The Best of Daughters (43 page)

It was all such a far cry from the horror of the battlefields that it brought a lump to her throat. She realised just how much she loved the historic old house and its quintessentially English setting, and she had come to realise that this was where she wanted to be for the rest of her life, but not as the privileged lady of the manor. She knew now that women could do almost anything once they had set their minds to it, and if she could not serve her country at the Front, then she could help to rehabilitate the gallant soldiers who had already given so much, and give them hope for a brighter future.

She returned to the present with a jolt as the clink of china cups and saucers indicated that tea was being served on the terrace. Cucumber sandwiches, seed cake and jam tarts had been specially prepared by Cook and were disappearing at an astonishing rate. Altogether there was a festive atmosphere, almost like a village fete in the old days before war had torn their world apart. Daisy made her way to the sunny spot on the terrace where Lady Pendleton was sitting on a wrought-iron bench, talking to Rupert who looked much fitter and happier now, even allowing for the fact that he was still confined largely to a wheelchair.

Lady Pendleton rose to her feet as Daisy approached. ‘This has all gone stunningly well thanks to your superb efforts, my dear.' She glanced down at her son with a fond smile. ‘Don't you think she's a wonderful girl, Rupert?'

He nodded his head. ‘Yes, Mother.'

‘You mustn't tire yourself, darling,' she said, frowning.
‘Perhaps he ought to go indoors, Daisy? Too much excitement might set him back.'

‘I'm fine,' Rupert said wearily. ‘Fine, really.'

‘Oh, well, dear. You know best.' Lady Pendleton picked up her parasol and walked sedately to join a group of military men with a dazzling array of gold braid on their uniforms.

‘Mother fusses,' Rupert said, patting the empty space beside him. ‘Sit with me, please.'

She sat down. ‘I can take you indoors if all this is too much for you, Rupert.'

‘I'm home,' he said simply. ‘I'm happy.'

‘And you'll soon be back on your feet again,' Daisy said, curling her fingers around his. ‘Some of the most eminent specialists in the country have agreed to visit on a regular basis, and there are women trained in physical therapy who will help you to become fully mobile again.'

He smiled weakly. ‘I feel like a baby – learning to walk and talk.'

‘You just need time to rest and recuperate, and I'm sure that being in your old room will speed your recovery.'

‘You did all this for me. I can never repay you, Daisy.'

‘Of course,' she said, squeezing his fingers gently. ‘That's what old friends do for one another.'

A shadow crossed his face. ‘Old friends?'

She leaned across to kiss him on the cheek. ‘The best of friends forever.'

His mouth worked soundlessly and she patted his hand. ‘It will come in time. Don't tire yourself, darling.'

The term of endearment slipped out unintentionally and she withdrew her hand hastily. He was the one who had broken their engagement and she must not distress him by reminding him of what had gone before. If she had lost him she must bear the blame. She had taken his love for granted, giving him very little in return. She had allowed her infatuation with Bowman to control her thoughts and deeds, and she had treated Rupert with callous indifference. Now, too late, she realised that Rupert was the real love of her life, only she had been too besotted to see it. She rose to her feet. ‘I'll fetch you a cup of tea and a slice of cake.' She hurried off without giving him a chance to respond.

In the ensuing months Daisy found herself fully occupied with the day to day running of the home. Somehow she seemed to have taken full responsibility for organising everything from the hiring of staff to supervising the patients' menus. She used all the skills she had learned at Lamarck to run the wards and no detail was too small to escape her attention. She worked all day every day, including Sundays, and often late into the evening. But to her it was more than a job; it was the vocation that had been calling to her since she was a young girl. She was at last doing something useful and doing it well. Her parents worried that she was working too hard, but when she did visit them at Rainbow's End they had to admit that she had never looked better or been in such high spirits.

Ruby had taken to Ted without any reservations and
both Victor and Gwendoline patently adored him. He could never replace Teddy in their hearts, but they took a deep interest in the child's wellbeing, even planning to send him to a private prep school when he was old enough. Daisy did not think that Iris would approve of this idea, but she wisely said nothing.

