The Beekeeper's War, page 29
‘I forget you’ve never seen the house as it was intended,’ Monty said, giving an approving nod when the footman came to remove the used crockery. ‘I’m sure Jean will enjoy giving you a guided tour of the place, won’t you, dear?’
‘Sorry? Yes, of course.’
‘So, Sam,’ Pru said, wanting to divert attention from herself. ‘How are you finding the flying? Is the RAF all that you imagined it would be?’
Sam’s face lit up. ‘I’m loving every second, Aunt Pru. Things are getting busier now for us, which is good. I’m looking forward to being useful and putting all my training into action.’
Pru listened as her handsome nephew spoke. She hadn’t failed to notice the way his face had lit up when Emma addressed him during her visit the other day, and thinking back to how her daughter had reacted to him, Pru realised that the two youngsters had feelings for each other. Her heart sank. She loved Sam, but she adored her daughter. Emma was clever and sociable but her life in Jersey had been very protected, unlike Sam, who had been sent to boarding school and learnt to fend for himself from the age of seven. She hated to think that he might end up breaking Emma’s heart as Jack had broken hers. If only he hadn’t become a pilot.
‘How did you manage to get permission to come back so soon?’ Jean asked her son, interrupting Pru’s musings.
‘Compassionate leave,’ he said. ‘I told him that my aunt had been rescued from the Channel Islands before it fell.’ He looked at Pru. ‘I’m sorry, I’m supposing that it will, although I probably shouldn’t say such a thing in front of you.’
‘It’s fine,’ she said. ‘I have a horrible feeling you’re right.’
‘Shall we go for that tour of the house, Jean?’ Pru suggested when they finished eating.
‘I’d like that.’ She turned to Sam. ‘We’ll see you later when you bring Emma back. Don’t be too long though, I’m sure she’ll be hoping to spend time with her mother.’
‘Thanks for fetching her, Sam,’ Pru said, sensing he was looking forward to seeing her daughter almost as much as she had been. ‘Shall we go now?’ She smiled at Monty. ‘I feel a little badly taking Jean off and leaving you all alone.’
Monty shook his head. ‘Don’t. I’m happy to sit here enjoying one of my cigars and quietly contemplating life.’
‘Come along, Pru,’ Jean said, pulling a face at her husband. ‘I’ve never known Monty to do anything quietly, have you?’
Pru admitted that she hadn’t and walked over to her friend and linked arms with her. ‘Where shall we begin?’
Jean nudged her. ‘I know just the place.’
They went out to the hall.
‘Wasn’t the drawing room a ward when we worked here?’ Pru asked, trying to picture it as it had been without the comfortable sofas and elegant soft furnishings.
‘That’s right.’
They crossed to the double doors that Pru remembered as the entry to Ward Two and walked in. Pru stood just inside the room and stared around her. Where once there had been plain curtains, now hung heavy velvet material. Where the patients’ beds, their visitor chairs and the screens had been, now had nothing apart from polished flooring lit by the many wall sconces and three chandeliers, an enormous one in the middle of the rectangular room and two smaller ones on either side of it.
‘This room seems so much bigger.’
Jean looked around her thoughtfully. ‘I always thought it seemed bigger with the beds and paraphernalia inside.’
Pru gazed to the end of the room on the right where Monty’s bed had been and pictured him lying there, his cheeky retorts and Jean’s shyness around him. ‘Monty was over there, wasn’t he?’
‘He was. Those were such…’ She hesitated. ‘I want to say special days, but so many terrible things happened that it would seem wrong to describe it that way.’
Pru understood Jean’s sentiment. ‘And the young private whose bed was next to Monty’s,’ she said. ‘I felt sorry for him not having any visitors – until he started the fire that caused so much damage and killed dear, sweet Milly.’
Sadness swept through her as she thought of her lovely friend who had already suffered so much in her young life by the time she and Jean had met her. ‘I think of her sometimes,’ she admitted. ‘I wonder what sort of life she might have enjoyed if that young chap hadn’t ended her life so tragically.’
