Time for Silence (22 page)

“You mean I might come to Marchlands? Nothing could help me more to make a speedy recovery.”

“Then we shall do what we can to arrange it. I daresay Gerald could do something. He can fix most things.”

“From henceforth I shall make myself a nuisance here, so that they will be only too glad to get rid of me.”

I did not think that would be the case. It was clear that that inimitable charm worked here as everywhere else and the nurses enjoyed looking after him.

The matron came in while we were there—a stern-faced, middle-aged woman who looked as though she would be capable of keeping a regiment in order—and even she softened and chided him gently because he was getting too excited.

Our visit was not a long one, but it was the maximum time allowed.

I felt a little uneasy as we left the ward, for I was sure Marcus was putting on a show of being in a much better condition than he actually was.

My mother was able to have a word with the doctor before we left. Marchlands was now known in the medical world as one of those country houses given over to the wounded since the beginning of the war, and therefore a certain respect was accorded her.

We were taken into a small room, and seated at a desk was Dr. Glenning.

He told us to be seated, and my mother then said, “Major Merrivale is a very special friend. How badly has he been wounded?”

“Well, there are worse cases.”

“And better,” added my mother.

The doctor nodded. “Some internal injuries. A bullet—most fortunately—just missed his lungs. The bullet has been extracted, but as you know, it is a vital area and we have to be watchful. There is some damage to the right leg. But that is minor compared with the internal trouble.”

“I see. He is not…in danger?”

The doctor shook his head to and fro. “Oh, he’s got a good chance of recovery. He’s very strong…in excellent condition. I’d say his chances of getting back to normal are good, but it is going to take time.”

“My daughter and I were thinking that Marchlands would be a good place for him to come for convalescence. We were wondering if the major could come to us.”

“I could not allow him to be moved just now, and this is going to be a long job. Later…if he continues to improve…I don’t see why not. He’s going to need convalescence, and to be among friends would be good for him. Yes, I think in due course, Mrs. Greenham, he might well go to Marchlands.”

“And…he really is not in danger…?? I put in.

“No more than most. We’re never quite sure how these things are going to turn out. You probably know, Mrs. Greenham….But I would say he has a fair chance of recovery.”

“That’s good news,” said my mother. “Have you any idea about when…?”

The doctor pursed his lips and looked thoughtful.

“Well, I should think at least a couple of months.”

“As long as that!”

“Rather a grave injury, Mrs. Greenham.”

“Well, we shall look forward to receiving him at Marchlands. Will you let us know when it will be safe for him to come?”

“Indeed I will do that.”

“In the meanwhile we shall be visiting him. We came up especially today.”

“Marchlands keeps you busy, I’ve heard.”

“Very busy all the time.”

“We’ve had a rush of casualties after the Dardanelles debacle. Not that there are not a large number coming from France all the time.”

“Let’s hope it will soon be over.”

“I’d second that, Mrs. Greenham.”

He shook hands and repeated his promise that he would let us know when Marcus was well enough to travel, and we left the hospital in a happier mood than that in which we had arrived.

We had seen him. He was ill, but not so ill that he would not recover—and in time he would come to Marchlands.

Returning to Marchlands, I felt a sense of elation. I realized I was happier than I had been since the ill-fated Dardanelles venture had begun. I had been thinking about Marcus a great deal and every time the campaign had been mentioned, I had been conscious of a cold fear. Now it was over. He was wounded, yes; but he was still alive, and with his irrepressible spirits he would recover.

And in time we should have him under our care in Marchlands.

My mother sensed my mood and shared it.

“He is such a charming man,” she said. “I could not bear to think of anything happening to change him. He’ll recover quicker than most. Since the hospital started, I’ve noticed that optimism is one of the best cures to help a patient along the road to recovery.”

Andrée was eager to hear the news of Marcus, but I could see she wanted to get back to Marchlands and Edward. She hated leaving him even for a day.

