The faces of those gathered round the big dining table turned expectantly towards Henry as he stood up and coughed loudly. In the ensuing silence, a spatter of rain rattled the windows and a draught stirred the curtains. Daisy shivered, but no one else seemed to notice. All eyes were on Henry and Georgina as they waited for the announcement that had been whispered about for weeks.
She looks lovely tonight, Daisy thought, remembering the girl whose wayward ringlets she’d tried to tame so often in the past. She recalled the excitement as she’d prepared her mistress for evenings such as this, the giggles, the saucy remarks about her parents’ guests. That girl was long gone, replaced by a woman of mature beauty. Tonight, though, Daisy was pleased when her friend caught her eye, a remnant of that girlish sense of fun still sparkling in her blue eyes.
When Henry held up his glass and made the toast ‘To my future wife’, Georgina blushed and lowered her eyes, then looked up at him with a smile which told the assembled guests that this time there was no doubt in her mind.
Henry fumbled in his waistcoat pocket and, taking out a small box, he slipped the simple solitaire diamond on to her finger. Above the smiles and applause, Daisy heard him whisper, ‘This time you mustn’t lose it. I can’t afford to keep buying diamonds.’
Georgina kissed him in reply, winking at Daisy over his shoulder.
She smiled back but a chill had settled in her stomach. Outside, the rising wind threw rain against the window, just as it had on that other evening long ago. So much had happened since then and she’d thought the past was well and truly behind her. But there was always something to remind her of that dreadful night.
But good had come out of it eventually. Georgina was now a true friend. And then there was Jack. The memory of her love for him brought the familiar stab of pain.
When Joe spoke to her, she smiled and answered automatically, giving herself a mental shake as she looked round at the smiling faces. She was happy now, she told herself. Who’d have thought when she was scurrying round the kitchens and sculleries at everyone’s beck and call that one day she’d be sitting here at the head of the table?
With a determined effort she returned to the present and made up her mind to enjoy the evening. A superb meal had been prepared and served by Effie and Mrs Harris, with the help of Millie. And for once, all their residents, including Dick, had been well enough to join them at the dining table. Her brother was almost his old self now, his face and arms tanned by working outdoors. And to her mother’s joy, Billy was home on leave and had joined them for dinner. At the other end of the table, they were laughing and teasing each other just as they had when they were boys.
It was a real family party, Daisy thought, for everyone here was family now. Joe and Mick were like brothers too, although no one could ever take Jimmy’s place. Even Bill Smythe, withdrawn and morose most of the time, was making an effort to join in.
There was a sudden silence as Henry stood up again. ‘I’d like to propose another toast,’ he said, looking at Daisy. ‘If it weren’t for Daisy, I might never have met Georgina again and been given a second chance of happiness. Besides that I owe her another debt of gratitude. As you know, I didn’t serve in the war – through no fault of my own, I might add. But I always felt a little guilty. If Daisy hadn’t come to work for me, infected me with her enthusiasm for the Ryfe Hall Convalescent Home, I would always have felt I should have done more. But it is Daisy’s dedication and hard work that made it a success. So raise your glasses please – to Daisy March, Matron of Ryfe Hall.’
After the emotional turmoil of the evening, Daisy was glad to escape to her room. But first she made her rounds of the residents’ rooms, making sure they’d all settled down after the excitement of the dinner party. None of them appeared to have suffered any ill effects from the unaccustomed wine and the late night – except for Bill, who was sitting at his little table in the alcove, frantically scribbling in an exercise book. She closed the door quietly, anxious not to disturb him. She knew that sedatives were no good. When Bill couldn’t sleep, he wrote, sometimes long into the night. Recently his poetry had become almost lyrical, exploring the beauty of words. But occasionally his work was dark, haunting, a means of exorcising the ghosts which still sometimes plagued him.
As she walked softly down the corridor, Daisy hoped that tonight his thoughts were more cheerful. She’d seen the way he looked at Ruby and wondered if perhaps this poem was about the healing effects of love. Ruby had proved to have a knack for dealing with the patients and had gradually taken over some nursing duties. She and Bill now spent a lot of time together and Daisy hoped that they might soon be celebrating another engagement.
In her room, she kicked off her shoes and sat before the dying fire thinking about Ruby and wondering what would happen if she and Bill did marry. She didn’t want to lose her. There must be a way of making sure that Ruby continued working here.
Romance seemed to be in the air. Even Ernest appeared to be serious in his courtship of Millie, spending a lot of time hanging round the kitchen. Daisy had recently seen him laughing and joking with the maid and Mrs Harris. Was it too much to hope that he had changed? She was glad that she hadn’t interfered when she realized what was going on. Perhaps he’d stop taunting her now that he had someone who cared for him.
He’d better treat her right, that’s all, she thought.
Outside, the wind still howled and she tried to ignore it, grateful for the haven of her little sitting room, where she could relax and be herself. I seem to be able to sort out everyone else’s lives, but what about my own? she thought. Her face ached with the effort of smiling all evening. Sometimes it was hard seeing other people so happy.
