Candles in the Storm (51 page)

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Authors: Rita Bradshaw

Tags: #Romance, #Sagas, #Historical, #Fiction

BOOK: Candles in the Storm
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Above her head she heard William say, ‘I told him he should stay at home and look after Greyfriar but he insisted on coming with me.’
 
‘Your father would have expected me to serve you as I did him, Sir William.’ Kirby was speaking in his normal obsequious tone but his eyes were fixed on Daisy. She stared at the valet and he stared back, and it came to her then in a flash of intuition that the man was expecting her to give him away. Something in his eyes told her so. Their expression reminded her of a dog one of the travelling tinkers who used to call at the fishing village selling trinkets had had. Skin and bone that dog had been, and when she had taken pity on it and tried to give it a ham shank she had got bitten for her trouble.
 
The tinker had appeared as the dog had gone for her, saying, ‘You leave ’im alone, you. Bin taught to refuse food from strangers, ’e ’as, so’s ’e don’t get ’imself poisoned like me last dog. Taught ’im, I ’ave.’ Daisy hadn’t asked how, but it couldn’t have been pleasant because the animal was clearly starving but unable to trust any show of kindness. She had cried herself to sleep over the look in the dog’s eyes, and when Tom had risked getting bitten later that night and untied the scrawny creature from the tinker’s caravan, taking it to old Ma Stratton who lived in the woods Boldon way and had the reputation of being a witch but wonderful with animals, she’d been nice to her brother for a whole week.
 
Before she could reconsider, Daisy said, ‘I was sorry to hear about Sir Augustus, Mr Kirby. I know you had been with him for a very long time and you must be upset.’
 
The man continued staring at her without speaking for a second or two, and there was both amazement and embarrassment in his eyes now. Then it was almost as if he deflated before her eyes. He swallowed twice before saying, ‘Thank you, Miss Appleby. Yes, I served the master for a long time.’ He turned to William, saying, ‘I will see to the bags and tickets, sir.’
 
‘Thank you, Kirby.’
 
Once the valet was walking away, his back stiff and straight once more, William turned his head to the side, saying in an undertone, ‘The damnedest thing, Kirby insisting on coming with me like this. Frankly the last thing I want is a batman, but the fellow got quite distressed when I tried to put him off.’
 
‘He needs you.’
 
‘What?’ And then before she could reply, William said, ‘Oh, what are we wasting time on him for? Come and sit with me, my darling. You will write, won’t you? Every day? Ten times a day?’
 
‘A hundred.’ She smiled back at him as he drew her over to one of the station benches.
 
‘We haven’t discussed anything of importance. Do you want children? But of course you do, you’re that sort of woman.’
 
‘What sort?’
 
‘Soft, warm, beautiful, good . . .’
 
‘Do
you
want children?’ she interrupted him, laughing softly.
 
‘Lots. I want to fill Greyfriar with them so they get into all the cobwebbed corners and bring new life with none of the formality I was brought up in.’
 
Greyfriar. Daisy felt a chill strike her before she brushed it away. Of course he would expect her to live at the Hall, it was his home. But that house and its army of servants . . . And then it came to her, in a blinding flash, and Daisy being Daisy she had to speak out straightaway. ‘Do you really want to fill Greyfriar?’ she said. ‘Because there are going to be children of all ages who will need a home after the war, even if it is just for a few weeks at a time for some of them, to give a break to mothers who have lost husbands. We . . . we could do something for them.’
 
‘What a marvellous idea.’ He touched her mouth with one finger. ‘Think about it until we are together again.’
 
‘Oh, William.’ Something in his voice made a shiver flicker down her spine. Both the men she loved, Tommy and William, out there in all the mayhem . . .
 
For the rest of the time until the train chugged into the station they sat very close together, talking softly and kissing now and again.
 
Kirby magically reappeared as the train drew to a halt although they hadn’t been aware of his presence before then, and Daisy found she couldn’t let go of William. He was very gentle as he dried her face with a crisp white handkerchief, tucking it in her pocket as he said, ‘I’ll collect it when I return, all right, darling? When I return.’
 
‘Oh, William, William.’
 
He had to put her from him and get into the carriage, the door closing behind Kirby and the bags just as the train began to move. For a crazy moment Daisy wanted to run after it. William was going and she didn’t know if she would ever see him again. It wasn’t fair. Sixteen years, and then they had barely had twenty-four hours together. It wasn’t
fair
. None of it was fair. How could God let it happen like this?
 
She stood there long after the sound of the train had faded away, one hand pressed tightly over her mouth and the other resting on William’s brooch. She might have remained there longer such was her state of mind, but a voice saying, ‘You all right, lass?’ brought her out of the whirling panic. She glanced quickly at the young man who had spoken to her, intending to nod and walk away, but then her eyes returned to the empty sleeve tucked into the pocket of his jacket and stayed there.
 
She had to drag her gaze away to look him in the eye and say, ‘Yes, thank you. I . . . I’m all right. I was just . . . seeing someone off.’
 
‘Aye.’ He nodded. ‘I saw. A captain no less. Rum ’un, this war, ain’t it, lass? Don’t matter if you’re in the ranks or an officer, there’s still family at the back of you. Mind, I’m out of it now after copping this little lot.’ He nodded to the empty sleeve. ‘I was a miner afore I joined up so it’s put paid to that. Funny thing, when I come round in the hospital the main worry on me mind was how me an’ the wife’d manage, but do you know what she said? She’d rather have me alive an’ home with one arm than out there with two. She meant it an’ all. Canny lass, me wife.’
 
