Shadows over Stonewycke Read online

  In the meantime, just a few months after their move to the city, Lady Margaret went to join her beloved Dorey. Her death was painless and peaceful; with the confidence of one going home at last, she joyfully relinquished this life and embraced the real life of eternity. And although the family mourned, they found joy amidst their tears in the certainty that they would all, at last, be reunited.

  Allison grieved for her great-grandmother’s passing, then threw herself with renewed vigor into her schedule of social activities. Keeping busy seemed to alleviate the pain of her loss, but gradually her life and Logan’s began to follow divergent paths. Too proud to admit his own insecurities, Logan put up a front toward the outside world, and without realizing it at first, toward Allison as well. Wrapped up in her own activities, she was unable to see the forces gnawing away at him until their communication had already broken down. When at length Allison began to sense that perhaps her husband was not as content as he seemed, she was unable to get him to open up in order to find what was bothering him.

  The situation was aggravated by Logan’s unstable employment status. The restaurant position, after a hopeful beginning, soon fell short of Logan’s expectations for advancement. He had conceived of himself as a public relations man and head maitre d’. But when the restaurant did not grow as anticipated, he found himself nothing more than a low-paid waiter, with little hope that more would be offered. His personality and connections had little trouble landing him jobs, even in the midst of hard times, but they led nowhere. Money was scarce and talented people were out of work everywhere. He took a position in a brokerage firm, but sitting behind a desk all day hardly suited his adventurous disposition. Besides, the investment trade was in terrible straits. Then came a string of dead-end jobs—shoe salesman, cab driver, hotel desk clerk, night watchman/janitor—each one appearing better than the last, but none in the end measuring up to Logan’s high hopes.

  Though the first five years of their marriage followed this pattern, they were not years without occasional moments of happiness. The foundation of love begun in their first days together helped transcend the tensions of their present lives. But time ate away at their faltering relationship, and the closeness they had once shared was not sufficient in itself to bolster a sagging foundation. Involved in personal frustrations, both Allison and Logan were too preoccupied to see that the focus of their lives had dramatically shifted. No longer were they putting the other first in their considerations, and no longer were they jointly looking for guidance from the God to whom they had committed their lives. Thus they were unable to see that He alone could deliver their marriage from the pitfalls toward which it was certainly bound.

  Letters back to Stonewycke veiled the problems. But during the two or three visits Joanna and Alec made during the time, the hidden frustrations could not help surfacing. Allison’s parents tried to intercede, but both Logan and Allison had so slipped back into their former tendencies that they were unable to listen humbly enough and let go of pride and selfishness enough to see the true nature of their need.

  4

  The Coming of War

  Curiously, in spite of the difficulties she and Logan had had, Allison found herself longing for a child. A baby, she hoped, would pull the two of them together, give them a common focus in life and perhaps renew their love. But for over four years this gift was denied them.

  Then in 1938, coinciding frighteningly with what Churchill called Hitler’s rape of Austria and later invasion of Czechoslovakia, Allison found that her prayers were answered. She could have wished for happier times to bring her new daughter, Joanna, into the world. But despite the tensions throughout Europe from Germany’s aggressive movements, Allison could not have been happier to welcome her mother into their simple London flat. Joanna would be staying to share the Christmas season with Allison and Logan and her new granddaughter.

  The child for a time drew her parents together again, but the change was temporary at best. Only a year later, in the fall of 1939, war finally came to France and Britain. By now the mask of their love had worn so thin that they had to admit all was not well. For Logan, the war only deepened his feelings of having failed—himself, his wife, and now his growing family. The moment hostilities were declared, he tried to enlist. His prison record, however, came back to haunt him. Though by most standards his offenses were minor ones, the mere hint of his having been involved in counterfeiting, coupled with his unexplained four months in Germany in 1929, placed Logan in what British Recruitment considered a “high risk” category. Logan could not divulge the details of the con he had been working on in Germany for fear of repercussions to friends; so, while his peers marched proudly off to fight the Germans, he had to bear the shame of remaining behind. No matter what he turned his hand to, it seemed he failed. He began to look back with longing to his pre-marriage days with Skittles and Billy. True, what he was doing then was not a virtuous pursuit. But he had been good at it—and enjoyed it.

  At least the financial worries of the depression years were now past since jobs were plenteous in wartime Britain. The war immediately spawned whole new industries, and now Logan took a low-level position in a munitions factory, hoping in time to move up. If he couldn’t join the war effort as a soldier, then he might as well do what he could behind the lines, and profit from it as well. However, the hoped-for advancement never came, and after nearly a year the assembly-line job had become pure drudgery. Allison had begun to think that perhaps he had settled down, though deep inside she knew him too well to believe he could be happy at such employment for long.

  In the spring of 1940, he came home early one day, casually planted a kiss on Allison’s cheek, and began to play with little Joanna, now a toddler, as if there were nothing unusual in his appearance in midafternoon.

  “Logan,” the inquisitive Allison asked, “you’re never home before six or six-thirty.” She tried to sound casual, but feared her voice betrayed her concern. “Is . . . anything wrong?”

