I poured tea for myself and Aunt Helen.

Sipping the tea, I thought about what I would do until I was ready to leave for Ipswich.

“I think...” I began slowly, “I will go to the secluded garden for a while before we leave.”

Lady Helen nodded as she looked at the newspaper.

“That would be nice, dear.” she replied, “But be sure to be at the front by ten-thirty. Sir Michael has a very tight schedule.”

“I promise,” I said, “Now, if you will excuse me, I will go and get dressed.”

“Oh, by the way.” she said without looking up. “I have given Melissa some money for lunch so no need to hurry back. Sir Michael will let you know when he will return.”

“Oh, Thank you, Aunt Helen, that will be nice.”

I got to my feet and leaned across to kiss Aunt Helen on the cheek and as I did so she placed her palm against my cheek. Her face melted into a warm smile then, without a word, she went back to reading the news sheet in front of her.

I was a little puzzled but it felt nice. I felt that she was happy with me and happy that I was in her home.

I smiled then left her to her newspaper, closing the door gently behind me.

Thirty minutes later I left my room having put on my outdoor shoes and placed a shawl around my shoulders. Although the sun was beginning to show her face, the air had not yet warmed sufficiently to only wear a thin summer dress.

Outside, the air was fresh and clean and I took a deep breath, happy inside and feeling that I had a home rather than just somewhere to stay until my parents financial affairs were settled.

I couldn't help but feel a little sad that I had not been able to attend their funeral. Their bodies had not been recovered but I felt sure that they were somewhere watching over me and I hoped that they were pleased that I was here at Woolverstone.

I took a deep breath and dismissed any further thoughts of them, stepping out instead onto the narrow gravel pathway that led to the secluded garden.

I could still feel Aunt Helen's touch, such was the strength of belonging such a simple act gave me, I walked in oblivion to everything around me until I passed through the archway that gave entrance to the pretty little garden.

“Who is there?”

A man's voice snapped me back to reality. I looked ahead towards the iron bench.

“Thomas!” I exclaimed, “You are up and about already!” and ran quickly around the flower beds to greet him.

He smiled warmly.

“Good Morning, Victoria. Yes, I feel much better this morning. I am so glad you are here.”

I stood beside him, my heart beating like a drum.

“Won't you join me?” He asked, patting the bench with his hand.

“Oh, yes, of course,” I said. He continued to face straight ahead as I took my place beside him.

“I cannot stay long this morning, Thomas.” I told him. “I am going into Ipswich later with Sir Michael Pilkington-Smythe.”

Thomas smiled and replied with just a hint of sarcasm.

“My, my, you do move in elevated circles.”

I pouted a little, not absolutely certain he was joking.

“Thomas... He is a friend of my Aunt. She asked him if I could ride into Ipswich with him.”

“I am only teasing,” he replied with a little chuckle. “I just hope that I am not too lowly for you, wot wiv me only bein' a infantry foot-slogger an' all.” He spoke the final part of the sentence with a mock cockney accent to press home the point.

“Oh, Thomas!” I chided him. “You are not an ordinary soldier and you know it! Besides, even if you were, it wouldn't matter.”

He laughed out loud then and the sound made my heart soar that he could still be happy after all that he had been through. I didn't think I said anything funny but his laughter was infectious and I began to laugh too.

As the laughter died away, Thomas became serious and didn't speak but his head tilted forwards as he sighed.

“Is something wrong?” I asked him, putting my hand on his.

“No, not really, except that...” His voice trailed away.

“Except what, Thomas?” I pressed him.

“Except that I just realised that I know you are beautiful from your voice and pretty laughter, but I will never see your face, never know what you look like.”

I squeezed his hand gently as the words failed me. I moved closer to him and just sat silently.

“So.” he said, after a moment or two. “May I ask what takes you into the town?”

“A Crossley, I believe,” I replied mischievously.

He laughed again.

“Touché!” he replied, “All right then, for what reason are you travelling with such exulted company and luxurious manner into the fine town of Ipswich?”

Now it was my turn to smile.

“No reason other than it is something I have never done before.”

“Ah, a good reason,” he replied. “I too have not seen Ipswich and I suppose now, I never shall.”

I wanted to tell him not to give up hope but I could not. I would never forgive myself for making him think his eyesight would return if there was no likelihood of him ever being able to see again. Instead I tried to turn the subject.

“Why are you still in your pyjamas?” I asked. I knew he was not cold as he wore a thick woollen dressing gown, but I had only seen him in uniform when outside.

“I didn't see the point of wearing my uniform any more,” he answered. “I will never be a soldier again and I had made my point by enlisting as a soldier, so I thought I may as well save time this morning and just get some air before dressing.” He paused for a moment then smiled as he continued. “I am glad I did, for I would not have seen you otherwise.”

Again I squeezed his hand.

“I am glad too, Thomas.” I moved slightly sideways and lay my head upon his shoulder. I was beginning to realise that the longer I spent with him the less I wanted to leave. “I like being here with you.”

“And I with you, Victoria,” he replied, then lifted his arm and let it rest across my shoulders, holding me gently against him.

“Promise me you will never give up on life,” I said.

