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Authors: Rosie Goodwin

Tags: #Fiction, #Sagas

BOOK: The Soldier's Daughter
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Chapter Eighteen

Mrs Dower had just fetched the dirty dishes from the Frasiers’ dining room that evening when the telephone rang in the hall.

Alfie wriggled in his seat, his eyes wide. The nearest he had ever got to a telephone before was the one in the big red box at the end of their street back home, and he’d decided that his grandparents must be very rich indeed if they could afford to have one in their house.

‘That’ll probably be someone who’s lost a loved one,’ Mrs Dower said quietly. ‘It’s a good job Master Seb is home, isn’t it?’

‘Why would they ring here?’ Briony asked.

‘Because the shop is shut. During the day Mr Page would deal with it but after closing time the calls come here. No doubt he’ll get the hearse out shortly and go and pick up Morris Page to help him collect the body and take it down to the funeral parlour.’

‘How sad.’

‘It is that,’ Mrs Dower agreed. ‘And not the nicest of jobs – but then someone’s got to do it, haven’t they?’ The words had barely left her lips when Sebastian walked through the kitchen, heading for the back door.

‘Tell Mother there’s been a death up in the village, would you, Mrs Dower?’ he said. ‘It’s old Ned Clark. His wife just telephoned.’

Mrs Dower looked sad. She had known the Clarks all her life, though Ned’s death wasn’t entirely unexpected. He had been ill for a long time. ‘Shall I tell her how long you’re likely to be?’ she asked.

‘Oh, not long,’ he answered. ‘We’ll chuck him in the morgue and see to him in the morning after I’ve got a coffin out of the barn. I haven’t had time to get any down to the parlour yet and I’m not going to attempt it in the dark.’

She tutted as he strode towards the barn where the hearse was kept.

‘That young man hasn’t got an ounce of compassion in him,’ she muttered. ‘You’d not have heard his father speak so disrespectfully of the dead when he did the job.’

Glancing at the children, Briony saw that they were looking nervous. All this talk of death was unsettling for them so she told them, ‘Go on up to the bathroom, you two, and have a good wash for me, will you? Remember to brush your teeth. I’ll be up in a minute then to tuck you in and if you’re very good I’ll read you a story.’

They scuttled away and once they were gone Briony set to and helped Mrs Dower to put the kitchen to rights. The woman was keen to get back to the farm as Talwyn wasn’t so well.

‘Her tonsils are right up,’ she told Briony as they washed and dried. ‘She’s prone to tonsillitis and I wish now I’d let the doctors take them out for her when she was a kid. Trouble is, she’s terrified of hospitals, bless her.’

‘Then you get off and I’ll finish up here,’ Briony said immediately.

‘Right you are then, if you’re sure. I’ll have Howel bring over all you’ll need for tomorrow first thing in the morning. But I’ll still be back to cook the main evening meal just till you’re feeling in the swing of things.’

‘Thank you,’ Briony answered gratefully and as Mrs Dower collected her coat and left the kitchen she finished the tidying and made her way upstairs.

Once again the children were asleep within seconds of their heads touching the pillow, and feeling slightly at a loose end, Briony went back down to the kitchen. The evening stretched endlessly in front of her so she decided to go for a walk. Pulling her coat on, she slipped out into the yard. It was dark now and once again the sky was alight with millions of stars. She headed for the gates and stood there admiring the view of Penzance far below her. The whole place was in darkness because of the blackout but the moon and stars were so bright that it was possible to see almost every building. Moving along, she took the path along the cliff, being careful not to get too close to the edge. Far out to sea she could just make out the shapes of some fishing boats, but there wasn’t a soul in sight and she felt as if she were the only person left in the whole world. The night was turning chilly now so eventually she headed back to the kitchen and was just about to turn into the yard when voices stopped her.

‘Come back tomorrow. I haven’t had time to get it yet.’

Recognising Sebastian’s voice, she peeped around the edge of the barn, keeping to the shadows. The large van that he had arrived in earlier on in the day was there again, as was the unsavoury-looking character who had been driving it.

