Lily's Journey

by Tania Crosse

  Trojan instantly made himself at home in the unfamiliar house, although we had to keep the door to William’s consulting room firmly closed, of course. Edwin was still at Daniel’s bedside, but William was happy enough with his condition.

  ‘He’s still pretty groggy after the anaesthetic, but that’s no bad thing,’ William updated us as we tried to relax over mugs of hot cocoa. ‘Those ribs will be agony for some weeks. We’ll keep him on morphine for a few days and then gradually reduce the painkillers, but the poor lad’s going to be uncomfortable for some time. The police came back and wanted to interview him, but I told them they’d have to wait a few days.’

  ‘Yes, I passed the spot,’ I said at once. ‘I saw the tyre-marks. There was definitely another vehicle involved.’

  ‘That’s what the police said. They’ve measured and recorded everything. Looks as if Daniel was forced off the road.’

  ‘He mumbled something about a lorry.’

  ‘Did he?’ William looked up sharply.

  ‘Yes, but he was a bit incoherent.’

  ‘Nevertheless, I think I’ll give the inspector a ring. It could be useful.’

  ‘Inspector?’

  ‘They’re taking this very seriously,’ William informed us as he got to his feet. ‘Causing a near fatal accident and then driving off will certainly end in prosecution.’

  ‘If they can find the culprit,’ I muttered bitterly.

  ‘Try not to get too angry, dear,’ Deborah advised when we were alone. ‘It won’t help. The important thing is that we’re all here to support Daniel through this.’

  ‘His parents are coming down tomorrow, aren’t they?’

  ‘That’s right. Sheila and Adam. And his grandmother, too. At least I was able to assure them that Daniel will make a full recovery. They’re going to stay up at Fencott, of course. It belongs entirely to his grandmother since Great Aunt Marianne died. What an eccentric she was!’

  ‘Daniel was very fond of her, wasn’t he?’ I asked, my curiosity, for some reason I couldn’t explain, deeply aroused.

  ‘Thick as thieves, I’d say. I think it rather upset Sheila.’ Deborah sat forward confidentially. ‘Adam was always out at business meetings when Daniel was small. Continuing his father’s work of trying to restore some of the family’s fortunes.’

  ‘Yes, I remember Edwin explaining about it all.’

  Deborah nodded. ‘Well, Daniel was always a handful. He needed a man’s influence but Adam was never there, and even when he was, he wasn’t much of a disciplinarian. And when Daniel was evacuated down here, Marianne was no help at all. If anything she encouraged him to run wild.’

  ‘Edwin said he was nearly always with him.’

  ‘That’s right. It used to worry me that he’d lead Edwin astray, but I think Edwin was always keeping him out of trouble. I mean, Daniel was never bad. He was just mischievous. Marianne had her husband to care for, which I suppose didn’t help. He was still alive at the beginning of the war. He was an invalid, you see. She’d driven an ambulance in France in the First World War.’

  ‘Really? Oh, gosh, how brave! Daniel said she was a character.’

  ‘She was that! She rescued this young soldier, you see. He lost both his legs, but it didn’t stop them falling in love and having a wonderful marriage. No children, mind. So I suppose Daniel was a sort of substitute.’

  ‘Oh, I didn’t know all that,’ I answered, genuinely intrigued. I was about to ask more about this charismatic great aunt as it seemed a way of distracting me from the current situation, but just then William came back into the room.

  ‘Well, they were pleased to have that piece of information,’ he announced gravely. ‘The jeep’s a write-off and they can see the dents from the collision on the off-side. But unfortunately there was no paint to give them a clue as to colour. And the tyre-marks weren’t clear enough for them to be able to identify the other vehicle, just that it had a wider axle. Could have been any number of possibilities, so they were glad to know it was a lorry. Not that what Daniel said can be entirely relied upon, what with the concussion and everything.’ William paused, rubbing his hand over his eyes and yawning. ‘Well, I’m shattered and I really think we should all get to bed. I hope Ed won’t stay with him too late.’

  I stood up, stretching, and realising how tired I suddenly felt. Trojan swivelled his eyes at me without lifting his nose from his front paws and his tail eagerly thumped the carpet.

