The Soldier's Daughter (39 page)

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Authors: Rosie Goodwin

Tags: #Fiction, #Sagas

BOOK: The Soldier's Daughter
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‘I want a word with you,’ she heard her grandmother say, and clutching her hot-water bottle she stopped to listen.

‘An’ I wanna little word with you, Mother
dear
.’

Briony shivered at the menace in his slurred words.

‘This book – how can you explain it?’ Marion demanded. ‘There are far more funerals written in here than there are in the ledger that the girl brought back from the funeral parlour – so where has all the money gone from the ones that you haven’t accounted for in there?’

‘Ah . . .’ She heard him pause. ‘Well, the thing is – the ones in this book are the ones I
expected
to do, but the people took their business elsewhere.’

‘Then why have you written a list of expenses at the side of each entry?’

Again there was a silence until Sebastian stuttered, ‘Th . . . they’re the prices I was going to charge them if they had used us. But I can’t help it if they chose to go elsewhere, can I?’

‘Hmm!’ His mother clearly didn’t believe him, and Briony didn’t blame her. Sebastian was lying through his teeth. But then he was good at that.

‘But now, Mother, I need to speak to you about another little matter,’ Sebastian hurried on, his voice thick with drink. ‘The thing is, you see . . . Well, my friends and I had a few games of cards while they were staying here and I lost several times to Marcus. The problem is, he’s after me to pay up now – so if you could see your way clear to giving me a little advance . . .’

Briony didn’t wait to hear any more but hurried up the stairs. Sebastian was her grandmother’s problem, not hers. And thank God for that, she thought to herself. She really couldn’t stand the man!

Chapter Thirty-Four

As they raced towards Christmas the sharp pain in Briony’s heart at the loss of her mother became a dull ache. It never really went away but she kept herself busy and for most of the time it was bearable now. She had been hoping that Sarah would be home in time to spend Christmas with them, but sadly Dr Restarick had told her that, although the little girl was making progress, she was still some way away from being released. However, Mrs Brindley had forwarded some money to Briony from the sale of the pieces of furniture she had managed to sell, and the girl had been able to buy a pretty doll with blue glass eyes and curly blonde hair, which the doctor had promised he would get to Sarah in time for her to open the parcel on Christmas Day. Howel had found two in a shop in Truro when he had gone there for supplies for the animals and Briony knew that her little sister would love it. The other one was for Mabel. Briony had also bought presents for Alfie as well as the Dowers, and for the last two weeks she had been busy with Mrs Dower making Christmas cakes and puddings with their dwindling stock of dried fruit.

She worried constantly about Ernie. Ruth and Mrs Brindley had heard nothing from him, they told her in their letters, and every day she kept her eye open for the postman, hoping for a letter. Liverpool, London and Sheffield had suffered heavy bombings for weeks now, and whenever she felt down, Briony gave a thought to all the people who had lost their homes. At least she and the children still had somewhere to live, for now at least.

Mrs Frasier was also giving her cause for concern. The woman had taken to wandering off, and knowing how dangerous the cliffs could be, Briony did her best to keep an eye on her. She rarely washed any more and constantly talked to her husband as if he were in the room with her, which sent shivers up Briony’s spine. It seemed that Sebastian was taking full advantage of her confused state and Briony often heard him wheedling yet more money out of her. She wondered what would happen when the money finally dried up. He seemed to spend most of his time in a drunken stupor now and poor Mr Page was forced to handle the funeral business all by himself.

‘It’s not that I mind, you understand,’ the kindly old gentleman confided to Briony one day after he had called to see her grandmother. When their business was concluded Briony had given him a glass of sherry in the kitchen and they had had a pleasant chat.

‘But the thing is, I’m not as young as I used to be and I’ve had to call on my son to help me out at times.’ Mr Page’s son was in his late thirties and had not been able to join up because of poor eyesight. ‘He would love to take the business over,’ Mr Page told her, ‘but I doubt Mrs Frasier would sell it, even though her son has no interest in it now.’

‘That’s a shame,’ Briony said sadly. It seemed that Sebastian’s selfishness was impacting on all of them.

