by Tania Crosse
The Princetown Railway had meant little to the rest of the family. Only Edwin shared my sense of bereavement as he had used it frequently to get to Fencott Place, particularly during the war when William had only been allowed sufficient petrol to visit his outlying patients. Sadie was on duty and so Edwin and I were to ride on the train together for the very last time, but at the last minute, he was called to an emergency. So I set out alone.
When I arrived at Yelverton Station, all was chaos. I had never in all the time I had used the moorland train, seen it like this. There were even policemen controlling the queues. Many of the people milling around me were in jovial mood, perhaps never having ridden on the line before and so enjoying a day out. But others stood quietly, their expressions fixed. People to whom, like me, the Princetown train had been a life-saver. Not only had it taken me to work and back each day, but through it I had made the new friends who had rebuilt my existence. The moor would still be there in all its beauty, but the railway had been the link between man and his struggle to survive on this savage wilderness. It was like burying a friend and I felt bereft.
I couldn’t believe my eyes. Six carriages were waiting at the platform, needing two of the sturdy engines to pull them up the steep, twisting incline. I was lucky enough to claim a seat by the window, and I wouldn’t give it up for anything. I was saying goodbye to part of my life. I had said so many goodbyes in the last few years. Even my letter to Jeannie had been returned with not known at this address scrawled on it. So she had moved away and was lost to me for ever.
Morose thought jangled in my head as the engines strained uphill with their heavy burden. We stopped at Burrator Halt high above the dark sheen of the reservoir, but nobody got off to walk around this glorious man-made lake, one of the many jewels in Dartmoor’s granite setting, as I had often done. We wound on, high on the embankment, through the dark woods and crossing the main road, came out onto the magnificent open moor. So many landmarks passed my tear-misted vision, and when we slowed to navigate the sharp bend around King Tor and the ruins of Foggintor came into view, my heart finally broke. Everything I held so dear was falling apart. Gone. Lost. Once again, I was forlorn and alone in a big empty world.
I kept my head turned firmly to the window so that my fellow passengers wouldn’t see the tears rolling down my cheeks. And then shortly before we came into the station, the train bore me past a solitary figure standing erect and respectful as if at a funeral, with a black and white collie sitting obediently at his feet. He was near enough for me to see the set expression on his face.
I was shocked as we came into Princetown Station. Already the buildings wore a derelict look, windows boarded up and most of the equipment removed. I got off, not knowing quite what I would do next. Kate, who would now have to travel to work on the extended bus service that was, ironically, to replace the train, would be at work, and besides, just now, I felt I wanted to deal with my grief alone.
‘Dreadful, isn’t it? The end of an era.’
I was outside the station now. Daniel had evidently walked up briskly, Trojan at his heels. I felt embarrassed rather than annoyed as I was sure it must be obvious I had been crying. But he shook his head sadly.
‘You know, I can’t help thinking that if I’d used the train more often instead of the jeep, I could have saved it.’
I looked up at him, surprised. His voice had trembled slightly. So we shared this sense of deep loss.
‘I don’t think one person would have made that much difference,’ I answered gently.
He lowered his eyes. ‘All the same,’ he muttered, and then looked up at me with a half smile. ‘It’s good to see you again, though. Do you fancy afternoon tea – or coffee,’ he corrected himself, ‘at the café?’
I blinked at him, considering for a moment. A familiar face, even one I was uncertain about, was perhaps just what I needed.
‘Why not?’ I replied.
I had a job to keep up with his long stride. He tied Trojan up outside and we entered the café which had never done such brisk business. We were shown to a small table tucked away in a corner. The atmosphere was hot and steamy, and my cheeks flushed to the realisation that I had actually accepted Daniel’s invitation.
‘You know, the train was our lifeline during the war,’ he said when we had ordered. ‘With no petrol, everyone relied on it. It brought in the provisions we all survived on. I mean, it still does, but then it was the only way. For me as a boy, it was magical. Oh, and the coal! Seeing if I could creep up and steal a lump without being caught.’
Normally I would have been horrified, but Daniel had bowed his head sheepishly in a suppressed smile and I couldn’t help but see the amusing side of it.