  “I’ve got a new job.”

  “They’ve moved you to a new department?”

  Logan understood the thrust of her questioning well enough. They had been through the process enough times for him to sense her dissatisfaction with his unstable job situation without her having to say a word. But not inclined to argue just now, he too attempted to strike a casual attitude, as if they had never spoken of such things before.

  “No,” he answered, “that factory job wasn’t for me. I have a friend who’s found me something . . . more interesting. It’s perfect. No more job changes for a long time.”

  “Logan—” Allison began, her voice thinning in frustration. Then she stopped herself. “What is it?” she asked.

  “It’s in an office . . .” He hesitated a moment; Allison sensed immediately that he was holding something back.

  “You’ve never liked office work.”

  “This is different. I’ll be working for the government.” There was a slight defensiveness in his tone.

  “The government? But I thought—”

  “What’s the matter, don’t you believe me?” he snapped. “Why the third degree? I’ll be doing something to help the country!”

  “Of course I believe you. It’s just—”

  “Don’t worry. I’m making more money than at the factory.”

  “How could you say such a thing? You know your happiness means more than money to me.”

  “Your trips to Harrods would not seem to indicate that. Even with rationing, you’ve managed to run up a sizable bill.”

  “Logan—!” she protested, then turned away, biting her lip.

  Logan immediately regretted his harsh, defensive words. Haltingly he reached out to lay his hand on her shoulder, but she tensed beneath his touch.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “I’m only interested in you, Logan,” she replied in a trembling voice. “I just want so badly for you to be happy, and for us—to be . . .”

  “My dear Ali,” he rep
lied gently, gathering her into his arms, “that’s all I want, too—for you—for us both.”

  Thus the brief argument over Logan’s job ended, heated words giving way to the love for one another still struggling to surface. Yet notwithstanding, no lasting understanding between them was to be found. Allison’s specific questions with regard to Logan’s new position were forgotten in the immediacy of one brief moment of blissful togetherness. But he never did open to her further. And desiring no renewal of the tension, Allison swallowed her hurt and did not ask again, though with the passage of every new day she longed more than ever to know, to share his life. As still more time passed, a deep-set fear began to gnaw away at the edges of Allison’s consciousness—the dread that perhaps he had returned to his old ways. He occasionally spoke of his new “job,” but always in the most vague and general of terms. And what governmental position, she thought, would require such odd and irregular hours, and seemingly so much secrecy? Yet she steadfastly refused to believe he had reverted back to his life on the streets, and made a concerted effort to push such possibilities from her mind.

  In the summer of 1940, England began to gear up for the expected German invasion of the tiny island, essentially all that stood in Hitler’s way of a total conquest of Europe. With many in like circumstances, Allison made plans to leave London with their daughter, intending to return to the safety of Stonewycke until the danger of enemy attack had passed. In vain she tried to convince Logan to join her. But he insisted that his job responsibilities were too important to leave now. Again she questioned him without success as to the nature of what he did. His sudden loyalty, she said, hardly seemed characteristic of the man who had had no fewer than a dozen jobs in five years and had had little qualms about leaving any of them. Still he would reveal nothing, leaving Allison to make the journey north alone, and fearing the worst.

  “Well, I should at least have your office number in case I need to reach you,” she said at length with resignation in her voice. Such was not, however, her only reason for making that request.

  “I’ll be sure to call you two or three times a week,” he answered evasively.

  “But what if there’s an emergency? How will I get hold of you?”

  “Nothing’s likely to happen,” he replied, then paused. “Well . . . here’s a number, then. But only for an emergency, nothing else.” He quickly jotted a phone number down on a slip of paper and handed it to her.

  “Maybe I shouldn’t go, Logan,” Allison sighed as she took the paper. “I don’t want to leave you here alone. All this talk of invasion is probably just an overreaction. Last year everyone left the cities so worried, and nothing ever came of it.”

  “It’s different now that France has fallen,” said Logan. “The Nazis are only forty miles away, and they have no reason to hold back. Everyone knows Hitler’s only waiting for the right time to attack.”

  Allison sighed again. “I suppose you’re right. And you’d no doubt be happier if I went away,” she said, voicing the fear that was more real to her than any Nazi invasion.

  Logan turned away, shaking his head in frustration. “It has nothing to do with that!” he said angrily. Yet even as he spoke the words, he could not honestly say there was no truth in the accusation. Instead, he lamely added, “This is wartime, Allison. We both have things we have to do. Everyone is making sacrifices. Your father and brothers are in the army. You and your mother volunteer your time. Why can’t you let me have the chance to do my part, too?”

  “I didn’t know your job had anything to do with the war,” said Allison, trying to be sympathetic.

  “I didn’t say it did—exactly. But at least here in London I might have the opportunity to do something.”

  “You were doing something at the munitions factory—”

  “Are you going to start on that again?”

  Allison sighed. “I guess it is best I go. We can’t seem to talk about much of anything these days.”

  “We might be able to if you could only trust me a little.”

  Allison said nothing.

