit roast in celebration. But her happiness was infectious and people smiled at her wherever she went. Despite the constant talk of war people enjoyed the occasion with much merriment. So many donated food to the event that Grace had spent hardly any of her father’s money, which she was very glad about.
A few people came bearing gifts, and Grace was overwhelmed by their generosity and love. Mrs. Tilbury, from the grand house up Southward Road, handed William a beautiful oak case. Grace peered over his shoulder as he opened it and gasped in appreciation when she saw the cutlery set inside.
‘Now before you get too excited, it isn’t silver and it isn’t new, as you’ve probably guessed from the box. However, it is I think a very pretty little set.’
Grace gave her a tight hug. ‘Thank you, that is so very generous of you, I can hardly believe it.’
Mrs. Tilbury literally expanded with joy at the thanks she received from Grace. ‘It has just been sitting in the cupboard for years now, but I am glad that you like it.’
William put the box on the dresser next to the assortment of trinkets given by other people.
Despite only purchasing one bottle of cheap Port, Grace was amused to find that several people were getting merry. She glanced around the room with a smile, wondering who the culprit was, and wasn’t surprised to find Millie filling glasses with the bottle of cooking Sherry.
‘You sure that’s a good idea?’ she challenged, reaching out and putting her hand over William’s glass before Millie could top it up.
‘It’s just one for the road, Grace. The lads are coming to pick me up soon.’
Millie gave the pair a sad look and moved over to Mrs. Tilbury, who despite her airs seemed rather fond of cheap Sherry.
‘It’s gone far too quickly.’ Grace ground her teeth together in an effort to stop the lump in her throat from choking her. William put his glass down, took Grace’s hand, and led her into the hallway. The pair sat on the stairs and William put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in close for a gentle kiss.
‘The war will be over before we know it, Grace. I don’t want you to worry about me. When I come home we’ll go house-hunting and make all the plans for our future come true.’ He pulled a crisp, white handkerchief out of his shirt pocket and gently dabbed at the tears trickling down her cheeks. ‘You don’t regret waiting to get married until I get back, do you?’
