What Ralph didn’t know until he had made some inquiries was that the young sheep farmer had already approached Beth’s father and asked for his daughter’s hand in marriage. Mr. Trevelyan had not only agreed to the match, but offered to hold the reception in his pub.
Despite these setbacks, Ralph assumed that once Beth knew of his interest, she wouldn’t be able to resist his charms, as had been the case with several of the village girls. Not Beth, however, because when he invited her to tea at Nethercote Hall, she failed to reply. The young woman clearly didn’t know her place.
As the weeks passed and several more invitations to tea, drinks, and even a trip to London were refused, Ralph was at a loss to understand her attitude, not least because he wasn’t in the habit of being rejected. In desperation, he resorted to suggesting a weekend in Paris, only to be turned down once again. The weeks turned into months, and nothing he came up with seemed to interest her, which only caused Ralph to become more and more obsessed with the Cornish beauty, until he could bear it no longer. He finally turned up at the Nethercote Arms unannounced and asked the publican for his daughter’s hand in marriage. Mr. Trevelyan was left speechless, until Ralph added a sweetener he felt confident would seal the bargain. Of course, Ralph had no intention of marrying the girl, but was determined to discover what it would be like to remove her seven veils. However, Beth was not Salome, and in any case, she already knew the man she was going to spend the rest of her life with, and it certainly wasn’t Ralph Dudley Dawson, Esq.
Although her father had given Jamie his blessing, neither of them had taken into consideration Beth’s mother, who, like any self-respecting barmaid, knew an opportunity when she saw one. On hearing the news of the squire’s interest, Mrs. Trevelyan didn’t waste a moment, attempting to persuade, cajole, and even bully her daughter into accepting his proposal. However, Beth continued to resist her mother’s blandishments, until she discovered she was pregnant.
When Beth informed her parents who the father was, her mother was quick to point out that Jamie Carrigan was a penniless shepherd who rented forty acres of land and lived in a small cottage on the estate of a wealthy gentleman who wanted to marry her. However, Beth remained resolute in her determination to marry her lover, until the squire failed to renew the five-year lease on Jamie’s forty acres, and also threatened to replace Mr. Trevelyan as landlord of the Nethercote Arms, if his daughter didn’t accept his proposal.
The hastily arranged marriage—Ralph couldn’t wait—took place in a register office in Truro, and the reception was not held at Nethercote Hall for those in high places but at the Nethercote Arms for a select few, as Ralph didn’t want his friends to realize he’d married below his station.
* * *
Mr. and Mrs. Dudley Dawson spent their honeymoon on the island of Rhodes, where there was little chance of them bumping into anyone they knew. When Ralph watched his wife undress for the first time, he was entranced by Beth’s Botticelli figure, even more voluptuous than he’d imagined. But when they finally made love, he was disappointed by her lack of enthusiasm, and assumed it was simply because she was a shy virgin, and that given time Beth would come to enjoy his particular sexual fantasies.
Not long after the newlyweds had returned to Nethercote, Beth announced she was pregnant. Ralph wasn’t surprised, after all they hadn’t stopped making love during their honeymoon. Five times a night, Ralph boasted to his friends, unaware that Beth was doing no more than carrying out her mother’s instructions.
Seven months later, Rupert Dudley Dawson entered the world, or at least that was the name that appeared on the birth certificate. Ralph showed no surprise at the premature birth, but did admit he was disappointed that young Rupert hadn’t inherited the Dudley Dawsons’ distinctive red hair and prominent nose. All in good time, he assured his friends, because like the Royal Family, Ralph would require an heir and a spare. Indeed, this mundane tale might not have advanced beyond the fate of a sad, unrequited woman and an overbearing, arrogant man, had Germany not marched into Poland on September 1, 1939.
* * *
Young Jamie Carrigan was among the first to report to the nearest recruiting office and sign up to serve his King and Country with the Duke of Cornwall’s Light Infantry. But then, he had lost his one true love and sought an honorable death.
