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Chapter 1

Last night, Edith dreamed she was at Maberley.
 

Gerald the old grey cat sat by the Aga, leg heavenwards,  absent mindedly licking his shriveled scrotum, surgically emptied by Alexander Canular  B.Sc., M.B., MRCVS,  some twelve years previously. Above the kitchen sink the cold tap dripped onto the stainless steel bowl, its metronomic periodicity  cycling in and out of synchronization with the ageless tick tock of the long case clock in the hall.  Gusting raindrops clamoured manically against the leaded panes and a chilly draught blew under the latch door.  Gerald knew better than make a bid for his lady's lap when she was busy with her needlepoint. In the light of the Inglenook fireplace, bravely  assisted by the low wattage energy saving light bulb in the Homebase table lamp,  Edith Tintwhistle still looked curiously beautiful for a woman in her sixty ninth year. Her long hair, which she had never been able to bring herself to lose, was tightly swept elegantly upwards, like a willow caught in the wind, exposing the slim porcelain neck which  Chuck had kissed from behind her on that balmy night in 1951. Long ago Edith had mastered the stoicism which kept her from courting the sadness and regret of the wasted years.  Yet in the past few weeks since the World's attention had been centered on the 1901 Census fiasco at Great Cockup, the many letters and E mails from across the Atlantic had reminded her of Chuck. Alone in the dim light with her cat, Edith swallowed back a lump in her throat.

In those austere days after the War young Edith had raised many a pulse in the newly demobbed young men of Great Cockup as she cycled around this close knit community, her auburn tresses catching the sunlight of a new era of freedom and her firm calves, encased in silk stockings, pumping up and down on her pedals.  Many suitors had sought to gain the favours of Henry Tintwhistle's pretty daughter but the stern Henry guarded her maidenhood with Medieval fervour. From her first bloom of womanhood at fourteen, Edith had been tightly chaperoned by her mother. the long suffering Charlotte.  There were those who said that Charlotte had risen beyond her station when she, the daughter of a dynasty of blacksmiths, had married Henry. The truth was that in spite of his airs and graces, Henry was born a nub grinder, like his father and his father's father before him. As a very young man, Henry developed a fine sense of opportunism and quickly reached high office in the Nub Grinders' Guild, becoming Treasurer in 1922 and Grand Lodge Master in 1926. Thus when other nub grinders were thrown onto the scrapheap by the Depression and the introduction of thermosetting plastics, Henry was able to purchase a number of tenement buildings on favourable mortgage terms and become a landlord. Indeed many of his tenants were his former comrades at the workbench. With lifelong wealth assured, Henry moved to the country, took up shooting, bought a horse and began to vote Conservative. (However he never managed to break the frugal habit of melting down the small pieces of soap left  on the sink to make a new block; a trick that had saved him one shilling a month for years, the proceeds of which had allowed him to put a deposit on his first tenement). Getting a local girl into trouble had not been in Henry's plans but behind his bluster he was an honest and decent man. Baby Edith was born well inside wedlock and her early arrival described as 'premature', which in a sense it was. Henry would have liked a son but he had not found conceiving Edith a particularly rewarding experience and soon tired of such carnal matters, much to the relief of Mrs Tintwhistle who had tired of Henry's perfunctory treatment of the subject even sooner than  Henry. It wasn't until some three years later, when Henry returned in mellow mood from a good day at the races, that the matter (or anything else) was raised. Then, finding Mrs Tintwhistle conveniently asleep on the settee, Henry celebrated his winnings. Vincent was the result. From that time on, Charlotte developed chronic insomnia.

Edith was a bright girl, and her scholarship pass to the county grammar school at twelve  was no surprise. Keen to get her into Girton College Cambridge, Henry dispatched her to boarding school, Cockup Ladies College, at age sixteen. This, Henry hoped, would free Charlotte from chaperone duties and give his daughter the educational opportunities he had never had for himself. The Ladies College had the great advantage of being outside of walking distance for the idle peasants who had cast their depraved eyes over his daughter's unsullied figure and of course, being 1949, none of the lower orders had a car. Henry had forgotten one factor in the equation - the US Air force Base at Upper Cockup.

As Edith arose from her tapestry to move a burning log that was threatening to fall from the grate, she recalled the surge of urgent pleasure that had welled up through her body as Chuck had come up behind her and squeezed her waist. For a fleeting moment  he had allowed his thumbs to stray slightly, which had sent a quiver of elicit pleasure through her powder blue cashmere jumper. As she had leaned forward, instinctively to protect her honour, the gold crucifix, a present from her father on her eighteenth birthday, had tapped on her breast bone, as if to remind her of the moral danger before her. Chuck had held onto her. This athletic young pilot manfully pulled her to him. Over fifty years later she could still feel his chest against her shoulder blades, his thighs pressed against her, his hot breath on her neck and a hint of chin stubble close to her shoulder. It should have felt wrong but for the first time in her eighteen years, Edith was filled with an ecstasy that took her breath away. How could feeling like this, so close to the angels, possibly be wrong?

