‘I don’t think I could give it up. Unplanned or not, this child is mine. Perhaps it’s the only real thing I have in my life. Or ever will.’
‘How will you manage?’
She told him about her uncle’s will. ‘I never thought he’d leave me anything, but if my cousins and I can put up with each other for a few more days, my immediate financial problems will be solved.’
He nodded. ‘Have you told anyone about the baby?’
‘Only you. And for now, I’d prefer to keep it that way, so please don’t tell anyone.’
‘Why would I?’ he asked with a pained expression.
She drank some of her hot chocolate. It was just as she remembered it, thick and creamy and very sweet. ‘I’m bored with talking about me,’ she said. ‘Tell me something about you.’
He cradled his own mug in his large hands. ‘I’m going to enlist and join the Suffolk Regiment. Just like my dad, and my grandad before him. I should have done it months ago. But I kept hoping it wouldn’t come to that. Seems that things have changed now. I reckon by the end of next week we’ll be at war with Germany, so me and some of the lads from the village have made our minds up to go and do our bit.’
Allegra looked at him, saddened. She remembered him as a young boy, how shy he’d been, and how gentle, how he’d rescued an injured baby blue tit and cared for it until it was well enough to fly away. The thought of him going to war filled her with dismay. To have found him again only to lose him was too dreadful to contemplate.
‘Perhaps you’ll write to me while I’m gone,’ he said. ‘I’d like that.’
She swallowed. ‘There might not be a war,’ she said quietly. ‘Germany might come to its senses.’
‘They won’t. Mark my words; there will be a war. A bloody awful one.’
Chapter Twenty-Five
It was Sunday morning and once again Annelise had woken early. It was what babies did, Hope now accepted; there was no way round it. But thank heavens for Florence and her cheerful willingness to help; the girl was a marvel.
Seated at the kitchen table and encouraging Annelise to eat some toast, Hope took the cup of tea Florence had just poured for her. ‘Thank you,’ she said, ‘and thank you also for all your help.’
‘That’s all right, madam, it’s no bother.’
‘I’m sure that’s not entirely true, but thank you all the same.’ Hope stirred a spoonful of sugar into her tea, then decided to do what she should have done before now but had put off because she was so ashamed of her behaviour. She stirred her tea some more. ‘Florence,’ she began, ‘I’m afraid I was very rude to you the other morning, and I’m sorry for what I said. It was wrong of me to be so short with you, and I want you to know that I appreciate all that you and Mrs Partridge are doing for me.’
‘That’s all right, madam,’ Florence said with a hesitant half-smile. ‘We’re all finding our way just now, aren’t we?’
Hope smiled back at her. ‘I suppose we are, yes.’ She took a sip of her tea. Then: ‘Do you think you could call me by my name, Florence? Madam makes me feel so old.’
‘Of course, Mrs Meyer. If that’s what you’d prefer.’
‘No, not that. Call me Hope. You see, despite the impression you might have gained of me, I don’t really like an excess of formality. I’m much more of an egalitarian.’
Florence’s eyes widened. ‘An eager what?’
Hope nudged another square of toast towards Annelise, urging her to pick it up. ‘Egalitarian means believing in everybody being equal,’ she said. ‘That’s you and me being the same, with no barriers between us. A classless society is what we should be striving for in the world, not fighting each other, setting man against man and boy against boy.’ She sighed. ‘The Great War was supposed to put an end to all wars, but we haven’t learnt a thing, have we?’
At the perplexed expression on Florence’s face, Hope shook her head and raised a hand. ‘I’m sorry, I’m going on far too much. Just ignore me.’
She went back to drinking her tea, knowing that the reason she had spoken the way she had was because she and Edmund had been discussing these things last night. Growing up, they had always seen the world through the same eyes, just as she and Dieter had. It was a shame Edmund had never met Dieter, she was sure they would have got along well together. Like Dieter, Edmund was of a serious bent with a strong social conscience. A doctor at St Thomas’s Hospital in Lambeth, he had suggested that when Hope returned to her flat in London next week, she might like to get in touch with him to arrange lunch. She had made a note of his telephone number and address, but she knew that the reality of her life now would preclude having the time for anything like that.
Putting Edmund out of her mind, she asked Florence if she had enjoyed the fete yesterday, and in particular, the dance. ‘I saw you dancing with Billy Minton,’ she said. ‘He’s grown into a quite a handsome young man. I remember him when he was just a boy. I hope he was a gentleman and walked you home safely afterwards.’
Florence’s face turned scarlet. ‘He was the perfect gentleman all evening,’ she said, suddenly busying herself with a dishcloth.
‘I’m glad to hear it,’ said Hope, amused.
Later, when Florence was alone in the kitchen with Mrs Partridge, preparing breakfast for the family, she wondered at the change in Mrs Meyer – Hope. She had been so chatty and friendly. Apologetic, too. And almost light-hearted. All the same, she’d talked a lot of nonsense. All that stuff about a classless society. As if that would ever happen! As if somebody like Hope Meyer would ever want to get down on her hands and knees and scrub the floors!
But there was no doubt, it was like a different woman had been sitting here in the kitchen with her. Maybe it had something to do with that man Florence had seen her dancing with last night. Billy had pointed him out, had said what a decent sort he was, and that he was Evelyn Flowerday’s brother. Hope had been dancing with him for a fair bit of the evening; it had seemed to Florence that they were getting on like a house on fire.
