A spasm of shame tweaked at my conscience, but it didn’t alter my opinion of Daniel Pencarrow. To be captured and held prisoner in Korea must have been horrific, but it was no reason to take it out on good people like William and Deborah, or innocent strangers such as myself. I simply couldn’t forgive him for his ungracious behaviour towards me.
‘Now that his Great Aunt Marianne has died, I don’t suppose anyone knows Daniel better than I do,’ Edwin said almost apologetically. A group of Dartmoor ponies had congregated in the centre of Princetown, drawn by Easter visitors who were feeding them titbits, and Edwin had been obliged to stop the car until they ambled off again. ‘We’ve been friends since we were toddlers, even if Daniel was brought up in London.’
‘London?’ I was genuinely surprised. ‘But I thought—’
‘Oh, Fencott Place has been the Warrington family home since the eighteen seventies.’
‘Fencott Place? Is that what the house is called?’
‘Yes. Not that I ever remember there being a nameplate up anywhere. The Warringtons were pretty wealthy at one time. Made their money from worldwide investments, but particularly from the South African diamond fields. Ah, we can go now.’ Edwin put the car into first and we moved smoothly through the village and back past the prison. ‘But they lost a lot of money because of the Great War,’ he continued, ‘and soon afterwards, the old couple both died, not that either of them were that old. There was a son, but he was killed at the Somme. So that just left the two daughters. They were both eccentric, real characters. Marianne lived with her crippled husband at Fencott, but remember I told you Daniel’s grandmother married a Pencarrow? Well, he was more interested in business affairs than farming, so he left the family farm in his brother’s hands – that’s Great Uncle Joshua who gave Daniel the puppy – and took his wife and children to London to salvage what he could of the Warrington fortune.’
‘And that’s how Daniel came to be born in London?’
‘That’s right. But the family always came back to Fencott Place or the farm at Peter Tavy for long holidays, especially in the summer. And through my grandmother, we always saw a lot of them, too. And Daniel and I being more or less the same age, we became pretty close.’
Edwin paused as he brought the car to a halt at the junction with the main road, and I shook my head. ‘I’m a bit confused with all these different people. You’ll have to draw me a family tree.’
He chuckled as we pulled onto the main road and headed for home. ‘Yes, it is quite complicated. But you get the general picture?’
‘Yes, I think so. But what’s Daniel doing here now?’ I asked as the story had aroused my interest. Not so much in Daniel, but because it seemed to involve Edwin and I wanted to know everything about him.
‘Recuperating basically. Physically and mentally. Fencott’s more his home than London, even if his family’s still there. You see, he and I were ten years old when war broke out again, and it seemed logical for him to be evacuated here to live with his great aunt who he absolutely adored. They were like soulmates. Daniel and I were at school together in Tavistock all through the war, but at weekends and during the holidays, Great Aunt Marianne just let him run wild on the moor. And more often than not, I was with him. Fencott was my second home. I spent more time studying, though, than Daniel. He was always one of those infuriating people who did very little work and yet always got top marks in exams.’
Oh, well, yes, that would be typical, I thought begrudgingly, but I didn’t want Edwin to know how I felt, so I asked, ‘So what happened after the war?’
‘Well, Daniel refused to go back to his parents in London. Dartmoor was his home. He even played for the local football team. A damned fine player he was, too.’
The scene in Bolts back in the autumn flashed across my memory. It fitted with what Edwin was saying. I wondered why Daniel no longer played, but the discourteous way he had refused remained fresh in my mind.
‘He got his way by agreeing to work harder at school,’ Edwin went on as we cruised down Pork Hill. ‘Got into Oxford and got a first in English. Said he wanted to do his degree while he still felt fresh, so he deferred his National Service. If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have been caught up in Korea.’
‘What about you?’ I asked, filled with sudden apprehension. ‘Did you defer yours?’
‘Oh, yes. It takes years to qualify in medicine. I’ll have to do it at some time, unless it’s phased out, of course. As a medic, I can defer it until I’m as old as thirty. And then I can go in on a short service commission so I get better pay and probably married quarters. Assuming I’ve tied the knot with some lovely lady by then.’