‘So do I.’
They gazed silently into the room, Pru not seeing it as it was now but as she remembered it.
She suddenly felt the heat from Jean’s hands as she gently rubbed Pru’s upper arms. ‘Let’s go somewhere else. I think we’ve been here long enough.’
Pru was happy to stay and try to recall more. It had been such a strange time during the last war, but had also been her first taste of freedom, and passion.
‘Where to now?’ she asked trying to sound a little playful.
‘You’ll have to wait and see.’ Jean grinned at her. ‘Come along.’
Jean left the room and Pru followed, giving the ballroom one last glance before closing the door and hurrying down the corridor to catch up with her friend.
She noticed Jean’s footsteps slow slightly as they neared a cupboard door and Pru’s heart raced as memories flooded back. ‘The sluice room.’
‘Do you want to look inside?’ Jean asked. ‘We use it as a boot room now, but it used to be the sluice room back then.’
‘Yes, please.’ Pru took hold of the handle and turned, holding her breath as she pushed the door open and saw the small window and the racks either side of the room that had once held pots and bedpans. This was where Jack had asked her out to dinner that first time. She had loved him so much. She closed her eyes, glad that Jean was standing behind her and couldn’t see how deeply affected she was by being there. It might be used for different things now but the atmosphere was still the same. She breathed in, happy there was still a slight hint of the smell she found so familiar.
Pru wrapped her arms around herself. ‘I’m sorry, Jean.’
‘What for?’
She seemed genuinely surprised, Pru realised. ‘For being insensitive. You’ve lost Peter and I’m spending my time upset about Jack and all that happened between us.’
Jean wrapped her arms around Pru and hugged her before letting go and smiling at her. ‘You’ve been through an awful lot these past few months,’ she said. ‘I’m the one who should be apologising, not you.’
Pru laughed. ‘What a pair we are.’ She was relieved that the tension between them had evaporated as quickly as it had appeared.
‘A pair of what exactly?’ Jean grinned, leading Pru out of the room and closing the door.
‘I don’t know…’ Pru racked her mind for something amusing. ‘Nitwits.’
Jean laughed loudly. ‘Hah, that’s typical of you. Nitwits.’ She giggled again. ‘Isn’t that what Matron called us once?’
Pru thought back and realised that Jean was right. ‘Yes, she did.’ She frowned. ‘I wonder whatever happened to the old bat?’
‘Went to live with a cousin a few years after the war, or so Monty told me. Though how he knew, I’ve no idea.’
‘I’m sure Monty knows everyone.’ Or he always seemed to, Pru thought.
Jean took her to a few more of the rooms. ‘Shall we go to the attic where we shared a room with Milly now, or wait until another day?’
Pru didn’t fancy going back to where they had spent so many happy times with their friend. She suspected that if she did see it tonight then her sleep would be filled with dreams of Milly and she wasn’t ready for that, not yet. ‘Maybe another time.’
‘Yes, I agree.’ Jean linked arms with her again. ‘We could probably both do with a drink. Shall we go and see what Monty’s up to?’
‘Probably on his second cigar by now, don’t you think?’ Pru had no idea but had noticed the look of delight on his face when they had decided to leave him and look around the house.
‘He’d better not be,’ Jean said. She leaned in slightly closer to Pru despite them being alone. ‘He’s not as well as he’d like everyone to believe,’ she confided. ‘It’s his heart. But typically Monty won’t take any notice.’
‘Has his doctor told him to cut down on the cigars?’
Jean rolled her eyes. ‘Supposedly. He’s only smoking one a day now,’ she said, ‘but it’s the size of the three that he used to smoke, so he’s not really doing what he’s told.’
Pru couldn’t help feeling amused at her old friend. ‘He’s always been such a character, Jean. I’m so glad that you two were married.’
