Mistress of Greyladies (16 page)

Read Mistress of Greyladies Online

Authors: Anna Jacobs

Tags: #Itzy, #kickass.to

BOOK: Mistress of Greyladies
6.14Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

How could you not feel that way, though, when the woman you loved had been attacked for a second time? He smiled wryly. If he’d been uncertain how much he loved Phoebe before, he wasn’t now. He wished he could drive through the night and take her away from Bellbourne, look after her, care for her.

If he was lucky and survived this hell of a war, he’d ask Phoebe to marry him – he smiled, fairly certain she’d say yes – then he’d care for her with every fibre of his being.

 

The following morning, he was in the office before anyone else, impatient to see David and get things moving.

When his boss did arrive, he was humming cheerfully, but stopped to ask, ‘What’s wrong? You look like a man who didn’t sleep very well.’

‘You’re right. I didn’t.’

‘Worrying about Miss Sinclair, were you?’

‘How did you know about Phoebe?’

‘I ran into Beaty yesterday evening and she told me. We’d better get your young woman out of Bellbourne, so that you can concentrate on departmental matters. There are too many doors into and out of a hospital, anyway. It’s not a good place to keep someone safe. Have you any ideas how to get her away without anyone seeing?’

‘Yes. This is what I thought we could do … I’d welcome your advice, though.’

After incorporating a couple of additional suggestions made by his boss, Corin nodded. ‘I think that’ll do it. You’re sure the matron and commandant will help me?’

‘Oh yes. I know them both. Good sorts to have helping you in an emergency.’

After they’d finished discussing the details of how to get Phoebe away, Brookes gave Corin an assessing look. ‘Your plan was impressive. The more I think about it, the more I realise you’re definitely the best person to set up the new so-called
convalescent home
at Greyladies. You can spend, say, two months doing that, then we’ll move you to another project. Though I may call you up to London now and then for help with the army wallahs. I like how you think. We need clever, devious chaps in our group.’

He brought in his adjutant, dictated a brief note and said to Corin, ‘All right. Take it from there.’

‘Don’t you have any specific things
you
want doing at Greyladies?’

‘It’s an unusual situation. No precedent. If I think of anything else apart from my basic briefing, I’ll let you know.’ He grinned. ‘Otherwise, use your initiative.’

Corin walked out feeling rather shocked. After several years in the regular army, he wasn’t used to being set free to work as he chose.

Then he thought of Phoebe and forgot his doubts. The first thing was to rescue her and get her somewhere safe, then he’d turn his attention to those enemy aliens.

He went into his office and picked up his phone …

 

Rain was falling steadily as the delivery van turned into the drive of Bellbourne.

‘Just what we need,’ the driver said with satisfaction. ‘Anyone keeping watch on this place will be soaked, cold and thinking more about staying dry than who’s going in and out.’

‘We won’t even know whether Hapton is watching the hospital, let alone from where. We passed any number of houses in the lane leading to the gates, and there are sheds, too. He could be hiding in one of those.’

As the van stopped at the rear of the hospital, he tugged at his workman’s overalls, which were a bit short for a man of his height but were the best he’d been able to find on the spur of the moment, then got out. Picking up the smallest box from the rear, he carried it towards the kitchen door. It was opened just before he got there by an orderly.

‘Special delivery.’

‘We’re not expecting anything else today.’

‘Well, they sent me down from London with this, so someone must be expecting it. It’s supposed to go straight to Major Burroughs.’

‘Well, you’ve got the name right, at least. Shall I take it up to him?’

‘No, I’ve got orders to see it into his hands. Tell him it’s from a certain gentleman of his acquaintance.’

‘Who?’

‘How the hell should I know? It’s some sort of officers’ joke.’

‘I’ll check whether he’s free. I wonder what it’s all about?’ The orderly gave him a questioning look.

‘Haven’t the faintest idea, pal. I just do my job. What do I know about medical supplies?’

The orderly shrugged and walked out.

‘Do you and the driver want a cup of tea?’ the cook called across the kitchen. ‘Nasty sort of day, isn’t it?’

‘That’d be lovely, but not till I’ve delivered this box. I’m not supposed to let it out of my hands, and there are two bigger boxes out in the van as well. The driver’s keeping an eye on those. We won’t bring them in till the major decides where he wants them.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘Such a fuss they make sometimes over medical deliveries.’

She smiled. ‘Well, we all want to save lives. I’ll keep the pot warm for you.’

He wondered what she’d say if she knew he was an officer on a rescue mission. He hoped his plan was good enough. No one except Burroughs and people he felt were safe must find out. They didn’t want word getting back to Frank about
who had turned up unexpectedly the day Phoebe dropped out of sight.

