The Orchid House (43 page)

Even though Olivia had prepared herself as best she could to greet a man who would be much changed, and physically and mentally diminished by his experiences, she was absolutely dreading the moment she saw him.

Forty-five minutes later the ship docked, with a loud blast of its horn.

Harry was home.

Olivia waited in an agony of suspense behind the barrier that kept families clear of the gangplank. Eventually, a straggle of men started to disembark. Olivia scoured the haggard faces, but could not see Harry. She watched as other men were surrounded by their families and tears of joy were shed. Some were in wheelchairs, others on crutches, missing limbs, eyes … it was a traumatic sight. From what Sebastian Ainsley had said, Harry was at least all in one piece, although the dengue fever, which had nearly killed him and had delayed his return, would have taken its toll.

Just as Olivia was beginning to fear Harry was not on the ship, a familiar face emerged at the top of the gangplank. To her surprise, from a distance, he didn’t look much different. In fact, if anything, the tan he had acquired had only enhanced his looks. He was cleanly shaven, his dark hair combed neatly. In a navy blazer and cream trousers, he appeared more devastatingly handsome than she remembered him.

She left the barrier and walked towards him. She pinched her lips furtively to bring blood into them and put her hand to her blonde hair to check it was neat.

As he walked off the gangplank, she called his name. ‘Harry! I’m here.’

He turned towards her, his eyes blank, searching for the voice. Then he saw her and their eyes locked.

Her eyes betrayed her happiness as she walked towards him.

His eyes betrayed nothing as he walked towards her.

When they met, it was she who threw her arms round his shoulders. Harry’s hung by his sides.

‘Harry, thank God you’re home!’

He shook himself from her grip. ‘Yes, I’m home,’ he nodded perfunctorily. ‘Where’s the car?’

Olivia felt a lump constricting her throat but, remembering Elsie, she said, ‘Not far. It’s parked about five minutes away.’

‘Shall we go?’

‘Of course. You must be tired.’ They set off together, Olivia leading the way.

‘No, I’m not at all tired. I’ve just suffered a month’s inertia on the ship.’

Once Harry’s suitcase was stowed in the boot and he was settled in the passenger seat, Olivia started the engine. They set off for Wharton Park in silence.

Harry gazed out of the window, his head turned away from Olivia.

‘Everything seems so colourless here after the Far East.’

‘Well,’ said Olivia, swallowing hard, ‘at least it’s the end of May, which you always said was the best time to be in England.’

‘Yes,’ he agreed. ‘But now I’ve experienced the tropics, it’s not a patch on there, really.’

Olivia could not help but be hurt and shocked by Harry’s reaction. She knew and understood it would be difficult for him to adjust, but the last thing she had expected was for him to be wistful about the location of his living hell.

‘Well, Wharton Park
is
looking beautiful,’ she replied staunchly.

‘I’m sure,’ Harry replied coldly.

They drove on in silence and Olivia surmised that, although Harry looked normal, his mental state was clearly not as healthy. Perhaps Wharton Park, the home he loved so much, could provoke an emotional response. She steeled herself to accept his oddness, understanding now exactly what Elsie had meant about Bill being ‘somewhere else’
–
it was obvious Harry was too.

Two hours later, they entered the gates of Wharton Park. Olivia glanced at Harry to gauge his reaction, but could not see his face.

‘Well, here we are then,’ she said brightly, ‘home.’

Harry roused himself and then said, almost as an afterthought, ‘How are Ma and Pa, by the way?’

Olivia was amazed it had taken him so long to ask. ‘Your mother is in excellent health. Your father – well, he has not been so lucky, unfortunately. He had a heart attack a year ago. He is a little better now,’ she replied carefully, ‘but he is unable to work. The doctors said it put too much strain on his heart. Your mother insists that having him in the house the whole the time puts far too much strain on hers!’ Olivia tried to make a joke.

‘How miserable for him.’ Harry looked at Olivia, anxiety in his eyes. It was the first show of emotion she had seen. ‘He’s not in any imminent danger though, is he?’

‘Well, one can never be sure with a dicky heart. Right,’ she said, changing the subject swiftly as they approached the house, ‘I warn you, everyone is gathering to welcome you home.’

She stopped the car and tooted three times. At the sound of the horn, the front doors swung open and Adrienne ran down the steps to greet him.

‘Harry,
mon chéri
! You are home!’

