The Convalescent Corpse

by Nicola Slade

  He opened his mouth to speak and I shook my head. ‘It’s no use asking me why it works, it’s just something Granny was taught as a girl.’

  At that moment four things happened simultaneously. There was a knock at the back door, a ring at the front door, Addy thundered downstairs and Granny emerged from the dining-room.

  ‘That’ll be Dr Pemberton,’ she said as she issued orders of the day. ‘Addy, let him in and take him to see Miss Evershed. Christabel – ah, I see you’re pre-empting me…’ I wiped my hands on my apron and opened the back door to Niggle who was looking both excited and guilty.

  He had something concealed behind his back. When he spotted Granny, who had left the doctor examining his patient, he beamed and held out his hands, each of which contained a brace of pheasants.

  ‘For you, M’Lady,’ he told her triumphantly.

  She didn’t miss a beat. ‘My goodness, Niggle, thank you. What a treat. Now, will you be a good boy and pluck them for me? Your mum told me how clever you are at doing that and you can sit in the scullery. I’ll bring you a cup of cocoa and a biscuit in a minute.’

  She bustled him out of the kitchen and set him up with an old pillowcase for the feathers.

  ‘Henry? You didn’t see this.’ There was a distinct twinkle in her blue eyes. ‘Roast pheasant for dinner tomorrow, Christy. I know the birds ought to be hung but we’ll have to do without in case someone from the Hall sees them and makes a fuss.’

  There was an excited howling from the dog who had scented the birds and was leaping up and down outside the back door. Granny sighed.

  ‘That’ll have to stop,’ she said, glancing at the kitchen clock. ‘I’ll get on with the potatoes and see to the doctor though he’ll have nothing worth telling us that I don’t already know. Alix can do anything that Judith needs. After that, Addy can sit with her and Alix can help me. Christy, you and Henry had better take Bobs out for a walk to take his mind off the pheasants. Make sure you take him away from the Hall. I don’t want Matron marching down here full of righteous indignation if she catches him rampaging around the garden up there.’

  ‘Let’s walk over the bridge and along the river as far as the tannery,’ I said when Henry and I set off down the road. ‘We can come back along the hills and give Bobs a really good run.’

  Henry was walking much better with his stick even though he had only been at the Hall for just over a week and he insisted he could manage the hills. We passed the station and walked briskly along the side of the river, speculating about Niggle and those four pheasants.

  ‘He’s helped Granny a lot,’ I said. ‘She has traps and snares all over the park but we don’t like helping her so she’s very fond of Niggle.’ I shrugged. ‘I’m not squeamish but somehow I simply can’t set the traps. We’re frightful hypocrites, of course, because we’ll happily cook and eat the pheasants and rabbits she catches. I expect Alix will sort out the feathers; plenty of good long tail ones there to trim hats. We’ve tried to collect chicken feathers to make pillows and cushions in the past, but it’s a horrible job and difficult to dry them properly. Last time Alix had a go she wasn’t thorough enough and the house stank for days.’

  ‘You lead such adventurous lives,’ he smiled and changed the subject. ‘I’m glad Miss Evershed is going to be all right. Will she stay here, do you think? If she can’t teach for the whole of the summer.’

  ‘Granny and I certainly hope so,’ I answered absently. ‘For Addy’s sake if not for anything else. Henry…’ I stopped changed the subject abruptly and he came to a halt.

  ‘No, let’s carry on, we can go up the lane here and get up to the top of Puss Hill. That’s an old name for a hare. It’s March, after all, so we might be lucky enough to see some. Besides, there’s a wonderful view, if you’re sure it won’t be too much for your leg.’

  I hesitated as we walked on, and then blurted it out. ‘I’ve been wondering – worrying really…’

  ‘I’ve noticed,’ he looked concerned. ‘About Miss Evershed?’

  ‘That’s part of it, of course, but… Henry, I trust you and I know you won’t mention it to anyone, but some of this is very secret.’

  He took my hand and we hauled each other up the steep climb.

  ‘I’m honoured you should trust me, Christy. How can I help?’