Daisy smiled a little shakily. ‘I’m sure she is and I know exactly how she felt.’ She said goodbye and began walking. One arm, and he couldn’t have been more than twenty-one or two. And there would be so many who would come home minus limbs, perhaps blinded or driven out of their minds. Even more who wouldn’t come home at all. But William would.
He would
. She had to believe that, like she did with Tommy, or else she’d go stark staring mad. And William had Kirby with him now. If nothing else the valet would try to make his master’s life as comfortable as he could.
 
Her hand went to her mouth again as she thought, Will Kirby try to poison William’s mind against me? Would it have been better to say something, to have it all out once and for all? But how could she have done, with William about to leave for France and Kirby with him? But it wasn’t really that. She had felt sorry for the man, just like the tinker’s dog. Kirby would be thrilled to bits if he knew of the comparison! A dart of humour pierced the blackness for a moment. Ma Stratton had got the dog round fine, it had been a good-natured animal at heart. As for Josiah Kirby - she just hoped it wasn’t a case of extending the hand of friendship only to have it bitten off. But it was too late now. She couldn’t change what had occurred on the platform although in hindsight she had to admit she had followed her heart rather than her head. Still, she had enough to worry about with both William and Tommy over the water. She didn’t need to anticipate trouble.
 
The last remnants of sunshine were dappling High Street West when Daisy emerged from the station. She stood for a moment looking about her. Everything seemed the same. The same shops, the same busy crowds, the same barefoot urchins darting here and there.
 
She breathed deeply, willing herself to start walking as though this was just another fine summer evening. She supposed she ought to count her blessings that her three brothers were too old to be caught in the latest net of conscription which had been extended to cover all men between the ages of eighteen and forty-one, regardless of their marital status. She knew Kitty was worried out of her wits that Alf might be called up soon. They had said the war would be over by Christmas when it had started, so what had gone wrong?
 
But the war couldn’t go on for ever. She walked faster now, her chin lifting as it always did when she was telling herself to buck up. One day Tommy and William would come home, and if things worked out Tommy might never have to go back to that noisy, dirty machine shop. Unless he wanted to, of course. He could join them at Greyfriar Hall; they would need all the help they could get to make the place into a working children’s home.
 
It was that night that Daisy first lit the two candles. She placed them in the window, whispering, ‘One for each of them, God. Guide them safely home. And let them know how much I love them.’
 
 
On 31 May seven thousand British sailors were lost when Dreadnought fleets clashed at Jutland, causing the sea to be awash with bodies. But it was the sinking of the
Hampshire
on 5 June with Kitchener on board which caused a pall of grief and dismay to descend on the British people. He had been the ordinary man’s hero, and England went into mourning.
 
Towards the end of June William was called to operational headquarters. On his return, Josiah took one look at his young master’s face and feared the worst. ‘Sir?’ He paused in his task of pressing William’s trousers. They might be in the thick of it but Sir William’s uniform would always be immaculate while Josiah had breath in his body.
 
‘We’re in the hands of lunatics, Kirby.’ William brushed a weary hand across his face. ‘It’s the Somme. Damn it, the least intelligent strategist can see there’s nothing to be gained on the Somme. Victory will merely free the Germans from an awkward salient, or, if we’re too successful, saddle us with one of our own.’
 
Josiah nodded. He didn’t understand the ins and outs of it all like the master, but he trusted Sir William’s judgement more than the old generals in their bath chairs. Always a man of few words, he said, ‘When, sir?’
 
‘We start now. You’re coming with me in the staff car. See to things, would you?’
 
Within an hour they were on their way, the car passing soldiers making for the front, heavily laden with their packs but marching at a smart, swinging pace, some singing music-hall tunes accompanied here and there by a mouth organ. They were heading towards the points of flame stabbing the darkness where British shells were falling.
 
Josiah sat very still in the vehicle which bumped and jolted along, the motor cycles of despatch riders passing it now and again. It was hard to believe he had only been out here with the young master for a matter of weeks. It seemed like months, years, an eternity. Once there had been another life but it seemed unreal now, the blood and guts of the last weeks wiping it away.
 
Now, he was surprised he had ever been concerned about Mr William having a fancy for the fishergirl. Mind, the last time he had seen her she hadn’t looked the same as the fierce little upstart he remembered. He had looked at Daisy Appleby on that platform and she had seemed a woman of presence with a self-possessed air about her, aloof and cool. Until she had seen Mr William that was. Then her face had lit up. It still pained him to remember how her face had lit up. Certainly May had never looked at him like that in all the time he’d known her. Perhaps that should have told him something? But he had let go of May now, in his head. What was the point of holding on when he would be dead soon? And he was going to die, they all were. No one could survive this butchery. So it didn’t matter about May or the fishergirl, the only thing which was important was staying alive as long as Sir William and serving the young master right to the end.
 
It was probably better it was going to end out here in France because he couldn’t have stood by and done nothing if Mr William had persisted with this notion of marrying a girl from the common people. There had been enough disgrace to the family name with his mother insisting on the divorce and then up and marrying a French count before the paper was even dry. But at least she had made a new life for herself in France and was out of the way, unlike the fishergirl. No, he would have had to step in and, strangely, it would have given him no pleasure, not since the incident on the railway platform. The fishergirl had shown herself to be kind there and kindness was a rare commodity in a woman, or so he had found.
 
The car catapulted into the air a few inches, courtesy of a large pothole, and Josiah heard Sir William swear profusely.
 
The last of the Frasers he would be, which was a shame. A great shame. A grand old name which Josiah had been proud to serve would die with him. This damn’ awful war . . .
 
 
At 7.30 the next morning the artillery barrage was lifted and the British went over the top in regular waves. In the first five minutes of the battle thousands of British men and lads were cut down by relentless German fire. The enemy’s machine guns mowed men and officers down in rows, and the German defences were formidable and deep.

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