Harry stepped out of the car and walked towards her, into arms that opened wide, pulled him to her and held him tightly. ‘Oh, my Harry! You are safe, you are safe home,’ she whispered into his shoulder. ‘Let me look at you.’ She stood back and studied him from head to toe. ‘
Mon dieu!
I think you look more handsome and healthier than when you left! Do you not think so, Olivia?’

Olivia, who was standing listlessly by Harry, nodded. ‘That’s what I thought when I saw him,’ she agreed.

‘I’m well, Mother, really. I wasn’t,’ Harry added quickly, ‘but I am now.’

Adrienne put her arm round her son and led him up the steps, with Olivia trailing behind. She swung back the front door and there, in two long lines, stood the entire staff of Wharton Park, forming a guard of honour.

As he stepped into the hall, Harry heard Bill shout, ‘Three cheers for Master Harry! Hip hip –’

‘Hoorah!!’

‘Hip hip –’

‘Hoorah!’

‘Hip hip –’

‘Hoorah!’

A huge burst of applause and cheering broke out. Harry walked along the line, receiving hearty handshakes and slaps on the back from the men, and bobs from the girls.

‘So glad you are home, Master Harry.’

‘Congratulations, Bill told us how brave you were.’

‘Glad to see you safe home, sir.’

‘The house wasn’t the same without you, Master Harry,’ said Mrs Jenks fondly, standing at the end of the line. ‘I’ll be making the biggest fry-up you’ve ever eaten for breakfast tomorrow morning.’

Despite his determination to keep his heart hard, Harry found his eyes filling with tears at the genuine welcome from all these familiar faces.

‘Speech!’ shouted someone.

‘Yes, speech!!’ added the rest.

‘Give us a few words, Master Harry, will you?’

Harry turned back to them and cleared his throat. ‘Well, what can I say? Other than thank you for the warmth of your welcome. It’s much appreciated and it’s jolly good to see you all. And thank you for looking after Wharton Park in what I imagine must have been very difficult times.’

Another round of applause broke out. Then Harry glimpsed a cowed figure shuffling across to him. He realised, with a jolt, that the shrunken old man was his father. Rather than let him struggle any further, Harry went over to him and held out his hand. ‘Hello, Father, it’s good to see you.’

His father smiled at him. ‘And you, old chap.’ Christopher used all his strength to pull his son towards him and give him a weak slap on the back. ‘Well done, my boy! I saw your name mentioned in dispatches. I am proud of you.’

Those words were the closest Harry’s father had ever come to praising him. They brought further tears to his eyes.

‘Bet you’re glad to be back, eh what? Hear those blasted Nips gave you boys rather a bad time in Changi. But we saw them off in the end, didn’t we?’

‘We did, Father, we did.’

Adrienne was by Harry’s side. ‘Now, Christopher, I expect that Harry would like to go to his room and rest for a while, after his very long journey.’ She turned to her staff. ‘You may go, and I am sure Harry will be round to speak to each of you later.’

As the staff dispersed, Harry heard a voice in his ear. ‘Glad to see you made it back, sir. I was beginning to wonder.’

It was Bill. They shook hands and slapped each other heartily on the back.

‘Seems a long way away from when we last saw each other, doesn’t it?’ Harry murmured quietly.

‘I should say, sir. And it takes a bit of getting used to, but you’ll get the hang of it, I’m sure.’

‘I’ll pop down and see you later on in the hothouse, Bill. There’s some business I need to discuss with you.’ Harry knew he was in hearing range of both his parents and Olivia so he was brisk about it. ‘Around five, I would say.’

‘Right you are, sir. I’ll be there, a nice cup of tea for both of us, with milk, I might add.’ Bill rolled his eyes as they shared a memory of the raw tea they had drunk for three-and-a-half long years.

Harry followed Olivia up the staircase and along the corridor to their suite of rooms. Everything was exactly as he had left it; as if time had not moved forward at Wharton Park at all.

As soon as Olivia had shut the door behind them, Harry turned to her. ‘Just how sick is my father? He seems to have aged twenty years.’

Olivia sighed and sat down on the stool at the end of the bed. ‘As I told you, he had a serious heart attack. He was lucky to live through it. Remember, Harry, he is sixty, ten years older than your mother. And working at the War Office was jolly stressful for him.’

‘He looks …’ Harry shook his head, ‘dreadful.’

