The Poacher's Daughter, page 20
‘But – but . . .’
‘There’re no “buts”, lass. It’s done and can’t be undone. He’s taken the King’s shilling and there’s no going back.’ Ivy wiped her tears away and took a deep, steadying breath. ‘We’ve just got to get on with it, Elsie lass, but you can come and talk to me any time you want. I’ve taken a liking to you and my Joey could do a lot worse for himself. So, we’ll help each other through this and pray for his safe return. Me and Nell have been doing that ever since both our lads went. And now she’s got old Amos living with her, he’s a big help, an’ all. He’s started doing a few little jobs for me too, so I reckon he’ll be on hand when Joey goes.’
Elsie’s mouth was a thin, tight line. ‘You’re right. I know you are, but Joey’d better watch out when I catch up with him. I’ll give him what for.’
Even through her sadness, Ivy couldn’t help smiling. ‘I wouldn’t be in his shoes when you do.’
The big row between Elsie and Joey took place that evening on the village green, observed by all the villagers within earshot.
‘How could you do it, Joey? How could you do it to your mam? Even if you didn’t think about me, what about her? She’s got poor Dan like he is and the same thing could happen to you – or worse. What if you don’t come back at all? Have you actually thought about it from anybody’s else’s point of view except your own selfish need to be a hero?’
‘I can’t sit by and see what they’ve done to our Dan,’ Joey shot back, ‘without wanting to take revenge.’
‘And that’ll be your “revenge”, will it? To get yourself maimed or killed? Fat lot of good that’ll do your Dan – or your mam. You’d’ve done better to stay here and help look after him. And how’s he going to feel when he finds out you’ve only gone because of him?’
‘He won’t understand,’ Joey muttered.
‘I reckon he understands a lot more than you think he does. He can’t talk at the moment, but if you look into his eyes, you can see he knows what’s going on.’
Joey stared at her. ‘D’you really think so?’
‘I’m sure of it.’
‘And – and do you think he can keep getting better?’
‘Yes, I do,’ Elsie said firmly as if, by the strength of her will, she could make it so.
Their quarrel had subsided now and Elsie’s anger fell away from her, leaving her deeply saddened. She stepped closer to him and looked up into his face. ‘Joey Bates, God help me, but I love you. I will always love you, but you can be stupid at times. And this is the stupidest thing you’ve ever done. But, like your mam says, it’s done now. An’ I’ll tell you summat else. I’m going to volunteer.’
‘Wha—?’
‘Oh, not to fight. I’m not that daft, even if women could. But your mam’s been telling me about the hospital your Dan was in. It sounds as if they could do with all the help they can get. So, on me next day off, I’ll be going into Lincoln to see if they want another pair of willing hands.’
Twenty-Six
‘Nell! Nell!’
‘Oh Ivy, whatever’s the matter? Is it Dan?’
‘No, no, it’s Elsie.’
‘What’s happened?’
Ivy flopped down at the kitchen table, her hand to her chest, breathing heavily. ‘She’s going to volunteer to work at the Lincoln hospital. Oh Nell, I’m sorry. Me an’ my big mouth. I was telling her all about it and how kind they all were to Dan and how Mrs Ramsey was working there . . . Oh I shouldn’t have. If he finds out, he’ll fetch her back, won’t he?’
Nell was thoughtful. It wasn’t Grace Ramsey she was worried about; it was Rosie. ‘Don’t worry, love,’ she said, putting her hand on Ivy’s shoulder. ‘I’ll have a chat with Elsie when she collects the washing.’
When the girl came back the following day to collect the laundry, Nell sat her down at the kitchen table, poured her a cup of tea – the occasion warranted a special treat for both of them – and said, ‘Now, Elsie, love, you’re a sensible girl and—’
‘Don’t try to stop me going, Mrs Tranter, because—’
‘I wouldn’t dream of it, Elsie. I think it’s a grand idea. But there’s just something you ought to know before you go.’ Nell gazed at the girl, trying to decide if she could be trusted. She sighed. Really, she had no alternative. ‘Elsie, I need to be able to trust you. Can I do that?’
‘Of course, Mrs Tranter. I know how to keep me mouth shut when it matters.’