He took his eyes off the road for a second to turn to me and smile.
I missed Edwin dreadfully. I cried myself to sleep the following night, keeping my face buried in the pillow to muffle my sobs. I think Wendy had guessed, but I didn’t want anyone else to know how Edwin had captured my heart. I had to persuade myself that he was safe in London which wasn’t so far away, unlike during the war when thousands had said goodbye to their sweethearts, not knowing if they would ever see them alive again.
I imagined going with Edwin to some British Forces posting as his wife, and a little knot tightened deliciously inside me. Perhaps to somewhere exotic like Egypt. I had an image of living in an Army garrison, sipping gin and tonic with the other officers’ wives. Not that I had ever tasted gin. What else did they do, I wondered. I wouldn’t want to be bored, and I’d prefer to have a useful role of some sort. But as long as I was with Edwin, I’d be happy.
I had plenty to do, though, during those first few weeks of his absence. I sifted through all Sidney’s personal effects, hoping they would reveal some more clues about my past, but there was little to go on. I found a box of wage envelopes going back years, so he had evidently been paid in cash, but there was no trace of a bank or Post Office account. So what had he done with all his money, as I was sure he hadn’t spent all his salary on living expenses? Not that I wanted anything for myself, but I was curious. He had shown me a couple of photographs of my half-brothers as babies, and I came across one of my mother as a bride that I hadn’t seen before.
There was nothing else except a bound notebook I had found in a small bureau that had stood in the parlour at both our homes. The book appeared to be a diary with a few newspaper cuttings between the leaves. At first, I couldn’t bring myself to read it. It seemed too personal. And then one day I summoned up the courage. It fell open at the entry for the day I had left London and travelled down to my new home. The brat arrived today, I read. My stomach corkscrewed in agony and I slammed the book shut. I was devastated. Was that how Sidney had thought of me? And was that why he had been so furious when I had dusted the parlour, in case I had found the diary? It somehow destroyed the relationship we had finally built up and I didn’t want to ruin my happier memories of him. So I put everything back in the box, and asked William to put it in the loft for me where it remained, forlorn and soon forgotten.
There was never a dull moment in the Franfield household, and Wendy and I grew even closer. It was like having Jeannie back again. The firm of solicitors she worked for had just interviewed a young man who was about to graduate in law, and she had already earmarked him as her future boyfriend.
‘And then you and Edwin can come out with us in a foursome!’ she declared, her eyes rakishly teasing.
I was sure I turned a shade of beetroot. ‘If you think Edwin would want to,’ I said casually, ‘that would be very nice.’
‘Of course Edwin would want to!’ Wendy retorted. ‘He really likes you, Lily.’
‘How do you know?’ I quizzed her. ‘Has he said so?’
‘He doesn’t need to.’
‘Anyway, he’s not here,’ I observed a little truculently.
‘But he will be soon. For two weeks in August!’
I couldn’t wait. May brought clouds of bluebells nodding among red and white campion in the hedgerows. On the open moor, splashes of vivid gorse filled our nostrils with sweet scent and mingled with spikes of freshly blooming heather, while swathes of verdant ferns uncurled as the new season progressed. June became July, and the simmering excitement I kept locked inside began to froth and foam. I treated myself to a new summer dress with a belted waist and a full, flaring skirt to accentuate my slim figure. I hoped Edwin would notice.
‘Happy Birthday, Lily!’ everyone chorused on the twenty-eighth. I was bursting with happiness as the Franfields regaled me with cards and presents and a special supper. But most wonderful of all was a card from Edwin. Signed with love.
‘And this is our main present to you,’ William winked as he handed me an envelope. ‘A course of driving lessons. I hope you get on better than Wendy did. Deborah finds it so useful.’
‘I gave up,’ Wendy grimaced with such a long face that it made me smile and brought me back to my senses. I had been dumbstruck. Learn to drive? Cars were still a largely male domain. Growing numbers of tourists were coming up onto the moor in their little Morris Minors and Austin Sevens, but the thought of being behind the wheel myself had sent me into a state of stupefaction.
‘Thank you so much!’ I cried as the shrill tones of the telephone out in the hall burst through my awestruck daze.