Ralph, on the other hand, had no intention of joining up, and as he was over forty—just—was exempt from conscription. So while Jamie went off to fight the king’s enemies, Ralph took advantage of the government’s voracious appetite for more food to feed the troops, which only made him grow richer, while his marriage became impoverished.
Within a year of his betrothal, the squire’s eye began to wander, and with so many of his countrymen serving on the front line, his choice became even wider. He told his chums that despite Beth’s unquestionable beauty, a chap needed variety. Caviar was all very well, he’d declared, but a fellow also needed the occasional dish of fish and chips.
It wasn’t long before Ralph began to ignore his wife, and the only joy left in Beth’s life was young Rupert, who she feared was looking more like Jamie with each passing day. Every night she would fall on her knees and pray that her former lover would survive the war and return home safely, but the only news she heard of him came from those soldiers home on leave who, whenever Jamie’s name was mentioned, repeated the words brave, fearless, and foolhardy.
Beth began to fear she might never see him again, but then, like so many of his comrades, he was wounded on the battlefield and sent home to recover. When she first saw Jamie limping through the village on crutches, she immediately realized what a terrible mistake she’d made, and it wasn’t long before their dormant affair was rekindled.
It would be wrong to describe what took place during the next six weeks as an affair, because they fell even more deeply in love the second time around. But when Beth once again became pregnant, she realized she would have to tell her husband the truth, not least because he would know that this time it couldn’t be his child.
Beth planned to tell him as soon as the doctor had confirmed she was with child, and would have done so when she returned home that afternoon, had the parlor maid not informed her that the squire had driven into Truro for an unscheduled meeting with his solicitor.
Beth was relieved that Ralph must have somehow found out that she was pregnant, and was well prepared to face the consequences whatever wrath might be brought down on her. She sat alone in the drawing room waiting for her husband to return so she could tell him the truth. If he refused to give her a divorce, Beth had already decided she would move out of the manor house and go and live with Jamie in his little cottage. But when Ralph returned several hours later, he marched into the house, slammed the front door, and disappeared into his study without a word passing between them.
Beth sat alone for hour upon hour until she could bear it no longer, and finally summoned up the courage to face him. She left the drawing room, walked slowly across the hall, and knocked quietly on his study door.
“Come,” said a terse voice. She entered the room shaking, and without even turning to face her, Ralph handed her what looked like a legal document. She read the letter twice, before she realized what had made him so angry. It was a directive from the War Office requiring him to report to his local recruitment office. The summons pointed out that the call-up age had been extended from forty-one to fifty-one, and he was therefore now eligible to join the armed forces. The only choice they gave him was the army, the navy, or the air force. Beth decided this wasn’t the time to let her husband know that she was pregnant.
The following day, Ralph lost his temper with the family doctor when the damn man refused to sign a certificate citing his flat feet as a reason he should be exempt from war service. But Ralph didn’t give in quite that easily. He immediately wrote to the Ministry of Agriculture, pointing out the vital role he was playing in the war effort. However, an undersecretary made it clear, by return of post, that being a landown
er didn’t qualify him for exemption.
Undaunted, Ralph continued to search for any string he could pull to avoid being sent to the front line. He filled in applications for the Intelligence Corps—unqualified; the NAAFI—overstaffed; and the Home Guard—too young. After a month of fruitless delays, he finally accepted that he had no choice but to report to officer-training school in Berkshire. Three months later he passed out of Mons as Second Lieutenant Ralph Dudley Dawson, Esq., and was told to report back to his regimental headquarters in Truro, where he would receive his marching orders.
Beth would have enjoyed Ralph’s three months’ absence if Jamie hadn’t fully recovered—for which she felt partly to blame—and been ordered to return to his regiment. The difference was, this time he wanted to live.
Before Jamie left, Beth wrote to her husband and told him that she would be seeking a divorce as soon as the war was over. He didn’t reply.