‘Well, this really does. It’s about someone who already works at the hospital.’
‘Oh Mrs Ramsey. Yes, I know about that. Mrs Bates told me, but I haven’t said a word back at the manor. I would never let madam down. I really like her. All the staff do. We miss her.’
‘It’s not about her. There’s someone else there too and we must all keep her secret, because if the master found out where she is—’
For a moment Elsie looked puzzled and then she whispered, ‘Rosie? You’re talking about Rosie Waterhouse, aren’t you?’
Nell nodded.
‘I won’t say a word to a soul. I never thought she was involved with that awful business anyway. Her dad, yes, I think he might have done it, but not Rosie.’
‘You mustn’t tell Mrs Bates – she doesn’t know – or even Joey.’
‘No, I won’t. I promise. I always liked Rosie. We were at school together. I’m glad she’s all right. And you’re right. Word’s filtered down to the kitchen that he’s still trying to get her arrested. Mr Baines was saying that when PC Foster visited the master a while back, he listened at the keyhole.’ She giggled. ‘Who’d have thought it, eh? Mr Baines listening at keyholes? Anyway, the master wasn’t trying to keep his voice down and he was telling the policeman that he wanted inquiries made about Sam Waterhouse and about Rosie too. I’m glad she’s safe.’
‘But to keep her safe, no one around here must know where she is.’
Elsie nodded solemnly. ‘You have my word, Mrs Tranter.’
Nell smiled and touched the girl’s cheek. ‘Good lass, and I wish you well. It’ll be nice for you to have both Mrs Ramsey and Rosie there if they take you on.’
Elsie decided not to go to Lincoln until after Christmas. The staff at the manor was already depleted and even though neither Mrs Ramsey nor Master Byron were at home, William still demanded that the usual customs be followed. The second Christmas of the war was, however, very different. There was the constant worry over their loved ones as three more young men from the village, including Joey Bates, had volunteered. The optimism, still present that first Christmas, had evaporated as the casualty lists had grown longer with each passing month. The sight of poor Dan had devastated the whole community and doubled their fear over those who were still in the thick of the fighting.
As he had agreed with Nell, Amos went out poaching whenever he thought the new keeper would not be out and about. While work on the land was a little more plentiful through the winter for the men who were left in the village, there were still widows and poor families to be fed and Sam and Rosie were no longer there to help out. Although he had developed an understanding with Ralph Carter, Amos didn’t want to get the young feller dismissed. He felt no animosity towards his replacement. The older man was, in fact, enjoying his ‘retirement’. He had settled in very well with Nell. He enjoyed her company and, best of all, he was no longer answerable to the master. He realized that should he be caught poaching, the punishment would be harsh, but Amos had an advantage because of his years of experience as a keeper and he soon became an even better poacher than Sam had been. If the villagers guessed what might be happening when Nell brought them food during the winter months, they were wise enough not to ask questions as to how quite so many rabbits, hares and even game birds were trespassing into her garden. Nor did they discuss it in the pub. Lucas Brown still sat in his lonely corner watching and listening.
Just before Christmas, when harsh winter weather seriously affected many of the men, it was decided that the British troops should withdraw from the Gallipoli campaign.
‘All those young lives wasted and for what?’ The men, poring over the newspapers in Ted’s pub, were angry and disillusioned.
‘We mustn’t lose hope,’ Ted’s calm voice encouraged. ‘We have to go on. We have to win in the end, else it’ll all have been in vain.’
At the hospital, Grace received a letter from Byron telling her that they were ‘on the move’, but he couldn’t as yet give her any hint as to where they were heading. We’ve been lucky so far. Only poor Dan out of our number has been a casualty.
When she wrote back, she told him briefly that Dan was improving slowly and was back home with his mother. She did not, however, tell him that, as a consequence, young Joey had enlisted.
On 2 January 1916, Elsie bade her farewells to her colleagues at the manor.
‘Now, if things don’t work out,’ Cook told the girl, ‘Mrs Frost says you can come back. She’s not going to tell the master that you’ve left yet, so he won’t know for a while. Lucy’s volunteered to take the washing to Mrs Tranter each week, so if you have any messages you want to reach us, you can write to her and she’ll pass them to Lucy, I don’t doubt. Now, take care of yourself, lass.’
