Rosie James - Letters To Alice

But the girls preferred to wash their smalls themselves upstairs in their room, hanging everything to dry on an ancient wooden clothes horse which Mabel had thoughtfully provided. Fay had been adamant about this at the beginning.

‘I do not want my pants and bras being washed next to Walter Foulkes’s long johns, thank you very much,’ she’d said to the others after Mabel had invited the girls to let her do their washing for them, ‘And I certainly wouldn’t want them exhibited on the rail for general observation either,’ she’d added vehemently. And Alice and Eve had been in total agreement about that.

So on Saturday evenings, two black cauldrons, monstrous things, were lugged in from the scullery by Roger, filled with water, and set to heat on the range. And with her usual foresight, Mabel always made sure the water was ready well before it was needed.

And after the first bathing session, the ritual became a straightforward and normal event. Fay and Eve had never sat in a hip bath before, but it was nothing new to Alice. It was the only amenity available when they’d lived in Hotwells all that time ago.

Of course, the girls could all have bathed separately, but it would have taken a very long time, and without even thinking about it they’d elected to make it yet another shared experience. They placed each bath next to each other, but back to back to allow a certain amount of privacy, then filled enamel jugs, provided for the purpose, with piping hot water from the cauldrons, carrying the jugs carefully over to start the filling process. It took about five or six minutes for the baths to reach a satisfactory level, after which, part-immersion took place.

‘Blimey,’ Fay had said on the first night, as she dropped her head onto her bent knees. ‘Here we are again – the three wise monkeys! What a bloody carry-on.’ But she wasn’t grumbling…especially as the Radox bath salts she’d bought at the shop – and was sharing with the others – made the water feel lovely. And as they’d idly swish their hands and feet gently around, the warm steam and softly perfumed bath salts always made them feel totally relaxed as they’d chat about the day.

Then they’d wash their hair while still in the bath, presently helping each other to rinse it off with fresh water carried over from the cauldron and part-cooled from the tap. And there were always plenty of good, comfortable towels to dry themselves with, and to rub briskly at their hair. That always took Eve the longest, with her thick and copious curls and sometimes the others would take their turn helping her, rubbing and brushing until it was done. Even the simple ritual of the collective hair-drying process became a pleasure…something unhurried and enjoyable, and Alice couldn’t help feeling grateful all over again at how her life was. How it had always been, as if someone, somewhere, was making sure she had everything she needed to make her happy.

The very next morning a letter addressed to Alice arrived in the post. Before she even opened it she recognized the writing. Helena!

My dear Alice.

I was so pleased to receive your letter and to know where you are living – and what you are doing. My dear girl…I feel so proud that you are doing your bit for the war effort…I sincerely wish that I, too, could be more use in that regard, but I have not been very well lately, and anyway what on earth would they find for me to do!

I know only too well that whatever task you are set it will be done with your usual quiet efficiency and good humour. But do be careful, my dear. And please do not wear anything red when you are near the bull!

All the children are safe and well at school, and the professor is, of course, still very busy at the Infirmary. He lives there almost permanently now, but does return to the Clifton house from time to time to keep an eye on things. He does come to visit us in Wales as often as he can, and I am always so pleased to see him. One of the hateful things about this wretched war is that so many are parted from their loved ones. But we shall all be back together again one day, I know it.

Sam is now training at yet another hospital in London. I am afraid we do not hear from him very often, but the poor darling is apparently always up to his eyes. He did ring me up – very briefly – but that was weeks ago! I pray for his safety every night. London is not the safest place to be.

Take good care of yourself, my dear girl. I am so proud of you – as Ada would be. One day we will surely all be able to return to our old way of life and some normality. What a lot we shall have to tell each other!

With my love to you – Helena.

PS

I have sent on your new address to Sam because I am sure he will be interested. Perhaps he will find time to write to you, even if he doesn’t to me! I know you used to exchange letters, and he was always very fond of you.

For several moments, Alice could hardly move from where she was standing. She was glad to be alone in their bedroom, the others having already been despatched to their various duties, because she wanted a few moments to drink in what Helena had written. She wanted a few moments to savour the words – words which included her name with Sam’s…as if the very act of joining them together in the same sentence somehow provided a precious link…

She read the letter again, more slowly, Helena’s lovely character shining through the page. How lucky, how immensely lucky, she, Alice, was to have been part of that family. How lucky that Ada had applied for the position of nanny to their children all those years ago.

Alice let her moistened eyes linger on the best bit of the letter. “He was always very fond of you.”

Then she put it back into the envelope carefully, and put it with the rest of the treasures in her suitcase.

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