‘For you, Lily,’ Wendy announced through the open door. ‘Edwin.’
Edwin? For me? My heart leapfrogged into my throat as I tottered out on wobbly legs. I picked up the receiver in a hand that was beginning to ooze sweat.
‘Happy Birthday! You having a good time?’
His voice at the other end of the line was so natural and familiar that I no longer felt nervous. It was just so wonderful to hear him, as if he hadn’t been away all that time.
‘Oh, yes! Everyone’s been so kind. And thank you so much for your card.’
‘My pleasure. I thought I’d bring your present rather than post it. It’s less than a fortnight before I come home.’
‘Yes, I know. I’m really looking forward to it!’
‘Are you?’ He sounded pleasantly surprised, and I shivered with elation. ‘Can you put Mum on the line now, Lily?’
‘Yes, of course. See you soon, then. Hope you have a good journey down.’
‘Thanks. I’m sure I will. See you then, Lily, love.’
Lily love. I hugged the words to my heart, repeating them in my head whenever I turned over in bed at night. Wendy was right. Edwin really did like me!
‘The National Trust certainly know how to pick their places, don’t they? Thrilling, isn’t it?’
‘Absolutely!’
The five of us, William and Deborah, Wendy, Edwin and me had gone to Lydford Gorge. We had followed the zigzagging path down through the wooded ravine to the White Lady waterfall and now we were clambering alongside the river on uneven, slippery rock. I took Edwin’s hand whenever he offered it to me whether I needed his help or not. The water was so clear over the gravel bed that we could see trout lying in wait for a passing snack.
The rush of swirling cascades gradually became deafening as the sky narrowed to a slit above us. We stole beneath vertical overhanging rocks glistening with water that dripped between a camouflage of emerald moss, lichen, harts tongue and springing ferns, the smell of dank earth and vegetation overpowering. And then we saw the river thundering through the crevasse, sweeping in a maddened vortex inside the cauldrons it had gouged out of the rock over millions of years.
I was enthralled, not least because I was with Edwin in this romantic, magical place. We were standing side by side, our faces so close as Edwin studied the wonderment on my face that I was convinced that, had we been alone, he would have kissed me.
It had been the same a few days previously. William had been needed at the hospital but Edwin had driven the rest of us to his grandparents’ home in the picturesque riverside village of Newton Ferrers. It was a lovely ride but, sitting in the back, I spent much of the time studying Edwin’s profile as he turned his head to watch for traffic, his bare forearm flexing as he changed gear. Once he caught my eye in the rear-view mirror and smiled at me.
His grandparents lived in a delightful cottage fronting directly onto the river. A narrow lane ran past the front door and on the other side, their garden dropped straight down to the water. We sat on the terrace admiring the quaint village of Noss Mayo across the broad, muddy estuary and watching the tide coming in. The river grew more lovely with every minute, and I felt at peace with the world. I could never bring Ellen back, but now I had a safe and secure future to anticipate, and at the heart of it would be the handsome, intelligent, caring young man who now lounged on the grass beside me.
‘Would you mind if we took the boat out, Gramps, now the tide’s coming in?’ Edwin asked, his face aflame with boyish enthusiasm.
‘Not at all. I’ll help you get it in the water.’
Five minutes later, Edwin took my hand to help me into the little rowing boat. Fortunately, I was wearing shorts which allowed me the freedom to clamber aboard, and I flushed with excitement as I sat down on the wooden seat opposite Edwin as my bare legs would be under his nose. They were shapely and sun-tanned and surely he couldn’t help but notice them as he rowed us right out across the river. Certainly I watched his hair blowing in the wind and the exposed V at the open neck of his shirt as he leant towards me with each stroke.
‘Want a go?’ he enquired. ‘Pity Daniel’s not here. He’s a stronger rower than I am.’
Personally I was glad Daniel Pencarrow wasn’t with us! He’d have ruined a perfect day.
‘Yes, I’ll row for a bit. I’ve done it before, on the boating lake in Battersea Park.’