 He squeezed my shoulder gently.

“I promise,” he replied. “The next time you see me I will be dressed properly.”

“Oh, I didn't mean...” I sat up quickly.

“I know you didn't.” He pulled me back onto his shoulder. “But I was beginning to, after my fit. You have given me the strength to fight on, Victoria. You have shown me that all is not lost.”

“I knew you were special from the moment I saw you.” I turned my eyes up to look at him and he gave a small, wry smile.

“No, I am not special,” he retorted. “I have been given a chance and it would be wrong of me to give up on it just because life has become a little difficult. I am no different to any of the other brave men who have found themselves in similar circumstances. In fact,” he continued, “they are far braver than me for they do not have well off families to help them through and...”

He stopped.

“And?” I queried.

“And,” he went on. “They do not have a wonderful nurse like you to help them.”

I huddled closer to him and sighed with pleasure, my face burning with pride.

We sat in silence again, his arm around my shoulder. I felt so content that, had the world around us erupted into flames and burnt to the ground, I would not have noticed.

After some time I looked at my watch.

“Oh Lord, Thomas, I have to run. It is ten-twenty-five!”

I jumped up but he gripped my hand tightly.

“Will I see you again?” he asked.

“Oh, yes, of course you will. I have to go!”

He leaned forwards and kissed my hand.

“Take care, my Angel,” he said and released me.

“You too,” I replied and turned and fled towards the house.

I looked ahead of me as I ran and saw that there was no car in front of the portico.

Slowing down I became annoyed with myself. I couldn't believe that I had missed the car! How stupid of me! But then, I noticed Sir Michael and Melissa standing just in front of the big entrance door.

I ran up the steps to them.

“You are still here. Thank goodness,” I breathed.

“Yes,” Melissa replied. “Sir Michael's car has not yet arrived. He is not happy.” She whispered the last part. I looked across at him discretely. His face was like thunder.

“But it is only just after ten-thirty,” I whispered back.

“Yes, I know, but this is the Army and Sir Michael is a very high ranking officer. The car had better arrive soon or someone is really going to get it in the neck.” She looked across at Sir Michael and then back at me, “We were supposed to leave at ten-thirty so the car should have been here well before and ready.”

I nodded in understanding.

“I have brought your coat and hat. I had a feeling you may be close to time when I saw Private Billington going to the garden earlier.”

She handed them to me and I put them on gratefully, feeling my face burn with embarrassment.

“There is no need to blush, Miss,” Melissa said gently.

There is nothing wrong with befriending him. He is a nice boy, I believe.”

“Oh, yes, indeed, Melissa. He really is. We have so much in common.”

Sir Michael was getting more and more purple faced by the minute. I looked at my wrist. Ten thirty-five. I was beginning to get nervous. I had no idea at all about what would happen to the poor driver when he did finally appear.

I went to speak to Sir Michael but as I turned towards him, Melissa put her hand on my arm and shook her head slightly to deter me.

I remained silent. I checked my watch again and only three minutes had passed. It seemed like a lifetime.

Sir Michael also checked his watch. He banged his stick on the marble floor and turned to storm back into the house but, just as he was about to take the first step, his car appeared from around the corner and pulled up in front the portico. Charlie Manston was again driving.

“Manston!” Sir Michael roared. “Where the hell have you been?!”

Charlie looked flustered and I noticed his right hand was bandaged.

“I, I'm sorry, Sir,” he stammered out an apology. “When I started the car the 'andle kicked back and I slammed my 'and into the radiator. 'ad to get it dressed or I would 'ave bled all over the car.”

“Are you fit to drive, Man?” came the blustering retort.

“Er, yes, I think so, Sir.”

“Well, then, Manston, you had better get on and do it. We are late enough already!” and, as he stepped up into the car, “Never mind me, help the ladies!”

Charlie Manston quickly moved to the rear door and opened it, holding out his hand to aid Melissa. She took his hand with her right and lifted her skirts with her left then climbed up onto the running board and through the door, taking her place on the far side of the bench seat. I followed and sat behind Sir Michael who was seated at the front.

As Charlie crunched the car into gear and began to move slowly away, Sir Michael turned in his seat.

“My apologies for the somewhat unpleasant and tardy start to the journey,” he said. “But I am afraid we do not tolerate tardiness in the army." He shot a sideways glance at his driver who kept his eyes fixed firmly on the road. “I am sure there will be no more problems today. Will there, Manston?”

“No, Sir, Definitely not, Sir,” came the stiff reply.

“Good show. Now, Victoria,” he continued, addressing me directly. “I will set you down outside the Great White Horse on Tavern Street. From there you can find most of what you may wish. I will be back there at four o'clock. Please ensure you are there.”

“Thank you, Sir Michael. I will indeed not be late.” He looked to Melissa then and winked. She smiled back and nodded her agreement at the unspoken request to keep an eye on the time.

The car bumped along the rough country roads at what seemed a very high speed but as I had only been transported in lorries or vans, I supposed this was probably just normal for a car.

The wind in my face was exhilarating but I had to hold on to my hat to keep it from blowing off. I had seen ladies in cars with their hats tied with a ribbon under their chin. I always thought it was just fashion but now I understood the practicality.

