narrow shoulders, Mr Cazalet had had his uniform made. We can’t all be the same, he thought miserably.
He looked at the case with his stuff in it lying on the floor still not unpacked. He’d do that tomorrow. He wouldn’t think about
any of that
, except, now, he was glad he
hadn’t told Mabel – as he privately called her. She respected him, looked up to him, as a woman should; it felt quite natural when he was with her. As he got into bed he realised that
he hadn’t got a home any more – not with that man in it – and then he thought this was his home, where the family was; always had been. He thought he’d lie awake, with his
insides churning, but the Bakewell tarts had settled his stomach, and he was asleep before he knew it. And that was the last day before the war.
When Mr Chamberlain had finished, and the children had been sent out of the room, the Brig suggested that he and his sons – and Raymond, of course – should repair to
his study to discuss plans, but the Duchy said no, if plans were to be discussed she thought that everyone should be present to discuss them. She said it with such surprising asperity that he gave
way at once. Everybody settled down; Miss Milliment wondered quietly whether they would like her to leave, but nobody seemed to hear her, so she crossed her ankles and looked rather anxiously at
her shoes, the laces of which had already come undone. The Brig, who had lit his pipe very slowly, now said that obviously everybody should stay put: the London houses could be closed, or possibly
all but one . . . ‘What about the children’s schools?’ Villy and Sybil said at once. Surely they would remain open – they were in the country, after all, and it would be a
pity to interrupt their education. It was decided that Villy should ring Teddy’s and Simon’s school, and that Jessica would find out about Christopher’s school and whether the
domestic science establishment attended by Nora and Louise was to continue or not. There was then a pause, eventually broken by Villy, who said what about the Babies’ Hotel? She didn’t
think the nurses could get through the winter in the squash court: the glass in the roof would make it perishing cold, apart from the fact that the poor things had no real facilities for washing or
keeping their clothes, ‘Or even anywhere to be when they aren’t working,’ she added. The Brig said that he’d been considering modifications to the squash court that would
deal with all that, but the Duchy said sharply that it was out of the question to modify a place that people were having to sleep in. There was a silence; everyone recognised that she was upset,
but only Rachel knew why. Raymond then announced that kind though they all were, he and Jessica and their brood had a perfectly good house of their own at Frensham which they would repair to, as
they had always been going to do, in a week’s time. Rupert said that he was going to have a crack at joining the Navy, and he knew that Edward had made his arrangements; Hugh would be in
London, the older boys and girls at school, so why couldn’t they let the nurses have Pear Tree Cottage and all live here at Home Place? This idea, while it seemed to have no valid objection,
met with covert resistance. Neither Sybil nor Villy relished the idea of having no household of their own; the Duchy had serious misgivings about whether Mrs Cripps would stand the numbers to cook
for; Rachel felt anxiety about turning her sisters-in-law out of their house for her – Rachel’s – charity, and the Brig did not wish to be baulked of his ingenious schemes
regarding the squash court. Nobody voiced their reservations, and when the Duchy had said that they would cross that bridge when they came to it, some of them felt able to acknowledge the scheme as
a good idea. Rachel then said that she and Sid
must
get back to Mill Farm where they had been in the midst of unpacking and settling in Matron and the
He looked at the case with his stuff in it lying on the floor still not unpacked. He’d do that tomorrow. He wouldn’t think about
any of that
, except, now, he was glad he
hadn’t told Mabel – as he privately called her. She respected him, looked up to him, as a woman should; it felt quite natural when he was with her. As he got into bed he realised that
he hadn’t got a home any more – not with that man in it – and then he thought this was his home, where the family was; always had been. He thought he’d lie awake, with his
insides churning, but the Bakewell tarts had settled his stomach, and he was asleep before he knew it. And that was the last day before the war.
When Mr Chamberlain had finished, and the children had been sent out of the room, the Brig suggested that he and his sons – and Raymond, of course – should repair to
his study to discuss plans, but the Duchy said no, if plans were to be discussed she thought that everyone should be present to discuss them. She said it with such surprising asperity that he gave
way at once. Everybody settled down; Miss Milliment wondered quietly whether they would like her to leave, but nobody seemed to hear her, so she crossed her ankles and looked rather anxiously at
her shoes, the laces of which had already come undone. The Brig, who had lit his pipe very slowly, now said that obviously everybody should stay put: the London houses could be closed, or possibly
all but one . . . ‘What about the children’s schools?’ Villy and Sybil said at once. Surely they would remain open – they were in the country, after all, and it would be a
pity to interrupt their education. It was decided that Villy should ring Teddy’s and Simon’s school, and that Jessica would find out about Christopher’s school and whether the
domestic science establishment attended by Nora and Louise was to continue or not. There was then a pause, eventually broken by Villy, who said what about the Babies’ Hotel? She didn’t
think the nurses could get through the winter in the squash court: the glass in the roof would make it perishing cold, apart from the fact that the poor things had no real facilities for washing or
keeping their clothes, ‘Or even anywhere to be when they aren’t working,’ she added. The Brig said that he’d been considering modifications to the squash court that would
deal with all that, but the Duchy said sharply that it was out of the question to modify a place that people were having to sleep in. There was a silence; everyone recognised that she was upset,
but only Rachel knew why. Raymond then announced that kind though they all were, he and Jessica and their brood had a perfectly good house of their own at Frensham which they would repair to, as
they had always been going to do, in a week’s time. Rupert said that he was going to have a crack at joining the Navy, and he knew that Edward had made his arrangements; Hugh would be in
London, the older boys and girls at school, so why couldn’t they let the nurses have Pear Tree Cottage and all live here at Home Place? This idea, while it seemed to have no valid objection,
met with covert resistance. Neither Sybil nor Villy relished the idea of having no household of their own; the Duchy had serious misgivings about whether Mrs Cripps would stand the numbers to cook
for; Rachel felt anxiety about turning her sisters-in-law out of their house for her – Rachel’s – charity, and the Brig did not wish to be baulked of his ingenious schemes
regarding the squash court. Nobody voiced their reservations, and when the Duchy had said that they would cross that bridge when they came to it, some of them felt able to acknowledge the scheme as
a good idea. Rachel then said that she and Sid
must
get back to Mill Farm where they had been in the midst of unpacking and settling in Matron and the
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