Christobel

Christobel Part 2

Chapter 2

An hour later they were back in the drawing room with coffee and the remains of the white, dinner-accompanying wine (there had been four bottles; Mick never stinted on alcohol), replete after Pam's lasagne. She would normally have taken herself off to her flat after clearing everything away and tidying up, but this evening she stayed with the company. She didn't see as much of her other grandson and his slightly exotic (well, foreign) girlfriend as she would have liked, so she meant to take full advantage of their visit. And secretly, although she would never have admitted it openly, quiet, considerate Chris was her favourite. It wasn't that she didn't love Mick too, but he could sometimes be a handful, especially when his friends from the band descended upon the house. There was little tranquillity then, and there certainly hadn't been the previous Christmas, and she had been happy to keep well out of their way.

And for Pam, it was a pleasant change for there to be a subject of conversation other than Mick's music, although she did like Leah, the latest girlfriend. She had more about her than the usual ones, the groupies, who briefly attached themselves to him.

The talk was back on Chris's imminent move to Germany.

'Yes,' Pam said wistfully, 'your mother would have liked the idea of you moving to Europe, Chris. She'd have been all for you seeing the world, being such a rolling stone herself.'

The contented grin left Chris's face. He looked suddenly sombre. 'Yeah, poor Mum. It'll be, what, nine years next week since we lost her, won't it. Nine years already.'

'Yes, I know. Time flies.' Pam agreed. She asked Frieda, 'Has Chris told you about Jade, his mother, my daughter, my dear?'

Frieda glanced sideways at Chris, beside her on the Chesterfield, as if mutely asking permission to join in. 'Er, yes. It was a terrible thing. I am so sorry.'

Leah looked at Pam, puzzled, questioning. It seemed she hadn't had the tragic story from Mick too. But if she was hoping for elucidation, none came; instead there was an abrupt change of subject. 'It's nice to see the nursing tradition being carried on in the family, anyway,' Pam said, her face brightening, as if a cloud had passed over.

Now Chris was perplexed. 'Oh? Who else is there, Gran?'

Pam smiled. 'Oh, no one in recent times. Not for a very long time, actually. There was your great-great-granny, my grandma, on our side of the family. In fact she had the same name as you too. Well, the female form of it. One of them, anyway. Christobel, her name was. She nursed in the First World War.'

Chris was all attention now. 'Really? I didn't know I had an ancestor who did that.'

'Yes. And there's something else. She was with Edith Cavell.'

Leah asked, 'Who's that?'

Pam cautiously shifted her attention to Frieda again, reluctant to explain, wondering if she had put another foot in it. 'She was a nurse – well, the matron of a nurse training school in Belgium – who helped wounded soldiers and others who were simply stranded in occupied territory escape to Holland. She became a British heroine.'

'Oh really?' Leah said. 'That's fascinating.'

'Yes, isn't it? But it's a long time ago now', she added hastily. 'Nearly a hundred years. Things have moved on. We don't have cruel, stupid wars in Europe any more. We're more civilised now.'

'Yes, we are,' Frieda agreed. If she was annoyed by the war reference, she wasn't showing it.

Pam passed quickly on, onto safer ground. 'As a matter of fact, Chris, Christobel kept a diary. It's been passed down the family and I've got it now. It's one of my really treasured possessions. Would you like to read it?'