It was Christmas Day and Daisy was handing out presents in the large drawing room, assisted by an excited Jackie. He toddled round the room, his face flushed with importance, presenting the parcels as she called out the names. Residents and staff were gathered round the Christmas tree in the drawing room. Even Mick, who since Jack’s dramatic return to Ryfe Hall had become withdrawn and anxious again, had been persuaded to join the party.
Everyone had joined in with the preparations. Dick and Joe had brought in baskets of logs early that morning, stacking them in the hall so that no one would have to brave the icy wind outside to replenish the fires. The house was filled with the rich scent of burning apple wood.
Ernest had cut a fir tree and dragged it in, even staying to help Millie decorate it. Daisy hoped the girl wouldn’t end up getting hurt. It was obvious she was smitten but she knew it would be no use warning her. Still, Ernest seemed much less surly these days, although she didn’t really believe he’d changed. She forced herself to smile and handed him his gaily wrapped gift.
She glanced across at Henry, who was chatting quietly with Peter. He and Georgina had originally decided to get married on Christmas Day but Jack’s unexpected return had thrown their plans into disarray. Georgina was determined that Jack would give her away and had persuaded Henry to wait until her brother was fully recovered.
Remembering the night of the engagement party, Daisy’s smile faded. Her joy at Jack’s return, quickly followed by despair that things would never be the same between them, had settled now into a dull acceptance. Jack was home, safe. But he wasn’t the Jack she’d known in happier times. And, while she still hoped, she often asked herself if he ever would be.
He was laughing now at something Georgina had said, but behind the laughter Daisy could see the bewilderment and uncertainty that clouded his eyes so often. Since his return he had shown flashes of the old Jack and gradually pieces of the past were coming back to him. But he still looked on Daisy as the servant she’d once been, or as now, treated her with the respect due to the matron in charge of the home.
The presents were all handed out and opened, amid laughter and teasing. When Roger went to the piano and started to play ‘Silent Night’, Daisy couldn’t bear to listen. She got up and left the room quietly, going to the kitchen to prepare tea.
She hastily wiped away a tear when she heard the door open, thinking it was Mrs Harris come to help her. Peter’s voice startled her. ‘Brings back memories, doesn’t it?’ he said.
Daisy nodded. She too had been thinking of that Christmas in Malta, the simple decorations, the scrounged gifts and extra food for the patients. Since her return to England the season hadn’t meant much to her. She’d still been ill and grieving for Jack the first Christmas at home, then last year they’d just opened the home and most of the residents were too sick to enjoy the celebrations.
This year had promised to be different and it would have been if only Jack would recover.
‘I shouldn’t be hiding out here snivelling,’ she said with an attempt at a smile. ‘I have so much to be thankful for.’
‘I understand, Daisy. I just wish there was something I could do,’ Peter replied.
‘I know – I just have to be patient. I could bear it if only I knew for sure that one day Jack would get better. It’s this uncertainty,’ Daisy said with a sob.
‘But he is getting better. Every time I see him, I notice more improvement. He’s remembered a lot of what happened after the ship went down, hasn’t he?’
Jack hadn’t recalled everything. In fact, there had been no sudden flash of remembrance. Little things would come out in the course of conversation and they had been able to piece together his adventures after being picked up by fishermen off one of the Greek islands. They had cared for him for months and when he’d recovered physically they had taken him to the mainland where he had tried to find his way back to the allied lines. But he had been picked up by the enemy. In the prison camp he’d been beaten and starved in an attempt to make him reveal who he was and what he was doing so far behind the lines.
The beatings had confused him still further as well as weakening his already frail constitution. If the war hadn’t ended when it did, Peter felt it was doubtful he would have survived. The miracle was that he’d made it back to England by his own efforts.
Daisy sniffed and blew her nose, then started stacking crockery onto a tray. ‘Don’t worry about me. I’ll be all right. Just so long as I keep busy,’ she said.
Peter put his hand on her arm. ‘You don’t have to drive yourself like this. It’s not the answer.’ He turned her to face him. ‘I know how hard it is for you, seeing him every day. Perhaps you ought to get away from here – for a while at least.’
‘Where would I go?’ she asked. ‘Not that I want to leave here,’ she added hastily.
‘You could marry me,’ he said quietly.