Mrs Dower had invited Briony and the children over to the farm to have Christmas dinner with them, but Briony had declined, as much as she would have liked to go. Her grandmother had never said a kind word to her nor shown her a single ounce of kindness in the whole time she had been there, and yet she couldn’t bear to think of her spending the day alone. She doubted very much indeed that Sebastian would be there. He spent most of his time away now, only coming home when he needed another hand-out. That suited Briony just fine; the less she saw of him the better, but she couldn’t help feeling a little sorry for her grandmother.

Today, Mabel and Alfie were in the Nativity Play at school, and as Briony got ready to go and watch it she smiled to herself. Alfie was one of the shepherds, but Mabel had landed the key role of Mary! Briony just hoped that nothing would upset her, as the little girl was still prone to swear if something went wrong. Only the day before, she had stubbed her toe on the table and cursed, ‘Bleedin’ ’ell, that ’urt!’ before glancing guiltily at Briony. It would certainly cause a stir if she came out with a mouthful during the play, and Briony dreaded to think what the teachers might say.

She was just about to leave when Howel appeared in the doorway looking very nice and tidy, and she raised her eyebrows questioningly at him.

‘I’m coming with you,’ he informed her. ‘You didn’t think I’d let my best girl play the star role without me going to see her, did you?’

Briony was secretly delighted although she didn’t say anything. Lately Mabel had taken a real shine to Howel and she saw that as a major step forward, considering how afraid of men she had been when she arrived as an evacuee. With very good reason, of course, and Briony still trembled with rage every time she thought of it. Up to now, apart from the one short message she had received from her mother shortly after arriving there, Mabel had heard nothing at all from her – but it didn’t seem to trouble the little girl at all. She didn’t appear to miss her siblings either, although from what Briony could gather they were all a lot older than her and many of them had already flown the nest before the war even started. Knowing what she did, Briony didn’t blame them.

‘Come on then, we don’t want to be late,’ Howel chided playfully, pulling her thoughts sharply back to the present and they set off for the village.

‘I’m a bit worried that Mabel’s mother hasn’t been in touch with her, especially as we’re coming up to Christmas,’ she admitted as they came to the cliff path.

He shrugged. ‘Well, it doesn’t seem to bother her. In fact, she has really blossomed since she came to you. You’re doing a really good job with her.’

Briony flushed with pleasure. ‘She is a lovely child,’ she said fondly. ‘But I just hope she doesn’t come out with something she shouldn’t today, that’s all. Can you imagine the Virgin Mary giving anyone a load of abuse?’

Howel chuckled as he imagined it, but they needn’t have worried. Mabel was on her very best behaviour, and when she sat beside the crib looking like a little angel as the Nativity story unfolded, Briony’s heart swelled with pride. Alfie made a fine shepherd too, and after it was over Briony and Howel praised them both.

‘You were the bee’s knees!’ Howel said, ruffling their hair.

‘Yes, you were, I was so proud of you both,’ Briony agreed, wishing that Mrs Wilkes could have been there to see the play too. Mabel’s mother had apparently never done anything but shout at the girl and scream for her to get out from under her feet, but Briony and Howel always praised her when she had been good, and that made her try all the harder to please them.

Fog had blown in from the sea whilst they were at the school and Briony clutched the children’s hands as they made their way home in the eerie atmosphere, afraid that they might stray too close to the edge of the cliff. It was a beautiful walk on a nice day, but in this weather it could be treacherous. They were almost back at the house when Mabel peered through the mist and told them, ‘I reckon I just saw someone ahead. I ’ope it ain’t a ghost.’

‘Grandmother!’ Briony said as she looked at Howel, and leaving her to care for the children he hurried ahead.

‘Ah, Mrs Frasier.’ She was right in front of him now, and far closer to the edge of the cliff than he would have liked. ‘What are you doing out here without your coat on? You’ll catch your death of cold.’

She gazed at him blankly for a second as he quietly walked towards her and gripped her elbow, leading her onto safer ground.

‘I can’t find my husband,’ she fretted, and despite the fact that she could be a very difficult woman he felt sorry for her.

‘Well, let’s go and look inside, eh?’ he said persuasively. Luckily she didn’t protest and once he had shown her back into the sitting room and placed her in a chair by the fire, he went to the kitchen to fetch a hot toddy, and a bowl of warm water as Briony had requested.

His mother was there by then preparing the evening meal, and when he came back she asked, ‘Is she all right, lad?’

