The Soldier's Daughter (33 page)

Lois had just returned from work when the telegram arrived and thankfully had not had time to have a drink. When she opened the door to find the telegram boy standing on the step yet again she wished that she had and her stomach flipped over. She took it from him without a word and stared at it for a moment as if it might bite her before steeling herself and ripping it open. As her eyes skimmed down the page her hand flew to her mouth and then the telegram fluttered to the floor as she rummaged frantically in her bag for shilling pieces for the telephone box. Trunk calls were expensive and she didn’t want to get cut off by the pips if she hadn’t put enough money into the slot. Mrs Brindley saw her race by her front window in her slippers and without a coat on and scratched her head in bewilderment, wondering what on earth could be going on now?

Lois meanwhile had reached the telephone box. It took two attempts to dial the right number but at last her father answered and she quickly pressed Button A. When her father’s voice came down the line once more, she gulped before whispering, ‘It’s me, Dad.’

‘Lois, are you all right, darling?’ His voice was so full of concern that it brought tears of regret to her eyes. She had missed him over the years.

‘Yes, I am – but what about my Sarah?’

She listened whilst he reported exactly what the doctor had told them and then she choked, ‘I’m coming. I have to see her!’

‘But she isn’t here, darling,’ he said gently, as if he was talking to a child. ‘And even if she was, no one is allowed to see her. But I promise you we will keep you fully informed of what is happening.’

‘But I . . . I can’t just do
nothing!
’ she sobbed brokenly and he could feel her pain. She had lost her husband and now there was a chance that she might lose one of her children too. He suddenly wished that he could just wave a magic wand to remove the miles that were dividing them so that he could kiss away her pain as he had used to do when she was a little girl.

‘Have faith,’ he said quietly and she laughed – a dry hollow laugh that chilled him to the bone.

‘What good will that do?’ she asked bitterly. ‘I had faith that James would come back safely to me – and what happened?
He died!
What if Sarah dies too?’

For a moment he was lost for words but then he said, ‘I’ve missed you,’ and those three little words healed a hole in her heart. At least her father still loved her.

‘I’ve missed you too,’ she answered in a wobbly voice. ‘And Daddy . . . I love you.’

‘I love you too, darling,’ he answered, ignoring his wife who had come to stand beside him and who was tense with jealous disapproval.

‘I’ll be in touch just as soon as we have any more news. In the meantime, try not to worry.’ Afterwards he thought how foolish those last words must have sounded. How could she
not
worry!

But then Marion was reaching for the phone, so he said lamely, ‘Goodbye for now, my dear.’ And as his wife took the receiver from him and slammed it down, he wished that he could have been stronger.

‘You are going to make yourself ill,’ his wife scolded as she turned his wheelchair about and pushed him back towards the sitting room. ‘Now I want you to sit quietly and listen to the wireless for a while. I have to organise a room for Alfred on our landing. I really cannot risk anything happening to him too. I believe that polio thrives on germs so I want the girl and Mrs Dower to disinfect all the rooms on that side of the house thoroughly.’

He wondered why her compassion could not extend to their granddaughters and Mabel too, but he allowed her to sit him by the fireplace and said nothing. Like everyone else who had dealings with his wife, he knew there would have been no point.

‘Do I ’
ave
to go an’ sleep in that side o’ the ’ouse?’ Alfie asked tearfully later that night as Briony took him by the hand. He was dressed in his pyjamas and was clutching his rather tatty teddy bear under his arm.

‘Yes, you do,’ Briony told him. ‘Grandmother has your room all ready for you and it’s lovely.’

‘Well, can you at least still tuck me in?’

She hesitated before nodding. ‘Yes, of course I will.’ And she would, she decided, even if it meant a fight with her grandmother. Thankfully it didn’t come to that, although Marion didn’t look at all happy with the idea.

Alfie was to have the room next to Sebastian’s and Mrs Dower had been up there for most of the afternoon cleaning it and making the bed up for him.

‘See, darling?’ his grandmother told him, pointing down the stairs. ‘I am just down there if you need me during the night. Grandfather and I have to sleep downstairs now because he can’t manage to get up here any more.’

