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Authors: Joyce Dennys

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‘And are those really love-letters, Aunt Lucy?'

Aunt Lucy smiled. ‘There are six volumes of your grandfather's sermons waiting for your salvage if you like to call for them in the morning,' she said.

Always your affectionate Childhood's Friend,

HENRIETTA

December 31, 1941

M
Y DEAR ROBERT
Neither Bill nor the Linnet got home for Christmas this year, and Lady B, who always dines with us on Christmas Day, was in bed with a cold, poor darling, so Charles and I decided to give Evensong the night off, and have a quiet cottage pie. On Christmas morning I gave Charles a pair of sock-suspenders, and he gave me a pair of nail-scissors. We thanked each other gravely, and went to our respective tasks as usual. Matins had given herself the morning off, and people are always iller than usual on Christmas Day. Charles rushed in for lunch, and rushed out again twenty minutes later with a set expression on his face.

In the afternoon I went to see Lady B, who wouldn't let me into her room because of germs. So I went back home, lit the fire in the drawing-room, did the black-out all over the house and sat down with my knitting. At six o'clock there was a lot of scuffling and scrunching on the path outside, and some children began singing carols. We get a lot of carols here, most of them squeaked hurriedly through the letter-box, but these were real carols, sung by a lot of children with a grown-up in charge.

‘God Rest You Merrie Gentlemen', they sang in their clear, sweet voices, and very nearly in tune. After that, we had ‘Once in Royal David's City', and ‘No-well, No-well'. A very small child came in with the collecting-box, and deeply moved by their performance, I gave, as they say, generously. When Charles came home he found me sitting in the dark, blowing my nose.

‘You're not getting a cold, are you?' he said, rather crossly, as he switched on the lights. ‘Hullo!' he said, peering at me closely, ‘what's going on here?'

‘It was the carols,' I muttered.

‘But carols oughtn't to make you sad.'

‘Well, these did. There is so little, so very little peace and good will in the world just now, Charles.'

Charles patted me kindly on the shoulder. ‘Not the international sort, perhaps. Plenty of individual good will,' he said. ‘And now go and put that cottage pie in the oven, I'm hungry.'

When I got back, I found Charles surrounded by a great many strange bottles. He handed me a glass of pale amber-coloured liquid. ‘Drink that,' he said. ‘It'll get you where you live.'

I took a sip. ‘Charles!' I said. ‘What ever is it made of ?'

‘Remnants,' said Charles, with an airy wave of the hand towards the imposing array of bottles on the piano. ‘How does it taste?'

‘Potent, but nice.'

‘Good. Have another.'

‘Thank you, Charles.'

‘You know, Henrietta,' said Charles, as he refilled his glass and mine, ‘even if we can buy the ingredients, we shall never be able to have this drink again, because I can't remember how I made it. It is gone for ever, like the Lost Chord. “It may be that only in heav'n . . . ” '

‘Damn Hitler!' I said loudly.

‘Hear, hear!' said Charles. ‘And the Japs.'

‘And Musso, and Laval.'

‘And God bless the King.'

‘The King!'

‘And the Queen.'

‘Wait a minute, old girl, while I fill up my glass. Now then. And the Queen, God bless her! And the little Princesses.'

‘Absent friends, Charles.'

‘Absent friends, coupled with the names of Bill and Linnet Brown,' said Charles.

‘And the Americans.'

‘Your glass is empty, Henrietta. May I give you a little more?'

‘Thank you, Charles. Just a drop. I find your mixture delicious, but a trifle strong.'

‘There you are. Now, where were we?'

‘The Americans.'

‘Good luck to them.'

‘And the Choles and Pecks.'

Charles gave me a keen look. ‘The Poles and Czechs, and all our other allies,' he said firmly, and brought our toasting to a timely end.

‘I feel better,' I said.

‘That was the idea,' said Charles modestly.

‘A Merry Christmas, Charles.'

‘The same to you, Henrietta.'

We went in to dinner arm-in-arm, and Charles said it was the most delicious cottage pie he had ever had.