The boat rocked as we swapped places, and I instinctively grabbed onto Edwin. His shoulder was bony through his shirt, and I relished the feel of him beneath my hand. My cheek was next to his and our eyes met. If Wendy hadn’t been watching from the bow, who knows what might have happened next! I was determined to row well and could have died when after a while, my arms were tiring and instead of sliding beneath the water, one oar skimmed a glittering arc into the air and all over Edwin.
‘Oh, please don’t drown me!’ he begged with mock pleading, and with a roar of laughter, scooped a handful of water over me in return. I dropped one of the oars to splash him back, and it slipped out of its rowlock and into the water, and I nearly fell overboard getting it back. It was a glorious day, and it wasn’t until after our visit to Lydford Gorge that I was reminded of Edwin’s mention of Daniel.
‘I’m going to give Daniel a ring,’ he announced one evening. ‘I must spend some time with him before I go back. You girls will come, won’t you? I know he’d love to see you both.’
Oh, he would, would he? But what could I say to Edwin? On the spur of the moment, I couldn’t think of a valid excuse, particularly when Wendy protested and Edwin mildly reprimanded her. The following afternoon, Wendy dived into the back seat so that I could sit in the front with Edwin. She seemed secretly as determined for us to be together as I was! But the plan backfired slightly.
‘Why don’t you drive, Lily?’ Edwin suggested.
I broke out in a sudden sweat. Drive? With Edwin?
‘I don’t think I’m up to driving on the moor yet,’ I objected warily.
‘Dad’s taken you out in the Rover nearly every day. He says you’re really good. How many lessons have you had?’
‘Four,’ I mumbled.
‘Well, have a go, and if you don’t feel happy, I’ll take over.’
I was more nervous than ever, my pulse racing like a traction engine, and not helped by the prospect of seeing Daniel at the end of it. I navigated the streets of Tavistock with no problem, but stalled turning up the steep hill of Mount Tavy. I felt sick, but Edwin calmly talked me through it and soon we were climbing steadily onto the moor. By the time we reached Princetown and turned up Tor Royal Lane, I was feeling more confident. As I brought the car to a smooth halt on the gravel outside Fencott Place, Edwin turned to me with a proud smile. I had barely turned off the engine, when the tall figure of Daniel Pencarrow appeared, and we all tumbled out of the car. I couldn’t help but feel embarrassed as I went to hand Edwin the keys.
‘Lily drove all the way!’ were Edwin’s first words to his friend. ‘Didn’t she do well? She’s only been learning three weeks.’
Daniel dipped his head towards the Rover. ‘It’s a big car for a little thing like you,’ he said without expression. ‘You’d find the jeep easier.’ Then he turned away to greet Edwin and Wendy properly and the three of them ambled off around the side of the house, leaving me standing there like a lemon.
I felt peeved. An outsider. And what the hell had Daniel meant by his deadpan words? I stomped after them, irritated that Edwin had put his precious friend first and dropped his gentlemanly attitude to me if only for a moment. I was glad when I followed through a side gate and Trojan bounded up to me in a flurry of welcome. He seemed more of a young dog than the puppy-like bundle of last time, but he still jumped up at me like a jack-in-the-box.
‘Trojan, sit,’ Daniel commanded and the dog immediately obeyed, his tail still swishing. ‘Good dog! Trojan, come.’ Once again, the young collie did as he was told, and to my surprise, Daniel squatted down to reward him with a generous hug. ‘He must learn not to jump up,’ Daniel explained, looking up at me quite affably. ‘Some people don’t like it, and he could knock a child over. Oh, shut the gate, would you, Lily? I don’t want him sneaking out alone.’ And then he went to catch up with the others.
I suppose that was civil enough, but I still felt left out. I hadn’t seen the back of the house before, though, and I was curious. I had vaguely noticed that the front gardens were now immaculate and the windows had been repainted, and now it seemed that the rear of the property was receiving similar attention. A wide flag-stoned terrace ran the full length of the back wall with wide steps leading down to an extensive lawn with one or two trees and several flower beds. It was still partially overgrown as if it had been neglected for years, but the rest was well tended. Someone – Daniel I supposed – had a mammoth task on their hands, and when I glanced back at the house, a ladder was propped up at one of the windows and various tins of paint were neatly stacked against the wall.
