Ghost Soldier

by Theresa Breslin

  Millie hugged him. Rob was glad his face was already red from his exertions so that she didn’t see him blush.

  ‘We’ve still our chores to do,’ he said. ‘Let’s settle the puppy down and go home. We’ll visit him in the morning and after school to feed and exercise him and change his water.’

  Millie spread straw on the floor of the cage and put the puppy inside. ‘Be a good doggie.’ She patted him on the head. ‘I’ll come back and see you soon.’

  ‘You mustn’t tell anyone about this,’ Rob told her. ‘Especially not Pearl and Daisy. They might let it slip to Jed, and if he found out he’d make trouble for us.’

  ‘When do you think we can bring him home?’ Millie asked.

  ‘It might not be until the war is finished.’

  ‘When will that be, Rob?’ Millie looked at her brother with trusting eyes.

  He bent his head to avoid her gaze as he repacked his haversack. His sister was too young for him to tell her the truth. But he didn’t want to become one of the people who were telling lies about the war.

  ‘Umm . . .’ He searched in his mind for what he could say. ‘Maybe we can take him home before the end of the war. Maybe we can say that we found a lost pup in the woods. His colouring is different from Nell’s other pups, so people might not suspect he belongs to her. He’s got shades of dun in his coat.’

  ‘Oh, so he has!’ Rather than being upset that her puppy wasn’t purely black and white, Millie was pleased that he was unique. ‘He’s got patches of light brown – like the beaches at Gullane where we made sandcastles that summer.’

  ‘Yes, like Gullane sands,’ Rob agreed. One July day, the month before war broke out, Dad had borrowed Farmer Gordon’s horse and cart and they’d gone to the seaside for a treat. Gullane had a long stretch of beach with a vast expanse of golden sand and clumps of grass to shelter in. After that, every night for the whole of the summer holidays, Mum had read Treasure Island because Gullane was where Robert Louis Stevenson visited as a child. Rob had played make-believe among the miles of sand dunes, imagining boxes of buried gold and pirate ships sailing in from the sea. Dad had told them that Robert Louis Stevenson had made up his story from his childhood memories.

  ‘The summer before Daddy went away,’ said Millie.

  Two years ago, and yet she remembered.

  ‘Sandy!’ Millie exclaimed. ‘That will be my doggie’s name! Sandy. Do you like that name, little puppy?’

  The pup snuffled happily and licked her hand.

  ‘He does like it,’ she declared.

  ‘Sandy it is, then,’ said Rob.

  ‘It’ll not be for too long, anyway,’ Millie assured her puppy as she settled him in the straw. ‘Daddy said that the war would soon be over.’

  Rob didn’t say anything as he propped a heavy piece of wood up against the door so that no wild animal could get into the shed to harm the pup. From what he had seen while running through the train yesterday he thought that the war was going to last a whole lot longer than any of them had thought.

  As they retraced their steps across the lawn, Millie tried to avoid looking at the house. ‘It’s creepy when it’s getting dark. The windows are like big eyes staring at me.’

  ‘Well, I’m here,’ said Rob, ‘so there’s no need to be scared.’ He tried not to dwell on it, but the fading light did make the house and garden a spooky place.

  As he helped Millie over the wall, Rob couldn’t resist taking a final glance back at the house.

  Again – from the end attic window . . . a flash of white.

  Rob’s breath caught in his throat. Then he laughed at himself. It would be a gull nesting on the windowsill. Not a ghost.

  There were no such things as ghosts.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  THE VERY NEXT afternoon the Army Procurement Officer came to the cottage.

  Rob and Millie had coaxed their mother out of her room to sit down at the table and drink some tea, when there was a rap on the door. Before Rob could answer it, the door opened and a man in the uniform of an army major stood there.

  ‘Please, no!’ Rob’s mother let out a scream.

  ‘Calm yourself, woman,’ the man said. ‘There’s nothing to be alarmed about.’

  ‘Are you bringing me bad news?’

  ‘No, I have not come for that purpose,’ the major said. ‘I want to speak to the man of the house.’

  ‘My father is enlisted in the army,’ Rob told him.

