A Time of Peace Read online

  Beryl Matthews

  A TIME OF PEACE

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  A Time of Peace

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  A TIME OF PEACE

  Beryl Matthews was born in Putney, London, but now lives in a village in Hampshire. Beryl has always had a great love of books and she dreamed one day of becoming a published author. After retiring from her work as a credit controller, she joined a writers’ group, and her wish came true when Penguin published The Open Door in September 2002, followed by Wings of the Morning in September 2003.

  In her spare time – if any – Beryl enjoys swimming, golf and reading.

  To every thing there is a season,

  And a time to every purpose under the heaven:

  A time to weep, and a time to laugh;

  A time to mourn, and a time to dance;

  A time to rend, and a time to sew;

  A time to keep silence, and a time to speak;

  A time to love, and a time to hate;

  A time of war, and a time of peace.

  Ecclesiastes 3: 1, 4, 7, 8

  1

  May 1960

  This was it!

  Kate Freeman stood on the pavement in Fleet Street and gazed at the building in front of her. She was nervous, but at the same time so elated that she couldn’t stop smiling. The World Explorer was a newspaper renowned for its foreign coverage and respected for the way it presented the news without the sensationalism that you saw so much of these days. She’d wanted to be a part of it for some time. And this was the day the dream was about to come true.

  She had arrived early and intended to savour the moment, so she turned in a slow circle to look up and down the busy street.

  ‘Are you lost?’

  Kate grinned at the middle-aged man who had stopped to see if she needed help. ‘Oh, no, I know exactly where I am!’

  ‘Good for you.’ He gave a rueful smile at her obvious excitement and continued walking, lifting his hand in a wave as he disappeared into the crowd.

  She felt like doing a little jig of delight but managed to resist the temptation and retain her dignity in the crowded street. It was still hard to believe she had actually got the job, but she had the letter in her bag to prove it. She was about to become a photographer for the World Explorer!

  With one more glance at the gold lettering over the door, Kate walked into the foyer and up to the front desk.

  ‘Hello, I’m Kate Freeman and I’m starting work here today.’

  The receptionist gave her a friendly smile. ‘Take a seat, Miss Freeman, someone will be right down for you.’

  She was too nervous to sit, so she wandered around the foyer, examining the many photographs on the walls. They were good – very good – and she hoped to be as expert herself one day. Photography was her passion, but she was well aware that she still had a lot to learn. And this was the place to do it!

  She looked up to see a man in his early thirties striding towards her with a smile on his face.

  ‘You must be Miss Freeman.’ He shook her hand. ‘I’m Terry Jenkins, the paper’s senior photographer, and you’ll be working with me.’

  ‘Please call me Kate.’ He was tall and reed-thin, with brown hair and wide-set grey eyes. She liked him at once and hoped everyone was going to be this friendly.

  He glanced at the bag on her shoulder as they walked to the lift. ‘I see you’ve brought your own camera. May I have a look at it?’

  She handed it over when they reached the next floor, and, while he examined it, she glanced down the long room to the office at the end where she’d had her interview. She could see through the windows that it was empty, and she was relieved about that; she wasn’t sure she liked the man who had interviewed her.

  ‘That’s a beauty, a top-of-the-range Leica. They’ll give you one here, but it won’t be as good as this.’ He gave the camera back to her.

  ‘My parents bought it for me when I left college.’

  ‘A lovely gift.’ Terry studied her carefully. ‘And what have you been doing since then?’

  Kate’s smile was wide. ‘You mean do I have any experience?’

  ‘Well, the chief hasn’t told me much about you,’ Terry admitted.

  ‘Ah.’ That didn’t surprise Kate. Andrew Stevenson had been quite hostile during the interview, so it had come as a complete surprise when she’d received a letter saying she’d got the job. ‘In that case I’d better explain. I’m twenty-three years old. After taking a course in graphic design at art college, I worked for a professional photographer for a year, and then spent another year on a local newspaper.’

  ‘And what do you hope to achieve now you’re working for us?’ Terry leant on the edge of a desk and folded his arms, obviously wanting to find out as much as he could about her.

  Kate became serious. ‘I’ve been very lucky in my life, with a wonderful family around me. I would like to try and help those who are less fortunate than myself. This is supposed to be a time of peace, but there’s still too much fighting going on, and it’s the ordinary citizens of those countries who are suffering. Pictures can be very powerful, and I’d like the chance to bring their plight to everyone’s notice.’

  ‘A woman with passion.’ Terry pushed himself upright and smiled. ‘Welcome to the Explorer, Kate Freeman. I think it’s going to be interesting to work with you.’

  ‘My mother says that if you want something bad enough, you’ve got to get off your backside and fight for it.’ Kate gave a quiet chuckle. ‘If you want to meet someone with real passion and determination, then you ought to meet my mother, Rose Freeman.’

  ‘You must introduce me one day.’ Terry led her to the far end of the office. ‘Come on, I’ll show you the darkroom we use.’

  He took her to a well-equipped but untidy room. ‘You’ll be doing mostly developing and printing at first, but you’ll soon be given assignments. We’re in desperate need of another photographer.’

