The Best of Daughters

by Dilly Court

  ‘She’s a friend too, and as far as we know she’s on her own. It’s impossible for a woman in her condition to get work.’

  ‘She’s Bowman’s problem, not yours.’ Beatrice leaned across the table. ‘It’s him, isn’t it, Daisy? Bowman is the reason you disappeared off to London for months on end.’ She shook her head, chuckling. ‘Who would have believed that my big sister, the pure-minded suffragist, has fallen into the deadly trap?’

  Daisy lifted her hand to signal to the waitress. ‘May I have the bill, please?’

  ‘Yes, miss. Right away.’ The girl took a pad from her pocket and began to write laboriously with the tip of her tongue held between her teeth.

  Beatrice dabbed her lips with a napkin. ‘You won’t get away with it that easily, Daisy. We’ve got three hours or more stuck in that rattletrap. I’ll get the truth out of you before we arrive back at Rainbow’s End.’

  ‘There’s nothing to tell,’ Daisy said, recovering gallantly. She loved her sister but she did not trust her to keep such a dire secret to herself. She placed some coins on the bill proffered on a plate by the young waitress, adding a generous tip, and she rose from her seat. ‘Come along, Bea. The storm’s passed over and I want to get home before dark.’

  Bowman had not been there when she delivered the car to his workshop after her fruitless trip to London, and she had parked it at the kerb and walked home. He had not made any attempt to see her, and although she was relieved she was angry that he had not bothered to enquire about Ruby. He truly was a heartless wretch. She held grimly on to that thought and spent the next couple of days writing advertisements asking Ruby or anyone who knew her current whereabouts to contact her. She posted them off to both the national and local newspapers, although with little hope of receiving a reply.

  With the wedding almost upon them she had little time to herself, although her mother and Lady Pendleton were confident that they had thought of everything. Even so, there were last minute crises and causes for panic when two of the smallest bridesmaids went down with chickenpox, and the Scottish salmon which had been sent down by train arrived in a less than fresh state. Another order was placed, but if it did not arrive on time the guests would be eating chicken instead of galantine of salmon.

  On a more personal level, Victor’s morning suit had not yet arrived from Moss Bros in Covent Garden and he was considering whether or not to take a day off work and travel up to London to collect it, and Gwendoline was not happy with the hat she had ordered from the milliner in Colchester. When she was not panicking about trivial matters she was bemoaning the fact that she could no longer afford to shop in Bond Street. Daisy kept as low a profile as possible, but she rushed to get the post every day in the hope that there might be something from Ruby, and each time she was disappointed.

  Despite the desperate situation in Europe and the ever present threat of war, Rupert and Teddy had been granted two days’ leave and were due to arrive home on Friday. Gwendoline was in a high state of excitement at the thought of seeing her son, and had hired a girl from the village to clean the house from top to bottom, paying special attention to Teddy’s room. The bed was aired and made up with freshly laundered sheets and pillowcases. A small nosegay of clove-scented pinks from the garden had been lovingly placed on the dressing table by his mother, and one of the under-cooks from Pendleton Park had been delegated to Rainbow’s End to cater for the family up to and for a short time after the wedding.

  Daisy herself was becoming increasingly nervous. She had not seen Rupert since Christmas and she was beginning to realise how difficult life must be for an army wife, with the inevitable long separations and the reunions which might at best be blissful or at worst slightly awkward.

  It was late on Thursday evening when the telegram boy arrived at Rainbow’s End. The maid had gone home and it was Daisy who answered the door. She took the envelope with trembling fingers.

  ‘Any answer, miss?’ The boy, whom she recognised as Percy Bourne, the miller’s son, shuffled his feet.

  She held the lamp high enough to read the brief message. Leave cancelled. Will telephone. All my love, Rupert.

  ‘Any answer, miss?’ Percy’s freckled face looked pale and pixie-like in the shadows.

  She shook her head. ‘No. Thank you, Percy.’ She took a few pennies from her pocket and thrust them into his outstretched hand. ‘Goodnight.’

  He saluted and ran down the path to vault onto his bicycle.

  ‘Who is it, dear?’

