foolish?’
‘No. I was feeling the same but wasn’t brave enough to admit it. I’ll tell the undertakers to take her away again till the funeral, and blame it on myself.’ She reached up to lay one hand gently on his cheek. ‘I’m so very glad you came, Alex.’
He leant forward to plant a cousinly kiss on her forehead. ‘I am too. I’m always glad to see you, my dear.’
‘Why don’t you wait for me in the front parlour while I speak to the undertaker?’
He was tired, glad to sit down in front of a cheerful fire.There was the sound of hushed voices from the hall, then Mildred came back to join him, sitting next to him on the sofa. ‘I’ve sent for a tea tray. While we wait, tell me how you’re keeping.’
‘I’m well enough. My health is much better than it was when I was a child.’
‘Your father should never have sent you out with the drays. You got soaked to the skin so many times and we nearly lost you to pneumonia twice.’
‘He had very fixed ideas about my working my way through the family business. Ah well, he’s long gone now and my health continues to improve. I didn’t even have a cold last winter. I feel like a fraud for failing the army medical.’
‘Your heart has a slight murmur and your lungs were weakened. It seemed obvious to me even before you volunteered that you couldn’t have coped with the training, let alone the dreadful conditions out there in France. Why did you volunteer, my dear?’
‘I just … thought it was my duty, wanted to do my bit. But I must say I was dreading it.’ He hated to be such a weakling. Other men of thirty-eight passed their medicals and went to serve their country.
Twice recently, women had stopped him in the street to hand him white feathers, which he thought a cruel thing to do to anyone. He had told them outright that he’d failed the medical and they should make sure who they were dealing with before doing something as unkind as accusing strangers of cowardice.
One woman had said he should be wearing a Silver War Badge to show he was ineligible, so he told her this was still a free country and men should be left to follow their own consciences, even pacifists. That had upset her.
He realised he’d been silent for longer than was polite. One of his cousin’s gifts was that she would give you time to think. ‘Sorry. I was remembering something. Tell me what you’ve been doing besides looking after my mother.’ He leant back and enjoyed the sight of her rosy face as they chatted.
She told him briefly about her war activities, rolling bandages and packing boxes of comforts for the troops. ‘Now, that’s quite enough about me. There’s nothing interesting about rolling bandages, however necessary they may be. Tell me how your shop is going. It looked so beautiful last time I visited London. You should have been an artist.’
‘Business is good. Because new furniture is in short supply, good quality second-hand furniture is even more in demand.’
‘Second-hand furniture indeed! You deal in valuable and rare antiques.’
‘I deal in many other things these days. If people are selling furniture and bric-a-brac because they’re in distress financially due to the war, I try to help them out, even if they aren’t offering something I would normally buy. I originally opened a second shop to sell these cheaper and yet still good items, not expecting to make much money from it. But it’s proved an excellent business venture.’
‘I’m sure you’ve helped a lot of people whose goods didn’t bring you a profit.’
‘But they do bring a profit. Oh, not as much as my more valuable pieces, but a profit nonetheless.’ He sighed. ‘Lucas Marsh manages the other shop for me, and although he’s in his late forties, he’s in good health and very capable. His assistant volunteered, so he’s another whose wife has started helping out. She’s doing very well, but … Oh, never mind that.’
‘No, tell me. But
‘No. I was feeling the same but wasn’t brave enough to admit it. I’ll tell the undertakers to take her away again till the funeral, and blame it on myself.’ She reached up to lay one hand gently on his cheek. ‘I’m so very glad you came, Alex.’
He leant forward to plant a cousinly kiss on her forehead. ‘I am too. I’m always glad to see you, my dear.’
‘Why don’t you wait for me in the front parlour while I speak to the undertaker?’
He was tired, glad to sit down in front of a cheerful fire.There was the sound of hushed voices from the hall, then Mildred came back to join him, sitting next to him on the sofa. ‘I’ve sent for a tea tray. While we wait, tell me how you’re keeping.’
‘I’m well enough. My health is much better than it was when I was a child.’
‘Your father should never have sent you out with the drays. You got soaked to the skin so many times and we nearly lost you to pneumonia twice.’
‘He had very fixed ideas about my working my way through the family business. Ah well, he’s long gone now and my health continues to improve. I didn’t even have a cold last winter. I feel like a fraud for failing the army medical.’
‘Your heart has a slight murmur and your lungs were weakened. It seemed obvious to me even before you volunteered that you couldn’t have coped with the training, let alone the dreadful conditions out there in France. Why did you volunteer, my dear?’
‘I just … thought it was my duty, wanted to do my bit. But I must say I was dreading it.’ He hated to be such a weakling. Other men of thirty-eight passed their medicals and went to serve their country.
Twice recently, women had stopped him in the street to hand him white feathers, which he thought a cruel thing to do to anyone. He had told them outright that he’d failed the medical and they should make sure who they were dealing with before doing something as unkind as accusing strangers of cowardice.
One woman had said he should be wearing a Silver War Badge to show he was ineligible, so he told her this was still a free country and men should be left to follow their own consciences, even pacifists. That had upset her.
He realised he’d been silent for longer than was polite. One of his cousin’s gifts was that she would give you time to think. ‘Sorry. I was remembering something. Tell me what you’ve been doing besides looking after my mother.’ He leant back and enjoyed the sight of her rosy face as they chatted.
She told him briefly about her war activities, rolling bandages and packing boxes of comforts for the troops. ‘Now, that’s quite enough about me. There’s nothing interesting about rolling bandages, however necessary they may be. Tell me how your shop is going. It looked so beautiful last time I visited London. You should have been an artist.’
‘Business is good. Because new furniture is in short supply, good quality second-hand furniture is even more in demand.’
‘Second-hand furniture indeed! You deal in valuable and rare antiques.’
‘I deal in many other things these days. If people are selling furniture and bric-a-brac because they’re in distress financially due to the war, I try to help them out, even if they aren’t offering something I would normally buy. I originally opened a second shop to sell these cheaper and yet still good items, not expecting to make much money from it. But it’s proved an excellent business venture.’
‘I’m sure you’ve helped a lot of people whose goods didn’t bring you a profit.’
‘But they do bring a profit. Oh, not as much as my more valuable pieces, but a profit nonetheless.’ He sighed. ‘Lucas Marsh manages the other shop for me, and although he’s in his late forties, he’s in good health and very capable. His assistant volunteered, so he’s another whose wife has started helping out. She’s doing very well, but … Oh, never mind that.’
‘No, tell me. But
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