The Poacher's Daughter, page 18
My dearest Mother,
None of us will be coming home at Christmas. It is not encouraged because it might tempt chaps to go AWOL (Absent Without Leave) or even to desert. The six of us have had a serious talk and have all agreed that we won’t come home – not even for an embarkation leave when it comes, as it surely must. We think it would be too painful for all concerned. Leaving the first time was hard enough. Now, it would be a hundred times worse . . .
Grace kept her son’s confidence She didn’t even tell William.
Knowing nothing of Byron’s letter to his mother, the villagers could only wonder.
‘We don’t even know where they are,’ Nell moaned to Ivy as they put together a parcel for their boys.
‘I hope they’re still all together,’ Ivy said. ‘They’ll be able to make a bit of a Christmas if they are. I’ll tell you summat for nothing, Nell. Folks are missing Sam Waterhouse and Rosie, especially those who can’t find work on the land at the moment.’ She sighed. ‘Hardship’s always happened in winter, but now there’s no one to catch a few rabbits for them, is there?’
‘No,’ Nell said firmly, ‘there isn’t.’ She was not going to let it be known – and especially not to Ivy Bates – but there was one person who was prepared to steal out into the night and set a few snares at the far extremity of the woodland where the new gamekeeper rarely ventured: Amos. In the confines of Nell’s cottage, the two of them laughed together at the irony of the turn of events.
‘Gamekeeper turned poacher,’ Nell teased him. ‘Who’d have thought it?’
‘Not that old bastard down in the vale, that’s for sure.’
‘Don’t get caught, Amos, that’s all I ask.’
‘I’ll do me best, Nell, ’cos I know I’d get no mercy.’ He tapped the side of his nose, ‘but you see I have an advantage. I know the sort of weather that’s best for poaching, so I know when a gamekeeper would go out looking. I don’t go out on them nights. I go when the weather’s not right, but the rabbits and hares are still running.’ He said nothing about his little arrangement with the new keeper. Not even to Nell. The fewer people who knew about that, the better.
No one else, apart from Nell and Ralph Carter, knew about Amos’s night-time excursions onto the land he had once protected, and when Nell took a rabbit or a hare or even a pheasant or partridge – to a family in need, they all had the good sense not to ask how she had come by it, but accepted it gratefully.
It was an even stranger time in the trenches near Ypres, in Belgium. On the Western front, following an offensive action lasting ten days in appalling weather, the guns on both sides fell silent on Christmas Eve. The British in their trenches heard the sound of carols echoing across the wasteland between them and the German trenches. Cautiously they climbed their ladders to peer over the top and saw candles and small Christmas trees had been placed along the enemy line. And then, to their amazement, German soldiers climbed out and called to their enemy to come to meet them. Cautiously, at first, and then with growing confidence, the British soldiers scrambled out of their trenches too and crossed the space between them. For the rest of the day – and in some places for most of the following week – the two sides exchanged gifts, chatted and even played football. When the authorities got to hear what was happening, they attempted to stop it immediately.
On New Year’s Eve, the men of the village pored over Ted’s newspaper in the Thornsby Arms.
‘Have you seen this?’ Terry Chambers jabbed at the page. ‘On Christmas Eve our lads heard the Hun singing and then one of ’em shouted across, daring one of our lot to go over for a bottle of wine.’
‘D’you mean one of our lads from the village?’
‘Nah, just one of the British soldiers.’
‘Oh, right. Go on. Did he go?’
‘Aye, he did and he took them a cake.’
‘Then what?’
‘A lot of them on both sides climbed out of their trenches and met in the middle. That’s what they call no-man’s-land, isn’t it? Our lads even helped the Germans bury some of their dead.’
‘Never!’
‘That’s what it says here.’
Someone laughed wryly. ‘I bet the officers didn’t like it. They wouldn’t approve of fraternizing with the enemy.’
‘No,’ Terry said slowly, ‘I don’t expect they did. But it proves one thing, doesn’t it?’ The faces around him were blank until he smiled grimly and added, ‘The ordinary German soldier doesn’t want this war any more than we do.’
