‘You’re certainly looking well after your holiday, Lily!’ Mrs Elderman commented the following morning. ‘Did you have a good time looking after your friend?’
‘Yes, I did actually. There wasn’t that much to do and we sat out on the terrace whenever we could and it faces south. And I took the dog out every day so I got plenty of fresh air.’
‘You look as though you’ve caught the sun. Very lucky lad, Mr Pencarrow, to have you to take care of him.’
I sat down at my desk and began to organise my work. Thank goodness Mrs Elderman hadn’t referred to Daniel as my young man. He was far from that. But Mrs Elderman wasn’t the type to pry, though she would be the very person to turn to in a crisis. I liked working with her and felt guilty that I had determined to ring up about that post as secretary at Greenbank. I wouldn’t tell anyone, not even Wendy, unless I landed the job.
‘Danny’s getting along fine,’ Edwin reported over dinner that evening. ‘Complaining about his mother fussing over him, but then he always does. And do you know, his grandmother’s made Fencott Place over to him?’
‘Really?’ three voices chorused around the table.
‘Yes, I was there yesterday when she told him,’ I volunteered. ‘He was pretty shocked actually. It’s a huge responsibility.’
‘I suppose it is,’ William agreed. ‘I wonder what he’ll do with it.’
I told them about the old lady’s suggestion of turning it into a hotel, which led to a long discussion over the merits of increasing tourism in the area. While everyone speculated on the proposition, all I could think of was whether it was something Daniel would really want to do. Or whether he was the right person to do it.
The days at work passed by quickly in their usual busy and interesting way. I was offered an interview at Greenbank and managed to arrange the afternoon off without arousing suspicion. I found myself wanting to ring Daniel, but I had no excuse to do so. I just wanted to hear his voice. It was stupid. I needed him to mean nothing to me, but the fact was that I thought about him all the time. All the more reason for me to get away and start a new life.
But I couldn’t spend that life running away from things, could I? I had wanted to escape from my hurt over Edwin, and now Daniel was unwittingly causing me the same pain. And then there was Sidney and the box in the attic. I knew that one day I would have to open it.
And so I didn’t ring Daniel until the Friday evening. My fingers trembled as I dialled the familiar number and I told myself in vain not to get excited. I felt deflated when his father answered the phone.
‘Hello, Mr Pencarrow, it’s Lily,’ I said, trying to hide my disappointment. ‘I was just wondering how Daniel is. I promised to come up after you all leave to see if he needs anything.’
‘We’ve decided to leave a day early, so we’re going home tomorrow,’ was the reply. ‘Give me time to recover from the long drive before facing the fray on Monday.’
‘Oh, right. Could you tell Daniel then, please, that I’ll be up tomorrow afternoon? I work Saturday mornings, you see.’
‘I will indeed. I’m sure he’ll be pleased. Between you and me, I think he vastly prefers your company to ours. Thank you for all you’ve done for him.’
‘It’s been a pleasure. My regards to both Mrs Pencarrows. And I hope you have a good journey.’
‘Thank you, Lily. I expect we’ll meet you again soon.’
I heard the receiver click. Tomorrow. My heart gave a little jump and I fought to contain it. But it was beating a nervous tattoo as I let myself in the back door of Fencott Place the following afternoon.
‘Daniel!’ I called, and Trojan came flying up to me in a flurry of welcome.
‘In the kitchen!’ Daniel’s voice answered.
I hurried forward. He was standing on his good leg, crutches propped against the cupboard next to him, as he poured hot water into the coffee filter jug. He smiled at me over his shoulder and I noticed how long his hair had grown, hiding the collar of his shirt. It was lovely, though, dark and glossy and with a slight wave to it.
‘I heard the car,’ he said by way of explanation, ‘so I thought I’d surprise you. It’s a bit tricky carrying a mug, though, so you’ll have to do that bit. It’s just good to be allowed to do something for myself, no matter how small,’ he concluded grimly.
I had to smile. ‘Oh, dear. Doesn’t sound as if last week was very successful.’
‘My mother can drive me mad. She still treats me like a little boy, telling me what to do all the time. She just can’t accept that I’m a grown man with far more experience of life than she’ll ever know.’
‘She’ll have to read your book, then.’
‘I hope she doesn’t. I think it’d upset her terribly. They don’t know about it, and I’ll publish it under a different name if it ever comes to it.’
‘You don’t mind me reading it,’ I observed.
I saw his face twitch. ‘But…you’re different, Lily. You…seem to understand.’
Yes, I supposed I did. Was that meant to be a compliment or a fact? I felt hot under the collar and swiftly changed the subject.
‘Have you thought any more about your grandmother’s proposal?’
‘The hotel idea, you mean? No, not really. I’m still trying to get used to the fact that I own this place now. Maybe I’ll be able to think straight when I get this bloody thing off my leg next week. I’ve really had enough of it.’
‘I expect you have,’ I sympathised. ‘The police haven’t been back to you this week, have they, about the accident?’
