Suffragette Girl (16 page)

‘Oh, Lady Leonora, I am so
thrilled
to meet you,’ the dear lady chattered, claiming connection with the Pankhursts by the very fact that they were from the same city.
‘I did meet Mrs Pankhurst once, you know, but it was at a meeting and she was surrounded by her ardent supporters. But to think – you know her
personally.
’

‘Well, a little,’ Lady Lee said modestly and smiled kindly.

‘And you, dear boy,’ Mrs Ponsonby leaned her ample bosom on the table to speak to James. ‘Are you going to enlist?’

There was a stunned silence around the table and Clara gave a little cry of alarm.

‘Not on my birthday, I assure you, Mrs Ponsonby,’ Augusta said spiritedly. This time her guests laughed dutifully.

‘And not at all, I hope,’ Florrie muttered, but her remark earned her an angry glare from Edgar.

‘Now – no more talk of war or of suffragettes,’ Augusta decreed. ‘I don’t want my son having an apoplectic fit at the table.’

But the conversation was stilted and awkward. The war was on everyone’s mind and, with so many supporters of the suffragette movement sitting around the table, the subject was scarcely
avoidable.

It was Edgar himself who brought the topic up again, but, for once, he seemed genuinely interested. Florrie glanced at Isobel and raised her eyebrows in surprise. Even they had underestimated
Lady Lee’s charm offensive.

‘So, what will you ladies do now our country’s at war?’

Lady Lee glanced down the table towards Augusta. She’d no wish to offend the woman whose birthday they were celebrating. But Augusta smiled and inclined her head graciously. She too wanted
to hear the reply.

Lady Leonora cleared her throat. ‘There are two schools of thought about what we should do. One section – which has never supported militancy – will no doubt continue the
struggle in their own way. As for those of us who agree with Mrs Pankhurst – well, it looks likely that our – our operations will cease at least for the duration of hostilities,’
she added, with pointed emphasis. ‘Despite what you might think of us, Mr Maltby, we are patriots, and our country’s need at this time is greater than our own desires.’

Edgar nodded, ‘Well said, my dear. I’m sure – in time – the vote will be given to the likes of you,’ he added condescendingly, ‘ladies of quality and
education, but I shudder to think what would happen if it were extended to the lower classes. Personally, I never entirely agreed with the ’85 Act that gave the vote to most men over the age
of twenty-one. What do illiterate labourers know about the way the country should be run?’

Lifting his wine glass, he failed to see the spark of anger in Lady Lee’s eyes. Florrie saw it and hid her smile. But Lady Lee was a superb actress. Keeping her voice level and with
deceptive mildness, she said, ‘But men from all classes will be expected to
die
for their country, now won’t they, Mr Maltby?’ She left the question hanging in the air,
and to that even Edgar had no answer.

Once the ladies had withdrawn, leaving the men to their port, the conversation in Clara’s drawing room became more personal.

‘Our son intends to enlist at once,’ Matilda began. ‘He’s twenty-two and just finished at theological college. He intends to follow his father into the Church.’

‘You surprise me,’ Augusta said with her customary bluntness. ‘I’d have thought he’d have been against war.’

‘He is – in principle. We all are.’ She stared around her with wide eyes. ‘Aren’t we? But one must do one’s duty. What say you, Lady Leonora?’

Lady Lee smiled pensively. ‘It’s the same old story, isn’t it? It’s all very patriotic and glorious until it comes to sending one’s own son.’

Isobel let out a startled gasp, the colour drained from her face and the dainty cup she held rattled in its saucer. ‘Oh! You don’t mean – you don’t mean
Tim
will
go? I mean, he’s not in the army.’

Lady Lee’s expression was bleak as she said softly, ‘If they call for volunteers, my dear, I’m afraid it’s very likely. I come from a military family. I think he will
feel it his duty to go.’

Until the gentlemen rejoined the ladies, Isobel was in a state of high agitation and, as soon as the door opened, she leapt up and hurried towards Tim, pulling him into the far corner of the
room where their intense whispered conversation could not be overheard. The voluble Mrs Ponsonby gave admirable cover, but Florrie watched them anxiously, a small frown on her forehead.

‘What is it, Florrie?’ Gervase’s soft voice spoke at her side. ‘You look troubled. If you’re concerned about Mrs Ponsonby’s tactless remark about James, I
wouldn’t worry. They won’t be calling for boys of his age.’ He forbore to add ‘Not yet, anyway’, although the thought was in his mind.

