I think you’re the one destined for greatness, Tom.’
He turned to me, looking into my eyes with that now so familiar solemn, searching gaze. And reflected in those eyes the setting sun, picking out small flecks of gold in brown.
‘I see it in you . . . I see it in you quite clearly,’ I added, staring back at him, anchored.
He glanced down at my hand, resting on the grass. ‘And of all people . . . of everyone, you’re the one I’d most like to have believe that.’
My Dearest T, did you really wait ALL night? I feel utterly wretched at the thought, but we are filled to the brim here & it’s quite impossible for me to escape. Please tell me that you understand . . . Yr D
Chapter Six
On August the first we enjoyed a heavenly day of croquet, and we had almost a full house. Papa was in London once again, and Mama’s dear friend, and my godmother, Venetia Cooper, had come down for a few days with her son, Jimmy, and Charlie Boyd, another old friend of Henry’s from his school days. All four of my cousins – Edina, Lucy, Archie and Johnnie – were with us for the week, along with their mama, my mother’s sister, Maude. And William, too, had a couple of friends staying. For me, everything was as it had always been, only better, because Tom was now with us. If only Henry and some of the others hadn’t been so determined to talk about the possibility of war.
It was towards the end of the day when I yelled across the croquet lawn at Henry and Tom, ‘Please do stop discussing politics! You’re spoiling our game!’ And when I shouted that line at them for a second time, Henry immediately threw down his mallet and said, ‘Someone please help me throw my baby sister into the lake and then we can all have some peace!’
I saw him striding across the lawn towards me and I screamed, dropped my mallet and took off towards the woods. I heardEdina and Lucy shrieking, the boys cheering, and as I raced through the ferns, with Henry hot on my tail, I lost my shoe, tripped and fell.
‘Please don’t, Henry! Please don’t!’
He laughed. ‘Oh, for goodness sake, Issa, do get up. Look at the state of you.’
I could barely breathe. ‘I can’t,’ I gasped. ‘I’ve hurt my ankle.’
As Henry shook his head and walked away, Tom appeared, holding my shoe. He bent down. ‘Which ankle?’ he asked.
‘The left.’
He placed his hand over my white stocking. ‘Here?’
I shook my head.
He moved his hand up over my ankle. ‘Here?’
‘Yes . . . yes there,’ I replied, wiping away a tear.
‘Are you able to stand?’
He took my hand and I let him pull me up. I stood on one foot as he slipped his arm about my waist. ‘Hold on to me,’ he said. I put my arm around his shoulder and tried to walk, but it was too painful and I cried out. ‘There’s only one thing for it, I’m afraid, I shall have to carry you.’ He handed me my shoe, and then picked me up just as though I were a small child.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said, as he strode back through the ferns towards the croquet lawn.
‘Don’t be sorry. Henry shouldn’t have chased you like that. Anyway, I get the chance to have you in my arms,’ he replied, glancing down at me, smiling.
When we emerged from the woods Edina and Lucy came rushing over from the boys, who were standing in a huddle on the lawn with Henry.
Edina said, ‘Oh, darling! Are you very badly hurt?’
‘She’s twisted her ankle,’ Tom replied, in a perfectly calm and assured voice, and Edina looked up at me, raised her eyebrows, and smiled.
Then Will, George, Archie and all the others were around us, all wishing to look at my injured ankle. But Tom didn’t stop. He continued walking across the lawn, then up the steps, on to the terrace, where my mother sat with Maude. When Mama saw us she stood up.
I remained silent in Tom’s arms as he explained to Mama, with Maude standing next to her, exactly what had taken place, and I saw my mother look across the lawn in
He turned to me, looking into my eyes with that now so familiar solemn, searching gaze. And reflected in those eyes the setting sun, picking out small flecks of gold in brown.
‘I see it in you . . . I see it in you quite clearly,’ I added, staring back at him, anchored.
He glanced down at my hand, resting on the grass. ‘And of all people . . . of everyone, you’re the one I’d most like to have believe that.’
My Dearest T, did you really wait ALL night? I feel utterly wretched at the thought, but we are filled to the brim here & it’s quite impossible for me to escape. Please tell me that you understand . . . Yr D
Chapter Six
On August the first we enjoyed a heavenly day of croquet, and we had almost a full house. Papa was in London once again, and Mama’s dear friend, and my godmother, Venetia Cooper, had come down for a few days with her son, Jimmy, and Charlie Boyd, another old friend of Henry’s from his school days. All four of my cousins – Edina, Lucy, Archie and Johnnie – were with us for the week, along with their mama, my mother’s sister, Maude. And William, too, had a couple of friends staying. For me, everything was as it had always been, only better, because Tom was now with us. If only Henry and some of the others hadn’t been so determined to talk about the possibility of war.
It was towards the end of the day when I yelled across the croquet lawn at Henry and Tom, ‘Please do stop discussing politics! You’re spoiling our game!’ And when I shouted that line at them for a second time, Henry immediately threw down his mallet and said, ‘Someone please help me throw my baby sister into the lake and then we can all have some peace!’
I saw him striding across the lawn towards me and I screamed, dropped my mallet and took off towards the woods. I heardEdina and Lucy shrieking, the boys cheering, and as I raced through the ferns, with Henry hot on my tail, I lost my shoe, tripped and fell.
‘Please don’t, Henry! Please don’t!’
He laughed. ‘Oh, for goodness sake, Issa, do get up. Look at the state of you.’
I could barely breathe. ‘I can’t,’ I gasped. ‘I’ve hurt my ankle.’
As Henry shook his head and walked away, Tom appeared, holding my shoe. He bent down. ‘Which ankle?’ he asked.
‘The left.’
He placed his hand over my white stocking. ‘Here?’
I shook my head.
He moved his hand up over my ankle. ‘Here?’
‘Yes . . . yes there,’ I replied, wiping away a tear.
‘Are you able to stand?’
He took my hand and I let him pull me up. I stood on one foot as he slipped his arm about my waist. ‘Hold on to me,’ he said. I put my arm around his shoulder and tried to walk, but it was too painful and I cried out. ‘There’s only one thing for it, I’m afraid, I shall have to carry you.’ He handed me my shoe, and then picked me up just as though I were a small child.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said, as he strode back through the ferns towards the croquet lawn.
‘Don’t be sorry. Henry shouldn’t have chased you like that. Anyway, I get the chance to have you in my arms,’ he replied, glancing down at me, smiling.
When we emerged from the woods Edina and Lucy came rushing over from the boys, who were standing in a huddle on the lawn with Henry.
Edina said, ‘Oh, darling! Are you very badly hurt?’
‘She’s twisted her ankle,’ Tom replied, in a perfectly calm and assured voice, and Edina looked up at me, raised her eyebrows, and smiled.
Then Will, George, Archie and all the others were around us, all wishing to look at my injured ankle. But Tom didn’t stop. He continued walking across the lawn, then up the steps, on to the terrace, where my mother sat with Maude. When Mama saw us she stood up.
I remained silent in Tom’s arms as he explained to Mama, with Maude standing next to her, exactly what had taken place, and I saw my mother look across the lawn in
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