It was about a week after our visit to London when I was awakened in the night by the sound of an explosion. My thoughts immediately went to the Zeppelin I had seen when the cottage near
La Pinière
had been attacked. We had to expect air raids. The Zeppelins were cumbersome objects and good targets for a firing squad, but they did present a great danger.

I leaped out of bed, put on my dressing gown and slippers and went out of my room.

Immediately I heard my mother’s voice. “Lucinda…are you all right? Charles…?”

Charles was already in the corridor. Some of the servants were there and I saw Miss Carruthers.

“That was a bomb, I am sure,” she said. “It must have been rather close.”

Mrs. Grey, the cook, had appeared.

“What was it, do you think, Mrs. Grey?” asked my mother.

“Sounded just like one of them bombs, Mrs. Greenham.”

“I’m afraid so. I wonder…”

We all gathered in the hall where some of the nurses joined us.

“What time is it?” asked my mother.

“Just after midnight,” someone replied.

“Do you think it’s an air raid?”

“Most likely.”

“I can’t hear anything more. Do you think they’ll come back?”

“Perhaps.”

Mrs. Grey said she thought everyone could do with a cup of tea and if we would like to go to the drawing room, she’d have it sent there. The others could have theirs in the kitchen.

My mother thought that was a good idea. Everything seemed quiet now and we should hear all about it in the morning.

Miss Carruthers said, “We must be prepared for any emergency. One only hopes they will not drop anything on the hospital.”

“They would drop anything anywhere,” said my mother. “Charles, come away from that window. You never know…”

Reluctantly, Charles moved away.

“I’d like to fly,” he said. “Fancy being up there in the sky!”

“Not dropping bombs on people, I hope,” I said.

“Oh…I wouldn’t do that.”

“Very noble of you,” I retorted.

“I’m going to join the Royal Flying Corps.”

Nobody expressed surprise. Charles was going to take up some new adventurous profession every few weeks.

Nothing much happened that night, but we were astonished the next morning to learn that it was not a Zeppelin which had dropped the bomb. What we had heard was an explosion that had taken place at Milton Priory.

We learned it from the postman. Jenner, the butler, had spoken to him when he came with the post and thought what the man had to tell was so interesting that he brought him into the dining room where we were having breakfast.

“I thought you would like to hear what the postman has to say, Mrs. Greenham,” he said. “It’s about that explosion in the night.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said the postman. “It’s up at the old Priory…that place where things have been going on lately. They won’t be putting that up for sale now. Looks as if they’s destroyed the place…completely.”

“How could it have happened?” asked my mother.

“Well, there’s a mystery for you. Something was wrong. Gas perhaps. You know what that can do. Whatever it might be, that’s the end of Milton Priory.”

“How very strange!” said Miss Carruthers. “I wonder what the explanation is?”

“No doubt we shall find out in time,” said my mother.

When I saw Andrée, she said, “I heard the explosion in the night.”

“You should have joined us in the drawing room,” I told her. “We did not get to bed until about an hour later. We just sat there talking and speculating as to what might have happened. We all thought then that it had been dropped by a Zeppelin.”

“Was it?”

“No. Apparently not. It was caused by something in the house…gas, they say.”

“How dreadful! I didn’t come down because it had awakened Edward. He was a bit fretful. I couldn’t leave him.”

“Yes. I guessed that. Was he frightened?”

“Just a bit. I soothed him and finally he got to sleep.”

“I expect we shall hear more about this explosion.”

“I’d like to take a look at it.”

“Perhaps when Edward is having his nap, we could ride over.”

We did. The police were at the scene. We rode as close as we could. It was a sight to shock…twisted girders, collapsed walls, piles of bricks…where once that rather lovely old house had stood.

“There’s little left of it,” said Andrée with a shiver.

“They’ll never sell it now.”

“It’s a complete ruin,” went on Andrée. “Have they any idea yet how it happened?”

“I expect they will soon find out. I wonder who the owners are?”

“Didn’t someone buy it recently?”

“I’m not sure whether it was sold or being prepared for a sale.”

“Well, whatever it was, that’s the end of it.”

