Chapter 16

Tom escorted me back to the house and explained everything to Mrs Willis, who lent a sympathetic ear and said she regretted sending me to Home Farm. Before long, I was called back to Lady Violet's side to help her dress for luncheon. Afterwards, she took a nap and I seized the opportunity to spend time alone in my room, with encouragement from Mrs Willis, who said I should try to take it as easy as possible when not required by her ladyship for the remainder of the day. We didn't tell Lady Violet about the parachutist – she wouldn't wish to be bothered with trivial matters relating to servants, but also Mrs Willis was concerned it would worry her when she went out riding.

‘Best keep this to ourselves,' she said.

She also gave me permission to attend Pam's birthday drinks at the Old Fox. Tom would escort me there and back, and he promised to return me home in time to get Lady Violet ready for bed.

When Friday came, I was exhausted, both mentally and physically. The parachutist incident had impacted me more than I cared to admit and my days working for Lady Violet were often long, as she was a woman who liked to burn the candle at both ends. Sometimes, I wouldn't go to bed until one o'clock in the morning, and then I'd lie awake, listening to the planes, the distant thud of bombs dropping rather unsettling. My imagination would run away with me and I'd visualise a bomb dropping directly onto Gatley Hall. We could all so easily be killed while sleeping without feeling a thing. It would be worse to survive and be buried in rubble for hours or even days while Auxiliary Fire Service volunteers did their best to find us. To die like that would be tragic. Or what if one survived but lost a leg or an arm or some other body part? In bed at night, I'd repeat the Lord's Prayer in my head over and over, hoping he might be listening, that this small gesture would protect me in some way.

Every morning, I collected Lady Violet's breakfast from Cook, Mrs Downside – often a boiled egg and toast with butter along with a pot of tea – at seven thirty, regardless of whether I'd slept or not. Lady Violet existed on only a few hours' sleep, but her days were to do what she wished with, and she usually indulged in an afternoon nap – not a liberty I was able to take. Although many of us would have liked to be in her position, her daily life seemed rather mundane. The people she mixed with were more acquaintances than friends, and she spent a great deal of her time sitting around drinking tea, or often brandy if it was after eleven o'clock. Her husband, the earl, was a member of the House of Lords, and so he was in London dealing with important matters relating to the war.

My nerves affected by recent events, I'd often need to remind myself to inhale and exhale properly. A moment alone at Gatley Hall was to be cherished, and I would seek peace and quiet in the laundry room. Sam was often to be found polishing boots in there. He'd make me laugh with his silly jokes and anecdotes about servants and villagers. I had to be careful though, as he was close to Elsie. One afternoon, Sam told me he and Elsie were second cousins and she'd helped him get the job as a hallboy. And so I needed to watch my words when talking to him, presuming that everything could be passed on to Elsie. On occasion, I would find the two of them gossiping in the laundry room about something or other – usually another servant – and they'd stop talking as soon as I entered. This made me uncomfortable, and Elsie would never be a friend of mine, she'd made that abundantly clear.

On Friday evening, Tom and I set out for the Old Fox. He took his bicycle, and I borrowed Sam's. Tom led the way and I followed as we progressed up the twisting and winding drive towards the black and gold gates and into the village. Apart from a sliver of moon, the night was pitch black and I found it difficult to see where we were going. We weren't allowed to use torches due to the blackout. It was a starry night though, and I could make out the Plough. The drive was riddled with potholes, and this made for a bumpy ride and the strong likelihood of getting a puncture. Plane after plane passed over us, making it impossible to converse as we cycled. I tried to shut the visions of buildings in flames and belongings and body parts scattered around the streets out of my mind. We had to do our best to remain strong in the face of adversity in order to survive the horror we were living through. Sometimes, I liked to pretend it was all a dream or a film at the pictures.

When we at last reached the village, we left our bicycles outside the Old Fox and went through the front door and into a room bustling with people. It was cosy, with a log fire burning and the atmosphere a joyous and lively one. When we arrived, the pianist, presumably Bert, was playing‘Roll out the Barrel', and a few girls were leaning over the piano, singing along with great enthusiasm. Every table was taken and people stood at the bar, talking and laughing. Going to the pub was a way to escape, to act as though we were living in normal times. Pam sat in a corner with Mr and Mrs Marshall and said hello as we pulled up chairs and joined them.

It was then that I spotted Luca opposite Pam. He was so handsome and he was causing quite a stir. Girls were stealing a glance whenever they had the opportunity. I even caught Lilian staring at him, despite being with her Canadian soldier Ted, who looked rather handsome himself, dressed in uniform. Tom bought me a beer along with one for himself. Luca was talking to Pam, using his hands as he spoke. How I wished Luca thought about me as much as I did about him, but it couldn't be possible. For, although I scrubbed up well when putting on a nice dress and a spot of rouge, I was no beauty, with hair Mother often referred to as unruly and difficult to tame. Luca did throw me a look though, and I wondered, nay hoped, he might find me attractive after all. I smiled at him, and he came to sit in the chair next to me. This unexpected move produced a fluttering in my gut.