The road took us over a bridge across the River Orwell, past the end of the port. There were many ships moored and the dockside was a hive of activity, no doubt loading supplies for the war in Europe or unloading supplies for the people at home.

We continued on into the the main town until coming to a halt in front of a hotel, The Great White Horse.

Charlie jumped down into the road and walked quickly round the front of the car to open the door for Sir Michael.

“Manston!” he roared.

“Sir?” came the puzzled reply.

“The ladies!”

“Oh! Oh, yes Sir, Sorry, Sir.” He quickly moved to the door beside me, turning the polished brass handle and stepping back to open the door towards him.

I smiled as I held my skirts and stepped down to the running board and to the kerb. Melissa followed.

During this time Sir Michael had slammed his door closed again, saying, “What is wrong with you, man?! I am not getting out here am I!”

Once Melissa was clear, Charlie closed the door and hurried back to take his place behind the wheel.

“Four o'clock, Ladies!” Came Sir Michael's reply as the car lurched away along the busy street.

Melissa and I stood for a moment and watched the car disappear along the busy street until it was hidden by an approaching tramcar, squealing and clanking along the rails in the centre of the road, coming to a stand directly in front of us.

The first tram I had seen was in London. They were mainly cream and dark red, covered with a roof but this one was green and cream. It had a staircase winding around each end, unlike the single staircase of the omnibuses I saw in London and it had no roof, also like the omnibuses, so those sitting on top were at the mercy of the elements. I also noticed that this one had a post sticking up from the centre of the top deck. Attached to the top was a long pole with a small wheel at the end that rolled along a wire above, which was suspended from posts either side of the road. I was fascinated by this arrangement. I knew that they were powered by electricity and guessed that this was what the pole was for but, if that was indeed the case, why did the tramcars in London not have wires and connecting poles?

As I stood and stared, Melissa touched my arm.

“We don't have too long Miss Victoria, for standing and staring at those noisy old things.”

I slowly turned my head away, my eyes remaining fixed on it until the last minute.

“No, I suppose not,” I replied, my mind still on this amazing vehicle.

Bringing my mind back to the reality, I stretched upright.

“Hmm, yes. You are quite right,” I told her. “Where shall we go first?”

“Where would you like to go?” she replied. “I am only here to look after you and guide you.”

I pondered for a moment.

“I know. What about about the docks. That looked interesting as we crossed the bridge!”

Melissa laughed out loud.

“Good heavens no, Miss Victoria!” she exclaimed. “If I let you go there I would get far more than a flogging from Lady Helen!”

“You would? Why?” I asked.

“Oh my lord,” she was laughing heartily now. “That is no place for a lady! Full of ruffians. Very dangerous for the likes of you and me.”

I was smiling broadly now. Melissa's laughter was infectious.

“All right, I understand. You can stop laughing now,” I chided her.

She took her hanky from her purse and began to wipe her eyes.

“Oh my,” she said as the laughter began to recede.

“If you want to see hustle and bustle, what about the market?”

“Yes, all right then,” I agreed and we began to walk.

For the next two hours, Melissa showed me around the town. The market was fascinating. In a way it was similar to the station. Porters pulling trolley loads of fresh produce. Instead of the noise of the train doors slamming and hissing of steam engines, there were the shouts of the stall holders calling out their wares. Fishwives shouting about fresh fish straight from the docks and so on. It was marvellous, like nothing I had seen before.

We looked in shops that sold dresses. My clothes had all been bought by my mother and sent to me. We never went into shops like these when I was at home.

I began to realise that my parents had been trying so hard to protect me from the perils of life outside and I understood perfectly well that they meant to keep me safe but it meant that I had learned nothing of life outside my home and school.

Of course, I had been taught about the world and had been allowed to read newspapers but I had no first hand experience of anything at all and that in itself could put me in grave peril.

“Would you like some lunch now, Miss?” Melissa asked when we returned to the street.

“Yes, I think I would, Melissa.” I answered. “Where shall we eat?”

“The hotel where the Major-General left us has a nice tea room I believe.”

It was agreed then, and we walked back to The Great White Horse where we were shown to a table by a young waitress dressed in a smart black uniform with stiff white apron and cap.

She took our coats and hats and hung them on the coat-stand nearby then returned to take our order. Once satisfied, she disappeared through a wooden door to the kitchen.

“I need to relieve myself,” I whispered, leaning across the table so that none of the other patrons would overhear.

“The WC is just by the entrance where we came in,” Melissa whispered in reply and I stood and walked back towards the large reception area just inside the main door.

Instead of the WC, however, I went directly to the reception desk.

“May I help you, Miss?” the middle aged concierge asked politely.

“Yes, do you have a telephone?” I asked.

“In the booth at the end of the desk,” he replied, pointing directly at the small glazed box at the end of his desk. “Just pick up the ear piece and the operator will connect you.”

Thanking him I went directly into the booth and closed the folding door.

I picked up the earpiece and held it to my ear.

“Hello, Operator speaking, what number would you like?”

I told her the number and waited. Before long, a voice answered...

To be continued...