Lily's Journey

by Tania Crosse

  I wrote the letter, choosing my words with ultimate care. I decided not to reveal Sidney’s appalling actions, not yet at least. I showed the letter to Daniel before I posted it, and he nodded his approval.

  ‘He’d have to be made of iron not to be moved by that,’ he pronounced, and then he pulled me into his arms where I felt safe and secure. ‘Even if it doesn’t work out, you’re still my little Carrot Top, you know.’

  Tears had been welling in my eyes, but Daniel’s mild teasing drove them away. And then we walked along to the post box. I hesitated with the envelope in my hand.

  ‘We’ll do it together,’ Daniel smiled with such understanding that yet again I wanted to cry. ‘Come on. One, two, three, and we’ll drop it.’

  And once it was done, he wrapped his arms around me.

  I tried to forget about it then, and concentrate on other matters. We had decided there was no point in having a prolonged engagement. We already had a home and only wanted a simple wedding. Daniel didn’t see why we shouldn’t be married as soon as the banns could be read, but I persuaded him to wait until the spring. We wanted to be married in Princetown’s church and any earlier in the year we would run the risk of heavy snow and ten-foot drifts. Reluctantly, Daniel agreed.

  ‘Provided I don’t have to wait that long to have you in my bed again,’ he remarked with a rakish lift of one eyebrow.

  ‘Kate!’

  Her face lit up from the other side of the counter. She was still down in the dumps over Pete and I desperately wanted to cheer her up. I felt I had to damp down my high spirits over Daniel whenever I saw her, but today I had some news for her.

  ‘Kate, come here.’ I beckoned her to the gap in the counter so that I could talk to her in a low voice. ‘I’ve got something to tell you.’

  ‘Oh, yes?’ She looked at me expectantly and then her eyes stretched wide. ‘Oh, my God, you’re not… you know?’

  I had to chuckle. It was just like Kate to jump to conclusions. She could have been right, though, but since that first time we had been taking precautions, as Daniel put it. We wanted to fill that nursery with children, only not yet.

  ‘No, but listen, Kate. We’ve got permission to turn the house into a hotel.’

  ‘Really?’ Kate was clearly amazed.

  ‘Yes. It was Daniel’s grandmother’s idea. There’s loads to do. A new generator, heating, plumbing, fire escapes. And we want to get a residents’ licence. And then there’ll be advertising, all sorts. But once we’ve got started, I’m going to need help. In the kitchen, waitressing, cleaning. And it would be good to have someone I know and trust. So…what do you think?’

  ‘What, me?’ she gawped.

  ‘Of course you!’ I grinned. ‘And we could have heaps of eligible young bachelors to stay, and you could take your pick!’

  ‘Oh, Lily! Yes, please!’

  ‘Good. That’s one problem solved. Must get back to work now!’

  And I left her grinning from ear to ear.

  ‘Someone on the phone for you, Lily. A Betty Harewood?’

  Wendy shrugged as she flung herself down on the sofa that evening. I had been dreaming into the fire, thinking of the weekend which I would spend at Fencott Place as usual. Daniel had been persuaded that some degree of propriety should exist between us, so I stayed in Tavistock during the week, but the minute I finished work at lunchtime on Saturdays, I was in my little car chugging up to the moor.

  Betty Harewood? I frowned to myself as I went out into the hall. And then my heart clenched in panic. Could Betty Harewood be the woman my father lived with? I was quaking in my shoes as I picked up the receiver.

  ‘Hello, Lily Hayes speaking,’ I gulped.

  ‘Betty Harewood here,’ a voice announced itself at the other end of the line. ‘You don’t know me, but Kevin has asked me to ring you. He got your letter.’

  ‘Oh.’ A coldness trickled through my veins, and I braced myself. He didn’t want to know me. Or didn’t believe me. After all that. My legs seemed to be encased in stone and I stared at the telephone table. It needed dusting.

  ‘It was a bit of a shock,’ Betty Harewood went on, and I noticed she spoke with a faint Plymothian accent. ‘But he would like to meet you. Would you like to come to tea on Sunday?’

  ‘Oh, erm,’ I mumbled. My brain seemed to have stopped working and my thoughts reached out for support. ‘I…er…yes, please. But…er…would you mind if my fiancé came, too?’

