The Best of Daughters (32 page)

It was several days before Bowman was genuinely well enough to be considered for discharge, and Daisy had been racking her brains for a solution. When the time finally arrived she had been out all day, transporting injured soldiers from the station to the port to await the next sailing for England. It was late at night when she arrived back at Lamarck and she went straight to the ward, but to her horror Bowman's bed had been stripped and there was no sign of him. She felt suddenly faint and weak at the knees. She sat down
on the edge of the bed hoping that none of the nursing staff would notice, and it took her a few moments to recover her composure. Not knowing what had happened to him was the worst thing. Had he been sent for repatriation or had he decided to make a run for it? She took several deep breaths and rose to her feet. Steadying herself, she went to find the nurse on duty.

‘Soldat Smets discharged himself this morning. He said he wanted to return to his unit even though the doctor refused to pass him as fit for active service.'

‘Do you know where he might have gone?' Daisy asked tentatively.

‘I don't think that should concern you, Miss Lennox.' The nurse eyed her suspiciously. ‘Fraternisation with the patients is forbidden, as you well know.'

‘Yes, of course. I only knew him slightly, but he asked me to write to his mother in Bruges. I was concerned for her sake.'

‘I see.' The nurse raised an eyebrow, making it quite clear that she understood only too well. She gave Daisy a searching look and her expression softened slightly. ‘I'm sorry, Miss Lennox. I have to get on.'

‘I'm sorry, nurse. I didn't mean to take up your valuable time.' Daisy walked off in a daze. She should not concern herself about Bowman. He was, after all, a deserter and he would never be able to return home to England without the risk of court martial and the inevitable death penalty. He was not her responsibility, but somehow it felt as though he was.

She could do nothing more that night, and next
morning she was still no closer to finding a solution to his predicament. She could only hope that he had found some way to get back to England. It would be useless to make enquiries around the town as he would simply merge into the shifting mass of servicemen who crowded the streets.

There was nothing Daisy could do other than to concentrate on her work, and she threw herself into it with even more gusto than before. She drove the ambulance all day and spent hours cleaning and maintaining it. She learned how to change a tyre, and to do minor repairs, ending up covered in mud and engine oil, but exhausted enough to fall asleep as soon as she climbed into bed. Days merged into weeks and the fighting around Ypres intensified. As she was seen to be a competent driver Daisy spent most of her time doing just that. Occasionally it was taking the mobile kitchen to the Front, but more often than not she and Clarice worked together ferrying the wounded to and from hospital. The two of them became close friends and it was not simply Clarice's distant relationship to the Pendletons that made her a good companion.

Clarice was young enough to think that life was still a great adventure and Daisy admired her spirit. She also felt very protective towards her. Clarice was easily frightened although she tried very hard to be brave. They often came under shell fire when driving the mobile kitchen and occasionally came upon scenes of such appalling annihilation that they were physically sick. But somehow they carried on, and gradually Daisy began to put Bowman's plight out of her mind.
He was, after all, a grown man and in charge of his own destiny. Where that had led him remained a mystery, but she was not eager to learn his fate. She set her sights on doing the best job she could and helping to bring a little solace to men whose daily lives were a living hell.

Despite the fact that they were far from home there was no shortage of news, most of it bad. The allied forces' landing in Gallipoli with vast numbers of casualties was bad enough, but at the beginning of May the sinking of the Cunard liner the
Lusitania
, with its appalling loss of life, cast a shadow over everyone at Lamarck. Somehow their spirits revived as the miserable spring gave way to warmer summer weather. The fighting around Ypres had virtually come to an end and Daisy had been away from home for almost nine months. She had the occasional letter to keep her up to date with family matters and everything seemed to be going along as usual, until the fateful day when a telegram arrived.

She had been about to drive to the station to transport wounded soldiers to the waiting troopship when a messenger pedalled into the courtyard on a rusty old bicycle. She stared at the telegram for several seconds before gathering up enough courage to open it. Her fingers trembled as she tore the envelope and the words danced before her eyes. Clarice took it gently from her. ‘Oh, Daisy, I'm so sorry. You've talked so often and so fondly of your brother. I am terribly, terribly sorry.'