They reached the drawing room just as Pru heard the tyres of Sam’s sports car crunching on the gravel driveway. ‘The children are back,’ she said happily. ‘I’m looking forward to spending the weekend with Emma.’
‘I’m sure you are,’ Jean said. ‘I’ll give you some time alone with her. We’ll continue with our tour of the manor house another time?’
‘That would be wonderful.’
‘Now, I’ll leave you to go and see your lovely daughter. You must have so much to talk about. I’ve put you both in the same bedroom. That way you can chat with each other to your hearts’ content. I do hope that’s okay.’
‘Thank you, Jean,’ Pru said, touched by her friend’s thoughtfulness. ‘That’s such a kind thing to do.’
That night, after she and Emma had bathed and were lying in their beds, Pru thought how grateful she was to be with her daughter once again.
‘Has it been really horrible for you, Mum?’ Emma asked into the darkness.
‘A little,’ she admitted, not wishing to go into detail.
‘Do you mind telling me a little about how it was?’ she asked. ‘I don’t know what’s worse,’ she said, her voice low and emotional, ‘having to leave your home and friends behind with nothing more than a suitcase or staying on the islands and having to face the unknown. It’s incredibly frightening, all this, don’t you think?’
Pru did. ‘It is, darling. We’re living in uncertain times, but we must stay strong and remember we’re luckier than most evacuees. At least we have relatives who have offered us somewhere safe to stay. And most of all, I’m grateful that we’re back together again. I don’t know how I would have coped if I hadn’t been able to leave.’
Pru cleared her throat to stop herself from crying. The thought of having to spend heaven knows how long apart from her daughter was too much to cope with. And suddenly she realised that it if hadn’t been for Jack it might have happened. ‘That didn’t happen, thankfully and we mustn’t torment ourselves with what ifs.’ She had done that for far too long in her life already, she thought.
‘I agree.’
Pru heard the wobble in her daughter’s voice and got out of bed, wanting to comfort her. ‘Move over,’ she said, lifting the sheets and blanket up on one side of her daughter’s bed and sliding in next to her. Pru rested her arm on one of the pillows and felt as if all was well in her world when her daughter rested her head on it and snuggled in beside her.
‘It’s good to be with you again, Mum,’ Emma said, sniffing.
‘It’s perfectly understandable if you want to cry, darling,’ Pru soothed as Emma’s tears dampened her chest. ‘Everything will be fine. You mustn’t worry.’
She knew from experience that she had no idea how things would be, but right now, she had more than enough to be thankful for.
Thirty-Nine
Pru
June 1940
Pru woke just before five in the morning. It was a treat to slowly come round after a proper night’s sleep and lie in the peaceful bedroom, alone with her thoughts for a while. The previous few days had been exhausting and it was a joy to know that she was back together with her darling daughter.
She stretched languorously and turned on her side to watch Emma’s sweet face as she slept. Pru didn’t want to disturb her and so got out of bed, walking over to the window and peeking through a tiny gap in the curtains. The sky was lightening and it was almost sunrise so she wrote a note letting Emma know she had gone for a walk and would see her at breakfast and then washed and dressed before creeping out of their bedroom.
As Pru descended the main stairs, she heard distant voices emanating from the kitchen and other rooms where servants were preparing the house for the family to start their day. Pru knew that if she left by the front door one of the servants might spot her and also that her footsteps would be heard on the gravel, so she turned right at the bottom of the stairs and carrying her shoes in her hands, ran along the corridor in her stockinged feet. She was reminded of the times she had run down this same corridor on her way to meet Jack all those years before and for a few seconds allowed herself to imagine she was doing the same thing once again.
She reached the side door, unlocked it and, after a little bit of a struggle, unbolted it at the top. Finally she was outside. She slipped her feet into her shoes and ran along the familiar pathway into the woods, feeling free for the first time in months. She stopped when she reached the pine trees and breathed in deeply, relishing the delicious scent she recognised and loved so much. It reminded her of the large pine trees near their home in Jersey.