  ‘I’m glad to hear that,’ the major replied. ‘My business here with you is to collect some collie pups.’ He held out an envelope to Rob’s mother.

  ‘What?’ She stood up, leaning on the table.

  When she didn’t make any move to take the envelope from him, the officer said impatiently, ‘This contains my authorization and a slip for you to fill in. You’ll be able to collect your compensation money at the post office.’

  Rob’s mother crossed to the range and sat down in the big chair where his father used to sit. She turned her face away and stared into the fire.

  The major put the envelope on the kitchen table. ‘It’s there for you when you’re ready to deal with it. Now’ – he addressed Rob – ‘where are these pups?’

  ‘I’ll bring them to you,’ Rob offered.

  ‘Me too,’ said Millie. ‘I’m really good at helping.’

  ‘Just do as you’ve been asked and show me where they are,’ the major said. ‘I’ve got a proper transportation basket for them and they need to be labelled before being packed up.’

  Rob glanced at his mother. ‘Millie and I are going to take this officer to get Nell’s pups. Best if you sit where you are,’ he said distinctly. ‘I’ll leave Nell with you.’ He didn’t even have to give his dog the order. Nell went to the big chair and put her head on his mother’s lap.

  ‘Tidy little place you have here,’ the major commented as they went out of the cottage. ‘Is your father fighting in France?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Rob. He didn’t like this man, and decided he wouldn’t tell him about the War Office telegram. But it was possible that he knew the movements of his father’s regiment, so Rob made an effort to sound friendly. ‘My father is in the Border Guards. Have you ever fought beside them?’

  ‘I’ve never met anyone from the Guards. As a rule I don’t see regimental soldiers.’

  ‘What soldiers do you see?’ Millie took her lead from Rob and forced a smile.

  ‘Actually, I’m awaiting my posting for active service. At the present I’m based in Britain. Training dogs – that’s what I do.’

  Rob’s heart was beating very fast as he led the major to the outhouse. Millie stayed close by him. They stood at the door while the officer went inside.

  ‘You should be proud that your dog’s pups have been chosen to help the war effort,’ the major told them. ‘Communications are vital in a war. Field telephone cables get damaged during bombardment, so information and messages from HQ don’t reach front-line commanders. Then soldiers die who might have lived. Dogs can move over terrain where it’s impossible for vehicles and horses to travel. A human runner struggling through mud is an easy target for enemy fire. It’s harder for the snipers to hit a dog because a well-trained animal is much swifter than a man.’

  ‘I know,’ said Rob, thinking of the streak of black and white that was Nell racing ahead of him and his father when corralling the sheep.

  ‘There’s a fine dog-training school here in Scotland. That’s where your pups will be sent. Don’t you want to say goodbye to them?’ asked the major.

  Millie tightened her grip on Rob’s fingers. ‘No,’ Rob said. ‘Thank you.’

  The officer lifted every pup individually, examined it, and made notes in a notebook. Then he tagged each one, put a collar round its neck and placed it in a closed basket with wire windows. When he’d finished he counted them, looked at his papers, and counted them again.

  ‘I’ve come to the right place, haven’t I?’ he asked. ‘The family name is Gowri
e, of End Cottage, Glendale village?’

  ‘Yes,’ Rob said. ‘That’s us.’

  ‘There’s five puppies listed. I’ve only got four here.’

  ‘One died.’ Rob tried to face the man as he told the lie.

  ‘One died?’ The major’s eyes narrowed. ‘When did it die?’

  ‘The other day.’

  ‘The other day?’

  Rob nodded. His face twitched. He could feel his resolve dwindling. Telling someone a direct lie was harder than he thought it would be.

  ‘Would that be after the county vet came by?’

  ‘Yes.’ Rob’s voice wavered.

  ‘What caused the dog to die?’

  Rob felt Millie’s nails dig into his arm. For her sake he made his voice stronger. ‘I don’t know. He just died.’

  ‘I see.’ The major swung round and headed back towards the cottage. ‘I want to speak to your mother. Will she still be in your house?’

  Rob shrugged. It was likely that his mother had gone to lie down on her bed. She’d been doing that a lot since the telegram arrived.