At Christmas Ruby and Arley announced their engagement and Victor confirmed his intention of making Arley his partner in the firm. It was time, he said, to take things easy, especially as he now had a man in whom he could place complete trust to run the business to his high standards and to continue making a very nice profit. Beatrice was a picture of burgeoning motherhood and it was obvious to all that Jimmy was totally devoted to her and to their daughter. Joyce was now toddling and she followed Martin everywhere. He suffered her attentions for a time but after a while he became bored and ended up playing with his dog or with Ted. When all of three children were together it took all the adults to keep an eye on them for fear of what they might get up to next.

Rainbow's End rang with the laughter of children, the barking of the dog and the general hubbub of a growing family. The old house had been spruced up and had lost the sad, neglected look of previous years. The roof no longer leaked and the gardens front and rear were well tended. Someone had even taken the trouble to oil the front gate so that it no longer groaned a protest whenever it was opened, and the interior of the house had been polished so that the floorboards glowed like conkers freshly plucked from their shells.
The scent of lavender and beeswax mingled with the delicious aroma of freshly baked bread, which Ruby had mastered to perfection.

Daisy loved to visit, but at the end of the day she was glad to return to the relative peace and quiet of Pendleton Park. Lord and Lady Pendleton spent much of their time in London, but when they returned home they seemed content enough in their private wing of the house. Daisy had her old room, which was just across the landing from Rupert's, and she slept with the door ajar just in case he were to call out in the night. At first he had suffered from terrible nightmares, and she had had to rush into his room and stay with him until he drifted back to sleep. But after several months of intensive treatment from the specialists and therapists, these gradually lessened. Daisy had very little to do with this side of things, but she was delighted and relieved to see a definite improvement in both his speech and his movement.

There was a steady influx of soldiers in need of rest and recuperation as well as the specialist services that Pendleton Park was now able to offer. In the winter they used the long gallery for exercise and they gathered in the great hall around huge log fires in the evening after dinner to play cards, read books and magazines or even to cluster round the piano and sing the songs that had kept them going in the trenches.

With the coming of finer weather in the spring they were able to exercise in the grounds, and with the onset of summer and lighter evenings the pleasure gardens were filled with ambulant men in various stages of
recovery, some of them on crutches and others pushing their more disabled comrades in wheelchairs. There were, of course, budding romances between the young nurses and their patients. Daisy did nothing to discourage these relationships unless they threatened to subvert the clearly laid out rules of conduct. She was no martinet, unlike some of the nursing sisters whom she had come across in Flanders, but this was England, and some of the men were going to need devoted wives who understood their condition and could cope with a husband with missing limbs, or suffering from shell shock, or deafened by bomb blasts, blinded by shrapnel or poisoned by chlorine gas.

Although the war seemed far distant from the peaceful English countryside, Daisy read the newspapers daily and she received short but telling letters from Clarice and some of her other friends who had remained in Flanders. Sometimes she wished that she could join them, but then she comforted herself with the fact that her work was just as vital as theirs. They were in the business of saving lives, and hers was the task of rebuilding those that had been shattered by the mindless violence of war.

She was concerned for all the men in her care, but it was hard to remain detached and professional when Rupert's progress was involved. He had responded well to treatment and gradually regained the use of his legs. She watched him critically day by day, month by month. In the summer she walked with him in the gardens, delighting in the way he managed now without crutches and the fact that his speech was improving, even though
occasionally he was stuck for a word and had to stop and struggle to find the one that had slipped his mind. The temptation to prompt him was almost overwhelming, but she learned to wait until he asked for help, although this was not often. He was doggedly determined to conquer the impediment that at times caused him to stammer, and to master the language that he had had to relearn like a baby enunciating his first words. Daisy could only admire his courage and the cheerfulness with which he sought to make a full recovery.