As she strolled out of the wood, Pru slowed to gaze at the long meadow leading down to the green expanse in front of her where, in the distance on a slight incline, stood the circular folly where she and Jack had first made love. Her heart ached to think how much they had missed in the past twenty-two years. Pru gazed longingly at the low morning mist hanging in the dip between where she stood and the folly, the diffused light making the pretty building remind her of a princess’s castle from a fairy tale. Her mind drifted back to the years of the Great War when so much had seemed possible and the urgency of living had forced her to make decisions she would have never imagined before.
She took a deep breath and, not wishing to miss the chance of taking this walk alone, began making her way down the meadow towards the folly. She passed the walled garden to the right where Jack kept his hives. She couldn’t decide whether to keep going to the folly or look at the walled garden first. She had imagined coming here so many times over the years, hoping to take a peek in the windows, willing nothing to have changed inside. It was a silly notion, she decided, losing her nerve, and deciding to look around the walled garden instead.
She wasn’t ready to have her delicious memories of her and Jack’s precious hours together in the circular room taken from her just yet. How different must it be now that Jack had moved in permanently, she wondered? She would wait until later in the day when there was no chance of disturbing him in his private space but in the meantime she stopped and stared at the folly once more, thinking back to the happiest time in her life when her darling Emma had been conceived. She realised she was crying and tried to snap herself out of her sense of sadness. There was no point in raking over old memories, not if she wanted to enjoy being here with her friends and Emma.
Enough. She turned away and made her way through the long grass speckled with daisies, buttercups, poppies and cornflowers, and stopped to pick several of them on her way to the gate into the walled garden.
She stepped through the gate and something caught her eye – Jack. He was in his beekeeper outfit and didn’t seem to have noticed her, so intently was he focusing on his work. She watched from the gate, not wishing to disturb him as he replaced what seemed to be the lid on one of the hives. Then, he picked up a can with smoke coming from it and walked over to another hive.
She enjoyed seeing him like this, when he was completely at ease and lost in what he loved doing. Suddenly he froze and Pru tensed as he stood upright and slowly turned to face her. She wished he didn’t have that strange hat with the netting over his face because she couldn’t tell if he was annoyed and whether she should leave straightaway. He didn’t move but seemed to be looking in her direction.
‘Despite that netting across your face, I would have recognised you anywhere,’ she said.
They stared at each other in silence and she wasn’t sure what to do next. Then, after bending to place the smoking can on the stony pathway, he straightened up and began to remove the strange hat.
Pru barely breathed as the netting gradually inched up to uncover his face. Finally, it was gone and she stared at the face of the man she had dreamt about and longed for.
‘You never told me what they did to you when you were captured and taken to that chateau,’ she said, looking at the crisscross of scars on one side of his face. Staring at him now that she was not in shock – as she had been, seeing him standing so unexpectedly on her doorstep that day – she was able to take in his beautiful mouth and once perfect lips and how they were now pulled down on one side. She hated to think how much he had suffered. If she hadn’t been so stunned and furious with him when he came to fetch her in Jersey and then refused to look at him on the journey to the manor, she might have noticed the deep sadness in his eyes.
He swallowed. ‘Not pretty, is it?’
The sound of his deep, melodic voice sent the same shockwaves through her as it had done over twenty years before. ‘It’s still you though, Jack, and that’s all that matters to me. And it’s all that will matter to our daughter.’
‘We need to talk, don’t we?’
‘We do.’
‘Would you like to stay here or go to the folly? No one will disturb us there.’
Countless times over the years she had imagined something similar happening but each time she had woken and it had all been a dream.
‘Yes, that’s a good idea.’
They reached the folly steps and as he strode up them she could see he was trying to hide his slight limp. He opened the door and Pru walked in and sat on the sofa. It was a newer sofa but still set facing the small fireplace she recalled from when she had last been in here. He closed the door and removed the rest of his beekeeper outfit.