  “Besides, the fact is, it’s just not safe in London right now.”

  At that moment a waking cry came from the next room. Allison turned to go, and thus the conversation was kept from escalating further.

  Allison tarried in London another week, hoping somehow to convince Logan to leave with her. But in this effort she met with no success, and as the days passed she knew it would be foolhardy to expose their daughter any longer to the terrible German air raids. They had begun in early July and mounted in severity as the summer progressed.

  So in the end Allison returned north to Stonewycke. She arrived at her beloved home and fell into her mother’s arms hurt, confused, and even a bit lonely. But she dried the tears of her first day, by the second was able to breathe deeply again of the fragrant sea air, and on the third took baby Jo out for a walk. Inside, however, she remained silently afraid, wondering what her husband was doing during her absence, and what she would find upon her return.

  5

  Mother and Daughter

  Joanna saw her daughter in the distance as she crested the top of the snow-covered hill. Even from here Joanna could see the pensive, troubled expression—not at all like her usual confident self. Times had changed. Her daughter was a woman now, with all the cares of adulthood pressing upon her.

  It had been almost six months since her daughter and granddaughter had come to Stonewycke to escape the bombing in London. The year 1940 had been difficult, not only for their family, but for all of Britain. London had nearly been lost under the assault of the German air attack, and the threat of invasion remained ever present.

  It had been an especially hard time for Allison. Not only had the distance separated her from her husband, but their parting had not been on the best of terms. Of course it was wartime, and many women were having to deal with such anxieties. There were thousands who had lost their husbands. Unfortunately, such knowledge made it no easier for Allison. At least when I had kissed Alec farewell, thought Joanna; the embrace was tender, and each of us was sure of our abiding love. If only Allison possessed such a memory to carry her through!

  Logan had spent two weeks at Strathy during Christmastime. But Joanna sensed the awkwardness he felt, acutely feeling the absence of the other men, away at war while he comfortably celebrated a holiday with the women. Had that been his only discomfort, of course, the atmosphere might have been better. But the sensitive mother could tell there was still tension between Allison and Logan and if anything, it had worsened.

  If only they could shed their insecurities and self-centered motives, thought Joanna. Yet how much better would she have done at their age? Their faith may have cooled, but Joanna was certain it was not completely cold. They only needed something to remind them of life’s real priorities, and then to nudge them back along the right path. Hopefully something would come out of this difficult time to accomplish that. Joanna regretted that she could not be that instrument. But as respectful as the young people were, they did not always heed her words of wisdom.

  Dear Lord, Joanna silently prayed, I know they both have hearts for you. Do what you must to mature them out of themselves. Refocus their eyes, Lord, onto the needs of each other, and onto you.

  How often Joanna wished she possessed the compelling wisdom of her grandmother! But Lady Margaret was gone, and even after many years, sometimes when stumbling upon a familiar object or a dearly loved place, Joanna would often find herself in tears. There was nothing about the estate that had not in some way been touched by dear Maggie. Joanna doubted she would ever cease to feel her loss.

  Then Joanna smiled softly to herself. Grandma left her wisdom, too, she thought. As her presence and the memory of her smile linger in places and things so does her spirit linger through all the grounds of Stonewycke. Perhaps her wisdom, too, passed down from God through her, lingers in those of us whom she loved.

  “Oh, Lord,” whispered Joanna, “I know she lef
t me with a spiritual heritage that is not dependent on my own strength or insight. Through her I learned that my strength is in you. When I call on you, you are there. Continue her legacy, Lord. If it be your will, transfer the cloak of her wisdom to me, as she prayed on the very day of her death. And, like your servant Elisha, let me be faithful to serve you with it. Give me your wisdom, Lord God. And make me your faithful and obedient daughter.”

  Even as she voiced the prayer, as she had done on numerous occasions previously, Joanna’s thoughts went back to that day eight years earlier. No doubt sensing that her time was short and desiring her final moments to be spent with her dear granddaughter, Lady Margaret had called Joanna to her bedside. She smiled, for there was no fear in her, and took Joanna’s hand in hers.

  “I remember,” the peaceful old woman had said in a faint voice, “another time I thought I was dying. Even in my delirium back then I knew I could not die without passing on to you the heritage of Stonewycke, though I was nearly too late. But God spared me, and it was as though He had given me a second life. How many times since then have I given Him thanks for allowing me to live these later years of my life with you, and with my Ian!”

  “He must have known that I still had much to learn from you,” said Joanna lovingly.

  “You have learned well, my dear child. You have been an inspiration to me as well. I can go in peace to my rest.”

  “Oh, Grandma!” Joanna closed her eyes as they filled with tears.

  “You will no doubt cry much in the next days, Joanna. How I wish I could be there to comfort you! But you will have our Lord to rely on. Remember His words, ‘I must go away, that the Comforter can come.’ Let Him comfort you, my dear, for it is now my time to go away. You will not begrudge me going to my Ian?”

  “No, Grandma,” said Joanna, with a smile through her tears. “Tell dear Dorey I love him more than ever.”