When Beth opened the door to the one-bedroom flat, I could tell she was pleased to have company. Behind her, baby Julia was lying on a blanket on the floor surrounded by chewing toys.
“What a pleasant surprise,” Beth said. “I am all alone because children as young as Julia are not Jack’s strong suit. He prefers them when they’re capable of catching a ball. I’ll give him his due, though; he did change one dirty nappy. After that, he decided to spend the afternoon at the library.”
“Is he looking for anything in particular?” I asked.
“He reads a lot of the old newspapers and regimental histories from the First War. I think he’s trying to figure out how things could have gone so badly. Did you know Jack’s brother was killed on the Somme?” I told her that I did. “But let us talk of happier times,” she quickly added.
As I sat beside Beth on the floor, she took my hand in hers and asked if I had read her letter. “Will you forgive me for not being honest with you?”
“Of course,” I said emphatically. “But now that everything is out in the open, I have to say I know more about your great, great grandmother than I do about you and your family. Would ‘happier times’ include telling me about growing up at Montclair?”
Beth laughed. “You should be a reporter, Maggie. You know how to pursue a story.”
Julia was sitting contentedly between my legs gumming a teething ring. She looked a lot like her mother with her tuft of black hair and olive complexion. Looking at this beautiful child, I thought about Capt. James Crowell’s good fortune in staying in Angela’s village in Italy long enough for them to fall in love. But was it any different than a girl from Minooka, falling in love with a man from Arizona, while living in England?
Beth began by telling me about her parents. Like many people of the British upper class, Edward “Ned” and Sarah Lacey led lives that were very independent of each other.
“Wasn’t your father a broker?” I asked.
For a few seconds, Beth put her head back and looked at the ceiling before saying, “Not really. Oh, he had the title, and he’d pop into the office now and then, but he left the running of the office to the professionals. Jack thinks I don’t know how little my father actually worked, and I don’t want him to know that I know.
“My grandfather, Andrew Lacey, did not like to entertain, so he delegated that job to my father. It was my mother and father who hosted the lawn parties, summer teas, and excursions to the Peak District. It was Papa who was in charge of the shooting parties and who traveled to Scotland to shoot grouse and go salmon fishing. Even though he did all those things, his passion was for motor racing and football. He put together the first organized football club from Crofton. It was made up of boys who worked at the pottery kilns or for the tradespeople and, of course, the boys who worked for us.
“My mother’s passion was for horses. Our family often hosted the hunt, which was a very big event and great fun.”
“Were Jack and his brother involved in the hunt?”
“It was such a big affair, with so many guests, that everyone had a role. Before the start of the run, there would be lawn meets where the riders would gather to drink and eat and generally get in the mood for the chase. Even though Tom and Jack were not servants, their father insisted they help out, and I’d catch Jack looking at me. I really wanted to stay behind to talk to him, but such a thing ‘simply wasn’t done.’ One of the things that was done on these weekends was for husbands and wives to end up in bedrooms with people other than their spouses. Matthew was two years older than I, and Trevor four years. They loved sneaking around to see what went on after my parents retired.
“When I was about thirteen,” Beth continued, “my mother took Reed and me to New York, where we lived with my mother’s sister for about a year, because my father had a mistress, the widow, Mrs. Lucy Arminster.” Looking at my expression and nodding, she said, “The first time Matthew told me my father had spent the night with another woman, I cried until there were no tears left to cry. However, I would subsequently learn my father had more than one affair. The reason my mother went to America wasn’t because he was seeing another woman; it was because the relationship with Mrs. Arminster had gotten serious.
“Reed was greatly troubled by the separation and was having bouts of depression. My father was an anchor for my brother. They often traveled together scouting the local football talent and going to auto races. Fortunately, my Aunt Laura and Grandma convinced my parents to reconcile, so we returned to England.
“All of this had a profound effect on me. That’s why I was so drawn to Jack. I decided I wanted a man with Jack’s qualities, and unlike my father, someone who would be faithful to me. By the time I was eighteen, I had such a crush on him that I couldn’t bear to be away from Montclair. I literally threw myself at him when he came home from school one summer. I didn’t get the expected response. Jack and I had one of those conversations that stays with you forever. I told him that we were living in the twentieth century, and it shouldn’t matter what class a person belonged to in order for them to see each other socially. What Jack said was, ‘You’re telling me I won’t need to use the backstairs anymore. I can just walk around to the front, and when Billy answers the door, tell him I’m paying a social call on Miss Elizabeth. Whose boot do you think will be in my backside first, your mother’s or my father’s?’
“He was perfectly correct. I later apologized because I wanted him to know I was not some mindless flirt bent on seduction. Even with that, he kept his distance. When my mother asked Jack to serve as our chauffeur for our summer tour, he respectfully declined, and my mother’s response confirmed what Jack knew all along. Her requests were actually orders, and she gave him our departure date.