Christmas at Thornsby Manor was a very subdued affair. No Byron, no Pearl and no grandson to spoil, and the shadow of the war hung over the whole community. The staff cared for their employers as they always had done, but everyone lacked the heart for merrymaking. Grace said nothing of her plans to anyone but on the day after New Year’s Day, she dropped her bombshell.
‘You’re going to do what?’ William spluttered.
Calmly, Grace repeated what she had just said. ‘I’m leaving on Monday to go to work in a hospital for the wounded coming back from France and Belgium.’
He gaped at her. ‘You’ll do no such thing. I won’t hear of it.’
‘And how are you going to stop me?’
‘Lock you in your room, if I have to.’
‘The servants will release me . . .’
‘No, they won’t, if I tell them not to.’
Grace rose from her place at the table. ‘Oh, I think they will. You seem to forget that the person who runs this house, who employs all the staff, and who pays their wages, is me.’
‘Then I’ll sack the lot of them and employ my own.’
Grace smiled down at him, rather pityingly. ‘I think you’ll find, William, that there is now a dearth of domestic staff. In fact, we are lucky that so many have remained with us and have not volunteered.’
Now he too rose and shook his fist at her. ‘Go, then, if you must. I give you a week. In fact, I guarantee that you’ll be back home in a few days, realizing just how foolish you have been. And also appreciating just how lucky you are.’
Grace inclined her head. ‘We shall see, William. We shall see. Now, if you will excuse me, I have some packing to do.’
‘Oh madam, are you sure?’ Sarah said, with tears in her eyes when Grace asked for her help to sort through her clothes.
‘I am, Sarah. This is something I have to do – something I want to do.’
‘Then I’m coming with you.’
‘Oh but – I don’t want anyone to know who I am. I mean—’
‘Then I’ll come as your friend. There’s going to be nothing here for me, if you go, madam. Please . . .’
‘Well, all right, but if the matron can’t take you . . .’
‘She will. They’re always on the look-out for good workers, I bet. Now, let’s sort out your plainest clothes . . .’
Despite the gravity of Grace’s decision and the work they would face, the two women had great fun sorting out the clothes they would take.
‘Oh, I can’t take that, Sarah, it’s far too fancy. Where’s that old grey morning dress that I was going to throw out? Has it gone already?’
‘No, madam. It’s with a pile of other clothes that the servants have discarded since you bought them all new outfits last May Day.’
‘Perfect! Let’s have a look at their clothes too . . .’
By the time they had finished, they were both kitted out in the servants’ cast-offs and one or two of Grace’s plainer dresses.
Sarah giggled. ‘Even they’re a bit grand, madam. You’ll have to say that your former mistress gave them to you.’
‘How are we going to get there?’ Grace pondered. ‘We can’t be seen arriving in a carriage.’
‘We could get Monty to take us to a short distance from the hospital, madam, and walk the rest of the way.’
But Grace was shaking her head. ‘I don’t want Monty – or anyone else – to know where we’re going. We need to take the carrier’s cart into Lincoln but your idea about getting off a distance from the hospital is a good one. But there’s one other thing, Sarah. You must stop calling me “madam”.’
‘Oh dear,’ Sarah said with a comical expression. ‘Now that is going to be difficult.’
Twenty-Four
They arrived at the hospital in the late afternoon. After being greeted by the matron, who was very happy to receive Sarah as a new recruit too, they found their way to the dining hall just as the evening meal was being served. Grace searched for sight of Rosie; she had to speak to her and explain what was happening.
‘No one must know where she is,’ Grace had impressed upon Sarah. ‘We must act as if we don’t know her. We must keep her secret, just as I hope she will keep ours.’
Grace spotted Rosie and Anna as they took their place at a table. Touching Sarah’s arm and nodding towards the two girls, Grace weaved her way through the dining room until she was standing near Rosie. The girl looked up and, startled, opened her mouth to speak, but swiftly Grace put her finger to her lips. Aloud, she said, ‘May we join you? We’re new here and don’t know what we’re supposed to do. My name’s Grace and this is Sarah.’
‘Oh – er – yes. I’m – I’m Rosie and this is my friend, Anna. Please do sit down. I’ll – er – get you something to eat.’