‘How are you, Margaret, after what happened?'

‘Oh, I'm all right, thank you. Stiff upper lip, and all that.'

He scrunched up his forehead, clearly not understanding. ‘Margaret, I wonder if you like to have picnic with me?'

‘I'd be delighted. It would have to be when her ladyship is lunching though, and I wouldn't have very long.'

‘All right. I send you message.'

He went back to the other side of the table and, when Tom looked over, I hoped my face wasn't the colour of beetroot. Had Luca really asked me to meet him?

The evening turned out to be fun, reminding me of drinks with my Taylor and Stone colleagues at the Running Horse. But when I went to buy a drink for Tom in return, Ted bumped into me as I was carrying the glasses back to the table. It wasn't his fault – he'd been edging his way around some girls singing along to ‘My Old Man's a Dustman' and waving their arms around, and so didn't notice me trying to squeeze past. Some of the beer splashed onto the floor and, before I knew it, Tom was standing before us.

‘What do you think you're doing?' he said to Ted.

‘I'm sorry, man. I didn't see her,' Ted said.

‘She has a name and it's Mags. How dare you disrespect her like that! And you spilled some of my drink in the process.'

‘It was a mistake and I apologise,' Ted said.

‘You Canadians, taking our women while their men are fighting a war. Well, Martin Chester is my best friend, and he was ready to marry our Lilian.'

Ted ran a hand through his hair, awkwardly, and I felt sorry for him.

‘Nothing to say, man?' Tom said, in a mocking voice.

Lilian came over and said, ‘What's going on?'

‘Nothing, darlin', just go and sit down. I can handle this,' Ted said.

‘You can, can you?' Tom said, his face reddening.

I was shocked to see Tom being so aggressive.

‘It's not his fault,' Lilian said. ‘Me and Martin were never going to get married.'

‘That's not what he thought,' Tom said to her. Then, turning to Ted, he said, ‘Taking over our village, and giving our girls silk stockings. Who do you think you are?'

‘I'm sorry, man, I really am,' Ted said, attempting to walk away.

Tom raised his fists. ‘How dare you walk away from me when I'm talking to you! Come on, then, why don't you show me how tough you really are. Taking a girl from her man while he's fighting for his country.'

‘I don't wanna fight you,' Ted said.

‘Don't want to or are you too scared? All bravado, are we?' Tom raised his fist and jabbed Ted's arm.

‘Come on, then. Let's see who's a better man. I'll fight you on behalf of my friend. Kick your head in, I will.'

Me and Lilian looked at each other. I wanted to stop Tom but didn't know how as his eyes were filled with such fury. Ted was much taller and broader than him.

Bert had stopped playing the piano and everyone in the room was watching. Mr Marshall stood up and came over, took Tom gently by the arm.

‘Come on, Tom. It's not worth it, lad. It's time you went home.'

‘I'm not finished here though, Mr Marshall,' Tom said.

‘Oh yes, you are,' Mr Marshall said. ‘Go on,' he said to Ted, ‘you and your girl go and sit over there.'

Ted and Lilian went over to the far corner. She was sobbing.

‘It's not fair what happened to poor Martin, but she's made her choice, and you need to stay out of it,' Mr Marshall said.

‘Let's go, Mags,' Tom said with a sigh.

Seeing this side of Tom both horrified and disappointed me. Although I could empathise with his point of view, he shouldn't be starting a fight. I put it down to him being angry about the betrayal of his friend, but still his behaviour was unacceptable. We left the Old Fox and cycled back to Gatley Hall in silence and I replayed the argument in my head, quite shaken. Then I thought back to my conversation with Luca. How I hoped he'd keep his word about sending a message to me.

Tom held the door open to the servants' entrance, and said, ‘I'm sorry you had to see all that, Mags. Martin Chester is a mess because of that Canadian chap stealing his girl.'

‘I did find the whole experience rather upsetting, but I suppose you were sticking up for your friend,' I said.

He threw me a look as if he were a little ashamed, and I said, ‘Goodnight,' as I went up the stairs. I just wanted to forget about it all and hoped our friendship wouldn't be impacted by this awkward exchange.

‘Goodnight, Mags,' he said.

After agreeing with Lady Violet what she'd wear the next day – thankfully, she didn't have guests, so was earlier than usual that evening – I went to bed. Feeling restless, I thought back to what Aunt Edith had said about writing a diary to help get one through on darker days.

Getting out of bed, I removed the diary she'd gifted me from the drawer of the writing table. I started to write with my fountain pen, recording what happened that day out in the field and how it had made me feel. When I'd written a couple of pages, I instantly felt better. The last thing I wanted was for anyone to read my private thoughts, and so I put the diary under my mattress. And then, to sleep, my head filled with a vision of me in Luca's arms with him kissing me as if I were the only girl in the world.