“Of course, Jack thought I had cooked the whole thing up, but it truly was Reed’s idea. In fact, when Grandma suggested that Jack be our driver, I said ‘no,’ because it would only serve to reinforce that I was Miss Elizabeth and he was the butler’s son. It started off very badly, with Jack driving and not talking, and Reed and I sitting in the back seat. But little by little, I chipped away at his reserve. When we went to Brighton, we walked along the beach, and he kissed me. After that, we had the best time, bouncing along those horrible country roads.
“Because we had had such a wonderful summer, I had great hopes that Jack and I could find a way to be together, but it didn’t happen. Jack went back to Manchester, and I returned to Newnham College. In 1914, the summer before the war, Jack retreated to his earlier position that if his father and my mother learnt of a relationship between us, it would be met with a firestorm. Once again, he pushed off on me, and we saw little of each other.
“When Jack came home for Christmas in 1915 from The Tech, he was polite and friendly, but as for a personal relationship, there seemed to be an unbridgeable chasm between us. Jack had orders to report for basic training in January, and I was afraid I might not see him again. So many of the young men I knew were being killed or maimed. I didn’t want anyone but Jack, but Jack didn’t want me.
“I invited my old friend, Ginger Bramfield, to dinner on several occasions during the Christmas holiday with one purpose in mind, and that was to make Jack jealous. Ginger had been wounded at Ypres and had lost the use of his right arm, which was why he was available. What a horrible thing to do to that man. But I wanted Jack, and nothing was going to get in my way.
“The evening before Jack left for basic training, I asked him to meet me behind the garages. I told him that I loved him, and I started to cry and sob and generally carry on. He took me in his arms and held me for the longest time, not saying a word, and then he went back to the house. I was twenty-one years old, and my world had fallen apart.
“What I didn’t know was that I had an unexpected ally — Jack’s mother. One evening, while Ginger was dining with us, Mr. Crowell told everyone downstairs that if things worked out with Ginger, who was the son of a baron, that it would be a good match for me. Later that evening, Jack’s mother surprised him by saying she knew he was in love with me. When Jack told her I wanted to get married, she said we should go ahead. You see, the war changed so many things. Tom and Matthew were serving in the Sherwood Foresters, and both would face the same dangers once they went to France. Even though Matthew was an officer, Mrs. Crowell felt that both were giving their all for their country, and in return, their country should treat them equally.
“When Jack came home from basic training, I was living in Sheffield because I was a Red Cross volunteer. My job was to meet the troop trains and make sure the men had something hot to drink — coffee, tea, soup, whatever they wanted — and little finger sandwiches. I was handing out cups of coffee when a man came up behind me and asked if he could have ‘a cuppa.’ It was Jack. I wanted to fall into his arms, but my supervisor was nearby. I was staying with the Menlo sisters. Mr. and Mrs. Menlo had rescued Jack’s mother from an orphanage, and she had grown up with their five daughters. I told Jack to meet me there after my shift ended.”
Beth started to laugh. “When Jack came by that evening, he proposed, and what a proposal it was. He said, ‘If you still want to get married, we can do it while I’m on leave.’ And then he shrugged his shoulders as if to say it didn’t matter to him one way or the other. It was not how I had imagined Jack proposing, but I decided to accept it, nonetheless. If I was looking for flowery language, I was marrying the wrong man. We got married three days later in the registrar’s office with Mrs. Crowell and her dearest friend, Evangeline Menlo, as witnesses. We spent our wedding night at a hotel across from the train station.
“It was very important that I not get pregnant. The Army provided soldiers with prophylactics by the gross to cut down on venereal disease. Jack had put what were called ‘French letters’ in his kitbag, and just when everything was getting really hot, he couldn’t find his kit. He was walking around the room in the dark, bumping into furniture, saying, ‘Oh my God! Where’s my kitbag? Where’s my kitbag?’ It really was funny, and fortunately he found his kit. We made love so often that I thought I’d end up bowlegged.”
For once, I didn’t blush. I was getting used to Beth’s lack of inhibition in sharing her personal stories. At home, no one ever talked about sex. You weren’t even supposed to think about it because it was a sin, and it would have to be confessed to our grouchy pastor. There might not be any police in Minooka, but there was Father Lynch. After dark, he walked the streets with a shillelagh, banging the bushes and chasing home any young people out after the curfew. Things like that kept your knees together.
“Even though I transferred to a Red Cross unit in London,” Beth continued, “it was very difficult getting the time to see Jack because he had been sent to a camp south of London for additional training. But one evening, Matthew, Tom, Jack, and I all got together for dinner. Tom and Matthew were sailing for France within the week, so we told them we had gotten married. Matthew and Tom jumped up and announced our marriage to everyone in the restaurant and asked if they would join us in a toast. Then the patrons started to come over and congratulate us as if we were old friends. It was wonderful.”
