The Soldier's Daughter (32 page)

‘Do you think you could get me a glass of water please, dear?’ William asked, and she noticed that his hands were shaking.

‘Of course.’ She shot back to the kitchen and returned in no time with a glass that she held to his lips whilst he sipped at it.

‘That’s better. Thank you.’ He smiled up at her and she was relieved to see that the colour was seeping back into his cheeks.

‘Would you like me to sit with you for a while?’ she offered and he saw the concern in her eyes.

‘No, I shall be fine now. Your grandmother has only popped into the village but she should be back any minute.’

‘All right. But if you should need me, just ring the bell.’

He stroked her hand and said, ‘Thank you, I will.’

She got back into the kitchen just in time to hear Sebastian’s car roar out of the drive on two wheels, and hoped that he would stay away for a very long time. How could anyone be so thoroughly self-centred!

The next few days were difficult. Sarah did not improve and on Saturday, Briony took a deep breath, tapped on the sitting-room door and asked her grandmother if she would send for the doctor again.

‘Is that absolutely necessary?’ the woman challenged her.

‘I think it must be if Briony is requesting it,’ her grandfather said. ‘Go and telephone him, my dear. I’m sure Dr Restarick won’t mind.’

Her back ramrod straight, the woman glared at Briony before resentfully going to do as her husband requested.

The doctor was there within the hour, and as he held the stethoscope to Sarah’s chest his expression was worried.

‘I think we ought to get her into the cottage hospital,’ he said, and seeing the fear that flared in Briony’s eyes he added hastily, ‘I don’t think it’s polio, but she may be developing pneumonia. Better to be safe than sorry, eh? Now I shall telephone for an ambulance if you wouldn’t mind getting a bag ready for her.’

Briony shot off upstairs and packed Sarah’s little cardboard suitcase with everything that she thought her sister might need. And all the time she was trying to quell the panic that was rising within her and her heart was beating like a drum.

What am I going to say to Mum if anything happens to her?
she asked herself.
I’m supposed to be looking after her!

The ambulance was there in a surprisingly short time and as Sarah was loaded onto a stretcher, Briony began to cry.

Thankfully, Mrs Dower had just arrived and she patted her arm comfortingly, saying, ‘You go with her, my bird. I’ll take care of things here and look after the other two till you get back.’

Briony grabbed her coat and followed the ambulance men out after dropping a quick kiss on the housekeeper’s cheek. And then the ambulance bells were clanging as it raced towards the hospital and she sat close to Sarah, gripping her hot little hand. Her temperature was so high that it felt as if she was on fire – and Briony was more terrified than she had ever been in her entire life.

She arrived home three hours later after filling in all the admittance forms for Sarah and seeing her settled into a side ward by a young nurse in a navy-blue uniform with a crisp white cap covering her dark curls.

‘They wouldn’t let me stay any longer,’ she told Mrs Dower brokenly as the kindly woman patted her hand. ‘But I can go back at six o’clock. That’s the visiting time. In the meantime they’re going to do some tests.’

Alfie and Mabel were sitting close together, their eyes scared. The three little ones were inseparable now and it felt strange without Sarah.

‘She will get better, won’t she, Briony?’ Alfie asked tremulously.

‘Of course she will,’ Mrs Dower said brightly, doing her best to keep their spirits up. But inside she was quaking. Only the day before, another little boy – an evacuee who was staying with the Youngs in the village – had been diagnosed with polio and rushed from the cottage hospital to the sanatorium in Truro. What if Sarah had polio too? It just didn’t bear thinking about, although Briony had cared for her with a dedication that did the girl justice. All they could do now was wait . . . and that proved to be far more difficult than they had thought.

Briony was waiting on the steps of the cottage hospital at six o’clock promptly, along with a number of other people who had come to visit patients. She was clutching the latest copy of the
Beano
that she had bought at the local shop, but wasn’t sure whether Sarah would feel well enough to read it.

They heard a clock chime from inside and when the door was opened by a nurse everyone surged forward.

Briony tapped on the door of the children’s ward, which was kept locked at all times, and soon the same young nurse that she had met earlier opened it and smiled at her.