‘Yes, it was at the back of my mind, I admit, but my more pressing worry is what those two are talking about.’ She nodded towards Isobel and Tim.

‘Ah!’ Gervase sighed softly. ‘You know then?’

Florrie looked up at him. ‘Know? Know what?’

For a moment Gervase looked flustered. ‘Oh dear, obviously you don’t. I – I thought by what you said . . .’ His voice trailed away.

Now it was Florrie who manoeuvred Gervase towards the French windows and out onto the terrace where they would not be overheard.

‘Now, tell me. Has Tim said anything about volunteering?’

Miserable to be betraying what he now thought might have been a confidence amongst the gentlemen, Gervase nodded. Seeing his discomfort, Florrie put her hands flat against his chest. ‘Dear
Gervase, don’t worry. Lady Lee said as much just now. He’s from a military family, she said, and he might feel it his duty. I expect that’s why Isobel’s cornered
him.’

Gervase looked relieved and even smiled. ‘You’re a little minx, Florrie Maltby. I can’t keep anything from you, can I?’

‘Not a lot, no,’ she replied cheerfully, but then the smile faded from her face. ‘So, is it definite?’

Gervase nodded soberly. ‘He’s going tomorrow to apply to go to a military college somewhere for officer training.’ He glanced across at Isobel and her fiance. ‘He wants
to bring their wedding forward, Florrie. He wants them to be married before he goes.’

At that moment the young couple stood up, glanced around the room and then, seeing Gervase and Florrie standing together outside the long windows, came towards them.

‘Has Gervase told you?’ Isobel said at once, putting her arms about Florrie.

‘Told me what?’ Florrie tried to keep up the pretence, but Isobel knew them both too well.

‘Don’t worry, you’d have been the first to know anyway. Tim is volunteering and he wants us to be married before he goes.’ She tried to force a laugh, though there were
anxious tears in her eyes. ‘Oh, I know it will cause a scandal. The gossips will have a field day, but I don’t care. We want a little time together before . . .’ Now the tears
spilled down her face, but she brushed them away impatiently and added, ‘You will be my bridesmaid, won’t you?’

‘Oh, darling Iso, I’d love to be.’

As the two young women hugged each other, Tim put his hand on Gervase’s shoulder, ‘And – dear brother-in-law to be – I would ask you to be my best man, but, naturally,
Isobel wants you to give her away.’

‘It was kind of you to think of it, but yes, I must stand in for our father.’ The brother and sister exchanged a brief glance of mutual sadness, as Gervase added softly, ‘They
would both so loved to have seen you married, my dear.’

Isobel smiled through her tears and said bravely, ‘It’ll be a difficult day for all sorts of reasons—’ She glanced at Tim. ‘But we’ll make it a happy one for
everyone. Will your mother mind us being married in Bixley Manor church? I – I’d like to be married from home.’

‘Of course she won’t. Let’s go and tell them all now. There’s no point in keeping it secret because we’ll have to move fast.’ They made to turn away back into
the drawing room, but Gervase cleared his throat and said, ‘A moment, if you please. There’s – there’s something I would like to tell you too.’

Florrie caught her breath and her heart beat rapidly. Oh no, she thought, he’s not going to suggest us having a double wedding, is he?

But what Gervase had to say was far more frightening than another proposal of marriage and filled her heart with dread.

‘Iso, I don’t know if you realize, but – well – I’ll probably be going too.’

Isobel gave a little gasp and her hand fluttered to her mouth. Even Florrie’s eyes widened.

‘As you know, I joined the army on leaving school.’ He smiled wryly. ‘It was what Father wanted and, before I had to come home because of his death, I’d completed my
officer’s training.’

Isobel nodded and whispered, ‘Yes, I remember.’

‘I’m probably on a reserve list somewhere anyway – I seem to remember agreeing to it at the time,’ Gervase went on. ‘But I don’t intend to wait for them to
send for me.’

‘But – but what about the estate?’ Isobel cried.

‘I’ll get everything sorted out before I go, but I was rather hoping that, with the suspension of your suffragette activities, you’d be willing to move back to Bixley Manor and
take care of things while – while I’m gone?’

‘Oh no, Gervase dear, you can’t possibly go, because I’m going to offer my services as a nurse. Lady Lee says they’ll be badly needed.’

Before either of the men could say any more, Florrie linked her arm through Isobel’s and declared, ‘Then I’m coming with you.’

Gervase and Tim glanced at each other and shook their heads. ‘I don’t think,’ Tim said slowly, ‘that arguing will do any good.’

