Summer's End (40 page)

‘War work,' George pronounced grandly, eyeing the roast chicken hurriedly cooked in honour of the unexpected guests. The stewpots of the hoppers had smelled tantalisingly good in the fields, and made him run back to the Rectory at the double for dinner.

‘She's joined the Foreign Legion and gone to the Sahara?' Felicia enquired, straight-faced.

‘No. She's gone to Ashden station, dishing out lemonade. There's a late troop train coming through. It was her idea,' George informed her, generous when credit was due. ‘I give her a hand now and then.'

Phoebe? How things were changing, Caroline realised. Such a short time, and already the Rectory seemed different. Or rather, not the Rectory, but its inhabitants. Thank goodness, for the Rectory itself should be immutable. Ashden had shown tangible signs of change, however. Not only was Mrs Lake sitting on the tractor in place of her husband but right in the middle of the village, two cottages she'd known all her life had vanished, and the foundations of the cinema were laid. ‘The Tower of Babel,' her father had grunted when she asked him about it. ‘William Swinford-Browne's contribution to the war effort, or so he claims, though the village seems to think it's going to be a valiant thing.'

‘Chicken,' cried Caroline delightedly, as her father flourished the carving knife and fork. It was obviously time to change the subject.

‘They're falling in price now nobody entertains any more,' Elizabeth said. ‘It may be grouse when you come home next.' Hovering in the air was an unanswerable ‘when will that be?'

Laurence was inexpertly carving off a leg when the door flew open and Phoebe rushed in, still with her hat on, and stumbling over the
mat as if to match her incoherent speech. ‘They're back.'

‘Who?' Laurence enquired, thrown off his stroke.

‘Lady Hunney and
Daniel.
'

‘Oh.' Felicia rushed to her in delight, so overwhelmed with relief she did not notice Phoebe's slight withdrawal.

‘Where was he? Where did she –?'

‘I don't know,' Phoebe cried impatiently. ‘She wouldn't talk to me. They simply put the stretcher into the ambulance, and off they went. I just came to tell you.' Her voice tailed off as she saw their faces and realised what she'd said.

‘Stretcher?' Laurence voiced their fears.

‘Yes, he's wounded.' Phoebe looked round uncertainly.

‘How badly?' Felicia demanded.

‘I don't know,' Phoebe wailed. ‘I thought you'd be pleased they were back.'

‘We are; Felicia said quietly. ‘No matter how bad the news, he is alive.'

A sudden arrow of agony struck Caroline unawares with that one word, and plunged her back into doubt. How could she know if Reggie were alive or not? His last letter had been cheerful enough, but there was a long time and many bullets between the writing of a letter and its arrival. Suppose she were away when he came home on leave? He would understand, wouldn't he, that she was doing it for him? It was not going to be easy either for herself or Felicia to leave Ashden and go so far afield. Penelope, who had left so confidently for Serbia, was used to living independently, whereas, though Caroline had always longed for the opportunity to ramble through the larger world, now that the opportunity had come she found it daunting, and was glad that Felicia would be with her.

On the following morning, the day they were to leave Ashden, Felicia was nowhere to be found – in the Rectory, at least. It was obvious to Caroline where she had gone, and her anxiety grew. What would Felicia find at the Manor, and how would it affect her – and their plans? At ten, while she was packing, with Mother's help and Harriet at hand to be despatched to the village for last-minute requirements, Eleanor arrived. Caroline's heart sank. It was not hard to guess the reason.

‘I can't come, Caroline,' she burst out as soon as they were alone
in the garden. She had been planning to apply to the Red Cross and hoped to follow them out shortly. ‘You understand, don't you? Is Felicia still going? She's very keen on Daniel, isn't she?'

‘Of course, Eleanor. I don't know whether she's coming or not. I haven't seen her this morning, and she said nothing yesterday evening.'

‘You wouldn't go if it were Reggie, would you?'

‘No.' Caroline did not even have to consider the question. Then her place would be here. The closest she had come to the deep grief of bereavement was when Grandma Overton had died, and then she had been supported by sharing it with her family. If it were Reggie she lost, others would sympathise, but they could not truly understand.

‘Mother simply said no when she discovered about Antwerp,' Eleanor continued. ‘I had to tell her.'

‘You let her persuade you?'

‘No.' Eleanor was definite about this. ‘I would have gone. It is for Daniel I want to stay. Not that he asked me to, for he is hardly capable of it. It was seeing him, and realising that war is here, as well as in Antwerp. How could I go, Caroline?'

‘You had no choice.'

‘I'll do my best to be assigned to the Manor in due course. Mother will hate it, but I don't care. I'm sure the Red Cross will be sympathetic. I'm not much good at nursing, but I can fetch and carry like anyone else, and normally I'm good at being placid.' Her voice broke.

‘How is he?' Caroline asked gently.

‘Oh, Caroline, he's paralysed below the waist, and a wound in the lower leg is simply oozing pus. It may have to come off.'

It was like a bowl of cold water thrown into her face. Never had Caroline imagined anything so terrible. A broken leg, a broken arm would mend. But this? And to Daniel, the good-looking daredevil who had planned to travel so far and do so much.

‘He wasn't wounded in the big disaster that overtook the King's Own near Le Cateau, so naturally he wasn't on that casualty list. He was hit later in the day as they were involved in sporadic fighting, and then immediately the retreat began. He was taken to a dressing station, and in the confusion names got muddled and he ended up in one of the three Paris military hospitals – oh, what does it matter? He's terribly, terribly wounded.'

Yellow telegrams to break the hearts of those at home, and stretchers. At the Marne the Lancers had galloped into battle; on the Aisne the army had been met by the new Krupp howitzers, she'd read. What use were gallant cavalry charges when met by shrapnel, and shells, and bullets that tore and mangled flesh without the enemy even showing its face? Anger filled Caroline at the futility of it all, and made her all the more determined to strike her own blow. The sudden doubts she had had at the realisation she might lose both Eleanor and Felicia's companionship vanished. If it had been right for her to go with them, it was right to go alone, no matter what collywobbles fluttered within her.

‘Mother had quite a time of it in France.' Eleanor tried to be light-hearted, ‘I gather she found she had no right to be on the military trains, could not bluff her way through, and had no money that the French would accept; so she sold her pocket watch and ring, and with the proceeds hired a horse, cart and driver and was driven to the front.'

‘To the
front?
Didn't anyone stop her?'

‘They most certainly would have done so if they'd caught her before it was too late. It's lucky she didn't get shot. It seems she came up behind the reserve lines and demanded to see the colonel of the 1st King's Own, who had apoplexy on the spot. He confirmed Daniel was missing, and good old Mother, who never takes no for an answer, then went on a tour of
all
the hospitals from field tents to fully equipped outfits, and eventually found Daniel down in Paris. Mother simply ignored all protests and stayed. Daniel must have been delirious, because he apparently thought he was back at Ashden with her here.' Eleanor failed to keep up her brave effort and broke down.

‘Your mother is a very brave woman,' Caroline comforted her.

‘I know.' Eleanor managed to grin. ‘I'd so love to be able to hate her. But I don't.'

‘I shall not be able to go to Antwerp, of course.' Felicia looked anxiously at her sister. ‘I don't know what the Red Cross will say, but I doubt if they'd want unwilling candidates. I'll speak to them immediately. The Matron at Ashden says she can do with even untrained help at the moment, so they may not mind too much.'

‘No, I'm sure they'll help.' Caroline tried to be reassuring, but
Felicia eyed her doubtfully. ‘Are you sure it's wise for you to stay here, Felicia?' she continued gently. ‘Perhaps it would hurt him even to see you?'

It was a mean argument, but Caroline meant it. If Daniel was so badly wounded, the sight of Felicia, whom he had come at least close to loving, might remind him all the more of his changed life.

‘There is that chance,' Felicia conceded, following her reasoning instantly. ‘But I shall stay nevertheless. I know I can
help
him, and that is more important than his liking or not liking me to be there.'

