“I’m sad to have lost their friendship. When I think of Eddie and Frank in the war, being good friends, I wish it had worked out differently.” In some ways, Evelyn felt it was a disservice to her brother and his captain to have not worked harder on continuing a friendship with the Graingers.
“Perhaps you’ll be friends with them again. Although I don’t know how they’ll cope with your choice of bedfellow.”
Evelyn smiled. “I don’t care how they cope with it, really.”
Jos smiled in return. “I’m pleased. I was awfully frightened you wouldn’t like being different, you know. Disapproved of by so many people.”
“I think I’ve always been disapproved of,” Evelyn replied. “At least now I get to be with you when it happens.”
“You know, I don’t think it matters that much that you’re not friends with Lilian. Your Eddie and Frank, their friendship was sparked by the war. And that’s over now,” Jos said reflectively.
“It’s funny though, isn’t it?” Evelyn replied. “In some ways it seems like it’s never over. It’s still claiming people. It’s still driving us all crazy with the desire to fill our lives before they’re snatched away. In some ways, it’s made us all dream of something more than we have.”
“Well, I’m tired of being so awfully modern,” Jos said, with a grin. “I don’t need to dream about anything and pursue the next thrill. I have you, Evie.”
Evelyn was filled with pure joy. Now, finally, she was flying high. “You think I’m thrilling?” she teased.
“Yes, I do,” Jos said. “In oh-so-many ways. And I look forward to next thrill.”
“Me too,” said Evelyn, resting her head on Jos’s shoulder, knowing there was so much more to come.
Author’s Note
All the characters in this novel are from my imagination. However, the world in which they live draws very heavily on the reality of inter-war London. The places are fictionalised versions of real places—you should be able to follow Evie’s route around London on a street map. I won’t claim I’ve represented a minutely accurate picture of London in the Roaring Twenties, but I’ve tried to be as faithful to the details as possible. The Park Lane Hotel existed—and still does—as, of course, do the attractions of London and the streets of Mayfair, much the same then, outwardly, as they are today.
The publications referred to are all real. These include The Well of Loneliness by Radclyffe Hall, discussed at Clara and Courtney’s party, which was indeed published in 1928 and then prosecuted for obscenity for daring to portray a lesbian relationship. Ideal Marriage: Its Physiology and Technique is a real self-help sex manual by Theodoor Hendrik van de Velde published in 1926, with revised editions in 1965 and 2000.
My story refers to the real events of the First World War—the Great War, as it was known—such as the battle at Valenciennes, which really took place in November 1918. In the four years between 1914 and 1918, there were approximately 888,000 British and Commonwealth military deaths and 124,000 British and Commonwealth civilian deaths. Over one and a half million soldiers returned wounded, a large number of them suffering, as Edward did, from shell shock. Today this ill-defined condition is usually acknowledged to be a form of post-traumatic stress disorder, but at the time was generally seen as a form of insanity or symptom of underlying weakness or cowardice.
The huge impact of the Great War on all levels of British society was undoubtedly a significant turning point and a cataclysm which was still causing tremors at the end of the next decade. A generation of young men had been lost, their families and lovers left grieving. Soldiers were still dying of the after-effects of the conflict, or living with the disabilities it caused, throughout the 1920s. Although the British experience of the 1920s took many of its cues from the American jazz age, the liberated, decadent pursuit of happiness is also the flip side of a country that thought it knew itself attempting to recover and questioning itself for the first time in generations. The old certainties of the class system and Empire were fading with memories of the Victorian age, separated from the new generation by the horror of the war.
About the Author
Born in Nottingham, England, Rebecca S. Buck now lives just outside the city with her partner, slowly renovating their Victorian house. Her day job is in the museums and heritage sector, where she specializes in education and engagement. Her first novel, Truths, was published in 2010. Her second, Ghosts of Winter, was shortlisted for a Lambda Literary Award. History is her passion, but she’s also a big fan of travel, where every new place visited presents a new setting for a story.
Find her on Twitter: @rsbuck
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