‘Whadda yer mean, yer ain’t had time to get it?’ The man sounded angry and Briony’s heart began to pound. She didn’t know what to do for the best. If she was to move forward now they would see her and it might look as if she had been eavesdropping on them. She decided to stay where she was and flattened herself against the wall of the barn.

‘I’ve just told you – I got called out on a job. I had to collect a body and take it to the funeral parlour so I haven’t had time to get the old dear on her own yet. But she’ll cough up, she always does. Your money is as good as in the bank.’

Briony surmised that the old dear Sebastian was talking about must be her grandmother.

‘It’d better be,’ the other man snarled. ‘If I ain’t got that dosh to the guvnor by tomorrow night I wouldn’t wanna be in your shoes.’

‘You’ll have it,’ Sebastian replied shortly as the large man turned about and climbed into the cab of the van.

‘I’ll be back here at six o’clock sharp tomorrow night,’ he threw from the window and then he started the engine and Briony heard the van drive away. She held her breath until the sound of the engine had faded into the distance, and then cautiously peeped around the corner again. Much to her relief the yard was empty so she quickly picked her way across the cobbles and slipped back into the kitchen.

Now her mind began to work overtime. Sebastian apparently owed someone money and the man had come to collect it. Suddenly recalling what Mrs Dower had said about her suspicions of Sebastian gambling she wondered if he had perhaps run up another debt. It certainly sounded like it and it had also sounded as if he expected his mother to pay it for him. She poured some milk into a pan and placed it on the stove to heat up. She was feeling tired now and decided that she would have a hot drink before going to bed. Perhaps her grandparents might like one too? Before she could change her mind about asking them she went into the hallway and approached the sitting-room door. Mrs Dower had informed her that the drawing room had been turned into a downstairs bedroom for her grandfather, now that he was no longer able to tackle the stairs, and he would probably have retired for the night, but her grandmother might appreciate a drink. Briony still hadn’t given up hope of winning her round.

She lifted her hand to knock but then stopped as raised voices came from the other side of the door.

‘Oh Sebastian, not
again!
’ she heard her grandmother wail. ‘Haven’t I explained clearly enough that money is tight at present? And you
still
haven’t shown me the funeral parlour accounts. You know that I like to keep up to date with them.’

‘The accounts
are
up to date and I’m only asking for fifty pounds, Mother. If you’d let me have access to the safe I wouldn’t have to keep coming to you for every penny I need like a child asking for pocket money.’


Only
fifty pounds,’ the woman groaned. ‘If your father knew, he would be furious, you know he would, and you also know that the only people who have access to the safe are him and me.’ But then, ‘What’s the matter? Oh, darling, is your hand paining you again? Sit down here. I’m sorry I was so sharp with you. I sometimes forget what you’ve been through and
of course
I’ll give you the money. You do run the shop, after all, but you must promise me that this will be the very last time. I shall get the money out of the safe for you and you shall have it first thing in the morning. But whatever you do, don’t tell your father.’

Briony turned and tiptoed away with a sombre expression on her face. It seemed as though Sebastian could play his mother like a fiddle. But then it was none of her business and she was only too happy to keep well out of it.

They woke to another clear, bright day with the sun riding high in a cloudless blue sky. Briony got the children washed and dressed and grinned to herself as they skipped away and she heard them giggling in Sarah’s room. They were still not over the novelty of having a proper bathroom and an inside toilet. It seemed a world away from the outside lav with its little squares of cut-up newspaper and the tin bath they were used to. The bath in this bathroom was cast iron and sat on funny little legs that reminded the children of lion’s feet, and the sink was so large they could almost have swum in it, but they loved it just the same.

As she got herself ready, Briony glanced at the pile of dirty washing that was building up in the corner of her room. She decided that she would take it all out to the laundry room and wash it after breakfast rather than bother Mrs Dower with it. The other woman had enough to do already without having to add their laundry to her duties. Once she was dressed in a pale-blue cotton dress with a full skirt she brushed her hair until it shone, leaving it to swing loosely down her back, then went to collect the children and shooed them down the stairs.