  ‘Fiancé, eh? Well, I’m sure he’d be welcome. Now I’ll give you the address.’

  A minute later, I stumbled back into the lounge. Wendy looked up brightly as she bit into a Bounty, her favourite chocolate bar. And I burst into tears.

  Everyone was there to see us off on our mission. Deborah and William were, as always, kindness itself, and Wendy hugged me dramatically. Ian and Sadie both wished me well with genuine affection, and Edwin was talking quietly with Daniel.

  ‘Time to go, love.’ Daniel turned to me, dipping his head.

  ‘Hope it goes well,’ Edwin said with a sincere smile.

  I took a deep breath, excited and yet petrified. Daniel helped me into my coat, and we hurried down the long front path to the Bentley.

  ‘You look beautiful,’ he whispered as he opened the door for me.

  My heart was fluttering in my chest as Daniel drove through Yelverton towards the outskirts of Plymouth and the suburb of Mannamead. I couldn’t think of any words, and it was all I could do to hold myself together. So I gazed out at the moor, at familiar landmarks, the distinctive mound of Sheeps Tor dusted with white on that bitterly cold December day. And then we left Dartmoor behind as the road became lined with houses.

  ‘It was good of Uncle Artie to ring and wish you luck.’ Daniel broke the silence at last.

  ‘Yes,’ I smiled back nervously. ‘Without him, this would never have happened. He always seems lonely, and yet he’s so kind. What was it happened to him in the Great War?’

  It was a way of distracting my own crippling suspense, but the answer filled me with sadness. ‘If I tell you, you must never let on you know,’ Daniel replied gravely. ‘A shell blew up just in front of him. He survived, obviously, but he had shocking injuries to the front of his body and, well, let’s just say he could never father children and thought it wasn’t fair to any woman. I only know because Ed told me.’

  I lowered my eyes. ‘Oh, poor man. And there’s me apprehensive about meeting my own father.’

  ‘You wouldn’t be human if you weren’t. Ah, I think we must turn down here. And then just around the corner, and number sixteen.’

  Daniel drew the Bentley to a halt and turned off the engine. It was a terraced house in a neat, residential street. Nothing grand but quite respectable. I shivered as I got out of the car, my teeth chattering, and not from the cold. Then Daniel was by my side and took both my hands.

  ‘It doesn’t matter what happens,’ he said, his eyes deep pools of compassion. ‘I love you, and we’re going to have a wonderful life together. So.’ He bent and placed a tender kiss on my mouth. ‘Ready?’

  I swallowed, and nodded. And walked up the path on unsteady legs.

  Before I could knock, the door opened. I froze on the spot. A man stood there, balancing on some sort of walking frame. He was in his late forties, I guessed, dressed in a check shirt with a plain tie and one of those comfortable, camel-coloured cardigans with leather buttons. He wasn’t particularly tall, was of slim build and… I was staring into a mirror of my own silver grey eyes. And he had greying, red-gold hair.

  My God.

  The world stopped turning and I was in danger of falling off the edge. I think I whimpered and my knees went weak. Only Daniel’s steadying hand under my elbow stopped me from falling.

  ‘Lily,’ a broken voice croaked. ‘My own little Lily.’

  And then a bustling, elderly woman came up the passage behind him ‘Kevin, dear, what are you—’

  ‘I wanted to meet my daughter standing on my own two f
eet.’

  There was a stubborn tone to his words, and I rejoiced. I could sense myself in him.

  Our eyes met. His were tear-filled. And I hugged him across the walking frame. Held him. Not wanting to let go.

  ‘Well, don’t stand there on the doorstep this snipey weather!’ Betty said from behind him. ‘Come on in!’

  I glanced back at Daniel, and he winked at me. It’s going to be all right, his expression said. And it was.

  ‘For sixteen years I believed you were dead,’ Kevin, my father, told me when we were sitting in the neat front room around a laden tea-tray. ‘I suppose Sidney said that to punish me. He could never forgive me for what I did. Rightly so, probably. I wanted Cynthia to divorce him, but she wouldn’t. But to think he made me believe you were dead!’ he sighed incredulously. ‘And we used to be friends.’