He nodded but she could see that he was angry. ‘Yes – she is now that we’ve settled her. The poor woman was frozen through! Briony washed her and changed her into a warm nightgown. She managed to persuade her to eat a ham sandwich too. Why doesn’t that no-good son of hers show her a little consideration? He can’t expect Briony to watch over her all the time. She’d need to have eyes in the back of her head – and she does more than her share as it is. It doesn’t seem fair.’

‘A lot of things in life aren’t fair,’ his mother said soberly as she started to stuff the chicken. ‘Like this damn war for a start. But we have to get on and make the best of it.’ Then, brightening, she looked towards the children and said, ‘But I hear we have two little stars in the making here!’

Mabel nodded. ‘Me teacher told me I did a really good job o’ playin Mary,’ she said self-importantly. ‘So I’ve decided when I grow up I’m gonna be a film star like Katherine Hepburn. I like ’er!’

Alfie rolled his eyes. ‘Well, I’m gonna be a train-driver,’ he declared and the grown-ups smiled.

When the children had scampered away, Howel and his mother were chatting quietly when they heard a scrabbling noise coming from the yard. It couldn’t be a fox after the hens, as Briony had shooed them all into their coops for the night before going off to the school. And then they heard a scream – at which Howel almost leaped across the room and yanked the door open, heedless of the light that spilled onto the cobbled yard. Beyond the pool of light was nothing but darkness; he narrowed his eyes and peered about until suddenly a movement over by the barn had him racing towards it. It was a man but he had his back to him, then as he drew closer Howel recognised Sebastian. He had someone pinned against the barn door and whoever it was he had trapped was struggling and whimpering.

‘What’s going on here?’ he shouted, and when Sebastian spun about, startled, Howel saw Talwyn slide to the ground and wrap her arms about herself protectively. Her coat had been ripped open and for a moment Howel was so shocked that he felt as if he had been turned to stone. He could hear his mother and Briony running across the yard behind him and then as the full implications of what Sebastian had been about to do to his little sister hit him, Howel let out a roar like that of a wounded animal and launched himself at the other man, fists flying. The first punch caught Sebastian squarely on the chin and he went down like a dead weight, banging his head on the cobbles. But Howel wasn’t finished with him yet and he continued to pummel him.


You – dirty – filthy – bastard!
’ he ground out.

Sebastian was trying to rise now but each time he did so, another blow sent him sprawling back down. He coughed and spat out a tooth as blood spurted from his nose and mouth, and whilst Mrs Dower dropped to her knees to comfort a sobbing Talwyn, Briony threw her arms about Howel’s waist and somehow managed to pull him back.

‘Stop it!’ she screeched. ‘You’ll kill him, Howel!’

‘Too bloody right I will,’ Howel answered as he shook with rage.

Sebastian had scrambled to his feet and now, as the two men confronted each other, Howel caught a whiff of Sebastian’s whisky breath. He was roaring drunk – again!

‘I’ll have the police on you for this, you stinking peasant,’ Sebastian grunted as he swayed unsteadily towards the house.

‘You do that, man!’ Howel bawled. Briony was still struggling to hold him back. ‘And when they come, I’ll tell them that you were trying to rape to my sister. You know damn well she’s like a child that’s never grown up!’

‘Ah, but her body’s that of a woman. She’s got a fine pair of tits on her,’ Sebastian taunted, blood running down his chin. ‘And she’s been asking for it for years!’

‘Why,
you dirty
. . .’ Howel freed himself from Briony’s arms and was off across the yard like a rocket to finish what he’d started. Thankfully, Sebastian disappeared off round the side of the house – and just as Howel was within reach of him he flew through the front door and locked it firmly behind him.

‘I haven’t done with you yet!’ Howel yelled as he thumped on the door with frustration. ‘You lay one finger on my sister again and I swear I’ll kill you!’

‘And I haven’t done with you,
peasant
,’ Sebastian shouted back. ‘I’ll bide my time but you’ll live to regret this, Dower!’

Howel retraced his steps to find Briony and his mother helping Talwyn into the house. Once she was seated, he bent to her level and asked, ‘Did he hurt you, my little maid?’

She was trembling like a leaf in the wind but she shook her head, her eyes almost starting from her head.

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