I knew almost nothing about Beth’s brothers, so I asked her what they were like.
“I got along quite well with Trevor, who had a nice, even disposition. He was very handsome and had a reputation as a lady’s man, although I can honestly say that some girls were absolutely shameless in the way they acted around him.
“I have a wonderful niece, Gloria Manning, who lives in the States as a result of a liaison Trevor had with Gloria’s mother, who was a serving girl at one of the inns, when he was at Cambridge. If Ellen’s pregnancy had become known, Trevor would have been sent down. He would have been forced to leave Cambridge. In order to keep everything quiet, Ellen went to live with my mother’s sister in New York where Gloria was born thirty-five years ago. It was very difficult for Ellen to leave her family and England, but she came to believe it was the right decision.
“Matthew was another story. He was all storm and thunder if he didn’t get his way. It was not in his nature to lose at anything. His nickname at Glenkill, the school he attended in Scotland, was ‘Els,’ because he was known to throw elbows when playing rugby. After the war, after word got out about the Battle of the Somme and the complete ineptitude of the British command in ordering that slaughter, Jack and I would talk about how frustrated Matthew must have been knowing that the orders he had been given would not achieve the desired objectives — would not give the British a win. It may sound odd, but Jack and Matthew had dinner together behind the lines in September. Matthew told Jack that there was to be another ‘big push,’ and that he would not survive it. He was right, of course. His company went over the top on September 26th. He died within a mile of where Tom had been killed in July. Matthew’s body was never recovered; he just disappeared.”
“Beth, are you saying that your brother was killed at the Somme, as well as Jack’s brother?” I had that sick feeling you get in your stomach when you know you’re about to get some bad news.
Putting her hand to her head, Beth ran her fingers back and forth along her forehead before saying, “Maggie, I am so sorry. I never told you. Both Trevor and Matthew were killed in France, Trevor in 1915 at Loos, and Matthew a year later almost to the day. I don’t like to think about it. I much prefer to picture Matthew, Trevor, and Tom playing football on the lawn below the gardens.”
Beth sat quietly for several minutes before continuing. “Every family has its secrets, except we had the money to set things right or to hush them up. At my mother’s insistence, we told no one about Reed’s depression. By the time he was called up, the ranks were so depleted they had to take everyone who could pass a physical. My father used his influence to see that Reed was not assigned to the infantry, but incidences of favoritism were receiving some very bad press. So there was only so much that could be done to help my brother.”
Julia, who had been sleeping quietly next to me, started to stir, and the conversation concerning Reed came to an end. Instead, she talked about her sons. She was very close to both of them and was counting down the days until Michael’s discharge from the RAF in November. Her mood improved considerably the more she talked about James and Michael and all the things they had done together, often just the three of them, because Jack was often working.
“It’s really a shame, Maggie, that Michael is in Malta because you would have been just perfect for him. I hope Rob appreciates what a special person you are.”
“Thank you,” I said, smiling at her for the nice compliment. “I know Rob appreciates me, and I know he loves me. It’s just that we never talk about getting married. It’s as if our relationship is stuck in first gear.”
“I wish I could give you some advice because I had the same thing with Jack, but it was only because of the war that we got married.”
“I’m sure it will all work out in the end,” I said, unconvincingly. “And as far as Michael is concerned, it really doesn’t matter, since he already has a girlfriend.”
“That’s true. But that relationship will never end in marriage.” I must have looked puzzled because Beth continued. “I met Audrey, who’s about five years older than Michael, at James’s wedding, but at the time, they were just friends. She’s a charming woman, but when he wrote to say they were seeing each other romantically, Jack and I were surprised because we hadn’t seen anything to indicate that a romance was in the offing. And Michael is such a romantic. If Audrey was that special girl, he would have swept her off her feet and carried her to the nearest chaplain. Besides, he asks more questions about you than he writes about her.”
Unsure of what to say, I told Beth I would set the table for dinner. But I couldn’t help but think about the day Michael and I had spent together at Thor’s Cave, and how I had loved every minute of it. But that was before I had fallen in love with Rob. Even so, I was curious as to why Michael was asking questions about me and wondering why I cared.
When Jack returned from the library, he gave me a big bear hug, and after that, there was little opportunity to discuss anything. Every evening, Julia started fussing at just about dinnertime, and she was right on schedule.
With all Beth had told me, I appreciated why she had been so reluctant to discuss her family. Two of her brothers and brother-in-law had been killed in the First World War. Although Beth did not say what had happened to her brother Reed, it was clear that something had gone very wrong.