‘That’s kind of you, Rosie. Thank you.’
Grace and Sarah sat on the opposite side of the table to Anna while Rosie fetched two plates of hot food.
‘We’ve volunteered to work as ward orderlies,’ Grace told the two girls as they all ate together. Sarah kept quiet. She was so afraid that she would say the wrong thing, so she just smiled and nodded.
‘We were cleaners to start with, but now Matron has let us start working as assistants to the nurses,’ Anna said. ‘We’re not fully trained, of course, though we’ve had a bit of first-aid instruction. It’s heartbreaking to see all the soldiers’ terrible injuries, but we do feel we’re helping.’
‘We’ll show you the ropes,’ Rosie said. ‘It’s hard work but the patients are lovely and the nurses will be so glad of your help.’
‘You’ll see some very upsetting sights,’ Anna warned, ‘even as ward orderlies.’
Grace’s face sobered. ‘Yes, I think we’re prepared for that. We just want to help in any way we can.’
‘Have you got a relative or someone out there?’ Anna asked innocently.
Grace heard Rosie breathe in sharply, but she had prepared her answer to such a question. ‘Yes, I have. That’s why I’ve volunteered, I suppose, though I’m praying I don’t see him brought in here.’
‘Oh, so who—?’ Anna began, but Rosie dropped her fork on the floor with a clatter.
‘Oh sorry, Anna, it’s gone under your chair. Can you . . .?’
Anna bent down and retrieved the fork. As she sat up again, Rosie said, ‘Oh thanks. Clumsy me.’ Then, turning back to Grace and Sarah and deliberately changing the subject, she said, ‘Have you been allocated a room yet? We’ll help you settle in and then, tomorrow morning, we’ll find out where you’re working and take you there.’
‘You’re very kind.’ Grace was tempted to ask more questions, but in so doing she might invite further probing from Rosie’s friend.
‘Well, well, well, Nell Tranter, you’re a fast worker and no mistake. You’ve kept that quiet. Even I didn’t know about it until I saw him in your garden yesterday.’ Nell’s neighbour sounded quite upset that a juicy bit of gossip had escaped her notice. ‘Your Nathan gone to war and Sam run off to God knows where and you move another feller in. Have you no shame?’
‘Not a lot and not that it’s any of your business, Ivy Bates.’ Nell paused on her way to the village shop to face the woman who stood with her plump arms folded across her ample bosom.
The two women grinned at each other. They’d been friends since girlhood and neighbours since they’d both married. Their husbands had worked side by side on the estate until Jim Tranter’s sad accident. And then only a short time after that, Ivy’s husband had died of tuberculosis.
‘You’re a good sort, Nell.’ Ivy nodded and her three chins wobbled in unison. ‘Goodness knows where poor old Amos would have ended up.’
‘The workhouse,’ Nell said bluntly. ‘And I know that for a fact, ’cos I asked him where he was going and that’s what he said.’
Ivy frowned. ‘He’s a mean old bastard is William Ramsey. Not to look after them that’s worked years for him. He could at least have offered Sam and Rosie’s cottage to Amos now it’s standing empty. But have you heard the latest? Mrs Ramsey’s up and left him.’
Nell gaped at her. ‘Never. Where’s she gone?’
Ivy shrugged. ‘Nobody knows. And her lady’s maid – Sarah, is it? – she’s gone with her.’
‘Ah, that explains that bit of a mystery, then.’
‘What?’
‘Why Sarah didn’t bring me any washing yesterday.’ She sighed. ‘’Spect I’ve mebbe lost that bit of income, then.’
Ivy sniffed. ‘Well, you’ll have Amos’s board and lodging instead, won’t you?’
Nell laughed loudly, the sound carrying on the breeze. ‘Oh, I ain’t charging him owt, Ivy. He’s going to keep me garden nice and do a few jobs about the place for me. You know.’
Now Ivy laughed raucously too. ‘Oh, I know all right, Nell Tranter. I know. Keeping ya bed warm an’ all, is he?’
Nell winked saucily. ‘That’s for me to know and you to find out, Ivy Bates. Now, I must get on. Can’t stand here gossiping all day with the likes of you.’
