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A Caring Heart

Page 7

by Margaret Carr


  ‘Mam he’s never going to be fine, we should get you some more help.’

  On the point of taking her leave Isobel said, ‘There’s two Land Army girls just arrived at The Apple. I rather think they have been sent here.’

  ‘Oh good,’ Joyce sat down and began to rummage in the table drawer, then pulled out a letter. ‘Yes, it came a few days ago to tell us we had been allocated help. I told them we couldn’t put them up here with only two bedrooms. So will they be staying at The Apple, do you know?’

  ‘I should think so, one of them is Sylvia Brown’s cousin.’

  ‘That’s a great relief. The neighbours are ever so good, but I have felt guilty depending upon them so heavily. Oh Duncan will be pleased. Thank you for coming so swiftly, Nurse,’ Joyce said, as Isobel turned once more to the door.

  ‘I’ll give you a lift,’ Jack said.

  Joyce reached up on her toes and kissed his cheek. ‘Thanks for coming, love,’ she said.

  The driver climbed out of the car and stored Isobel’s bicycle in the boot, while Jack held the rear door open for her before following her inside. In his seat once more the driver switched on the engine and drove out of the farmyard through the gate Joyce held open for them and down the lane.

  ‘Village High Street,’ Jack told the driver and they sat in silence as the car bumped its way down the hill. On the short drive into the village Isobel mulled over what she might say to start a conversation. They had stopped in front of the cottage before, in a desperate rush, she asked, ‘Would you like to come in for a coffee?’

  With a slow smile he nodded towards the driver and said, ‘I think we had both better resume what we were doing when we were called away.’

  ‘Yes, of course how stupid of me.’ Embarrassed she lowered her head and turned toward the gate.

  ‘If you are free tomorrow evening perhaps I could buy you a drink.’

  She stared back over her shoulder as without waiting for a reply he tapped the driver with his stick and the car moved off along the road back to the camp.

  MYSTERY SURROUNDS BOBBY DUNN’S WHEREABOUTS

  The following evening Isobel was sorting through her wardrobe trying to decide what she should wear for her date with Jack. It was cold in the bedroom, the little fire rarely lit, and she had changed clothes so often she was covered in goose bumps. At last she conceded that the tartan skirt and green jumper would have to do, after all it would probably be The Apple.

  He hadn’t said when he would pick her up, or where, and she worried about this as she brushed her hair and applied a little more make up than normal.

  Downstairs she fussed about checking that there was a handkerchief in her pocket; that her shoes were clean, though she had given them a good polishing earlier. That the best tea cups were ready in case he should come back for coffee later, that there was water in the kettle, and so it went on until there was absolutely nothing else to do and she sat down in front of the fire to wait. Eight o’clock, nine o’clock, ten o’clock, then she turned out the lights and went to bed.

  * * *

  On Saturday evening Sylvia had the night off and she persuaded Isobel to go with her to the village dance. ‘You’ve been looking down all week. What happened, one of your patients died?’

  Smiling, Isobel shook her head.

  ‘Well something’s up, you’re not usually down for long. Come and help me keep an eye on these two young things,’ she said, pointing across the room to where Brenda and her friend were entertaining a group of young soldiers. The band was playing a military two step and both girls were whisked onto the floor. Sylvia said something in her ear and disappeared off towards a long trestle table covered in someone’s bed sheet and liberally spread with a variety of soft drinks, beer and a large bowl of what was generously called punch, leaving Isobel in direct line of Jack’s unflinching gaze.

  As he stepped forward clearly indicating his intention of speaking to her Isobel ducked behind a chattering group of villagers, right into the path of Mrs Crombie who promptly whisked her off to help with the organising of the spot prize.

  It wasn’t until much later that she discovered that Jack had disappeared and so, to Sylvia’s consternation, had Brenda.

  ‘Margery, the other girl said she had gone outside for a smoke. Well I’ve been out there and I can’t see her.’

  ‘Don’t worry, she’ll not be far.’

  ‘It’s not how far away she is, it’s what she’s up to that bothers me,’ an anxious Sylvia replied. ‘You know what some of these lads are like. Did you see her go off with anyone?’