  ‘I suppose you should go outside for a few minutes,’ I smiled down at him. ‘Come on then.’

  He scampered over to me, his young body twisting with excitement. I collected the dirty mugs and took them down to the kitchen and then Trojan and I went outside and up the few steps to the garden. He bounced about in the darkness, stopping here and there to sniff at unfamiliar scents. I watched his black and white shadow, remembering the night scarcely four weeks ago when I had stood out here, crying in Daniel’s arms because Edwin was to marry Sadie. And now I was crying because Daniel was lying in a hospital bed and I was confused and angry.

  I didn’t sleep very well. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the old jeep careering off the road and turning over, and Daniel being flung out and hurled over the boulders, breaking his leg, banging his skull and finally, we supposed, landing on his right side, cracking his ribs and scraping the skin off his shoulder in the process. I kept coming out in a hot sweat. Daniel might have upset me on several occasions, but now I knew him better, I realised it had never been intentional, and he didn’t deserve this. Some lunatic who didn’t respect the livestock on the open road had obviously overtaken him dangerously and pushed him over the bank. My heart was beating relentlessly hard and it was well into the early hours before I fell into a fitful doze.

  Nevertheless, I was awake early and had time to take Trojan for a walk in the park opposite the house before I went to work. As soon as I arrived at the hospital, I went to the men’s surgical ward to see Daniel. Even as clerical staff, we were supposed to ask the sister’s permission to go on a ward, but that morning I really couldn’t care about rules and regulations.

  I stood at the foot of Daniel’s bed. He was asleep, or had perhaps drifted into unconsciousness. Beneath his strong overnight stubble, his face was grey, long dark lashes fanned out on sunken sockets. A cage held the blankets off his legs and there seemed to be tubes everywhere. My heart burst in a squall of rage against the heartless coward who had done this.

  ‘Have you got permission to be here, Miss Hayes?’ Matron’s stern voice cut through my silent contemplation.

  ‘Sorry, Matron, no, I haven’t.’ But to be honest, I wasn’t sorry at all.

  ‘I’ll forgive you this time, but out of visiting hours, please ask in future.’ Then her voice softened. ‘I take it you and Mr Pencarrow are—’

  I felt myself flush. ‘Oh, good Lord, no. He’s just a friend. Through Dr Franfield.’

  ‘But a friend you care deeply about.’ She picked up the charts clipped to the bottom of the bed and her eyes quickly scanned the papers. ‘Well, his Obs are improving and he’s had a reasonable night, but then he is under sedation. We’ll see how he is later on. I suggest you get back to your work now and come and see him during the proper hours. What he needs now is rest.’

  ‘Yes, Matron.’ I bowed my head in deference, but then met her gaze boldly as some force I didn’t understand swept through me. ‘You will look after him, won’t you?’

  She straightened her shoulders. ‘I look after all my patients, Miss Hayes.’ But then I thought I detected a slight curve of her lips.

  ‘Oh, my poor boy, just lying there like that. And after all he’s been through already,’ Sheila Pencarrow moaned.

  That evening, we were all sitting in the lounge after the meal Deborah and I had prepared for everyone. I had been at Daniel’s bedside, just watching the bubbles in the jar, when his family had arrived in the middle of the afternoon. He was certainly a sorry sight, hardly moving and had a great, mottled blue lump on his fo
rehead now. If he did mumble an odd word, it didn’t make much sense.

  ‘We’ll bring him out of the sedation tomorrow,’ William explained in that wonderfully comforting way of his, ‘but don’t expect him to be totally lucid for some time, not with that degree of concussion. And his ribs will be agony, so we’ll keep him on morphine for a few days which will make him pretty groggy. But hopefully after that, we can get him on oral painkillers and he’ll begin to be more himself.’