I turned my back on the superb view over the moor and followed the others through the second of two sets of French doors. I found myself in a huge room with a magnificent fireplace but a threadbare carpet and sofas and armchairs in dire need of recovering. The floorboards, though, were polished to a high lustre and the wooden furniture gleamed. Someone had been hard at work!
‘You girls make yourselves at home, and Edwin and I’ll make some coffee. My family’s coming down next week so I’ve been stocking up and I’ve got the real stuff now. Especially for you, Carrots,’ he added with a sly wink at me and then disappeared out of the door before I had a chance to react.
I ground my teeth as I glared after him, and Wendy spun round to face me. ‘Did he call you Carrots? Oh, how rude! How dare he? Your hair’s gorgeous, Lily. Like gold. Edwin said so the other day!’
‘Did he?’ My heart stopped beating and I almost swooned. I felt instantly so much better! Blow Daniel! I shouldn’t let him upset me, but the remnants of my agitation kept me on my feet and I wandered about the room, inspecting all I found. I guessed everything had belonged to the Great Aunt Marianne who Daniel had apparently worshipped. Next to the door hung a Victorian portrait of a stunningly beautiful woman. A thick ringlet of glossy, raven hair coiled down one shoulder, giving a devil-may-care character to the otherwise formal pose. Yet the facial expression was so full of vitality, so alive, I thought the lips were about to move and speak to me. She seemed familiar, and then I recognised the violet-blue eyes that were staring at me from the canvas.
‘That’s Daniel’s great grandmother,’ Wendy informed me. ‘Isn’t she glorious? An amazing person, they say. Never afraid to speak her mind, but so bighearted. Daniel looks like her, don’t you think?’
‘Yes, I do,’ I mumbled. And then, throwing caution to the wind since I was aware of Wendy’s reluctance to visit Daniel, I commented tartly, ‘Pity he didn’t inherit her big-heartedness.’
‘Oh, Danny didn’t used to be like this. It was what happened to him in Korea that changed him. And losing Great Aunt Marianne and then his fiancée going off with someone else. Before all that, we used to have a lot of fun together.’
She stopped abruptly as Edwin and Daniel came back into the room with the coffee. I don’t think they’d heard her, but to cover up, she said with an exaggerated sniff of the air, ‘Mmm, real coffee!’
‘My grandmother likes it,’ Daniel answered shortly, ‘so I thought I ought to get some. Don’t know what they’ll make of my cooking, though.’
‘Pity Lily’s got a full-time job, or she’d come and cook for you, wouldn’t you, Lily?’ Edwin beamed at me. ‘She’s a super cook is Lily.’
Cook for Daniel? You must be joking! ‘I’m not that good,’ I answered, hoping my voice didn’t show my contempt.
‘Must be better than what I survived on in Korea,’ Daniel murmured under his breath. I wasn’t sure if we were meant to hear, but Edwin cleared his throat and neatly changed the subject.
‘Let’s go for a walk when we’ve had this. Pity to waste such a lovely day.’
‘Do we have to?’ Wendy complained over the rim of her cup.
‘You don’t get enough exercise, Sis. And I know Lily would love to have a walk on the moor. Danny?’
He shrugged. ‘Fine by me. I see the girls haven’t got the best footwear but it’s relatively dry underfoot and we can always rescue you if need be.’ He shot a glance at me and I glared back. He wasn’t going to let me forget the incident when we had met, was he, particularly as he added, ‘We could go out to the Drizzlecombe stone rows. Don’t expect we’ll find any sacrifices, though.’
I struggled to control my fury, but I had to admit that a ramble out to one of the loneliest places on the moor would be wonderful. My curiosity over its ancient cults was rekindled, and even if we did happen on anything untoward, being in Edwin’s company would make it more bearable.
It lifted my heart to feel the vast emptiness of the moor again and to allow its intense harmony to sink into my spirit. It smoothed away the antipathy I felt towards Daniel, even though he and Edwin were striding away in front of Wendy and me as if we didn’t exist, Trojan running circles around us as he tried to herd us together. Every so often, he would scamper too far and Daniel would call him back. I marvelled, quite reluctantly, that Daniel had trained him so well.