  I threw Daniel a frightened glance, and he gave an almost imperceptible nod. I took my courage in both hands. ‘He wasn’t as good a friend as you thought. I’ve…I’ve got something to show you. But first, if it isn’t too painful, tell me about my mother. Please. Sidney wouldn’t tell me anything. He was too embittered.’

  My father raised his eyebrows wistfully. ‘She was lovely. Pretty, funny. Kind, and very upright. Just as you would expect someone brought up by such good people as John and Ellen. Yes,’ he smiled at my sudden surprise. ‘I met them at Sidney and Cynthia’s wedding. It was the first time I’d met Cynthia, too, and I fell in love with her at first sight. And I soon saw how their marriage wasn’t working out. Your mother was a gentle creature and Sidney, well, he dominated her.’

  ‘I could imagine that,’ I put in.

  ‘He wasn’t a bad husband. He just had very deep-rooted beliefs. If he’d been Catholic, he might have become a priest. He just…stifled your mother. And she turned to me. We…’ He paused, his mouth twisting awkwardly. ‘We were in love for years. But Cynthia was utterly faithful. It was…only the once. When Cynthia found she was pregnant and realised it could only be mine, well, she couldn’t help but be honest about it. Sidney hated her for it. But he had to maintain a façade of respectability. No one else knew. Cynthia sent me a couple of photographs of you. We even managed to meet secretly once or twice so that I could hold you. And then the war came along.’

  He broke off with a rueful half smile. He had told me what I had yearned, prayed, to hear. I felt comforted, encouraged. My father was a normal, reasonable man. Not twisted or angry. I owed him the truth. The pulse reverberated in my skull as I handed him the book opened at the relevant page.

  ‘What’s this?’ he asked, reaching into his pocket for some spectacles.

  ‘Sidney kept a diary,’ I managed to wring the words from my throat. ‘You should read it, but…I think you should read this bit first, and I’ll help Betty with the washing up.’ And I shot out into the kitchen with the pleasant woman who had been his nurse and companion for seven years.

  Ten minutes later, I could hear the two men’s voices in low conversation, and then Daniel came to stand in the doorway.

  ‘You can come back in. And it’s all right, Lily.’

  I looked at him warily and then followed him back into the room. My father was nodding his head thoughtfully and gave me such a smile as I sat down that my heart melted.

  ‘It’s hard to believe, isn’t it?’ I began cautiously.

  ‘But you must never, ever blame yourself for this!’ my father insisted. ‘I mean, I never had any idea. Though it does explain something. Sidney died nearly three years ago, you say?’

  I frowned. ‘Yes. It’ll be three years in February.’

  ‘Mmm. Yes. That’s when it stopped.’ He leant forward in his chair. ‘Every month, I received cash in the post. Anonymous, but postmarked Princetown. I sometimes wondered if it wasn’t from the person who did this to me. Now I know it was. He must have somehow found out the nursing home where I was. But he obviously never knew that I’d come to live here with Betty. The home always forwarded the envelopes, you see.’

  My jaw dropped open. So that was where all Sidney’s money had gone. I was so pleased!

  ‘That cash came in handy,’ my father was smiling now. ‘We built on the downstairs bathroom. I can’t manage stairs, you see. I sleep in the back room, and I use my wheelchair when I go out. But I’m not a total cripple as you see, so things aren’t as bad as you probably expected from those newspaper cuttings. And now I want to hear all about you and your young man here.’

  We talked on, until it was getting dark and Betty turned on the light. I didn’t think we could ever say all we wanted to. And then Daniel looked at his watch.

  ‘I think perhaps we should be leaving,’ he suggested quietly.

  ‘Of course, lad,’ my father agreed. ‘But I do hope you’ll come again.’ His voice faltered for just an instant. ‘You don’t know how much this has meant to me.’

  I felt my heart tear. ‘Yes I do. This is just the beginning, Dad.’ I snatched in my breath. That little word that meant so much had found its way onto my tongue of its own accord. ‘And I hope you’ll both be coming to our wedding.’

  Dad straightened his shoulders, lifting his chin proudly. ‘I hope you’ll allow me the honour of giving you away!’

