by Robert Edric
Arriving at the station, Reid saw Caroline Mortimer already waiting there, sitting on a bench beside Benoît.
Benoît rose at Reid’s approach. ‘She was here when I arrived,’ he said. ‘We’ve been talking, but mostly just sitting.’ He turned back to Caroline, bowed, took her hand and kissed it.
‘I’m keeping you from your work,’ she said to him.
Benoît shrugged and said he would return to her soon.
Reid sat beside her.
‘I couldn’t sleep,’ she said. She cupped an ear to listen to the birdsong in the trees beyond the depot. ‘Look,’ she said. She indicated the pots of flowers that Benoît had set out along the platform. Small sprays were fastened to the depot door. ‘I think I surprised him,’ she said. ‘I must have looked like a ghost sitting here in the half-light.’
She wore a pale tan coat, white gloves and a hat with voile folded over its rim.
Reid himself had put on his smartest uniform, and had polished its buttons and belt and straps.
‘Have you heard if the cemetery suffered at all in the storm?’ she asked him.
‘Not so far.’
Drake and his men would inspect the site before coming to the station, and any work which needed doing would be completed before the arrival there of the cortège.
‘The place is still full of newspapermen,’ she said. ‘Some were already up and about as I made my way here.’
Reid had passed several of the men on his own short journey to the station.
He took out a cigarette and offered her one, which she accepted.
‘I daresay Guthrie will be coming with Wheeler and the others on the train,’ he said. Unusually, he felt awkward, constrained, in her company. The day ahead weighed on them both.
He looked along the track. A faint vapour rose from the warming gravel and the sleepers.
‘What will happen afterwards, I wonder?’ Caroline said.
‘Afterwards?’ For a moment, he was uncertain what she was asking him.
‘After the ceremony,’ she said. ‘Will Colonel Wheeler come back here, to Morlancourt, do you think, or return immediately to Amiens?’
But Reid, too, had little clear idea of the day’s proceedings beyond what was about to happen at the station. ‘I daresay everything will become apparent,’ he said. ‘The day will run its course and we’ll all play our own small parts within it.’
‘Of course,’ she said.
Several minutes later, a convoy of lorries and cars drew up on the lane beyond Benoît’s office, and a group of Reid’s men climbed down and congregated there.
‘I ought to go to them,’ Reid said, rising.
‘Of course.’
It seemed to him she was relieved to be left alone.
He met Drake coming through the empty depot and saw that he too had cleaned up his uniform. The men beyond him were also in full dress.
‘They made the effort,’ Drake said.
‘Meaning you gave the order. I appreciate it.’
‘I went to the cemetery,’ Drake said.
‘And?’
‘The stream overflowed and the holes along the perimeter have filled up again.’
‘And the nurses’ graves?’
‘They’re fine. The boys from Saint-Quentin have been brushing everything dry. The marquee and seating are fine.’
It was a relief to Reid to hear this. He told Drake to go back to the men and to turn the lorries in readiness for the journey to the cemetery.
‘We’ve got three new cars from Amiens,’ Drake said. ‘Arrived a couple of hours ago. For the dignitaries and Commission members.’
It was something Reid had not considered. ‘Tell the drivers to go slowly,’ he said. ‘I’ll go on ahead in the first lorry, set the pace.’
Drake went back to the waiting men and Reid returned to the platform and Caroline.
Shortly before the train was due, Benoît came back out to them and said that there had been a delay, but the engine would be there in fifteen minutes. He stood beside them for a while before being called away.
‘I appreciate the flowers,’ Caroline said to him as he went.
Benoît looked at the pots and the door. ‘It’s little enough,’ he said. ‘Considering.’ He walked briskly back to his office.
‘They’re closing the station in a few months,’ Reid told her.
‘I heard. I daresay a great deal will change.’
Reid had not yet approached Wheeler with the suggestion that Benoît be put in charge of the upkeep of the finished cemetery.
‘I don’t suppose …’ Caroline said hesitantly.
‘Alexander Lucas? No, nothing.’
‘Perhaps Colonel Wheeler will have some news.’
‘If he does, it won’t be good.’
‘No.’ After a pause, she said, ‘One of the newspapermen I spoke to referred to the cost of all this gravedigging and memorial-building as a “butcher’s bill to the nation”.’
