Lily's Journey

by Tania Crosse

  A stunned silence crackled through the air as she grinned at everyone in turn, her chest inflating and then falling with a heavy, ecstatic sigh as if she had achieved something momentous. Which I suppose she had.

  Adam and Sheila broke out in profuse thanks.

  ‘Well, you deserve it,’ Katherine was saying somewhere in another world. ‘You’ve both worked so hard for the family estate without having a home of your own and…’

  Her words drifted over my head. I could only bite my lip as I gazed at Daniel. While the others were talking nineteen to the dozen, he was utterly silent, his face white as he stared, motionless, at his fingers which were still around the stem of his wine glass. I couldn’t judge his reaction other than his being in total shock. And I wanted to go to him. Put my arms around him. But I found that I couldn’t move either.

  The hubbub of animated conversation quietened after several minutes, and all eyes turned on Daniel. He still hadn’t moved and was so pale that I was becoming worried.

  ‘Daniel?’ his granny prompted.

  I saw him swallow hard. ‘Thank you,’ he murmured at last.

  ‘You, too, deserve it. You’ve worked so hard to restore the place—’

  ‘But how am I supposed to afford the upkeep?’ he suddenly blurted out distraughtly. ‘There’s so much still needs doing, and then there’ll be so much maintenance, and I won’t have time for that if I have to get a job to pay the bills. And you know I’m not like Dad. I’m not a financial wizard. I’m just…just… The place will fall into rack and ruin again.’

  There was an awful moment when nobody moved. Daniel turned his head away, eyes lowered and his hand over his mouth. His shoulders were rigid and I felt my heart thump in my chest. Only I knew the horrendous details of what haunted him still, and he wasn’t ready for this. Instinct led me to go round to him and take his other hand. It didn’t occur to me to think how his family might interpret the gesture.

  ‘It’s all right, Daniel,’ I muttered lamely.

  ‘Have a cigarette, son,’ Adam put in, shoving his packet of Players down the table in Daniel’s direction. ‘It’ll calm you down.’

  ‘No!’ Daniel barked back with such ferocity that I jumped. ‘You know how I feel about those things!’

  But before anyone else could respond, Katherine was speaking brightly again. ‘Oh, no need to worry about all that! I should have said. I’ve also made over some of my investments to you which will provide a modest income. But after that, it’s up to you.’ She paused, her head on one side. ‘I’m sorry it was a bit of a shock and you not fully recovered from this dreadful accident yet, but it really was time I did it. I do have a suggestion, though.’ She took a dramatic breath, her eyes twinkling. ‘Tourism in the area is expanding. People are taking holidays here more and more. And they need somewhere decent to stay. This house – I remember it full of laughter and people – and I’d like to see it like that again. Its position is ideal! It’d make a superb hotel! So, what do you think?’

  Daniel raised his head, his eyes stretched wide. He blinked, a slow swoop and lift of those long dark lashes, and continued to gaze silently at the old lady’s smiling face.

  ‘And Lily here could do the food,’ she went on gaily. ‘You’re such an excellent cook, dear. And with your background, you could take charge of the admin. Daniel could do the maintenance and all that sort of thing, and guided walks across the moor. You’d make a wonderful team. In fact, if I may be so bold, you’d make a very handsome couple altogether!’

  I’m sure my jaw must have dropped a mile. Katherine Pencarrow was outrageous! She was grinning at us now, her eyes sparkling with expectation. I really didn’t know where to put my face. I couldn’t look at Daniel, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw his cheeks, which a moment ago had been the colour of unfired clay, turn a deep scarlet.

  ‘I’m not sure about that,’ I heard him mumble in embarrassment. ‘I can’t think why Lily should want to work with me. She has a good career of her own.’

  His voice had become stronger as he spoke, and I felt grateful as I couldn’t think of a thing to say myself. But Daniel had successfully diverted the conversation away from our relationship and I managed to collect my thoughts sufficiently to chip in, ‘I love my job at the hospital. I couldn’t possibly imagine doing anything else.’

