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Authors: Charlotte Bingham

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BOOK: The Daisy Club
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Branscombe watched him.
‘What's in that when it's at home, then, Johnny?' he finally asked, as he handed him a piece of pastry he had baked for his return.
Johnny gave Branscombe a sage look, and as he did so Branscombe noted that he now looked older than his years, as he would do after all he had been through, but he seemed strangely satisfied, too, as if something in which he had believed had come true.
‘The train Miss Maude gave me, see, Mr Branscombe, she were right, see?'
‘Miss Maude is often right, young Johnny.'
Johnny held up the toy train given to him by Maude.
‘She said it would bring me back, and, see – it did.'
Chapter Thirteen
Branscombe's expression was immovable, stubborn, and intransigent, all at the same time.
‘You will have to go and tell Miss Maude, Miss Freddie. You will have to go and tell her that this chap wants to marry you, and after only seeing you twice. It is not for me to say, but it does seem a bit precipitous, even for wartime.'
Freddie's expression was not unlike Branscombe's.
‘I don't see why. I just don't see why it is precipitous. Why, only the other day I read of a couple who met on a train, fell in love instantly, got off at the next stop, and went straight to the registry office and got married.'
‘The train must have taken a long time between stations, and doubtless had a stop or two in tunnels, too.'
Freddie stared round at Daisy, who pulled a face, not quite knowing where she might fit into the conversation, if at all.
‘It is just the way it is done at the Hall, Miss Freddie.'
‘But I'm not a Beresford. If I was, well, I would have to go and tell Miss Maude, or ask her for permission to marry, but as I am to all intents and purposes an orphan, and over twenty-one, I don't see why it is necessary, really I don't.'
Branscombe's expression remained unchanged.
‘Do as you like, Miss Freddie, as you always do, but the truth of the matter is that you are at the Hall, and here things are done differently. It is only good manners, after all, Miss Maude acted
in loco parentis
when you were an orphan and a minor.'
Daisy and Freddie retreated to the flat. It was still bitterly cold, even though it was meant to be spring.
‘I don't see why you have to tell Aunt Maude you want to marry Ben what's-his-face,' Daisy said, pouring them both a gin. ‘I mean to say, she's not your mother, and you're only here for the duration. Once the war's won, you'll be off like a shot. Branscombe's being a bit stuffy, surely?'
‘Both Branscombe and Miss Maude, they've both been a bit preoccupied lately,' Freddie went on. ‘There've been a great deal of coming and goings, ever since young Johnny came back. Something's up, although what, I wouldn't know.'
‘Now I'm based so much nearer, I can help you out here, you know, with everyone. All hands to the pump, and all that. And God knows you need all hands with that pump out there.'
Freddie shook her head.
‘No, you stick to your planes, you'll only be an extra mouth to feed,' she said, straight-faced. ‘And really, we could do without that, and you. We can manage, we have done, and we will go on, until this bloody war is over! Excuse my English . . .'
Daisy laughed, and then decided to bite on the bullet, probably the effects of the gin.
‘Freddie, I have to tell you something. I have done something pretty dreadful.'
Freddie put her hand up, after gulping her gin too quickly.
‘Don't tell me any secrets, don't tell me anything. I am hopeless, I will only come out with it, and ruin everything.'
‘I slept with David Moreton,' Daisy burst out.
Freddie wanted to say ‘Is that all?' But she knew that it would not be the right thing to say, so she just stared at Daisy, not really understanding, and then the penny dropped.
‘You mean David Moreton. David Moreton? The David Moreton that Laura was in love with?'
‘Yes. That David Moreton.'
Daisy nodded, while at the same time finding she was unable to look Freddie in the eyes. And when she could, eventually, she saw that Freddie was not as shocked as she should be.
‘I have to tell Laura, don't I?'
Freddie shook her head, appalled.
‘No, you do not have to tell Laura anything. Do not even attempt to tell Laura anything.'