  ‘I know I’ll have to start at the bottom,’ she told him. She was aware that she was going to have to prove herself, but failure was not something Kate was prepared to contemplate. From her mother, Rose, Kate had inherited not only her dark hair and eyes but also a desire to uncover injustice and suffering, and this was something she took very seriously.

  ‘There’s a pile of films there with instructions for what is needed in the way of prints. Start on those and I’ll come and help you later. Then I’ll introduce you to everyone, and we’ll grab some lunch.’

  Kate sang the Elvis song ‘It’s Now or Never’ as she worked. In her darkroom at home she had a gramophone and a stack of the latest records, but she would have to make her own music here. She loved her own darkroom. It was a place she could spend hours experimenting with printing techniques, and very often her mother had to thump on the door to make her come out to eat. Time meant nothing to her when she was immersed in her passion, photography. When her brother, James, had told them two years ago that he was buying a house on Richmond Green, Kate had immediately claimed his room; and, with her father’s help, she soon had a lovely place to work in at home.

  Her easy laugh echoed around the Explorer’s darkroom as she remembered her brother’s protest that she couldn’t wait to get rid of him. That wasn’t true, of course, but he had always teased her. He would still ruffle her hair and call her a stubborn, weird kid. But she didn’t agree with that, preferring to think of herself as determined!

  She was happy and the time passed quickly.

  ‘You sound bright.’ Terry came to find her a couple of hours later and pulled the curtain back in place. ‘How have you been getting on?’

  Kate grinned at him in the gloom of the developing light. ‘I’m thrilled to have been
given this chance.’

  ‘There’s no accounting for tastes.’ Terry shook his head ruefully. ‘You’ll be worked like a slave, and the Chief, Andrew Stevenson, isn’t the easiest of men. His temper can be volcanic.’

  ‘He interviewed me and wasn’t very friendly, so I was staggered when I received the letter telling me I’d got the job.’

  Terry studied her thoughtfully. ‘To be honest, so am I. He’s anti-women and says he doesn’t like them littering up the newsroom.’

  ‘I’ll have to be careful, then.’ Kate pulled a face, knowing that was going to be difficult for her. Although she thought things through carefully before taking any action, once she had made her mind up she wouldn’t budge. Her mother said she had a stubborn streak a mile wide. Kate smiled to herself as she remembered the tussles they’d had while she’d been growing up, but she’d always been encouraged to speak her mind by her parents and she was incredibly grateful to them for that.

  ‘You know your job; this is excellent work.’

  She was relieved Terry approved. That was a good start, but she was going to have to watch her step around Mr Stevenson and try not to upset him, because if she did she’d be out. And that thought might curb her tongue because she wanted this job quite desperately.

  Terry switched on the main light. ‘Leave the rest, Kate. Most of the staff are in now, and I’ll introduce you before we have some lunch.’

  I’ll never remember every name, she thought, as she went from desk to desk. They were all men except for the woman on the switchboard, and that made her appointment even more puzzling. She hoped she was a competent photographer with some artistic flair, but she still had a way to go before she became as good as she intended to be. But this was a step in the right direction, and she’d learn a lot here.

  She listened to the banter in the busy newsroom with a smile on her face. After Terry had made the introductions, some of the men had gathered round her, and she didn’t miss the gleam of appreciation in their eyes. Without being vain, she knew she was pretty – beautiful some people said – but in her eyes there was only one real beauty in her family, and that was her mother.

  Her gaze swept around the newsroom again, looking for one person, but it was unlikely she’d recognize him anyway, because the only picture she’d seen of him had been a grainy newspaper one. He was the Explorer’s most-respected war correspondent, and she had followed his career avidly. She devoured his regular reports from many of the world’s trouble spots. If there was a war or uprising anywhere, Jon Devlin would be there. He had a wonderful way with words, and you got the impression that he really cared for the people he was writing about. How she’d love to do something like that one day.

  ‘Is there any chance of meeting Mr Devlin? Or is he still abroad somewhere?’ she asked when the introductions were over.

  ‘Jon – what on earth do you want to meet him for?’ A reporter named Mike Bowles snorted in disgust, but couldn’t hide his smile.

  In fact everyone was grinning. She glanced back at Terry, puzzled. ‘He’s a marvellous reporter.’

  ‘Can’t deny that, but he’s an unreliable sod.’ Terry pulled a face. ‘Excuse my language.’

  ‘Don’t worry about that,’ she said, laughing. ‘I’ve heard worse when my mother’s annoyed. So what’s he done?’

  Mike perched on the edge of his desk, eyes glinting with amusement. ‘He was supposed to get married last week. We were all at St George’s Church in Mayfair, wearing our best suits. Terry had set everything up for the photographs, and Jon never turned up.’

  ‘Where was he?’ She could picture the scene and felt sorry for the poor bride. What a terrible thing to happen.

  ‘Still in the Congo. A note arrived an hour before the wedding to say that he couldn’t get back.’ Mike shook his head, obviously still amused.

  In that case Kate was prepared to give him the benefit of the doubt. ‘Things are very tense out there – ’

  ‘Nah. If you ask me he got cold feet. I bet that’s the first sign of cowardice he’s ever shown.’