‘Ah, it’s Miss Valentine, isn’t it?’ she said. ‘Sister would like a word with you in her office. Please will you follow me?’

White-faced, Briony followed her down the ward past the rows of beds and cots and past the room where Sarah had been put.

The Sister greeted her and motioned her to a seat in front of her desk, and once Briony had perched on the edge of it, the woman steepled her fingers and stared thoughtfully off into space as if she didn’t quite know where to begin. Then, taking the bull by the horns, she began, ‘I’m so sorry, Miss Valentine, but I can’t allow you to see Sarah tonight.’ When Briony opened her mouth to object she rushed on, ‘Until all the tests are completed we really must keep her in isolation. You have other young children at home, I believe, and it wouldn’t be wise to put them at risk too if it is something contagious, would it?’

Put that way, Briony didn’t really have an argument and her shoulders sagged with despair.

‘When will you have all the results of the tests?’ she asked dully.

‘Oh, by tomorrow at the very latest and we shall contact you to inform you of the results immediately. I believe there is a telephone at the house where you are staying. Meanwhile I can assure you that Sarah is getting the best possible care and she is as comfortable as could be expected.’

‘Thank you.’ Briony rose from the chair. She would have given anything for just one peep at her little sister but she could understand why the Sister was being so cautious. It really wouldn’t do to put Mabel and Alfie at risk too.

‘I’ll wait for your call in the morning then,’ she said in a small voice. She couldn’t see even her grandmother objecting to this one, although she had flatly refused to go to the hospital with her, saying that she was too busy caring for her husband.

‘So how is she then?’ Mrs Dower asked the second Briony set foot back through the door. On hearing the news, she said sensibly, ‘Well, there’s no point you making yourself ill as well. And it’s not so very long till tomorrow morning. At least we’ll know what we’re up against then. Just try and keep your chin up, eh?’

It was much easier said than done, and once the children had been tucked into bed, Briony tried to read a magazine to distract herself, but the words kept blurring into one another. When the door suddenly blew open at eight o’clock and Howel walked in with a gust of wind she could have kissed him, she was so pleased to see him.

‘I thought you might be glad of a bit of company,’ he said, unwinding his scarf from around his neck.

She nodded. ‘Oh yes I would, thank you. I can’t seem to concentrate on anything. Do you think I should get in touch with my mum and tell her what’s going on? I thought we could perhaps send her a telegram.’

‘I wouldn’t if I were you, not till you know for sure what’s wrong with Sarah,’ he answered wisely. ‘Your mother would only want to come, no doubt – and what would be the point of travelling all that way if no one is allowed to see Sarah?’

‘I suppose you’re right.’ Briony stared into the flames as Howel filled a pan with milk.

‘I’ll make us a nice cup of cocoa, shall I?’ he suggested. ‘Mum always reckons it helps you to sleep.’

Briony left him to it. She didn’t really want a drink; in fact, she didn’t want anything – but she didn’t want to throw his kindness back in his face.

‘Have you been through to tell your grandparents what the Sister said?’ he asked as he bustled about getting cups ready, and Briony realised with a little shock that she hadn’t given it a thought.

‘Do you think I should?’

He nodded. ‘Yes, I do. Your grandpa will want to know at least, I’m sure. Why not go through now before they go to bed and I’ll have this ready for you when you get back.’

Briony tapped on the sitting-room door and after shouting for her to come in, her grandmother said snootily, ‘Yes? What is it, girl?’

‘I thought you might like to know what’s happening with Sarah,’ she said uncertainly, and when her grandfather nodded, she told them all she could.

‘Eeh, poor little maid,’ William said sympathetically. ‘But at least she’s in the right place. Try not to worry, dear. And if she needs anything, you just let us know, right?’

Briony focused on him and avoided looking at her grandmother. Marion was obviously jealous of the affection that had sprung up between them, and Briony sensed that had it not been for him, the woman would have sent them all packing by now, without a second thought.

‘Thank you. The hospital said they would ring with the test results in the morning. I hope that’s all right?’

‘Of course it is,’ he assured her. ‘Now you go and try to get some rest, and stop fretting. She’ll be fine, you’ll see.’

Briony was almost at the door when her grandmother suddenly said, ‘If it is polio, isn’t it highly contagious?’