  Isobel looked around the Presbyterian Church Hall. Two thirds of the company were soldiers, the rest mostly local women and girls apart from a group of village lads keeping very much to themselves to one side of the band. ‘I’m afraid not.’

  ‘Well keep an eye out for her will you and tell her I’m looking for her if you see her.’

  ‘I’ll come and help you find her.’ But just at that moment an ex-patient came up and asked her to dance, and Sylvia hurried off. Isobel danced constantly during the second half of the dance, handed from one partner to the next in a whirl of fun and laughter.

  Sylvia chased Brenda off and on all night, and as she and Isobel walked home together she complained bitterly that if the girl didn’t calm down she, Sylvia, was going to be run off her feet.

  Isobel laughed. ‘After a hard day’s work and cycling back and forth to Pine Tree Farm every day she isn’t going to have much energy left for gallivanting, you wait and see.’

  Sylvia cut off to The Apple and Isobel continued along the street to the cottage. As she drew near to the gate she could see someone standing there waiting for her. Drawing in a sharp breath she at first thought it to be the soldier who had attacked her once before. But as she neared she recognised Jack.

  She came to a halt in front of him.

  ‘I wanted a word with you, but you seemed to be having a good time in there so I decided to wait.’

  Her body stiffened and her voice died in her throat as she waited for him to say more.

  ‘May I come in?’

  She hesitated, before shrugging her shoulders and pushing open the gate.

  He followed her into the cottage kitchen and stood by as she automatically filled the kettle and switched it on. ‘I’m sorry about last week, I was due to be off-duty but an emergency came up and I couldn’t get away.’

  Isobel set out two mugs on the bench. ‘No problem. It happens to me all the time.’

  Frowning he said, ‘Yes, it must be the same for you also, though in your shoes I doubt I would be so gracious.’

  She made the cocoa and handed him the other mug. ‘Gracious wasn’t how I would have described my feelings last Thursday evening.’ She moved on into the living room and sat down by the dying fire.

  He took the chair opposite without waiting to be invited. ‘Then will you let me make amends with an invitation to dinner in Rennington next Saturday.’

  She looked at him over the brim of her mug and with her heart doing a slow drum roll, said, ‘Thank you, yes, I’d like that.’

  He stayed for half-an-hour and they talked about small inconsequential things. After he left, Isobel sat on in the chair by the fire and dreamt impossible dreams.

  * * *

  It was the following Thursday when Bobby disappeared. ‘We dressed the loft in the barn as a bedroom for him because he wouldn’t come into the house to sleep. I offered him Jack’s old room, but he preferred to be in the barn. I thought he was happy there. He seemed really fond of Duncan, did all sorts of things for him. I don’t understand why he would just up and go like that,’ Joyce told Isobel when she arrived at the farm on Friday morning to attend to Duncan.

  ‘Did he take anything with him?’ Isobel asked the worried woman.

  ‘No, that’s what I don’t understand. The cat’s still here too.’

  ‘Well that’s not right, Bobby would never leave Churchill or his belongings. Do you remember the fu
ss he made when he first came here until he was allowed to go and collect his “things”?’

  ‘So what do you think has happened to him, Nurse?’

  ‘I don’t know, Mrs Lewis, but I intend to find out.’

  ‘Duncan is missing him,’ she said, as she led the way into the kitchen. Duncan was waiting for her in his usual chair, looking worried.

  ‘Have the Land Army girls arrived, Duncan?’ she asked, watching his expression brighten.

  ‘Aye, with orders to turn the bottom meadow for . . . what was it again?’ he asked his wife.

  ‘Potatoes.’

  ‘Oh aye, potatoes.’

  ‘They’ll be a grand help, Nurse,’ Mrs Lewis said.

  ‘Good. It’s about time you had some help.’

  ‘An’ that’s not all either. We’ve got a man coming to dig ditches and mend fences. Jack’s sending him from the camp. A Pole by the name of Paul. They’ll bring him up each morning and collect him at tea-time.’

  ‘Splendid.’ Isobel re-dressed Duncan’s ulcer and went through his exercises with him before reassuring his wife that she would definitely be making enquires about Bobby.

