Angels in the Gloom_ A Novel - Anne Perry [11]
A quick enthusiastic smile lit Miss Darnley’s face. “Oh, yes! It’s a marvelous opportunity. It’s almost the only advantageous thing about the war—that women are getting the chance to do all kinds of jobs we were prevented from before. It’s my belief that one day we really will get the vote. And then the next thing will be to become part of the government.”
Hannah had meant her remark only as a pleasantry. “Yes, I suppose so,” she said confusedly. She thanked Miss Darnley again and took her leave. But outside in the street the sense of fear persisted. A horse and cart clattered past her, and an automobile went the other way. She had not realized until now quite what dignity and grace there had been in the certainties of life. It was not just the outer peace that everyone could see, but an inner quality as well, a gentleness that was utterly gone.
She almost bumped into the young man in flannel trousers and blazer coming the other way. She started to apologize, then realized it was Ben Morven, one of the scientists who worked for Shanley Corcoran in the Scientific Establishment. She had met him several times here in Cambridge or in the village. She liked his warmth, the way he laughed at some of the absurdities of life and yet treasured the old and simple things, just as she did.
“How are you?” he asked with a flicker of concern.
“I’m well,” she assured him. “Just a little off-balance to find my bank manager has been replaced by a young woman.” She smiled back at him ruefully.
“It’s only temporary,” he replied with a little twist of his mouth. “When the war’s over and the men come home, she’ll go back to whatever it was she did before. She’ll have two or three years at most.”
“Do you think so?” Then as she laughed she was ashamed at her eagerness, and found herself blushing.
They were walking side by side in the sun up King’s Parade. The traffic seemed to have eased. It was nice not to have to explain her feelings to him, even if it was a little embarrassing to be understood so well. She knew something about him already. He came from a small town on the coast of Lancashire, a scholarship boy from a very ordinary family. His mother had died when he was about Jenny’s age and there was a yearning in him for the light and the sweetness of the past. When she had mentioned the death of her own mother, she had seen the swift gentleness in his eyes. No words were necessary to tell him of the grief that still descended on her without warning, almost taking her breath away.
That evening Shanley Corcoran came to see Joseph. Hannah was delighted for her own sake as well. Since her father’s death the children had had no grandparents. Archie’s family lived in the far north and poor health prevented them from traveling. Corcoran told them marvelous stories and made the world seem like an exciting place, full of color and mystery. For Hannah, he was inextricably tied to the memories of family life, childhood, times when pain was brief and permanent loss unimaginable.
Corcoran arrived with a wave of enthusiasm, leaving the door wide open onto the clear evening outside. He was of average height and build, and remarkable for the vitality and intelligence in his face. His hair was white but still thick and his eyes were unusually dark and seemed to burn with energy.
He spoke to them all, asking after each, but he was too eager to see Joseph to wait for more than the briefest of answers. Hannah took him upstairs after a few moments.
Joseph felt his spirits lifting simply because Corcoran was there. Suddenly the idea of rest seemed a waste of opportunity. He wished to be well again and do something. When Corcoran asked him how he was, he replied drily, “It holds me up a bit.”
Corcoran laughed; it was a bright, infectious sound. He sat down on the chair beside the bed. “Doesn’t stop you talking, anyway,” he observed. “It’ll be good for Hannah to have you here, at least for a while. As soon as you’re on your feet