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Authors: Frances Osborne
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forty after a twenty-year marriage that had produced a single son: her darling Euan. She spent her days exercising her terrifying memory in the playing of bridge and labeling every item in her possession with her name and address. On one occasion a small black umbrella was returned to her after she uncharacteristically left it on one of her many economical journeys on London’s buses.
She could not have been more different from her daughter-in-law, Idina, and her eccentric family. Socialism and suffragettes, cults and cancan dancers, not to mention divorce, all sent shivers down Minnie Wallace’s spine. 4 If Euan had not been twenty-one and therefore of age when he married Idina, Minnie’s consent might well have been withheld.
Euan came home for lunch. Idina, still obviously in need of rest but equally obviously determined to show her husband she was wellenough to keep him company, was up and dressed. 5 After lunch Euan drove her out in search of milk. The supply of fresh milk had come to a standstill, so there was no need to ration it. It simply wasn’t there. Instead the two of them drove to the Nestlé shop. Powdered milk it was, or no milk at all. Idina went in alone and bought as many tins of milk as they would allow her. It would be mixed with water for breakfast in London and for the children, who were still down in the country. Then, as if to prove that she was not as ill as she looked, Idina set off with Euan and “walked to various shops.” They had friends to tea and went out on the town with others, dining at Claridge’s with a couple of women, one taking the name of Charles to even the numbers, before going on to the theater.
However, even this first day of keeping Euan entertained had proved too much, too soon, for the still-unwell Idina. When they awoke on Saturday morning she looked terrible and could barely move. Euan insisted that she see a doctor. Doctors, however, were thin on the ground. Anyone young enough to be sent to the Front had been. One of the household knew of a doctor just around the corner in Connaught Square. Euan sent for him.
Dr. William Beecham came that morning. A man in his sixties, he was neither a general practitioner nor a society doctor. Instead he specialized in skin diseases and gynecology
Nonetheless, he examined Idina’s chest and, as surgeons often do, diagnosed her as in need of bed rest and, Euan recorded, “a small operation next week.” Beecham also announced that Idina was so unwell that she “could not possibly come to Cambridge.”
This was devastating news for Euan and Idina. Their plans for a riotous four months together were dissolving before their eyes. If this doctor was right, Idina would be stuck in bed and Euan would be alone in Cambridge. Clearly desperate to rescue the situation, Idina refused to accept his recommendation. And when he left, she got out of bed.
That evening Idina went out with Euan. They dined at the Berkeley Hotel and went to a show called Nothing but the Truth , which Euan thought “most amusing.” For three more days, darting here, dining there, she kept up the pace. On Sunday morning they went to church at the chic Chapel Royal at the Savoy, and then took three friends to lunch at the Ritz. That night they dined at Claridge’s again and, the theaters being closed for Sunday, had “a small party” afterward at Connaught Place, “some people playing Poker and some singing.” And on Idina went.
Two days later Idina and Euan “motored down to Sandhill to see the children.” They left at ten-thirty and “got there before one.”
Almost as soon as the car stopped the boys came bounding up, “both looking very well and in good form.” The straight-haired David, at three and a half no longer a baby at all but very much a boy, was growing lean and stretched, old enough to chatter nineteen to the dozen. A year younger, Gerard, his head a mass of fair curls, still had legs fat enough to make him lollop from one side to
She could not have been more different from her daughter-in-law, Idina, and her eccentric family. Socialism and suffragettes, cults and cancan dancers, not to mention divorce, all sent shivers down Minnie Wallace’s spine. 4 If Euan had not been twenty-one and therefore of age when he married Idina, Minnie’s consent might well have been withheld.
Euan came home for lunch. Idina, still obviously in need of rest but equally obviously determined to show her husband she was wellenough to keep him company, was up and dressed. 5 After lunch Euan drove her out in search of milk. The supply of fresh milk had come to a standstill, so there was no need to ration it. It simply wasn’t there. Instead the two of them drove to the Nestlé shop. Powdered milk it was, or no milk at all. Idina went in alone and bought as many tins of milk as they would allow her. It would be mixed with water for breakfast in London and for the children, who were still down in the country. Then, as if to prove that she was not as ill as she looked, Idina set off with Euan and “walked to various shops.” They had friends to tea and went out on the town with others, dining at Claridge’s with a couple of women, one taking the name of Charles to even the numbers, before going on to the theater.
However, even this first day of keeping Euan entertained had proved too much, too soon, for the still-unwell Idina. When they awoke on Saturday morning she looked terrible and could barely move. Euan insisted that she see a doctor. Doctors, however, were thin on the ground. Anyone young enough to be sent to the Front had been. One of the household knew of a doctor just around the corner in Connaught Square. Euan sent for him.
Dr. William Beecham came that morning. A man in his sixties, he was neither a general practitioner nor a society doctor. Instead he specialized in skin diseases and gynecology
Nonetheless, he examined Idina’s chest and, as surgeons often do, diagnosed her as in need of bed rest and, Euan recorded, “a small operation next week.” Beecham also announced that Idina was so unwell that she “could not possibly come to Cambridge.”
This was devastating news for Euan and Idina. Their plans for a riotous four months together were dissolving before their eyes. If this doctor was right, Idina would be stuck in bed and Euan would be alone in Cambridge. Clearly desperate to rescue the situation, Idina refused to accept his recommendation. And when he left, she got out of bed.
That evening Idina went out with Euan. They dined at the Berkeley Hotel and went to a show called Nothing but the Truth , which Euan thought “most amusing.” For three more days, darting here, dining there, she kept up the pace. On Sunday morning they went to church at the chic Chapel Royal at the Savoy, and then took three friends to lunch at the Ritz. That night they dined at Claridge’s again and, the theaters being closed for Sunday, had “a small party” afterward at Connaught Place, “some people playing Poker and some singing.” And on Idina went.
Two days later Idina and Euan “motored down to Sandhill to see the children.” They left at ten-thirty and “got there before one.”
Almost as soon as the car stopped the boys came bounding up, “both looking very well and in good form.” The straight-haired David, at three and a half no longer a baby at all but very much a boy, was growing lean and stretched, old enough to chatter nineteen to the dozen. A year younger, Gerard, his head a mass of fair curls, still had legs fat enough to make him lollop from one side to
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