Read Online After the War Is Over by Jennifer Robson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jennifer Robson
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as they moved
together? Was it as long ago as Oxford?
No . . . a memory stirred of a night at the hospital, a long, dark night in the summer
of 1916, when every ward had been packed full of broken men. She and her colleagues
had all been so tired, so downcast, but then someone had pushed aside the tables and
chairs in the mess hall, and someone else had produced a huge old gramophone, of all
things, and they’d danced for hours, all together, the nurses and doctors and orderlies.
How strange that she’d forgotten it until now.
With Norma in the lead, Charlotte soon felt comfortable with the conventional fox-trot,
and then with the Baltimore and the Peacock Strut, variations that her dance partner
assured her were all the rage.
“Do you see the music for ‘Let’s Toddle at the Midnight Ball’?” Norma called to Meg.
“Let’s do it next. It’s an older one, but they were playing it last week at the Palais.
Almost exactly like a fox-trot, except you bounce on the balls of your feet, like
this.” She demonstrated to Charlotte, her bobbed curls bouncing against her cheekbones.
“See? It’s ever so easy.”
“ ‘Let’s toddle, come on and toddle, toddling and waddling along. Listen tothe music of the shuffling feet, oh, what a rhythm we’re going with them,’ ” Meg sang, her voice sweet and light, and soon they were all singing and bouncing
together, even Miss Margaret, who had been coaxed out of her easy chair to dance,
somewhat unsteadily, with Rosie as her partner.
As soon as Meg had played the closing chords of the tune, Norma was over to the piano,
shuffling through the pile of sheet music that rested next to Meg on the bench. “Here—we
have to try this one. My friend Edith played it for me on her gramophone the other
night. It’s ‘The Tiger Rag,’ straight from America.”
“I’ve heard it, but I’ve never played jazz music,” Meg protested. “And the music is
so . . . so different .”
“Please try—please do. You’ll love the sound of it. You all will, I promise.”
“Very well. But it’s going to be a bit bumpy at first.”
Meg ran through the piece by sight, stumbling here and there over the unusual rhythm
of the piece, though normally she was an accomplished pianist who could master a tune
at first viewing. As she gained in confidence, the music from the piano grew louder,
the syncopation more compelling, and though Charlotte had no notion how one ought
to dance to such music, her feet were simply itching to dance.
“It’s a one-step,” explained Norma. “Ever so easy once you get started. Dance with
me, Rosie, and we’ll show the others.”
They danced and danced until the clock on the mantel chimed ten o’clock and the misses,
who normally retired at half past eight, declared that they were for their beds. So
the women rearranged the sitting room and went to their respective rooms, and Charlotte,
for the first time in weeks, fell asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow.
PART TWO
How fortunate we were who still had hope I did not then realize; I could not know
how soon the time would come when we should have no more hope, and yet be unable to
die.
—Vera Brittain, Testament of Youth (1933)
Chapter 8
The Earl of Cumberland
requests the pleasure of your company
at the marriage of his sister
Lady Elizabeth Adelaide Sophia Georgiana Neville-Ashford
to
Mr. Robert Graham Fraser
The Church of Saint Mary Magdalene
Haverthwaite, Cumbria
Saturday, the seventh of June
One thousand nine hundred and nineteen
Eleven o’clock in the morning
Breakfast to follow
Cumbermere Hall
A t exactly eleven o’clock, the landau glided to a halt in front of the ancient parish
church of St. Mary Magdalene. Charlotte waited for the footman to help Edward and
Lilly descend, then came forward to embrace the bride.
“You look beautiful,” she said truthfully. “Let me straighten your gown and veil before
we
together? Was it as long ago as Oxford?
No . . . a memory stirred of a night at the hospital, a long, dark night in the summer
of 1916, when every ward had been packed full of broken men. She and her colleagues
had all been so tired, so downcast, but then someone had pushed aside the tables and
chairs in the mess hall, and someone else had produced a huge old gramophone, of all
things, and they’d danced for hours, all together, the nurses and doctors and orderlies.
How strange that she’d forgotten it until now.
With Norma in the lead, Charlotte soon felt comfortable with the conventional fox-trot,
and then with the Baltimore and the Peacock Strut, variations that her dance partner
assured her were all the rage.
“Do you see the music for ‘Let’s Toddle at the Midnight Ball’?” Norma called to Meg.
“Let’s do it next. It’s an older one, but they were playing it last week at the Palais.
Almost exactly like a fox-trot, except you bounce on the balls of your feet, like
this.” She demonstrated to Charlotte, her bobbed curls bouncing against her cheekbones.
“See? It’s ever so easy.”
“ ‘Let’s toddle, come on and toddle, toddling and waddling along. Listen tothe music of the shuffling feet, oh, what a rhythm we’re going with them,’ ” Meg sang, her voice sweet and light, and soon they were all singing and bouncing
together, even Miss Margaret, who had been coaxed out of her easy chair to dance,
somewhat unsteadily, with Rosie as her partner.
As soon as Meg had played the closing chords of the tune, Norma was over to the piano,
shuffling through the pile of sheet music that rested next to Meg on the bench. “Here—we
have to try this one. My friend Edith played it for me on her gramophone the other
night. It’s ‘The Tiger Rag,’ straight from America.”
“I’ve heard it, but I’ve never played jazz music,” Meg protested. “And the music is
so . . . so different .”
“Please try—please do. You’ll love the sound of it. You all will, I promise.”
“Very well. But it’s going to be a bit bumpy at first.”
Meg ran through the piece by sight, stumbling here and there over the unusual rhythm
of the piece, though normally she was an accomplished pianist who could master a tune
at first viewing. As she gained in confidence, the music from the piano grew louder,
the syncopation more compelling, and though Charlotte had no notion how one ought
to dance to such music, her feet were simply itching to dance.
“It’s a one-step,” explained Norma. “Ever so easy once you get started. Dance with
me, Rosie, and we’ll show the others.”
They danced and danced until the clock on the mantel chimed ten o’clock and the misses,
who normally retired at half past eight, declared that they were for their beds. So
the women rearranged the sitting room and went to their respective rooms, and Charlotte,
for the first time in weeks, fell asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow.
PART TWO
How fortunate we were who still had hope I did not then realize; I could not know
how soon the time would come when we should have no more hope, and yet be unable to
die.
—Vera Brittain, Testament of Youth (1933)
Chapter 8
The Earl of Cumberland
requests the pleasure of your company
at the marriage of his sister
Lady Elizabeth Adelaide Sophia Georgiana Neville-Ashford
to
Mr. Robert Graham Fraser
The Church of Saint Mary Magdalene
Haverthwaite, Cumbria
Saturday, the seventh of June
One thousand nine hundred and nineteen
Eleven o’clock in the morning
Breakfast to follow
Cumbermere Hall
A t exactly eleven o’clock, the landau glided to a halt in front of the ancient parish
church of St. Mary Magdalene. Charlotte waited for the footman to help Edward and
Lilly descend, then came forward to embrace the bride.
“You look beautiful,” she said truthfully. “Let me straighten your gown and veil before
we
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