Daniel led us past the remains of Eylesbarrow Mine and across the moor to the three stone rows at Drizzlecombe, scattered unevenly and incomprehensibly, and with one of the tallest menhirs or standing stones on Dartmoor. I laughed as Edwin stood with his back against it, arms outstretched, so that we could get the full idea of its size as it towered above him. What had it meant to the men who had put it there at such huge effort so many thousands of years ago? Perhaps Gloria would know.
‘I’ll take you back a different way,’ Daniel announced. ‘Along this stream – it’s the source of the Plym by the way – and then up through Evil Combe. Could be a bit boggy along here, but we’ll help you.’
He seemed casual, more relaxed, the shadow of a smile pulling at his mouth. But was he amusing himself at my expense? I scowled back.
‘I’m sure we can manage it if you can,’ I told him frostily, and he shrugged in that annoying gesture he seemed to have as he turned to lead the way.
‘Look at that rabbit!’ Wendy cried as we at last scrambled away from the stream up through the gullies of Evil Combe. ‘It’s not running away from us at all. Must be very brave.’
We all stopped to look. I’d seen many a rabbit when I lived at Foggintor. Hundreds of them colonised Big Tip, but they disappeared if you went anywhere near.
‘Oh, my God,’ I suddenly heard Daniel mutter, and then he shouted as Trojan went to pounce forward. ‘Trojan, no!’ It wasn’t his usual calm command, and I caught the agitation in his voice. Trojan reluctantly slunk back to his master’s side and Daniel clipped on the lead.
‘Hold him, would you, Lily?’ he asked swiftly, passing it to me. I knew something was wrong and I forgot my feelings of rancour as the boys crept stealthily forward towards the rabbit that was crouching, immobile, in the long grass.
‘It’s myxomatosis, isn’t it, Ed?’
I felt cold, as if there was ice in my veins. I’d heard about this dreadful disease that had somehow entered Britain the previous year. There was speculation that some unscrupulous farmers had been encouraging it in order to keep down numbers of their considered enemy, the rabbit. They no longer had any need to do so. It was spreading like wild fire, and now it had reached Dartmoor.
I came slowly forward. The sight of the poor, trembling creature, its nose running and its eyes gummed up with matter, tore at my heart. I gulped hard, feeling so helpless. ‘Is there anything we can do?’ I whispered.
I don’t know why, but I looked to Daniel for an answer. Perhaps because he knew the moor better than any of us. But he shook his head, his face twitching.
‘No. Nothing. Just keep Trojan away. In fact, you and Wendy go on ahead. Keep going straight up and you’ll come to the track. We’ll catch you up.’
I frowned questioningly, but I was glad to get away. I glanced at Edwin, and he nodded as well. The horrendous discovery had ruined what had been a lovely walk, my dislike of Daniel aside, and sadness weighed down on us like a cloud. Wendy and I obediently walked on, neither of us speaking. We knew what the boys were doing. When they caught us up, they were both very quiet and pale. I noticed there was a splatter of blood on Daniel’s shirt.
I tried not to let the memory of the incident spoil the last few days of Edwin’s holiday, but all too soon, it was time for him to go. I was the only one free to go to the railway station with him, and though my heart was heavy, it felt amazing to be alone with him. Would he kiss me at last, like in the films? When the moment came, I lifted my head, and when his mouth brushed against my cheek, I was disappointed. But Edwin was a gentleman, and I knew he wouldn’t rush things. Instead, he waved vigorously out of the window as the train bore him away.
I waited until he was out of sight, a desolate fist tightening in my chest. God knew when I would see him again. But while he was away, I would better myself. Prove I was worthy of his love. I would go to evening classes, get a couple of those O-levels and learn shorthand and typing. In the meantime, I would thank my lucky stars that I was firmly accepted into the bosom of Edwin’s wonderful family.
Jeannie had just sent a belated card for my birthday with no note. Too occupied with her boyfriend, I supposed. So I wrote to her, telling her all about Edwin. I imagined her teasing reply.
I never received one. London became a veiled, murky fog to me now. My new life was here on Dartmoor. And somehow it felt as if it always had been.