The Poacher's Daughter, page 22
‘Oh, so you’ve dared to come back, have you? Well, there’s no job for you here now, but you will’ – before Cook or any of the servants realized what was happening, he stepped across the space between them and grasped Sarah’s arm – ‘tell me exactly where my wife is, because I’m sure you know.’
Sarah raised her chin. ‘I don’t work for you, sir. Not now. And I won’t tell you where she is.’
William released his grip, drew back his hand and slapped her hard on the left side of her face. There was an audible gasp from Cook and her kitchen maid. Biddy, who had taken Elsie’s place, had come from the workhouse too. Although she’d been used to blows, she hadn’t expected to witness such treatment in a grand house like Thornsby Manor.
Now the butler stepped forward. ‘There’s no need for that, sir,’ Baines said, placing himself between the master and Sarah. ‘The mistress wouldn’t tolerate it.’
‘The mistress,’ William said through gritted teeth, ‘isn’t here or is she so useless at running the household that none of you have noticed her absence?’
‘Far from it, Mr Ramsey. We all miss madam and wish she would come home.’
‘Do you know where she is, Baines, because if you do . . .?’
‘No, sir, I don’t know.’ He did not add: ‘And if I did, I wouldn’t tell you.’
William turned back to glare at Sarah. Her face was reddening and there were his finger marks imprinted on her cheek. ‘Well, you can tell your mistress,’ he spat, ‘that her son is home, injured in the war, and that her duty is here with him. And you can also tell her that I shall be demanding that Pearl brings Albert back here where he belongs.’
William turned and left the room, slamming the door behind him.
Cook hurried to Sarah with a flannel soaked in cold water. ‘Here, lass, put this on your poor face. He’s always been a nasty man, but it’s the first time he’s struck one of us.’
‘Not exactly,’ Baines put in. ‘He’s taken his temper out on young Monty once or twice when his horse wasn’t ready the minute he wanted it. And Lucas Brown takes lessons from the master. Poor Monty often feels the back of the groom’s hand. I know that for a fact.’
‘I never knew any of that,’ Cook said, pursing her lips. ‘I’d have put a stop to that, if I had.’
Baines laughed wryly. ‘Oh yes, Cook, and how would you have stopped it, eh?’
‘Told madam. She’d never have let any of us be mistreated. Just because he was a lad from the workhouse, the master thinks he can treat him anyhow. But he’s never laid a finger on us women before and I’m not going to stand by and see it happen now. If you are with madam, Sarah, you tell her what’s happening here. And as for Mr Brown – well, I will have words with him.’
‘Is it true? Is Byron back home?’ Sarah asked.
The cook and Mr Baines exchanged a glance. It was Cook who answered her. ‘Yes, he is.’
‘Is he – is he hurt?’
‘Not physically – but he just stays in his room all day.’
‘He sits staring out of the window and won’t talk at all.’
‘He’s not as bad as poor Dan Bates, but the local doctor thinks it’s something similar, caused by being in the trenches.’
‘But – but’ – Sarah glanced wildly from one to the other – ‘the army doesn’t recognize it as an illness. The doctor at the Lincoln hospital had an awful job to persuade the army not to put poor Dan up against a wall and shoot him for cowardice.’
‘Oh, so that’s where you are, is it?’ Mr Baines said softly. ‘In the Lincoln hospital?’
Sarah’s eyes widened and she clapped her hand over her mouth when she realized what she had done.
The butler smiled gently and put his hand on her shoulder. ‘Don’t worry, we won’t give you away, but I think that once you tell the mistress about Byron, she’ll come home anyway.’
‘Yes,’ Sarah nodded grimly, ‘she will.’
‘But you must tell her that he’ll have to go back to the war. Even his father is saying that he must. He doesn’t want any son of his shot as a coward, he says.’
‘By heck, he’s changed his tune, hasn’t he? It’s all about him and what he wants, isn’t it?’
‘It always has been, Sarah, and I suspect it always will be.’
‘Well, I don’t suppose I can ask Monty to take me and Mrs Tranter back to Lincoln in the carriage this time. Master’ll have his beady eye on the lad. I don’t want to cause him any more trouble.’