* * *
On returning to Truro, the newly gazetted subaltern suggested to his commanding officer that his particular skills might be put to better use serving on the home front. However, as the colonel was unable to identify any such skills, Second Lieutenant Dudley Dawson was ordered to join the fifth battalion of the Duke of Cornwall’s Light Infantry at Caen. That was when Ralph had his first stroke of luck. He was seconded to Command Headquarters behind Allied lines, where he quickly made himself invaluable, as he didn’t intend to come face to face with the enemy if he could possibly avoid it.
During her husband’s absence, Beth wrote him a second letter, fearing he might not have received the first, but once again Ralph didn’t reply. He assumed the affair would quickly fizzle out, and she would surely fall in line. After all, think what she would be giving up.
Less than a mile away, serving on the front line, was Corporal Jamie Carrigan, who had just been promoted, and put in charge of his own section. As the regiment continued its advance toward the German border, Jamie was becoming more and more confident that the war was coming to an end, and it wouldn’t be too long before he would return to Nethercote, marry the woman he loved, and continue to farm his modest leasehold while Beth raised their children.
Unfortunately Ralph was also considering what he would do once the war was over and he had been demobbed. He’d already decided not to extend the lease on Carrigan’s forty acres when it came up for its annual renewal. He would give the man thirty days’ notice and tell him to vacate the cottage and seek employment elsewhere. He also intended to renege on his agreement with Mr. Trevelyan to waive any future rent on the Nethercote Arms. After all, there was nothing in writing. Ralph assumed such threats would surely bring his wife to her senses, but even if she didn’t fall in line, he had no intention of divorcing her.
* * *
It was after the colonel’s morning meeting with his staff officers that he asked Captain Dudley Dawson to stay behind.
“Ralph,” said the commanding officer once they were alone, “a problem has arisen that I need you to deal with discreetly. We’ve lost radio contact with the other battalion, and I need to urgently get a message to their commanding officer and let him know that I intend to advance at first light. Otherwise I’ll be stuck here until communications are restored.”
“Understood, sir,” said Dudley Dawson.
“I can’t pretend the assignment isn’t risky, and wonder if you can think of anyone who might be relied on to carry out such a dangerous mission.”
“I know just the man,” said Dudley Dawson, without hesitation.
“Good, then I’ll leave all the details to you. Report back to me the moment your man returns—” he hesitated, “or doesn’t.”
Captain Dudley Dawson left the colonel’s tent, jumped into his jeep and asked to be taken to the front line, which took his driver by surprise as he’d never been there before. On arrival, he immediately briefed Carrigan’s section commander on the proposed mission. The young lieutenant was surprised by the colonel’s choice of runner, remembering that the regiment’s cross-country champion was also in his platoon, but he wasn’t in the habit of questioning his commanding officer’s orders.
Ralph watched from a distance as Lieutenant Jackson briefed Carrigan on the importance of the assignment. A few minutes later, the corporal climbed out of the trench, and without looking back set off across no-man’s-land.
“How long do you think it will take him to reach the other battalion?” asked Ralph after Jackson reported back to him.
“If he makes it, sir, an hour at the most. But then he still has to get back.”
“Let’s hope he does,” said Ralph in his most sincere voice.
Lieutenant Jackson nodded and said, “God help the man.”
Ralph didn’t believe in God, but decided he would hang around for a couple of hours or so before he reported back to the colonel that sadly Carrigan had not returned, and therefore the mission would have to be aborted.
An hour passed and there was no sign of Carrigan. Another fifteen minutes, still no sign. But Ralph remained huddled in a corner of the trench for another half hour before he allowed himself the suggestion of a smile.
“Damned fine effort,” he said to Lieutenant Jackson, who was peering through a pair of binoculars across the wooded landscape. “One couldn’t have asked more of Carrigan,” continued Ralph as he checked his watch. “Well, I’d better get back to HQ and let the colonel know that the advance will have to be delayed until we can make radio contact. Damn fine effort,” he repeated. “I’ll be recommending to the colonel that Carrigan is awarded the Military Medal for service above and beyond the call of duty. It’s the least he deserves,” he added before he began to crawl along the trench.
“Hang on, sir,” said Lieutenant Jackson. “I think I can see someone in the distance.”