Even though her heart was with Rupert every step of the way, she did not neglect the other patients in the home. She knew them all by name and gave each one her individual attention. She spent hours talking to those who were physically able but scarred mentally by their wartime experience, and took time to find out about their lives before the war. The men who liked working with their hands were encouraged to take up woodwork and given jobs around the estate in which they could practise their skills. Others who showed an interest in gardening were allocated plots in the walled garden where they could grow flowers or vegetables. There were jobs to be done in the stables and the motor vehicles were always in need of attention.

Those who were more academic had free run of the library and Daisy was always glad of help in the office. The patients' records were confidential but there was a seemingly insurmountable pile of correspondence to be dealt with as well as bills to be paid. Daisy was quick to spot a talent, even a latent one, and to treat
the men as individuals and not pigeonhole them by their disabilities. Her understanding of what it was really like in the thick of battle and her first hand knowledge of the conditions under which the men had lived helped to lower the previously insurmountable barriers of class and sex. No matter whether the man was an officer or a private, she could talk to them on their own level, and by the end of the first year she was seeing astounding and satisfying results.

Rupert, she felt with pride, was her most outstanding success. Her heart swelled with love at the mere sight of him and she was finding it increasingly difficult to keep control of her emotions. Sometimes she was within an ace of blurting out her feelings, but then she reminded herself that it would be taking an unfair advantage. He was deeply grateful for all that she had done for him, but she did not want him to marry her out of gratitude. Sometimes she despaired, convinced that they would live for the rest of their lives merely as devoted but platonic friends.

One September evening, after dinner, Rupert suggested a walk in the pleasure gardens. Purple shadows were consuming the herbaceous borders and the last roses of summer drooped from the pergolas. The air was still warm with a touch of coolness in the light breeze that heralded the approach of autumn. Rupert linked her hand through his arm. ‘Daisy, my dear girl, you know I can never repay you for what you've done for me.'

She smiled and her heartbeats quickened a little. ‘What brought this on?'

He stopped beside the stone fountain, taking both her hands in his. ‘There's something I have to tell you, and I'm afraid you won't like it.'

Her breath caught in her throat. ‘What is it? For God's sake, Rupert, tell me.'

‘I thought you might have guessed. You know me so well.'

‘I'm not a mind reader.'

His eyes were troubled as he gazed into hers. ‘You know Parkin drove me into Colchester yesterday.'

‘Yes, of course. You said that you had business there.'

‘I went to the barracks.'

She knew then what it was that he had to say. ‘You've re-enlisted.'

‘How would you feel if I said that I had? Would you send me off with a good heart?'

‘How could I send you off with a smile, knowing what I know of war? I think you're mad, and a bit selfish.' She tore her hands free and turned away from him to hide the angry tears that threatened to spill from her eyes.

‘I survived, thanks largely to you. I owe you a huge debt of gratitude.'

‘A debt of gratitude.' She spun round to face him, anger replacing sorrow. ‘We were going to be married. You told me that you loved me.'

‘And I do,' he said softly. ‘I was a stupid idiot to break off our engagement and I regretted it bitterly afterwards but it was too late to do anything about it. I love you with all my heart and soul, but I'd only be half a man if I took the easy way out. You, of all people, should understand that.'

‘I don't believe you have any real feeling for me. I think you're in love with love, and I come a poor second.'

‘That's just not true.' He pulled her into his arms and claimed her mouth with a kiss that was almost brutal in its intensity. ‘Never say that I don't love you,' he said angrily as he released her lips, only to claim them again with a passion that both shocked and thrilled her.

She laced her fingers at the back of his neck, inhaling the scent and taste of him. She was light-headed with the release of feelings long suppressed. ‘Then don't go. Stay here with me.' She leaned against him, painfully aware that his heart was beating as fast as hers. She could feel the tension in his muscles as he held her, but she knew that if she loved him she must let him go. ‘You're right,' she whispered. ‘I've no right to keep you here. Actually I feel the same about the FANYs but they wouldn't pass me as fit.'