‘You can catch the carrier’s cart. He might not take you all the way, but he goes in that direction on a Wednesday.’
‘That’s a good idea, Cook. Thanks. And now I’d best get to Mrs Tranter’s and give her the news. Oh, I hate being the bearer of bad tidings, but there’s nowt else for it. She’s got to be told. And then, when I get back, I’ll have to tell Grace.’
‘Grace!’ Both Mr Baines and Cook spoke at once. ‘You call her Grace?’
Despite all the worries and responsibilities she had on her shoulders at that moment, Sarah smiled. ‘It’s what she wanted. She wanted to fit in with everyone there and she has. She’s just one of us now.’
‘And who is “one of us” exactly?’
‘She started as a ward orderly but she’s an assistant to the nurses now.’
Scandalized, the cook repeated the words, adding, ‘I thought at least she’d be a proper nurse.’
‘She hasn’t any training. Neither have I, but we help the nurses so that they can concentrate on doing what they do best – caring for the patients.’
‘And where does she sleep? Is she staying in a hotel?’
Now Sarah laughed out loud. ‘Oh no. She sleeps with the rest of us.’
Now, both Cook and Mr Baines were speechless, their mouths dropping open.
‘She’s a lovely woman,’ Sarah said gently. ‘None of you got to know her like I did. She’s far too good for the likes of him.’ She jerked her thumb towards the door through which William had departed. ‘Anyway, now I’d best get to Mrs Tranter’s. I know she’ll let me stay with her.’ She glanced round. ‘Goodbye, all of you. I don’t know if I’ll be seeing you again.’
‘Good luck, Sarah. And give our best to Mrs Tranter too. We hope Nathan will be all right. And, of course, don’t forget to tell the mistress about Master Byron.’
‘Oh, you can be sure I won’t forget that.’
Twenty-Eight
‘Nathan,’ Rosie whispered, sitting down beside his bed and taking his hand. ‘Sarah’s gone to fetch your mam. She’ll be here soon. Do wake up.’
But there was no response from the sleeping man. The ward sister stood beside her, looking down at him. ‘Dr Oldfield has examined him thoroughly and can’t find any reason why he should not be awake. Yes, he has a nasty injury on his leg that’s infected, but he thinks we’ve caught it early enough for it to be treated. He’s no other visible injury. He’s a puzzle. The doctor thinks someone sitting with him and talking to him might help. I can give you an extra hour off, Skelton, if you want to do that.’
‘Of course. Thank you. And I’ll come back in my off-duty time, if you’ll allow it.’
‘Of course.’ The sister smiled. ‘It’s doctor’s orders and when his mother arrives, she’s to be given extra time with him too.’
Little by little, the gossip had permeated among all the staff. They now knew where Rosie, Grace, Sarah and Elsie came from and exactly who Grace was, but by this time she was well liked and respected for being herself and not because of who she was. As for Rosie, they’d realized that the older soldier who had died had been her father. What they had not yet learned was exactly who he had been and about the terrible shooting accident, because Rosie still went under the surname of Skelton.
‘Nathan, dearest Nathan. Please wake up and talk to me. Sarah has gone to fetch your mother. Please wake up so you can talk to her.’
Dr Oldfield appeared at her side. ‘That’s very good. Keep talking to him. Talk about the past. What you used to do together as children. That sort of thing. Keep up the good work.’
‘Do you remember, Nathan, when we were at school together? Do you remember little Elsie Warren? She’s working here too. And now you’ll never guess this – Mrs Ramsey’s working here as well. We began as cleaners, or ward orderlies, but now we’re all assistant nurses. You won’t believe it, but she’s fitted in with everyone and she insists we all call her Grace when we’re off duty. What do you think of that?’ On and on Rosie chattered until she almost ran out of things to talk about. The following morning – the day on which she hoped Nell would arrive – she sat down beside him once more. The nurses had finished changing his bandages and she and Grace had remade his bed, rolling him gently from side to side to change the sheet.
‘Now, what shall we talk about today?’ she began, but a sound from the bed interrupted her.
‘Byron,’ he whispered huskily. ‘What’s – happened – to Byron?’