  Sheila’s face was nevertheless pulled into a desperate grimace and her husband leant across to pat her hand. He was a man of few words, but I could see his eyes – Daniel’s eyes – taking everything in. There was a depth behind the quiet façade, and I could see where Daniel’s brooding sullenness came from. But that other side, the teasing liveliness that only showed itself on occasion – usually when he was pulling my leg about my hair which I realised now was out of fondness and not malice – was his grandmother’s. She had kept her figure well for a woman in her late sixties and, despite her grey-laced raven hair, was the image of her beautiful mother whose portrait hung in Fencott Place. The room, even the hospital ward, seemed to fill with rushing meteors the moment she walked in.

  ‘Now, I know he’s your son, Sheila dear,’ she said briskly but with infinite compassion, ‘but you must listen to what William says. Daniel is strong—’

  ‘Strong? Look how he was when he came back from Korea!’

  ‘Well, that was hardly surprising, was it, dear? And it was precisely because he is so strong that he survived all that. And it was three years ago now. He’ll pull through this, won’t he, William?’

  ‘Absolutely no reason why not,’ William nodded with confidence.

  ‘There we are, then. Now then, young Lily, I understand you played a very important part in keeping Daniel calm when he was brought in.’

  She turned those piercing, lavender eyes on me, and I felt I had been pricked with some sort of stimulant, or had received an electric shock. If Daniel reckoned his grandmother was a mere character beside her sister, I wondered quite what Great Aunt Marianne had been like!

  ‘I did my best,’ I replied, surprised by my own animated expression when I was feeling utterly drained after my near sleepless night. ‘It was such a shock, but I naturally wanted to help.’

  ‘Well, I’m sure you were wonderful. Daniel told us all about you when he stayed with us over Christmas.’

  ‘Did he?’ I answered in surprise.

  Katherine Pencarrow’s eyes twinkled brightly. ‘Oh, yes. He’s very fond of you, you know.’

  I pressed my lips together. Yes. Fond. Like a little dog, perhaps. Or a child. I glanced across at Edwin who was, with William, trying to console Sheila and convince her that her son would recover. I didn’t really care how Daniel thought of me. I knew already. Carrots. A sort of teasing endearment, I supposed. One that, once he was better, he would continue to taunt me with. But Edwin. Fondness. That was all it would ever be. And I wondered if the wound would ever heal.

  It was, nonetheless, such a happy relief when, a few days later, Daniel broke into a smile when he saw me coming down the ward. Even if it was, in truth, more of a wry grimace.

  ‘You’ve caught me at a good time,’ he announced, although I noticed that his words were a touch slurred and his eyes lacked their usual clarity. ‘I’m due another shot of morphine soon which means the last lot has worn off and I’m apparently more lucid, as they put it. But as soon as they give me the next one, they make me do these deep-breathing and coughing exercises before the morphine makes me fall asleep again. Supposed to avoid pneumonia or something. But I tell you, it’s bloody torture. Still,’ he added, raising one eyebrow, ‘at least it keeps my mind off everything else that hurts.’

  I realised he was rambling slightly, but I couldn’t help but smile. ‘Oh, dear, you’re not a very good patient, are you, Daniel? And don’t let Matron hear you swearing. But Edwin tells me your X-ray this morning was good. The pneumothorax has nearly gone. And…’ I stopped to glance down at the glass jar. ‘There’s hardly any air leaking out now, so the drain will be coming out soon.’

  ‘Won’t stop these bloody ribs hurting each time I take a breath.’

  ‘Daniel!’ I warned.

  He threw me a dark look, but his pale cheeks coloured a little. ‘Sorry.’ He let out a sharp sigh but it made him wince and he tightened his arm across his chest. He really did look poorly, propped up wearily on a neat pile of pillows. I noticed that the dressing on his shoulder had been removed and a scab was trying to form over the extensive area of grazing, but it was deep and sloughing in places.

  ‘That looks pretty sore, too,’ I sympathised.

  He turned his head slightly to look down at the wound. ‘Edwin wanted the air to dry it out. Should get away without a skin graft, though, he reckons. But I’ll be pleased when I can have a pyjama top on again. I don’t feel right half naked.’

  I actually thought he looked rather attractive with his broad shoulders and bare chest disappearing beneath the sheets, but perhaps that was what he meant. There were two young nurses on the ward seeing to his personal needs, and if even I could see how handsome Daniel was… ‘You’re not cold, are you?’ I asked to disguise my own momentary embarrassment.