  ‘It’s nonsense, I’m sure, but it’s in my head and I can’t dislodge it. I’ve only mentioned it to Alix and she thinks I’m being silly.’ I wondered, yet again, whether Alix could be right, but I persevered.

  ‘You remember at the At Home on Thursday, Henry, when Judith kept trying to talk to Capt Halliday about her time in Germany before the War, and he looked uncomfortable?’

  He was puzzled. ‘Of course. She’s a nice woman but she does go on. What about it?’

  ‘Matron supposed he was upset because of what he’d suffered at the hands of the enemy.’ I spelled it out slowly. ‘But – what if it’s not that at all. Nobody knows anything about him and he never speaks… What I was wondering is that perhaps he’s silent because he has some kind of accent. Do you think it’s possible he might be a German spy?’

  Chapter Eleven

  ‘What?’ He stared at me in astonishment.

  ‘You’re right to look at me like that.’ I shook my head. ‘Alix thinks it’s a mad idea, and so do I, really, but listen, Henry. Capt Halliday was perfectly calm at first when Judith was talking about all sorts of things. He could easily have got up and moved elsewhere. Everyone knows he’s shell-shocked and it wouldn’t have seemed rude, but he didn’t go. He let her chatter on at him and it was only when she started talking about the year she spent as a teacher in Germany that he showed signs of distress.’

  ‘She talked about Cambridge too, didn’t she? Are you suggesting he took exception to that? Surely it was just as Matron suggested?’ Henry’s forehead puckered. ‘We’re human wreckage, Christy, and while we may come to forgiveness in time, I doubt there’s more than one in a thousand who feels kindly at present. Or to our own top brass. Love thy Neighbour is hard enough at the best of times, let alone Love thine Enemy. Some are more bitter than most; it’s human nature.’

  ‘I know.’ I turned to look down over the river snaking through the valley. ‘That’s why I said it’s nonsense, but you’d gone to fetch a cup of tea, so you didn’t see how he shrank away from her when she started to enthuse about the pretty little town she stayed in.’

  He looked unimpressed but I persevered. ‘It’s not just that, Henry, but don’t you see? Major Larking and Captain Halliday were nowhere to be seen when the alarm went and both of them were probably out in the park.’

  ‘And both available to push Miss Evershed into the ditch?’ There was a twinkle in Henry’s eyes but he made an effort, saying, ‘I’m not laughing, Christy, not really, but you have to admit it’s far-fetched to think anyone attacked her. Surely she simply slipped and fell off the bridge? Besides, if you really must play detective, you’re missing someone else. Matron had words with your Mrs Mortimer just before the fire alarm yesterday, about her son’s poor progress, and then swept out in a crackle of starch and umbrage before Mrs Mortimer could do more than splutter.’

  Matron? I ignored Henry’s amusement and remembered Alix’s angry outburst at Matron’s callous and unfeeling comment about poor Lt Trevelyan “making the place untidy”. I could imagine our redoubtable lodger’s reaction to a similar remark and if it had been Matron who was found at the bottom of a ditch, I don’t think we’d have had to look far for a suspect.

  We sat in silence on a fallen log while the dog rushed around investigating interesting smells by the sheep fence. Henry thought over what I’d said, then, as he opened his mouth to speak, a hare pranced across the short turf only yards away. We held our breath but it spotted us, gave a great leap and dashed for cover, followed at speed by the hopeful dog.

  ‘I hope Bobs doesn’t catch it,’ Henry breathed. ‘I’ve hardly ever seen a hare except dead ones hanging up outside a butcher’s
shop.’

  I reassured him. Bobs is fast but no match for a hare. After a few more minutes, Henry frowned again. ‘I can’t think that you’re right, Christy. Most of the chaps hate what the war has done to us but Halliday has never shown any greater distress than anyone else. As you know, he doesn’t speak, but the chaps who were with him at Netley say he seems brighter here. He certainly doesn’t sit about by himself so much; in fact I’ve seen him sitting with the others – not joining in, of course, but not hanging back.’

  ‘Did he show any interest in Lt Trevelyan?’ I was following a very twisty turn of thought. ‘He was clearly shocked when that poor boy started shouting insults at him.’

