up.’
‘Here we are.’ Calypso stopped the car by the house. ‘I’m so sorry, Oliver.’
‘Goodnight. Which room am I in?’
‘The red room.’
‘Thanks.’ Oliver went up the stairs without looking back and into his room. He undressed without putting on the light, pulled on pyjamas, crossed to the window to pull back the curtains, found Sophy.
‘Sophy, what are you doing here?’
‘Aunt Helena wouldn’t let me meet you. Calypso wanted to take me to the station.’
‘She did?’
‘Yes, she suggested it, but Aunt Helena said I must go to bed and could see you in the morning. Are you cross?’
‘No. You are cold. Come here.’ He picked her up. ‘Let me warm you.’ He carried the shivering child to his bed. ‘Let’s warm each other. Get in with me.’
‘Does your head hurt? How did you get shot?’
‘No, it doesn’t. Lie quiet. Perhaps we can hear the sea.’
‘Oliver, you are crying.’ She touched his wet face. He held her close in her Viyella pyjamas. She smelt of soap.
‘Just let me cry—’ He wept for the horrors in Spain and Calypso’s rebuff.
Three
‘M AY WE ASK THE twins over?’ Walter addressed his aunt. ‘Of course.’ Helena glanced fleetingly at her husband’s fingers and balding top, which was all she could see behind the outspread Times. She watched the fingers tighten their grip. ‘Ask them to lunch tomorrow or Friday.’
‘I am out on those days.’ Richard Cuthbertson doubled up the paper with a sweep of his arms, tearing the top sheet. Helena winced and Walter and Polly exchanged a smile.
‘Telephone and ask them.’ Helena spoke towards Polly without moving her head. ‘Such nice boys.’
‘Extraordinary, considering their father. The fellow’s a conchie. I hear he’s filled the Rectory with Germans. What’s he going to get away with next?’
‘Actually, the Erstweilers are Austrian. He played the organ quite beautifully on Sunday, even though it needs repairing. It was so nice of him.’
‘Playing for his supper, that’s all. The fellow’s a Jew, I hear.’
‘Presumably that’s why they are here.’ Walter helped himself to more butter than he needed.
Polly reached for the toast. ‘Are there any young Erstweilers, Aunt?’
‘One, in a camp. The Floyers say the Erstweilers are worried stiff.’
‘Brace him up, do him good. The General says they are splendid places. His friend at the Embassy offered to show him round one when he was over there. Of course he knows it’s all propaganda.’
‘What’s propaganda?’ Calypso came sleepily into the room. ‘Forgive me coming down in a dressing gown, Aunt. Good morning, Uncle.’
‘Concentration camps.’ Walter swallowed his toast.
‘Father says General Peachum is the most gullible man he’s ever come across. Any kedgeree?’
‘I ate it.’ Polly got up from the table.
‘All of it?’ Calypso whispered.
‘There wasn’t much. Sorry.’
‘That’s all right. I’ll eat an egg.’ Calypso sat beside her uncle. ‘I didn’t think it worth dressing as I intend spending all day in the sun. Oliver’s marvellously brown.’
‘We are going to ask the Rectory twins to lunch tomorrow,’ said Walter.
‘If they are conchies like their father I won’t have them in my house,’ said Richard aggressively.
‘It’s Aunt Helena’s house, Uncle, and Father says we should all admire people like Mr Floyer. If there had been more like him in 1914 we should all be living in a better world.’
‘Walter,’ said Helena quietly. ‘Stop it. He will wreck The Times if you tease like that!’ The three young people gave a whoop of laughter. Helena suppressed a smile. Richard Cuthbertson left the room.
‘Aunt Helena, he’s worse than ever.’ Calypso laid a hand on her aunt’s.
‘He doesn’t want another war.’ Helena patted Calypso’s hand. ‘He won’t admit it’s coming. Here’s Oliver. You are up early, that’s not like you.’ Oliver came in through the French windows carrying a
‘Here we are.’ Calypso stopped the car by the house. ‘I’m so sorry, Oliver.’