The two women laughed together again but just as Nell turned away, Ivy said softly, ‘Have you heard from Nathan?’
Nell stopped and was very still for a moment before saying, ‘No, I haven’t. What about your Dan?’
‘No, me neither. I’ll tan his hide for him when he gets home for not writing. That I will.’
Nell nodded and moved on, the merry banter between them dying in seconds.
Much to Nell’s relief, Elsie, the kitchen maid from the manor, appeared at her back door the following morning with a huge bundle of washing.
‘Sorry this is a day late, Mrs, but we’re all at sixes and sevens at the manor. The mistress had gone away suddenly and taken Sarah with her and we’ve no idea when she’ll be back, but she instructed Mrs Frost that everything should carry on as normal.’
‘That’s all you can do, love,’ Nell said. ‘Come away in and I’ll make you a hot drink like I always did for Sarah.’
‘Ooh ta. That’d be ever so nice. This lot’s right heavy.’
‘Mebbe she’s gone to see her grandson down in Stamford, has she?’ Nell said conversationally.
Elsie shook her head. ‘We don’t think so. She’s not taken any of her best clothes.’ She leaned closer to Nell, even though there was no one else to hear; Amos was already at work in the back garden. ‘We reckon the master knows, but he’s saying nowt.’
As they sat together, the young maid with the older woman, Nell asked. ‘Anyone else left from the manor? To go to war, I mean?’
‘Mr Brown is too old and Monty is too young, but one of the housemaids has gone to work in a factory somewhere making shells, I heard. The pay’s much better than we get, but then you have to find yarsen somewhere to live, don’t you? I won’t be going. The staff at the manor are me family, see? I ain’t got no one else except—’ She paused a moment and blushed slightly.
‘Go on, love. Your secrets are safe with me.’
‘Well, there’s this lad in the village. We aren’t really allowed followers, y’know, but me and him meet up on me days off. It’s quite harmless. I’m a good girl, Mrs Tranter. I won’t be getting mesen into trouble. We’re both only fifteen, so he won’t be going to war yet and I’m hoping he never does.’
‘Does he work on the estate?’
‘For one of the master’s tenant farmers. He lives next door to you. It’s Joey Bates.’
‘Ah, yes, Ivy’s youngest. He’s unlikely to be called up because of his age and as he’s a farm worker too, but then’ – she sighed heavily – ‘some of ’em still want to volunteer.’
‘Like your Nathan and Master Byron. And Joey’s brother, Dan, has gone, hasn’t he? And I don’t reckon any of ’em had to go, did they?’
Nell shook her head, not trusting herself to speak as the anxiety that always lay deep in the pit of her stomach threatened to surface.
Elsie jumped up. ‘I’d best be getting back or Cook’ll have me guts for garters. ’Bye for now, Mrs Tranter. I’ll pick up the clean laundry on Thursday, if that’ll be all right.’
Nell levered herself out of her chair. ‘That’ll be fine, lass. See you then. And now I’d better get cracking.’
The work on the wards, as they had been warned, was hard and distressing. Sarah coped very well and to everyone’s surprise – including her own – so did Grace. After two months, both women had fitted in very well. Surprisingly, no one, apart from those who already knew her, had found out Grace’s true identity and by now both the lady of the manor and her lady’s maid were accepted for themselves and the work they did. Although she wasn’t as physically strong as the other women and girls, Grace made herself useful in other ways. She talked to the men, comforted them, wrote letters home for them and held the hands of the dying. The sight of the dreadful wounds, the rasping breathing and the blood didn’t faze her. She managed to bury, deep within her, the ever-present fear that, one day, she would come across Byron being admitted to the ward on a stretcher. But, as far as she knew, he was still in England. Before he had left, they had made an arrangement that he would send messages to her in his letter in some way that would be unintelligible to the censors. When she had arrived at the hospital, Grace had written to him telling him what she had done.
Send letters to me here at the hospital, but please continue to write home as if I am still there. I don’t want your father to find out where I am. He would only fetch me back . . .
In April a letter arrived telling her that they were moving somewhere else for final training; she guessed it was still somewhere in England. Hearteningly, he added: The six of us are all still together.