Reid had heard the remark before. He listened to the sound of the lorries being turned in the narrow lane.
‘And you?’ Caroline asked him.
‘Me, what?’ He knew exactly what she was asking him.
‘After today. After Morlancourt.’
‘Wherever I’m sent, I suppose.’ He’d already told her about Wheeler’s proposal concerning his future posting. ‘You?’
‘Home, I imagine,’ she said. ‘A few more days here while arrangements are made. I shall want to come back and say a proper farewell to my women. Alone. After that …’
Reid was about to say more when they finally heard the whistle of the delayed train, signifying that it had arrived at the canal halt. They both rose at the sound and went to the platform’s edge. Benoît reappeared from his office, followed by his two employees. The three men all wore flowers in their lapels.
Drake came back to Reid and said everything was ready. Reid told him to form the men into lines and to await further instructions.
A group of local people, including Benoît’s wife, gathered at the station gates to pay their respects.
After them came the journalists and the photographers, most of the men gathering at the waiting vehicles. Others, Reid guessed, would already be making their way to the cemetery to follow the proceedings there.
The train appeared a moment later, attracting everyone’s attention and causing them all to fall silent.
Back in Morlancourt, the church bell started its slow and measured tolling, suggesting to Reid that someone there had also been waiting for the signal of the whistle.
The train came slowly forward and stopped at its usual place.
The driver and Ernaux climbed down from the cab and went to stand beside Benoît. They, too, wore flowers in their lapels.
Further along the train, several doors opened and other men climbed out. Among the first of these were Wheeler, Jessop and Guthrie. They stood together for a moment, and then Wheeler, seeing Reid and Caroline further along the platform, said something to Jessop, who came towards them.
Jonathan Guthrie started to come with him, but Jessop said something to the man and Guthrie turned back and made his way to the solitary goods carriage at the rear of the train.
Jessop took off his cap and held out his hand to Caroline.
‘Perhaps you might like to go to your nurses,’ he said. He motioned to where Guthrie now stood. ‘Don’t worry, nothing will commence until Colonel Wheeler gives the word.’ He looked through the depot to Drake and the waiting men. ‘Perhaps I might have a word with Captain Reid?’
‘Of course.’
Caroline left them and walked slowly along the platform. The men and women who now filled it fell silent at her approach and then stood aside as she continued towards the waiting carriage.
‘The cemetery?’ Jessop said, hardly looking at Reid.
‘Everything’s fine and waiting.’
‘Good.’ And then, without warning, Jessop clasped Reid’s arm and turned him away from the train.
‘You’ll be relieved to hear that Lieutenant Lucas has finally revealed himself. In Boulogne. He’s being detained at the provost’s office there.’
‘Detained?’
Jessop smiled at the word. ‘I’m afraid so. He was travelling without authority. As well you knew. I’m surprised you hadn’t already heard. The deputy provost called Wheeler last night.’
‘How would I have heard?’ Reid said.
‘Of course. How would you?’ Jessop looked back along the platform to where Wheeler stood in conversation with men Reid had never seen before, several of whom wore dress coats and top hats. After a moment, Wheeler looked towards them and Jessop quickly raised his hand.
‘Your signal,’ Reid said, pulling himself free of the man.
‘What are you talking about?’ Jessop said.
‘He sent you to ascertain that everything was ready and that I, at least, was still here and doing his bidding.’
‘He’s your superior officer, for God’s sake, man. What bidding?’
‘What will happen to him? Lucas.’
Jessop shrugged. ‘Out of my hands, I’m afraid. Out of all our hands.’
‘Meaning Wheeler’s already washed his hands of him.’
‘Meaning the best thing for all concerned would be to let others – the men responsible for these things – deal with the whole affair. The Commission itself certainly doesn’t want any—’ He stopped abruptly. ‘Besides, I imagine Lieutenant Lucas might consider himself to have somewhat more pressing concerns at present.’
‘Meaning?’ Reid said, suspicious of what Jessop was suggesting. ‘His daughter, you mean?’ He braced himself for Jessop’s answer, but Jessop seemed confused by the remark.
‘Meaning,’ Jessop said, ‘that upon being challenged by the port authorities, Lieutenant Lucas suffered some kind of seizure, a kind of fit. The provost’s office sent for a doctor. Don’t worry, Lucas is fine. The doctor said it was probably caused by nervous excitement, agitation. You know the thing.’
