It would be June by the time the presents actually got to the men; no doubt they would still be welcome.
“Jenny not with you?”
“She is training to be a nurse, is at the hospital six days a week now. She was more upset than I had realised at her young man dying. She wishes to do her bit, she says.”
That was wholly unexpected – his sister was to be a debutante, not a nurse caring for the wounded of the war. He could not like it, was not about to object.
“My father approves, Mama?”
“He could hardly do otherwise, Peter. There would be such a fuss if he moved to prevent her from serving.”
He said no more on the topic.
“What of you, Minnie?”
“I am learning to drive the car, Peter. When I am competent, I shall join one of the Auxiliary Services. I cannot be a nurse – the blood and the smells and everything! I can be useful, doing a job that will free a man to fight.”
Perhaps he had been sheltered from the changes that were affecting the country, too tied up in his own little world to know what was happening in the country as a whole.
“What of you, brother? Who is this young lady in Shoreham the papers made so much of?”
“Minnie! I told you not to plague your brother when he came home! He must be tired and in need of rest more than anything. After his experiences…”
“No need to worry about me, Mama! The whole business was over in a minute, just a sudden burst of activity and then all finished, a matter of tidying up, no more. The afterclap, the fuss and bother with admirals and the Prince and the newspapers has been far more wearing an experience than the brief fight.”
If her son said so, then she would not argue. She thought him to look older, leaner in the face, strained; he was working long hours and out in an open cockpit, from the photographs in the newspapers, all of which were safely tucked away on her shelves.
“Your face is weather-beaten, Peter. Exposed to the wind all day, it must be. Much like the old sailing ships. I remember my grandfather looking much the same, and he had been retired some little while when I was born. He was a post captain and had a sailing two-decker, one of the last not to have steam as well. Not to worry – there is nothing to be done about it. You look very fine with the three rings on your sleeve – an early promotion.”
“Ten years before I would have even hoped, in peacetime. As it stands, Mama, I am one of the high-flyers now, in both senses!”
They laughed, easing now that the first awkwardness was passed.
“What of your young lady, my son, now that your sister has broached the topic?”
“Miss Josephine Hawes-Parker. Her father is in the Diplomatic Corps, currently in Washington. Her mother is long dead and she remains with her grandparents in Shoreham. Early days yet to say whether it is anything more than acquaintance… I think you would like her, Mama.”
“Hawes-Parker – I know the name if not the people. Her grandmother was a Nisbet, cousin to my sister Elisabeth’s husband’s family. She is one of us.”
That went a long way to ensuring Josephine’s acceptance, if that occasion arose.
“Are you to remain with the balloons, Peter?”
“I hope so, Mama. I have no great choice in the matter, of course. If Their Lordships decide otherwise, I shall go where I am sent. It is unlikely that they will shift me out of the RNAS. Nothing is impossible in the Navy.”
An afternoon in idleness, mostly talking with his sister and discovering what her actual plans were.
“You were just a little evasive in front of Mama, Minnie!”
“Least said the better, Peter. I am to join the Field Auxiliary Nursing Yeomanry as a driver three weeks from Monday. All arranged – I took a day out with Jenny, as far as our parents know. I am only eighteen, still a minor, needing their permission to join. We forged the letter between us. They are short of drivers and are having to train most of their own, rather slowly. I am proficient behind the wheel now and shall be in France by the Tuesday. I am to drive an ambulance to Dover and board ship there. All has been confirmed, the letters sent to Jenny at her hospital. I shall be a trooper, not an officer, but drivers will be promoted corporal very quickly.”
Peter whistled, knowing that he should inform his father of his youngest daughter’s plans. He had no intention of doing so – Minnie was old enough to make her own mind up. Thinking on it, Minnie was older than Josephine by some months. His father would have no objection to her marrying at her age.
“Write to me at HMS Polegate, Minnie. Let me know where you are and what you are doing. Brother Geoffrey will be outraged, no doubt, and our parents will be upset. You are doing what you think is right – good luck to you. There was some mention of a young man in the Flying Corps?”
“Young Edwards? More my father’s hopes than my wishes, Peter. I have not heard from him since he went to France, know nothing of him these days.”
“From all we read, the RFC is in trouble in the air in France. Anything might have happened to him.”
That led to discussion of the risks of flying in the balloons. He had to admit there was danger in the job, did not think it was worse than going to sea in wartime.
“What of Geoffrey, by the way? Is he to remain in the bank? No chance that he will be so foolish as to go to war?”
Minnie was inclined to be disparaging of her elder brother.
“Not the least prospect of him straying out of the City! He will not take any risk that can be avoided – a very proper banking gentleman is our brother.”
“We cannot make war without money, Minnie. A balloon costs the better part of seven thousand pounds, I am told, and the envelope, the elasticated rubber skin that holds the gas, must be replaced at intervals of six to twelve months. Add in the cost of hydrogen gas itself and of the men needed to walk the balloon in and out of the hangars and of the mechanics and we demand a mort of money from the government. I have not included the cost of the bombs we so casually fling into the Channel at the least hint of a shadow beneath the waves – we do not come cheap.”
“No war without the financiers, brother? That might be an argument to shoot the bankers!”
He was shocked that she might even joke about such a thing. The Royal Navy did not include Reds in its ranks.
His father and brother arrived home off the five minutes past five train from London Bridge station, as always, their routine almost never to be broken.
“Peter, I had hoped you might be here tonight! We are to go to dinner with the Lancings, you know, and they are expecting you. Your people said you would be here. I am afraid that you will to an extent be the guest of honour – can’t be avoided in the circumstances. Dress, of course, ribbon rather than miniature medal. A good opportunity for you to meet local Society – it will be rather a large function. With any luck the eldest daughter won’t be there!”
Peter had met Lord Lancing in passing over the years, knew he had a vast family, one son and eight or nine daughters. The oldest girl came to mind – she had done something the year previously, just before war broke out – suffragettes or somesuch, he vaguely recalled. Threw a brick at Lloyd George, perhaps? Not a bad idea if she had – the man was a thorough-going bad lot, a womaniser and a bribe taker if all that was said was true. He had some points in his favour, certainly, had passed some valuable legislation helping ordinary people – he knew that the lower deck had a great respect for him – but the man was no gentleman! His father was not one to have time for suffragettes, brother Geoffrey even less so.
“Surprised he still acknowledges her, sir. Disgraceful sort, a traitor to our class, if you ask me.”