The orderly returned. ‘You’re to take the box up to him. This way.’

Corin winked at the cook and followed him out.

Not until the office door closed behind the orderly, did Major Burroughs gesture to a chair. ‘How can I help?’

‘I’m here to spirit Miss Sinclair away.’

‘Good. How are you planning to do it?’

‘We’re delivering two larger boxes containing supplies. They’re big enough for her to hide in, so we’ll just carry her out in one. Can you arrange for someone reliable to empty them? They really do contain useful supplies.’

Major Burroughs smiled. ‘The orderly in charge of the stores will be the perfect person to help hide her. I’d trust him with my life, and as he speaks mainly in grunts and doesn’t hold with what he calls “this modern gibble-gabbling about nothing”, he’ll not reveal anything about the escape. I’ll send Matron to fetch Phoebe. Matron’s a stout old bird and we can rely on her too. What about your lass’s clothes and so on?’

‘If we can’t get them packed quickly without anyone realising, she’ll have to do without.’

He grinned. ‘Matron will find a way. She doesn’t believe in waste.’

Matron came into the area where Phoebe was setting out the trays for the patients’ meals. She was followed by another VAD. ‘I need your help with something, Sinclair. Amy will take over here.’ She led the way out immediately without further explanation.

Phoebe followed her, puzzled.

Matron led the way to her office. ‘Someone’s arrived to take you away from Bellbourne. We need to pack your things immediately and sneak you out of here without anyone realising what’s going on. I’ve got you a nurse’s uniform and if you tuck your hair out of sight under the cap and keep your eyes down, no one should give you a second glance. Hurry up and change.’ She gestured to a pile of clothing and turned to look out of the window.

After one surprised glance, Phoebe put on the other clothes as ordered, then Matron bundled the discarded VAD uniform into a towel as if it was dirty washing, and handed it to her to carry.

As they set out for the stables, Matron complained loudly about not putting up with untidiness, and Phoebe hung her head as if in trouble.

Once in the dormitory, Matron stopped scolding. ‘There’s no time to waste, so pack your things into your suitcase as quickly as you can. Leave something out to change into, so that you’re no longer in uniform when you leave.’

‘How am I going to leave without anyone finding out?’

‘In a box.’

Phoebe paused, open-mouthed. ‘You mean … in a coffin?’

‘Sorry. I forgot some people call coffins that. No, this box is a big packing case. Supplies have just been delivered. They sometimes take the empty wooden boxes away again for reuse, but this time the box won’t be empty.’

‘Right.’ She began piling things into her suitcase any old how, thankful she didn’t have as many possessions as Penny and the other VADs from more wealthy backgrounds. She checked her drawers and wardrobe one last time. ‘That’s everything.’

‘Right. We’ll leave now. I’ll carry that suitcase, you carry the bundle.’

 

Frank didn’t go far. As soon as he was sure he wasn’t being pursued, he slowed down to a walk, gasping for breath. He’d never enjoyed running, which always gave him a strange feeling, as if his knees were made of lead and he couldn’t breathe properly.

He found a fallen log and sat down on it for a rest and a think. What would Phoebe do now? It seemed obvious that she’d leave the hospital and go somewhere else. Would she leave straight away? No. She’d need to find somewhere, make plans, give notice.

So he had a bit of time to catch her. He just needed somewhere to keep watch.

When he found a tumbledown barn in the field next to the end of the hospital drive, with an excellent view of the road, he punched one fist into the other and said, ‘Ha!’ in tones of satisfaction. It could have been put there just for him. There was only one way out of Bellbourne, so if she left, he’d see her passing by, or at least he’d see vehicles in which she might be hidden.

He needed food, though, and blankets, if he was going to keep watch. She might try to slip out at night. Luckily he was a light sleeper. You had to be in his job. Sometimes he had to go out at night to pick things up.

He’d keep watch for a couple of days – he didn’t think it’d take longer than that for her to leave, because he’d given her a real fright. And he’d make a list of the vehicles which came and went, in case she got away. He knew people who’d help him follow up on anything suspicious.

When he thought about it, he realised he should have planned what he was doing today better. He usually took more care, which was why he was making such good money. He hadn’t been thinking straight, because Phoebe had looked so pretty in the dappled light of the gardens, he’d simply grabbed her. He’d not make that mistake again.

He went back into Swindon to pick up some supplies, then got a lift out of the town from a fellow who owed him a favour.

