Daughter of Dark River Farm (19 page)

‘You never were!’ Evie said, coming across the threshold on Will’s arm. ‘You pretended to be, but you were nothing but a sweetheart.’

‘Hush, Evangeline, I’m trying to live up to expectation,’ Lawrence grinned. The cool air seemed to have helped dissipate some of the whisky-induced high humour, and now his smile seemed more natural. ‘Right, Private Davies, set the pace. I don’t want to push you.’

Evie and Will moved ahead, and Lawrence offered me his own arm, which made me smile. I took it, and together we walked down the long, straight avenue to the stone gateway at the bottom, and then turned left towards Breckenhall.

After a few minutes Lawrence pointed to the side of the road. ‘There.’

Will turned and saw where he was indicating, and started to laugh. ‘You remembered the exact place!’

‘Of course, my friend, of course,’ Lawrence said. ‘I saw the van on its side, and thought Mr Markham must be driving it. But of course it wasn’t him. And, innocent child that I was, I couldn’t think
what
my sister was doing there, until they spun me some yarn about him—’ he pointed to Will ‘—swerving to avoid hitting her.’

‘It wasn’t some yarn,’ Will protested. ‘I did swerve. It’s just that it was my own fault in the first place for getting distracted.’

He looked down at Evie, whose hand slid from the crook of his elbow down to his wrist, and from there they linked hands, still looking at each other. Will smiled and Evie, clearly moved by instinct beyond thought, stretched up on tiptoe and kissed him. It was a brief touch of the lips, but Lawrence turned away and muttered from the corner of his mouth, ‘I do wish they wouldn’t.’

‘No-one’s here to see,’ I assured him. ‘I like that they’re so clearly in love. They’ve earned it, don’t you think?’

‘More than anyone I know,’ he agreed. Then he winked. ‘I don’t know Archie though, do I? So you don’t count.’

Evie and Will broke their moment, and continued walking, and Lawrence began larking about, playing the landed gentry to the hilt, and pretending I was his lady. In this way we arrived in Breckenhall in high spirits, and I could see those people of the town who recognised Lawrence glancing at one another and then nodding knowingly in our direction. That made me laugh even harder, and I was still giggling when we arrived outside the butcher’s shop where Will had been apprenticed before the war.

‘I’m going to nip in and say how d’you do to Martin,’ Will said.

Evie gave him a shrewd look. ‘And ask him if he’s the one who told Nathan where you were?’

‘That too,’ he admitted. ‘Are you coming in?’

‘Let’s all go in,’ Lawrence said. ‘Make his shop look terribly popular, so all the locals will flock to see what the fuss is about. May as well make ourselves useful for once.’

Will pushed open the shop door, but the rest of us hung back while he greeted Martin and they exchanged a warm handshake. After a few minutes, during which time Martin admitted, shamefaced, that he had become friendly with Nathan and had indeed told him where Will was convalescing, he nodded at the door at the back of the shop.

‘Reckon there’s someone upstairs who’d like to see you, too,’ he said quietly. ‘Should I call him down?’

Will followed the gesture, and his eyes widened. ‘I thought he’d gone to London.’

‘He did. He came back two nights ago. Shall I fetch him?’

Evie gave Will a searching look, then shrugged. ‘It’s your decision.’

‘He was a decent man,’ Will said gently. ‘He just…lost himself a bit.’

‘I’m not going to see him,’ Evie said. ‘Come and find me in the market when you’re ready.’ But her words were softened by the look she gave him, and by the way her hand brushed his as she passed on her way to the door.

I glanced back towards the shop as we walked towards the market square. ‘Who’s Will going to see?’

‘Frank Markham,’ Evie said. ‘He was the one Will was apprenticed to. He gave him the job after Nathan left him in that mess.’ She moved away to look at something more closely, and I blinked in recognition.

‘Wait…’ I turned to Lawrence. ‘Markham? Isn’t that the one you said stole the…’ I floundered ‘…the Tingtang Star?’

‘Kalteng!’ Lawrence smiled, and nodded. ‘Yes, that’s him. That’s why Evie is none too keen to pass the time of day, I should think.’

‘But Will still likes him.’

‘Will has a generous soul. Markham saved him from ruin. I assume he feels he owes him five minutes of his time, at least. They’ve both been invalided out of service, Markham for good since he’s lost half his arm.’

I winced. ‘And he’s a butcher. How does he keep working?’