Daisy was silent for a moment. ‘Do you really think I would, loving Jack as I do? And what’s more, do you really want me, knowing you’d always be second best?’ She gasped and bit her lip. She hadn’t meant to be cruel.
Peter sighed and dropped his hands to his sides. ‘I love you enough for both of us. And I just hate to see you wasting your life, living in hope of something that will probably never happen.’
‘But you said he would get better, that one day he might remember,’ Daisy protested.
‘The possibility is always there, of course. But I think if it was going to happen, it would have by now. He’s been back two months, nearly three. He sees you every day, Daisy. Surely something of what he felt for you would have surfaced by now.’
He paced the kitchen floor, stopping beside the sink and pounding his fist on the wooden draining board. ‘God, I wish he’d never come back,’ he muttered.
Daisy was by his side in a moment, her eyes flashing. ‘How could you? That’s a wicked thing to say.’
His face was stricken and he held out a placating hand. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I wouldn’t hurt you for the world. It’s just – I thought you were beginning to accept – that maybe I stood a chance.’ His shoulders slumped.
Daisy took his hand and was about to speak when the door opened. Millie came in, closely followed by Ernest.
Peter turned away and picked up the tray. ‘Time for tea, I think,’ he said. Daisy filled the big teapot and the jug of hot water and put them on the trolley, which was already loaded with plates of sandwiches and cake, ready for Millie to wheel into the drawing room. There was only one more tray to take through and Daisy picked it up, ignoring Ernest.
He gave a mock bow and held the door open for her. As she passed, he murmured, ‘Good catch, the doc. I hope you’ll both be very happy, Matron.’ The insolence was back in his voice and Daisy, disdaining a reply, knew he hadn’t changed.
Back in the drawing room she tried hard to enter into the spirit of the occasion. Everyone else seemed to be enjoying Christmas but she couldn’t forget Peter’s words, or the gleam of malice in Ernest’s eye.
She watched Jack playing with his nephew and smiled, despite the ache in her heart. The frown had gone and he was laughing. Although he sometimes got confused, thinking Henry was the boy’s father, he seemed more himself as he played with the boy.
When the party began to break up, Georgina and Henry took Jackie upstairs for his bath. The residents went to their rooms, tired out by the celebrations, and the servants resumed their roles and set about clearing up the debris of their late tea.
As Peter got up to leave, Daisy went with him to the front door. She’d hardly spoken to him since they’d left the kitchen and she wanted to reassure herself that they were still friends.
‘I’m sorry,’ they both said together as Peter hesitated at the top of the steps. Then they both gave embarrassed laughs.
‘I shouldn’t have spoken out,’ Peter said. ‘It’s just – well, you know how I feel.’
‘Yes. I’m sorry too – that I can’t see things the way you do. I must keep hoping. There’s nothing else I can do.’
He nodded and ran down the steps to his car, pausing to wave before driving off. Daisy stood looking after him until a gust of cold wind sent her inside. She went round the house checking that all was secure, then upstairs to look in on the men before going to her own room. As she prepared for bed she went over the conversation with Peter in her mind, biting her lip as she acknowledged the truth of what he’d said.
Peter was right – if Jack was going to remember, surely he’d have done so by now. Since his return, the thought that their love affair hadn’t meant as much to him as it had to her would often intrude, despite her attempts to deny it. The thoughts often came during the black hours of the night when she couldn’t sleep. Then she would ask herself if she was being foolish in refusing Peter. But in the cold light of day, she had only to catch a fleeting glimpse of Jack as he played with Jackie or laughed with Georgina, to know that she would always love him and that she would wait as long as necessary.
I won’t give up hope. I can’t, she told herself as she vigorously brushed her long dark hair before getting into bed. Jack was here, he was safe, and she should be grateful for that – even if he carried on calling her ‘Matron’ for ever.
The decorations had been taken down and the tree was turning brown and dusty in a corner of the yard. Peter hadn’t visited since Christmas but he telephoned to say he was on duty at the hospital on New Year’s Eve. Daisy was relieved that he seemed his usual self and hoped that he would never mention his feelings for her again. If only he’d meet a nice nurse and forget about me, she thought.