‘And did you? Get caught?’
‘Oh, every time,’ he admitted buoyantly. ‘Except once. And then I got caught putting it back. Still got a clip round the ear. But it was all only a game.’ The smile slid from his face. ‘And tomorrow it’ll all be gone.’
‘Coffee for you, madam, and tea for you, sir?’
‘Yes, thank you,’ we answered in chorus, and we both smiled as our eyes met.
‘So how’s the job going? Still liking it?’ Daniel resumed when the young girl moved away.
‘Yes, very much.’ I didn’t know what to say after that. My job meant the hospital, and the hospital meant Edwin and Sadie. I didn’t want to talk about it, so I was pleased when I thought of a way to change the subject. ‘Trojan’s come on well.’
Daniel’s eyes lit up. ‘Yes, he’s a good dog. Never chases after sheep at all, but he will try to herd them if I don’t stop him first.’
‘Talking of sheep,’ I told him as I sipped at the hot liquid, ‘my friends at Yellowmeade Farm had a couple of sheep killed in a ritualistic sort of way a few weeks ago. They were so upset.’
‘Well, you would be. It’s horrible what’s been happening. I saw a chap trying to drag a sheep away a while ago. I don’t know if he was anything to do with it. Maybe he was sheep rustling or perhaps it was all totally innocent, but he ran off pretty quickly when I shouted at him.’
‘Well, that sounds a bit suspicious, doesn’t it? And you didn’t recognise him at all?’ I felt deeply involved, the incident with Barry and his family bringing it even closer, and I’d have loved to see the culprit get caught. But Daniel shook his head.
‘No, unfortunately. He was too far off for me to see him clearly, and there was no point in running after him. I’d never have caught him up at that distance.’
‘Pity.’
We both fell silent for a few minutes as we finished our drinks and then Daniel looked at me questioningly. ‘Are you going back on the train?’
I gave a ponderous sigh. ‘Yes, I am. But I don’t want to wait for the last one. That would just be too sad. I want to watch it steam out of Yelverton just once more and imagine it puffing its way across the moor for ever.’
Daniel gave a wry smile. ‘Yes. I know exactly what you mean. But I’ll walk back to the station with you if you don’t mind. I want to watch it leaving one more time, too. And then Trojan and I had better walk home before it gets too dark to see. I didn’t expect to be so long, so I didn’t bring a torch and it doesn’t look like there’ll be any moon this evening.’
He paid the bill and we walked slowly back through the centre of Princetown. As we approached the station, the next train coasted in and passengers spilt out of the carriages. We had to push our way onto the platform and I was glad of Daniel’s assistance. As we jostled past one of the engines, Mr Gough was standing on the running board, wistfully surveying the scene.
‘Hello, Lily!’ he called when he saw me. ‘Haven’t seen you in a while.’
‘No, but I had to come. A sad day. What are you going to do now?’
‘Been given a job working out of Laira Junction, so we’ve got to find a new house there. Twenty-one years I’ve worked this line. I’ll miss it.’
‘We all will.’
‘That’s a fact.’ Mr Gou
gh bounced his head up and down, and then frowned intently at Daniel. ‘I seem to recognise your young man here.’
My eyes opened wide at the idea of Daniel being my young man, but before I could put Mr Gough right, Daniel said half under his breath, ‘Try bloody little tyke.’
Mr Gough’s face was a picture of surprise. ‘My God! Young Danny! Naughtiest little monkey I ever had the pleasure of coming across!’ he grinned. ‘Haven’t seen you in years. Where’ve you been?’
Daniel shrugged carelessly. ‘Here and there. I’ve been back on the moor for some time, though, but I’m afraid I’ve never used the train. Wish I had now.’
‘Oh, well, life moves on. And I’ve got to get this train moving in a minute. Take care of yourselves, both of you.’
‘And good luck to you, too, Mr Gough!’ I managed to croak. ‘And thanks for everything!’
Daniel ushered me along the platform and saw me into a carriage. I managed to get another seat by the window and sat looking down at Daniel through the glass, wondering at how unruffled Trojan seemed to be by all the noise and the crowds.