Under other circumstances, Alfie would have been delighted with the room but as it was, he merely sniffed ungratefully. It was at least three times as big as the room he was used to sleeping in and Mrs Dower had lit a fire in the grate to air it out so it was nice and warm now. There was a highly polished wardrobe with a matching chest of drawers, as well as a very high bed in there, and the floor was covered in rugs in muted shades of red, blue and green similar to the ones in the sitting room downstairs. He thought they must have cost a lot of money because they were much nicer than the ones in the kitchen.

When Briony turned the covers back he hopped between the crisp white sheets and she drew them up to his chin as she bent to kiss him.

‘Sleep tight,’ she whispered, then forcing herself to leave him she walked past her grandmother as if she wasn’t even there. She was just too exhausted to argue tonight and anyway, in all fairness, she felt that the woman had a soft spot for Alfie, so hopefully he would be all right.

Her little brother was, in fact, in fine spirits when he strolled into the kitchen the following morning. Briony noticed that he was wearing new grey shorts and a new shirt. She had expected him to be upset but he seemed quite happy with the new sleeping arrangements.

‘Look what Grandma gave me to eat in my break at school,’ he greeted her, holding out his hand and showing off the Fry’s chocolate bar. ‘An’ she says I’m to ’ave breakfast in the dinin’ room wi’ her and Grandad this mornin’.’

‘Oh, all right.’ Briony glanced towards Howel, who shrugged his shoulders.

‘You’d better go through then. I’m just about to take the porridge in,’ Briony answered and he skipped away as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

‘So much for lying awake half the night worrying that he might be missing me,’ she said wryly.

‘Perhaps Mrs Frasier is mellowing in her old age,’ Howel chuckled and she sighed, feeling a little peeved that Alfie seemed so cheerful. Not that she’d wanted him to be upset . . . but all the same!

The atmosphere in the dining room was almost light-hearted when she carried the breakfast in on a tray – apart from Sebastian, that was, who glowered at her as she entered. Her grandmother was fussing over Alfie. She had tucked a white napkin into the neck of his shirt and she told Briony abruptly, ‘Serve Alfred first. We don’t want him to be late for school.’

Alfie seemed to be lapping up the attention as Briony ladled the thick creamy porridge into his dish before leaving the rest of them to serve themselves.

Once back in the kitchen she didn’t have much opportunity to think because time was rushing on and she didn’t want Mabel to be late for school either. When they got there, however, the teacher was waiting for them at the school gates. She said to Briony: ‘We’re so sorry to hear about Sarah. Let’s hope she makes a speedy recovery.’

Briony blinked rapidly and nodded. The pain of what was happening to her little sister was still very raw and she felt as if she could burst into tears at the drop of a sixpence.

‘The thing is though . . .’ Mrs Fellows hesitated here, looking decidedly uncomfortable. ‘We think under the circumstances that it might be better if Alfie and Mabel didn’t attend school for a while. Just until we’re sure that they are not incubating the disease too. We’re taking all the precautions we can to stop this from spreading. I do hope you understand? But in the meantime I’ve prepared some work for them to do at home so that they don’t fall behind.’

Briony took the sheaf of papers the woman was holding out to her, and feeling like a leper she said goodbye, turned the children about and led them away.

Neither Alfie nor Mabel seemed particularly perturbed about the fact that they couldn’t attend school for a time and Briony made sure to set some time aside each day to help them with the sums and the spellings that the teacher had written out for them.

On Sunday morning she got Alfie ready to go to chapel with his grandmother as usual, and once they had set off she made a pot of tea. After settling Mabel down with some comics to read, she carried it through to share with her grandfather. It had become a ritual and she looked forward to it now.

He was waiting for her when she carried the tray in. ‘Put it down there, my girl,’ he said ‘then come and sit by me and tell me how you’re feeling now.’

The first shock and panic about Sarah’s illness had worn off now to be replaced by a dull acceptance.

‘I’m all right,’ Briony answered, but he saw that her usual sparkle was absent. ‘I just hope they’ll keep us fully informed of how she’s doing. I’ve heard such terrible stories of the treatments these children get, like the hot cloths they put on their affected limbs. And it seems so cruel that they’re not even allowed to see their families. Sarah must think that we’ve deserted her.’