  ‘And decided to kill him for it?’ Henry said irritably. ‘I told you, Christabel, I don’t know what I heard that night or even if there was anything to hear. You can’t use me as a witness for the prosecution.’

  ‘You’re thinking like a lawyer already,’ I teased, and he responded with a smile.

  ‘Just as well, isn’t it?’ His irritation had fled. ‘Halliday hangs about Major Larking’s group, God knows why. I keep well away from them, as far as it’s polite, they’re not my type. Besides, going back to what you first said, if Halliday did happen to be a spy, what on earth could he spy on in a place like Groom Hall? There are no state secrets there, apart from the book Major Larking’s running on what date the doctor’s false teeth will finally fall out.’

  ‘There’s the horse battery outside town,’ I suggested, feeling foolish. ‘According to Alix, Dr Pemberton likes you all to go out and about when you feel up to it, to acclimatise you to civilian life.’

  Henry looked at his wristwatch. ‘We should get back. Dr Pemberton will be gone and it’s nearly time for lunch. I’m sorry, Christy, I think you’re barking up the wrong tree, Halliday’s not an isolated case, you know. There are thousands like him, alive but with no idea who they are, and I’m sure Miss Evershed will remember sooner or later that she slipped. Anyway, that wasn’t the secret you wanted to tell me, was it? That Halliday might be a spy?’

  I shook my head as we scrambled down the hill towards the station. ‘It’s about Papa,’ I said, and told him about the bearded American and his insistence that our father was still alive.

  ‘How could that be possible?’ Henry was astonished. ‘I can believe there was utter confusion when the survivors of the Lusitania were landed and maybe your father was injured or unconscious, but a father would never abandon his wife and children. It would be dishonourable at the very least. Even my own father wouldn’t have dreamed of doing that. There must be some mistake, unless he lost his memory.’

  I squeezed his hand and smiled at him. ‘Of course it’s dishonourable, but so is – was – our Papa. Alix and I have talked about it and although it is possible he could have lost his memory, we can quite see him deciding it was a way out of all his difficulties. He would certainly have intended to come home at some time in the future, bearing gifts and rolling in riches, that’s his way. We can’t know what happened to him in America before he started for home. He swore he had a chance to make good, which is why he went there in the first place, but Papa was always on to a good thing. Always on the brink of making his fortune and about to set us up in a grand house with fur coats and diamonds and a fleet of motor cars.’

  Henry looked aghast and I grinned at him. ‘Don’t take it to heart. Papa was a rogue but the rest of us are painfully honest! Although we were fond of him it made life so much easier when we thought there was no longer any danger of him disgracing us. That’s why we’re so anxious at the thought that he might be back again.’

  His young face was stern and I realised that he was angry because of us. Dear Henry, so upright and honest and even remembering his tyrannical father he clearly found it difficult to understand, still less to forgive, a man who would so callously abandon his children.

  ‘Would you like me to take a look at the Fishing Lodge?’ he asked abruptly, swishing his stick viciously at a clump of nettles.

  ‘Oh no, please don’t,’ I begged. ‘Alix and I can handle Papa, if he really is lurking up there. We just wonder whether he might have seen how Miss Evershed – Judith – happened to fall. And no, before you say anything, it’s quite impossible that Papa would have struck her.’

  ‘If you say so,’ he said doubtfully as we set off for home.

  ‘Something I forgot to tell you, Christy.’ Henry saw me to our front gate, saying his leg needed more exercise so he would go the long way round to the Hall. ‘It seems Major Peebles is a keen photographer so he’s volunteered to teach me how to develop Addy’s film tomorrow. He had all the equipment sent from home on Monday and has rigged up a dark room in a cupboard, much to Matron’s disapproval. If Addy is going to start photographing ghastly injuries, the chemist’s shop in town might object. It would be useful if one of us could do the developing.’

  His words conjured up a horrid picture of Addy rushing to every traffic accident in town, camera at the ready, and ending up in prison as a public nuisance. I hoped it was just a passing phase. Like the pokerwork that ended with an ugly scorch mark on the dining table, or the time she borrowed a fretsaw to make jigsaws and sell them as Christmas presents at the Vicarage bazaar. That episode ended with blood everywhere and stitches in her thumb.