The matron was delighted to receive another strong and willing country girl. ‘We’re getting busier and busier. We’re getting more and more casualties every day. They’re still arriving here as a consequence of the Gallipoli campaign and, of course, from other areas too. I’ll start you on the cleaning and then, if you’re suitable, you might progress to becoming a ward orderly.’
‘Thank you, Matron,’ Elsie said politely. ‘I’ll work hard at whatever job you give me.’
‘Do you know anyone already here?’
Elsie licked her lips not wanting to risk saying anything she shouldn’t. ‘I’m not sure, but I make friends easily.’
Connie Archer stood up. ‘I’ll take you to meet Rosie Skelton. She and her friend, Anna, will look after you. They both started as ward cleaners and progressed very quickly to becoming assistants to the nurses. They’re both very able.’ She sighed. ‘It’s a shame we haven’t time to train them up properly as nurses. They’d both make excellent ones.’ She smiled at the willing girl. ‘Maybe you will follow in their footsteps in time.’
The matron took Elsie into the ward where Rosie was working.
‘Skelton,’ Connie Archer said as she approached the bed where Rosie was bending over a patient. ‘We have a new recruit. I would like you to take her under your wing . . .’
As Rosie turned, her eyes widened and a look of fear crossed her face. Elsie moved forward swiftly. ‘Hello, my name’s Elsie Warren. I’m very pleased to meet you.’
Rosie blinked as Elsie chattered on. ‘I used to work in a big house in the country as a kitchen maid, so I’m used to hard work. You just tell me what to do and I’ll do my very best.’
‘I’ll leave you with Skelton, then,’ Matron said. ‘Can you sort out accommodation for her?’ she asked Rosie.
Rosie cleared her throat and tried to calm her nerves. ‘Of course, Matron, and we’ll show her around and help her settle in.’
As the matron moved away, Elsie whispered, ‘Mrs Tranter told me you were here and swore me to secrecy. I’ve told no one, Rosie, not even Mrs Bates.’ She frowned. ‘But I thought Mrs Ramsey was here. Hasn’t she said anything to her husband about you?’
Rosie, fully recovered now from the shock of seeing Elsie, giggled. ‘No, she’s been brilliant.’ As they walked together out of the ward, Rosie explained all that had happened, ending, ‘I think she wanted to get away from home and feel that she was helping soldiers like her own son.’
Elsie sighed. ‘It’s the same for me in a way. You know what happened to Dan Bates, don’t you?’
‘Yes, I helped to nurse him but every time his mother visited, I made myself scarce.’
‘You did right. His mam’s a lovely woman, but couldn’t keep a secret to save her life.’ Then her face fell. ‘But when Dan came home, my Joey took one look at him and went off there and then to volunteer.’
Rosie stopped walking and stared at her. ‘But he’s not old enough.’
Elsie shrugged. ‘It seems they didn’t even ask him. He’s a big lad, as you know, and I expect they’re taking anyone they can get now, whatever their age.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that, Elsie, but in a way I’m glad it’s brought you here.’ She laughed. ‘And you’ll never guess what? Although we all have to call each other by our surnames when we’re on duty, Mrs Ramsey has told us to call her “Grace” when we’re off duty.’ She laughed again at the amazement on Elsie’s face.
‘Oh heck!’ the young girl said. ‘I don’t reckon I’ll ever manage that.’
‘Rosie, there’s a badly wounded soldier shouting out your name. I don’t know if he means you or just someone he knows. He’s probably delirious,’ Anna said, only a week after Elsie’s arrival at the hospital. ‘He’s just been brought in. Half his face is bandaged and I think he’s lost a leg.’
‘But no one—’ Rosie began and then stopped. She felt as if her heart had stopped beating and then begun to thunder. ‘Oh no,’ she whispered. ‘No. Not Byron!’
She hurried to the admissions ward. She had worked there previously but now she’d been moved to help the surgeons and nurses in the operating theatre. She stood in the doorway, her frightened glance searching . . . This was a bad intake. The sound of men groaning, crying and gasping for air made her shudder. Don’t let him be here, she prayed silently. Don’t let Byron be one of these poor men.