The train lurched gently and we began to move down the track. I waved back at Daniel as we chugged out of the station, and soon he was lost in the gathering dusk. My very last ride on the moorland railway that meant so much to me, and I watched the dramatic scenery melt into the gloom. It really was the end of another chapter in my life, and I felt the lump rising in my throat again. Mr Gough, the fireman, the gangers and the station staff, I would never see them again. And my hopes, my belief in the idyllic future I had envisaged for myself with Edwin, were fading into the twilight.
Chapter Seventeen
I kept hoping. Every time Edwin and Sadie went out somewhere together, I looked for signs of a row. I knew it was unkind as both of them would be terribly upset, but I couldn’t help myself. And I would be there to comfort Edwin until he could see how deep my own feelings for him went. But there was no such chink appearing in their relationship. If anything, it seemed to go from strength to strength.
‘Ian and I are going to the coast tomorrow,’ Wendy announced gleefully one Saturday late in May. ‘Do you want to come with us, Lily? We could ask Rob and make a foursome.’
‘Oh, yes, that would be lovely!’ I answered, lending a sparkle to my voice I didn’t feel inside. ‘Thank you!’
In the event, Rob declined the invitation. He was pleasant enough but there was no chemistry between us and I think he felt the same. I seemed to have convinced Wendy, though, that I was over Edwin, but each time I saw him and Sadie together, it was a dagger in my side. So I went with Wendy and Ian, sitting alone in the back of Ian’s car like a wallflower. We crossed the old bridge at Gunnislake and so into Cornwall, and headed for the Rame Peninsula. It was a glorious day for so early in the year and as we lay on the beach, I dozed off and dreamt of Edwin. When I woke up, the sun had gone behind building clouds and we had to make a dash back to the car.
As we drove home through the rain, I felt cold and miserable. In my dream, I had been talking with Edwin and he had been smiling down as he held me in his arms. But it was all in my mind. I had merely been talking to myself. And yet I still clung to the belief that one day he would be mine.
But that day motivated me to go and buy the car I had been thinking about for so long. No longer would I sit in the back feeling like an intruder, however much Wendy, bless her, tried to include me in the conversation. William came with me as the garage owner was a patient, and negotiated a good deal for me on a Ford Popular. So now I could be independent and explore wherever I fancied. With the light evenings, I sometimes drove somewhere after dinner, often with Wendy if she wasn’t seeing Ian, and sometimes with Celia who was back at Tavistock Hospital. She wasn’t as lively and exaggerated as her sister, but she was good, steady company.
As yet, though, I hadn’t been back up on the moor. I somehow couldn’t bear to see it without the railway and the little train puffing its way up the steep incline. When I thought back to that last day of service, I was glad I had met Daniel there for without him I would have felt unbearably sad. Despite our former differences, we had shared the same feelings of bereavement, and that had helped me to withstand it.
I didn’t even mind that he was coming to the birthday party that Deborah and William were, inevitably, throwing for me. I could have done without it, but everyone’s special day was celebrated in style, a good excuse to get all the family together. All I wanted for a present was for Edwin and Sadie to split up, but amicably so that neither of them would be too hurt. I would be so kind to Edwin until, one day, he would realise he had transferred his feelings to me. I wondered if I should have my hair cut short like Sadie’s.
‘What a pity it’s raining so hard, like,’ Kate moaned as she and Pete hurried through the front door and into the lounge which was already crowded with the Franfield family members. ‘It were lovely out in the garden last year.’
‘Yes, it is a shame,’ I agreed. ‘Lucky it’s a big house. And Deborah loves giving parties. And I’m so glad you could come. So what are you doing now, Pete?’
‘Going to study engineering. I got into it during my National Service.’
‘You enjoyed your service, then?’
‘Very much. Helped me make up my mind what I wanted to do with my life.’
‘So he’s going off to college in September and leaving me,’ Kate grimaced.
‘Only to Plymouth, girl! Think it was the end of the earth!’
‘Well, it seems like it!’
