The Soldier's Daughter (42 page)

‘Morning my bird,’ she said – then promptly burst into tears.

‘What’s happened?’ Briony asked. ‘What is it?’ It was usually Mrs Dower comforting her, but today it was Briony who placed her arm about the woman’s heaving shoulders.

‘It’s poor Howel,’ she sobbed. ‘He was set upon last night up in the top field while he was attending to a pregnant ewe, and he’s in a bad way.’

‘What do you mean
set upon?
’ Briony was horrified.

‘Just what I say – beaten up. The doctor’s only just gone. And that isn’t all. Old Ben must have defended his master, and the heartless bullies stabbed him! The dear old boy passed away during the night. Caden is out in the orchard burying him now.’

Briony suddenly felt sick, but holding herself together she managed, ‘And how bad is Howel?’

‘Well, thankfully the doctor reckons he was lucky. Lucky, he calls it! He’s got a cracked rib and his face is all colours of the rainbow, with the cuts and bruises, but apart from that and a bit of concussion, he should be all right eventually. I’ll tell you now though – if I could get my hands on the cowards who did this, I’d strangle them without a second thought.’

‘But who on earth would attack Howel?’ Briony asked in stunned disbelief. And then suddenly she recalled Sebastian’s friend sporting a black eye earlier that morning – and everything fell into place. Sebastian had set this up, she just knew it, in revenge for the time Howel had thumped him after his attempted rape of Talwyn. What was it he had said at the time?
I’ll bide my time but you’ll live to regret this, Dower!

As she looked towards Mrs Dower, without a word being exchanged she saw that she was thinking the same thing – but how could they ever prove it?

‘Did he see who attacked him?’ she asked in a small voice.

Mrs Dower shook her head. ‘No. It was dark and they came at him from behind, but he knows there were at least two of them because one held him down while the other beat him up.’

She swiped a tear from her cheek with the back of her hand. ‘He seems more upset about losing Ben at present,’ she went on, ‘but he reckons he did manage to give one of them a good punch at some point, afore he lost consciousness.’

That would account for the black eye Sebastian’s friend had been sporting, Briony thought again, but how could she say anything? Sebastian was her uncle, and if Mrs Dower tried to implicate him, she and her family could well be thrown out of their home.

‘May I see him?’ she asked.

Mrs Dower nodded. ‘You’ll find him in the second bedroom along the landing on your left. But don’t stay too long, my bird. The doctor says he needs his rest. He only came round properly a couple of hours ago.’

‘I won’t,’ Briony promised.

Once upstairs she tapped gently on the bedroom door before inching it open – and then as she saw the state of Howel her breath caught in her throat and she felt like crying. He appeared to be asleep so she tiptoed towards the bed and stared down at him. His face was almost unrecognisable and the stitches stood out on the ugly gash on his cheek.

His top half was naked but the doctor had tightly bound his broken rib. Even his chest and his arms were bruised, and a thin dribble of saliva was trickling through his lips which were bloodied and cracked.

‘Oh, Howel,’ she whispered tenderly. She took his hand and his eyes flickered open just enough to see her.

‘B . . . Br . . .’

‘Don’t try to talk,’ she urged, seeing the effort it cost him. ‘Just rest. Do you want anything?’

He raised his other hand, weakly pointing towards the tumbler of water that stood on the bedside table. She slipped her hand gently behind his head and raised it just enough so that he could sip it.

His eyes held hers as he dropped back onto the pillow and suddenly rage took the place of her distress. Had Sebastian been there, she would have set about him herself.

‘I’m going home now,’ she told Howel. ‘But I’ll be back later this afternoon. You just concentrate on getting well again, eh?’

He squeezed her fingers and she left the room quickly, afraid of letting him see how distraught she was.

Anger lent speed to her feet, and she barely remembered making the journey back home. The attackers had beaten her dear friend to within an inch of his life and if Sebastian was responsible for this, she knew that she would never be able to forgive him.

Storming through the kitchen without even stopping to take her outdoor shoes or her coat off, she made for the sitting room and banged the door open without knocking.

Her grandmother had been dozing in the chair and Briony strode over to her, hands on hips, her eyes flashing fire.

‘Howel has been badly beaten,’ she told her without preamble. ‘And I think it was Sebastian’s friends that did it.’

