Now that Henry had engaged a part-time nurse to cover for Daisy’s days off, she felt happier. If she did decide to leave to look after Dick, Roger would be well cared for. Susan Taylor, a former VAD who’d been widowed and left with a child, lived on the other side of the common and her mother would care for the little girl while she worked.
Although Henry had seemed keen to start up a convalescent home, it had been some weeks since he’d mentioned it and she didn’t like to badger him when he was so busy. If he decided against it, she would have to go home and look after Dick.
On a drizzly day in October, she set off to visit her mother, no longer worried about Roger now that Susan was there. She got off the train at Kingsbourne Halt, holding on to her hat as a keen wind blew up from the harbour. Thank goodness Mum hadn’t taken in any washing today, she thought as she entered the cottage. The fire glowed in the range and without the lines of damp washing strewn around, the little room seemed homely and cheerful.
‘I haven’t heard from Dick lately,’ Effie said, bustling round to make Daisy a cup of tea. ‘Do you think he’s all right?’
‘You mustn’t worry, Mum. He’s being well looked after, and we’ll get him home soon,’ Daisy promised. She didn’t say that it might be a long time. She’d written to the hospital, stressing her nursing experience and asking for details of her brother’s condition. The reply had not been reassuring.
If only Henry would make up his mind about Ryfe Hall, she thought. She was sure she could look after Roger and her brother there without letting any of them down. She hadn’t mentioned her plan to her mother and, pushing it to one side, she asked if there’d been any word from Billy. Effie’s eyes lit up. ‘Didn’t I tell you? He came home,’ she said. ‘He only stayed one night ’cos he had to get back to his ship.’
‘I wish I’d known. I’d have asked Mr Thornton for time off.’
‘I didn’t know myself. You could’ve knocked me down with a feather when he came through the door.’ She smiled proudly. ‘He looked so grown up in his uniform.’
When Daisy left, she was pleased that her mother was in a happier frame of mind. The end of the war was in sight and soon she would have two of her boys home.
Daisy was still waiting for Henry’s decision when a letter arrived from Peter Holloway, who was now based at the Naval Hospital in Gosport. He asked whether she’d had any success with her patient and Daisy wrote back straight away. Roger had taken up painting with enthusiasm, although so far he’d only produced dark slashes of paint on the canvas. ‘Nothing I recognize as art,’ she wrote, ‘but he seems to be getting the “dark thoughts” out of his system.’
She then outlined her hopes for Ryfe Hall, tentatively suggesting that if it came to anything, he might become involved. She hoped she hadn’t been too forward. Despite their friendship, she knew nothing of his background or his plans after the war. Perhaps he would return to his old life, taking up general practice in his home town in Surrey.
To her surprise he wrote back immediately, offering wholehearted support. She couldn’t wait for Henry to get home, certain that Peter’s enthusiasm would help him to make up his mind. But perhaps he already had, she thought. After all, why should he be concerned about Dick or those other shell-shocked soldiers while his own cousin was being so well cared for?
Daisy looked down at Roger, asleep now but restlessly mumbling and twitching. She straightened the sheet and turned away; she didn’t want to let him or her employer down. But her brother came first. She couldn’t leave him in that place where he’d just get worse. She’d definitely give in her notice if Henry decided not to go ahead with the project. After all, he had Susan to look after Roger now.
But she had underestimated Henry. He knocked on the door and opened it. ‘Can you leave Roger for a moment? I need to talk to you.’
She nodded and took him to her sitting room, switching on lamps and drawing the curtains against the chill autumn night. She sat down, biting her lip. She thought she knew what he was going to say. But to her surprise he was smiling.
‘Don’t look so worried. I’ll set your mind at rest straightaway. I’ve decided to help you with your scheme.’ He held up a hand in protest as Daisy gasped her thanks. ‘Don’t thank me yet. Wait till you’ve heard what I have to say.’
Since that first conversation he’d had several meetings with the board of Kingsbourne Hospital and local businessmen. ‘They’ve agreed to set up a trust to finance the renovation of Ryfe Hall and staffing for the first year,’ he said. ‘They all felt that such a home is a solution for those whose families can’t care for them. And, once it’s done up, Ryfe Hall will be ideal.’
‘I can’t believe it’s really going to happen, Mr Thornton,’ Daisy said. ‘I was beginning to think it was just a silly dream.’
‘Well, there’s a lot of work to be done before your dream becomes a reality.’
‘I can’t wait to get started,’ Daisy said, getting up and pacing the room. ‘We could convert the stables and outbuildings into workshops. Doctor Holloway says that keeping the patients occupied would be a vital part of their treatment.’
‘An excellent idea,’ Henry said. ‘I’ll put it to the trustees.’
Daisy was a little disconcerted. She had hoped that she would be able to make decisions herself. Henry reassured her. ‘The house itself will, of course, become the property of the new trust. But they’ve agreed to appoint you as matron, so you will decide how the home is run.’ He smiled. ‘That is a condition I insisted upon.’
Daisy rushed across the room and kissed his cheek. ‘Mr Thornton, you’re an angel.’
