Page 32 of The Stranger in Room Six
Aunt Clarissa’s eyes hardened. ‘What have you heard?’
Mabel felt her own voice waver. ‘Only that you are working out how to get England back on its feet and destroy the enemy for ever.’
‘Good girl,’ said a deep voice from behind her aunt. It was the Colonel. ‘Don’t worry, Mabel. We’ll let you know if you can lend a hand when the time comes. Now meanwhile, I’m afraid this meeting is private. Why don’t you go out and check that Foam is settled for the night?’
Foam was an old carthorse who, to Mabel’s delight, had been in the stables when she arrived. ‘She’s a safe ride,’ said the rosy-cheeked elderly groom. ‘I remember your mother riding her at your age, although your aunt wasn’t so keen.’
A lump came into Mabel’s throat. The thought of Mama having ridden the same horse made it feel all the more special.
Meanwhile, Mabel couldn’t help wondering why Aunt Clarissa had never married. In the past, when she’d asked her parents why this was so, they’d gone quiet for a bit and then said she’d never found the right person. Maybe she’d found the right person now, Mabel told herself. On more than one occasion since her arrival, she’d noticed the Colonel’s hand brush her aunt’s.
The following morning, her aunt informed Mabel that they were expecting more company that evening. ‘We don’twant any disturbances. You’re to have an early supper and bedtime.’
How disappointing! When her parents used to have dinner guests, she would be allowed to meet them in the drawing room in her best dress and with her hair plaited by Lizzie. ‘What a charming girl,’ the guests would coo. Her parents would beam down at her approvingly, and Mabel would feel warm and loved and safe.
‘No, you certainly can’t join us,’ snapped Aunt Clarissa when Mabel expressed this wish. ‘In fact, if I see you up and about, I will send you back to London immediately. Bombs or no bombs.’
‘Now, now, Clarissa.’ The Colonel turned back to Mabel. ‘Your aunt doesn’t mean it,’ he said kindly. ‘She just gets a bit agitated before people visit. In fact, it’s really rather exciting to have a crowd. Just like the old days!’
Mabel recounted all of this to Frannie. The two girls had become fast friends, and were now up on the cliffs, looking out for U-boats. Everyone in town was terrified the Germans might invade by sea.
‘What kind of visitors?’ Frannie asked, intrigued.
‘According to Cook, they’re a mixture of wealthy farmers and people with titles. Rumour has it that there’s even an actor,’ said Mabel conspiratorially.
Her friend frowned. ‘It’s not right. We’re meant to scrimp and save during wartime.’
Then, as they reached the cliff edge, she pulled some bracken across and revealed a gaping hole. ‘Look!’
‘A tunnel!’ gasped Mabel. ‘Where does it go?’
‘Down to the main beach. Me dad and uncles have been digging it for ages, but it’s nearly finished now. If the Germans land, the women and children can escape to safety on the fishing boats.’
‘Can your mother sail?’
‘She can row,’ said Frannie staunchly. ‘We all can. Course, I’m going to stay and fight them with my bare hands.’
‘But you’re a girl!’
‘So what?’
It was another world. To think that not so long ago she and Mama and Papa and Annabel would spend their weekends walking along the river or in Hyde Park. And now she was here and they were gone.
‘If my mother had gone into that shelter with me, she would still be alive,’ she said in a small voice. ‘And so would my sister.’
‘So, you’ve accepted they’ve passed then,’ said Frannie gently.
‘I suppose so,’ sniffed Mabel. ‘Mama would have come and found me by now if she’d survived.’
Suddenly, she felt a pair of arms around her. Then Frannie stepped away, flushing. ‘My mam says you’re very welcome to come round for a cup of tea and scone one afternoon. But don’t tell your aunt. She won’t appreciate you coming to a humble place like ours.’
‘I’d love to,’ said Mabel, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief. ‘Thank you.’
That night, Mabel had an early supper and washdown at the sink – baths were restricted to once a week to save on gas. Then she spent the evening with her nose pressed against her bedroom window waiting for the guests.
By 10 p.m., she’d given up and gone to bed.
In the morning, her aunt’s face was even more pinched than usual.