  ‘Oh, pity!’ Katherine gave a heartfelt sigh. ‘But think about the hotel idea, Daniel. It might be just the ticket! Now, Lily dear, what sumptuous dessert have you prepared for us?’

  ‘I’m sorry about Gran,’ Daniel said a couple of hours later. ‘She means well but…’

  I had brought my car round to the front of the house and Adam had carried out my case and put it in the boot for me. I had said my goodbyes and everyone else had gone inside leaving Daniel and I facing each other rather awkwardly.

  ‘She’s certainly a bit of a character,’ I smiled, attempting to pour oil on troubled water.

  Daniel gave a wry grunt. ‘She can be too outspoken at times. So my apologies once again. And thank you, Lily. For everything.’

  ‘I’ve really enjoyed myself!’ I assured him. ‘It’s been great staying up on the moor again. I hadn’t realised how much I’d missed it.’

  ‘Oh, well, that’s good then.’

  There was a tension between us, but it was very different from the antagonism we had once shared, and I recognised that I was reluctant to leave. ‘Your family’s only staying a week, aren’t they? And your appointment at the clinic isn’t until the following Friday?’

  ‘I’m sure I can manage on my own the last few days. The ribs are settling down which has been the main problem, so I can hop around the kitchen if need be.’

  ‘I don’t like the sound of that. What if you slipped? Tell you what, I’ll drive up and stay each night. Cook us a meal. Save you doing that, at least.’

  I brightened at the idea and was disappointed when Daniel shook his head. ‘I can’t ask you to do that after all you’ve done already.’

  ‘You’re not asking, I’m offering. So that’s settled, then. I’ll come up next Sunday,’ I said casually over my shoulder as I slid in behind the wheel. ‘Take care of yourself!’ And I started the engine.

  I watched him in the mirror, a tall, lean, attractive figure balancing on his crutches, and then he was gone as I turned out of the drive. I felt strange and contemplative as I drove across the bleak moor into Princetown and then down to Tavistock. I was saddened that my week at Fencott Place was over because I really had revelled in the lovely old house and opening my curtains each morning to those stunning, far-reaching views. But I had become increasingly intrigued by Daniel’s complex personality. I wanted to know more and I was determined to finish typing the book for him. I had lifted the lid and glimpsed at what had made him so dark and brooding, and now I wanted to understand him completely. I still wasn’t sure how I really felt about him deep down, but it didn’t really matter. He looked upon me as a friend, just as Edwin had done, so that was all there was to it.

  ‘Hello, stranger!’ Wendy greeted me buoyantly as I went into the Franfield’s lounge. ‘Oh, it’s seemed so quiet without you! How’s old grumpy guts?’ she grinned as she linked her arm in mine and led me over to sit with her and Ian on the sofa.

  ‘Much better and much happier to be home, of course!’

  ‘That’s good to hear,’ Edwin nodded, ‘although I’m going up to check him over tomorrow after surgery.’ Sadie was obviously off-duty which only happened occasionally on a Sunday and they were sitting up at the table poring over estate agent details.

  ‘You know, you shouldn’t talk about Daniel like that,’ I reprimanded Wendy mildly. ‘He’s been telling me some of what happened to him in Korea. He went through a terrible time, you know. It must take a lot of getting over. You see some of these things in films, but it isn’t until you associate with someone who’s actually been through it that you begin to realise.’

  Beside me, Wendy pulled a long face. ‘Yes, I suppose
so. But it’s been over three years now.’

  ‘Maybe, but I don’t think you could ever forget something like that.’

  ‘Let’s just pray it never happens again.’

  I nodded gratefully at Edwin. That tiny barb pricked at me again, but it didn’t go deep. In fact, I found myself smiling at him and Sadie as they planned their life together. They looked made for each other, and I felt happy for them.

  ‘I’m gasping for a cuppa!’ I announced, leaping up. ‘Anyone else want one?’

  ‘Mum’s already down in the kitchen making one.’

  ‘I’ll pop down and lend her a hand, then!’ I cried, and my heart already felt lighter.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  ‘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.