Flanders Spring

By Verity Blethyn

A sequel to Suzanne's Peace, this book is set in early 1920, and follows Suzanne, her family and friends, and some who are less than friendly. They are all negotiating the consequences of the war and the peace, the social and psychological changes for those who fought and those who did not, and grief for lost lives, lost health, destroyed land and homes, and pre war certainties. The destroyed town of Ypres, its nearby villages, the family farm and the village of Geluveld are also characters in this story of a Belgian family and the foreigners who come and go on their home soil, amid a time of great change.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Verity Blethyn
• Release date: Aug 6, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463463963

Book preview

E & S Mertens & Co Building Supplies Ypres March 1920

Tick tock, tick tock. I hate that stupid clock, it’s so loud and slow. Suzanne kicked her wooden shoes against the shop counter. Still only five past three." There was a clanking sound from outside.

Hello Miss Mertens, any more orders for me? It was Jans the delivery boy, with Robert the donkey and his cart. She rushed outside, happy for a diversion, and fondled Robert’s long silky ears.

You can load the next 500 bricks for the Grand Place delivery Jans; I’ll get Robert some water and oats.

The donkey was an old friend, named after her dead brother for his stubborn nature and occasional temper, but Jans was an employee, only thirteen and inclined to be lazy. From the lofty height of sixteen Suzanne was determined to work him hard. It said E & S Mertens on the signboard, and she was a partner, with her trainee architect brother Etienne. And Ypres was a town that was building, or at least rebuilding, very hard. All over the town folk were busy demolishing the blackened ruins left from four years of close war, and rebuilding their homes and shops with money from the Government. Money the Belgian government were getting from the Germans in war reparations and handing on to their citizens to rebuild their blighted homes, businesses and farms.

As Robert contentedly chewed oats and Jans reluctantly loaded bricks onto the cart, the shop bell clanged. Still not a customer, this time the visitor was Suzanne’s mother Marie.

Hello love, I’m sorry to bother you here, but guess what - Aunt Josephine and Cousin Louise and baby Sebastian are at the station, they’re coming here now and they’ve brought presents.

Suzanne dashed out of the yard to see a procession coming towards her. Led by stately Josephine, her French aunt who had housed them in Hazebrouck during the war when they had fled the bombs in Ypres, one station boy was trying to combine pulling a luggage cart and pushing a bicycle. Another boy had two bicycles to push and was followed by Cousin Louise with her nineteen month old wartime baby son.

Ah, Suzanne, said Josephine, addressing her in French, these are for you, Etienne, and your sister. Which would you like?

May I have the green one? said Suzanne, grinning from ear to ear. Thank you Aunt, what a perfect gift! She turned to Jans, who had followed her in curiosity. Speaking to him in Flemish she snapped These are my family; please carry on with the loading, then in French to Josephine and Louise this is my delivery boy, Jans. Josephine could speak Flemish, she had grown up on the family farm near Ypres, but she chose not to when she could. Louise understood Flemish but was not fluent.

Thank you boy, said Josephine, handing the lead boy with the cart a coin. You can return now. You, she glared at the boy with two bikes, follow us please.

Can you ride the bike home later Suzanne? asked Marie. Suzanne smiled assent, and the cavalcade moved off again, with Marie now towing the luggage cart. Louise blew her a kiss as she turned away. There would be plenty of time later to gossip.

Suzanne wheeled her new green bike into the yard and stood admiring it. Jans joined her when he had finished with the bricks. Looks nice, he said, lucky you.

Thanks, I think Robert is ready now. She took the oats bag and opened the yard gate for Jans. He plodded out at Robert’s head, and Suzanne decided that she had best cut some chain and get a good padlock, or three bikes in Ypres would not be safe for very long.

At six Suzanne cashed up, got Jans to stable Robert, and tip the cart on its end, and she locked up the yard. With the day’s takings in a tin box in her shoulder bag, she sat astride the green bike, her skirts resting above the curved frame. It felt wonderful to sit on a bicycle again, the first time since doing shop deliveries for Aunt Josephine in Hazebrouck during the war. She kicked off gingerly, wobbled a little, and got her balance down the darkening streets near the station, past the mixture of ghostly ruins and building sites that was 1920 Ypres. She came to the present heart of the city, the forest of small huts laid out in rows in the old recreation ground, the Minneplein. First call, Cousin Lizette’s hut, where she lived with her husband Pieter, shop bookkeeper and part-time staff, and their landlord, Suzanne’s grandfather’s old friend M George Samuels.

Pieter was in; he took the takings, order book, keys and stock sheets and agreed to work the shop for the next few days while Suzanne’s family were visiting. He also promised to pass a message to Etienne who lodged with them, when he arrived from work. Next stop was the Mertens’ family hut, where Suzanne lived with Marie and her younger sister Amelie. The other two bikes were at the side, and Suzanne threaded the chain from her shoulder through all three bikes and one of the hut legs, and snapped the padlock shut.

As she opened the door, the hut was a picture of coziness. The stove was hot, and Marie busy cooking, while Josephine chatted quietly to her. Amelie was playing with the baby, and Louise making adjustments to bedding arrangements. Amelie glanced at Suzanne, her eyes like saucers, and Louise gave her the cousinly hug denied at the shop by the presence of inquisitive boys.

