No Known Grave (22 page)

Tyler sighed to himself. He wished it were that simple.

39.

D
AISY
S
TEVENS COULD SEE SUFFICIENTLY WELL TO
report to the others of the Rub-a-Dub Club what was happening outside the window.

“They’re taking out the stretcher.”

“I hope the damn things aren’t rationed,” said Melrose. “At the rate we’re using them, they’ll run out.”

Prescott burst out with a snort of laughter.

“I do wish you wouldn’t make jokes like that, Melly,” Daisy scolded. “It’s not funny. I’m scared to death. I think we should be moved as soon as possible.”

“That won’t do us any good if the killer is one of the residents,” said Melrose. “Don’t forget the story of the Trojan horse.”

Prescott’s mood turned immediately. “What’s that? A posh pub in Soho? Overrun with cockroaches, was it?”

“Come on, Eddie,” said Daisy. “I know what he’s talking about. We studied it in school. The Greeks built a wooden horse and sent it as a gift to their enemies, the Trojans, who took it inside the walls of Troy. During the night, the Greeks who were hidden inside the horse jumped out and let in the rest of the army. They won the war.”

Melrose clapped his hands. “Well done, Miss Stevens. And the lesson is? Never trust a Greek? I knew some Greeks who lived on my street. Two brothers, both queer as frogs and would steal your trousers out of the privy if you were taking a shite.”

“Hey! Watch it.” Jeremy was jolted out of his distraction. “Don’t use language like that around Daisy. I’ve told you before.”

“And what word did you object to, pray tell?” said Melrose.
“Trousers? Privy? Oh, I know, I should have said something more refined, like ‘if you were in the middle of defecating.’ ”

Daisy actually laughed. “For some reason that sounds worse.”

Jeremy reached up his hand so she could hold it. “I get your point, Melly, but I don’t think it fits. Nobody’s a traitor here and there’s no war among us.”

Nobody said anything.

“Well there isn’t, is there?” continued Jeremy. “Eddie? I know you are always fighting the battle of the subjugated peasants but you wouldn’t shoot Jock for some imagined slight, I hope. He was hardly upper class anyway.”

“Of course it wasn’t one of us,” exclaimed Daisy. “Somebody got into the grounds. That’s what frightens me. I want to go somewhere else, where we can be safe.”

Clark had taken the chair next to Melrose, who reached out to him.

“Anything you want to say, Vic? You can write it down if you like and I’ll utter the words for you.”

Clark shook his head and mimed wiping at his eyes.

“Sad? I’ll agree with you on that score,” said Melrose.

There was the sound of a thud from the hall.

“What was that?” asked Bancroft.

Daisy went and looked out. She returned to stand beside Bancroft. “It was the ambulance men negotiating the stairs. They’ve just taken out Sister’s body.”

Melrose sat down in an armchair abruptly. “I liked her. She never seemed prissy like some religious can get. I don’t understand why she would commit suicide … if she did, that is.”

Daisy eyed him. “Melly, don’t say that.”

Melrose slapped his hands on the arms of his chair. “I’m going in search of some alcohol to drown my sorrows. Anybody else want to come? Sister Rebecca might take pity on us and take out some medicinal brandy.”

“I’ll come with you,” said Eddie. “I’d rather have a Guinness, but brandy’ll do if that’s all they’ve got.”

“Daisy? Jeremy? Coming?”

“Too early for me,” said Bancroft. “I was hoping you could wheel me to the river, Daisy.”

“Of course I will. Let me get my hat.” She stopped in front of Melrose. “Don’t get too drunk, Melly. It’s not worth it.”

“Fat chance of that with the amount Sister’s going to dole out. We’ll see you when you get back. You’re coming for a drink, aren’t you, Vic?”

Clark made one of his gurgling noises. Prescott got to his feet. “So that’s where you are. Lead on, will you, chum.”

Clark turned so that Prescott could put his hand on his shoulder and they lurched off, Melrose behind them.

“Have a good cool off, you two,” he called to Bancroft and Daisy.

There was a little silence, then Bancroft said, “Daisy, have they gone?”

“Yes.”

“There’s nobody within earshot?”

“No, there isn’t.”

“Come close so I can whisper in your ear.”

She giggled, leaned forward, and blew lightly on his cheek so he would know. “What do you want to say?”

“Daisy, will you let me make love to you?”

Involuntarily, she jumped away.

“Jeremy! We can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“For one thing, you’re engaged.”