Evie came back, overhearing the last part of the exchange. ‘Martin’s a good apprentice. Now stop talking and come and look at these fabrics. This is the stall where I found the material Mary used for my wedding gown.’

We had made our way around half of the market, and I was once more on Lawrence’s arm, when we heard Will shout Evie’s name. We all turned, and saw Will hurrying towards us, and Evie went to meet him, her face creased in concern.

‘Will! Be careful, you’re—’

‘It’s Frank. Bloody hell, Evie, you have to come and talk to him!’

Chapter Eleven

Lawrence and I watched them disappear into the shop, then looked at one another in amazement.

‘Well what in blazes was that all about?’ Lawrence wondered.

I shook my head. ‘Will looked as though he hadn’t a clue what to say, or do.’

‘Not like him. Decisive bloke, normally. One of the least flappable chaps I know.’

We started to walk again, slowly, and I kept glancing back until the shop doorway was out of sight, but there was no sign of either Will or Evie. Lawrence was becoming quieter and quieter. The earlier fun had gone out of the day, and I knew he was thinking about what tomorrow would bring.

I’d heard him talking to Will about his unit, the Machine Gun Corps, and where they’d likely be going next. There was talk of the Heavy Branch, the tanks, being split from the rest of the regiment and given its own designation of Tank Corps, and I’d longed to ask more questions about what it was like to drive one of those great beasts, or even to ride in one, but Lawrence’s voice had held no enthusiasm, and even Will’s interested conversation had drifted away when he’d sensed that too.

Asking those questions now would have been even harder, so we walked around the market more or less in silence. When we’d circled the remaining stalls, and watched many of the stallholders packing their wares away, the increasing emptiness of the market seemed to echo the shadow that had crept across Lawrence’s mood. We sat down at the edge of the square, in sight of Markham’s shop, to await the return of the others. Lawrence sighed. It was a long, shaky sigh, and a high note escaped his throat unbidden, reminding me he was still only a boy.

‘You’ll be safe,’ I told him quietly, not looking at him. I knew he’d be embarrassed at having made the sound that was almost, but not quite, weeping.

‘How can you say that, you of all people?’

‘Because you have to be. You have to turn Oaklands into a convalescent home, remember?’

He gave a little laugh, then sniffed and wiped his hand across his eyes. ‘Perhaps I’ll be the first customer.’

‘Perhaps,’ I allowed. It would be patronising and pointless to pretend that, at least, wasn’t possible. ‘Either way, you’ll be in the right place, with the right people. And just think of the preferential treatment you’d get!’

He smiled, and was about to answer when we both heard the tinkle of Markham’s shop doorbell. Evie came out first, saw us and waved, and turned to take Will’s arm and it was immediately obvious that she was not merely being affectionate; Will’s walk was hesitant and his free hand was wrapped across his waist. I gasped in sudden pain as Lawrence’s hand clamped down on my arm, and turned to tell him he was hurting me…but the words didn’t come.

Instead I followed his hard, anguished gaze to where Will had stopped to catch his breath, and everything suddenly became very clear. He felt my eyes on him and looked down at me, swallowing a denial, and just gave me a sad, hopeless little shrug. So that was the way of it…the one he loved, whose heart belonged to another.

‘Oh, Lawrence,’ I breathed, and he managed a watery smile.

‘Hush, Kitty. I’m trying to live up to expectation,’ he said, and I felt like weeping along with him.

Evie found us in the sitting room much later. I’d accepted a glass of whisky, to keep Lawrence company, but the taste of it just reminded me of the first time I’d tried it—just a few hours before I’d discovered Colonel Drewe had left me with more than bruises and nightmares. The glass sat on the little table beside the settee, untouched but for that first sip. Lawrence sat beside me, tense and worried, and his own glass rolled between his hands more often than it was raised to his lips, for which I was grateful. His fear of leaving for the Front in the morning had been momentarily eased aside by worry for Will, but Evie smiled, although her face was pale.

‘The doctor’s gone,’ she said, ‘and Will’s under orders to remain in bed. I think that slip in the loft was the last straw. I don’t think there’s any bleeding, his blood pressure hasn’t dropped enough for that, but he ought to stay as still as possible now, and give himself a chance to heal.’ She poured her own drink, and sat down opposite us, closing her eyes as she took her first sip. I felt Lawrence slump in his seat beside me, but I don’t think Evie had noticed any more than the general relief she would expect from a close friend and brother-in-law.

