The Girl from Station X by Elisa Segrave Page A

two months. I am so disappointed that I don’t even read this diary right through. Where are the other five diaries about our lives in Madrid? Where are the diaries of
‘the old days’, when I was a little girl?
    Although I am burning with curiosity about my mother’s life as a young woman, I’m also apprehensive. Maybe this is why I don’t delve at once into all her war diaries –
those most representative of her adult life – and why I don’t tackle them chronologically. Instead, I glance through different ones at random, fastening on certain sections. I’m
almost reluctant to read them right through, for fear of what I’ll find.
    A few years ago, Molly told me that she had thrown away letters to my mother from a woman she had almost certainly had a love affair with after my father died. Molly said she was so shocked by
the contents that she didn’t want me or my brother to see them. What other secrets has my mother hidden?

Chapter 7
    I knew that Anne Veronica Hamilton-Grace was born on 1 July 1914, to Raymond Hamilton-Grace and Gladys Grace, distant cousins. Gladys, my
grandmother, had longed for a son. She had told me without shame that when the nurse handed her her firstborn, she had looked at her baby girl and declared: ‘Oh, I don’t want
that
!’
    I discover, with the diaries, a letter that Anne’s father, an officer in the 13th Hussars, sent her from Flanders, for her first birthday.
    June 29th 1915.
    My dear daughter,
    Very many happy returns of your birthday. May you grow up into just such a woman as your mother is, in this you will have a hard task for she is a perfect woman in every
sense of the word. She is more beautiful than a wild rose, and more educable in character than any woman I have ever met or believe to exist. Still, you are lucky to have such a pattern.
    You should be a strong healthy child too – children of a love match always are – I think there never was a match more concerted by love than in that of your parents. You will be
lucky to have grown up in an atmosphere of love because the love of your parents will always last and you will be spared the sight of father and mother nagging at each other.
    If you are wise you will see and learn how to create such a life for yourself in the future because it is the best that this world can give. First and foremost you must not be selfish and
you must never say something that will hurt – for those things though forgotten always leave their mark. You must try to see the other’s point of view and remember that the upbringing
of your husband was probably quite different from yours and you must make allowances.
    It is the little things in life which count
–
things that happen every day. Your mother much prefers that I should remember to write to her on every day and show that I have
not forgotten her when I’ve been away for a day, than, say, once a year, I should give her a diamond necklace then forget her the other days. And when you are married do not forget that your
husband will want to be petted sometimes and will want to see that you love him. He will not care to be the appendage of a beautiful successful hostess who is always too busy to talk and play with
him. There is only one way to be happily married that is for you both to have the same aims in life, to be absolutely frank with each other, to respect each other and not to be ashamed of showing
how you love each other. If you are not prepared for this then don’t get married.
    I have said ‘the sermons’ don’t forget to have an aim in life people without them are always unhappy
–
besides which you have no business to help consume the
world’s produce and give nothing in return. As to religion for heavens sake don’t parade it but if you work up to the idea of trying to make everyone a little happier because of your
presence in this world you won’t be far wrong.
    Lastly as to your conduct and learning. If you follow the example of your mother you