Regaining her composure, her grandmother folded her hands primly in her lap. ‘And do you have any proof of this, girl?’ Her voice was icy and suddenly Briony’s shoulders sagged and she deflated like a balloon.

‘Well . . . no.’

‘Then I suggest you keep your accusations to yourself. You could find yourself in very serious trouble if you go around saying things like that.’

‘But I saw one of Sebastian’s friends leaving this morning and he had a black—’

‘
Enough!
’ The woman held her hand up and glared at her. ‘If you continue to talk such rubbish I shall have no alternative but to ask you to leave – and where would you all go then, eh? Your mother is no longer at home waiting for you all now, is she?’

The cruelty of her words hit Briony like a hammer blow, and turning about she left the room without another word. Mrs Frasier had her well and truly over a barrel now – until the war was over and Ernie could take her away from here, at least – and she obviously knew it.

‘Oh Ernie,
please
hurry and come home,’ she muttered as she entered the kitchen, and then dropping onto the nearest chair, she let go and wept bitterly.

On a warm morning in May 1941 Alfie hopped from foot to foot as he stared off down the drive.

‘How much longer will she be now, Briony?’ he asked for at least the tenth time in as many minutes.

His big sister grinned as she gave him a hug. ‘She’ll be here soon,’ she promised. A week ago, Dr Restarick had brought the joyful news that Sarah would be coming home, and ever since then Briony and the children had been in a permanent state of excitement, although Briony’s feelings were tempered with anxiety.

Dr Restarick had warned her that Sarah would be forced to wear a calliper on her crippled leg for the rest of her life and Briony wondered how the little girl would cope with that. But still, Sarah was alive and that was the main thing. They would manage somehow.

At last the ambulance turned into the drive leading to the house, and as it came towards them through the canopy of trees, Briony’s heart began to flutter. She was longing to see her little sister again, but dreaded having to tell her about their mum. Dr Restarick had thought it best that she didn’t know about it while she was in hospital in case it impeded her recovery, but now it couldn’t be postponed any longer. Briony would just have to choose her moment.

The ambulance drew to a halt and Alfie and Mabel ran to the back doors expectantly. Moments later they were opened and Briony stared at Sarah. She knew that it was her sister – and yet she scarcely recognised her. Sarah had always been a dainty child but now she looked even smaller than Mabel, and her face was white and pinched.

Briony hovered uncertainly as the ambulanceman lifted the child down before saying cheerfully, ‘She’s all yours then, miss. Good luck, Sarah.’ Then with a friendly wave he placed Sarah’s case on the ground and hopped back into the ambulance as Briony wrapped her arm protectively about her little sister. She was so thin that she could feel the bones in her arms through her cardigan. Desperately trying not to look at the ugly iron calliper on her leg she said, ‘Come on in, love. Mrs Dower has made you one of your favourite sponge cakes and there are some scones too to have with clotted cream and jam.’

She lifted Sarah’s case with one hand and took her firmly by the hand with the other, and as Sarah swung the ungainly crippled leg in front of her, it took Briony all her self-control not to burst into tears.

Mrs Dower and Howel, who was now recovered from his beating, both came to see her later that afternoon and made a great fuss of her, but Briony noticed that her grandmother didn’t even enquire how the child was when she took her afternoon tea through to her. It didn’t overly concern her. Since the argument they had had following the night that Howel had been injured, Briony only ever spoke to her when she had to.

She broached the subject of their mother’s death as she was helping the little girl to undress that night, and for a moment Sarah stared at her as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

‘
What?
You mean Mummy is dead too . . . like Daddy?’

Briony nodded as she struggled once again to hold back her tears. ‘Yes, she is,’ she said, trying to keep her voice even. ‘But she died being very brave. She saved a little girl’s life and we must be very proud of her.’ She had just removed the calliper from Sarah’s wasted leg and the sight of it was breaking her heart.

She had expected tears but to her surprise, Sarah’s small face hardened and she thrust her big sister away from her.

‘It’s
your
fault,’ she ground out, pointing a shaking finger in Briony’s face. ‘She died ’cos you didn’t care about her. You don’t care about
anybody
– that’s why you didn’t come to see me in the hospital.’