Daisy gulped and swallowed, but she was too stunned to cry. For months she had been expecting the
worst but she had been lulled into a false sense of security when no news was good news. Now she must face what women all over Britain and the Empire had been facing for almost a year. She had lost someone very close to her.

‘You must go home,' Clarice said gently. ‘You're due for some leave anyway, Daisy. You must tell Boss and she'll let you go on compassionate grounds.'

‘Yes,' Daisy said, dully. ‘Yes, of course. I must go home.'

Rainbow's End was in deep mourning. The curtains were closed and it was a sad-faced Beatrice who opened the door. After a fond and tearful greeting, Daisy took off her hat and gloves and sat down at the kitchen table. It had been a long journey, starting the previous day when she boarded a troopship after a heated argument with the officer in charge who, despite her uniform, was adamant that women were not allowed to travel on a vessel commandeered by the army. In the end she was allowed on board but only if she promised to stay in the captain's cabin and not venture out on deck until they docked in Dover. There had been a long wait at the station and then the train journey to Victoria. She took a taxi to Liverpool Street, but even so it had taken all day to get to Nutley Green and she was overwrought and exhausted.

Beatrice eyed her warily. ‘Are you all right, Daisy?'

‘I'm just tired. I'd love a cup of tea.'

Beatrice went into the larder and came out with a
bottle of brandy. ‘Purely medicinal,' she said with a wry smile as she poured two tots into tumblers. ‘Sip this while I make the tea.' She busied herself at the range. ‘You don't have to talk if you don't want to. I'll understand.'

Daisy took a sip of the brandy and felt its heat strike her stomach like a bolt from a crossbow. ‘That's Father's Armagnac unless I'm very much mistaken.'

‘You're absolutely correct,' Beatrice said with a rueful smile. ‘Mrs Aitken from the village has a weakness for a drop of tiddley, so we don't put temptation in her way. She's a good cleaner, when she's sober. But I do miss Ruby, and her cooking. It's a pity that she had to go.'

Daisy choked on the brandy. ‘Do you ever hear from her?'

Beatrice put the teapot on the table and sat down. ‘Not a word. I'm sorry, Daisy. I know you were fond of her, but she hasn't been in contact.'

‘She never answered any of my advertisements. I suppose the poor girl thinks we treated her very badly.' Daisy put the glass down. Drinking brandy on an empty stomach was making her feel light-headed, and she needed to keep her wits about her. ‘You said that Mother has taken to her room. Doesn't she come downstairs at all?'

‘Not since we received the telegram four days ago. We've had the doctor to her but he just advises rest and gives her something to make her sleep. He says he's seen it dozens of times and he expects that she'll rally. Maybe she will when she sees you.'

‘I doubt it. I was never her favourite. It was always Teddy and then you. I always came a poor third.'

Beatrice reached out across the table to hold her hand. ‘She doesn't mean half the things she says. It's just her way.' She smiled and set about pouring the tea. ‘It's Father I'm worried about. He's taken Teddy's death very much to heart and he practically lives at the office these days.'

‘But what about his assistant? Surely he could take over and give Father some time at home with Mother.'

Beatrice shook her head. ‘I don't like Arley Meadows. I don't trust the blighter.'

‘That doesn't sound like you, Bea.' Daisy stared at her in surprise. It seemed that in the relatively short time she had been away from home her sister had suddenly matured beyond her years. ‘What's wrong with him?'

‘He's a Uriah Heep,' Beatrice said, pulling a face. ‘He pretends to be so nice and humble but I think he's cheating Father out of money, although I can't prove a thing.'

‘What makes you say that?'

‘I can't base it on anything other than the fact that money is so tight. I know that Father works really hard and has rebuilt the business, but he's always worried. He won't tell me anything, of course, because I'm just a girl and the baby of the family. Or that's what he thinks.'

‘I can see that you're completely grown up,' Daisy said, smiling. ‘You'll be getting married next. I can see it coming.'