I couldn’t help notice, though, that she glanced across at Daniel more than once during the evening. I had to admit he was terribly handsome, even more so than Edwin, tall, lean and his broad shoulders finely muscled. And with his brooding good looks and mop of dark hair that curled over his collar and had a habit of flopping over his forehead, he gave the impression of some sort of bohemian gipsy. To complete the picture, he was the only male not wearing a tie, but still managed to look smart in a crisp, open-necked shirt and grey flannels that clung around his slim hips with the aid of a narrow belt. If only his character wasn’t so unpredictable, he might make someone a good catch.
‘I hope you’ll accept my present this year,’ he said when he caught me in a quiet corner out of earshot of anyone else. ‘It’s a little less stupid this time.’
His eyebrows were raised in a tentatively teasing arch as he handed me a small package, and I couldn’t help myself smiling back at him. We seemed to have reached a somewhat odd understanding and were friends of a strange sort.
‘Oh, thank you, Daniel, it’s beautiful,’ I answered as I unwrapped a silky scarf in a lovely shade of turquoise.
‘I thought it would go nicely with your hair.’
I glanced up at him sharply, not quite sure how to take the comment. His mouth twitched as if he was trying desperately to keep a straight face, and then he finally broke out in a grin. ‘Carrots,’ he murmured under his breath as if he really couldn’t resist it.
I glared at him and my lungs filled with annoyance. I could have thrown the scarf in his face, but he ducked away, laughing sheepishly. I could see it wasn’t meant nastily, and an instant later his expression was full of remorse as he took my arm.
‘Lily, please, I’m sorry, really I am. And I really did choose it to go with your hair. And that’s meant as a compliment, however much I might tease you about it.’
I frowned. But I supposed in his own odd way, Daniel was genuinely being nice to me and I shouldn’t be so sensitive.
I nodded in acceptance of his apology. ‘Yes, it really is very pretty. The scarf, I mean.’ I felt a little awkward and to make it worse, Daniel gave me a quizzical, sideways look that I couldn’t quite fathom. So I was relieved that I managed to think of another topic of conversation. ‘I invited Gloria to the party,’ I informed him, ‘but she declined. I don’t think she’s one for social gatherings. A pity. I haven’t seen her for a while.’
‘Have you not? I’ve seen her onc
e or twice recently. We discussed… Well, there’s been…’ He hesitated and then shook his head. ‘I suppose I shouldn’t be telling you on your birthday, but there’s been several, well, pretty horrible sacrifices up on the moor. All in our sort of area. I found two, both at Down Tor again, but there’s been others as well. You can imagine the farmers are up in arms over it, and the police are taking it seriously now. I went to see them myself. You know I spend a lot of time out on the moor and a couple of times I’ve chased off the same fellow I saw before. At least I’m pretty sure it’s the same chap. Trying to take a sheep. You remember I told you?’
I pursed my lips. No, it wasn’t a pleasant thing to hear at my birthday party, and it was worrying in the extreme. ‘Daniel, you should be careful,’ I said automatically.
He held my gaze for a moment and then shrugged carelessly. ‘Well, so far I’ve not got near enough to give the police much of a description, let alone put myself in any danger. Anyway, he was an older man so I reckon I could hold my own against him. And who knows, he might not have anything to do with it. One man on his own doesn’t seem right for ritual sacrifices. That’s why I went to see Gloria. You know she’s interested in ancient cults so I wondered if she had any ideas. She didn’t, though. But I really don’t want to spoil your party discussing such things.’
‘No, I’m glad you told me—’
‘Come on, Lily!’ Wendy had appeared from nowhere and grabbing my arm, yanked me forward. ‘We’re doing the conga and, as it’s your birthday, you’ve got to lead.’
‘Oh, right,’ I babbled. I glanced helplessly over my shoulder as Wendy pulled me to the head of the line, but Daniel just answered me with a shrug. From then on, I was swept up in the whirlwind of a typical Franfield party, dancing, playing games and generally having a whale of a time. There was beer and lemonade, bottled cider and sherry, and also some French wine that was becoming more available now and that I was developing a taste for. Everyone was in high spirits but sensible with it, though I noticed Kate had probably overdone the alcohol and was behaving a little on the silly side. I doubt if anyone else realised. It didn’t seem to matter a jot that the party was confined to indoors. I just wished…
