Flight of the Jabiru (45 page)

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

December, 1942

Lara walked into the White Lodge hospital, not knowing what to expect. It was snowing outside and she was shivering. She'd arrived in Newmarket just hours earlier by bus from Sheffield, and gone straight home to change into warm clothing. It felt strange to be bundled up in layers of warm garments again, but nice to be able to wear something more than just loose dresses. She felt stylish for the first time since leaving England in May.

When Lara found her father's room, she was surprised to see a woman at his bedside. Walter appeared to be resting. At just a glance he looked terribly frail, but she also noticed his hair was still unruly and badly needed cutting. Lara entered the room quietly, so not to disturb him, but the woman became aware of her presence, and turned to face her. Lara noticed she was wearing an employee's identification badge but she wasn't a nurse. A keen eye observed the few silver highlights in her blond hair and her vivid blue eyes. Her face was kindly and still attractive for someone Lara estimated to be in her fifties.

“Hello,” Lara whispered. “Is my father sleeping?”

The woman looked startled, but she quickly composed herself. “Hello,” she said in a soft voice. “Yes, he's asleep. I don't know when he'll wake up, but I'll go and let you have some time with him.” She went to stand up, but Lara stopped her, not wanting to chase her away.

“Before you leave, could you tell me anything about dad's condition? I've just come back into the country and I haven't had a chance to talk to a doctor yet.”

The woman thought Lara looked weary. “Oh, Walter is quite ill with pneumonia. He's been in hospital for quite a few weeks this time.”

“This time? Has he been in before?”

“He told me he was admitted earlier in the year, too. This time his condition is far more serious, Lara. He's been stable for a couple of weeks, but he's not really making any improvement.”

“Thank you. How did you know my name?”

The woman looked slightly panicked. “Your father told me,” she said, relaxing.

“Of course. You must be a friend of dads, but I don't think we've ever met.”

“I'm Elsie ... Elsie Fox. I work in the flower shop downstairs. I knew your father many years ago. I had a flower delivery for him and recognized his name. He doesn't have many visitors, so I've been stopping by when I can.”

“I'm sure he appreciates the company, so thank you.”

“It's no trouble,” Elsie said. “May I ask where you've come from? You mentioned you were out of the country.”

“I've been teaching in Australia.”

“Oh, you're a teacher.”

Lara thought Elsie seemed genuinely interested. “Yes, I taught in Newmarket before going overseas to work.”

“I hope you weren't in the north of Australia when it was bombed by the Japs.”

Lara glanced at Walter, but thought it was safe to talk, as he was asleep. “I was in the city of Darwin on the day of the first attack,” she said softly.

Elsie's eyes widened. “That must've been terrifying.”

“It was the worst day of my life. I saw things that I'll never forget.”

“I'm sorry.”

“I was one of the lucky people who survived unscathed, when many didn't. I'm worried about dad,” Lara said, studying his features. He looked much older than the last time she saw him. “Does he know the Japs bombed Darwin?”

“He hasn't said anything, but I'm sure he does. I have to leave now. It was lovely meeting you, Lara. Maybe I'll see you again.”

“Most likely,” Lara smiled as Elsie left the room.

Lara sat beside her father, holding his hand for about half an hour before he opened his eyes. He looked at her for a full minute without saying anything, as if trying to work out whether she was real or not.

“Hello, Dad,” Lara whispered, her eyes brimming with tears.

“Lara!” Walter squeezed her hand. “I was dreaming I heard your voice, but it wasn't a dream...”

“No, Dad, it wasn't a dream. I've come home to be with you.”

“Lara, my baby girl,” Walter said fondly, his eyes also filling with unshed tears. “How did you know I was in hospital?”

“Mrs. Brown wrote to me, Dad, but don't be angry with her. I've been so worried about you and hoping every day for a letter that never came.”

“I'm sorry, I couldn't write. But I've been worried about you, too. I nearly went out of my mind when I heard the Japs bombed Darwin.”

“You didn't have to worry about me, Dad. I was living eighty miles out of the city, so I was safe.” She didn't think there was any point telling him the truth while he was so sick.

“I got your letter about becoming engaged, Lara. I'm so happy for you, darling. Something good came of going over there.”

Lara fought to control her emotions, but it was harder than she expected.

Walter could see that something was wrong. “Didn't your young man come to England with you?”

“No, Dad, he didn't come with me. I wrote you another letter, but you mustn't have got it yet. Rick was ... killed by a crocodile a few months ago.”

“Oh, Lara,” Walter said, distressed.

“I'm all right, Dad. I'm just glad to be home with you.” Tears rolled down her cheeks. “I've missed you so much.”

Walter coughed and struggled to breathe, so Lara gave him a sip of water from a glass beside his bed.

“What about your sentence, Lara?” Walter gasped. “You're not supposed to be in England.”

Lara could see he was distressed and worried. “Don't worry about that, Dad. I'll speak to Judge Mitchell if I have to. I'm sure everything will be fine. You rest and concentrate on getting better so you can come home.”

Walter didn't look reassured. Lara noticed just talking for a few minutes had really tired him out. He was struggling to keep his eyes open.

Lara sat with her dad for an hour while he slept, thinking about what might happen if Lord Hornsby found out she was back in England. In the end she decided she didn't care. Her father was all that mattered and Lord Hornsby had to know how ill he was.

Lara was still sitting beside her dad when Beryl Brown came in. She was nearly seventy, but quite spritely for her age with a sharp mind.

“You're here!” Beryl said in amazement.

“Yes, I got into town a few hours ago. I went home and got some warm clothes because I'm not used to the cold anymore. I knocked on your door, but there was no answer, so I came straight to the hospital. I was so worried about dad. He's sleeping at the moment.”