Suzanne, could you leave a message for Etienne that Josephine and Louise are here? asked Marie. Already done, Mother. Ah, good, and Marie turned back to the dinner and her sister in law.

So, how are things with you, Louise? asked Suzanne. Lots to tell, replied Louise, eyeing Amelie on the floor with the baby, but first, really, I’m so shocked at the state of the city. Not a whole building anywhere! Ypres is just a heap of blackened bricks!

You should have seen it a year ago, when we came. I swear you could still smell the smoke then, even five months after the war ended. Now at least they are mostly tidy piles of bricks, and the city is full of building sites. That’s why we started the yard, Etienne and me; we thought we could make our fortune.

Have you? And where did you find the money?

That’s a story for another day. Tell me how things are in Hazebrouck? How are Uncle Victor and Pierre?

Oh, Suzanne, Louise dropped her voice to a hush. Father is even worse than before the war. He is just angry all the time, he drinks and drinks, then he is either crying in his wine or starting a fight. Mother is here to get away from him. Even lower, she whispered, he beats her.

No! Not Aunt Josephine, she’s so strong!

Just then there was a loud Josephine! Surely not! from Marie, who glanced over to the girls and said, Come in the back room and Suzanne, mind the dinner please.

Suzanne moved over to the stove and, including Amelie in the conversation, she asked in a normal tone, Is Uncle Victor suffering from his war experiences?

Well, he was always moody, as you all know, but yes, I think so, who knows what he sees when he closes his eyes? Louise pondered. I think he has gone over the edge, and he won’t see a doctor. He doesn’t want to go to the mad house. There are so many men broken by the war, in body or mind.

‘How Louise has changed,’ thought Suzanne. ‘She was so fun-loving and light-hearted before the baby, and before she was so ill with the flu. The war has changed everyone.’

So, are you keeping Aunt Josephine company for the journey? asked Amelie.

Well, I wanted to see you all, and Grandfather, and my brother, and the farm, and to show everyone what a big boy Sebastian is now, replied Louise. He gurgled and waved his arms at the familiar sound of his name. Amelie’s stomach rumbled and she asked, Louise, what does Sebastian like to eat?

Oh, he loves apples, do you have any?

Yes! We have loads; they’re under the bed in the back room. Grandfather said we should make the most of the apple crop so we picked the whole lot in October last year. We borrowed baskets from everyone and brought them back here, on the cart. It was such fun! Mother said we should wrap all the best ones in thin paper and lay them on cardboard under the beds and they’d last the winter, and they have! Franciscus gave us the cardboard from the packing for the huts. He got loads of apples too. I’ll get one when Mother and Auntie come out - oh here they are, I’ll get one now.

Marie had a black look on her face, and Josephine was buttoning her blouse. We’re going for a little walk, she said, I’ll serve up when we get back. Where is Etienne?

Amelie selected a good sized apple, only a little wrinkled, and Louise showed her how to chop it into wedges. Sebastian had one in each hand and gnawed on them alternately, dribbling happily. Louise threw Amelie a cloth to wipe his face before she used her dress.

The door banged open, and a tall, slim man in dusty blue serge broke the feminine cosiness.

Etienne! exclaimed Louise. She ran into his bear-hug. How long? It must be four years! How you’ve grown!

I was called up in March 1916, so yes, you must be right, four years. How are you Louise? You look lovely, so maternal!

Suzanne says you are an architect now. How is that after soldiering?

Well, I’m a trainee architect. M. Coomans the city architect took me on as his assistant. As you can see, there is too much work here! The whole city must be rebuilt, and Grandfather wants plans for rebuilding the farm. How is your husband, is he here? I’d like to meet him.

Oh, Pierre is still in Hazebrouck, but this is Sebastian, my son.

Ah yes, Mother and the girls told me about him, he looks very bright there, does he speak yet?

He’s only nineteen months old yet, he’ll talk soon - he’s walking. Hey, Sebastian, come to Mama. This is your Uncle Etienne.

Etienne, were you born in a barn? You’ve left the door wide open! Marie pushed past him, and Josephine followed, closing the door.

Hello, young nephew, she said warmly, putting forward her cheek for him to kiss. It’s good to see you well and whole.

Supper, called out Suzanne. Let’s eat.

Chapter 2

In the morning, Suzanne woke to a commotion outside. It was late for her, almost eight, and she slid out of bed without disturbing Amelie, dressed quickly, and poked her head out of the hut window. The commotion was caused by a small crowd of children, mostly boys, who had gathered in the lane between the rows of huts to admire a large touring car. It was making its way slowly along the lane, a route not suited to motor vehicles.

The excited crowd nudged and elbowed each other, pointing out the shining headlamps, the black painted running board that would fit an adventurous child for a short ride, the large flat glass panel at the front which might keep flies and the wind away from the driver, and the presence of a full roof, hard, with a sturdy rack, useful for sheltering from a sudden rainstorm. Gleaming shiny mudguards also attracted attention.

