A Family's Duty (29 page)

‘But if she’s so upset – and her mother’s told me to keep away—’

‘Hang on, I’ll give her a ring at her Everham office, and ask if I can come over and speak to her – and you’d better come over as well, old son!’

When Rebecca saw her brother and Geoffrey Bannister come into the WLA office in the fading December light, it was as if a pent-up dam was released in her heart, and she burst into tears. Paul held her in his arms and gently pacified her, then released her to Bannister. She learnt that there was no need to tell him about Stefano, whose last letter had mentioned his forthcoming marriage to Emilia.

‘I knew he wouldn’t write again, but I was angry with my parents, and didn’t tell them,’ she confessed. ‘I know I should have done, and I know Stefano was right, but it was just that – oh, Geoffrey—’ Her tears gushed forth again, and he tenderly drew her head down onto his shoulder. Paul gave him a thumbs-up sign, and quietly left the office.

‘I know, Rebecca, I know, it was very hard losing such a splendid man – an honourable man. It’s been a long, long time since I first loved you before the war, and it’s changed us all – but I love you still, and I’ll wait for as long as it takes for you to recover. Don’t worry, my love, don’t worry.’ He stroked her hair as he spoke, and she gradually quietened. Paul came in to say briefly that he was returning to the Manor, and told them to follow in about an hour’s time. ‘To give me a chance to prepare the ground and get the red carpet out,’ he said with a wink, though privately he sent up a heartfelt prayer of thanks.

On Christmas Eve at Hassett Manor the Nevilles welcomed Mr and Mrs Bannister and their son Geoffrey from Shaftesbury, to share their festivities. It was decided that only Paul would attend the midnight Holy Communion service, but that they would all go to St Peter’s on Christmas morning, as a family.

Sally provided a good supper – her own vegetable and lentil soup, a cottage loaf baked that morning, cold ham with apple chutney and pickled onions. The talk was lively, for people were still rejoicing that the war no longer hung over the country. Mr Bannister was no longer a member of Parliament, having lost his seat at the July election, and he was playing a more active role on the board of directors of a shoe manufacturing firm, drawing up new regulations to protect the interests of the workers.

‘But you’ll be much occupied with constituency business,
no doubt,’ observed Cedric, and was surprised at Bannister’s wry smile.

‘Actually, I’m going to leave politics to Geoffrey in the future. He’ll be standing at the next election, whenever that will be.’

‘Yes, as a Labour candidate,’ explained Geoffrey, at which there was a gasp of surprise, followed by silence until Isabel spoke.

‘Yes, it looks as if it’s going to be a socialist world in the future, Geoffrey. The whole world’s been changed by the past six years. May you have a good career!’

Geoffrey gave her a grateful smile, though no other comments were made by the parents, for their opinions had all been well expressed already; but the topic of change continued to dominate.

‘Some say there won’t be any more wars because the atom bomb will be the great deterrent,’ said Paul. ‘And I’ve heard others who think that it will bring about the end of the world and humanity with it. Where do we all stand on this apocryphal issue?’

Sally Tanner spoke up. ‘Same as where we stood before, Paul. None of us can see into the future, so we must go on as we are, doing the best we can.’

‘Good old Sally, that’s as wise a saying as any I’ve heard in a sermon!’ Paul said admiringly. ‘I wonder if Alan Kennard will say anything about it tomorrow.’

But the rector’s sermon was one of thanksgiving, though the darker side of the war was acknowledged in a personal and compassionate way.

‘Our thoughts go out to all families who’ve suffered the loss of friends and families in the bombing, and to those
whose sons, husbands and fathers have not returned from the fighting; some of you are here with us on this Christmas morning.’ He looked around at the congregation that filled St Peter’s, and continued, ‘And there are those who have welcomed their servicemen home but have had
re-adjustments
to make. There are the men who came home maimed or scarred in some way.’ He did not look at Jack Nuttall, but his hearers knew his meaning. ‘And there have been fine young men broken in health by starvation and ill treatment in prison camps.’ He paused, and Isabel knew that he was thinking of her brother Ernest’s adopted son Jonny, who would be worshipping with the family in a synagogue. ‘And there have been men of extraordinary courage in defending our shores who have succumbed to temptations in peacetime, and drifted away from their sorrowing parents.’ They all knew that he spoke of the Allinghams who had moved away from North Camp. ‘We must pray for them all, my friends, as we give thanks for our own blessings. Let us kneel now, here in the Lord’s presence.’

On her knees Isabel Neville rejoiced from her heart that this first post-war Christmas at Hassett Manor was surely the happiest ever.

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Born in Hampshire, M
AGGIE
B
ENNETT
worked as a nurse and midwife until her retirement in 1991. Having been an avid reader and scribbler since childhood, she first began to approach her writing seriously after her husband’s death in 1983. She enjoyed modest success with articles and short stories before the publication of a medical romance in 1992, which won that year’s RNA New Writers’ Award. She wrote six more before turning to mainstream fiction in 1996. Maggie has two grown-up daughters and a grandson, and lives in Suffolk.

The Carpenter’s Children

A Family’s Duty