‘They can wait,’ said Marmion, philosophically.
‘Not indefinitely.’
‘The right time will come.’
‘The right time or the right man?’
Marmion smiled. ‘Ideally, both of them will arrive together.’
It was a cloudy day and the promise of rain encouraged Alice Marmion to walk briskly along the pavement. She was on her way home from school and her bag was bulging with the books she had to mark. It was impossible to miss the signs of war all around her. At the outbreak of the conflict, there had been little visible difference in the streets beyond the fluttering of a few Union Jacks. Flags were much more in evidence now and so were people in uniform. Recruiting posters stared down from advertising hoardings. Walls were daubed with patriotic slogans. As a young man limped past on crutches, Alice knew that he’d lost his leg somewhere in combat, one of an untold number of amputees invalided out of the forces.
She arrived home to see her mother hunched over a newspaper.
‘I thought you’d stopped reading the paper, Mummy.’
‘I tried to,’ said Ellen, ‘but, whenever I go shopping, people are talking about the latest news. If I want to join in the discussion, I have to make an effort to keep up.’ She looked up. ‘Good day at school?’
‘Yes,’ said Alice, ‘it was very good, as it happens.’
‘The children are lucky to have a teacher like you.’
‘That’s what I keep telling them.’
Ellen’s tone was meaningful. ‘It’s what you do best.’
‘All right, Mummy, don’t labour the point. You’ve said all there is to say on the subject of my future. Why not wait until I’ve actually made my decision?’
‘I’m hoping your pupils will make it for you.’
Alice put down her bag and went into the kitchen to fill the kettle. After she’d lit the gas and put the kettle on the hob, she came back into the living room. Ellen was still reading a report.
‘Do they say anything about that Zeppelin raid we had in London last night?’ asked Alice.
‘Yes — it’s the first of many according to this. It’s terrifying when you think about it,’ said Ellen. ‘It’s not enough for the Germans to fight on land and sea. Now they want to drop bombs on us from the sky. It’s inhuman.’
‘It’s no more than we’ll do to them in time.’
‘Every day brings more bad news. First, it was all those setbacks in Gallipoli and now it’s the fighting in Flanders. The battle of Ypres keeps going on and on.’
‘Daddy and Joe Keedy were fortunate not to get too close to it.’
‘They got close enough.’
‘What does it say in the paper?’
‘It just lists the casualty figures. It’s not one big battle but a series of small ones in the northern sector of something called the Ypres Salient. It started last month when the German 4th Army attacked the Allied front line.’ She peered at the article. ‘I’m not sure if I’m pronouncing it right but it was the Battle of Gravenstafel Ridge. That’s when they began to use gas attacks.’ Ellen put the paper aside. ‘I can’t read any more. I keep thinking about Paul.’
‘He’s nowhere near Ypres, Mummy.’
‘How do you know that? He may have been moved.’
‘Worrying will get us nowhere.’
‘I tell myself that every day, Alice, but I still fret over your brother. He has his whole life ahead of him. It would be cruel if-’
‘I know,’ interrupted Alice, ‘but it’s the same for every other family with sons in the army. All we can do is to watch and pray.’
Ellen gave a resigned nod and went off into the kitchen. Alice took the opportunity to pick up the paper and read the main stories. The news was dispiriting. Vast amounts of money and manpower were being dedicated to the task of winning small amounts of territory. It seemed pointless to her. Lives were being uselessly sacrificed for what appeared to be minimal gains. Her brother’s letters talked of the severe deficiencies experienced by those in the trenches, yet he was not in a combat zone. Alice thought how much worse it must be for those compelled to lurk in a hole in the ground until someone blew a whistle and ordered them to race towards the enemy machine guns. Like her mother, she could not bear to read too much and set the paper aside. When Alice finally went into the kitchen, Ellen was pouring hot water into the pot. She slipped the tea cosy into position.
‘Your father is so glad that Joe Keedy didn’t join up,’ she said.
‘Lots of other policemen did.’
‘I know, Alice.’
‘You don’t go into the police force unless you like some sort of physical action and the best place to get that is in a war.’
‘Your father thinks very highly of Joe. He says that he’s going to be an outstanding detective.’
‘He’s got a good teacher in Daddy.’
‘The very best,’ said Ellen with a proud smile.
She put milk into two cups then used the strainer as she poured tea into them. Ellen added sugar before stirring. They took their tea back into the living room and sat down.
‘You have to feel sorry for Joe, I suppose,’ said Ellen.
‘Why?’
‘Well, I didn’t know this until your father mentioned it. I thought that what stopped Joe from joining the army was a desire to stay at Scotland Yard.’
‘I thought that as well.’
‘There was another reason, Alice. It seems that he’s been seeing a young lady for some time — a nurse at St Thomas’ Hospital.’
‘Oh.’ Alice was shocked. ‘I didn’t know that.’
‘Joe didn’t want to go abroad for months on end,’ said Ellen. ‘The irony is that his plan has backfired.’
‘I don’t follow.’
‘She’s the one who volunteered to go to the front. While Joe is left here, his young lady is on her way to work in a field hospital. That was why he was able to come to tea on Sunday, you see. Since she’s no longer here, Joe was at a loose end.’
The news was like a punch in the stomach for Alice. She had fond memories of her time alone with Keedy and felt that he’d enjoyed her company as well. Now, it appeared, she was merely a distraction for him while his beloved was abroad. The faint hope she’d started to nurture was snuffed out like a candle. It was a painful moment.
Since she was at home all day for the rest of the week, Irene tried to make herself useful, helping to clean the house and offering to do some shopping. When she asked Miss James if there was anything she could get for her while she was out, the old lady surprised Irene by joining her on the outing. They left the house together and walked arm in arm. Miss James carried her white stick and used it to tap the pavement in front of her. Irene soon got used to the sound it made. She also grew accustomed to the regular greetings that Miss James attracted from passers-by. The old lady was clearly an established figure in the area. She recognised all the voices and was able to put names to faces. There was something oddly comforting about it. Irene wondered how long it would take her to acquire the same sort of popularity in the community. She tried to memorise the names of the various people who spoke to Miss James.
It was a long walk to the shops but the old lady made no complaint about that. She was much more robust than she looked and kept up a steady pace. It was when they turned into the main road that Miss James stopped.
‘Is he still there, Mrs Bayard?’ she asked.
‘Who do you mean?’
‘Someone has been following us since we left the house.’
Irene looked over her shoulder. ‘I don’t see anyone.’
‘Oh, he’s there somewhere.’
‘How do you know that, Miss James?’
‘There’s nothing wrong with my ears, dear.’
They walked on until the shops came into view but it was no longer a pleasant stroll for Irene. She was on edge. Every few seconds she looked uneasily behind her. There was nobody in sight but she trusted the old lady’s instinct. Someone had followed them. She was sure of that now and it was unsettling.