“Won’t you miss home?”
Will shrugged. “I’ll be fine. I’ll be back for holidays.”
Archie felt glad it was Will, not him. He couldn’t have left home so easily.
“It’ll just be me and the lasses at home now,” he said. “It’s better with you.”
“You’ll be all right,” said Will. “You can leave school. You’ll be a real gardener.”
Ma didn’t want Will to go, and had some sharp words to say about the war that had caused it. He was too young, she insisted, he was needed at home, Archie shouldn’t be leaving school yet. But Lady Dunkeld always got what she wanted, and next time Lady Hazelgrove went to Kent, Will and his trunk went with them. Will was restless with excitement.
“I’ll go in a car to the station!” he said. “Then on a train! And Lady Dunkeld’s chauffeur’s going to pick us up and take us to her house!”
“It’s not just Lady Dunkeld that’s short of staff,” remarked Dad drily. “There’s men leaving here all the time to join up. Bertenshaw can just do some real work for a change.”
When Will had gone two of Dad’s assistants joined the army, saying that at least it would be warmer in France. It would be a grim winter. Archie cleaned pots and filled seed trays when his fingers were clumsy with cold, and dark came early. He began another series of chalk marks on the potting shed wall. Bertenshaw, complaining of his bad back and his cough, found fault with everything Archie did. He trudged round with his big shovel-shaped head huddled into his shoulders.
Archie learned to keep out of Bertenshaw’s way as much as he could, but there were times when they had to work together preparing vegetable beds. One chilly winter afternoon when Archie was sick of the sight of the vegetable bed, the light was fading and it was almost time to go home and get warm, Star trotted to the garden gate, stood on his hind legs, and pushed it open.
“Hello, you!” said Archie. Star turning up was the best thing that had happened all afternoon.
“You left that gate unlocked,” growled Bertenshaw. Archie knew that it was Bertenshaw’s mistake, not his, but it was no use saying so. He left his spade in the ground and went to greet Star, who trotted to meet him.
Something flew through the air past him. A stone crashed on to the path where Star had just been.
“What are you doing?” Archie dashed to Star, bundled up the dog in his arms, and turned to yell at Bertenshaw. “Don’t you ever do that! Don’t ever throw stones at a dog!”
Bertenshaw strode towards them. Archie stood his ground, but he held Star, who was growling, more closely.
“And don’t you raise your voice to me, you insolent brat!” he ordered. “If you weren’t the boss’s son you’d be out of a job for that!” As Archie turned away, he yelled, “and don’t you turn your back on me!”
“I’m taking the dog back to the Hall,” said Archie, carrying Star out of the garden.
“Going to tell tales to Her Ladyship, then?” snarled Bertenshaw.
But Archie didn’t tell anyone about it. He just made sure to check gates after that, and tried to ignore Bertenshaw. Most people did. Even Bertenshaw’s own two sons ignored him. They didn’t live with him, and never wrote. Long ago, Mrs Bertenshaw had run away back to her mother, taking the two boys with her to save them from his fists. None of them ever came to see him.
Will wrote occasionally, saying how much further on the gardens were in Kent. Everything seemed to grow two weeks earlier, he said. At Ashlings, Flora had colds all winter. Ma and Jenn knitted scarves and mitts for soldiers.
When snow fell Archie and Jenn had a snowball fight but it wasn’t so much fun without Will and Master Ted around, and soon there was nothing but sheets of black ice. