The Best of Daughters (40 page)

‘Rupert! Rupert, it's me.' She waved her arms frantically and his horse reared in fright, almost unseating him. His ashen face resembled a death mask rather than a living breathing human being, but his expression lightened when he saw her.

He drew his mount to a halt. ‘Daisy Bell. It can't be you.'

She moved as close as she could without getting trampled. ‘I can't believe I've found you on this desolate road and in the middle of a peasouper.'

He leaned down so that his face was close to hers. ‘You shouldn't be here, Daisy. We're sitting ducks if the Germans realise that we're heading for the coast.'

‘Are you going home? Is the war ended at last?'

His cracked lips stretched into an attempt at a smile. ‘Far from it. I can't tell you more but get away from here as quickly as you can.'

‘We must move on, Major.' One of his fellow officers saluted smartly, pointing towards the coast. ‘Any moment now—' He broke off abruptly as a barrage of shots rang out over their heads. ‘Take cover,' he
shouted, but his words were lost as all hell broke loose around them.

The blast of a powerful gun almost deafened Daisy and it was followed by volley after volley. Men scattered and some fell in bloody pools on the melting snow. Rupert leapt off his horse, pushing Daisy roughly towards the ambulance. ‘Keep your head down and get inside.'

His fellow officers were too busy directing their men to pay any attention to her and Daisy had witnessed too much carnage in the trenches to want to argue. She made for the ambulance and was about to dive for shelter when a shell exploded in the middle of the road. In the swirling fog and steady rain of shrapnel she saw Rupert struck down even as he tried to save his men. ‘No.' The word was ripped from her throat as she saw him crumple to the ground amidst the wounded and dying. She was about to run to his aid when someone grabbed her bodily and she was dragged into the ambulance.

‘Are you trying to get yourself killed?' Bowman hissed.

‘Let me go. They need help,' Daisy cried, struggling to free herself from his grasp.

He pushed her down on the seat. ‘You won't be able to help anyone if you're dead, sweetheart.' He flung himself out of the vehicle and crouching down he hefted an unconscious man over his shoulder and made for the rear of the ambulance. ‘Loosen the bloody ties,' he shouted, staggering beneath the dead weight of the injured man.

Moving like an automaton, Daisy obeyed without question. She threw back the heavy canvas and reached out to drag the wounded man to safety. Without a word, Bowman scuttled off and even as she was attempting to make the young boy comfortable he returned with another casualty.

‘Where's Rupert?' she cried anxiously. ‘I saw him fall. Get him now, or I'll do it myself.' She leaned out, peering into the murk of fog and smoke. The smell of cordite, blood and burning flesh filled the air, making her retch, but she could see Rupert lying inert while those who had escaped the blast sought any cover they could find and fired round after round at the invisible enemy. Bowman was limping badly and she could see fresh blood on his tunic, but as he reached Rupert a shell exploded close enough to send him flying. They lay side by side, their tunics cut to ribbons and stained with blood. Daisy leapt from the ambulance and falling to her knees she crawled towards them. A young corporal came to her aid and helped her to raise Rupert, who was unconscious but still breathing. ‘He's alive,' she murmured, choking back a sob. ‘We must get him into the ambulance.'

‘This one's badly hurt too, miss.' The corporal lifted Bowman's head. ‘Hang on, mate, you'll be okay. We'll soon get you fixed up.'

Bowman opened his eyes. ‘Daisy.' His voice was ragged and so faint that she had to lean closer to hear what he was trying to say. He raised his hand to touch her face. ‘I love you.' His eyelids fluttered and closed.

Too fraught even to panic, Daisy struggled to her
feet. ‘We must get these men back to Calais,' she cried, grabbing the corporal by the sleeve. ‘You must help me—' She heard the explosion and felt a sudden sharp pain – and then nothing.

DAISY OPENED HER
eyes and found herself staring into Clarice's familiar face. ‘What happened?' she murmured, wincing as she attempted even the smallest movement. ‘Where am I?'

‘You're in the casino,' Clarice said, smiling. ‘They found you a private room or you'd have been on the ward with all the soldier boys. They might have enjoyed your company but I doubt if the feeling would have been mutual.'

‘In the casino,' Daisy said dully. ‘How did I get to Calais?'

‘They brought you back in your ambulance, and you're lucky to be alive,' Clarice said to her severely. ‘You were caught in the crossfire and if it hadn't been for a Tommy with knowledge of first aid, you might have bled to death and you certainly wouldn't be here now.'

It was all coming back to her. Daisy closed her eyes. She could hear the whinnying of horses and the nightmare percussive booming of heavy artillery and small arms fire. She could smell blood and smoke and then everything had turned to darkness, but just before that she had been cradling Rupert's head on her lap and Bowman had told her that he loved her. Tears trickled down her cheeks to soak the pillow beneath
her head. ‘Rupert – is he?' She could not bring herself to say the word.

‘He's alive, but he's still in a critical condition.' Clarice took her hand and held it. ‘But I'm afraid the other one didn't make it, Daisy.'

‘Do you mean Bowman?'

‘They said that the man who tried to help you was a Belgian by the name of Smets.'

‘He was badly wounded . . .' Daisy choked on a sob as fresh memories of that terrible scene came flooding back to her.

‘Don't distress yourself, dear.' Clarice squeezed her fingers and her blue eyes were moist with unshed tears. ‘He didn't make it, I'm afraid. He gave his life to save yours, Daisy. He was a brave chap. A real hero.'

For a wild moment Daisy wanted to laugh. Bowman – a hero? That would have amused him no end. But he was dead and that was even harder to believe. She had seen him fall and had heard what must have been his last words, but it was almost impossible to think of his lust for life quenched in an instant of selfless bravery.

Clarice passed her a hanky. ‘You're still very weak, Daisy. You really mustn't upset yourself.'

‘Don't take any notice of me. I'm still a bit groggy.'

‘That's only natural. You had several pieces of shrapnel removed from your shoulder and the nurse told me that a bullet had shattered your collar bone. The surgeon who operated on you said that it would heal in time.'

‘I'm more concerned about Rupert than myself.'
Daisy dashed the tears from her eyes with her good hand.

‘You mustn't worry about him,' Clarice said softly. ‘Just concentrate on getting your strength back. I've missed you terribly and they've given me a new girl to work with who's never been away from home before. She tries her hardest but she's not you.'

‘You mean she doesn't boss you around?' Daisy forced her lips into a smile. She knew that Clarice was trying to cheer her up, but at this moment all she wanted was to be left alone. She needed time to think and time to grieve for Bowman, who for all his many faults had occupied a special place in her heart no matter how hard she had tried to forget him.

Clarice patted her hand. ‘I can see that you're tired, Daisy. I'll go now but I'll come back and see you whenever I get the opportunity.'

‘Please do,' Daisy said weakly. ‘I'm not used to being laid up like this.'

‘Well, darling, you'd better get used to it because you're going to be here for a while yet.' Clarice rose to her feet and leaned over to kiss Daisy on the forehead. ‘Take care of yourself and don't worry about Rupert. He's on a ward here and he's in the best of hands.'

A feeling of panic seized her and Daisy caught Clarice by the sleeve. ‘Please don't go. Stay a bit longer.'

‘I can't, Daisy. I've got to get back to the unit, but I promise I'll come again very soon.'

Daisy was too weak to do anything other than release her hand, and she watched her go with a sinking heart.
She felt helpless and alone, and what was worse even the smallest movement caused her excruciating pain. She knew that this was the end of her time in France. Her collar bone would heal but it was unlikely that any medical board would pass her as fit to work alongside the women she had come to think of as her sisters. She closed her eyes and drifted back to sleep.