  ‘Mrs Gowrie!’ the officer called out.

  To Rob’s surprise, his mother came from behind the cottage. She hadn’t pegged out a washing for weeks. Whatever clothing or sheets she managed to do was left lying in bundles for Rob or Millie to hang up.

  ‘Mrs Gowrie,’ the major said briskly, ‘the boy is telling me that one of the pups has died. Is this true?’

  ‘Did Rob say it?’

  ‘Yes, but I am asking you . . .’

  She put her hand on her son’s shoulder. ‘My son has been brought up honestly,’ she said. ‘I trust him to do what’s right.’

  ‘I hope for your sake that this is what has actually happened. Disobeying army orders is treason, you know,’ the major said in a hectoring tone.

  ‘Come with me.’ Rob’s mother led the way to their back garden. She pointed to a mound of earth beside the drying green. ‘This is where the children buried their puppy.’

  The major knelt down. He examined the newly dug earth and the wooden cross: Rob had burned the name Sandy onto it with a red-hot poker. Below the cross was a jam jar filled with fresh flowers.

  ‘Was this the puppy the vet described as having a dun-coloured marking on one ear?’ he asked.

  Millie burst into tears. ‘Sandy was to be my dog,’ she sobbed.

  ‘Oh! Oh, all right, then,’ the major stumbled. ‘There’s no need to take on so.’

  Millie snivelled and wiped her nose on her sleeve. ‘Sandy’s gone away and I don’t have a puppy dog.’

  Rob spoke up. ‘I gave him to her because he was the smallest puppy, quite poorly.’

  ‘Ah, the runt!’ the major said. ‘Runts often die. The mother dog rejects them and won’t allow them to feed from her.’

  Rob clenched his jaw. How dare this man suggest that Nell would treat one of her young like that! She’d given that pup special attention. Obviously she’d been shut up in the house by his mother, otherwise this man would see how his dog would react to having her pups taken away.

  The major put out his hand and patted Millie on the head. ‘There, there. Don’t fret. The dam will have more pups one day, I’m sure.’

  ‘But I want a puppy now.’ Millie put her hands over her face and began to cry in earnest.

  ‘I’ll be on my way.’ The major hurriedly picked up the basket and marched off down the lane to where his truck was parked.

  Millie spread her fingers and watched him go.

  ‘Good for you, Millie, pretending to cry at the right moment,’ Rob said when the major had gone and his mother was back inside their cottage. ‘I didn’t realize you could turn on tears like that. You could be an actress on the stage when you grow up.’

  ‘I wasn’t pretending,’ Millie said. ‘I was crying ’cos I thought he was going to dig up the earth and open the box with the big stone in it.’

  ‘Ssshhhh!’ Rob put his finger to his lips. ‘No one must know. You understand? Not even Mummy.’

  Millie nodded.

  ‘And it was clever of you to put the jar of flowers on the grave. That made it more convincing.’

  ‘It wasn’t me who put the flowers there,’ said Millie. ‘I thought it was you.’

  In the kitchen Rob’s mother was listlessly stirring soup in a pot on the range. Rob looked at her. She had grown thin, and was barely able to concentrate on one thing at a time. Yet . . . if Millie hadn’t put the flowers on the grave and he hadn’t done it, that left only one other person in the house.

  Rob noticed the bundle of wet clothes lying in the tub by the mangle. There had been no clothes on the washing lines outside, yet his mother had been in the back garden. So it must have been her who’d cut flowers for the jam jar. Rob felt a pang of guilt: his mother believed that the puppy had died. Had it made her think that perhaps Dad too was dead? And, having no grave to stand beside to mourn him, had she decided to place flowers there in his memory?

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  ROB WAITED UNTIL it was almost dark before going to visit Sandy at Mill House.

  He told his mother that he would check on the hens and the other livestock. After a minute or so he went back into the cottage to say that one of the hens must have got out.

  ‘I’ll take Nell and Millie with me and we’ll look for it,’ he said. ‘We might be gone for a bit. Maybe as far as the woods. We don’t want a fox getting her.’

  His mother was washing up the dishes at the sink. She nodded vaguely.

