Violet opened her mouth to protest, but Elizabeth forestalled her. “Martin, when were you in the kitchen asking for wine?”
“At the wedding, madam.”
“Yes, Martin. I understand that. I meant about what time was it?”
“I didn’t look at the clock. It was when those silly women were making such a fuss about the knife to cut the wedding cake.” Martin shook the newspaper then turned the page. “I was looking for something to drink with my food. It’s not good for the digestion, to eat without drinking something. All I could see was champagne and that disgusting cider, so I went into the kitchen to see if they had a bottle of wine.”
“And that’s when you saw the gentleman?”
“Yes, madam.”
“What was he doing?”
Martin gave her a puzzled look. “Doing?”
“Well, was he just standing there, was he by the cellar door, was he at the sink?”
“Actually, madam, he was on his way out. He seemed in rather a hurry. He was quite abrupt when I asked him about the wine. I apologized for bothering him and said I would look in the cellar for a bottle, but he became quite agitated. He was most emphatic about there not being any wine down there. He actually escorted me out of that kitchen, rather rudely in my opinion. I had to settle for some insipid tea that the bakery woman had made earlier. The most I can say for that is that it was wet.”
Elizabeth barely heard his last comments. “This gentleman. Was he tall, rather stout, with graying hair?”
Martin nodded. “Yes, madam. That’s the chap. I think he was with the leggy bridesmaid. Good-looking woman, for her age.”
Violet huffed out her breath but Elizabeth ignored her. “Of course,” she said softly. “I should have known.”
Martin looked confused. “I beg your pardon?”
“Never mind.” Elizabeth got up from the table. “Violet, I’m going to Priscilla’s flat. I have the proofs from the wedding and I need to drop them off there.”
Martin began struggling to his feet, muttering something under his breath.
“Can’t I see them first?” Violet wiped her hands on her apron. “If I remember rightly, I had a nice one taken with Charlie.”
Elizabeth stared at her, intrigued to see her housekeeper blushing. “Why, Violet, I do believe you’re beginning to care for Charlie Gibbons. Are you going out with him again?”
Violet did her best to appear unconcerned, but the fluttering of her hands gave her away. “As a matter of fact, Mr. Gibbons is thinking of moving to Sitting Marsh. He likes the village and the people here, and it will mean he’ll be close to his brother and his new sister-in-law.”
Elizabeth smiled. “How nice for you, Violet. It’s about time you had a gentleman friend. Everyone needs someone to care for and cherish.”
Martin, who had finally steadied himself on his feet, sniffed. “Now, I suppose, we shall have to listen to a lot of sentimental drivel about gentleman friends and clandestine rendezvous.”
“Better than listening to you bleat about your lottery lady,” Violet snapped.
Fortunately the telephone rang, putting an end to what might have been a lengthy argument. Violet picked up the telephone and spoke into it.
Elizabeth waited, hoping against hope, yet afraid to expect too much.
Violet pulled the receiver away from her ear and looked at her. “It’s your major.”
Fighting to hide her apprehension, Elizabeth took the telephone and murmured a breathless, “Earl? Is everything all right?”
His rich voice reassured her. “Everything’s fine. I just thought you’d like to know what your kidnappers were up to at the base last night.”
“Oh, dear.” Elizabeth pressed the receiver to her ear and tried to forget there were others in the room. “I hope they didn’t do too much damage.”
“They burned down the rec room. According to the note they left, their girlfriends had abandoned them in favor of GIs, and they weren’t too happy about it.”
“Oh, Lord. I am so sorry, Earl. Is it at all salvageable?”
“Not much of it. We’ll have to rebuild. The guys are going to miss that place. Those little thugs couldn’t have picked a better payback.”
“It’s a shame. Nobody deserved that.”
“There’s something else you need to know.”
Something in his voice warned her. “What is it?”
“There’s some heavy hush-hush meetings going on. Everyone’s being confined to the base. It may be a week or so before I can leave.”
She swallowed. “Is it the invasion?”
“Elizabeth-”
“I know, you can’t tell me. I shouldn’t have asked.”
“I’ll be back just as soon as I can. You know that.”
“Yes, I do.” She pulled in her breath. “God speed, Earl. Take care of yourself.”
“I’ll be fine. I’m still carrying your scarf, by the way. The one you gave me when I left last year. It goes everywhere with me.”
Somehow she wasn’t consoled by that. It was the first time he’d mentioned it since he’d been back. It sounded like an omen. “I’m glad to hear that. I pray it will keep you safe.”
“It has so far.” He lowered his voice. “I have to go. I’ll call when I can.”
She nodded, even though he couldn’t see her. Unable to trust her voice for more than a couple of words, she said quickly, “Till we meet again.”
“So long, sweetheart.”
She replaced the receiver, already feeling the loss. “Don’t hold off lunch for me,” she told Violet, as she headed for the door. “I might be late. I’ll bring back some fish and chips.”
“Fish and chips!”
Martin looked so hopeful she had to smile. “All right, I’ll bring them back for all of us. Though you might have to wait a bit longer. The girls might not like that.”
“The girls are servants, madam. They’ll do as they’re told.”
“Don’t tell them that.” Elizabeth reached the door and opened it. “Polly informed me that domestics, as they are now called, don’t like being referred to as servants.”
“It was good enough for their forefathers, it’s good enough for them today.”
“I’m afraid not, Martin.” Elizabeth sent him an affectionate smile. “The world is changing, whether we like it or not. We will have to change with it.”
Martin drew himself up as straight as his bowed shoulders allowed. “Never! There will always be an England, as long as we defend her shores and carry on her traditions!”
“Oh, Gawd, now he’ll start caterwauling,” Violet muttered, giving him a dirty look.
Elizabeth closed the door behind her, her smile fading. Traditions. How many was she breaking with her passion for Earl Monroe? How many more would she break before it was over? It was something she couldn’t think about now.
She hurried outside, disheartened by the sight of a clear blue sky. Once she had loved the good weather, so rare in that part of the country. But that was before the war. Before clear skies allowed airplanes to fly, taking courageous young men into danger and, far too often, to their deaths.
Astride her motorcycle, she roared down the hill to the High Street. Pulling up outside the police station, she was relieved to see George and Sid’s bicycles leaning against the wall. She had made a promise to Earl, and this time she would keep it.
She found George at his desk as usual and quickly explained why she needed him with her.
“Right,” he said, when she was finished. Raising his voice, he called out, “Sid, take over here. I have some business to take care of with her ladyship.”
“You found the boys that burned down the Yanks’ gym?” Sid asked, as he emerged from the back room.
“I’m afraid not.” Elizabeth exchanged glances with George. “They are somewhere in North Horsham, I