Although she had assured Mrs Dower that she could manage breakfast and lunch on her own, Briony was nervous at the thought of having to serve Sebastian and her grandparents. Still it was too late to go back on her word now, so she gave the children a basket each and told them to go and let the chickens out of their coops and collect some eggs for breakfast. They were only too happy to oblige as Briony made the fire up with logs that were piled at the side of it. This was another job that Howel usually did, but she was sure that the children would be happy to take it over if she showed them where the logs were stored.

She had just put the kettle on when Howel appeared in the doorway loaded down with two enormous wicker baskets. He was so large that his frame blocked out the light but when she looked towards him he smiled pleasantly.

‘Morning. Did you sleep well?’

‘Very well, thank you.’ She returned his smile. ‘I think it must be all this fresh air. We’re not used to it.’

Crossing to the table he carefully began to unpack the baskets. In one of them were two fresh loaves, a large jug of milk, still warm from the cow, a dish full of butter and a thick sponge cake oozing jam and cream. In the other there was bacon, sausages and a number of other things that Mrs Dower had thought might come in useful. She had already shown Briony where a selection of food was stored in the pantry but Howel assured her, ‘I shall be bringing the fresh supplies over every morning but should you need anything just get one of the little ones to pop over to the farm. There’s usually one of us about. And you know where all the vegetables are in the kitchen garden, don’t you?’

Briony nodded. ‘Yes, I do, thanks. In fact, I might go and dig a few up this morning if you don’t mind, then I can make a vegetable soup for lunch. I could use some of the cooking apples from the orchard to bake an apple pie for afters. Your mum said she would still cook the main meal in the evenings for the time being.’

‘I could go and fetch the apples for you now,’ he volunteered, but she shook her head.

‘No really, the children will enjoy helping me and from what I’ve seen of it, you and your family already do more than enough around this place. I bet you’ve been working already this morning, haven’t you?’

‘I have, as it happens. I’ve milked the cows and put them back out to pasture and now I’m going off to clean the pigsties out.’ He chuckled. ‘Not the nicest of jobs, but I think the pigs appreciate it.’

Briony wrinkled her nose. She was more than happy to help and take some of the jobs over but she wasn’t ready to volunteer for that particular one just yet.

It was then that a thought occurred to him and he suggested, ‘You could bring the children along to the farm this afternoon if you’ve nothing else planned. I dare say they’d love to see all the animals.’

‘Oh, they would,’ Briony agreed, thinking how kind he was. ‘The nearest they’ve ever been to a sheep or a cow is seeing them from the train window on the way here. They’d love it.’

‘That’s sorted then. See you later.’ And with a cheery wave of his hand he was off, leaving Briony to start the breakfast.

The children scampered back in a few minutes later, beaming from ear to ear.

‘I found six eggs an’ Alfie found five,’ Sarah informed her proudly, holding out her basket for the eggs to be admired. The hens were clucking in the yard now as Briony smiled her approval.

‘Well done, both of you.’

She made a large pan of porridge although she had to admit it wasn’t quite as nice as Mrs Dower’s, then after serving the children she took some through to the dining room where the rest of the family were assembled.

Her grandmother didn’t seem overly thrilled with the arrangement although she had grudgingly agreed to it with Mrs Dower. But only for a trial period, of course.

‘Where are the children?’ she asked with a sour expression on her face. Today she was dressed in yet another smart two-piece costume, but her hair was still slightly straggly and Briony thought she had a vaguely wild look about her.

‘They’re having their breakfast in the kitchen.’

Her grandfather smiled at her warmly. ‘Perhaps they could start to eat in here with us, Marion?’ he said to his wife.

She looked affronted at the very idea. ‘I don’t think that is such a good idea, darling. They’re probably much happier in the kitchen with
her
.’

The
her
was pronounced so spitefully that William Frasier frowned as he placed a snow-white napkin across his lap. He wasn’t at all happy about the children being shoved up in the old servants’ quarters as it was. After all, these were their grandchildren, and from what he had seen of them they were very polite and well behaved.

‘I suppose Alfred could join us,’ she surprised them all by saying then. ‘I’m thinking of sending him to boarding school when he is a little older and it would be nice if we were able to teach him some proper manners before he went.’

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