‘Goodnight. Which room am I in?’
‘The red room.’
‘Thanks.’ Oliver went up the stairs without looking back and into his room. He undressed without putting on the light, pulled on pyjamas, crossed to the window to pull back the curtains, found Sophy.
‘Sophy, what are you doing here?’
‘Aunt Helena wouldn’t let me meet you. Calypso wanted to take me to the station.’
‘She did?’
‘Yes, she suggested it, but Aunt Helena said I must go to bed and could see you in the morning. Are you cross?’
‘No. You are cold. Come here.’ He picked her up. ‘Let me warm you.’ He carried the shivering child to his bed. ‘Let’s warm each other. Get in with me.’
‘Does your head hurt? How did you get shot?’
‘No, it doesn’t. Lie quiet. Perhaps we can hear the sea.’
‘Oliver, you are crying.’ She touched his wet face. He held her close in her Viyella pyjamas. She smelt of soap.
‘Just let me cry—’ He wept for the horrors in Spain and Calypso’s rebuff.
Three
‘M AY WE ASK THE twins over?’ Walter addressed his aunt. ‘Of course.’ Helena glanced fleetingly at her husband’s fingers and balding top, which was all she could see behind the outspread Times. She watched the fingers tighten their grip. ‘Ask them to lunch tomorrow or Friday.’
‘I am out on those days.’ Richard Cuthbertson doubled up the paper with a sweep of his arms, tearing the top sheet. Helena winced and Walter and Polly exchanged a smile.
‘Telephone and ask them.’ Helena spoke towards Polly without moving her head. ‘Such nice boys.’
‘Extraordinary, considering their father. The fellow’s a conchie. I hear he’s filled the Rectory with Germans. What’s he going to get away with next?’
‘Actually, the Erstweilers are Austrian. He played the organ quite beautifully on Sunday, even though it needs repairing. It was so nice of him.’
‘Playing for his supper, that’s all. The fellow’s a Jew, I hear.’
‘Presumably that’s why they are here.’ Walter helped himself to more butter than he needed.
Polly reached for the toast. ‘Are there any young Erstweilers, Aunt?’
‘One, in a camp. The Floyers say the Erstweilers are worried stiff.’
‘Brace him up, do him good. The General says they are splendid places. His friend at the Embassy offered to show him round one when he was over there. Of course he knows it’s all propaganda.’
‘What’s propaganda?’ Calypso came sleepily into the room. ‘Forgive me coming down in a dressing gown, Aunt. Good morning, Uncle.’
‘Concentration camps.’ Walter swallowed his toast.
‘Father says General Peachum is the most gullible man he’s ever come across. Any kedgeree?’
‘I ate it.’ Polly got up from the table.
‘All of it?’ Calypso whispered.
‘There wasn’t much. Sorry.’
‘That’s all right. I’ll eat an egg.’ Calypso sat beside her uncle. ‘I didn’t think it worth dressing as I intend spending all day in the sun. Oliver’s marvellously brown.’
‘We are going to ask the Rectory twins to lunch tomorrow,’ said Walter.
‘If they are conchies like their father I won’t have them in my house,’ said Richard aggressively.
‘It’s Aunt Helena’s house, Uncle, and Father says we should all admire people like Mr Floyer. If there had been more like him in 1914 we should all be living in a better world.’
‘Walter,’ said Helena quietly. ‘Stop it. He will wreck The Times if you tease like that!’ The three young people gave a whoop of laughter. Helena suppressed a smile. Richard Cuthbertson left the room.
‘Aunt Helena, he’s worse than ever.’ Calypso laid a hand on her aunt’s.
‘He doesn’t want another war.’ Helena patted Calypso’s hand. ‘He won’t admit it’s coming. Here’s Oliver. You are up early, that’s not like you.’ Oliver came in through the French windows carrying a
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