Briony nodded.

‘In that case I shall insist that a bedroom is prepared for Alfie close to ours. I’ve no doubt Sarah has caught it from that dirty girl you took in! I knew she’d be trouble the moment I set eyes on her.’

‘She
hasn’t
caught it from Mabel,’ Briony answered defiantly. ‘And Mabel isn’t dirty now. Anyway, we don’t even know if it is polio yet. Two of the children from the village school have gone down with it already.’

‘Well, there you are then. Even if it wasn’t Mabel it was probably one of the evacuees that brought it here. I shall see that Alfie moves into this side of the house tomorrow – and there’s an end to it. Oh, and he can eat with us in future too!’

Briony was just too tired to argue and as she left the room she wondered if things could get any worse.

She told Howel what her grandmother had said when she re-joined him in the kitchen and he clenched his fists as anger coursed through him. ‘Bloody old sod,’ he muttered. ‘She was just the same with Seb when he was a kid, apparently. Still is, for that matter! It was always him and never your mother she had time for. I think she’s jealous of the girls getting too close to her man, even her own flesh and blood. But never mind, it’s not as if he’s going to be a hundred miles away, is it? He’ll only be just the other side of the door.’

‘But he’ll hate it,’ Briony whimpered as the events of the day caught up with her and tears coursed down her cheeks.

Howel put his arm about her heaving shoulders and hugged her to him, silently cursing Mrs Frasier. Poor Briony, as if she didn’t have enough to worry about with little Sarah. But she felt so good in his arms and he knew in that moment why he was no longer so keen on walking out with Megan; he had developed feelings for this lovely girl – for what good it would do him! Once the war was over she’d return to the Midlands and he’d probably never see her again. The thought was depressing.

The next morning, Briony kept the door into the hallway open as she waited for the telephone to ring and at twenty minutes past nine, as soon as she’d got back from school, it finally did.

Racing into the hall she snatched it up and a man’s voice sounded down the line. ‘Hello. Am I speaking to Miss Briony Valentine?’

‘Yes,’ Briony managed to squeak and seconds later she placed the phone down again in a daze. Her grandfather had somehow managed to wheel himself out into the hallway and he gazed at her questioningly.

‘That was the doctor from the hospital. It . . . it is polio . . . and her chest infection has developed into pneumonia as Dr Restarick feared. They’re going to transfer her to the hospital in Truro this morning by ambulance. They . . . they’ve said that she’s very poorly indeed and I won’t be allowed to visit her. She’ll be all alone. They think that Sarah and the other girl caught it off the little boy evacuee. They were all in the same class, you see.’ She began to weep.

‘Oh, my dear.’ Her grandfather was floundering for something to say that might make her feel better, but he could think of nothing. Words were so inadequate at a time like this. He had found Briony’s dedication to her siblings to be commendable and he could only begin to imagine how she must be feeling.

‘I . . . I shall have to get word to my mother,’ Briony sobbed and he nodded.

‘Of course you must. I’ll get Howel to go to the post office in the village and send her a telegram at once. Is he here yet?’

‘Yes, he’s in the kitchen.’ Briony was gripping the hall table for support. Her legs felt as if they were going to let her down and a terrible feeling of foreboding had come over her. Suddenly she feared that she might never see her little sister again and the thought was almost more than she could bear.

‘Send him in to me, please,’ her grandfather told her, taking control of the situation. ‘We’ll write down what we want to say and he can go and send word to your mother right away. I’ll ask Lois to telephone you.’

‘
Who
will you tell to telephone her?’ Marion Frasier had just appeared from upstairs and as her husband hurriedly explained what had happened, she opened her mouth to object – but then seeing the look on his face she clamped it shut again.

Briony stumbled towards the kitchen. Everything felt unreal and she prayed that she was in the middle of a nightmare. This couldn’t be happening. Sarah was just nine years old.

Luckily Mrs Dower had come to the house too, sensing that Briony would be in no fit state to do anything today, and whilst Howel went to speak to William she pressed the girl into a chair and plied her with yet more hot sweet tea. Briony felt as if she was drowning in the bloody stuff but she took it all the same and stared listlessly into the fire.