  She turned to see her father standing behind her and she flung her arms around his neck, allowing the telegram to flutter to the ground.

  Next day Daisy left the house soon after breakfast to walk the half-mile or so to Pendleton Park. She found Lady Pendleton in the morning room. She was still wearing her flimsy silk peignoir and the swirling, semi-translucent material flowed around her as she paced the floor, giving her the appearance of an agitated butterfly. She came to a halt as Daisy entered the room and rushed over to hug her, enveloping her in a cloud of L’Heure Bleue. ‘Daisy, my dear girl. This is terrible news. Henry has been on the telephone to the War Office since last evening when we received the telegram.’

  ‘I don’t understand,’ Daisy said dully. ‘Why has Rupert’s leave been cancelled?’

  ‘I can’t say for certain, my dear. I believe it’s the wretched political situation, but one can never be sure of these things. Everything is shrouded in secrecy. Even my husband is finding it difficult to get an answer.’

  ‘Rupert said he would telephone. May I wait here until he does?’

  Lady Pendleton released her and sank down on a chair at the table, which was set for breakfast. ‘Of course, Daisy. Ring for the maid and I’ll have fresh coffee and toast brought to us. I couldn’t manage anything more substantial, unless you, of course . . .’ She broke off, leaving the question suspended in thin air.

  ‘I couldn’t eat a thing,’ Daisy murmured, pressing the bell push. ‘But coffee would be lovely.’ She went to sit at the table, folding her hands on her lap. ‘Does this mean that the wedding is off, ma’am?’

  Jane Pendleton’s eyes filled with tears of sympathy as she patted Daisy’s hand. ‘I don’t know, my dear. I really have no idea whether Henry can pull enough strings to grant Rupert and your brother a few hours’ compassionate leave. It depends on the situation in Europe, but I’m afraid that it’s getting very serious.’

  ‘You don’t think we’re going to war, do you?’

  Lady Pendleton bowed her head. ‘That’s exactly what I think, but we will have to wait and see.’

  It was the longest morning of Daisy’s life. She drank copious cups of coffee but she had no appetite for food. Lady Pendleton retired to her bedroom to get dressed but when she came downstairs an hour later, looking pale but elegant in a dove-grey silk morning gown, there had been no change. Lord Pendleton remained in his study, appearing occasionally to tell them that he was unable to get any sense out of the War Office, and had demanded to speak to the minister for war in person. The waiting seemed endless.

  Gwendoline arrived at the house shortly before lunch time but was in such a state of nerves that Lady Pendleton sent her home again in the Rolls with Worley in attendance, having given her strict instructions to settle Mrs Lennox in bed and remain with her until she was feeling able to cope. Victor was sent for and also Beatrice, who as usual had gone to the Gurneys’ farm.

  Daisy paced the floor in the crimson and gold saloon. Suddenly everything seemed totally unreal. She felt nothing other than a state of confusion. She did not know whether she was sorry or even slightly relieved that Rupert’s leave had been cancelled at the last moment. It was almost impossible to believe that tomorrow was supposed to have been her wedding day. She was left very much to her own devices as Lady Pendleton was fully occupied dealing with the wedding guests who were already at the house, including the distant relations whom Rupert so disliked, and those who were still arriving.

  Daisy was shielded from
this but in truth she would have appreciated having something to do. Time hung heavy on her hands, and when everyone took their places in the dining room at lunch time she had to suffer sympathetic looks and whispers, although quite obviously Lady Pendleton had forbidden anyone to raise the subject that was uppermost in their minds.

  In the afternoon everyone drifted off to walk in the grounds or to play cards in the library. Some retired to the billiard room while others elected to take a nap so that they were fresh for the evening. Despite the slightly subdued atmosphere it was impossible to pretend that they had not gathered together for a wedding celebration. The only problem was that the bridegroom was missing and, unless Lord Pendleton managed to exert his considerable influence, likely to remain so. Sitting at the window and gazing onto the parkland, Daisy wondered vaguely what they would do with all the food that was still being prepared in the kitchens, and the crates of champagne that were cooling in the cellars. She had not seen the floral decorations in the church, but she could imagine the mixed fragrances of roses, lilies, freesias and orange blossom that scented the cool interior of the ancient building, and hopefully smothered the smell of must from aged hymnals and the hint of dry rot and damp that welled up from the crypt.

