The planned trip to Belgium took place during the last full week of July after Daisy had finished school for the summer term. George, Pips and Daisy travelled across the Channel and then into Belgium, hiring a car for Pips to drive. Although Robert had adamantly refused to go, Alice had hoped to join them, but at the last moment she had developed a heavy cold and had decided not to travel.
‘I never did much driving when we were out here,’ George admitted, as he sat beside Pips. ‘I’m not confident of driving on the right-hand side.’
‘Really?’ Pips teased. ‘And you a brave major in the British army?’
They exchanged a fond glance. Whenever they came back to Belgium it revived all sorts of memories for them.
In the back seat, Daisy was craning her neck to see out of the windows. ‘I can’t believe how flat it is. It’s just like home, isn’t it?’
‘Very similar,’ George agreed. They fell silent, each busy with their thoughts of previous occasions here. Only Daisy had happy memories of her first journey to see her cousins; for the others, who remembered earlier times, there were some very sad recollections.
After the flurry of their arrival at the farm near Lijssenthoek, Pips drew Brigitta aside and said, ‘I’m so sorry that your grandparents are no longer here. They were a wonderful old couple.’
Brigitta smiled through sudden tears. ‘They were both very ill last winter and died within a week of one another. It was a hard time for us, but I knew it was what they would both have wanted – to go almost together – and that was a comfort. They brought me up – I even used their surname – but they lived long enough to see their great-grandsons growing up to love the farm. It was their dearest wish to see it pass to them eventually. And, of course, it will.’
‘They’ll both inherit it, then?’
Brigitta nodded. ‘It’s all set out in my grandfather’s will and there’ll be no falling out. Already, they work very well together.’
Pips squeezed her arm. ‘I’m so glad. It must be a great comfort to both you and William, especially after—’ Pips broke off, not wanting to be tactless.
Brigitta, however, only smiled and said, ‘How are the rest of William’s family? Alice writes regularly, of course, but I know he’d like to hear all about the others from you. Even’ – she smiled sadly – ‘his father.’
The visit was a great success – a happy time for them all, though tinged with sadness at times. George and Pips went alone to visit his friend who lay at peace in a cemetery near Brandhoek and then all of them – even Pascal and Waldo – took a rare day off from the farm to travel to the Somme to visit the graves of William and Alice’s three brothers.
‘We wanted to bring Luke to see you again and to visit his dad’s grave,’ Daisy told William as they walked amongst the hundreds of white markers, ‘but your father wouldn’t let him come.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that. I’d like to have seen him again.’
Daisy glanced up at him. ‘When he’s old enough to be able to do what he wants, he’ll come to see you again, Uncle William. I know he will.’
‘I wouldn’t want him to be in trouble with his grandfather though, Daisy. Not on my account.’ There was a pause before he asked, ‘Is Luke happy working for him?’
‘Oh yes. The business will be his one day. He’s happy about that, though I just wish Granddad would let him do other things.’ She went on to tell William about the proposed trip to Skegness to take both Luke and Harry flying. ‘He put a stop to that too and Luke’s just not quite old enough to go against him.’ Impishly, she added, ‘Not yet.’
‘Daisy, you should warn Luke not to push him too far. His granddad can be a very stubborn old man, as you know. I wouldn’t want Luke to lose his inheritance.’
Daisy laughed. ‘You’re right – about Granddad, I mean – but he’s also not stupid. He’s only got Luke to leave his business to because, of course, Harry is not his grandson as he’s very fond of reminding him.’
William smiled at the young girl’s confidence. ‘Well, just make sure he’s careful, Daisy. And now, here we are at Harold’s grave. You can lay the flowers you’ve brought on Luke’s behalf.’
Daisy laid the posy carefully and then stood up, looking down at the name on the marker. ‘What was he like?’
‘Harold?’ William smiled. ‘A young rascal in many ways. Running away when he was underage to join up in Newark so that his family couldn’t stop him was just such an example. But you must always remind Luke that he would have come home and married Peggy if he could have done. I heard him say that when he was dying and I believed him. And now, let’s go and find your other two uncles. They’re buried a short distance from here. And then tomorrow we’ll go into Ypres. Pips wants to see how the rebuilding is progressing.’
Pips, with George, William and Daisy beside her, stood looking up at Cloth Hall, which had once been a magnificent building in the heart of Ypres.
‘I’m so glad they’ve decided to rebuild everything exactly as it was,’ Pips said. ‘It’s going to be beautiful once again.’
‘It looks like they’re progressing very well with the tower and the western wing,’ William said. ‘They’ve done a lot more even since I was last here.’
Pips’s glance roamed over the whole building. ‘It’ll take decades to complete it.’
‘Now let me show you St George’s church,’ William said. ‘It was completed a few years ago.’
‘Oh, the one that’s a memorial to the British and Commonwealth troops?’ George said. ‘Where is it?’
‘Just across the road from the cathedral.’
They walked around the corner and, as they walked past the cathedral, William said, ‘This is finished now. The only change they made was that they rebuilt it with a pointed spire.’ They walked on and crossed the road to the small church built on the opposite corner. ‘Here we are. Now, as you know, there’s a school here at St George’s, but I think the children will be on holiday. The headmaster and teachers come from Britain and most of the pupils are the children of workers with the War Graves Commission, who live in the area. I’m told a lot of their school activities are rooted in British traditions.’
As Pips stepped into the quiet interior, she gasped. The walls were lined with plaques dedicated to regiments, associations and even to individuals. There were memorials in the stained-glass windows and on almost every seat was a hassock embroidered in cross stitch depicting the various badges of the different regiments who had served in the area.
Pips ran her fingers over the surface of one for the Sherwood Foresters and thought of Harold Dawson. ‘I wish Alice had come with us. I must remind her when we get home to make one for the Lincolnshire Regiment and send it out to you, William.’
‘That would be great. It’s so good to see the people rebuilding their lives and to see Ypres rising from the ashes. It’s – it’s uplifting.’
Daisy was unusually quiet as she read the inscriptions on several of the plaques. ‘There are so many,’ she murmured.
William put his arm about her. The more he saw of her, the fonder he became of his niece.
‘Tonight, we’ll go to the Menin Gate service. It’s very moving, but it’s a good thing to do.’
‘Yes,’ Daisy said. ‘I remember it. I’d like to go again. Oh, I do so wish Luke had been able to come with us.’
William squeezed her shoulders, but could think of nothing to say.
By the time they left, Daisy was firm friends with her Belgian cousins. The two boys had shown her all over the farm, had walked the fields with her, pointing out where crops were grown and which were left to pasture for grazing animals.
‘You can tell our grandmother all about us,’ Pascal said.
‘And tell her,’ Waldo added, ‘that Father talks about her often and that we hope to meet her one day.’
‘You will come and see us again, won’t you, Daisy, and next time, do bring Luke? We’d like to get to know him better,’ Pascal said. ‘He’s our cousin too.’
‘It won’t be for the lack of trying, I promise.’