The nurses were kind but overworked and had little time to spend chatting. They did what was necessary to make Daisy comfortable but after that she was left to her own devices. On the third day she had had enough of being bedridden and she was desperate to see Rupert. No one would tell her anything apart from the fact that he was doing as well as could be expected, and she was determined to find out for herself. She waited until the relative quiet of evening before rising from her bed. She was weak and her legs felt like jelly, but somehow she managed to slip a dressing gown around her shoulders, and drag a comb through her hair. Following the example of many of the women she had taken scissors to her long tresses soon after she joined Unit Three. It had cost her dear but now she was glad that she had short hair. It curled around her head, giving her the appearance of a street urchin rather than a well-brought up young lady, and it would be some time before she would be able to put it up or have it coiffed into the elaborate styles that had been fashionable at home. Vanity had never been one of her vices, but she clung to the vague hope that short hair would become the latest thing when she returned to civilian
life. She opened the door, checking both ways to make sure that no one was coming. The night nurse was not due on her rounds for a good hour and hopefully that would give her time to find Rupert.

She crept along the corridor, peering into the side wards which had once been the offices of the staff who ran the casino, and eventually she came across him in a small room at the head of the stairs. She went in and stood at his bedside, gazing down at his sleeping face. Fine golden stubble covered his chin and his cheeks were ashen and sunken. His hair had been shaved off on one side and a livid scar puckered his scalp. His bare chest was bandaged from shoulder to waist and his right leg was in a plaster cast. Her heart swelled with pity as she gazed down at his inert figure, and she felt suddenly protective and responsible for him as though he were her child, and not the grown man she had promised to marry.

She pulled the sheet up to his chin and tucked it around him. ‘Sleep well, Rupert,' she whispered, dropping a breath of a kiss on his forehead. ‘I'll come again tomorrow.'

Next morning she was up before the nurse came to bring her a cup of tea, which caused raised eyebrows, but Daisy was unrepentant. ‘I'm getting better now,' she said when she was told to get back to bed in no uncertain terms. ‘I don't want to lie around all day. Perhaps I can help around the wards and make myself useful.'

The nurse stared at her in amazement. ‘I heard that
you lot were tough, but you're under my orders now, Miss Lennox. You'll do as I say.'

Daisy sipped her tea, hoping that her rebellious spirit would go unnoticed. ‘Of course,' she said meekly. ‘You're the boss.' She put the mug down on the bedside cabinet. ‘But, if I promise to be very good, will you give me some information about another patient?'

The nurse allowed herself to smile. ‘Bribery won't wash with me, miss.'

‘Please, I wouldn't ask but Major Pendleton is my fiancé. I'm almost his next of kin so I have a right to know how he is doing.'

‘Really?' A glimmer of interest shone in the woman's dark eyes. ‘Well, I don't suppose it will hurt if I tell you that he had a piece of shrapnel lodged in his brain and it had to be removed. It's too early to tell if he's suffered lasting damage, although the surgeon hopes that he will make a full recovery.'

‘And his other injuries?'

‘Have you been wandering around the wards, Miss Lennox?'

‘I just wanted to see him and reassure myself that he was still alive.'

‘He's very much alive, but you mustn't roam about the hospital. It's not the done thing, as you must know.'

‘I am his fiancée.'

‘But you're not engaged to the rest of the soldiers in my care. Need I say more? You've been here long enough to understand the rules, Miss Lennox.'

‘Of course, and I'm sorry. But please tell me about Major Pendleton's other injuries. His chest wound, for
instance, and his leg is in plaster. Is this the extent of his injuries?'

The nurse frowned and hesitated for a moment, but as her eyes met Daisy's she gave a reluctant smile. ‘I know you'll find out one way or another, but for heaven's sake don't tell anyone that I told you this.'

‘I won't. I promise.'

‘A bullet passed within inches of the major's heart, but luckily it went straight through and out the other side. Another one fractured his femur, which of course will heal in time, but a piece of shrapnel lodged in his spine, and although it's been removed the doctors fear he might never walk again.' She stopped to take a breath. ‘But it's the head injury which is giving them the most concern. Major Pendleton is, to put it plainly, in a coma. I wouldn't tell you this but I think you might be of help to him. If you promise to rest your arm, I'll let you sit with him in the daytime. Perhaps if you talk to him he might hear your voice and recognise it. Who knows?'

‘I'll go now.'

‘Not like that you won't. Put some clothes on, young lady. I don't want a riot on the wards. Your khaki tunic should put most of them off. It's not the most flattering garment I've ever seen.'