“Lydia doesn’t want me. I’m doing her a favour. I’m disengaging myself.”

“I—”

“We were never intimate. She wanted to wait until we were married.”

“So what makes you think I don’t feel the same way?” asked Daisy.

“Daisy, dear, don’t be insulted. I don’t mean that you’re easy. It’s just that … Well, with what’s happened here, I thought, my God, I don’t want to die without knowing what it’s like to be with a woman.”

“Jeremy! Why are you talking like this? You’re not going to die.”

“All I’m saying, Daisy, my love, is that we never know, do we? A bomb? A crash? A maniac stalking the halls?” He managed to grasp hold of her hand. “I’m sorry, Daisy. You’re cold. I don’t want to scare you any more than you’re already scared. Forget what I just said.”

“All of it?”

“Yes. Just go and get your hat and we’ll simply go into town. I apologize for being out of line.”

Daisy didn’t move for a moment, then bent over again and put her cheek next to his. “You don’t have to apologize. I’m glad that you even, er, desire me. I’m not much to look at anymore.”

“What?” He chuckled. “Can’t say that bothers me. It’s you who should be put off. I can tell I’m pretty ugly.”

Soft as new love itself, her kiss touched his lips. “Good thing everything is blurry then, isn’t it? You look handsome to me.”

He caught her chin and held it so he could kiss her again. His hand moved up to caress her neck and moved down to her breast. When he let her go, they were both breathing hard.

“Didn’t you have a question?” she asked softly.

“So I did,” he whispered. “Can I make love to you?”

“I’d rather like that, Mr. Bancroft. But where in heck are we going to do it?”

Daisy seized the wheelchair handles and pushed Jeremy out of the house. She turned rather sharply at the bottom of the ramp, bumping him onto the driveway.

“I’m glad you’re eager, Daisy, my darling, but I don’t mind if you go a little slower.”

“Sorry.”

She made herself slow down.

“Have a good walk,” said the constable who swung the gate open for them. Daisy glanced over her shoulder. Inspector Tyler was standing at the front window of the common room, watching them. He waved in a friendly fashion. When she’d asked his permission to go into town, he hadn’t demurred. He said he understood their need to escape the confines of the hospital. Daisy thought he couldn’t possibly know what they were planning, but she had a rather uncomfortable feeling he suspected.

Suddenly, Daisy felt a sharp spasm of alarm. In spite of everything, the hospital was a place of security and she shrank from leaving it, however briefly.

Jeremy reached his hand up. “What’s going on, Daisy mine? You can change your mind if you want to.”

She grasped his clawlike fingers. “I don’t want to. It’s just that you’re a lump to push and I’m not even going to try getting up the hill. We’ll have to settle for the Wheatsheaf.”

“That’s okay with me. I haven’t been in it, but if it was good enough for Catherine of Aragon, it’s good enough for me.”

Daisy spluttered with laughter. “Catherine of Aragon? Where did you hear that?”

“She did reside at the castle. She must have gone somewhere for a quiet pint while she was waiting for her fate to be decided. I’m guessing it was the Wheatsheaf.”

Daisy shivered. She couldn’t help herself. Perhaps it was the words he used,
waiting for her fate to be decided
. She knew that Henry VIII’s first wife had spent time in the castle when she’d been married to Henry’s older brother, Prince Arthur. Legend had it that she had walked around the grounds of the keep. But Daisy hated the idea of always waiting for somebody else to
make decisions for you. Before the accident, she had been fiercely independent, choosing to leave home when she was just eighteen, much against her mother’s objections.

“Daisy?”

“Yes?”

“I can hear the weir.”

“That’s right. We’re just going past it.”

“Will you stop a minute?”

She pushed the wheelchair to the side of the road and into the shade of the trees.

“Daisy, do you realize I will be dependent for the remainder of my life? I won’t be able to make the decision that I’d like to go for a swim, or a walk up to the castle on my own.”

“Don’t be silly, course you will be able to. What do you think the rope’s for? You just follow it and it will take you to the river.”

“That’s just here in Ludlow. At some point, I’ll be shipped back to Canada. I live in a big city. There won’t be any handy ropes guiding me to the lake.”

She wanted to brush off what he was really saying, but she couldn’t. She’d been having identical thoughts.

“I understand. I don’t like to need people either, but there’s not much we can do about it, is there? No more fine sewing for me or for you.”,

“What? What on earth are you talking about? Fine sewing?”

“You know what I mean. Don’t pretend you don’t.”