He shook his head. ‘The investigation’s probably closed now. I’d love to get my hands on the devil, mind!’
Yes, so would I. But by the same token, Daniel’s accident had brought us closer together. Although what was the point if it wasn’t close enough? I was determined, though, that those last few evenings in Daniel’s company would be pleasant ones even though I would deliberately keep my distance.
While I was out at work the following week, Daniel went on with the book, scrawling over untidy sheets of paper. I typed a few pages each evening, but I was way behind him, not that there was any hurry. I had roughly reached the same point he had described to me that morning out on the terrace, the point when he had been taken prisoner.
The first few days had apparently been the most terrifying, expecting to be executed at any moment. Name, rank and number. Second Lieutenant scarcely made you an officer, but the Chinese considered it must make you privy to secret information. And so Daniel had been interrogated, beaten, kicked on the shrapnel wound on his leg. In his own words, everything had been total bloody chaos and he had no knowledge whatsoever of any damned battle plans. It had been every man for himself in the end. His captors had finally been convinced when the lighted cigarette extracted no information from him.
I caught my breath, staring at the typewriter while a sickening wave of horror plunged down to my stomach. Dear God, yes. I remembered those curious marks among the dark hairs on Daniel’s chest. Cigarette burns. The shock, the brutality of it, shook me rigid and I sat for five minutes unable to move. No wonder…no wonder Daniel didn’t smoke and hated the fact that his father did. Neither William nor Edwin partook of the habit, believing that although tobacco might calm the nerves, it couldn’t be good for the lungs despite these new filter-tips. But with Daniel it ran far deeper than that.
I was appalled, almost disbelieving that such evil could be real. But here was the proof. What inhuman, demonic barbarity could take place in the name of war. Such cold-blooded cruelty, even worse than the horrors of the battlefield if that were possible. And Daniel had hitherto kept all this to himself.
I struggled to pull myself together, but when I glanced down at the page again, the writing was blurred and I realised I was crying. Soft, silent tears. My own past, losing Ellen and Sidney and not knowing my true identity, paled into insignificance beside the darkness that had shadowed Daniel’s soul. I felt ashamed, but it was a moment of revelation and it somehow gave me strength. But during my interview at Greenbank, the image of Daniel being tortured flashed across my thoughts, haunting me, and I had to ask them to repeat the question.
Daniel had truly expected to be shot when he had proved useless to the Chinese, but the band of prisoners had then been added to a stream of other captives who were being force-marched northward. The stretchered wounded were taken away, never to be seen again.
Those that could walk did so for weeks. The sudden arrival of spring after the bitter winter meant squelching mud caused by the melting of the deep snow and the coming of the rains. Paddy fields fertilised with human excrement stank revoltingly, and fearing his leg-wound would lead to a life-threatening infection, Daniel prayed that the anti-tetanus injections everyone had received back in Britain would at least save him from that painful end. Miraculously, though, the wound slowly healed as they trudged on through the sludge with almost nothing to eat and only hot water to drink. Many fell ill with dysentery and pneumonia – and didn’t make it.
They eventually arrived at what was known as Camp One some two and a half months later, in June 1951. Hundreds of Americans had already died there during the winter, mainly from dysentery, beriberi or plain starvation. Now there was the heat, the flies, the lack of sanitation, to contend with, together with the fight against lice, bedbugs, malaria, other fevers, jaundice and the ubiquitous dysentery. A bowl of sorghum twice a day with an ounce or two of beans or turnips, and once a week the meat of one pig shared between six hundred men, was what they were expected to live on. No wonder Daniel considered himself lucky to have survived – and bore such deep emotional scars.
‘Come on, Lily, you’ve done enough,’ he said to me on the Thursday evening. ‘It’s getting late and we’ll have to be up early if you’re going to drop me off at William and Deborah’s before you go to work. And Trojan will need a walk if he’s going to be shut up here all day.’
His eyebrows were knitted with concern and I smiled up at him, stifling a yawn. ‘You’re right. Would you like some cocoa or something before we go to bed?’
It struck me that we were like an old married couple, incongruous when we were sharing such distressing experiences through the medium of the written word. But the next morning, Daniel resembled a young boy in his excitement at the prospect of being rid of the plaster-cast. I had to chuckle at the youthful glint in his eyes as we drove down into Tavistock.
I hurried back to the house at lunchtime, arriving at the gate the same time as Wendy was approaching from the other direction.
‘Oh, it’s great to have you back again!’ she grinned as she danced me up the path. ‘I’ve missed you so much! Do you want to come to the pictures with Ian and me tonight? And there’s a dance at the Town Hall tomorrow.’
‘I’m sure Ian won’t want me tagging along.’
‘Oh, he doesn’t mind. And dances are the best places to meet people. We’ve got to get you a boyfriend somehow!’
‘I’ll come to the dance, then, if you really don’t mind. But I promised I’d drive Daniel home this evening.’
