Tilly True (40 page)

‘Help,' Tilly cried. ‘There's someone trapped in here.' She grabbed a man by the arm, pointing into the carriage and begging him to help, but he did not seem to understand. Staring at her stupidly, he sank to his knees in the dust.

Hesitating for a moment, she knew that there was no one to help them and she could not leave Clem alone in that tangled nightmare. It was like returning to hell, but she had to try and help him. Lowering herself carefully into the compartment, she crawled towards his inert body and was rewarded by a faint groan. ‘Clem. Thank God, you're alive.' With the strength of desperation, Tilly tore at the wreckage until she had cleared a space around Clem's head. The padded squabs had saved him from being crushed but his right leg was trapped and he was bleeding profusely.

Forcing herself to keep calm, Tilly remembered seeing a similar injury on the docks, when a young doctor had been called to the aid of a man whose leg had been all but severed by a moving crane. Taking off her sash, she bound it tightly round Clem's thigh. Tearing her petticoat into strips, she made a pad and laid it gently over the gash in his lower leg where the fractured bones stuck out in jagged points. Having bandaged the wound, Tilly looked up and, for a terrible moment, she thought that Clem had stopped breathing; his face was unnaturally pale and his hand felt cold and clammy. ‘Clem, speak to me.' Chafing his hand, Tilly willed him to live. ‘Clem, please don't die.'

‘Tilly.' Opening his eyes, Clem stared at her with an unfocused gaze.

‘It's all right, Clem. I'm here.' Sobbing with relief, Tilly stroked the hair back from his forehead. ‘Don't try to move. We've had a bit of an accident.'

For what seemed like hours, Tilly stayed by Clem's side, talking to him, soothing and comforting him until help arrived in the form of a train from Delhi bringing a rescue party of soldiers and medical staff. Wrapped in a blanket, Tilly refused to leave the scene until she had witnessed Clem's release.

‘I won't forget what you did for me, Tilly,' Clem said, grinning weakly as the bearers laid him on a stretcher.

‘You'd have done the same for me,' Tilly said. And she knew that it was true. ‘Good luck, Clem.'

Covering him with a blanket, the bearers hefted the stretcher and Clem managed a feeble wave as they carried him off towards the relief train.

‘Where are you taking him?' Tilly asked the young doctor who had attended to Clem's injuries.

‘To the hospital in Delhi, ma'am.'

‘Will he be all right?'

‘Are you his wife?'

Tilly hesitated for a moment. Her relationship with Clem had seemed so easy and natural these days that she had never given it a thought. If Bert was her brother-in-law, then in a roundabout way that must make Clem her nephew. ‘No,' she said slowly. ‘I'm his aunt.'

‘Well, ma'am, your nephew's injuries are serious. He may even lose the leg. If you'll excuse me, there are so many injured.'

‘Yes, of course.' Stunned by the information, Tilly watched Clem being stretchered onto the train with a feeling of inexplicable sadness and loss. If what the doctor had said was true, then Clem would be unfit to remain in the army and he would be sent back to England. The thought of England, London and home brought a sudden rush of tears to her eyes. Her future now was bound to Barney and life as an army wife. She loved Barney, of course she did, and she had wanted so much to see India, but Tilly was engulfed by a wave of homesickness that was even more painful than the cuts and bruises she had sustained in the derailment.

It was late afternoon when the tonga set Tilly down outside the Palgraves' bungalow. The neat, white building looked peaceful and serene in the shade of the date palms and kikar trees, where the small striped Indian chipmunks kept up a cheerful chatter. As she hobbled up the path to the front door, Tilly could hardly believe that it was less than a fortnight since she had left to start her married life with Barney.

Meera opened the door and her eyes widened in horror. ‘Memsahib, what has happened to you?'

‘An accident on the railway, but I'm all right.' Even as she stepped inside, Tilly was aware of raised voices coming from the parlour. Meera raised her hands, shaking her head and sighing. Without waiting to be announced, Tilly opened the door and went in. Harriet and Francis, who had obviously been in the middle of a heated argument, stopped talking to stare at her.

‘There was an accident,' Tilly said, breaking the silence. ‘A derailment.'

‘Are you hurt?' Harriet came slowly towards her, staring at Tilly's bloodstained clothes. ‘Oh dear, just look at the state of you. Have you seen a doctor?'