Beatrice's fresh face flushed to the roots of her hair. ‘I am, actually. Jimmy and I plan to be married before Christmas, but I daren't tell anyone. Not yet, anyway. It would seem heartless in the circumstances. Although, of course, I know I'm under age and will need Father's consent, but I'm sure he'll be sympathetic.' She paused with her cup halfway to her lips. ‘And what about you and Rupert? Have you heard from him?'

‘He writes occasionally, although they're just little notes really. I would hardly call them love letters. But then I've seen what it's like at the Front. It's terrible, Bea. Just too awful to describe. I can only hope and pray for him.'

Beatrice put her cup down and fumbled in her pocket for her hanky. ‘It's the same for so many people, Daisy. Jed Smith was killed three months ago, and Iris is left alone to bring up her little boy. We don't know if it's Teddy's, but I'd like to think that there's something of him left to carry on. He's a beautiful baby. I quite often visit Iris and she lets me hold him. He has blue eyes just like Teddy's.'

Daisy could take no more. She rose to her feet. ‘I'd better go upstairs and see Mother. Perhaps I can persuade her to come down for dinner.'

‘Good luck with that,' Beatrice said grimly. ‘Father promised to come home early, so let's hope he gets away from Arley's clutches.'

Daisy frowned. She only had a short home leave but she would put Arley on her list of things to do. Tomorrow she would walk to Pendleton Park and call upon Lady Pendleton, but perhaps she could borrow
the Prince Henry and drive into Colchester afterwards. Maybe a surprise visit to her father's office would reveal exactly what Mr Meadows was up to.

‘You look dreadful, Daisy,' Gwendoline said when Daisy walked into her bedroom. ‘You're thin as a lath and your face is tanned like a farm labourer's. You obviously haven't been looking after yourself properly.'

Daisy would have laughed if she had not been so close to tears. She perched on the edge of the bed. ‘I can see you're feeling a bit better, Mother.'

‘My heart is broken, and I don't think I'll ever feel anything again after losing my dear boy. I hate this war and everything about it. I want it to end, and you must come home and look after us again. Your father is a shadow of his former self, and Beatrice spends most of her time at the farm. I'm afraid she'll make a dreadful mistake and marry that Jimmy Gurney. I'll never hold my head up again at one of dear Jane's soirees, if I have a daughter living in a hovel.'

‘The Gurneys are a very respectable family, Mother. And I'd hardly describe the farmhouse as a hovel. It's twice the size of Rainbow's End.'

‘Stop, you're giving me a headache.' Gwendoline clutched her forehead in a dramatic gesture. ‘It's all too much for me.'

‘We all need you, Mother. You're the one who keeps everything together.'

‘Do you really think so?'

Daisy smiled. ‘I know so, Mother. Now please, get up and get dressed so that we can have dinner as a
family, and raise a glass to Teddy. That's what he would want, wouldn't he? He'd hate to see you laid so low.'

Gwendoline raised herself on her elbow. ‘He would. Teddy always liked to see me dressed in my best with my hair done nicely, and just a touch of lip rouge. Not too much, of course.'

‘Of course not.' Daisy rose to her feet and went to the wardrobe. She opened the door and riffled through the elegant gowns hanging inside. She selected her mother's favourite lilac tussore afternoon gown and laid it across the foot of the bed. ‘No black for any of us, Mother. Teddy hated to see women wearing black. He said it made them look like crows.' She backed towards the door. ‘I'll leave you now, but if you need any help just give me a call.'

Gwendoline sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. ‘I really miss having my own maid. It's terrible being poor, Daisy. I do so hope that Rupert doesn't get killed before you have a chance to marry him. I don't want you ending up a sad old spinster living off the pittance that your father will be able to leave you.'

‘I'm a modern woman, Mother,' Daisy said, trying desperately to be patient. ‘If I don't marry I'll earn my own living. Anyway, we won't worry about that now. I'll see you downstairs.' She left the room before she said something that would burst the bubble in which her mother obviously still lived. Untouched by the real world, Gwendoline Lennox inhabited a dream-like place rooted in the last century when the old queen ruled a huge empire and no one questioned their position in
the class structure. Daisy suspected that things would be quite different when the war finally came to an end.