We rode back no wiser.

Later we heard that the explosion was due to a leakage of gas.

My father arrived later that afternoon.

He went over to look at the Priory. He met some official there and, as a Member of Parliament, I suppose, was allowed to go over the remains of the house. It occurred to me that the man might be from one of the ministries, and my father, because the Priory was situated in his constituency, had come down to investigate the mystery.

I thought he looked distinctly worried.

Two of the men with whom he had been at the Priory came to dine with us. And at the dinner table it became clear that my father and his guests did not want to talk about the explosion.

However, the rest of us—my mother, Miss Carruthers, Dr. Edgerton and myself—could not easily dismiss the matter, which was uppermost in our droughts.

“Lucinda was very curious about the Priory when she saw how changed it was,” my mother was saying. “That was some time ago. We had all made up our minds that it must have been one of those horrible Zeppelins.”

“We can’t be sure that it was not,” said my father.

“Oh, no, Joel,” protested my mother. “Those things are so huge. They just seem to hang in the sky. Someone would have seen it.”

“It is just possible that it quickly dropped the bomb and got away.”

“But the explosion was so loud,” I said. “People nearby would go out to look. It couldn’t have got away so quickly without being seen.”

“Well then, perhaps it was not a Zeppelin.”

“I’ve just thought of something,” I said. “There’s no gas at Milton Priory. How could there be? Nobody ever put it in.”

“They must have been putting it in now,” replied my father.

“If they were, surely we should have known,” I said. “No, it wasn’t gas. It wasn’t dropped from the air. So what was it? What a mystery! No doubt we shall find out sooner or later. How I should love to know! It’s really very intriguing. I shan’t rest until I find out.”

“Well,” said my father, “in the words of our Prime Minister, we must ‘wait and see.’ ”

It was the following day. I had just finished my session with Miss Carruthers, and as I came out of the schoolroom I saw my mother on the stairs.

“Lucinda, I wanted to talk to you,” she said.

“Yes?”

“Come into my sitting room. I don’t want anyone to hear.”

I was eager to learn what she had to say, and when we reached her room she shut the door and, looking at me anxiously, said, “Sit down.”

I did so, very puzzled.

“Lucinda,” she began. “This is very important. It is also secret. But your father and I know you will be discreet; after all, you are no longer a child.”

I waited apprehensively as she paused, for she was staring ahead, frowning.

“I know you have been aware of the fact for a long time that your father is…well, something more than an ordinary Member of Parliament.”

“Yes…vaguely. He does go off sometimes, and I know you are a little anxious when he does, and there is, of course, the implication that no questions should be asked.”

“I wish he were not engaged in all this secrecy. I’m always afraid he will come to some harm. It could have ruined our lives in the beginning, when he was engaged in secret work and I thought he was dead. I married…” She shook her head. “If he had been here, it would have been so different.”

“I do know something about that.”

I guessed this preamble was because she was trying to make up her mind to tell me what all this was about.

“Your father is doing a wonderful job for the country,” she went on. “He has never taken Cabinet rank because of this work. It would not be possible for a minister to do what he is doing. So…he just sits in Parliament. Well, that is a Greenham tradition, and he had to follow it. But it’s all part of the same thing. It’s working for the country.”

“Yes, I know.”

“There is a matter which has come up. He is going to tell you about it himself. He was reluctant to, but we both thought it best. He asked me to…well, prepare you, as it were. I think he wants to be sure that it will be all right to take you into this secret. In fact he thinks it might be necessary to.”

“What is this secret?”

“He is going to tell you. We were discussing it last night and we came to the conclusion that it is the best way. Your father thought at first that you were too young, but, well, everything that has been happening lately has jerked you out of your childhood. You’ll understand and do all you can to help, I know. I’ve convinced him of this. He’s in his study now. Let’s go to him.”

My father was waiting for us.

“Here she is,” said my mother. “We can rely on Lucinda. She understands.”

“Sit down, my dear,” said my father. “This must sound very mysterious to you.”