  In the village she headed straight for the Mackenzies’ shop. If there was anything suspicious about Bobby’s disappearance then it would somehow or other have something to do with Macky Mackenzie. When she asked for him in the shop his wife just shrugged her shoulders. One of her customers piped up as she peered through the tins of broken biscuits spread out along the front of the counter, ‘I passed him when I came in, heading for The Apple, he was with that Billy Patterson.’

  Isobel thanked the woman and headed out the door and up towards the public house.

  Sylvia was behind the bar when Isobel entered. The few men already in the bar raised frowning faces at the intrusion of a woman into their domain but when they saw it was the nurse, they retreated back to their own business. Isobel’s quick glance told her that Macky wasn’t present.

  ‘Have you seen Macky this morning?’ she asked Sylvia on her approach to the bar.

  ‘Macky? No why?’

  ‘Bobby Dunn’s gone missing from Pine Tree Farm and I’ll bet my next salary on it being something to do with Macky. When I get my hands on him . . .’

  At that moment the door of the bar opened and in walked Macky and two of his pals. Isobel was at him in a flash, her grandmother’s Irish temper flaring.

  ‘What have you done with Bobby Dunn, Macky Mackenzie? And don’t give me that surprised innocent look. I warned you what would happen if anything went wrong up at the farm. I know you are behind it and if you don’t come along to the Police House right now and tell Constable Burns what you’ve been up to, I’ll get these men to help me drag you there,’ she cried pushing him backward with jabs of her fist.

  ‘Hold on,’ cried Sylvia, rushing from behind the bar to place herself between her friend and Macky Mackenzie. ‘What’s he done, what’s happened to Bobby Dunn?’

  ‘He’s gone, that’s what,’ a furious Isobel snapped. ‘When he was really settled and useful to people who appreciated him. This, this . . . busybody has to go poking his nose into other people’s lives because he’s such a no gooder,’ and here her words failed her.

  ‘Here! You can’t talk about me like that!’ Macky complained. ‘It was none of my doing if that tramp has taken his self off.’

  ‘Of course it was you, why else would he have gone?’

  By now the other men in the bar were taking an interest in the proceedings. ‘Why don’t you tell the nurse what she wants to know,’ someone called from the other end of the bar. While Macky’s two friends backed up to the door blocking the way of someone else wanting in.

  ‘Aye, you tell the nurse what she wants to know,’ a shouted voice backed up the first one.

  ‘I’m telling you, I don’t know where he is,’ Macky snarled.

  When Jack and a group of soldiers pushed their way into the bar the gang of grumbling locals dispersed back to their seats. Jack looked across at the still seething Isobel and raised his eyebrows. A smiling Sylvia draped an arm around the shoulders of her friend and led her away behind the bar and into the back living area.

  Norman was there leaning over his books and he looked up clicking his tongue when he saw who it was disturbing him. ‘Can’t you use the snug for your women’s chat? I want to get this down before Brenda gets back tonight,’ he looked up grinning. ‘Clever little thing, that cousin of yours.’

  His grin always made Isobel feel dirty and she turned away with, ‘I must be getting back to work. Keep an eye and ear open for me;’ she asked her friend, ‘anything at all you hear about Bobby, let me know, OK?’

  ‘OK.’ Sylvia replied while scowling at her husband.

  * * *

  ‘I hear Bobby Dunn has gone missing. Tramps never stay long in the same place.’

  Isobel looked up from setting out an ear-syringing tray. I ought to know better, she thought. News in this place needs no voice, it echoes up and down the streets. ‘He didn’t move on, Doctor, something has happened to him.’

  The doctor made a gruff noise and prepared for his next patient who had been hit on the side of his head during a football game and was now complaining of deafness. Young Timmy kicked up a tremendous fuss so Isobel had to call in his mother to quieten him. When it was over and the doctor was writing out a note for drops, Isobel asked the waiting pair if they had seen anything of Bobby Dunn recently.

  The doctor gave Isobel a calculating glance as he handed over the prescription, but she ignored him and listened when Timmy said, ‘Aye Nurse. I saw him up the hill with a couple of soldiers.’

  ‘Soldiers?’

  ‘Aye.’