Henry blushed and rubbed his cheek. ‘I’m doing this for purely selfish reasons,’ he said. ‘You were planning to leave to look after your brother. This way I can ensure my cousin will receive the best possible care too.’
Daisy was silent for a few moments, but she couldn’t stay still for long. She opened a drawer and brought out a large notebook. ‘I’ve been jotting down ideas,’ she said. ‘We could grow our own vegetables and keep chickens.’
Henry read in silence, then handed the book back to her. ‘You’ve certainly thought it through,’ he said. ‘I like your ideas.’
‘I can’t thank you enough for backing me up and believing in me,’ Daisy said.
‘We need to take a look at the house – we’ll go tomorrow. Susan will look after Roger.’ He paused in the doorway, gesturing towards her notebook. ‘And bring that with you. We’ll need to make notes of what wants doing.’
As they came up to the drive, the sun came out, reflecting off the windows. From here, Ryfe Hall looked just the same as it had on that dreadful day when Daisy had been turned out in the rain and cold. It was hard to believe it had been empty for so long, but as they drew nearer the signs of neglect were obvious. The paintwork was flaked and blistered and the steps up to the front door were slippery with moss. It was sad to see the weeds in the drive, the rusting iron gates, but today she was full of optimism. The beautiful old house would soon be restored to its former glory – and not as a home for the idle rich but a haven for those who’d sacrificed their lives just as those who died had.
If only Georgina were with her. Daisy had hoped her friend would have returned to Sussex by now. But little Jackie had been unwell and the Lazenbys wouldn’t hear of her leaving just yet.
She got out of the car and, while Henry struggled with the rusty lock, she thought that in many ways nothing had changed. The untidy rooks’ nests, empty now, were visible through the remains of the leaves on the stand of elms beyond the house. The ivy-covered stables, where the jackdaws nested in spring, were more dilapidated than ever.
Henry pushed the door open and Daisy wrinkled her nose at the musty smell. She looked round the wide hall, remembering again the last time she was here, the humiliation of being dismissed for something she hadn’t done.
‘I’m surprised that you want to come back here after what happened,’ Henry said.
‘I’ve put it all behind me. I know the truth and that’s all that matters,’ Daisy retorted.
‘Of course – and Georgina believed in you. She tried to get you reinstated.’
‘We put that behind us when we worked together. We’re friends now.’
Henry smiled rather wistfully and Daisy knew that he still loved Georgina. Perhaps it wasn’t such a good idea for her to come back after all. Changing the subject, she said, ‘It’s so sad to see this lovely house empty and neglected like this.’
They went into the former drawing room. The cream and gold striped wallpaper that she remembered was now speckled with mould and hung in damp strips. ‘Just wait till we’ve finished with it,’ Henry said, looking round at the damage. ‘You won’t recognize the place.’
Daisy followed his gaze, suddenly realizing how much work there was to do. Were they taking on too much? But Henry said confidently, ‘I had it surveyed when I bought it so I know it’s structurally sound. Jot down what needs to be done – your own ideas too.’
‘It’s going to take a lot of work to put this right,’ Daisy said.
‘A lot of money too but I’m not worried about that. The trust has agreed to finance it. Call it our contribution to the war effort.’
Henry’s enthusiasm was infectious and, as they went from room to room discussing the alterations and repairs, Daisy filled the notebook, jotting down Henry’s suggestions and occasionally making notes of her own. She was absorbed in writing, hardly taking any notice when he said, ‘I almost volunteered when war broke out. I was so wretched when Georgina broke off our engagement I just wanted to get away.’
She smiled but he didn’t seem to expect a reply. ‘I’d have gone too, but for the business,’ he went on. ‘My manager and many of the workers joined up. I felt I should try to keep things going so they’d have jobs to come back to after the war. You can imagine how I felt when I realized my businesses were making more money than ever. It was almost as if I were profiting from the war – from other people’s misfortunes.’
‘I’m sure no one seriously thought that,’ Daisy protested.
‘You’re very kind, Daisy. But there were murmurs among those I thought were my friends, especially those who’d lost someone at the front.’
‘That’s only natural, I suppose. But it’s ridiculous to think that everyone should join up. Some had to stay behind and keep things going.’
They reached the top of the house and the attics, which ran the length of the main house under the eaves. Daisy’s heart lurched as memories bombarded her.
She looked out of the little dormer window, recalling how often she’d gazed out across the parkland, hoping for a glimpse of Jack returning from an evening ride. And later, when he’d joined the navy, the sight of him bowling up the drive in his open-topped Hispano Suiza.
The image of the car made her shudder, recalling Ernest’s rape attempt. He must have been driving the car without permission that day, she thought. She wondered what had happened to it – sold, along with all the family’s possessions, to pay off Sir John’s creditors, she supposed. The reminder of her former employer brought a stab of anger, replacing her sadness at the ruin of the lovely old house. Georgina should be living here with young Jack, not miles away from friends in a gloomy old vicarage.
