‘I have to do it carefully, I have to make sure I don’t tear it,’ said Gracie, her fingers trembling.
‘We’ll still be waiting this time next year at this rate,’ said Paul and everyone chuckled.
‘I want the moment to last forever,’ said Gracie and she looked at everyone watching her as she pulled out the letter.
Paul picked up the envelope as it fluttered to the floor and turned it over. ‘That’s the royal insignia all right. Who’d have thought?’
The letter was on thick creamy paper, folded into three equal parts. Gracie carefully unfolded it.
She held it up and showed it to everyone like her teacher did with picture books, making sure even those crammed in the corners of the room could take time to see. Everyone took a deep breath. Even if it hadn’t had a message on it, the letter was magnificent.
At the top of the page were two lions: a golden lion wearing a crown and a lion on the other side wearing red pants. The lions stood in a field of green grass and white flowers. Between the two lions was a large gold and red crown, from which hung a banner, and they were all encircled with a blue wreath.
When everyone had seen how beautiful the letter was, Gracie began to read:
Dear Miss Cottingham,
I wish to mark by this personal message my appreciation of the service your sister has rendered your Country. I have read of the cases of Bovril your sister is sending to the soldiers in the trenches.
I can fully realise how comforting your sister’s work must prove, especially during the cold and damp weather, and I heartily congratulate your sister on the happy thought which prompted her to initiate such a useful project.
Your parents must be very proud, firstly of your sister, who is able to put the needs of our soldiers who fight for our freedom uppermost in her mind, and secondly they must be proud of your so unselfishly commending your sister to our attention.
Yours sincerely,
Mary R, 1st October 1915
Gracie passed the letter to Paul. Edie was dying to read it for herself but because the letter was about her, she held off; she didn’t want to seem vain. She got up to start clearing some dishes, pretending that she wasn’t concerned about the Queen’s letter and that she wasn’t completely puffed with pride and there weren’t any tears in her eyes and her heart wasn’t completely and utterly spilling over with the love she had for Gracie. As she looked over at her sister, Gracie beamed at her.
‘Even the Queen recognises how kind and generous you are, Edie. We should have it framed, Papa.’
Edie looked at everyone looking at her, ‘It’s only a letter,’ she said, uncomfortable being the focus of everyone’s attention.
‘It’s only Bovril,’ said Paul, ‘but if it saves even one young man’s life, it’s pure gold.’
Edie thought of the man whose life she wanted to save. Was Theo getting her Bovril? Would a hot cup steaming with love save him and bring him home safely?
After everyone had thanked Paul for his hospitality and began to file back up the stairs, Edie saw Laidlaw whispering to Gracie and she wandered over pretending to clean up where she could hear.
‘He built it all for you, love,’ he whispered, and Gracie whispered back, ‘I know’ just like she had when he said it in the street.
Then she said, ‘Built what?’
Laidlaw said, ‘This magnificent underground house that is the talk of the town. He built it for you to keep you cool in the hot summers when you were but a wee thing.’
Gracie looked around the room, at the flickering fairy lights strung along the tops of the walls, at the photo of her beautiful mother on the wall, at Edie who had been her real mother.
‘Really?’ she said, and Edie nodded and Gracie smiled her smile and Laidlaw flicked one of her curls.
When everyone was back in their own homes sitting on their verandahs drinking beer or fanning their faces in the cool evening breeze, they all agreed it had been a delightful afternoon and completely unexpected and what a sensible idea an underground house was, but best of all was the letter.
Fancy that, the town getting a letter from the Queen.
As Christmas was approaching, everyone agreed that practical gifts were essential given the war and not too much tinsel. Lilly sent her regular weekly gift box to Theo: she put in a Christmas cake, some shortbread and a jumper she had knitted in the colours of the flag. Lilly didn’t know that her packages to Theo went missing more often than not and that the soldiers complained that the packages went from Australia to London and back again and God only knew how many months they spent traversing the globe before they were likely to reach them.
Part Three
Twenty-Eight
The Soldier
Friday, 17 December 1915, Cape Helles, on the Sea of Helle, Turkey, where the blood of men and boys turns the sea red.
Theo was squatting at the bottom of a trench, his feet sunk into the river of mud which seeped over the tops of his boots and oozed around his toes. His hands were knotted tightly over his stomach. He was sure he had eaten nothing for months except hard tack biscuits and black tea. The Turks’ trenches were forty feet away. Sometimes the Turks threw raisins or sweets that Theo didn’t recognise into the Australian trenches, and in return Theo threw his cigarettes back to them because he didn’t smoke anyway.
Theo was so hungry that his stomach had shrivelled into a hard stone inside him. There hadn’t even been tins of that God-awful Maconochie stew, which was no more than watery soup with slices of turnips and carrots and a sludge of greasy fat at the bottom of the tin. He threw those to the Turks too, good riddance to