A salty tear ran down Edith's cheek,  dripped from her lips and hissed on the hot embers.

Later that July evening in 1951, Chuck had taken Edith for a spin around the country lanes in his Chevrolet. On the radio was an American Forces program presented by Alan Freed , the first 'Disc Jockey' that Edith had ever heard. The music was wild. Chuck had said it was The Black Man's Music and that people in the States were calling it Rock and Roll. She remembered that he had laughed when he said it, because, Chuck told her, it also meant something different. Then he had winked at her as if they were sharing a huge secret and she had tried to wink back. Later they had talked about the Russians, the War in Korea, the recent H bomb test in the Pacific, and the news from the week before that two British Diplomats appeared to have gone to spy for the Russians. She could have listened to this man all night because he talked with you, not at you like her father. Daddy only ever talked about the terrible socialists and the day when Winston Churchill would be back in Downing Street.
 
 

Gerald jumped up on the Welsh dresser to see what Edith was doing. At the back of the drawer was a Bluebird Toffee tin filled with letters, and other small mementos. At the bottom of the tin Edith found what she was looking for. Finding that it was not edible, Gerald sauntered off to wash himself again. Edith had found their cinema ticket stubs. Chuck had taken her to see a Doris Day film at the cinema in town. They had got back to Edith's school very late and had stalked carefully through the bushes. Chuck had kissed her very passionately under the dormitory window. Then he had given her a leg up on the Wisteria vine and had playfully slapped her bottom once he knew she had a firm foothold. Once in the window she had blown him a kiss and slipped quickly and noiselessly between the cold white sheets of her bed where she had lain for hours looking at the moon and wondering if Chuck was doing the same.
 

Edith had been in this lonely place so many many times before. Alone with the noises of the house; so quiet that she could hear Gerald's tongue rasping across his scrotum. The lump in her throat was threatening to choke her. Perhaps it was the stress of recent events at the library, but now all the pain of her years thinking of Chuck was reaching a new and unbearable climax. Edith wept openly and out loud, wailing for her man, wondering if he was still alive, and what he was doing now.
 
 

Edith had been down to the post office for a stamp to write to her father and mother. In her school uniform she looked like little more than a child when Chuck drew up in his Chevrolet and invited her to hop in. Edith quickly and instinctively checked that she hadn't been seen and got into the car. She knew that she was risking expulsion, disgrace, and the loss of her university place.

She was not prepared for what Chuck told her; that he was going home to Cincinnati in Ohio, 'Where Doris Day comes from,' he said cheerfully, not noticing her numb horror and disbelief.

"Aw come on honey", he said. "We had some good times foolin' around an' I sure taught you a thing or to about Rock and Roll!"
 

Supporting herself against the dresser, her old heart aching, Edith reflected that to this day she could not remember what she had replied, but from Chuck's amused response, she had always believed that she had announced her intention to marry him and go back to the States.

Chuck had laughed and had told her that he was going back to his girl back home. He became flippant and added,
"Who knows what then? Bombing the Koreans or bombing the Russians before they bomb us back".

Suddenly this man she loved with all her heart seemed different. Cruel, cold and dispassionate like her father. Yet Edith knew of the love and tenderness Chuck was capable of, and swore in her heart to love him forever.
 

Chapter  2

"Chuck, you sure are the dangedest fool I ever met!  If I had a gal like that Edie, I sure as hell’d hang on to her,  never mind what my folks say."
"Jimmy, you know I can’t do that. I  gotta  marry Dolores. Pop is counting on me. We been lined up for each other all our lives. Pop and her father have been partners forever. And Edie’s too decent a gal for anything but marrying"
Jimmy regarded Chuck thoughtfully.
" Well, I wouldn’t marry Dolores Hackenstack for all her money ? she’ll bring you nuthin’ but grief. She’s a no-good spoilt brat and no mistake.
Does Edith know how you feel about her? Don’t she have no say in any of this?"
Chuck shook his head sadly,
"Hell, I dunno, Jimmy. Right now she hates me. I made out  I ‘d just been havin’ a good time with her."
Jimmy looked shocked.
"You can’t let her think that! You’ll break her goddam heart!"