Ralph crawled back, fearing the worst. “He’s about a hundred yards away,” added Jackson, “and heading straight for us.”
“Where?” said Ralph, leaping up and staring across the barren terrain.
“Get down, sir,” shouted the lieutenant, but he was too late, because the bullet hit Captain Ralph Dudley Dawson, Esq. in the forehead, and he sank back down into the mud just as Carrigan dived into the trench.
* * *
The Duke of Cornwall’s Light Infantry continued their advance toward Berlin at first light, while a coffin containing the body of Captain Dudley Dawson was shipped back to England, along with a letter of condolence from his commanding officer. The colonel was able to assure the grieving widow that her husband had sacrificed his life while serving his country on the front line.
The fifth battalion of the Duke of Cornwall’s Light Infantry won a great battle that day, and a year later at a service held in Truro Cathedral, the name of Normandy was added to the regimental colors.
Among those seated in the congregation was Corporal Jamie Carrigan MM, along with his wife and two children, Rupert and Susie. Unfortunately, Ralph Dudley Dawson, Esq. hadn’t considered the possibility of mortality, and died intestate. His wife, being the next of kin, inherited a thousand-acre estate, ten thousand sheep, Nethercote Hall, and all his other worldly goods.
Jamie Carrigan never thought of himself as the local squire, just a farm manager who’d been lucky enough to marry the only woman he’d ever loved.
THE CAR PARK ATTENDANT
IT WOULD NEVER have happened if his uncle Bert hadn’t taken him to the zoo.
Joe Simpson wanted to play football for Manchester United, and when he was selected to captain Barnsford Secondary Modern, he was confident it could only be a matter of time before United’s chief scout would be standing on the touchline demanding to know his name. But by the time Joe walked onto the pitch for the last match of the season, not even the Barnsford Rovers coach had bothered to come and watch him, so with only one GCE (maths), he was at a bit of a loss to know what he was going to do for the rest of his life.
“You could always join Dad as a council car park attendant,” suggested his mum. “At
least the pay’s steady.”
“You must be joking,” said Joe.
It only took a month and seven job interviews for Joe to discover it was the council car park, or stacking shelves at the local supermarket. Joe was just about to sign on the dole and join what his dad called “the great unwashed” when he was offered a job at the Co-op.
Joe lasted ten days as a shelf stacker before he was shown the door, and he had to admit to his mum that perhaps it hadn’t helped when he put two hundred cans of Whiskas next to the prime cuts of beef.
“A vacancy’s come up at Lakeside Drive car park,” his father told him, “and if you want, lad, I could have a word with boss.”
“I’ll do it for a couple of weeks,” said Joe, “while I look for a real job.”
Joe wouldn’t admit to his father that he rather enjoyed being a car park attendant. He was out in the open air, meeting people and chatting to customers while working out how much to charge them once they’d told him how long they wanted to park; something his dad had never got the hang of, but then he hadn’t got an GCE in maths.
Joe quickly got to know several of the regulars, and the cars they drove. His favorite was Mr. Mason, who turned up in a different vehicle every day, which puzzled Joe, until his dad told him he was a second-hand car dealer, and he probably liked to know what he was selling.
“Your dad’s right,” Mr. Mason told him. “But it’s even more important to know what you’re buying. Why don’t you come over to the showroom sometime, and I’ll show you what I mean?”
The next time Joe had a day off, he decided to take up Mr. Mason’s offer and visit the car showroom. It was love at first sight when he saw the Jaguar XK120 in racing green, and second sight when he saw the boss’s bookkeeper in dashing red, but neither was available for a council car park attendant. Not least because Molly Stokes had seven GCEs and had also taken a bookkeeping course at Barnsford Polytechnic.
From that day on, Joe found any excuse to visit Mr. Mason, not to see the latest models, but to talk to the first girl he didn’t think was soppy. Molly finally gave in and agreed to go to the cinema with him to see John Wayne in The Quiet Man, not Molly’s first choice. The following week they went to see Spencer Tracy in Pat and Mike, her choice, and Joe accepted that was how it was going to be for the rest of their lives.