  ‘No, no.’ There was a second or two’s silence when Daniel lowered his eyes and then looked at me again sideways. ‘Lily, do you know what happened? I can’t remember a damn thing. All I remember is waking up here in this bed with my leg in plaster and a thumping headache. Not to mention the ribs, of course.’

  I frowned. ‘You don’t remember going over the edge and being thrown out of the jeep?’

  ‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘Not at all. Nothing.’

  ‘Just as well. It must have been terrifying.’

  ‘Yes, but I need to know, Lily.’ He fixed me with those deep, arresting eyes, putting me on edge.

  ‘It seems you were forced off the road,’ I told him simply. ‘It wasn’t your fault.’

  ‘That’s something, I suppose,’ he scorned with a hint of sarcasm.

  ‘And you muttered something about a lorry.’

  ‘Did I?’

  ‘Yes. When you came in. We told the police, and they’ve been checking local lorries for damage, and they’ve asked all local garages to be on the lookout. But there’s been no joy so far, and no witnesses.’

  Daniel’s eyes were trained intently on me, as if he was willing me to come up with an answer. When I didn’t, he sank back onto the pillows. The slight movement obviously hurt him and he screwed his eyes shut, but he didn’t complain. Instead, he lay utterly still as if I wasn’t there. I stood looking down at him and I felt my heart lurch curiously. My eyes moved over his strong torso and I felt ashamed, as if I was taking advantage of his vulnerable situation. I wasn’t, of course. I felt nothing but sympathy, and my brow furrowed as I noticed several small, round marks on his chest like faint scars. What on earth…?

  ‘Right, Mr Pencarrow. Time for your morphine.’

  Daniel’s eyes flew open and he looked at me in desperate pleading. ‘Oh, God, not again,’ I heard him murmur under his breath. ‘Those bloody exercises.’

  ‘They’re for your own good,’ I said limply.

  ‘Oh, don’t you start.’

  ‘Now then, Mr Pencarrow, it’s in your own interests.’

  ‘It’s all right for you to say that. It’s not your bloody ribs that hurt.’

  ‘Mr Pen—’

  ‘And all that morphine’s making me feel so sick. In fact…oh, hell…’

  His shoulders heaved and he let out a choked cry as he sat up abruptly, his hand reaching out and fumbling. In a trice, Sister swept the bowl from the bedside locker and held it under his chin, her other arm around his shoulders as he retched violently. I stood back, biting my lip. It must have been sheer agony, and when it was over and Sister helped him to lie back, I could see tears swimming in his eyes and his lips were curled back from his teeth.

  ‘Poo
r chap,’ Sister whispered, all her affronted efficiency fled.

  Daniel groaned, his face savage with desperation. ‘And now you’re going to give me some more.’

  Sister shook her head. ‘No. The anti-emetics obviously aren’t working. So I think we’ll wait until Dr Franfield does his rounds, if you agree. He planned on taking you off the morphine tomorrow anyway and putting you on oral painkillers instead. They won’t be so effective, but you should start to feel better in yourself.’

  Daniel rolled his eyes. ‘Can’t win, can I?’ he muttered.

  I smiled encouragingly. ‘But you’re already improving. You seem over the worst of the concussion and your ribs will soon start to be less painful, won’t they, Sister?’

  ‘A little, yes. But it’ll be slow progress. The one that punctured your lung was a nasty fracture. You know Dr Franfield told you it will probably take the full six weeks before you’re totally pain free.’

  ‘Great. Thanks for reminding me.’

  ‘Well, never mind,’ I put in hastily. ‘Gloria’s coming to see you this afternoon. Perhaps she’ll have some herbal remedy you can take as well that might help.’

  He gave a jeering grunt. ‘You don’t seriously believe her potions work, do you?’

  ‘Some of them do, yes!’ I retorted, remembering the calming drink she had given me. And when a short, ironic laugh came from Daniel’s mouth, I felt all the old animosities return. What was it about Daniel that always ended up riling me so? ‘And if she could give you something to put you in a more civil frame of mind, I’m sure everyone would appreciate it!’