As she lay back in the chair and closed her eyes she could almost hear her mother saying, ‘Count your blessings girl. There’s many worse off you know.’ Her eyes snapped open, as if she thought Effie was actually in the room. With a nervous laugh she closed her eyes again, gradually drifting into a doze as the warmth of the fire stole over her.
A door slamming and footsteps in the hall outside brought her wide awake. She jumped up, heart thumping, as she thrust her feet into her shoes and stumbled towards the door. A man’s voice echoed down the corridor as doors opened and shut noisily. ‘Where is everybody? Ma, I’m home.’
Daisy’s heartbeat quickened and her hand trembled as she reached for the door handle. I know that voice, she thought. She’d heard it in her dreams often enough. And she was dreaming now. She must be.
As in dreams, it was impossible to move. Her feet were glued to the floor, while her hand still groped blindly for the door and her heart thundered in her ears.
The door bursting open broke the spell and Ruby was there, her dressing gown untied, her feet bare. ‘Matron, what’s going on? What’s all the noise about? I thought it was one of the boys having a go. But I looked and they’re all tucked up in bed.’
Daisy put a hand on Ruby’s arm to steady herself. ‘It’s all right, Ruby. We’ll find out,’ she said, forcing herself to remain calm.
She hurried towards the main staircase, where the intruder could be heard rampaging along the upper corridor. Ruby stayed close behind. As they reached the bottom stair, the door to the kitchen regions opened and Mrs Harris appeared, Effie close behind. They both looked at Daisy with frightened eyes. ‘Do you think I should fetch Ernest?’ Mrs Harris asked.
‘Not at the moment. I’ll try to deal with it. Ruby will come with me. If necessary I’ll get you to telephone Mr Thornton.’ As she spoke, the door to Georgina’s quarters opened and, to Daisy’s surprise, Henry appeared, Georgina close behind him. She thought he’d gone home ages ago.
Henry immediately took charge, firmly telling the ladies to stay downstairs while he investigated the cause of the disturbance. But Daisy insisted on following him.
‘I think I know who it is,’ she said, although her head was telling her it couldn’t possibly be Jack. But who else would march boldly into the house at this time of night expecting a servant to come running, to take his bag and prepare his room?
Once more Daisy had a vision of Ryfe Hall in the old days, when she’d been newly promoted as Georgina’s maid. They would sit at the window waiting for Jack. Then his car would appear in the drive, swinging round the circular path to stop in a flourish of gravel. He would burst into the house, throwing his bag and cap down, shouting, ‘I’m home, Ma.’ Just as he had tonight, Daisy thought. The hope that he’d survived the sinking of his ship had never quite been extinguished. But now, instead of a surge of joy, a cold finger of fear touched her heart. Something wasn’t right.
She followed Henry into Mick Collins’ room – the room that had once been Jack’s – and stopped short. Mick cowered in the corner, a high-pitched keening coming from his open mouth. A man stood over him threateningly, while Henry tried to pull him away. Was it really Jack?
‘Do you want to wake the whole household?’ Daisy’s sharp voice had the desired effect as the three turned towards her.
When the intruder released the unfortunate Mick, Henry bent and helped him to his feet, assisting him on to his bed where he curled up with his hands over his face.
Until the moment his eyes met hers, Daisy hadn’t really believed that Jack had returned from the dead. But there was no doubt. The resemblance to Georgina was uncanny, the fair wavy hair, the sapphire eyes. But where Georgina had softened and rounded with the passing years, Jack was gaunt, almost skeletal, his clothes hanging off his scarecrow body.
Worst of all was the lack of recognition in the eyes which blazed angrily out of sunken dark hollows. Daisy drew a sharp breath as he shouted, ‘Who the devil are you – and what is this fellow doing in my room?’
He sank down on the end of the bed, running a hand through his hair and sighing heavily, all the fight suddenly gone out of him. ‘Will you please tell me what the blazes is going on, Henry, old chap?’ he asked.
It was clear that Jack was as confused as everyone else. Hiding the hurt she felt that he hadn’t recognized her, Daisy spoke gently but firmly.
‘I’m sorry that no one seems to have informed you that this is no longer your home, Master Jack,’ she said. ‘It’s now a nursing home. However, if you’d let us know you were coming, we would have made sure a bed was ready for you. If you’d like to come downstairs, I’ll get you some refreshments and we can let Mr Collins go back to sleep.’
Mick looked up fearfully. ‘You won’t turn me out, will you, Matron?’ he whispered.
‘This is your room. No one is going to turn you out,’ she replied firmly.
Jack turned to her with a bewildered expression. ‘A nursing home? But where’s my mother? My sister? And who are you?’
‘I’m the Matron of this home, and your sister is right here.’ Daisy said, stepping aside as Georgina rushed in and threw her arms round him.
‘You’re home. Thank God. Whatever happened? Why didn’t you let us know?’ The questions tumbled out as she hugged him, stroking his hair and crying into his shoulder.
‘I wanted to surprise you,’ he said, a trace of his old boyish smile twitching his lips. ‘You don’t know how good it is to be home. But why did you give my room away? How could you do that, Georgie?’ His voice was plaintive and Daisy, listening, realized that instead of a returning lover, she now had another patient.