  Rob picked up the storm lantern, and he and his sister ran as fast as they could towards the hills.

  ‘We won’t stay long,’ Rob told Millie. He guessed that by this time the Army Procurement Officer would be well out of their area. But even though he was sure they had fooled the major into believing one of Nell’s pups had died, Rob was apprehensive. Supposing he found out they’d lied to him? There would be the most almighty row. He must make sure the puppy stayed well hidden.

  Millie shivered as they entered the wood. ‘There are faces on the tree trunks,’ she said. ‘The wood sprites are watching us.’

  ‘Nobody’s watching us,’ Rob said with more certainty than he felt. ‘Wood sprites don’t exist.’

  ‘Yes they do,’ Millie said. ‘But that’s all right, ’cos wood sprites are benign creatures and will guard us on our way.’

  ‘You’re in the village post office far too often listening to Mrs Shelby’s stories.’

  ‘You do it too, Rob,’ Millie accused him. ‘Ever since the telegram arrived you make excuses to go in to hear what Mrs Shelby’s saying about the war.’

  ‘She always reads bits out of the newspapers,’ said Rob. ‘I’m hoping one day she’ll mention the Border Guards. It was useful to be there last week, otherwise I wouldn’t have known about the hospital trains. That’s what made me ask Kenneth about them. Then he asked his dad, who told him the day and the time it was due to pass this way. Now we’ve got Nurse Evans helping us too.’

  They walked for another minute before Millie spoke. ‘But if Nurse Evans does find Daddy on one of the hospital trains, then . . .’ She paused. ‘Rob, the soldiers on the hospital trains are very, very sick.’

  ‘We’d know where he was, though, and even if he’s wounded, he’d be able to write to us again.’

  ‘Supposing he’s lost an arm and can’t write?’

  ‘Someone would do it for him, like Nurse Evans or Bert, or maybe even Captain Morrison.’

  ‘But not Chesney,’ Millie said.

  ‘Definitely not Chesney,’ Rob agreed. He mimicked Chesney shouting at him. ‘You! Farm boy. Out of here. At once!’

  Millie giggled. There was a silence, and then she said, ‘But supposing Daddy got a bump on the head and doesn’t remember his address? Supposing he doesn’t remember who he is?’

  ‘They’ll know which regiment he’s from by his uniform and his cap badge.’

  ‘Supposing his cap came off and got lost?’

  ‘A
ll soldiers wear a tag around their neck which identifies them.’

  ‘But supposing—’

  ‘Millie!’

  His sister lapsed into silence. Then her hand crept into his. Rob looked down at her curly head bobbing along beside him. ‘He’ll be all right,’ he reassured her. ‘Really, Millie, we’ll just have to wait it out. Dad will come home. And I’ve thought of another way to get more information. I’m going to go to the Otterby farm to ask which hospital Jack’s been sent to. When we know that, we can go and visit him and take Nell with us. Jack likes Nell, and he might be able to talk more when she’s there and tell us what happened to the regiment.’

  ‘You always have good plans, Rob,’ Millie said. ‘It was clever of you to pretend my puppy had died and then think of hiding him here. I’m lucky to have a big brother like you. I feel sorry for Pearl and Daisy. They’ve got Jed for a big brother, and he isn’t nice at all.’

  They reached Mill House and went down the path towards the potting shed. Nell stopped at the entrance to the tunnel through the thorn bushes and gave a short sharp bark.

  ‘Quiet,’ Rob said. ‘I know you’re excited to see your pup, but we need you to be quiet.’ They were far enough away from Glebe Farm not to be heard, but there might be poachers in the woods looking for a rabbit or even a deer.

  Millie pushed on eagerly. Stepping over a piece of wood, she opened the door and went in. Rob lit the lamp as Millie took Sandy out of his cage. Nell began licking her pup and pushing him with her nose. Rob let Millie feed him some leftovers they’d sneaked from their kitchen while he gathered up the old straw and soiled wood shavings.

  ‘What was that?’ said Millie, turning round.

  ‘What?’ Rob was putting down fresh straw and changing the water in the dish.

  Millie was looking towards the door.