  She jumped as someone tapped her on the shoulder, and she rose quickly when she realised that it was Lord Pendleton himself. ‘Sir?’

  ‘Rupert is on the blower in my study, Daisy. He wants a word.’

  Chapter Fifteen

  DAISY SAT DOWN, still clutching the telephone receiver in her hand long after they had said goodbye. It seemed so final. Rupert was not allowed out of the barracks even for the shortest possible period of time, despite the fact that it was so close to home. There was little he could tell her other than the fact that all leave had been cancelled as they were under orders, and it appeared that the wedding must be postponed indefinitely. His voice had cracked with emotion but she had remained quite calm. She knew that she ought to have been desolated by the news but if truth were told she felt as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. All the wealth and grandeur of Pendleton Park meant very little to her, especially when her country’s safety was at risk. If she had been a man she would have wanted to be at the forefront, even though the thought of violence and bloodshed terrified her. She looked up as the door opened and Lady Pendleton billowed into the room with her arms outstretched.

  ‘My darling girl. I am so desperately sorry.’ She enveloped Daisy in a hug. ‘Rupert must be utterly devastated, as I’m sure you are too.’ She took the receiver from Daisy’s hand and hung it back on the hook. ‘Would you like to lie down? You may use my room and I’ll send a maid with tea and smelling salts, or perhaps a little brandy might help?’

  Daisy rose to her feet. She could hardly breathe and she felt that she would suffocate if she stayed in this house one moment longer. ‘Would you mind awfully if I went home? I’d like to tell Mother in person and I think it might embarrass all your house guests if I stayed. They wouldn’t know what to say to me.’

  Lady Pendleton kissed her on the cheek. ‘You are a sweet, thoughtful girl, Daisy. I am truly sorry that this has happened. Henry has done his uttermost to overturn the army’s decision, but they remained adamant that all leave is cancelled and that goes for everyone, including Rupert. But this present crisis must surely come to a swift end, and the wedding will take place at the first possible opportunity.’

  Daisy felt a twinge of conscience. ‘But all that expense. The wedding breakfast alone must have cost a fortune.’

  ‘My dear girl, it’s vulgar to talk about money. We will entertain our guests and your family will be most welcome to join us. After all, I can’t condone waste and the salmon won’t keep.’

  ‘But the church, and all those beautiful flower arrangements . . .’

  ‘The congregation will enjoy them, and perhaps they will lift their spirits a little.’ Lady Pendleton regarded her with a frown puckering her brow. ‘I shouldn’t tell you this, Daisy, and you must promise to keep it secret, but Henry thinks we will be at war with Germany within the week. It’s not official so don’t breathe a word to anyone. That is the only explanation for the way that our darling boy has been treated, and you young people are the first to suffer.’

  War. Daisy had heard rumours in the camps but it had always seemed such a distant threat, and now it was becoming a reality. ‘Lady Pendleton, might I ask for your support? There’s something I desperately want to do?’

  ‘Of course, my dear. But what is it?’

  ‘If what you say is true then I want to do something for my country. You know that I’ve been training for the First Aid Nursing Yeomanry.’

  ‘Yes, and I applaud your patriotism.’

  ‘I want to do more than that. I want to volunteer for active service.’

  Lady Pendleton sank down on the nearest chair. ‘But Daisy, I don’t think that’s a very good idea. What would Rupert say?’

  ‘I think he would encourage me, and I’m certain he wouldn’t try to stop me.’

  ‘But your parents would be terribly upset.’

  ‘I’m almost twenty-three, Lady Pendleton. I’m a free woman and I’m of age. I can make up my own mind.’

  ‘Oh, dear.’ Lady Pendleton held her hand to her brow. ‘Now I think I could do with a tot of brandy. Ring the bell for Warrington, Daisy.’