Edith lay awake and alone in her chaste, narrow bed. The great orb of the harvest moon hung on an inky sky, framed in the open window. She had no tears left for now. The only sound was of her room-mate, Felicity, stirring in her sleep. As Edith lay, a rustling sound came to her ears and, suddenly, a familiar figure was silhouetted against the great moon.
"Edith!" came an urgent whisper "Oh! My Edith!"
Chuck fell to his knees beside her bed, burying his anguished face in her heaving bosom.
"I had to come! I couldn’t leave you this way! I love you Edith!"
The silver moonlight danced on his dear golden head and Edith felt a surge of joy such as she had never known. She gathered him in her arms.  As he raised his face their eyes met in a long, lingering look. With a great sigh, he crushed his mouth to hers……..
As they embraced, the long, sleek hardness of  the first bombers leaving  rose over them, the deep throbbing of their great engines echoing the pounding of his blood and the tumult in her heart.

Later, he told her about Dolores. Edith understood duty. He was promised to another. His father and sick mother and seven brothers and sisters and 259 workers depended on him and on Dolores’ money….
But it was hard, so very hard…..
Once again he pulled her to him, his hands stoking her hair, his lips seeking hers…
"I will wait for you" she whispered in the velvet darkness
"No, Edith, no!  I must go and you must forget me!"

And he was gone.

A great cry of anguish leapt from Edith’s throat and tears of agony burst from her. She threw herself toward the open window.
Hands grasped her flying nightdress and dragged her back from the brink.
Felicity held her tight.
Turning, Edith sobbed brokenly in her friend’s arms.
Felicity led her gently back to bed and lay with her all through the long terrible night.
As dawn broke, Edith arose a woman, her girlhood gone, a new dignity to her bearing, the sparkle in her eyes forever dimmed.

Chapter 3

As the train wheezed and ground up the long valley, Edith stared out of the grimy window at the wintry landscape.
Felicity leaned across and took her hand.
"You’ll be fine with Aunt Mab. She is a thoroughly decent sort. She’ll take good care of you."
Edith brought her attention back to Felicity with an effort.
"Yes, I know. I always enjoyed our childhood visits to Lord and Lady Maberley…..But this will be my first Christmas away from home…"
She bit back a tear and returned her gaze to the window.
Her mind began to replay, yet again, the events of these last months.
Her queasy tummy, her dizzy spells…Felicity asking her, bluntly, one day, if her monthlies had stopped. Her embarrassment and horror when Felicity had said
"You silly goose, hasn’t it occurred to you that you might be in the pudding club?"
And so it was.
The dreadful day when she was forced to tell her father.  His outrage and fury. Her flight from the house to the only person she could trust? her friend Felicity.
Dear Felicity had, as ever, been sensible and practical. Before she knew what was happening, Edith found herself on the train to Maberley Castle,  oop north,  the family seat of an old friend of Felicity’s mother. She was to be, she was told, a young "widow", retreating to bear her grief and her child away from prying eyes.
Edith did not question, too steeped in misery to ask what was to become of her or her child afterwards.
She vaguely remembered Felicity warning her that all was not as it used to be at Maberley Castle. Young Freddie, the only child and heir, had been brought home from the war with terrible injuries and had never quite been the same since. Felicity had told her in a hushed voice, that she had heard that he had had  his bits blown to bits  in a dogfight over the English Channel with a German ME 109 and would never father an heir to the Maberley fortune which would now go to a hated cousin  who was already telling everyone that he planned to turn the Castle into an  Eee-Bah-Goom Theme Park.

"We’re here."
Felicity’s bright voice interrupted her reverie.
The old train puffed into the little country station with a squeal of wheels and the hiss of steam.
The two young women alighted to an ancient waiting Bentley. Jabbers, the octagenarian chauffer in his threadbare uniform, tugged at an imaginary forelock and then, with a sob and a tear in his eye, hugged a startled Edith.
"Beggin’ your pardon, ma-am. Don’t ee fret now- we all knows who yous are and why yous here. No, we’m delighted. and there is great excitement throughout the estate."
He ushered them into the dusty interior of the car. Edith and Felicity exchanged puzzled looks. Neither could guess what all that had been about.
Maberley Castle stood in all its ancient splendour in the lee of the dale overlooking small, enclosed fields full of sheep, rising to wild heather clad moors. Behind the house the grounds sloped away to a sullen and angry North Sea.

As the car crunched over the gravel before the great sweeping stone steps of the grand entrance of  Maberley Castle, Edith could see that there was a welcoming committee.
Jabbers staggered hurriedly round to open the door.
Taken aback, Edith found herself faced by the entire Maberley family and a gaggle of servants. Freddie, once dashing and handsome, now looked somewhat embarrassed and sheepish, leaning on his stick. The look was reflected on the faces of his parents, though they broke into smiles at the sight of Edith and hurried forward to hug and kiss her.
"Welcome, my dear" boomed Lord Maberley. "Come in, come in!"
He swept her up the stairs past the servants who  beamed and  bowed and curtsied.
"What a welcome!" cried Felicity as they arrived inside.
"We’ll, hurrumph, explain later, when you’re settled in, don’t you know." Lord Maberley said hastily, and summoned a hovering manservant to show them to their rooms.
"Welcome, Milady" he said as he laid her bags down. "Imagine - young Freddie bringing home a bride! And with a little one on the way already! We never thought we’d see the day. It just goes to show you shouldn’t listen to gossip!"

