The Daisy Club Read Online Free PDF

table.
    â€˜As you all must now realise, this meeting was meant to be at Twistleton Golf Club, but looking round I see you were all commendably more realistic than I was, and redirected yourselves here, knowing as you obviously do that the members of Twistleton Golf Club do not recognise the existence of the opposite sex – it seems they were all born of men.’
    A surge of laughter greeted this statement.
    â€˜Now, we must get on with the lecture, but first of all – gas masks.’
    â€˜Oh, dear, I think I will faint if we have to wear one of those all the time,’ Aurelia moaned.
    Laura stared ahead at the demonstration on the stage. Somehow, even up until this last week, despite all the talk in previous years – perhaps because of it – war had seemed really quite remote. A little like a thunderstorm raging fifteen or twenty miles away, but which still might miss where you happened to be living. But now, seeing the goodly people on the stage with their gas masks on, it was a dreadful reality for the first time, although thankfully very far away from the ballrooms and elegant townhouses she had left behind in London, where everyone seemed to be still pretending that war would never, ever happen, and nothing would come between them and their social lives.
    Even so, surely something would happen to prevent it? Surely someone would put up a hand, or blow a whistle, and cry, ‘Enough of this dangerous carry-on! Of course we are not all going to kill each other again when hardly twenty years have gone by since we were all burying our dear ones? Please, please, please not.’
    At that moment the door of the hall was flung open, and everyone turned.
    Jessica looked down the room, and smiled, albeit a little wearily.
    â€˜Good evening, Jean . . .’
    The tall young girl with a mass of shining dark curly hair and strangely cat-like green eyes limped up the side of the hall, her progress followed with great interest by the rest of the gathering.
    â€˜I’m so sorry, Miss Valentyne, I didn’t realise that the brakes on my bicycle were completely bished.’ She turned first one grazed elbow round, and then the other, and stared at them with detached interest. ‘But I do now.’
    â€˜Obviously, Jean, but just so long as you are all right.’ Jessica frowned. ‘As a matter of fact you can come up to the stage, if you would, because seeing that you are so conveniently covered in cuts and bruises, I think we will find we can put you to jolly good use.’
    To the sound of appreciative laughter Jean limped up on to the stage, and proceeded to stare with some interest at the array of gas masks on the table.
    â€˜Do you want me to put one of these on, Miss Valentyne?’
    Jessica shook her head.
    â€˜No, dear, we want you to lie down so we can bandage you.’
    Without more ado Jean prepared to lie down on the floor.
    â€˜Shouldn’t we put some sort of sheeting underneath her—’ Blossom demanded from the side of the stage, raising her voice above the sound of the dogs yapping at Jean.
    â€˜No point now, Miss Blossom,’ Jean called to her cheerfully. ‘My clothes are wrecked anyway.’
    She promptly lay down on the floor, putting her arms under her head, smiling up at Jessica.
    For her part Jessica stared down at the long-limbed girl with her wild dark curls. Of course, and it was only natural, this was just a game to Jean, but to Jessica it was reality. Here was yet another generation, another set of young people, going gaily into war, as if it was some sort of a game. All of a sudden an unwanted memory came back to her. She remembered writing teasingly to Esmond in about 1915, ‘ I bet you are all having a grand time of it in France! ’
    How could she have written that? What a fool, what a silly, silly fool.
    But they didn’t know, they just didn’t know, not until much later. They knew nothing of the stinking