“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.”