  After luncheon we scattered to our various Saturday afternoon occupations. Alix put on her blue hat and walked into town to look at the shops while Addy disappeared with some trigonometry problems that Judith had set. Mother alternated between groans and bursts of frantic activity as Lady Esmerelda’s romance came to a head and, as often happened, the characters for the next book insisted on tormenting her with their story which she was unable to begin writing as yet. I set down her soup and a sandwich and turned tail lest she should make me listen to her woes.

  Granny reported that Judith Evershed was going on nicely, so after I’d finished my soup I went to sit with her.

  ‘I’m glad to see you looking so much better,’ I told her warmly. ‘Please don’t overdo it though. It’s early days.’

  ‘I feel quite well,’ she agreed, ‘apart from this persistent throbbing headache.’ She made a face. ‘The good doctor has told me that I’m not to think of going back to teaching until the autumn and what is more, Lady Elspeth – in whom I have far more faith – agrees with him. Addy took letters to the post this morning, one to inform my parents of my misfortune and the other to ask my Headmistress for leave of absence until I am completely recovered. I’ll own that it’s a blow.’

  I murmured sympathetically. ‘Your parents will be anxious to see you,’ I said. ‘We can easily put them up, if they’d like to be close to you.’

  ‘You’re very kind.’ Her sharp features softened. ‘I suspect my father will leave it to my mother and she will probably come just for the day, if at all. She dislikes sick rooms.’

  She rubbed her eyes. ‘I wish I could remember how I came to fall.’

  ‘We tried to take you to the Hall because it was nearest,’ I ventured. ‘But you became quite distressed and insisted you must come here. Do you have any idea why that was?’

  She shook her head. ‘Ouch, I must remember not to do that. I have no idea what I meant, how very odd.’

  I took up my red pencil and started to go through the last chapters of St Chad’s at War as Judith dozed off. We spent a peaceful hour or so like that and I edited and revised my chapters until they were ready for their final typewritten copy. I glanced at the patient but she was sleeping, with a healthier colour and a look of peace on her tired face, so I began to think about my next book, now titled, St Wulfstan’s under Fire. I decided it should feature a Zeppelin raid. (I know nothing of airships but I’m sure I’ll find an officer who will be only too happy to give me far more information than I could possibly need.)

  At that moment Addy thrust an untidy head round the door.

  ‘That horrid Major Larking is walking up the road in our direction. He’s carrying a bunch of flower
s. Shall I let him in if he wants to see Judith?’

  One look at the patient, who had jolted awake, gave us her answer.

  ‘No, it’s nearly tea time, he’d have to stay, but don’t worry, Judith,’ I said hastily. ‘I’ll tell him you’re asleep and then send him next door to Miss Peebles. Addy, I see your book about the Crimea is here, carry on with it but do it quietly. Let Judith sleep if she feels like it.’

  When the front doorbell rang I whipped off my apron and shut the dining-room door behind me.

  ‘Miss… er… Christabel, I believe?’

  ‘Good afternoon, Major Larking. How may I help you? I’m afraid Miss Evershed is sleeping at the moment and cannot be disturbed.’

  ‘Ah, she is still unwell?’ He frowned and I waited. ‘I am sorry to hear that. I was hoping to discover if she knows how she came to fall. Her parents will wish to have details when I write to them. Has she said what happened?’

  ‘I believe she has no recollection of the… accident,’ I said demurely. ‘She will be sorry to have missed you but the doctor was quite definite on the subject of rest and sleep.’

  The frown grew fiercer and he ran a hand through his hair, releasing a waft of the lavender brilliantine he favoured. ‘Er, thank you, Miss… ah… Christabel. If her memory returns, I should like to be informed. Meanwhile, would you be so good as to give her these flowers, with my good wishes?’

  I admired the bouquet and he brightened up. ‘I wonder, do you happen to know whether Miss… er… Peebles is at leisure this afternoon?’

  ‘I believe she is at home,’ I said sweetly. ‘Just ring the bell next door, Major Larking.’

  ‘Who was that?’ Granny was at my elbow. She made a face when I told her.

  ‘Hmm, Judith has missed her chance of marriage to the son of a baron, hasn’t she?’