He chuckled and his frozen grimace widened. “I liked to make model boats when I was a kid. My mother still keeps them stored in my room. I guess I won’t be adding to the collection.”

“Nope.”

He turned his head in her direction. The bright light accentuated the raw scars of his ravaged face.

“Sometimes the thought of what lies ahead is almost unbearable, Daisy. If I could figure out a way to do it, I’d throw myself off the bridge.”

“That wouldn’t work. You’d probably just hit the riverbank. Then you’d likely be crippled and that would be worse. Blind and crippled.”

“May I remind you, I
am
blind and crippled.”

“No, you’re not! You’ve been making progress. Your legs are getting stronger every day. You’ll be walking by the end of the summer, I guarantee.”

“But I will still be blind. And hideous.”

“Good thing you won’t be able to see yourself then, isn’t it?”

There was a spasm across Bancroft’s mouth that was the closest he could get to a smile.

“Daisy, will you marry me?”

She tapped him playfully on the top of his head. “I thought I’d already said yes to that. If you think I’m going to sully my virtue and not get something out of it, you’ve got another think coming. You’re going to have to make an honest woman of me.”

“Done.”

She bent over and kissed him.

40.

D
AISY HALTED OUTSIDE THE
W
HEATSHEAF
.

In fact, she was losing some of her courage. Somehow the brightness of the day made the idea of a tryst seem even more wicked. No cover of darkness; everybody would know what they were taking a room for. They hadn’t thought this through. Neither of them could stay away from the hospital for long. They were being ridiculous.

Jeremy bent his clawed fingers in a sort of beckoning motion. Daisy leaned over him.

“Daisy, your breast was as soft as a pillow.”

She burst out laughing. “Not a very romantic description. Makes me sound fat. You’ve got to do better than that, Mr. Bancroft.”

“Words fail me, but I hope the same won’t be true of my actions.”

She tapped him on the head. “Were you having me on when you said you’d never had relations with a girl before?”

“No. I swear. I’m as untried as a schoolboy.”

“Ha. These days that isn’t saying much.”

“Would you prefer me to be experienced, Daisy? Come on, tell the truth.”

She hesitated. “I suppose so. I don’t have a clue myself.”

“We’ll learn together.”

“I did read a book once when I was fourteen. My two friends and I sent for it from
Women’s Weekly
. It was intended for “the new bride.”

“And?”

“Useless. Said that marriage would have its ups and downs and it was important to maintain a sense of humour and always be cheerful when your husband came home.”

“Nothing about the other kind of ups and downs?”

“Don’t be cheeky,” Daisy said, laughing.

Bancroft shifted in the wheelchair. “All right. Properly speaking, I should be the one to get the room, but it should probably be you, Daisy. They might think I have something catching, like the bubonic plague.”

“Stop it. You don’t look that bad, honest. If anything, you look like you’ve got some rare strain of measles.”

“Thanks. That’s most reassuring.”

“Why don’t you stay outside? I’ll feel better lying through my teeth if you’re not listening.”

Suddenly he caught hold of her arm. “Daisy, you won’t run away, will you? You won’t leave me here, bellowing like an unweaned calf for its mother? I won’t know where you are.”

This time, it was she who planted a kiss on his lips. “I’ll be right back, I promise.”

She pushed the wheelchair into a patch of sunlight, facing him down towards the river. Both sides of the wide, cobbled street were lined with narrow-fronted houses. House-proud women kept the windows sparkling clean, and the curtains were lace. Probably none of the doors or trim had been painted since before the war, but you wouldn’t know it today. The sun bathed everything in a warm, golden light. Even in these austere times, the window boxes were filled with brightly coloured flowers. Except for a black wreath on one of the doors, the ravages of war seemed far away.

With a sharp intake of breath, Daisy opened the door of the hotel and went inside. The lobby was dim after the brightness of the sunlight, warm and fusty-smelling; beer and tobacco odours lingered in the air. The woodwork was dark, weathered by time
and smoke. The bar was off to the right, empty now, closed until the evening opening time. The tiny reception area was tucked beside a flight of stairs. A sign proclaimed,
PRIVATE. GUESTS ONLY
. There was a big red ledger on the counter and a neat plaque that read,
M. ALLTHORPE, PROP
. Daisy dinged the bell on the counter and waited. Nobody appeared. She dinged it again. Still nobody. She was tempted to rush outside and tell Jeremy there was no room available when the door beside the counter opened and a woman emerged. She was wearing a pair of blue overalls and was in the act of removing heavy leather gloves.