  War was declared on the fourth of August, and Rupert’s battalion left for France. He had the Prince Henry delivered back to Pendleton Park with a note giving Daisy permission to use it until his return. Lady Pendleton had made no objections and furthermore she had insisted that Daisy make full use of the house in Grosvenor Square. She herself would be remaining in the country for a few weeks yet, but then she would be travelling up to London and it would be nice to know that Daisy was there, waiting for her. Daisy was grateful, and although it seemed like cheating to take such an easy option it was a much better proposition than living in a rented room in a poorer part of town as did some of her friends in the Nursing Yeomanry. She said goodbye to her family amidst tears from both her mother and Beatrice, and a stern lecture on keeping safe from her father. She drove off in the Prince Henry with her luggage piled high in the back seat, and headed for London.

  It seemed strange at first, living in the echoing mansion alone except for the servants, the number of whom was declining as the younger male members of staff were enlisting in the army at an alarming rate. Daisy did not fancy sitting in solitary state in the enormous dining room at a table intended to seat twenty to thirty guests; neither did she want gargantuan meals. She sent instructions to the kitchen to serve her the same food as they ate in the servants’ hall when she dined alone in the morning room. Lord Pendleton also took up residence, in order to fulfil a senior position in the War Office, but Daisy saw him infrequently and only on the rare occasions when he dined at home. Otherwise she was very much alone in the house, but she did not mind as it gave her time to concentrate on her search for Ruby. She continued to put advertisements in the newspapers in the hope that she might see them and get in touch, but without success.

  She worked tirelessly to raise funds for the FANY. It was frustrating that they were barred from taking part in the war effort, and in desperation many of them had taken jobs with the VAD, but Daisy threw herself into organising sewing parties and collecting equipment in the hope of being able to utilise it should the authorities undergo a change of heart. Not only had they come up against a brick wall of prejudice from the War Office, but there was also considerable public opposition to women risking their lives and morals in the male-dominated theatre of war. The French and Belgian authorities were similarly inclined but Belgium had been invaded and was now in desperate need of medical assistance.

  In a heroic attempt to prove them all wrong, Grace Ashley-Smith decided to go it alone and travelled to Belgium in September, where she was stationed in a field hospital in Antwerp. Accounts of her valiant struggle against filth, disease and the dire cond
itions in which she attempted to help nurse the wounded and dying men filtered back to London, making Daisy and her colleagues even more eager to take an active part in the war.

  Their chance came at the end of October. Organised by Grace, working on behalf of the Belgians, the first FANY unit left Folkestone for a wet and windy Calais, and Daisy was proud to be amongst them. Within two days they had taken charge of Lamarck, an old convent school next to the cathedral in the rue de la Rivière. Although she had taken classes in nursing, Daisy had never been in a hospital before, let alone worked in one, but she tackled the tasks assigned to her with a will. The old buildings were in a desperate state and Daisy and her colleagues, most of whom had never done housework of any sort, found themselves faced with conditions which would have daunted the most experienced skivvy. The stench from the row of latrines was overpowering and only faintly masked by the copious amounts of disinfectant that they used to scrub the floors and wash down the walls.

  Daisy’s hands were raw by the end of the first day and her back ached miserably but she was determined to carry on without complaining. Some of the other young women found it even harder to cope with heavy physical work that would normally have been done by their servants. Daisy endeavoured to raise their flagging spirits, but it was difficult to remain positive and cheerful under such trying conditions. Each day was a battle against filth and lack of the most basic amenities. With just one stove and a small kettle to heat water it was almost impossible to achieve and maintain the minimum standard of cleanliness. They were short of the most fundamental needs for setting up a hospital, and had to cut sheets in half in order to make the beds ready to receive their first patients. Food was also in short supply and their staple diet of bread and jam washed down by cocoa was monotonous, but after a heavy day’s work Daisy was glad of anything.

  At first the girls were billeted in private homes, but after a few days Grace found an abandoned shop which she managed to acquire for their use. Making it habitable was easier said than done but it provided a welcome relief from the back-breaking work at the hospital. They scrubbed floors and cleaned windows, and in a desperate attempt to make their austere surroundings a little more homely they cut pictures from magazines and stuck them on the walls. They slept on camp beds or straw-filled palliasses but even then there was still a shortage of beds. In the morning when the day shift got up, the night nurses would climb in between their still warm blankets and settle down to get some well-earned rest.