But he was back, he was safe. Nothing else mattered. Gently, she persuaded Jack and Georgie, still clinging to each other, to come downstairs, leaving Ruby to settle Mick back into bed.
In her sitting room, Henry made up the fire and drew chairs up to the blaze. Daisy watched as Georgina helped Jack into a chair and sat down close beside him, never letting go of his hand.
How she longed to be the one hovering over him so solicitously. But she knew it wouldn’t do, not while he was still so confused. Instead, as usual, she covered her feelings with activity, going to the kitchens to help Mrs Harris prepare hot drinks and a snack supper.
As she bustled around setting a tray, the housekeeper avidly questioned her. ‘Is it really Master Jack, who we thought to have drowned these past three years? Fancy,’ she exclaimed. ‘Where’s he been? What happened to him?’
Daisy answered wearily, ‘I don’t think he’s in a fit state to tell us. He’s tired and confused. He doesn’t look at all well. Perhaps he was a prisoner somewhere. It will all come out eventually. But I think for tonight, we’d best let him rest.’ She took the tray and said, ‘In fact, I think we all need some rest. Maybe things will be clearer in the morning.’
When she got back, Georgina was still holding Jack’s hand, while Henry stood with his back to the fire. She set the tray down and poured cocoa from the big jug. But Henry made no move to take his. ‘I think it best if I leave you to it now, Georgie,’ he said. ‘I’ll come back in the morning. Are you sure you’ll be all right now?’
Georgina got up and went to him, kissing him on the lips. ‘I’m sorry our celebration day had to end like this,’ she said quietly. ‘It’s not how I planned it at all.’ A ghost of her usual mischievous smile appeared, and Henry coughed and looked embarrassed. She took his hand and led him outside, leaving Daisy and Jack alone.
‘Well, Matron, I expect you realize all this has come as a shock to me. I had no idea what had been going on while I was away. I think my mother or one of the family might have written to let me know,’ Jack said, leaning forward.
‘I’m sure they would have – if they’d known where you were,’ Daisy said.
A shadow crossed Jack’s face, then he brightened. ‘I was in hospital. Surely someone informed my family?’
‘How long were you there?’ Daisy hesitated, not sure how to address him – he wasn’t ‘Master Jack’ any more and Lieutenant Davenport seemed absurd after what they’d been to each other. But he didn’t seem to know her. What effect would it have on his state of mind if she threw herself at him, sobbing, ‘Jack, darling’?
After a long hesitation, he said, ‘I was there a couple of weeks I think.’ The puzzled frown crossed his face again. ‘It might have been longer. I get these headaches you know. Makes it hard to remember. Got a bit of a knock on the head.’
‘Did your sister tell you anything while I was out of the room?’ Daisy asked.
‘Only that she was nursing here and that the mater was staying down in Kent with Uncle George. Imagine my little sister – a nurse.’ A trace of the old Jack, the smile that had always had the power to melt her heart, appeared fleetingly, then was gone. He looked down at his hands. ‘Seems funny though, coming back and finding a strange chap sleeping in my bed. Gave me quite a shock, I can tell you.’
‘Gave him a shock too,’ Daisy said before she could stop herself, and was rewarded with the ghost of a smile.
‘I’ll apologize to the fellow in the morning,’ he said. Then he leaned over and picked up a sandwich. ‘God, I’m starving.’
‘You always used to say that when you got home on leave,’ Georgina said, coming into the room. ‘Don’t they feed you in the navy?’
The uncertain look showed again. ‘Navy?’ he said and a shutter dropped down over his face.
‘He’s been in hospital,’ Daisy said quickly, before Georgina could speak again.
‘Left there this morning. Took me all day to get here,’ Jack said, wolfing down the sandwiches and draining his mug of cocoa.
‘You must be tired then,’ Georgina said. ‘I’ve organized a bed for him, Daisy. Why don’t you go to bed yourself? I’ll see to Jack. We can talk in the morning.’
They left the room and Daisy gathered up the supper things and took the tray down to the kitchen. Mrs Harris had gone to bed and the house was quiet. Daisy turned off the lights and stood at the foot of the stairs listening. It would hardly be surprising if some of the patients suffered a disturbed night after the noisy finale to what had already been an exciting evening. But all was quiet and with a sigh Daisy returned to her own room.
She was bone weary but she knew she wouldn’t sleep. She undressed and brushed her teeth anyway. Then she uncoiled and brushed her long dark hair, something she never failed to do, however tired she was. As she wielded the brush she looked at herself in the mirror, noting the lines that had appeared under her eyes and round her mouth, the paleness of her cheeks. She was too thin also, never having regained the weight she’d lost during her illness in Malta. No wonder he didn’t recognize me, she thought. I look like an old woman. With a choked sob she threw the brush down on the dressing table and gave way to tears of relief that Jack was safe and home at last
But mingled with the relief was the fear that although he had returned in body, her Jack – the real Jack – was lost to her for ever.