‘He has been very ill. But the doctors reassure us that, as long as he takes it easy and receives no nasty shocks to his system, there is no reason why he cannot remain stable.’

‘I see.’

Harry looked terribly sad, so Olivia went to him and put her arms round his shoulders. ‘I am so awfully sorry, Harry. It must have been a shock for you. I suppose we haven’t noticed his ageing. But I’m sure that having you home will perk up his spirits no end. He can’t wait for you to take him through every second of the campaign in Malaya, and your part in it. He’s been talking about it for weeks.’

Silently, and out of sheer emotional exhaustion, Harry rested his head on Olivia’s shoulder. They stood there for a while, before Olivia said, ‘Why don’t you take a rest? Mrs Jenks is breaking the habit of a lifetime and won’t be serving lunch until half past one, so that you can do so.’

‘Yes, I think I will.’ He desperately needed to be by himself, not necessarily to sleep, but to think.

‘I know this must all seem awfully strange for you, and rather overwhelming, I should imagine,’ Olivia continued. ‘Elsie tells me Bill still finds certain things difficult, even though he’s been at home for three months.’ She kissed him gently on the forehead. ‘I’m not going to crowd you, darling, but just know I am here if you need me.’

‘Thank you.’

Olivia nodded. ‘Get some rest.’ She left the room and walked down the stairs, where Adrienne was waiting for her.

‘I have coffee for us in the library. Come,
chérie
, and tell me how you think he seems.’

Olivia followed her into the library and sat down.

‘Well?’ Adrienne enquired. ‘He certainly looks well, does he not?’

‘Yes, he does,’ Olivia agreed, ‘but, as Elsie described to me, it feels as though his body has arrived home, but his mind is still elsewhere. I think we must be patient, not expect too much of him.’

‘Either of us,’ Adrienne added pointedly.

‘Of course,’ sighed Olivia. ‘I know that. But I am only human, Adrienne, and what I actually wanted was for Harry to spot me waiting, then race down the gangplank and take me into his arms. I saw some of the other chaps do that.’

‘You know that is not Harry’s way,’ Adrienne comforted. ‘Although he was certainly shocked when he saw his father,
n’est ce pas
?’

‘Yes, he was,’ agreed Olivia.

Adrienne shook her head. ‘Of course, he knows so little about all that has happened here in the past four years and what is to come. Olivia, you and I have done our best to run this estate, but we need Harry to take charge as soon as possible.’ Adrienne put a hand to her greying hair. ‘
Alors!
There are decisions to be made, but only Christopher, or Harry, as his heir, can make them. And I do not like to worry Christopher as he is so frail.’

‘I know, Adrienne. At least Harry is home now, and all in one piece.’

‘
Eh, oui
,’ Adrienne raised her coffee cup to her mouth, ‘and I realise we must simply be grateful for that.’

42

Adrienne decided it was warm enough to take lunch on the terrace. Christopher insisted Sable brought up a bottle of vintage champagne from the cellar for the occasion. Mrs Jenks excelled herself, having procured a salmon from goodness knew where, serving it with Harry’s favourite Béarnaise sauce, new potatoes and fresh green beans from the kitchen garden.

‘I was warned you boys don’t like anything too stodgy when you get home,’ said Mrs Jenks, pink with pleasure, when Harry found her in the kitchen after lunch and thanked her for the feast.

Olivia sought him out there and suggested a turn around the garden.

They walked slowly, Harry reacquainting himself with his surroundings. Even he had to admit the park looked magnificent, bathed as it was in the soft mellow glow of a May afternoon.

‘So,’ Harry struggled to make conversation, ‘you say the house was a nursing home for two years?’

‘It was. We had over forty officers at any one time,’ Olivia explained as they walked round the fountain, which had not played since the introduction of a wartime law to save water. ‘The old place was full to the brim because, of course, we had the Land Girls to boot. Mrs Jenks has been a total saint: her experience catering for large numbers of guests stood her in good stead.’

‘Where did you and Mother and Father live?’ Harry asked.

‘Oh, we removed ourselves to the East Wing for the duration. Not exactly luxurious, as you know, but it was somewhere to put our heads down,’ answered Olivia. ‘Your father pretended he hated it. He used to give the officers a jolly good telling off for walking through the house in their dirty boots. But, actually, I think he secretly enjoyed it. After all, he was recovering as well, and he was never short of someone to chat to.’