Free Camomile Lawn by Mary Wesley Page A

full moon, I ask you?’
    Oliver shut the door. ‘We are in the kitchen. Polly’s gone to bed.’
    ‘Went to your house, found it shut up, nobody there. What happened to your maid?’
    ‘Joined the Wrens.’
    ‘Women in uniform, I ask you.’
    ‘Lots are. Why are you here, Uncle? Come down and have a drink or something. The twins are here and Sophy.’
    ‘What’s she doing here? Run away from school? No, don’t tell me, half term.’
    ‘German measles, actually.’ Oliver led his uncle down to the kitchen. The twins stood up politely.
    ‘Hullo, hullo, not conchies, then? Nice to see you. What’s this about measles?’
    ‘German.’ Sophy pecked his cheek. ‘Why are you in London? Aunt Helena never said—’
    ‘Germans, child. Well, they say they are Austrian but it’s all the same thing. Enemy aliens, I ask you, it’s ridiculous. Quiet respectable violinist, law-abiding. I told them. Cut your bloody red tape, I said, and let them out, costing the taxpayer a packet. The Rector and I will take care of them. What’s this? Gin? Oh, all right, if it’s all you’ve got. Been at the Home Office all the afternoon, absolutely bloody people, positive Huns in their methods, wound in red tape, can’t tell a simple violinist who can play the organ and wouldn’t hurt a fly—they’ve called up Tompkins, by the way, so we need him—from an enemy agent. Any more gin? Thanks. Not taking your last, I hope? Well, I got nowhere at the Home Office, didn’t do my leg any good, they passed me from one buffoon to another. Why aren’t they in the forces, I asked them. They didn’t like that, I can tell you. Go and lose a leg as I did, I told them. In the last war we didn’t sit on our bums in the Home Office, we fought. I saw six of the buggers. I ask you. Got nowhere, absolutely bloody nowhere. What are you all laughing at?’
    ‘Nothing, sir.’
    ‘Well, where was I? Oh yes, nowhere, so I didn’t give up, I’m not German, not that they’ve given up but they will, mark my words. I went along to the House of Commons and found that chap Calypso married and two friends of his. Good bar they’ve got there, by the way, and bingo, what do you think? This fellow, member for some Home County or other, tells me the Erstweilers are being released and arriving in London the day after tomorrow and none of those fellows sitting on their arses wound in red tape had heard, I ask you, what is the country coming to? Any more of that gin?’
    Oliver poured the last of the gin into the outstretched glass. ‘So you’ve got the Erstweilers out?’
    ‘That’s what I said, made myself clear, didn’t I? I may have lost my leg but not my wits. Can’t see what’s so funny. Can’t think why you are all laughing.’ Putting his empty glass carefully onto the table, Richard Cuthbertson leant back, slid from the kitchen chair onto the floor and lay prone.
    ‘Mind the leg.’ Sophy hopped behind Oliver and the twins as they carried the unconscious figure up to bed.

Eleven
    ‘T RY AND RELAX.’ THE lady doctor smiled down at Polly. ‘That was my idea in coming here.’ Polly lay on the couch.
    The lady doctor stood warming her hands. ‘There, my hands are warm. I have always thought touching patients with cold hands the height of cruelty.’
    ‘Our doctor always made us jump as children.’
    ‘A man, I suppose.’
    ‘Yes. He gave us disgusting medicines, too.’
    ‘There, my dear, how’s that? Feel comfortable?’
    ‘Will it stay in?’
    ‘Goodness, yes. Now try it yourself, don’t hurry, remember what I said.’
    Polly tried. ‘That right?’
    ‘Perfect. Do it again to make sure. I don’t want you getting home and panicking.’
    ‘I don’t think I’ll panic.’
    ‘I expect not. How old did you say you are?’
    ‘Nineteen.’
    ‘Are your parents pleased?’
    ‘I haven’t told them yet. My father’s a doctor. He’s been evacuated with his hospital, Mother’s with him.’
    ‘You seem the sort of girl who knows her