Lucia in Wartime by Tom Holt

Author:Tom Holt
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: world war ii, bbc, ef benson, wartime england, lucia, downton abby
Publisher: Coffeetown Press

The war had certainly had an inflationary effect on the value of news in Tilling. The minor incidents of life—Benjy getting tipsy or Diva resurrecting the chintz roses—no longer provided material for two or three days of intense discussion and speculation as they would once have done, for greater and more momentous events were now so plentiful, what with officers and black markets and wireless broadcasts, that there were simply not enough hours in the day to do them justice. Next morning the High Street buzzed with two enormous issues—Irene was going away to lug barges with a lot of painters, and Elizabeth had been appointed head of the Tilling Red Cross, no other candidate having been found to oppose her. In the draper’s queue, Diva imparted these tidings to Evie, who had already heard them from Elizabeth.

‘Head of the Red Cross!’ said Diva. ‘She’s going to be measured for her uniform on Monday. Grey serge with a velour hat to match. Quite a monopoly of uniforms. Major Benjy in his and Elizabeth in hers,’ she concluded enviously, thinking of the grey serge.

Evie gasped. ‘Just like Florence Nightingale! Do you suppose she’ll have a watch pinned on the front, or is that just nurses?’

‘And Irene going to work on the barges with two artists from London. They’ll have lots of time for painting, when they’re not pulling the barge along.’

‘Don’t the boats have engines nowadays? I must ask her. Fancy that!’ For a moment Evie wished that she was going away on a barge, or had joined the Red Cross, or was going to broadcast on the B.B.C. or something. ‘Do you suppose Elizabeth will actually tend the sick? How exciting.’

‘Doubt it, even if there were any wounded to tend, which there aren’t, thank God. Hate to think what would happen if the Hun did invade. Major Benjy doing the fighting and Elizabeth looking after the casualties. Not that I don’t think it’s very good of them both. Still, I could have sworn I heard the Major singing in the High Street last night.’

‘No! What?’

‘ “Road to Mandalay”. Almost as if he were tipsy or something. Still, I suppose it was a marching song, though if his men march like that they must get out of step a lot.’

‘They probably do,’ said Evie.

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