‘That’s not true!’ Briony gasped. ‘I wasn’t
allowed
to come and see you. If they’d let me, I would have walked a hundred miles to be with you, you must know that!’

Sarah had been quiet all day and it had not turned out to be anything like the homecoming Briony had hoped for, despite everyone’s best efforts. Now at last she understood why. Sarah was angry because she had thought no one had cared about her and she had been left to face the terrible treatment they had meted out to her in the hospital all alone.

‘Think about it,’ she urged as she grabbed Sarah’s hands and gently shook them up and down. ‘
No one
had visitors in there, did they? That’s because the disease is highly contagious for a certain time and after that the doctors think that family visits will be too unsettling for the patients. I don’t agree with it at all, but I had to obey the rules the same as everyone else.’

Sarah stared at her uncertainly for a moment, and then suddenly her face crumpled and the tears came fast and furious, spurting from her eyes to run in rivers down her pale cheeks.

‘I . . . I don’t have anyone now then, do I?’

‘Oh yes, you do,’ Briony said as she hugged the frail body to her. ‘You have me and Alfie and Mabel, and I’ll always be there for you –
always
.’ And they cried in each other’s arms at the injustice of life.

For the inhabitants of Poldak life went on relatively normally, apart from the ugly rolls of barbed wire that had been strung along the beaches like some formidable necklace.

Alfie complained about it every time they ventured down onto the beach, which Briony ensured they did whenever Howel had time to carry Sarah down the steps leading to it. The heavy calliper made climbing steps virtually impossible for her, although she had mastered the art of walking with it now and could almost keep up with the others on a straight path.

Briony thought the little girl had been very brave and was inordinately proud of her. She had gone back to school and had already almost caught up with all the lessons she had missed. At last Briony was beginning to feel that the child would be able to lead a comparatively normal life despite the handicap of her withered leg, but only time would tell. For now they just got on with things as best they could and were grateful that they had each other.

Briony had now virtually taken over the running of the house, giving Mrs Dower more time to spend on her farm, but Howel still came daily to deliver the fresh food supplies and Briony continued to wonder what they would do without him.

The weather on this particular July day was wonderful. Cotton wool clouds skated lazily across a pale blue sky and the sun was out in all her glory. The children had just broken up from school for their summer holidays and they were all waiting for the arrival of Ruth and Mrs Brindley, who were coming to stay with them again for a few days. They were all very excited about it and Alfie kept running around to the front of the house to peer down the drive for a sign of them. He still thought of Ruth and Mrs Brindley as his link with his former home, and whenever they wrote to Briony he would make her read the letter out to him at least a dozen times. The only ones she kept to herself were the rare ones she received from Ernie and they were for her and her alone.

‘They’re comin’!’ Briony heard Alfie shout suddenly as he skidded across the cobbles in the courtyard and then he was off running like the wind to meet Caden’s horse and trap. As before, the visitors would be staying at Kynance Farm, but they would be spending the days with Briony and the children.

When they entered the kitchen, Mrs Brindley declared, ‘By, pet! Yer get prettier every time I clap eyes on yer.’ She held Briony at arm’s length to look at her. The girl’s hair hung down her back like a black silk cloak, and with her sun-kissed arms and shining eyes she was a sight for sore eyes.

‘You both look well too,’ Briony responded, glancing from Mrs Brindley to Ruth.

Ruth had slimmed down considerably and she’d had her hair styled into a neat chin-length bob that showed off her heart-shaped face to perfection. She was wearing a straight calf-length navy-blue skirt and a short-sleeved white blouse that was trimmed with lace, and Briony had never seen her look so elegant.

Now Ruth’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she said, ‘Well, happen Mrs Brindley’s got a spring in her step because of a certain gentleman.’

‘Give over!’ Mrs Brindley blushed to the roots of her hair, making her suddenly look quite girlish. ‘She’s on about Charlie,’ she told Briony. ‘Yer know? The chap I used to go to school wi’ that keeps the allotments. He’s took me to bingo an’ out fer a drink a few times an’ now this one ’ere is hearin’ weddin’ bells. I keep tellin’ ’er we’re nothin’ more than friends, but will she listen? But anyway, that’s enough about me. How are you lot keepin’?’