He left some blankets and a bit of food at the barn and arranged to be picked up again in a couple of days, then went into the village to get himself a drink.

The pub was full up and he couldn’t even find a seat, but the beer was good. He saw one of the orderlies from the hospital, and got into conversation by the simple method of pretending to trip and spilling his beer. He insisted on buying
the fellow another pint in compensation, which put him in a good mood, because the glass had been nearly empty.

They had a nice little chat and he listened sympathetically as the orderly complained about the VADs, who were, he said, treated too well and didn’t work half as hard as the men did.

By the time Frank left, they’d arranged to meet the following evening, because Frank had said wistfully that he got a bit lonely when travelling round. He’d bought more drinks than the orderly, which no one could object to.

It was damned cold in that barn, and Frank got a lousy night’s sleep, but he didn’t care. He’d wake up if any vehicle passed by. Phoebe wouldn’t get away from him. At least the old barn was watertight, so when it began to rain, he didn’t get wet. It was damned chilly, though.

It seemed a long time till morning, but as soon as it was light, he got up and took out the paper and pencil he’d brought to note down which vehicles passed.

He’d planned everything he could think of, now he could only wait.

 

Phoebe and Matron left the hospital openly then made their way to the supplies section, following a rather circuitous route that avoided most people. ‘Go inside,’ Matron ordered. ‘I’m waiting for Scorton to arrive. I came with a nurse, and I’ll be leaving with one.’

Corin stepped out from a corner, his expression brightening at the sight of Phoebe. ‘That was quick.’

‘I know how to organise things in my own hospital.’ Matron’s expression was smug. ‘Change quickly into your own clothes, Sinclair. You can go behind the cupboard door to do it. I’m sure Major McMinty won’t peep.’

He turned round immediately, so that his back was to them, but not before Phoebe had seen him grin. She concentrated on changing her outer clothes as quickly as possible, then handed the nurse’s uniform to Matron, who bundled it up in the towel.

‘Good luck, Sinclair. I’ll leave you now.’ She walked outside to the other nurse, handed her the bundle and they left at once.

The supplies orderly came out from the back of the building and gave Phoebe an assessing look. ‘Come through to the back. We need to get you into the box.’

‘We’ll talk later,’ Corin told her. ‘You’ll have to trust me for the moment.’

‘I do.’

They’d put a blanket and two pillows in the box to cushion the bumping. Phoebe tried to make herself comfortable inside it, but couldn’t, because she was too cramped and had to crouch down uncomfortably.

‘Sorry,’ Corin whispered. ‘For the moment we don’t want people to have the faintest idea of how you’ve left the hospital or where you’ve gone. I’m taking steps to get Hapton removed from Swindon, but it can’t be done overnight. We have to catch him at something illegal first.’

Then the lid came down and they hammered in a couple of nails.

She winced at the noise, so close to her head, and winced again as they picked the box up and started carrying it outside, bumping her from side to side. She was sure she’d got a splinter in her bottom from the rough wood it was jolted against. She had trouble holding back a cry as someone stumbled and the jerky movement banged her head against
the side of the box, which seemed to be getting smaller by the minute.

They stopped moving and she felt them hoist the box into the back of the truck.

Silence followed and seemed to go on for ages. She wondered what was happening. Although there were slight chinks where the wood didn’t fit perfectly, they were too narrow to do anything but let in a little light and air.

Another bump next to her must be the second box with her suitcase in it, followed by metallic clunks and what sounded like bolts sliding into place. A couple of minutes later someone started up the engine, cursing as the starting handle hit his hand hard. At last the motor started, the truck door banged shut and it set off.

As they jolted along, she braced herself, hoping she wouldn’t be shut up for much longer. Surely they’d stop soon.

But they didn’t.

She’d always hated being shut in. She began counting her breaths, trying not to let panic overwhelm her. But it was hard to keep calm.

 

The following evening, after a tedious day spent watching the road and seeing only delivery vans and ambulances, Frank was beginning to think this wasn’t the best idea. But since he’d started he carried on, noting down every vehicle that passed, because he couldn’t think of anything better to do.

The main trouble was, he couldn’t see who was inside the back of the ambulances.

He’d carry on checking vehicles, especially ones from
somewhere else, just in case, but he reckoned the orderly might be his best way of finding out whether she went out in an ambulance.

He couldn’t bear to leave anyone else to do this. If you wanted a thing done properly, you did it yourself. By the time he introduced Phoebe to his acquaintances, he’d have tamed her good and proper. He’d enjoy doing that.

When evening came, he went to the pub and sat down to wait for his new friend.