‘But she must know, anyway, because David signed his name, silly fellow, in the visitors' book in London. He signed his name.'
‘So?'
‘So Laura must have seen it, because she has been staying at the flat, off and on.'
‘And?'
‘And, well, it is pretty obvious.'
Freddie leaned forward, and smacked Daisy lightly on the hand.
‘That is for being so stupid. Why do you want to tell Laura something that she doesn't want to know, wouldn't want to know? Is it because you are thinking of her? No, I suggest, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, that you want to tell Laura because it will make
you
feel better, and for no other reason.'
‘But what if she finds out? She is bound to find out.'
Freddie gave Daisy a vaguely maternal look. Daisy was very beautiful, and very brave, and very, very silly.
‘If you are intent on getting married to David—'
‘Or he to me—'
‘Then there is no need to tell Laura when you and he met. It is of no matter. Frankly, when all is said and done, not only doesn't it matter, but it is none of her business. Besides, Laura forgot about David aeons and aeons ago, she is on to fresh fields, and certainly pastures new.'
‘How do you mean?'
‘How I mean is, silly, Laura wrote to me – I'll find the letter for you – she has met the love of her life, but she is going to have to wait for him, because he is not in England, and not an Englishman. (It somehow got through the censor, which was a miracle, don't you think?) So, where was I? Oh yes, so why would she now care a threepenny damn if you're going out with David what's-his-face, or anyone else, for that matter? She has a new love in her life, and it is the only one that now matters.'
Daisy could have burst into tears with relief. Instead she lit a cigarette.
‘Are you sure of this?'
‘Of course I am sure of it. Why would I not be sure of it, if it means that much to you, which it does. I should be boiled in a cauldron, if I was not sure of it. At this moment in time Laura has gone to stay with her aunt, who, it seems, is busy giving everyone perfectly delicious food and carrying on as if there were no war on, which is disgraceful, but Laura is revelling in it, just for a bit, and you can't blame her, really.'
Aurelia, on a flying visit to the Hall, had actually told Freddie what Laura had been doing. Well, what she had actually said was, ‘She's been assing about in France.' This was no way to refer to someone putting her life on the line for her country, but Freddie had so far managed not to tell Daisy.
Daisy, in her turn, was still too stunned to care what Laura had been doing, or where, or to be able to even feign interest in it, so she asked nothing more.
‘You are an absolute angel, do you know that, Freddie?' she said, eventually.
‘Yes, I do. Now, staying on me, what am I going to do about Ben Bastable and Miss Maude? Do you think that Branscombe is right, that I will have to ask your aunt's permission to marry him, because of being a minor and
in loco whatsit
? It does seem a bit Victorian.'
‘She might be a bit stiff if you don't,' Daisy admitted, but although she was doing her best to be interested in what Aunt Maude would say, Daisy actually found that she was not very interested in Freddie's romance, so relieved was she that she could see David without feeling guilty. She had lost interest in anything else.
‘Oh, very well, I'll ask her.' As Daisy stood up to leave to go back on ops, Freddie sighed. ‘I'll ask her tomorrow, if only to make Branscombe feel happy.'
There was a long silence, and then Maude spoke.
‘This Corporal Benjamin Bastable, you have been out with him twice, and now he wants to marry you?'
‘Yes. He says he knew it the moment he saw me again, that I was the girl he should marry.'
That was very bold of Freddie, and she knew it, but she was dashed if she was going to be put through the hoops without being completely honest.
‘Nice young man, Corporal Bastable,' Maude announced, after a much smaller silence. ‘Lost his hand, as I remember it, and suffered one or two breakages, but altogether in not too bad a shape. What's he up to now?'
‘He's studying for a degree in something or other – oh, economics – he thinks that after the war everything will be about just that, economics.'
‘He's probably perfectly correct.'
‘And then he's very keen to invent a new kind of bicycle. He draws beautifully, you know.'
Maude looked at Freddie, and smiled.
