This was getting nasty. I felt like a total bitch, but I kept going. “When you were in the hospital, how often did Millie visit you?” I asked.
“What is your point, Maggie?”
“You told me you and Millie had an understanding that your relationship would last only as long as you were stationed at Bassingbourn because Millie had a boyfriend in the British Navy.”
“Yes, that was the agreement. I was not going to get serious with anyone because the odds of surviving twenty-five to thirty missions were not on my side.”
“When you were in the hospital, did she visit you once, twice, a dozen times?”
Rob was getting annoyed, but he answered, “I was in two different hospitals. When I was at Bassingbourn, Millie came by most nights. After they decided I needed eye surgery, they sent me to Oxford to a specialist. It was more difficult for Millie to get there because she had to take a train, so I think she came to Oxford only twice.”
“Rob, Millie was in love with you.”
Now he was very annoyed. “If you’re trying to make me feel guilty, it’s not going to work. I made it very clear that as soon as I had flown all of my missions, I was hoping to be sent back to the States immediately and alone. That’s when she told me she felt the same way because she was ‘practically engaged’ to this guy Derek.”
“Rob, that didn’t mean she hadn’t fallen in love with you.” My tone had softened, but I kept talking. “From what you’ve told me about Millie, she sounds like a nice girl, who would have been willing to go to see a friend in the hospital almost every night because you were nearby, but I’m having a hard time believing she would take a train to Oxford twice if she didn’t have some very strong feelings for you. I know all about train travel during the war. It was like being crammed into a sardine can, smelling of sweat and smoke, and being pressed up against strange men, I had to keep my arms crossed and my knees locked together because of guys sticking their hands where they didn’t belong. Millie made the effort because she was in love with you.”
Before Rob could answer, a car pulled into the driveway, and our discussion came to an end.
“Maggie, when we get back to London, we’ll finish this conversation.” Barely controlling his anger, he said, “It’s overdue.”
Rob and I spent part of an uncomfortable two hours together before Jack drove him back to the train station in Sheffield. I was feeling perfectly miserable about what had been said, but I didn’t see what else I could have done. Rob was leaving in three weeks to go back to the States, and I wasn’t.
Chapter 29
The luncheon at Montclair was very casual because everyone was still recovering from the previous evening, and its purpose was to allow everyone to relax and talk. Beth’s Uncle Jeremy, who apparently hated parties, had come up from London. I had seen pictures of a young Jeremy Lacey, when his hair was black and his face unlined. Years of working outdoors as a geologist had given him the same look as an old tar coming home from the sea. Knowing that Rob was from Arizona, he sought me out immediately and was disappointed when he learned Rob had returned to London. “He escaped, did he?” he said with a smile. “I was hoping to have a discussion with him about his home state.”
“I’m sorry he had to leave early,” I said. “Something came up.” That was the truth. I certainly hadn’t planned to have a fight with Rob at Beth’s house. “I’m a poor second choice, but I grew up in a small coal town in eastern Pennsylvania.”
“What town?” he asked with genuine curiosity.
“Minooka.” A lot of people in the Scranton area knew about Minooka because of its interesting characters and bars. If a man didn’t like one bar, he wouldn’t have to walk very far to get to one that he did. But outside coal country, it was just another small town no one had ever heard of. “It’s just south of Scranton,” I answered.
“I’ve been there.”
“You’ve been to Minooka?” He must be kidding.
“I’ve always been fascinated by coal because of our family’s involvement in local mining operations, and I wrote my senior thesis on the evolution of British mining. As I’m sure you know, Minooka is in the middle of the largest anthracite coal field in the United States. On a summer break from college in 1912, I drove from Carbondale to Mauch Chunk in a battered Tin Lizzy, and I actually spent some time in Minooka because a local geologist took me to a racetrack in town and then for a quaff at a nearby hotel. What I recall is that it was your typical small coal town with unpaved streets.”
“Yes, that’s Minooka. But it’s quite different today. We now have two paved streets.” The “hotel” where Jeremy had enjoyed his “quaff” had to be O’Donnell’s Hotel and Bar. The “hotel” designation came in handy when prohibition went into effect in 1919. And the “quaff” was almost certainly a Schmidt’s Beer, a local favorite brewed in Philadelphia.
Seeing that Jack was headed his way, he said, “I will be in England through the holidays and will divide my time between London and Montclair where I hold court in the tower. I would very much enjoy speaking with you again.”
I agreed to meet with him on my next visit, and then responding to a wave from Beth, I headed in her direction. She wanted me to join a conversation she was having with Scott and Ellen Manning and her cousin, Lady Patricia Alcott. That was fine with me because I was deliberately avoiding her son. I was feeling very guilty about how much attention Michael had paid to me at the party and how much I had enjoyed it. Eva Greene was helping me out because, wherever Michael went, Eva was right behind him. But when he finally did break free, he asked me to join him on the terrace.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I had to get away from Eva.” Glancing over his shoulder to see if we had been followed, he added, “I didn’t have this much trouble evading the Japanese in the Burmese jungles.”
“I don’t mind,” I said, “but if I were a guy, I’d be very flattered if a beautiful woman like Eva was interested in me. Freddie called her a smasher, and Rob certainly admired her.”
“Eva definitely meets the definition of ‘smasher,’ but to my mind, there’s a lot more that goes into making a girl attractive than a pretty face and a good figure.” Looking across the room where his brother and sister-in-law were talking to Violet Alcott, Michael continued, “A sharp wit and a fine mind are more important in the long run.”
“Did your girlfriend in Australia meet those criteria?” I had no right to ask that question, but I was a little annoyed by his remark, which was clearly directed at James and Angela.
“Maggie, you are judging me too harshly. Angela is just what James wants in a wife. She grew up in a village where the roles of men and women are clearly defined, and that’s fine with James. All I am saying is that type of relationship is not for me. I want a wife who is my equal, not just someone who will keep house and rear children.”
“I understand,” I said, softening my tone. “It’s the same with the Irish. It’s only because of the war that things are changing.”
Michael seemed relieved by my answer. I didn’t want to judge anyone harshly. But in the end, what was important was whether or not the marriage worked, and James’s marriage was definitely working. On the other hand, Michael’s views of marriage were more in keeping with mine.
“Why didn’t your relationship work out with the girl from Australia?” After asking one personal question, I found asking the second to be a lot easier. With everything that had happened in the last three days, I was tired, agitated, and, at that moment, rude.
Pointing to a copse at the far end of the garden, Michael said, “Let’s walk down there because it’s a long story — one my parents have not heard.”
After sitting on one of the benches, Michael began his story. “When I was in Burma, I picked up a parasite, which put me in hospital in Calcutta. At my fighting weight, I’m about 170–175, but I was now 130 lbs. and falling. The doctor said he was going to recommend that I be medically discharged because I was unfit for service. I told my commanding officer that if I went back to England, it would be a terrible burden on my parents. They had lost three brothers between them in the First War, and I did not want them to see me the way I was.