Cyril turned the radio off. Nobody spoke until he said, ‘So that’s it then. We thought it was coming and now it’s here.’
Milly stared at her feet. War. What did it mean? How scary. She half expected to hear the thundering roar of aeroplanes overhead, but an uneasy silence filled the room. Now that there was a war, what should she do? Perhaps she should join up? She quite fancied the WAAFs but as yet she didn’t know that much about them. She glanced at Lena and Seebold. If there was a war, they would be separated. They might not see each other for ages. She rubbed her forehead. There was too much going on right now to think clearly.
Lena felt a sense of relief. She had been wrestling with indecision for so long and now what to do with her life had been settled for her. The country was at war. She would have to do her bit. All that remained was to decide which bit. Should she join one of the forces or go for some sort of civilian post? She’d heard that the National Pigeon Service was recruiting people with homing pigeons, and she’d already contacted them. In fact, the official was coming to see her next week. Then she remembered the fire. Had the birds survived? And what about the hens and the rabbits? Her breath caught in her throat. And what about poor old Nipper?
Lena glanced across at her sister and Seebold, and a cold shudder went through her body. War. People died in wars. Supposing . . . Dear God, it didn’t bear thinking about, especially now that Nan had gone. She sighed. At least poor Nan had been spared that.
Seebold was filled with new resolve. He hadn’t told the girls but he’d had a letter from the Home Office a couple of days ago. It was ironic really. All that plotting and planning around the wolf, all that ducking and diving, and now they’d written to tell him that all places of entertainment were to be closed forthwith. He’d been an idiot, of course. He knew that now. He’d risked the girls’ reputations and nearly ended up in jail himself, and for what?
He’d already arranged to put everything into storage for the duration, and then he’d do what he’d always promised himself he would do. He’d join up. He’d prefer to do something involving an engine, spanners and oily rags, so maybe the Royal Engineers, or RAF ground staff, or maybe as a ship’s engineer. That would be good. Ship’s engineers worked on everything from ships to aircraft and submarines.
‘I only just got back from Horsham,’ said Cyril, breaking into their thoughts. ‘My brother has been ill. Nan will be so pleased to see you, and she’ll be right glad when I tell her my brother is on the mend at last. Sorry she’s not here. She’ll be at church, I expect. Never misses church, does my Nan.’
All at once Milly felt ashamed. Here she was thinking about herself and how the war would affect her when she still hadn’t told Cyril why they were here. She took a deep breath. ‘I think you’d better sit quietly for a minute, Cyril,’ she said gently. ‘We have something to tell you.’
* * *
Later, much later, they all sat in the kitchen, hardly knowing what to say. Soon after they’d told him, Cyril had gone to his room a broken man. Lena had got up to follow him, but he’d put his hand up. ‘Just give me a minute, lass. Give me a minute.’ And he closed the door.
Milly blew her nose. Seebold laid his hand on her arm and she gave him a weak smile. Cyril and Nan had been married for more than forty years, and they all knew he’d be completely lost without her. On top of all that, it didn’t help matters to know that the country was at war.
Lena rose to make yet another pot of tea. She wondered, vaguely, why everyone thought a cup of tea would make any difference at a time like this; but they did, herself included.
‘Why was she at the cottage anyway?’ Seebold asked.
Milly shrugged. ‘All I know is that she wasn’t here when we got up Friday morning.’
Lena pushed a cup and saucer in front of Seebold. ‘We thought she might have gone into the village.’
‘I feel really bad about it now,’ said Milly, ‘but I didn’t give it much thought. I had to go to work.’
‘And I went to Frampton’s to buy some chicken feed,’ said Lena.
‘Is there sugar in this tea?’ asked Seebold.
Milly rose to get the sugar bowl and, as she did, she noticed a piece of paper which had fallen onto the floor by the dresser. Picking it up, she let out a gasp. ‘Nan wasn’t even here that night,’ she said. She put the slip of paper onto the table in front of them.
Gone to shut up the hens.
‘I suppose she could have left that before we got up,’ said Lena.
Milly shook her head. ‘If she wrote it in the morning, she would have said, “Gone to let the hens out.” No,’ she added bitterly, ‘she left the note that night and we never even noticed it.’
‘Don’t be so hard on yourself, Milly,’ Lena said gently, ‘you were very upset about the conversation with your mother.’
‘That must be why Cyril’s bike was leaning against the fence,’ said Seebold, having a lightbulb moment. ‘She wanted to get there and back again before it got dark.’
They sipped their tea until Seebold said, ‘Are you two staying here tonight?’
Milly looked at Lena and chewed her bottom lip. ‘We forgot to ask Cyril. Do you think he’d mind?’
‘You stay as long as you like, my dears.’ The voice in the doorway made them all jump. Cyril stood there, red-eyed and looking exhausted.
Lena rose to her feet. ‘Would you like some tea, Cyril? I’ve just made a fresh pot.’
‘No, my dear,’ he said. ‘If you don’t mind, I’m going to bed.’
Twenty minutes later, Milly walked with Seebold to his lorry. ‘I’m sorry if I made a fool of myself at the mortuary,’ he said sheepishly.
She squeezed his forearm. ‘We’ve all had a very traumatic couple of days.’
It wasn’t until he was at the Offington roundabout that it occurred to him that she might be thinking that he didn’t mean what he’d said at the mortuary. He thumped the wheel in frustration. What an idiot. Why did he get so tongue-tied when he was with her? Why did he always mess things up?
Chapter 40
The letter had been addressed to the cottage so it was a couple of days before Mr Sewell, the postman, found out where Milly was staying and was able to deliver it to her. When she opened it, she had to sit down. It was from the Ministry of Home Security’s Camouflage Directorate. Principal Salt had sent her painting, the one of the nightjar, along with a letter of recommendation, and she had been short-listed for an interview. If she was successful, they would contact her for a person-to-person meeting. Her hands were trembling. She felt elated and terrified at the same time. It would be hard to leave Lena and Seebold, but what an amazing opportunity this would be! She sighed. If only poor Nan had been here to see it. Milly felt her eyes stinging, but then she seemed to hear Nan’s voice. ‘Make the most of your opportunities, girl. They don’t come round often.’
Milly took a deep breath. Yes, she would. This opportunity was too good to miss.
Agatha, Pearl and Seebold arrived back in Worthing two days later. Much to Agatha’s disgust, they had been formally arrested on suspicion of arson and manslaughter when the Worthing police arrived in Harwich. The officers were too tired to drive all the way back the same day, so they had to wait in a police cell until the next morning. When they arrived back in Worthing, they were taken straight to Thurloe House in High Street and each put into a police cell. By the time they were interviewed the following day, Agatha was beside herself with rage. This was an affront to her dignity like no other.
‘How dare they treat me like a common criminal!’ she screeched when her solicitor arrived. ‘Where’s Inspector Young? He knew my late husband. Get Inspector Young here, this instant.’
But her solicitor was more circumspect and did his best to calm her down.
‘It’s no good going in there all guns blazing,’ he said. ‘Just answer the questions.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous! I had nothing to do with it,’ Agatha shrieked.