“He sleeps a lot these days,” Beryl said. “I visit my sister every Friday. She lives not far from here, so I pop in to see Walter at the same time.”

“How is Wendy?” Lara asked.

“She's not well, either.”

“I'm sorry to hear that.”

“She's been in and out of hospital. She's home at the moment, thankfully Maybe now you're here, your dad will get better,” she said.

“Thank you for writing to me, Beryl. I'm so glad you did.”

“As I said, your dad asked me not to, but you had to know he was ill. His condition was further complicated because he only has one kidney. I couldn't live with myself if I hadn't told you and something happened to him. Was it hard getting home with the war on?”

“It wasn't easy. I had to travel by car from Shady Camp, which was eighty miles outside Darwin, to Alice Springs, a distance of a thousand miles.”

“That's a long way,” Beryl commented, making herself comfortable on the chair that Lara had just vacated.

“It felt like four thousand miles,” Lara said. “The road was muddy and mostly potholes full of water, so I felt every awful mile. We got bogged a few times as it's the wet season in the Territory. Luckily a few trucks were passing and they pulled us out. Actually, calling the Stuart Highway a road is an exaggeration. Once we finally arrived in Alice Springs I had to wait for a week to catch a plane out. The only one available was a troop carrier that was allowed to take a handful of civilians. We made numerous stops and detours before arriving in England and stopped in Calcutta to refuel. What a place that was, the poverty, the noise and millions and millions of people. I was never so glad to see the cliffs of Dover.”

“I bet you were,” Beryl said, thinking the journey had been horrendous.

“We were supposed to land at the Wyton Air base in Cambridgeshire, but we couldn't because the base was on high alert, so we were diverted to a tiny airport in Sheffield. I had to catch a bus from there to Newmarket. I feel like I've been travelling forever, but it was worth it to see dad. I've missed him so much.”

“Not half as much as he's missed you, Lara, dear,” Beryl said. “I don't think he's been taking very good care of himself and that's why he got sick. But now you're back. You're just the incentive he needs to get better.”

Lara arrived at the hospital at around eleven o'clock each morning in the following days. Walter had no appetite for hospital food, and had lost such a lot of weight, so Lara often brought him lunch, and sometimes dinner, too. Within two weeks of eating his favorite home-cooked meals, Lara started to notice a difference in her father. He gained a few pounds, the color returned to his face, and his lungs began to clear.

At times, Lara noticed he seemed anxious, so she questioned the nurses about it. They told her that the war had made a lot of people fretful, especially men, who felt helpless to protect their families. Lara had the feeling his anxiety was caused by something else. She thought he was worrying about his health and missing the horses he loved so dearly.

On Christmas morning Lara took her father fruit mince pies that he always enjoyed and a special Christmas pudding made for him by Beryl Brown. Lara had been asked by the staff to attend a luncheon with her father and the other patients and their families. Roast turkey and pork were on the menu.

“Surely the cooks won't mess that up,” Walter said to Lara when shown the menu.

“I wouldn't think so,” Lara said confidently.

“Then we'll take our chances. If it's awful, we still have the mince pies and pudding.”

It turned out to be a lovely day and the lunch was very nice. Everyone sung Christmas carols, while a white-haired doctor played an amusing and irreverent Santa, giving out gifts to the children. Walter enjoyed himself, but tired easily, so he went back to bed soon after lunch. Lara stayed with him for an hour but when he wanted to sleep, she headed home through the snow, to an empty house. She now had plenty of time to reflect on the tragic twists and turns of her life. How would things have been if she hadn't lost her mother? If Rick hadn't been killed, where would they have had their first Christmas together? In the Australian heat, or with her father in England?

One morning, between Christmas and New Year, Lara arrived at the hospital much earlier than usual. She found Elsie sitting beside Walter's bed, but he'd fallen asleep.

“He's all right,” Elsie reassured her when she saw how worried she looked. “He just had a bad night. I think he's looking forward to going home and sleeping in his own bed again.”

“Why did he have a bad night?”

“A man across the hall kept everyone awake. I believe the nurses had a terrible time with him. He has a brain injury from the war and he was suffering what the nurses call night terrors. I believe he screamed for most of the night, insisting the hospital was under attack. The nursing sister gave Walter something to help him rest for a few hours. It seems to have knocked him out.”

“What time do you start your shift today?” Lara asked Elsie very quietly. She was wearing her uniform and name badge.

“I don't start until midday today,” Elsie replied. “I came in early to see Walter, but I do need to pop down the High Street to get a few things before I start my shift. Now you're here, I'll go.”

Lara walked to the door with her. “I appreciate you visiting Dad,” she said. “The man he works for at Fitzroy Stables hasn't been in once. It's quite shameful as dad has given that place many years of loyal service.”

“So I believe. It doesn't sound like Lord Hornsby is a very nice man.”

“That's an understatement,” Lara said. “His son was my pupil when I taught in Newmarket Elementary School. Harrison is a lovely boy, but his father is terribly hard on him.”

While they were talking, Walter woke up. He was so groggy that his vision was bleary, but he saw the outlines of two blond women by the door before drifting off to sleep again. After Elsie left, Lara sat by his bed for quite awhile before Walter became restless and started moaning. She wasn't sure whether he was awake or dreaming.

“Dad,” Lara said, taking his hand.

“You're so like your mother,” Walter whispered. “So like her.”

Lara was taken back. Her father had never spoken about her mother. Never! Lara had been naturally curious but Walter had always made it plain that it was a closed subject. There wasn't even a photograph in the house.