‘My dear Freddie,' she said. ‘I don't know why you thought it a good idea to ask my permission to marry this young man. Of course you must marry your clever young man, of course you must. As it happens it will serve my purpose very well if you marry him as soon as is perfectly possible.'
She took out some papers from her leather folder, and laid them on the library table.
‘When you have read through these, you will know what I mean.'
There was no time to put together a wedding dress, and anyway, it was not considered quite right to do more than wed in your best suit with perhaps a corsage of flowers on your lapel. But Freddie did have a flowered hat, to go with her spring suit, and loveliest of loveliest of things, a fine pair of nylon stockings.
The honeymoon was spent in a cosy room above a country pub. Freddie thought that making love was wonderful, but did not have time to appreciate it quite as much as she wished, because she had to get back to her duties, and they both had to get back to the war.
‘All that matters is that we love each other, not how long our honeymoon is,' Ben said, by way of comfort.
‘No time to bore each other, either, think of that!' Freddie joked, quickly plaiting her long brown hair and tossing it as usual behind her back. ‘I've really enjoyed my twenty-four hours in civvies,' she added, dressing once more in her nurse's uniform. ‘And what is more, since this is the first day of our marriage, I think I can say I have never been happier.'
Ben turned away. He hated leaving her, had loved loving her, but it was indeed time to get back to the war.
‘We've been very lucky, haven't we? The Hall did us proud, what with the cake and the tinned salmon – don't know where Branscombe got that from – and the gin toasts.' He shook his head. ‘When you think of some, it's into the registry office and out again, and not even time for anything more than a quick kiss.'
They kissed, and Ben dropped Freddie back at the hospital, just as Miss Maude was coming out, having done her bit for the day.
‘Good evening, Miss Maude. Want to hop in, and let me drop you back before I go on?'
Maude settled down in the seat beside him, leaving her bicycle behind for Freddie to bring on in the morning.
‘It was very good of you to say you would sign those papers for me, Benjamin,' she said. ‘And you hardly married!'
They both laughed.
‘Least I could do for you, Miss Maude, the very least. I must thank you for the wonderful wedding you gave us. You spoiled us, really you did.'
Maude glanced sideways at him, although she could not really make out his face in the dark.
‘You're going to be very happy, both of you,' she said with some satisfaction. ‘I know that you are, because you both work hard, and if you work hard, you make things happen, that is how it is. It means a great deal to see you all settled. I only hope my Daisy gets on with it, truly I do. She's so busy being a boy I think she has put love on the back burner, and that will never do.'
Ben knew otherwise, of course. He knew that Daisy had shot off to see David Moreton, about two seconds after he and Freddie were spliced, only just giving herself time to catch the bride's bouquet, which, after all, as they all knew, brought luck in marriage.
‘I think she will find herself someone, Miss Maude, truly I do.'
‘Don't want her ending up like me,' Maude said, getting out and shining her torch as she did so. ‘Don't want her ending up a lonely spinster. I'll walk in front of the car, until we get into the drive, Benjamin. You just follow me.'
Ben did as instructed, and as he did so it seemed to him that Maude Beresford going ahead with the torch, and he following on, was some kind of metaphor – a new word for him – some kind of symbol of the past and the present, he, the younger man in the dark, she the older generation leading the way with a torch.
One of these days Branscombe was sure that one of them was going to fall down the stairs to the kitchen. Clatter, clatter, clatter, perhaps someone already had? He turned. Oh dear, it was Miss Maude, and she was white in the face, and pointing upstairs.
‘Brigadier MacNaughton?' he asked.
She shook her head.
‘No, worse than that, MacNaughton and his ghastly new wife, with the Huggetts, Roger and Susan.'
It had been a day they had all been dreading, knowing that one way or another it would come eventually.
‘They've come for Ted, Branscombe, they've come for Ted!'
Branscombe slowly wiped his hands on a cloth.
‘They have, have they? Well, they're going to be disappointed, aren't they?'
BOOK: The Daisy Club
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