I remembered what had made Will exert himself to find us in the market. ‘What was wrong with Mr Markham, anyway?’

Evie opened her eyes again, and I saw her thoughts come back into focus. ‘It wasn’t him, so much as his daughter.’

‘His daughter?’

‘He got a girl in the family way a few years ago. The kitchen maid, Ruth Wilkins. Ruth was dismissed, of course, and went back to London. I think she was hoping to find her old family, but from what I’ve heard they didn’t want any extra mouths to feed. Frank went to find her when he was invalided out of the army last year, and last week he did.’

‘What’s the matter with the child?’ Lawrence asked.

‘Nothing. At the moment. But Frank has stolen her from her mother, and brought her back here. He has her hidden away in his rooms above the shop.’

I could feel my eyes growing round and wide. ‘Why?’

‘Well, because…’ She fixed me with a troubled look, and sighed. ‘Ruth is working the streets. There are men who…manage her. Amy’s only just four now, but it won’t be too many years before she’ll be in danger of being used in the same way as her mother.’ I went cold at the thought, and my hands clenched painfully tight.

‘I’m certain Ruth would have been happy to let Amy go with Frank,’ Evie went on, ‘but it’s not up to her. The kind of men who control her wouldn’t want to lose a potential moneymaker. The benefits, to them, would outweigh the cost.’

A nasty, greasy, queasy feeling squirmed in my stomach. ‘I just… I can’t even—’

‘Unthinkable,’ Evie agreed quietly. ‘Frank evidently agrees, so when he found out where she was staying he went in there, grabbed Amy, and ran. I gather there was a struggle with one of the men standing over Ruth, but Frank’s quite a big chap, and even one-handed it seems he didn’t have too much trouble. Besides, it wasn’t Ruth he was after.’

‘What will they do to
her
?’ I whispered, horrified for this girl I’d never known, but even more so at the thought of what might have happened to the poor child.

Evie shook her head. ‘I don’t know, love.’

‘But Amy’s safe?’

‘For now, as I said. But Ruth knows where Frank lives, and she might send them after him and Amy. From her point of view she’d be sensible to do it because, to be brutal about it, it might buy her life.’ She put down her glass. ‘I think you should get some sleep now, Skittles. It’s been a long afternoon. You too,’ she said to Lawrence, and her expression was filled with sadness. ‘You need to be away early tomorrow, after all.’

‘I’m not going to bed,’ Lawrence said quietly. ‘The sooner I go to bed, the sooner it’ll be time to leave.’ His voice hitched suddenly, and when he looked up his eyes were brimming with unshed tears. ‘Evie…I don’t think I can bear it again.’

A second later Evie was at his other side, taking him in her arms and drawing his head to her shoulder. I waited for a moment, unsure what to do, then laid a gentle hand on his shuddering back, and left brother and sister alone.

I came awake, gasping, swamped in a darkness so heavy I couldn’t even tell if my eyes were open. My heart was thudding against my ribs and I could feel sweat trickling down beneath my nightgown, pasting the thin material to my back and buttocks. My thighs were trembling, as if the muscles there had been tightly clenched, and I felt the ghosts of hard fingers pressing into the flesh, the echo of a once-trusted voice telling me to relax…the cool relief of tears at the corners my hot, swollen eyes.

I sat up in bed, these familiar sensations gradually easing away into the peace and silence of Evie’s childhood bedroom, and drew my knees up to rest my forehead on them. This dream was not new, so why had this time been so much worse? I made myself recall as much as I could, exploring what had been different about this one, biting the back of my hand against a sob when the dream became solid memory, as I’d known it would once I poked around in its depths. But I couldn’t fathom what it was that, this time, had brought me awake in the darkness, barely able to breathe.

I lay back down, closed my eyes and, as always, found the only path back to sleep—Archie Buchanan. I didn’t want my imagination to claim the honour of putting this nightmare to flight. I needed it to be as much a memory as the one that had led me here, so I put myself in the road outside the hotel in Dixmude, I put Archie in front of me, and I let my heart do the rest. My hat dropped to the ground to lie beside his, his hands gently tilted my face upwards, and his mouth came down on mine. This time the tears that coursed down my temples to soak my pillow carried my terror and despair with them, and left me feeling calm and able to sleep, with Archie’s hands cradling my head to his chest, and his breath ruffling the fine hair at my crown.