‘How did you get here?' Francis demanded. ‘Surely you weren't travelling alone? I received a telegram from Colonel Barton stating that you would be accompanied all the way.'

Tilly sank down onto the nearest chair. ‘Please don't fuss. I'm not hurt.'

‘Heaven help us all if the army cannot look after its own,' Francis said, pacing the floor. ‘As if I have not had enough shocking news for one day, and now this.'

Harriet turned on him angrily. ‘Francis, it's not Tilly's fault.'

‘No, I blame Barnaby. He's always been feckless and irresponsible. He can't even look after his own wife. I'm going to my study and I don't want to be disturbed.' With a withering glance in Tilly's direction, Francis left the room, slamming the door behind him.

‘What's up with him? It wasn't my fault that the train came off the rails.'

‘Francis didn't mean it,' Harriet said, wringing her hands. ‘It's just that we've had terrible news today. Our brother Adolphus was killed in a hunting accident.'

‘I'm so sorry.'

‘Yes, it's dreadfully sad. I was fond of Dolph. But even worse than that, Tilly. Francis insists on returning home to England.'

Tilly's head was aching as if small demons with picks were hammering inside her temples. Her whole body was sore and it was difficult to think straight. ‘He'd want to pay his last respects.'

‘If only it were that simple. You don't understand. Dolph only has daughters and that means Francis has inherited the title and the estate. He says he was never cut out for the ministry or to be a teacher and he's going home for good. That means I'll be separated from Ronnie, whose father won't allow us even to become engaged. My life is in ruins, Tilly.'

Watching Harriet pacing the floor, totally immersed in her own problems, Tilly thought of Clem lying in hospital seriously injured, his life endangered and his career in jeopardy. She thought of Barney, far away fighting on the North-West Frontier, who might easily be killed in action and knew nothing of her plight. Suddenly, Harriet's problems seemed trivial and selfish. Brushing her hand across her forehead, Tilly got to her feet. ‘I'm very tired. If you don't mind, Hattie, I'll go to my room.'

‘Yes, yes, of course. Ring for Meera and she'll look after you.'

As Tilly went to leave the room, Harriet ran up to her, catching her by the hand. ‘You will help me, won't you, Tilly? You and I could stay on here together while you wait for Barney to arrange married quarters. And I can still see Ronnie. Maybe his father will relent if he realises that we really, truly love each other.'

Tilly patted her hand. ‘I'll see what I can do. I'm not leaving and that's for certain.'

Alone in her room, with Meera having gone to fetch salve and to instruct the pani-wallah to bring hot water, Tilly sat on the edge of her bed, staring at her battered reflection in a hand mirror. There was a nasty-looking gash on her forehead and by morning she would have a black eye. With everything that had happened recently, she had almost forgotten the date. It was just two weeks until Christmas and today was her twentieth birthday.

‘Not leaving!' Francis stared at Tilly as if she had said something blasphemous. ‘You can't remain in Delhi on your own.'

‘But Francis, Tilly wouldn't be alone if I was allowed to stay too. We could live together until Barney has time to arrange proper married quarters.' Harriet glanced anxiously at Tilly. ‘You would chaperone me, wouldn't you?'

‘Yes, of course,' Tilly said, looking Francis in the eye. ‘Barney will send for me as soon as he returns to the cantonment.'

‘And where would you live in the meantime?'

‘Here, of course,' Harriet said. ‘We would have Meera and the servants to look after us and the Cholmondeleys are only a short tonga ride away.'

‘This bungalow belongs to the Missionary Society. You can't stay here and there really is no alternative other than for you both to accompany me back to England. I've sent a telegram to Barney's commanding officer in Rawalpindi asking him to get word to him as a matter of extreme urgency. If we don't get a positive reply by the due sailing date then you will have to come with us, Tilly. I'm going to the shipping office this morning to book our passage.'

‘You are mean and horrible and I hate you.' Flouncing out of the dining room, Hattie slammed the door.

‘You can't do this to me, Francis,' Tilly said quietly. ‘I'm married to your brother and I won't leave without him.'

‘I'm the head of the family now and you'll do as I say. Believe me, Tilly, it's for your own good. You don't know Barnaby as I know him.'