‘Well, you can rest assured that Dr Restarick will make sure that we receive all the details. He’s an old family friend and I’d trust him with my life. Also, you have to remember that they’re only doing what they feel is for Sarah’s own good. And it won’t be forever, will it?’

‘I suppose not.’ Briony handed him his cup and saucer then crossing to the window she stared out across the vast expanse of moorlands. The heather’s vivid shades of lilac and purple had faded to dull shades of brown now and it looked drab, just like she felt.

William began to talk of other things then. He had learned that he could hold a conversation with Briony about anything; she was an entertaining and intelligent young woman. He just wished that his wife would give her a chance, but Marion was so wrapped up in Alfie now that she had no time for the other children, which he thought was a shame.

They passed a pleasant fifteen minutes together, but then as Briony was loading the cups back onto the tray, Sebastian came into the room. After scowling at Briony he asked his father, ‘Are you ready for your bath now?’

William nodded. He hated having to be carried upstairs each week, especially now that he and his son were on such bad terms after he had refused to give him money again. But then this was the only way he could get a bath, so he supposed he would just have to grin and bear it. Glancing at Briony he winked affectionately and keeping her head down she hurried away back to the kitchen to prepare the Sunday dinner. She heard Sebastian carry his father upstairs then his heavy footsteps along the landing . . . and then there was silence and she got on with what she was doing.

It was almost an hour later when Sebastian appeared in the kitchen with a broad smile on his face, looking rather pleased with himself.

‘Ah, there you are,’ he said pleasantly. ‘I was wondering if there was a cup of tea going?’

She was so shocked that she almost dropped the leg of lamb she was just placing into the oven. Usually he could barely stand to be in the same room as her, so why was he seeking her company now?

‘I suppose I could make you one,’ she said in a clipped voice as he settled himself at the kitchen table and then as she filled the kettle she asked, ‘Is Grandfather back in the sitting room?’

‘What? Oh no, actually he asked me to leave him for a while to have a soak – which is why I thought I’d pop down for a cuppa.’

Briony frowned. Knowing how William loathed having to be carried up and down the stairs, he usually wanted his bath over and done with as soon as possible; yet he must have been upstairs for well over an hour already. But then she decided, he was entitled to a soak now and again if he wanted one. She served Sebastian his tea as quickly as she could, barely giving it time to brew. For some reason, that terrible sense of foreboding she had felt when Sarah was taken ill was back again but she couldn’t think why.

Sebastian sat there sipping it as if he had all day until Briony’s nerves were stretched to the limit and eventually she asked, ‘Don’t you think you ought to go up and check on Grandfather now? He’s been up there an awfully long time and he can’t get out of the bath by himself.’

He smiled at her charmingly, revealing a set of surprisingly white teeth. ‘I’ll tell you what, why don’t you go up and check on the old boy for me while I finish this tea?’

Again she was taken aback, but after drying her hands on her apron she headed upstairs. Once she was outside the bathroom door she waited for a second, but hearing nothing she tapped on it lightly. There was no reply so she knocked again, louder this time.

‘Grandfather . . . are you all right?’

Nothing – so now she raced back downstairs and bursting into the kitchen she told Sebastian breathlessly, ‘He’s not answering. I knocked on the door twice and I shouted to him but I couldn’t get a reply!’

‘What do you mean?’ Sebastian stood up and followed her upstairs.

‘He’s probably nodded off,’ he assured her as he opened the door – and then she heard him gasp and she raced into the room only to stop dead in her tracks as she saw her grandfather’s sightless eyes staring up at her from beneath the water. She yanked the plug out.

‘I’m going to phone the doctor,’ She told Sebastian. ‘Get him out while I’m gone and turn him on his side.’

Her hands shook as she dialled the doctor’s number but eventually she managed to gabble out what had happened to Dr Restarick’s wife, who promised her that the doctor would be with her as soon as possible. Briony dropped the phone then and rushed back upstairs. Sebastian had lifted his father from the bath and covered him with a towel on the floor. Dropping to her knees, Briony grasped the dear old man’s hand and sobbed, ‘
Please
speak to me, Grandfather!’