‘And now?’
‘Lucas? In the hospital there, being well taken care of.’
‘Sedated, you mean?’
Jessop held up his hands and smiled. ‘I’m not a medical man, God forbid. Besides,’ – he looked back to Wheeler and the gathering crowd – ‘this is neither the time nor the place. Sharpen up and do your duty, Reid. Just do your damn duty.’ Then Jessop took several paces away from Reid and looked all around him. ‘It looks a good show,’ he said. ‘For the women, I mean, the nurses.’
‘People appreciate being able to do it,’ Reid said.
‘I’m sure they do,’ Jessop said, looking back to Wheeler and his invited dignitaries. ‘And all to great advantage, of course.’ He looked at the journalists and photographers gathered beside the waiting soldiers, making his meaning clear. ‘Necessary evils, I suppose.’
Reid gave no answer because none was expected of him. In Jessop’s eyes – as in Wheeler’s – he too had already ceased to exist.
Wheeler finally detached himself from the growing crowd and came to them.
‘Right, good, well, shall we begin?’ he said, holding out his hand to Reid. ‘Shall we get the proceedings underway?’ He put on his cap, tugged at the knot in his tie, clapped his gloved hands together once and then walked quickly back along the platform towards Caroline, Guthrie and all the others.
Jessop walked even more quickly to catch up with him.
Reid remained where he stood for a moment and then followed them towards the waiting carriage, exchanging nods and words with the few people he knew.
Seeing that the first of the day’s ceremonies was about to begin, all those on the platform again fell silent.
Wheeler called for everyone’s attention and delivered a short speech outlining the day’s running order. He then beckoned to Jonathan Guthrie, who came to stand beside him.
Guthrie paused for a few seconds and then bowed his head and said a prayer. Most on the platform copied him. Only the voices of the nearby newspapermen broke the quiet of the occasion.
When Guthrie had finished, he nodded to Wheeler, who indicated for the door of the waiting carriage to be unlocked.
Reid moved closer to the train and signalled for Drake and his own men to come forward.
Caroline Mortimer, Reid saw, kept her head down and her eyes closed as the carriage door was fully opened and its contents revealed to her.
The coffins had been set out in a single layer, and laid upon most of them was a simple bunch of tied white flowers. Other blooms lay scattered on the carriage floor, where they had fallen during the journey.
Reid continued walking until he stood beside Caroline, who finally raised her head and opened her eyes, letting out an involuntary gasp at finding herself suddenly so close to the coffins. She seemed to sag slightly before steadying and composing herself. Reid held a palm to her back and then briefly took her hand into his own.
About the Author
Robert Edric was born in 1956. His novels include Winter Garden (James Tait Black Prize winner 1986), A New Ice Age (runner-up for the Guardian Fiction Prize 1986), The Book of the Heathen (winner of the WH Smith Literary Award 2000), Peacetime (longlisted for the Booker Prize 2002), Gathering the Water (longlisted for the Booker Prize 2006) and In Zodiac Light (shortlisted for the Dublin Impac Prize 2010). His most recent novel is Sanctuary. He lives in Yorkshire.
Also by Robert Edric
WINTER GARDEN
A NEW ICE AGE
A LUNAR ECLIPSE
IN THE DAYS OF THE AMERICAN MUSEUM
THE BROKEN LANDS
HALLOWED GROUND
THE EARTH MADE OF GLASS
ELYSIUM
IN DESOLATE HEAVEN
THE SWORD CABINET
THE BOOK OF THE HEATHEN
PEACETIME
GATHERING THE WATER
THE KINGDOM OF ASHES
IN ZODIAC LIGHT
SALVAGE
THE LONDON SATYR
THE DEVIL’S BEAT
THE MONSTER’S LAMENT
SANCTUARY
CRADLE SONG
SIREN SONG
SWAN SONG
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Transworld is part of the Penguin Random House group of companies whose addresses can be found at global.penguinrandomhouse.com
First published in Great Britain in 2015 by Doubleday
an imprint of Transworld Publishers
Copyright © Robert Edric 2015
Robert Edric has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.
This book is a work of fiction and, except in the case of historical fact, any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, is purely coincidental.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
Version 1.0 Epub ISBN 9781473510357
ISBNs 9780857522894 (hb)
9780857522900 (tpb)
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