‘Oh Nathan – you’re awake.’ She squeezed his hand. ‘Let me fetch Sister . . .
Sarah stayed one night with Nell and then the next day they set off together for the tortuous journey to Lincoln, arriving mid-afternoon.
When Sarah had left the hospital, Nathan had still been sleeping, but when his mother hurried into the ward, he was sitting up and watching the door for her arrival.
‘I’ll leave you with him, Mrs Tranter,’ Sarah said. ‘I must find Grace.’
‘Oh son—’ Nell sat beside him, her voice full of tears.
‘Now, don’t fuss, Mam. I’m fine. Just a bit of a scratch on me leg. I’ll soon be as right as ninepence.’
Nell, who had been determined not to cry when she saw him, couldn’t stop a tear of thankfulness from trickling down her cheek. Her boy was alive and she’d move heaven and earth to keep him with her now he was home. But she was sensible enough to know that the ‘last word’ did not lie with her.
‘You’ve Rosie to thank for this,’ he said, smiling weakly.
Nell gaped at him. ‘For – for what?’
‘The fact that I’m sitting up and talking to you. Evidently, she’s been sitting here beside me, hour after hour, talking to me and bringing me back into the land of the living. From what they’re saying, I was out of it for quite a time. Now, tell me all the news, but first I want to know if you’ve heard anything about Byron. We’ve been lucky to be able to stick together, you know. Right from when we volunteered. We fought side by side and it was him who carried me from no-man’s-land back to our trenches when I got wounded. But for him, Mam, I wouldn’t be here.’
‘We’ve heard he’s at home. He’s not physically injured but’ – she touched her head – ‘he’s damaged in here. A bit like Dan Bates, but not so serious.’
‘Dan? What’s happened to Dan? The six of us who went together stayed together as much as we could, but Dan and Ray got sent up the line somewhere and we got separated.’
‘Oh dear. Didn’t you know? The poor lad’s in a terrible way.’ She went on to tell Nathan all about his friend.
‘This is a dreadful war, Mam. It should never have been allowed to happen. I hope it’ll be the last one we ever have like this.’
‘It’s being called “the war to end all wars”,’ Nell said. ‘Some writer put something like it in one of his newspaper columns. Anyway, Sarah’s gone to find Grace to tell her about Master Byron. She’ll go home at once, I’m sure.’
‘Grace? Oh yes, now I remember, Rosie said something about that when I was half asleep. Fancy, who’d have thought it. Her working among the riff-raff. I bet her old man doesn’t like it.’
Now that she had seen for herself that her son wasn’t as bad as she had feared, Nell was able to smile. ‘No, he doesn’t. Sarah told me he’s spitting feathers.’ She sighed. ‘Poor Grace. She’ll have a hard time of it with him when she does get home. Now, Nathan, tell me honestly, how do you really feel?’
‘Rosie – where’s Grace?’ Sarah asked. ‘Have you seen her?’
‘Ward Two. She’s helping one of the nurses with a patient.’
Sarah hurried away to find her. She paused in the doorway to catch her breath. Grace was bending over a patient, smoothing his pillows, smiling down at him. Sarah took a deep breath, reluctant to break the moment, and yet . . .
‘Grace,’ she said softly, approaching her. ‘Could I have a word?’
‘Sarah! You’re back. Did you bring Mrs Tranter? I heard that Rosie has done wonders. Nathan is awake and talking normally. Isn’t that wonderful?’ She came to Sarah. ‘But you still look anxious. What is it? Have you hurt your face? It looks as if you’ve got a bruise on your cheek.’
‘Never mind about that, but I have something to tell you. Byron’s home.’
Grace’s face lit up. ‘Oh, how wonderful. Is he on leave? How long has he got?’
Sarah took both Grace’s hands into hers. ‘Grace – listen. He’s not physically injured, but his mind is affected.’
Grace’s smile died instantly. ‘Oh no!’ she breathed. ‘Not – not like poor Dan?’
‘Something similar, but not nearly as bad. He just sits in his room staring out of the window. He won’t talk to anyone. He’s hardly eating or drinking. And – and . . .’
