Mrs. Tim Carries On by D.E. Stevenson

Author:D.E. Stevenson
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Published: 2018-11-07T06:00:00+00:00

TUESDAY 27TH AUGUST

Jack and Grace come round after dinner for a chat, they want to hear about Tim’s adventures, but Tim has told and retold the story so often that he is sick of it, and refuses to play. Grace says, well what was the strangest thing that happened to him—surely he can tell them that much, and Tim replies that the strangest thing that happened to him was coming home and finding everyone going on just the same as before. It is quite obvious, says Tim, that nobody in this place knows there’s a war on. Grace retorts, somewhat indignantly, that she does not know what he means, we have air-raids, don’t we? Tim says she would know what he means if she could see Belgium. Grace says we are doing our best—she and Jack have given up having late dinner except when people are coming; she is cutting down her staff and making do with last winter’s coat. She hasn’t been able to take up any war work because of the twins, but she intends to start going down to the Depot very soon. If Tim will tell her what else she can do, she is willing to do it.

“That’s just it,” declares Tim. “There’s something wrong somewhere. The inequality of sacrifice is what worries me. I agree that you can’t do anything if that’s any comfort to you.”

Jack says, “It wouldn’t help if we made ourselves uncomfortable.”

“No, it wouldn’t help,” replies Tim, “but personally I should feel much more comfortable if I were more uncomfortable. Sometimes I feel as if I ought to sleep on the floor.”

“But you’ve done your bit!” exclaims Grace.

“That’s another thing that worries me,” says Tim. “It’s the attitude of people in this country; the satisfaction shown by the average person over Dunkirk. They look upon it as a sort of victory, whereas in reality it was a defeat. I grant you the evacuation was a magnificent show, but the fact that we were obliged to evacuate was a defeat, and a blow to our prestige that won’t easily be countered.”

“But look here,” cries Jack. “That’s just our strength. We’re so damn sure we can’t be beaten that we don’t notice a defeat. We’re like a chap that’s been knocked out and gets up again and comes on for more. One of his eyes is bunged up completely and his nose is bleeding, but there’s lots of fight in him—he hasn’t been defeated, has he? Lord, you can’t defeat a chap like that!”

Grace says she knows nothing about boxing, and she thinks we have talked quite enough about the war . . . “Have you heard the latest?” she enquires.

Tim asks if she means the one about the padre and the cow, because, if so, he’s heard it six times, and he can’t laugh at it anymore. Grace replies that she did not mean that at all—it’s a silly story anyhow and unsuitable for Hester—she meant had we heard the latest news—the news

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