Free Daisy's Wars by Meg Henderson

She was impressed, too, by the way
these wealthy women treated her. Not as an equal – that would have been too much to expect – but as a human being, when all her life till then she had lived in a world of Us and
Them.
    One day they had Mrs Armstrong in for a fitting, a lady in her forties who wasn’t married but carried the title as a courtesy. She was a tall, slim woman, with dark, waved hair in the
style of her young womanhood, and very pretty, with neat features and a sweet smile. Joan Johnstone had brought Daisy into the fitting room with Mrs Armstrong because she knew the woman had a kind
disposition and wouldn’t make Daisy nervous, even if she was very rich.
    ‘They say there’s to be another war, ladies, what do you think?’ Mrs Armstrong asked, as Daisy did up the long row of tiny buttons on the back of her dress while Mrs Johnstone
evened out the hem.
    ‘It’s too horrible to think about,’ Mrs Johnstone said. ‘You just can’t believe they would do it again, can you?’
    Mrs Armstrong sighed. ‘I lost everything in the last show, you know,’ she said sadly. ‘Three brothers and my fiancé, all in the same regiment. At the Somme.’ The
words hung in the air. ‘My parents didn’t last more than a year afterwards, so that was me, all on my own. I had the family money, but nothing else. My lovely chap wanted to get married
before he left, but my family wanted a huge society wedding for their only daughter and there wasn’t time. The times I’ve gone over that in my mind and cursed myself for being a damned
fool!’
    Daisy stared at her, transfixed. ‘And you never married?’ she asked before she could stop herself.
    ‘Daisy!’ Mrs Johnstone said quietly.
    ‘No, no, Joan,’ Mrs Armstrong said, ‘I really don’t mind.’ She turned towards Daisy, taking the girls hands in her own. ‘You’re a very attractive girl,
Daisy,’ she smiled, ‘one day you’ll be a very beautiful woman.’
    Daisy shrugged with embarrassment.
    ‘You
will
!’ The two older women exchanged amused glances. ‘I was, too, you know, though you’d hardly believe it now!’
    ‘You
are
,’ Daisy stammered, ‘you really are beautiful. I think you’re one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen!’
    ‘Oh, that’s kind,’ the woman replied. ‘But if you’ve lost the love of your life, Daisy, as I hope you never will, it doesn’t matter how beautiful you are or
how many men chase after you, you’re not interested. I regret not marrying him every day of my life, I’d give anything, everything, for the chance to go back and change it. He was the
only one and he still is, even all these years later.’ She sighed. ‘You see, everyone looks at the Great War and feels horrified at the millions of young lives that were sacrificed on
the battlefields, but they don’t understand that there were other lives lost here at home – the young women who never married their men. They weren’t
actually
lost, of
course, but they might as well have been, and if they never married, then they never had children. I often think of that, you know, what our children would have been like. But by the sounds of
things if they had been born they would now be getting ready to fight the Germans all over again.’
    ‘Do you really think it will come to that?’ Mrs Johnstone asked quietly.
    ‘I’m afraid it sounds very much like it.’ Mrs Armstrong looked thoughtful, then she gave herself a shake that was transmitted through her hands to Daisy. ‘Now look at
us!’ she said brightly, her eyes shining a little too much, ‘standing here gloomily like MacBeth’s witches!’ She turned to Daisy again, still holding her by the hands.
‘I was brought up to respect and obey my parents. I expect you were, too, Daisy, but they’re not always right, that’s all I’ll say. Just don’t you let the love of your
life get away from you, Daisy, no matter what anyone else thinks or says. Joan here is living proof that