‘Skelton! Over here. Give me a hand.’ It was one of the nurses, but not one Rosie knew, struggling to take a filthy bandage off a soldier’s leg; he was fighting her, his arms flailing, his head thrashing from side to side.
‘We’ve got to get this wound cleaned up else he’ll get sepsis.’
Rosie hurried to help her and breathed a small sigh of thankfulness when she didn’t recognize the casualty. But there were still several others . . .
‘Hold him down. You might have to lie across his chest. He’s not wounded there. It’s just his leg.’
Using all her strength – she was surprised how much fight the man still had – Rosie put his arms down by his side and then lay across him, while the nurse removed the blood-soaked bandage. The soldier yelled and then was suddenly silent.
‘He’s passed out. You can get up, Rosie. I think I can manage as long as he’s out of it.’
‘I’ll come back if you need me. I’ll be here for a few minutes. I’m looking for someone. Anna said someone’s asking for me.’
‘It’s the feller in the corner over there. I warn you, he’s in a bad way. Not expected to make it.’
Rosie’s heart thumped in fear as she walked towards the soldier the nurse had pointed out. Her hands were clammy, her knees trembling. She held her breath as she drew nearer and then, as she recognized him, she was overwhelmed with a mixture of emotions; it was not Byron, but it was someone she knew, someone dear to her.
He was calling out her name and holding out his hand. She went to him and took his hand, holding it close to her chest.
‘I’m here, Dad. I’m here now.’
That evening, when she had finished her day’s work, she sat beside Sam, holding his hand.
‘Rosie, lass. I want to see Nell one last time.’
‘Please don’t talk like that, you’re—’
‘I’m going to die. You’ve got to face it.’ Rosie listened to his laboured breathing. He was fighting to pull in every breath. She was forced to believe him. ‘And it’s better this way – to die a hero rather than dangling at the end of a hangman’s rope.’
Rosie held his hand against her cheek as tears ran down her face. She couldn’t argue with him. If he lived and William Ramsey caught up with him, he would undoubtedly be thrown into gaol, tried and hanged. Though it broke her heart, she knew he was right.
‘I’ll get her here, Dad,’ she promised in a broken voice. ‘I’ll send for Aunty Nell.’
That night, Rosie wrote to Nell, forming the wording of her letter carefully in case it should fall into the wrong hands. Letters were supposed to be private but she knew that the contents of a letter were often circulating through the village before they reached the hands of the true recipient. It had always happened and now, more than ever, people were nosy.
Dear Mrs Tranter,
It’s not Nathan – I’ll say that straight away – but please come here as soon as you possibly can.
Regards, Miss Skelton
She was fortunate that Elsie was working on a different ward and was unlikely to see Sam, but Mrs Ramsey was another matter. She was hoping that she had never seen Sam close up and would not recognize him. But Grace was a lot sharper than perhaps even Rosie gave her credit for. She noticed Rosie frequently disappearing into Ward Four, where the most seriously wounded patients were moved to after their admission. Most of them were receiving end-of-life care. There was no more that the doctors could do for them and it was up to the nurses to ease their last days.
So, Grace made it her business to find out who the patient was.
‘His name is Sam, but more than that I don’t know,’ the staff nurse in charge of the ward told her. ‘He had no identification on him by the time he reached us. We don’t even know where he came from, only that he was a Poacher.’ The word startled Grace until she realized that the staff nurse was using the nickname for a soldier in the Lincolnshire Regiment. ‘It’s surprising he’s lasted this long,’ the staff nurse went on. ‘I can only think it was sheer will power to get back home that’s kept him going. One of the assistant nurses seems to know him. At least, she’s spending a lot of her off-duty time with him and often seems tearful.’
‘Which one?’ Grace asked.
‘Skelton.’
Grace nodded thoughtfully. Now she thought she knew who the new arrival was. The next time Rosie was on duty in another ward and she was not, Grace went to the wounded soldier’s bedside. As she stood over him, he looked up at her and she saw the fear in his eyes. He recognized her and now she knew for definite exactly who he was.