The car drew up, with a cloud of dust, outside Suzanne’s hut, to a round of polite applause from the crowd. The driver dismounted, and doffed his cap with a theatrical bow to his audience, exposing a shock of reddish blonde hair. Suzanne closed the window and slipped out of the door as everyone inside started to move about.

Ivor, how wonderful! she said in English. Ivor bowed again, opened the front passenger door, and held out his hand to support her onto the running board and into her seat. There was a respectful murmur from the crowd, and Suzanne lapped up every second. Inside she said quietly, Please drive me to the privy. I’m in a hurry but I mustn’t disappoint my fans. Oh Suzanne, how I have missed you! he said, feelingly.

Later, parked more sensibly at the end of the rows, Ivor and Suzanne walked back to the Mertens’ hut. I’ve such a lot to tell you, he was saying, what are you doing today?

Oh, Aunt Josephine and Cousin Louise turned up yesterday; I didn’t know they were coming. I think they want to go to the farm and see Grandfather and Daniel. Since you’re here with the car, could you drive us?

Of course, I can take six. Who is going?

Well, Josephine, Louise, the baby, and I suppose, me, Mother, Etienne and Amelie. We’ll just fit! But Josephine and Louise brought three bicycles, so maybe one of us should ride so there is a bicycle at the farm.

Perhaps we can hint that Etienne should ride, so you can sit up front with me. I can shut the flap so we can talk. Ivor smiled winningly at Suzanne. She nodded. Here we are, I’ll make sure everyone is ready for you, just stay there a moment.

Was that Ivor? asked Marie. How lucky he should come today. Did you know?

No, not which day, replied Suzanne. Can we talk in French instead of Flemish when he is here, it’s easier for him.

Of course, said Marie. Josephine, Louise, Ivor is outside. He’s Suzanne’s, what… beau…, friend… what do you say Suzanne?

Ivor is my very good friend, and maybe business partner, she said grandly. And today, if you wish, he will drive us to the farm in his touring car.

Oh that’s wonderful, please ask him in, said Josephine. Are you ready Louise? Amelie?

Ivor came in and was greeted with smiles all around. Suzanne made formal introductions, and Josephine fluttered like a girl in the sight of his courtesy. So, are you English, sir? she asked.

Welsh, Madame. Mr. Hughes, formerly Captain in the Royal Welch Fusiliers. I served at Ypres with my regiment. Many of my men are buried nearby. It draws me here, I miss them so.

And were you wounded Mr. Hughes? asked Louise.

Very little, Madame. A bullet in the thigh, and this close shave here. He touched his cheek, where a pinkish scar ran from his nose to the point of his jaw. I was very lucky. One of my fellow officers lost half his face, but I’ve heard they are doing good work helping to hide the worst injuries.

Oh, such a dreadful war, said all four women, almost together.

My husband served with the French Army, said Josephine. He is whole in body, but not, I think, in mind. She looked surprised at herself, revealing this to a stranger, but she swallowed, and went on, and my sister here has paid a higher price, my brother and two of his sons.

Indeed Madame, I know. Madame Mertens has suffered great loss.

Oh please, call me Marie, she said. We are all friends here.

Amelie could wait no longer. Ivor, this is Sebastian, Louise’s son. Isn’t he splendid?

Yes, indeed, a handsome young man. Ivor bowed, and Sebastian, eyeing him, bowed back gravely. Everyone laughed.

Amelie, can you please take a message to the Mayor’s office for me? said Marie. I’m asking for a few days off for Etienne and myself, for family reasons. And then call on Lizette and tell her you need a few days off from your work at the school. Tell Etienne Ivor is here, and he should hurry up and come round. Amelie nodded, took the note, and ran off. Suzanne, can you please run down to the Post Office and collect mail for everyone at the farm, and for us?

May I come with you, Suzanne? asked Ivor. I shan’t be able to run, though.

Walking to the Post Office together felt like snatching a moment of privacy for Suzanne. They were both accustomed to the sight of Ypres’ ruined buildings, now separated into regular plots, with the majority of loose material piled away from the stable remains of walls and chimneys, so that they barely noticed their surroundings. Ivor was anxious to talk.

I must tell you, I had a difficult time at home over the winter. Mother is not at all keen on the battlefield tourism idea. She thinks I am wasting time and that I should be taking my responsibilities as the man of the house. She says it’s my job to provide for her and my sister, and to look after the estate.

Suzanne stopped dead. Does that mean you don’t want to do it? Did you get any replies from your advertisement in 'The Lady'?

Ivor took her hand and pulled her along. No, it doesn’t mean that. I am to have one season to prove myself. Mother was so hostile, I didn’t mention you, but she’s suspicious that there is a girl involved.

And were there any replies?

Yes, I have five ladies lined up. Two next month, in April; and three in May. I think one of them is a spy for Mother but I don’t know which!

Oh Ivor, that is marvellous! Have you a plan? Do you know where the ladies want to go?

I thought that you could do that part. I was going to write a list of war sites I could show, and talk about, and you can write to the ladies and ask which they want to see. Then we can organise hotels and trains and itineraries.

"I don’t know