The orderly sauntered into the pub with another fellow and they joined Frank, who promptly bought the pair of them a drink, claiming a lucky bet had put him in the money and he wanted to celebrate with someone.

When the new fellow asked what he was doing in the area, he said he was looking for somewhere for his parents to retire to, a nice cottage with a bit of garden, but he hadn’t liked what he’d seen and maybe they’d be better staying in Swindon, after all.

The drink certainly loosened the other men’s tongues and he had a bit of luck. Without him even needing to do any prompting, they got on to the topic of the pretty, red-haired VAD who had vanished mysteriously earlier today, without farewells and without anyone seeing her go.
And
her bed had been allocated to a new woman who’d just turned up, so the redhead clearly wasn’t coming back.

From their talk, the new fellow had fancied Phoebe and she’d told him to leave her alone. Frank pretended to sympathise with him, though in actual fact, he felt like punching the idiot in the guts and teaching him to leave other people’s women alone.

He felt a sourness in his stomach, because it was obvious
that for all his care, his bird had flown the cage. ‘How could this woman have got away from the hospital without anyone seeing her?’ he asked innocently.

‘That’s what everyone wants to know. She took all her clothes, too, so she had time to pack. But I was on gate duty and I saw every vehicle that went in and out, and believe me, she wasn’t in the ambulances.’

‘Perhaps she was crouching on the floor.’

‘It was a quiet day. Only a couple of ambulances went out and I asked the drivers if they’d seen her. They said they were fed up of being asked and
they
hadn’t driven her anywhere. The only vehicles I didn’t know were the delivery vans, one from down Devizes way and one from London. They both had open backs to put stuff on, and there was only room for two people to squeeze into the cab, so I’d have seen her if she’d been in one of them. Believe me, I know a lot about motor vehicles. I’m going to go for a job as a chauffeur once this damned war is over.’

‘Strange, that.’ Frank hid his anger by taking a sip of beer. ‘Your young woman must have had help, then.’

‘Who the hell from? There was no one to get her away, I tell you. I’d have seen them. There were just ordinary fellows delivering supplies.’

‘What about the two who weren’t local? You said one from Devizes. Where exactly was the other from? London’s a big place.’

‘How should I know? I’ve only ever passed through it. They’d come down to bring drugs, which happens every now and then. I noticed the labels on the boxes they delivered, same as usual. These two were just ordinary fellows, not even in uniform.’

Frank left the pub an hour later, abandoned his blankets and set off walking into Swindon. He’d missed her going. Definitely. So he was going to sleep in his own damned bed and get a decent night’s sleep.

He was lucky. A car stopped after he’d walked about half a mile and the driver gave him a lift nearly into Old Town. The fellow didn’t want to talk, so Frank sat quietly as if tired and thanked him for the lift.

What a sod of a week!

 

Phoebe was relieved when the truck stopped and a cracking sound above her was followed by the lid being wrenched off.

Corin held out one hand and she grasped it, letting him pull her up and lift her out of the box.

The other man nodded at her and set about securing the lid again.

‘Do you mind sitting on my knee with my greatcoat covering most of you?’ Corin asked. ‘There isn’t a lot of room in the cab, but we want you out of sight as much as possible.’

She shivered. ‘I’ll be glad to be warm again.’

When the truck set off, she nestled against him, feeling safe and getting warmer by the minute. He kissed her forehead and whispered, ‘I was upset when I heard about your incident. That brute didn’t hurt you, did he?’

‘No. Two patients came along and he ran away.’

‘If I ever catch him, I’ll make sure he
limps
away.’

‘I hope I never even see him again. Where are we going?’

‘To a place called Greyladies, a convalescent home. It’s only about an hour and a half’s drive from here, to the south-west of Swindon, near a village called Challerton. I’ll brief you properly once we get there.’

‘Nice name.’ She closed her eyes and didn’t wake until the truck stopped and the engine was switched off.

Corin shook her gently. ‘You all right?’

She blinked up at him in the light shining from the windows of a big house. ‘Yes. I’m fine. Fancy falling asleep on you like that. Only I didn’t sleep very well last night for worrying about what Frank might do next.’

He glanced sideways but the driver had got out. ‘I enjoyed holding you in my arms, Phoebe.’

She wasn’t going to lie about something so important. ‘I liked being held close by you.’

Other books

Murder at the Watergate by Margaret Truman
A Question of Class by Julia Tagan
Hard Spell by Gustainis, Justin
What the Dog Ate by Bouchard, Jackie
War Room by Chris Fabry
Princess From the Past by Caitlin Crews
Maggie Mine by Starla Kaye