yet but Dad saw it as if they were ⦠âAnd âereâs you, wetting yourself in case this country finally gets you in its grips. Thereâs already rumours that we could end up with military conscription by next year if weâre still at war. Then youâll âave to go, wonât you, whether you like it or not. Then weâll see. Iâm bloody ashamed of you, thatâs what I am.â
So saying, Dad had turned his back on George since then and had hardly spoken to him. But Dad was not going to turn him from his beliefs.
His minister would hand him pamphlets, booklets that heâd written, sometimes in the form of poetry, exquisite poetry that went straight to the heart: gentle patience, control over anger, the ability to turn the other cheek. They made him wish that others could read the message they held, that if all men could understand, thereâd be no wars. Heâd agreed to hand them out to people, but when he did, all he got were snide remarks and ridicule; usually people tossed the pamphlets to the curb â or back in his face â as they walked off. It was soul destroying, really. But it hadnât shaken his faith and never would.
Chapter Seven
March 1915
Thereâd been no word from the newspaper that had interviewed her. So much for talk, getting her all excited. So much for expectation! What had she expected? A factory girl with just an ordinary education ⦠Not even reckoned clever enough to master a filing job. Better to stop dreaming of wonderful things and resign herself to what she was. Besides, she now had much more to think about.
At the weekend Ronnie and Bert had appeared on the doorstep, on twenty-four-hour leave. But excitement had changed moments later to deep concern and, from Mum, tears, as they heard that the two were finally being sent abroad. This was embarkation leave.
Young Ronnie, eighteen just four months ago, now looked so much older than that, as if his youth had been stripped from him overnight. But there had been something else that had disturbed the family, at least her. Hardly had they stepped into the house to be fallen upon by Mum and have their hands mightily shaken by Dad. George made the excuse that heâd planned to be away that weekend with a friend of his and had vanished upstairs to appear a few minutes later with an old case, briefly wishing his brothers well and disappearing out of the house.
Nothing was said, which made it all the more obvious, and painful. And there was no need to guess what they were all thinking â that he had no guts, no guts at all, not even to face his brothers with his so-called beliefs, but had made that pathetic excuse of having made plans. Connie had felt ashamed of him, at the same time deeply embarrassed, and that embarrassment was still with her now.
The thing was, one couldnât go more than a few steps without seeing the recruiting posters on every available wall. Especially the eye-catching one with the handsome colonel with the wonderfully huge moustache and those steady eyes looking into those of everyone who went by, and that steadily pointing finger as if directed at the passer-by personally; underneath the words YOUR COUNTRY NEEDS YOU.
How could anyone see those posters and ignore the call? Already it had prompted thousands more young men to volunteer, so the newspapers were saying, including her two brothers-in-law, who had now signed up with the wivesâ understanding, even if they feared what would happen.
And then there was George ⦠But she would not think of George. It made her unhappy to think about him.
He had tried to explain, so he said, but Dad would have none of it and she couldnât blame him. In fact as soon as George walked into the room, Dad would get up and walk out, usually muttering something about him having something else to do; more often than not it would be down the pub.
Mum would be left there, slack-faced and ill at ease. Any
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