With Harriet at the Cholmondeleys', no doubt weeping on Susannah's shoulder, and Francis having gone to the shipping office, Tilly decided that she must visit Clem at the hospital. She donned a straw hat with a veil in an attempt to conceal her cuts and black eye, and sent Ashok to find a tonga. As usual, Meera insisted that Ashok should accompany her and they set off together for the hospital.

Clem was in a large ward, his bed being situated at the far end. He appeared to be sleeping as Tilly approached his bedside, but, seeming to sense her presence, he opened his eyes and gave her a drowsy smile.

‘You must not stay long,' the nurse said, pulling up a chair for Tilly. ‘Private Tuffin has only just come round from the anaesthetic and he needs rest and quiet.'

‘Thank you,' Tilly said, sitting primly on the edge of the chair. ‘How are you, Clem?'

‘Better for seeing you.'

‘Does it hurt?'

‘Not much.'

Tilly smiled. ‘I don't believe you.'

‘What's up?'

Taken by surprise, Tilly shook her head. ‘Nothing.'

‘Come on, Tilly. This is Clem you're talking to. I know you and I can see that something's upset you.'

Biting her lip, Tilly thought about lying, but the shrewd look in Clem's eyes convinced her that he would see through a well-intentioned fib, and she told him everything that had happened after she returned to the bungalow. To her immense surprise, Clem agreed with Francis.

‘You can't mean it, Clem.'

‘If you was my wife I'd never have left you to fend for yourself. Go back to England. You and me don't fit in with the toffs, Tilly. Take my advice and go back home where you belong.'

‘You're just saying that because I married Barney and not you.'

‘I'm saying it because I care about you. I care what happens to you, Tilly, and I can't bear to see you neglected.'

Biting back an angry retort, Tilly patted his hand. ‘I know you mean well, but Barney is a good husband and none of this was his fault.'

‘If you say so.'

Tilly could see that he was unconvinced, but Clem was obviously in pain and she had not the heart to argue with him. ‘The most important thing is for you to get better.'

‘I'm finished in the army, Tilly. No one wants a cripple.'

Curling her fingers around his hand, Tilly gave it a gentle squeeze. ‘That's the laudanum talking, not the Clem Tuffin I know. I've seen you in action and you weren't afraid of nothing when you took on the Old Stairs gang.'

Clem smiled drowsily. ‘That was a long time ago.'

‘Not so long, and you'll soon get well again.' Tilly could see that he was drifting off into a drugged sleep and she laid his hand back on the coverlet. ‘Don't look now but Florence Nightingale has her eye on us, so I'd best go.'

With her starched apron rustling, the nurse bore down on them. ‘We must let Private Tuffin get his rest.'

Getting to her feet, Tilly brushed Clem's forehead with a kiss. ‘I may not be able to come again, but I hope everything goes well for you.'

Clem gave her a sleepy smile. ‘Goodbye, Tilly True.'

Francis returned from the shipping office having obtained three tickets for a ship sailing for London on the thirtieth of December. Harriet went into hysterics and shut herself in her room and Tilly, accompanied by Ashok, went to the telegraph office to send her own message to Barney. Every day she waited for a reply and every day she went to bed disappointed. Colonel Barton had replied to the original telegram by return, confirming that a message had been sent to Barney at the hill station, but since then there had been no word.

On Christmas Eve, Tilly went again to the hospital only to be informed that Clem had been moved to the military hospital at Meerut. Clutching the present she had bought for him, a silk handkerchief that she had purchased in the bazaar at the Red Fort, Tilly returned to the bungalow feeling even more isolated and alone than before. There was still no word from Barney and now she was beginning to think that he did not want her to join him. Time was running out and in less than a week she would be on her way home.

Quite unexpectedly, Tilly wanted to go home; she wanted to be with her family especially at Christmas. Lying beneath the mosquito netting on her narrow white bed, she dreamed of fogbound London and the shops brightly lit by naphtha flares, their windows piled high with rosy-cheeked Cox's apples, dimpled oranges, walnuts, Kentish cobnuts, and pineapples for those rich enough to buy them. There would be bunches of red-berried holly and milky-berried mistletoe and street vendors selling hot chestnuts and baked potatoes from glowing braziers. On Christmas morning there would be shrieks from the younger children as they plunged their hands into socks filled with an orange, a couple of walnuts, an apple, and, if times were good, there would be a small gift – maybe a wooden doll for the girls and a tin whistle for the boys. If times were hard, then maybe it would be just an apple and a few boiled sweets.