A House Divided: An Easterleigh Hall Novel Read Online Free PDF Page A

isn’t it? I’m so glad it’s a grand day for your da and mam.’
    ‘They’re really lucky,’ he said, smiling. He liked Annie, who had worked in the kitchens throughout the war, though now she was married to Sir Anthony’s son, Harry, and spent a fair bit of time organising the Neave Wing as well. Perhaps he should talk to her and try to find out exactly how it had been, back then, for his mother when she worked in the laundry?
    Annie smiled and slipped away, back into her area, as a guest placed his empty glass on Tim’s tray and took a full one. Soon others would do the same, if he didn’t keep moving.
    The marquee opened onto the lawn, and he saw Da manning the beer barrel, and heard his laughter, echoed by those all around. They were people Tim had grown up with, families who had lived here for years, and were still farming, still mining, still . . . His smiled faded.
    His mother had said that it must be dreadfully boring for him, and he hadn’t realised until then how true that was. God, he was glad he had an escape route, one leading to Berlin where there were clubs, dancing, excitement, full employment, a country moving forward.
    At the front, in the shade of the marquee, Kevin, the former bootboy, was taking over the beer barrel, which he could manage perfectly with his undamaged hand. Yet another war wound. Tim sighed. Everyone seemed to accept Sir Anthony’s new idea of a Peace committee, even Bridie with her loud mouth, so why couldn’t they see that becoming a fascist meant much the same? Who better to get on well with the Nazis?
    Together the two countries could sort the unions, clear out the Reds looking to Russia for their orders, and anyone else causing trouble. They could then stride ahead, in full employment, and
never
have another war. What about that for a Peace committee? Tim smiled at Uncle Edward, who was still drifting about like a lost soul, and through the entrance he saw Uncle Aub coming across to his friends, duty done, taking a pint himself, deep in conversation with his da. It was all so predictable.
    ‘Penny for them, Tim?’ Young Stan stomped towards him, in his inimitable way.
    Tim shrugged. ‘Oh, just thinking of this and that.’
    His mam came to him now, slipping her arm through his. ‘I’ll walk with you while we deliver this champagne, bonny lad.’ She moved him around the room, talking all the time of her love for him, and for Jack, and how wonderful it had been that he had delayed his holiday with his mother so that he could be here.
    ‘It would have been just awful without you. Infact, I rather think Jack would have cancelled the thing and left me waiting at the altar for another twenty years.’
    She wore her familiar Rose Garden perfume, and her hair was long enough to be coiled over her ears. Well, her one ear; the other had been dislodged by shrapnel in the war. Tim felt his shoulders relax, leaning into her, nudging her slightly as they passed Sister Newsome and Matron, who had arrived in 1914 and were still here. They were clearly squiffy and in need of food, as they giggled quietly at some naughtiness of old Dr Nicholls, who was widowed now, but still a lot of fun.
    Then he sobered, because there they all were, happy, chatty, and where was his mother? Not here, not invited, though they knew he was close to her again. Suddenly he was enormously proud of Millie, for grabbing at a life for herself, and at last he understood why she had left him behind. If she hadn’t gone, she would still be here, drowning in this awful little pool. It was as she had said: one day he would understand, and now the lingering hurt at her leaving him, and the time it had taken her to find him, disappeared, and he was light-hearted.
    ‘Just look at your da.’ His mam was pointing to Jack at the beer barrel, as Uncle Mart and several miners joined the group, including the union rep.
    Tim had seldom seen his da looking so happy. How pathetic it all was. ‘I’d better let you get