The Death of Hope by Andrew Wareham (inspirational books for women txt) 📕

that everybodyknows you fiddled it somehow, sir. Not just a mad bugger when it comes to afight, which they like, as is only natural; an officer who looks after the menas well, which is not quite so common.”

Richard shrugged, it had not been his intentionto make a name for himself as a kind-hearted gentleman. It could do no harm.

O’Grady left, wondering why the man was chuckling.Richard chose not to enlighten him.

‘All because I did not fancy the Old Mandisinheriting me. And one thing coming on the heels of another and each forcingme further down the same road. If the Old Man had put me in an office, out ofharm’s way, with a promise of a half share when he was gone, I would have beenperfectly happy. As it is, I am a colonel, in the Trenches, my name in the newspapers,and a fiancée waiting for me… Better write, I put nothing on paper yesterday.Mustn’t have her worrying more than is inevitable, far too good a girl to dothat to her.’

He called to Paisley for tea and sat tocomposition, admitting that the battalion had been involved in the big battle, becausehe could not deny it, and trying to find some way of twisting the truth, shortof outright lying, to suggest that he had been well out of harm’s way. Hesuspected she might not believe him. The house at Wells-next-the-Sea served fora good half page – had she seen it, did she like it? He believed that part ofNorfolk to be most handsome, healthy as well with the North Sea airs. Theycould bring up a family there in comfort, he did not doubt. He was stricken by doubt– should he mention a family to an unmarried girl? Was it proper to discusssuch matters with her? He dismissed his doubts – anything could be said to Primrose,and by her.

He spent a pleasant hour, longer than hesuspected he should have taken from the business of the battalion, roserefreshed from the desk a considerate German officer had left behind and whichwas now his. A real desk, with drawers and a small cupboard, not the packingcase or door laid across two boxes he was used to. He expected it was officialissue, German trenches for the use of. Say what you liked about Prussianmilitarism, they were better at running the minutiae of war.

“Paisley, is this to be our bunker for theduration?”

“Yes, sir. It ain’t the biggest but it’swell set up and has a little one next door for a servant what is convenientindeed. Whoever the Hun was had this built knew how to look after himself, that’sfor sure, sir. Got a little flywire meat safe in here, for keeping an openedtin of bully clear of flies, sir. Good for milk, as well. Add to that, if youlooks to the wall on the left, there’s a rack for pistol and belts and such,sir. On the right, there’s hooks up to hang a spare tunic. Got electric cablescoming in as well, but they ain’t connected to nothing no more so no use to us.Your bunk’s clean as well, sir. Didn’t see no bugs to it when I chucked hisblankets out, for not wanting to sleep where a Hun’s been, for not knowing whatdiseases he might have, them being known for strange habits, as you might say.”

Richard gravely agreed – one heard allsorts of tales about the Germans and could not take too many precautions where theywere concerned.

Primrose, accompanied by her mother, theolder lady making a rare excursion from her London home, was visiting at Wells.Her new father-to-be, who she rather liked, was to meet the pair at the hotelclose to the single wharf on the inlet and was next day to escort the pair toexamine the house he had closed on. They progressed fairly quickly on theexpress to Norwich, remarkably slowly on the coast line that trickled betweenthe resort towns of Cromer and Hunstanton, stopping at most villages in between.

“Beautiful scenery, Mother. One can understandMr Vaughan Williams a little more for having seen it.”

Her mama was heard to suggest that it wasgloomy music and much suited to the countryside. She did prefer a dashing polka,she admitted.

That brought artistic conversation to an end.

Mr Baker was waiting at the station andescorted them the few yards to the hotel.

“A tiny town, ladies. The bare essentialsare obtainable and King’s Lynn is less than an hour distant by motor. You will,of course, have a car, Miss Primrose.”

She had not considered that possibility,thought it excellent now that it was mentioned.

“Can we see the house from here, Mr Baker?”

“Almost. Across the creek, in a line withthe boathouse you can see, painted pink for some reason. A clump of orchards thereobscures the actual buildings. Some of the trees are yours, as is theboathouse.”

“Of course, Richard must know how to saila small boat and will enjoy the relaxation of a yacht or what do they call it,a dinghy?”

Mr Baker did not know, having never venturedto sea himself.

They were amazed when the hotel staffpulled heavy drapes across the windows before full dusk.

“Got to, sir, ma’am. By order. It’s themZeppelins what come across the sea with their bombs, sir, ma’am. No light to beshown on the coast nor inland for ten miles and more.”

They were amazed that the war should havespread even to the most rural parts of Britain. It had not affected the foodthe hotel offered, however. They ate well and long.

Mr Baker’s chauffeur had the vehicle waitingfor them after breakfast, a large and solid Humber.

“Mostly going to the Army as staff cars,ma’am, Miss Primrose. Being as the steel works is producing in the nationalinterest, armour plate for new projects especially, I have been granted avehicle.”

They admired his importance to thecountry, much to his pleasure.

Less than a mile, inland, across the creekand then eastwards along a lane leading to the sea brought them to the house.

“It is larger than I thought for, sir.”

“Well, Miss Primrose, it is, I will admit,a little more than I had first intended.”

The manor stood imposing in local stone, abrownish grey, rambling over several extensions