‘Not a scrap,’ Isobel and Florrie said together.

As the two young women turned away, Tim put his hand on Gervase’s shoulder. ‘Don’t look so worried, old chap. Iso will probably change her mind once we’re married.
I’ll do my best to talk her out of it.’

But Gervase looked none too sure. He knew his sister – and Florrie. Once they’d made up their minds, there was no dissuading them.

So it was all organized very quickly and, contrary to Isobel’s prediction, the locals did not nod and wink and nudge each other over the swiftly arranged marriage. They
all understood the desire for it, and applauded the gallant young man and his lovely bride when news circulated that she too was to volunteer her services.

‘And you mark my words,’ they said to one another. On and on their tongues wagged, but it was not unkind gossip, as the gifts that arrived for the couple and the offers of willing
hands to help prepare Bixley Manor for the big day testified. ‘Miss Florrie’ll be going too. And have you heard? Mr Richards has asked Mr Maltby to oversee the running of the Bixley
Estate in his absence. Now if only Miss Florrie would marry him . . .’

‘Well, I’m going and there’s nothing you can do about it.’

Once more, Florrie stood in her father’s study. He was standing before the fireplace, resting his arm on the mantelpiece and gazing into the flickering flames of the log fire. Slowly he
raised his head and turned to face her. He watched her for a long moment, his gaze seeming to take in every aspect of her face; a face that was thinner now, but still every bit as beautiful and, if
it were possible, even more determined.

‘We’re going back to London. Isobel and I. But we’re going to volunteer to be nurses. At—’ She licked her lips nervously. ‘At the Front, if
necessary.’

Her father’s voice was filled with sadness and yet a strange longing as he said heavily, ‘I wish James had half your spirit.’

Florrie was startled. ‘James? What – what do you mean?’

‘James is refusing to go.’

‘Go? To war, you mean? But he’s not old enough. He’s only sixteen and he’s still at school. Besides, I thought you wanted him to go on to university?’

‘I did.’

‘Did? Why “did”? Don’t you still?’

Edgar shrugged. ‘Things are different now. Our country’s at war.’

Florrie moved closer to him. ‘You can’t – you can’t possibly want him to volunteer? Not at
sixteen
?’

Edgar squared his shoulders. ‘I most certainly do.’

‘Father, for pity’s sake, he’s a
boy.
’

‘Boys as young as sixteen are volunteering. Young Ben Atkinson has enlisted already. He’ll be going away any day. And he’s only just turned sixteen.’

Florrie gasped. Ben was the son of one of the estate’s tenant farmers, Joe Atkinson and his wife, Olive. He was their only boy out of a family of five children. She was appalled. The war
was only days old. ‘They
let
him go?’

‘I don’t think there was anything they could do. He went to a recruitment rally in Saltershaven and joined up there and then. Besides, I don’t think they’d have wanted to
stop him. They must be very proud of him. I just wish I’d sent James to the rally too. It might have put some courage into the boy.’

‘You’d encourage him to leave school? To give up all his expensive education?’

‘He’d go into the officer-training corps. Like Timothy. He wouldn’t be in the ranks.’

‘An officer? Leading men more than twice his age? Father, have you taken leave of your senses?’

‘Now, look here, my girl, don’t you talk to me like that. I’m your father. Have a bit of respect.’

Quietly now, Florrie said, ‘I have always had the utmost respect for you, Father. Though you might not believe it, I have. But this! This is preposterous.’ She whirled around and ran
from the room. ‘I’ll see what Gran has to say about this.’

‘Florence . . .’ he bellowed, but she paid no heed.

Augusta was descending the stairs, with a speed and lightness of step that belied her threescore years and ten. Behind her, Beth carried her shawl, her spectacles and her book. It was plain that
Augusta was heading for her favourite spot in the corner of the terrace to soak up the summer sunshine.

‘Gran—’ Florrie began impatiently, mounting two steps to reach her even more quickly.

‘Grandmother,’ Augusta corrected mildly. ‘Now, what is it this time? You’re going to become a nurse? I know that.’

‘Yes, yes. It’s not about that this time. It’s about James.’

There was a cry from behind them and Florrie turned to see that her mother, probably hearing the commotion in the hall, had emerged from the morning room. Clara had overheard her
daughter’s words. She moved forward, her hands to her face, her eyes wide. ‘What – what about James? He’s not ill, is he? He can’t be. He was all right at breakfast.
What’s happened? Where is he? Is he in his room?’ She began to mount the stairs. ‘Has your father called the doctor?’