  Isobel continued to digest this information while attending to her surgery duties, but once free and on her bike, she let her mind wander over the possibilities of what on earth Bobby was up to. He had no money to speak of and no friends that she knew of. He’d been gone overnight, had they arrested him and taken him off somewhere. If so, for what and to where?

  That evening she was back in The Apple.

  ‘I’ve seen more of you lately since that lad of the Lewises came back, but he’s not in tonight.’ Sylvia gave her a cheeky wink.

  ‘He was seen being taken away by a couple of soldiers.’

  ‘Who, Jack Lewis?’

  ‘No, Bobby Dunn.’

  ‘Oh him, why what does it matter?’

  Isobel slumped down at the table in the far corner of the snug. ‘I don’t know. I suppose I feel responsible for him.’

  ‘Rubbish,’ Sylvia snapped, fussing with a piece of binding that had come away from the neck edge of her dress.

  ‘You don’t suppose Jack could have anything to do with it, do you?’

  Sylvia’s attention came back to her friend. ‘Why would Jack have anything to do with Bobby Dunn?’

  ‘I don’t know, except well, he did seem rather put out when he found Bobby living at the farm and being such a help to Duncan. Perhaps now he has found more help for his parents he doesn’t want Bobby there any more.’

  ‘Don’t be silly. I’m sure he has far more important things to worry about than Bobby Dunn. The girls are helping out up at Pine Tree now,’ Sylvia laughed. ‘And by the look of it there is enough work going around to keep everyone busy. The girls are whacked; they hardly ate any dinner and collapsed onto their beds not long after. I don’t think they are going to be as much trouble as I had anticipated.’

  Isobel smiled knowingly. She was very fond of Sylvia, but she wouldn’t find any answers here. No, she decided she would ask Jack straight out when she saw him tomorrow night.

  * * *

  Saturday night started out badly when Jack was late. Isobel had been ready for twenty minutes and walking up and down the living room working herself into a furious temper when she thought she was to be stood up yet again.

  ‘Sorry I’m late. I phoned ahead and they have kindly agreed to hold our table. I’m glad you’re ready.’
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  His effrontery took the words clean out of her hotly practised welcome.

  Gritting her teeth she flounced past him in the doorway and down the path to the gate. The car with the same driver stood idling by the pavement. They climbed in and the car moved off.

  ‘Where are we going?’ her curiosity aroused now they were actually on the move.

  ‘I thought we would go to a place in Rennington I’m rather fond of. Chap I met in the hospital introduced me to it. His brother owns it and Mary, his wife, does all the cooking. I think you will like them.’

  The restaurant did not fail to delight her. Tucked away in the corner of the busy market town, the owners had managed to provide them with steak and garnish the like of which was unprecedented in wartime Britain.

  The cosy but uncrowded atmosphere with its mural covered walls and soft Mediterranean decor of green shrubs and gingham tablecloths, bare wood floors and plain wood furniture allowed Isobel to relax.

  Eric and Mary Keenlyside came out of their kitchen to meet them and Jack made the introductions. Eric was as thin as his wife was plump and as bald as his wife’s long black tresses were thick, but both wore an engaging smile that encompassed their visitors in a warm and friendly welcome.

  Isobel allowed Jack to order for her. As they munched their way through warm bread and a soft cheese and spinach dip while waiting for their meal they made small talk until Jack mentioned Bobby.

  Immediately he had Isobel’s full attention. ‘What, what was that about Bobby Dunn?’

  ‘I just mentioned what a fund of knowledge he has about the woods and moorland in and around the area.’

  ‘Yes, well he would, having lived a large part of his life around these parts.’

  He sat back looking relaxed as he wiped crumbs from his mouth with his serviette. ‘I don’t mean like you and I know the place. I mean his great knowledge of the local flora and fauna, the lie of the land and where things can be found and hidden. Does he talk to people about the wildlife and nature to be found around here? He is really interesting to listen to.’

  Isobel thought for a moment then said, ‘He doesn’t like people in general so no, he doesn’t talk about what he knows. I remember being amazed at how skilful he was when he lived in the woods just after he left the hospital. At first I was afraid he would starve, but then I saw him provide himself with rabbits and fish which he cooked in a basic but professional way. Yes, I suppose he does know more than people give him credit for.’

 

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