But there were other more pressing matters for her to attend to and she sighed as she shut herself into her office to go over the accounts and make lists of items that would need ordering. She’d rather let the paperwork lapse lately, due to the holidays and her worry about Jack. I really must get down to some work, she thought, opening the ledger and picking up her pen, only to throw it down again with a sigh as a knock came on the door.
‘Come in.’
‘Daisy, I wondered if you’ve got time for a chat,’ Georgina said, smiling. ‘Don’t look like that. I know you’re busy, but this is important.’
‘I’m never too busy for you, Georgie. What’s the problem?’
‘I hardly know how to begin really,’ her friend said, chewing her lip.
Daisy looked at her in concern. ‘What is it? You’re not having second thoughts again, I hope?’
‘Of course not. No, it’s Millie.’
‘Oh dear.’ Daisy’s heart sank as her own fears were confirmed.
‘I think she might be pregnant. But I didn’t want to say anything. I thought you or Mrs Harris might have a word with her.’
‘Jenkins, I suppose? The man’s nothing but trouble!’ Daisy exclaimed. Why had she let herself be talked into letting him stay? Still, this could be the chance to be rid of him at last.
‘I don’t think he forced her – they seem fond of each other,’ Georgina ventured.
‘Let’s hope you’re wrong but he’d better marry her if he’s responsible,’ Daisy said, getting up and poking the fire, venting her feelings on the hot coals. ‘I knew I should have warned her about him.’
Georgina sat down. ‘We must sort this out before she starts to show. I don’t think the trustees would be happy about it if they knew.’
Daisy hadn’t thought of that. ‘I don’t care – it’s the perfect excuse to get rid of him.’ She sighed. ‘I’d better speak to Millie first.’
‘I’ll leave it to you then,’ Georgina said. ‘I must go and help Susan,’ she said.
Daisy abandoned all thoughts of doing the accounts and hurried down the corridor towards the kitchens. Despite her satisfaction that she now had the opportunity to dismiss Ernest, her sympathies were with Millie.
Mrs Harris was rolling out pastry when Daisy entered in search of Millie. ‘In there crying,’ she said, jerking her shoulder in the direction of the scullery. ‘We won’t need any salt in the potatoes if she keeps this up.’
‘Georgina told me she thinks the girl’s in trouble.’
‘She won’t confide in me, but I guessed.’ Mrs Harris turned the pastry round and thumped the rolling pin down.
Daisy found Millie sniffing and wiping her nose with the back of her hand, in between attacking the potatoes and throwing them into the pan of cold water.
‘What’s the matter, Millie?’ Daisy asked, pretending she had no idea.
The reply was a loud wail, followed by a torrent of tears. Daisy sat her down in front of the range and took her hands. ‘Tell me. I promise we’ll help if we can.’
‘There’s nothing you can do. You’ll just send me away.’
‘Nobody’s going to send you away. Now dry your eyes and tell me.’
Millie gave a shuddering sob and wiped her eyes. She stared into the fire, twisting her apron in her hands. After a few minutes she looked up into Daisy’s face. ‘I’ve been a bad girl, Matron. But I didn’t mean no harm. I love him and I thought he loved me. I would never have let him …’ Her voice trailed off and tears threatened again.
‘You are talking about Ernest, I take it?’ Daisy asked.
Millie nodded. ‘When I told him we’d have to get married, he just laughed.’
Daisy let go of Millie’s hands and jumped up. ‘I’ll give him laugh. Mrs Harris, send someone to find him. He’ll get a piece of my mind, treating the poor girl like this.’
As the housekeeper wiped her floury hands on her apron, Millie grabbed at Daisy’s arm. ‘No, please. Don’t say anything,’ she begged.
‘He must be made to see where his duty lies,’ Daisy said and Mrs Harris nodded.
‘But you don’t understand. It doesn’t matter now. It was a false alarm.’
‘Oh Millie, why didn’t you say so?’ She put her arm round the girl. ‘Why all the tears then? Mind, I’m not condoning it. But I think you’ve had a lucky escape.’
‘But I love him. I thought he wanted to marry me.’
Daisy sighed. Couldn’t the silly girl see Ernest Jenkins for what he was? She couldn’t be angry with her though.
‘Did he ever say he wanted to marry you?’ she asked.
‘Not in so many words. But we was walking out.’ Millie began to cry again. ‘I thought it’d be nice, living in his flat over the stables, a place of our own,’ she snivelled.