Wendy pulled a face. ‘He’s jolly lucky to have had you to look after him. I would never have done. I hope he appreciates it.’
‘Yes, he does. He’s said so many a time. We get on pretty well, actually.’
‘There’s no accounting for taste!’ Wendy teased as we went inside.
Everyone was eating sandwiches from a piled plate on the table in the lounge as the stairs down to the kitchen were very steep and could be dangerous for Daniel on his crutches. He beamed up at me as I sat down beside him. I thought I’d never seen him look so happy and boyish.
‘I can’t wait to get this thing off this afternoon and have a good old scratch!’ he announced gleefully.
‘Well, you just be careful,’ Edwin warned. ‘And no overdoing it too quickly.’
‘Yes, doc,’ Daniel answered with mock deference, and then burst out laughing. ‘I don’t think I’ll be training for the Olympics quite yet!’
‘The clinic starts at two o’clock and your appointment’s not until three,’ I reminded him. ‘So if we’re going to give you a lift to the hospital, you’ll have to hang around.’
‘I’ll just have to sit and watch you, then, won’t I?’ he murmured, throwing me a sideways glance that unnerved me.
In the event, Edwin lent him a book to read while he was waiting. ‘As long as it’s not War and Peace,’ he said under his breath, the significance of which I was to discover later.
It was a joy, though, to witness the euphoria on his face when he and Edwin walked back down the corridor towards me after his appointment. His gait was a little slow and tentative and he was using the stick he’d been supplied with, but his eyes were gleaming.
‘So how’s the patient, Dr Franfield?’ I asked eagerly.
‘Fully mended,’ Edwin declared. ‘The muscles are a bit wasted as you’d expect, but do those exercises and you’ll soon be as right as rain. And the ribs and everything else are fine, too.’ He clapped Daniel on the shoulder. ‘Take care, old chap. Now, I must see my next patient.’
Daniel sat down and waited until I could speak to him again. We had thought to bring his other shoe and a pair of trousers without the leg seam unpicked and I showed him where he could change.
‘How does it feel?’ I enquired when he reappeared.
‘Wonderful!’ he sighed blissfully. ‘A bit weird, but wonderful! Ed said if I go carefully and use the stick, I can walk back into town. I could do with calling in at the barber’s, and Deborah will be there to let me back in to the house.’
‘Are you sure?’ I frowned. ‘The hill’s very steep.’
‘I promise to be careful. And if I feel tired, I’ll perch on someone’s wall for a rest. So I’ll see you later.’ He paused, his eyes rakish. ‘Carrots.’
I closed my lips as I tried not to laugh. Oh, yes! The old Daniel was back!
‘What are you going to do now without the jeep?’ I asked as I turned into the gravel drive at Fencott Place that evening and turned off the engine. ‘You really need a car out here.’
‘I’m sure I’ll think of something. The insurance has paid up, not that the jeep was worth much. I suppose I could take the Bentley out of mothballs,’ Daniel shrugged carelessly. ‘Damned thing guzzles petrol, mind, and while this Suez business is going on—’
‘Bentley?’
‘Mmm. Apart from her half of the house which reverted to Gran – and which is mine now anyway – my great aunt left everything to me. Not that she had very much. The jeep, the Bentley and the necklace were about the sum total.’
‘But…a Bentley—’
‘Oh, it’s very old. Been up on chocks in the barn since the beginning of the war, more or less. But I could give the garage a ring and see if they could get it going again. After all, if I’m going to be a hotelier, I might need a decent car to pick people up in.’
I gave a half wry, half bemused grunt. ‘You’re a dark horse sometimes, Daniel! And will you, then? Become a hotelier?’
He puffed out his cheeks. ‘I’ve absolutely no idea. I don’t even know if I’d be allowed with the house being leasehold. And I don’t know if I’d want to. Anyway, all I can think of just now is lighting the boiler in the boot room and when the water’s hot enough, enjoying a long, long soak. Six weeks without a bath is long enough for anyone. I don’t know how you’ve put up with me!’
He threw up his head with a full-throated laugh and I couldn’t help giggling in return, pinching my nostrils between my forefinger and thumb.
‘Didn’t you notice me wearing a peg on my nose all the time?’
‘Get away with you!’ he grinned back, a carefree light in his eyes I had seldom seen before, making him more handsome than ever. My heart lurched, and I was glad to be able to say, ‘I think you’ll have to take Trojan for a walk first. I can hear him barking his head off.’
‘Yes, so can I. Will you come with us?’
‘I’d love to. But I must get back after that. With the evenings drawing in, I don’t want to be driving across the moor in the dark.’
Daniel’s face became serious again. ‘No. I wouldn’t want the same thing happening to you as did to me. And that was in the middle of the afternoon. So go carefully, won’t you, Lily?’
His expression took on its usual intensity, and for a moment, I hoped… But he said nothing more and then got out of the car. I followed, deliberately tamping down my emotions. Just good friends. Perhaps it was best that way.