‘And what, Sarah? Tell me quickly.’
‘Dr Wren says he can’t make a case for him being invalided out of the army. If they come to – to arrest him . . .’
‘They’ll judge it to be cowardice,’ Grace finished her sentence for her.
‘And – I’m sorry to tell you this – but your husband wants him to go back to the war. He – he says he doesn’t want a son of his to be branded a coward.’
‘Of course he doesn’t,’ Grace said, her tone heavy with sarcasm. She sighed. ‘I must go home at once. And, very sadly, I don’t think I shall be coming back. I must see Connie – Matron – and explain what has happened, but first there is someone else I must see.’
She found Rosie taking a well-earned break and having a cup of tea. She sat down beside her as Rosie smiled and began to pour a cup of tea for her.
‘Rosie – Sarah has returned with Mrs Tranter but while she was home, she found out that Byron has returned to the manor.’ She hurried on to explain all that she knew and ended, ‘I have to go home.’
Rosie’s face was bleak and if Grace had ever been in any doubt about the girl’s feelings for Byron, there was no uncertainty now. Rosie was in love with Byron.
‘How I wish I could see him,’ the girl whispered, her words ending in a tearful hiccup.
Grace touched her hand and said gently, ‘It’s not possible, my dear. My husband would have you arrested.’
Rosie nodded, trying to stem her tears, but failing.
‘But I will tell Byron about you, I promise, and I will write and let you know how he is.’
‘Oh will you? Will you really? That would be so good of you.’
Grace nodded, unable to speak for the lump in her own throat. It was all she could promise Rosie. But as she left the hospital, Grace made another promise to herself; she would join forces with William to ensure that Pearl brought Bertie back to the manor. She was sure that the little boy’s presence would help Byron.
‘Ah, so you have condescended to come home where you belong, have you? You’ve been away for over eighteen months. Is that any way for a dutiful wife to behave? I could divorce you for desertion. Where have you been all this time? I demand that you tell me.’
William was playing games with her. He’d known all along exactly where his wife was; he’d made it his business to find out shortly after she’d left. He’d hoped she would come home when she found the work too onerous and realized how foolish she’d been in leaving her comfortable lifestyle. But in this he’d been thwarted; she’d only come back because her son needed her. William’s pride, however, would never let him admit this so he decided to keep up the pretence.
‘Divorce me if you wish, William, but I doubt you will. You wouldn’t want the scandal, now, would you?’ Grace said as she stepped into the hallway and peeled off her gloves. ‘I have merely been doing what my conscience told me to do. To help out with the war effort.’
‘Well, you’re needed here now to get that coward of a son of yours to return to his duty. If he doesn’t go soon, we can expect a visit from the military police, I shouldn’t wonder.’
‘Is he not on sick leave?’
‘Pah! Sick leave, my foot. It’s all in his mind.’
‘Exactly, William. You can be sick in your mind just as much as you can have a wound in your leg. And now, if you will excuse me, I’ll go and see Byron.’
As she mounted the stairs, William called after her. ‘And none of your namby-pamby words. Get him back into uniform and returning to his regiment. The doctor has given him two weeks. After that – God knows what will happen. I have sent for Pearl and my grandson. They should be here. I have demanded that they come home.’
Grace carried on climbing the stairs and headed towards Byron’s bedroom.
Baines, who had been hovering in the hall when Grace had arrived home, told the rest of the staff when he returned to the kitchen, ‘She’s back. At least for now because she won’t tell the master where she’s been. Cook, get a tray ready for her and I’ll take it up to Byron’s room. Make up a tray for him too. Maybe she’ll get him to eat something.’ There was a flurry of activity as they all scurried to care for the woman they all loved and had missed so much.
Upstairs, Grace opened the door quietly and crossed the room to where her son was sitting in a chair facing the window. His eyes were vacant, staring at the view yet not really seeing it. He was witnessing the horrific pictures being played over and over again in his mind’s eye. Grace took hold of his cold hand.
‘Byron, my dear,’ she said softly. ‘I’m home now. We’ll soon get you well again.’
He stirred and shifted in his seat. His mouth worked as if he was trying to say something.