Chapter 4

As the new young Queen lifted her proud head to receive the crown of the realm, Marchmont  Maberley gave his first lusty cry, born to a life of doting and luxury.
Edith had been treated no less royally than the young Elizabeth.
Freddie Maberley had promptly fallen in love with Edith and begged her to make the play a reality. He was a sweet, generous man and, briefly, Edith was tempted. But  always there was Chuck. Late at night, alone in the great four poster bed, Edith would lie awake reliving their one night of passion. No word had come from across the Ocean. She could only assume that he had married Dolores. And yet…and yet…hope burned in her breast. She had sworn to wait for him and wait she would. One day he would return and she must be free when that day came.
When little Marchmont was a year old, Edith fulfilled  her father’s wish and her own ambition by being accepted for Girton College, Cambridge. When she gained her degree, she returned to her former life in Great Cockup
She never returned to Maberley.  The grief stricken community believed her lost in a plane crash over Mongolia.

Chapter 5

Gerald had all but licked his scrotum away and Edith’s tears had dried upon her soft sweet face. She knew that Marchmont was married now with children of his own. Dear Felicity still went to Maberley Castle occasionally where Edith had never been forgotten.
In her heart, Edith still waits for Chuck. The memories are a little threadbare now ? worn thin and soft by age and constant stroking, like old  Gerald’s fur.

Chapter 6

Chuck turned his B-26 to face down the runway and waited for the dimly lit control tower to clear him for takeoff. The word came. Chuck opened the throttles.  With a throaty roar the trusty old kite raced towards the silhouetted hangars at the far end of the airfield, bumping its way over tarmac that had seen better days, on a field that would soon be returned to ploughshares.
The noise from the wheels on the tarmac  ceased abruptly and the passage forward became smooth. The baby was clear of the ground and over the trees of Cockup Chase. Chuck dipped his port wing and banked sharply, taking in a final look at  USAF Lower Cockup. The boys were going home, with mixed feelings, from a country at peace back to the uncertainty of a country at war.
Chuck couldn't look towards the lights of Cockup Ladies College, where he knew that his love would be listening to the planes leaving for the last time and counting them into the sky. He had told Edith that the fifth plane leaving would be his but he couldn't think too hard about her now, he had a plane to fly.
Chuck thought about what Jimmy had said to him earliest that day when they waited for their flight orders.
"C'mon ole buddy," Jimmy had said, "The girl's young. We all get our hearts broken a few times. She'll survive".
"Jeeze Jimmy, you've changed your tune!" Chuck had shouted,  "It's not five minutes since you were try to persuade me to ditch Dolores and take Edie for my bride!"
"Yeah but then you told me that this Edie girl is too clever for you - off to Cambridge, England, University next year. You said yourself that she could live to regret meeting you if she missed that chance. Either way one dame is gonna get hurt whichever way you chose. Dolores ain't so bad and her Pa would make a fearsome enemy to have back home."

Chuck needed to talk to his navigator, to take his mind from Edith.
"Y'know Jimmy," called Chuck into the microphone that was part of his helmet, "There have been guys I've served with over the past few years who don't give a damn about who they hurt - over."
"Who you got in mind? -over" asked Jimmy.
"Well take that Chuck Assenberger. Do you remember him fooling around with that kid in Australia? Nice kid; Phyllis I think she was called.  He didn't give a flying damn what happened to her. Now I ain't that sorta guy. Why if I thought I'd left my little Edie pregnant... well I don't think I could ever forgive myself -over.
"Assenberger?......Charles... " recollected Jimmy. " Say wasn't he the guy who tried to fly that light trainer under the electricity pylons for a bet? -over"
"Yes" said Chuck "Over".
"Did he survive? - over"
"I guess he did", laughed Chuck, "Apart from leaving his nuts forever in a tall hawthorne hedge. -over and out"

Chuck and the rest of his squadron banked sharply over the Mersey estuary and they headed out over the Irish sea.
"Bye Edie my love," whispered Chuck. "I'll remember you always."
 
 
 

As each new bomber droned overhead, Edith lay with her crumpled face buried in her tear stained pillow, tightening an extra finger around her sodden handkerchief with each passing plane. As the fifth plane passed overhead she gripped so hard that her nails pressed into her palms until they bled, and she bathed the crescent shaped marks with the salt of her tears.
 
 

TO BE CONTINUED

Library
Letters to Edith
Letters to Felicity
Toadblower Saga
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Crossword
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