Daisy sympathized, knowing that Millie came from a very poor background. She’d been glad to get the position at Ryfe Hall with her own room and decent food. A home of her own must have seemed a dream come true. She sighed impatiently. He’d laughed when Millie told him she was pregnant and yet the silly girl said she loved him. How could she possibly want to marry him? Still, she’d promised to help, so she would talk to him.
‘Do you really want to marry him?’ she asked.
Millie nodded, then shook her head. ‘I don’t know. He was really nasty when I told him.’ She put her apron up to her face again and Daisy waited for another flood of tears. But she wiped her eyes and gave a shuddering sigh. ‘I s’pose my mum was right,’ she said in a small voice. ‘Once you let them – you know – they don’t have any respect for you.’ She straightened her shoulders and stood up. ‘Well, I’ve learnt my lesson. Now, I’d better get on with those vegetables.’
Daisy smiled. ‘Good girl. Now, are you sure it really was a false alarm?’
Millie nodded and managed a tremulous smile in return. ‘You were right, Matron. I’ve had a lucky escape.’
‘I think so. You’re far too good for him, Millie.’
‘That’s not what he thinks,’ Millie retorted. ‘He said he had his sights set higher than a scrawny little kitchen maid.’
Hot anger surged through Daisy’s body like a forest fire, but she managed to restrain her furious retort. He just wasn’t worth it, she told herself.
When the girl had returned to her chores, Daisy vented her feelings. ‘Why did I let myself be talked into employing him, Mrs Harris?’ she asked. ‘I knew what he was like.’
‘I never liked the man. But he works hard and I did hope he’d changed his ways,’ Mrs Harris said. ‘What will you do, Daisy?’
Daisy admitted she wasn’t sure. ‘I would have made him face up to it, if Millie was going to have a baby. But now, I think we should just let it lie,’ she decided.
‘Well, I’m not having him in my kitchen again,’ the housekeeper said. ‘I put up with him hanging round when I thought he and Millie were courting proper like. He can have his meals in his own quarters from now on.’
Daisy agreed and left Mrs Harris to get on with her cooking. ‘I’ll just go and set Georgina’s mind at rest. She was rather worried about Millie,’ she said. As she went into the drawing room, she pondered Millie’s remark. What had Ernest meant by ‘setting his sights higher’?
Georgina was talking to Mick Collins, who still hadn’t completely recovered from the setback caused by Jack’s unexpected return. Although they’d persuaded him to come downstairs for Christmas Day, he’d soon retreated to the sanctuary of his room. He had even lost interest in gardening, despite Joe’s pleas for his help. Daisy could only hope that when the milder weather came they could tempt him outside but for now she felt it was best to leave him alone.
She beckoned Georgina out into the corridor. ‘How is he today?’ she asked, nodding in the direction of the room.
‘A bit better, I think. At least he’s talking to me. But we ought to get Peter to have a look at him next time he comes.’
Daisy agreed and she went on to reassure Georgina that her fears about Millie’s condition were unfounded. ‘She thought she was pregnant, but it was a false alarm.’
‘Why was she looking so miserable then? I would’ve thought she’d be relieved.’
Daisy explained how deluded the girl had been about Ernest’s intentions and what he’d said about setting his sights higher.
‘Well, I knew he fancied you,’ Georgina said, ‘and I’ve seen the way he looks at you when he thinks no one’s about.’
‘Nonsense,’ Daisy replied, colouring angrily. ‘He hates me. We should never have let him stay. He’s trouble.’
‘It occurred to me that this trouble with Millie might be grounds for sacking him but she was a willing party. We’ll just have to hope he steps out of line,’ Georgina said.
‘His trial period is up next week but so far he hasn’t put a foot wrong with me, outwardly at least.’ Daisy got up and went to the door. ‘I’m going to talk to him right now. He shouldn’t be allowed to get away with it.’
Georgina stood up too. ‘Calm down, Daisy. It won’t do the slightest good. You can’t dismiss him without explaining your reasons to the trustees and you don’t want to do that, do you?’
Daisy resumed her seat and put her head in her hands. ‘You’re right, of course.’ She looked up with a determined gleam in her eye. ‘But I’m going to keep an eye on him from now on. The slightest sign of trouble-making again and out he goes, disabled war veteran or no.’