‘These rooms will still be the staff quarters,’ Henry said, interrupting her thoughts. ‘But I think we could turn one of the small rooms into a bathroom. What do you think?’
‘I should have thought of that,’ she said, recalling how often she’d climbed the narrow stairs with her jug of water, only to find it had frozen overnight. ‘It will be important after the war to provide good conditions for staff, otherwise no one will want to live in. Those girls who’d have gone into service have been enjoying the extra money and freedom they get from doing war work. They won’t want to go back to how things were.’
‘I agree. And why should they?’ Henry said as they went downstairs to inspect the bedrooms. ‘Should we knock down walls and make dormitories?’ he asked.
‘I think individual rooms would be better,’ Daisy said. ‘I want our patients to think of Ryfe Hall as a home. After all, some of them could be here for a long time.’ She told him about the young man who’d kept the others awake with his shouting and screaming. ‘Doctor Holloway explained that it was part of his illness but of course it upset the men. It would be better if they each had their own room,’ she said.
Henry nodded agreement and they descended to the kitchens and pantries in the basement. Daisy rushed about, opening cupboards, making suggestions, scribbling in the little notebook, while he stood in the doorway, smiling. ‘You really are keen to get started, aren’t you?’ he said.
Daisy turned to him, pink with pleasure. ‘I can’t tell you how much it means to me, having something worthwhile to do.’ Her smile faded. ‘I was doing a good job out in Malta. But when I got ill, they wouldn’t let me stay. It’s wonderful to think I can do some good again.’
‘You’ve been doing very well with Roger,’ Henry said.
‘But it’s not enough. Do you understand?’
Henry nodded. ‘There’s only one problem. Suppose you meet some young man and decide to get married, what will happen then?’
‘I won’t marry,’ she said, her eyes clouding. ‘You see, there was someone but …’
She couldn’t go on and Henry shuffled his feet, coughing with embarrassment. ‘I didn’t mean to pry. Please forgive me. This damned war has a lot to answer for.’
‘You weren’t to know. But I’d rather not discuss it.’
A moment ago she’d been happy, making plans, but now it was as if the sun had gone behind a cloud. These moments always came when she thought of Jack and what might have been. Would the pain ease as time went on? But if she came back to Ryfe Hall she’d find reminders of Jack in every corner. Was she doing the right thing?
Since returning to England she’d begun to persuade herself that their passionate but all-too-brief interlude in Malta couldn’t have been true love. Could such intense feeling last, or at least mellow into the warm intimate affection her parents had enjoyed? Easy to believe so when she’d been in his arms, to believe that their different stations didn’t matter. But after the war and a return to a normal life, it might be a different story.
Daisy sighed. That scarcely mattered now. For all her clinging to the hope that somehow he’d survived, common sense told her that if he’d been rescued, perhaps taken prisoner, his family would have been informed. And Georgina would have told her.
Henry coughed again and Daisy smiled as he apologized once more. ‘It doesn’t matter. I can’t spend the rest of my life moping.’ She opened her notebook and began to write. ‘There’s so much to do,’ she said with a determined smile.
Dusk was falling as they left but Daisy hadn’t noticed the fading light. Ryfe Hall had always been rather gloomy, being too far from the town to have gas lighting installed. Remembering the dirty and time-consuming chore of filling and trimming the oil lamps, Daisy hesitantly suggested that they could put in electric lighting. But Henry had already arranged for a generator to be installed in one of the outhouses. It seemed he’d thought of everything. Daisy wondered if he was doing it for Roger or himself – perhaps to make up for not having seen active service.
When they reached Kingsbourne it was completely dark and Daisy knew Susan would be anxious to get home to her little girl, but Henry insisted she pop in to see her mother. ‘I’ll wait for you,’ he said.
Her mother looked up with a worried frown. ‘I was beginning to wonder what had happened to you. I was sure you were coming today,’ she said.
Daisy gave her a quick hug and explained where she’d been. ‘Ryfe Hall’s going to be converted into a nursing home – I’m going to work there,’ she said. Effie was impressed until she learned that Dick would be one of the first patients.
‘But you said he was getting better,’ she protested. ‘Why can’t he come home?’
Daisy then told her the real reason why Dick was still in hospital. Although she knew of Roger Thornton’s problems, it was hard for her to grasp that Dick was in the same state. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ she asked through a haze of tears. ‘I would have gone to see him. He must think nobody cares.’
‘Mum, he hasn’t been fit enough for visitors. It would only upset him, and you as well. When the hall’s ready I’ll fetch him and you can visit as often as you like.’
Effie nodded and wiped her eyes. ‘I just feel so helpless.’ A little sob escaped her. ‘Oh, my poor boy,’ she whispered.
Daisy comforted her mother, but she didn’t want to keep Henry waiting. ‘I’m sorry, Mum. I must go. Mr Thornton’s waiting.’
As Effie kissed her, she said, ‘It’s good to see you looking happy again, love.’
Not exactly happy, Daisy thought, as she got into the car and turned to wave. She didn’t think she’d ever be really happy again but she was content, and now she had something to aim for, a goal in life. That was enough, she decided. It had to be.