  ‘Oh, yes! Yes, please!’ My words vibrated with emotion and I hugged him once again.

  We were coming back into Yelverton. I had been so excited, chatting all the way and hardly able to sit still. But now I had run out of words and was enjoying the elation that consumed me.

  ‘Daniel, can we go home?’ I suddenly requested.

  ‘But I am taking you home.’

  ‘No, I mean our home. Everyone will want to know all about it. Wendy especially will want to know every detail, and rightly so. But…just now, I want to be quiet to take it all in. I want it to be just you and me. That’s if you don’t mind dropping me into work in the morning.’

  Beside me, Daniel chuckled in the darkness as he changed gear to turn up onto the moor rather than continuing towards Tavistock. ‘How could I mind if it means I’ll have you in my bed tonight? And I’m sure Trojan will be pleased to see me back earlier than expected.’

  ‘Oh, he’s a very clever dog but I wasn’t aware that he could tell the time,’ I answered with a straight face, and Daniel laughed aloud as the Bentley effortlessly took the long, steep climb up onto the moor. The land appeared more bleak and barren than ever, a group of sheep considered hardy enough to winter on the exposed uplands appearing as ghostly shadows in the headlights. We drove through thin patches of mist and as we came into Princetown, ponies were huddling in protected corners of the village. It was all so solid and strong. So eternal. And I was home.

  ‘Gloria was right, you know,’ I said as we turned up Tor Royal Lane just before Albert Terrace. ‘She told me once that everything would be all right in the end. Almost as if she had second sight.’

  ‘Well, maybe she does. I know I’m pretty sceptical about such things, but who knows? It’s a magical place, Dartmoor. Full of untold mysteries. And miracles. It brought you to me, didn’t it, when I thought I’d never find happiness again?’

  I smiled at the windscreen and shifted over in my seat so that I could rest my head on Daniel’s arm, absorbing the movement as he changed up after the sharp bend at Tor Royal. I breathed in the familiar masculine scent of him, squinted up at his firm jaw line as he concentrated on the lonely road. When we finally pulled into the driveway, I unlocked the side gates to the old stable-yard, secured them again when Daniel had driven through, and then went to wait on the terrace while he put the car in the barn.

  I stood, gazing out over the shadows of the moor. The night was crisp and frosty, nipping at my nose, and a clear, half moon shed a silvery, diaphanous glow over the undulating wilderness that stretched to the black velvet dome of the sky. Daniel came up behind me, lacing his arms around my waist, and I leant back against him, totally at peace.

  ‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’ he sighed in my ear.

  ‘And
to think I might never have known such a place existed,’ I murmured back, enraptured. Bewitched. ‘Strange thing, fate.’

  Yes. Everything had fallen into place. At last, I knew who I was, and where I belonged. And who I loved with a passion that bewildered me.

  I felt him kiss the top of my head. I turned to him and smiled, and he took my hand as we stepped across the terrace to the door.

  Author’s Note

  Both the Cribbett family and the Mead family have kindly given permission for members of their families to appear as the real-life characters that they were in the 1950s. Unfortunately, my efforts to trace the family of Mr Bill Gough, the engine-driver, were unsuccessful. I do hope I will be forgiven for repeating some well-known – and previously published – stories about him, and that my portrayal of him will be taken in the spirit in which it was written, that is to say a tribute to a much-loved and respected gentleman.

  Readers who know Dartmoor will recognise many of the places referred to in the book, but please be aware of the dangers of the abandoned quarries and take notice of the warning signs. For those who are curious, Fencott Place does not actually exist!

  Acknowledgements

  Firstly, I would like to thank my marvellous agent who encouraged me to write my first story set in the 1950s, and Allison and Busby for agreeing to publish it! My friend Paul Rendell, Dartmoor guide, historian and editor of The Dartmoor News, was, as always, my first port of call for research. I must thank also Roger Paul of the Princetown History Society, Bill Radcliffe of Albert Terrace, and in particular Leslie and Evelyn Cribbett and Ivan Mead for their lifetime memories of Princetown. Kath Brewer told me about when she lived at the cottages at Foggintor and the first stage of their demolition, Elizabeth Stanbrook gave further details of the use of the stone for the television station, and Nick Luff answered my questions on the steam railway.