Always your affectionate Childhood's Friend,

HENRIETTA

‘And the Choles and Pecks'

A Note on the Author

Joyce Dennys was born 14th August 1883 in India. She came from a military family and her father was a professional soldier in the Indian Army. The Dennys family relocated to England in 1886. Dennys enjoyed drawing lessons throughout her schooling and later enrolled at Exeter Art School. While studying at Exeter, she took part in the war effort and worked as a member of the Voluntary Aid Detachment after passing her Red Cross exams. Dennys designed a recruitment poster to encourage women to sign up. She later wrote and illustrated the VAD alphabet while on duty on a ward and this was published by John Lane.

In 1919 Dennys married Tom Evans, a young doctor, and moved to Australia. While living in New South Wales, Dennys's work was constantly in print and exhibited in many galleries. In 1922 Joyce became a mother and moved back to England. Her drawing took second place to the domestic and social duties of a doctor's wife and mother and she became increasingly frustrated, trying to work whenever she could. She voiced her frustrations through the character of Henrietta, a heroine she created for an article for
Sketch
. The article took the form of Henrietta's letters to her childhood friend Robert, fighting at the front. The article was such a success that Dennys was asked for more, and her letters became a regular feature of
Sketch
until the end of the war. Henrietta was to become so important to Dennys that she once remarked, ‘When I stopped doing the piece after the war, I felt quite lost. Henrietta was part of me. I never quite knew where I ended and she began.' These letters were later compiled to form
Henrietta's War
, first published by Andre Deutsch in 1985. Joyce Dennys died in 1991.

THE BLOOMSBURY GROUP

The Brontës Went to Woolworths
by Rachel Ferguson
Miss Hargreaves
by Frank Baker
Love's Shadow
by Ada Leverson
A Kid for Two Farthings
by Wolf Mankowitz
Mrs Tim of the Regiment
by D.E. Stevenson

The History of Bloomsbury Publishing

Bloomsbury Publishing was founded in 1986 to publish books of excellence and originality. Its authors include Margaret Atwood, John Berger, William Boyd, David Guterson, Khaled Hosseini, John Irving, Anne Michaels, Michael Ondaatje, J.K. Rowling, Donna Tartt and Barbara Trapido. Its logo is Diana, the Roman Goddess of Hunting.

In 1994 Bloomsbury floated on the London Stock Exchange and added both a paperback and a children's list. Bloomsbury is based in Soho Square in London and expanded to New York in 1998 and Berlin in 2003. In 2000 Bloomsbury acquired A&C Black and now publishes
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and the
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. Many books, bestsellers and literary awards later, Bloomsbury is one of the world's leading independent publishing houses.

Launched in 2009, The Bloomsbury Group continues the company's tradition of publishing books with perennial, word-of-mouth appeal. This series celebrates lost classics written by both men and women from the early twentieth century, books recommended by readers for readers. Literary bloggers, authors, friends and colleagues have shared their suggestions of cherished books worthy of revival. To send in your recommendation, please write to:

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Or e-mail: [email protected]

For more information on all titles in The Bloomsbury Group series and to submit your recommendations online please visit
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Footnote

1
British Expeditionary Force

2
Air-Raid Precautions

3
Auxiliary Territorial Service

4
Royal Army Medical Corps

5
Women's Auxiliary Air Force

6
Women's Voluntary Service

7
Auxiliary Fire Service

8
‘Evensong' was one of Henrietta's two dailies. The other was ‘Matins'. They did not like each other and, as one can guess from their names, it was hoped that their paths would seldom cross.

First published in 1985 by Andre Deutsch Ltd
Published by Bloomsbury Publishing PLC 2011
Copyright © Joyce Dennys

This electronic edition published 2011 by Bloomsbury Publishing Plc

The right of Joyce Dennys to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

All rights reserved. You may not copy, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (including without limitation electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, printing, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

Bloomsbury Publishing Plc, 36 Soho Square, London W1D 3QY

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

ISBN 978 1 4088 0870 2

www.bloomsbury.com/JoyceDennys

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BOOK: Henrietta's War
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