  Terry was nodding. ‘The only thing that frightens Devlin is commitment, and one thing’s for sure, Jane – that’s his fiancée – has finished with him. The message came just in time or she’d have been left at the altar. She’s not the kind of girl to stand for that.’

  Everyone in the newsroom had an opinion to venture, and they were still chatting a few minutes later.

  When a voice spoke from behind her, the men dived for their desks, and Kate was left standing alone in the middle of the room.

  ‘So you’ve arrived, then.’

  Kate turned round with a bright smile and looked into the glowering face of Andrew Stevenson, editor of the Explorer. ‘Yes, sir, and I’m looking forward to working here.’

  His expression was one of contempt as he spun on his heel and started to walk away, calling over his shoulder to Terry, ‘Keep a sharp eye on her. Damned woman!’

  Kate was stunned by his rudeness. As silence reigned in the newsroom, she watched his retreating figure until he reached his office, slamming the door so hard she expected the glass to shatter. She gave Terry a startled look. ‘I haven’t been here long enough to do anything wrong, so what’s he going to be like if I do make a mistake?’

  ‘If I were you,’ he said with a puzzled frown, ‘I wouldn’t want to find out.’

  ‘Do you have to replace the glass in his door very often?’ she asked, making a joke of the episode, determined not to let one man spoil her pleasure in her new job.

  ‘He never usually closes it.’ Terry guided her out of the office.

  ‘Oh, dear, I don’t like the sound of that.’ She shrugged as if shaking off something unpleasant, that remark about ‘damned woman’ had sounded personal, as if he were talking just about her and not about his dislike of women in general. That thought was quickly dismissed. She was imagining things; he’d employed her. So perhaps he was in a very bad mood today? She smiled at Terry. ‘Where do we have lunch? I’m starving.’

  ‘In the Hare and Hounds just down the road.’

  Lunch consisted of a ham sandwich and half a pint of beer with Terry and the reporter Mike Bowles. They were easy going, and Kate really enjoyed their company. After they wandered back to the office, Kate finished the printing, studying each picture carefully to see what kind of thing the paper was looking for. Of course she did this every day when the newspaper was delivered to their house, but it would be interesting to see what was used and what was rejected.

  She was clearing up when there was a tap on the door and Mike looked in. ‘Bring your camera,’ he ordered. ‘There’s trouble in Charing Cross Road.’

  Kate hurried after him and only just managed to shut the car door as Mike roared off along the road. She held on to the dashboard in alarm. Her father had taught her to drive last year, but he was a placid man and drove in a calm and controlled way. This was unbelievable: Mike was driving like a maniac.

  He gave her a quick glance. ‘Don’t look so scared. If we don’t get there soon, the action will be all over.’

  ‘We’ll be making headlines ourselves,’ she muttered under her breath, ‘if you drive like this.’

  Mike didn’t seem at all put out by her concern and accelerated as a gap appeared in the traffic. They arrived just as the crowds were dispersing. ‘Damn, looks like we’re too late, but shoot off a few pictures anyway,’ he said, jumping out of the car and hurrying off to see what it had been about.

  Kate followed and began taking pictures of Mike talking to a group of people and a policeman, who seemed to be the focus of everyone’s anger. She snapped away. This was her first job, and it was hard to contain her excitement.

  Mike made his way back, tucking his notebook into his pocket. ‘Don’t waste your film, Kate, there isn’t much of a story here.’

  ‘What was it about?’ she asked.

  ‘It was a protest about the introduction of traffic wardens in September. Can’t say I blame them.’
/>   She knew that the proposed system for penalizing motorists for illegal parking in London was not popular. They went back to the newsroom without a story, but Kate didn’t mind. She’d been taken out on a job on her first day and even got to take some pictures. That promised well for the future.

  Later that evening, Kate, sitting on the train home, felt tired, but she was bursting to tell her parents about her first day on the paper. She watched the passing scenery with a smile on her face. Her father had designed two houses in Roehampton for the Freemans, Kate’s family, and the Websters, her mother’s family, to live in. Her smile spread as she remembered him telling her how he’d had them built before he’d managed to persuade her mother to marry him. Rose Webster, as she had been then, had been driven by the desire to get her family out of the slums of London, believing that education was the key to open the door to a better life. Through great hardship and determination she had managed to go to university and become a solicitor. After that she had fought for a better deal for women, for improved housing and for anyone suffering injustice. Kate knew what a special woman her mother was. Although she no longer worked as a solicitor, having retired from business five years ago, Rose Freeman was still battling with injustice wherever she found it. And woe betide anyone who got in her way!

  ‘She only has to fix her dark gaze on any man to make him want to run for cover,’ Kate’s father had told her, his gentle eyes sparkling with respect and amusement.

  Ah, how she loved them both. But it was her father who had an extra special place in her heart. The second she’d been born, her mother told her, she’d looked at her dad, and the bond had been forged at that moment.

  The train arrived at Roehampton and Kate got out, her mind still mulling over the memories as she walked home. She considered herself one of the luckiest people she knew, for her family was the most important thing in her life. The things they had all done were incredible. Was it any wonder she was so proud of them!