Caroline hesitated, reluctant to pry but longing to know. Daniel was friend to them all, part of their circle. ‘Did you see him?'

‘Yes.'

‘Did he – was he – did he know you?'

‘He did. And you are right, he turned his head away.'

‘How could you bear it?' Caroline cried, in agony for her sister.

‘I could not, until I realised I was belying my own purpose if I gave up so easily. I told him I would come again, and again, until I was as much part of his daily view as the sunflowers on the curtains at the windows. And then just as the sunflowers turn to face the sun, so would he.'

Her voice was so matter-of-fact it took a moment for Caroline to realise how much it must have cost Felicia to endure this, and then to recount it. ‘And what did he say to that?'

‘He said –' she delivered the words with pride – ‘“do as you damned well please.”'

Should she go in? Caroline hesitated while passing the Manor House, and decided against it – not while Daniel was so ill. The Manor, now fully equipped as a hospital, had an atmosphere of purposefulness and expectancy. This place was of the present; the days of feudal manors were past until after the war, when all they were fighting for would have been achieved and Sussex could resume its sleepy ordered peacefulness.

The Dower House's generous eighteenth-century proportions had been reduced to a cramped dolls' house in which the staff and inhabitants were manoeuvring round each other with disapprobation and discomfort.

‘I've come to say goodbye again, Lady Hunney,' Caroline declared
as cheerfully as she could manage, when she was admitted into the presence.

‘
Goodbye
, Caroline?' The elegant eyebrows arched as though they had never seen the battlefields of France.

‘I'm going to Antwerp, as a VAD. Eleanor must have told you.'

‘Why?'

‘To work there.'

‘You have employment here. We have brought many of the books that require cataloguing to the Dower House, and no doubt the Manor would still afford you access to the main library. Do you intend to walk out on your obligations without a word? It seems strange behaviour.'

Caroline felt as if she had bounced down Alice's rabbit hole into Wonderland. Surely Lady Hunney could not be serious? ‘I'm sure you would agree that everyone must do what they can for the war. I must, and you have. It was a very brave thing to find Daniel and bring him home.'

Lady Hunney stared at her. ‘Not brave, it was my duty as a mother. I suggest you do yours as a fiancée. I believe you consider yourself engaged to my elder son?'

Hadn't boxing without gloves been outlawed years ago? Caroline mentally staggered under the ferocity of the assault. ‘I love Reggie and I shall marry him. What my duty is to him is for me to decide.'

‘I fear you do not understand what marrying into a family such as ours entails. When a woman marries she accepts the requirements of her husband's family. As Reginald's fiancée they are incumbent on you.'

‘And what are those?' She was seething with anger now the initial shock of attack was subsiding, but pleased that she was managing to control it.

‘To do your duty as Reggie's wife and the future lady of the manor.
She
cannot shed her responsibilities as lightly as you seem about to, Caroline. She is there,
of
the village and
for
the village – just as your father is to a lesser extent. He could not gallivant off to be an army chaplain with talk of doing what he could for the war. Such lack of discipline is disgraceful. The rule of self will lead this country to destruction.'

She was the Red Queen, she was monstrous, she must be beaten. ‘Reggie would wish me to do what I know to be right.'

‘Then you do not understand my son. He is a Hunney, and that guides him through life as firmly as the Ten Commandments.'

It would be an Old Testament comparison. There was nothing of compassion in Lady Hunney. ‘I cannot accept your precepts. Nor am I bound to.'

‘Reginald will be most disappointed in you. It was bad enough your gadding off to that hospital; to know you are in Antwerp, possibly in danger, can only cause him distress.'

‘And you will tell him, won't you?'

‘It is my duty to do so.'

‘Then you must follow that, Lady Hunney, as I shall mine – in Antwerp.'

‘You are mistaken. Hearing of your outrageous plan from my daughter, I have been in touch with Mrs St Clair Stobart, and informed her and the Red Cross that you will not be going.'

‘How
dare
you?' Caroline was white with anger. ‘How
dare
you interfere in my life?'

‘It is not
your
life, Caroline. You have a position to maintain, and you will maintain it.'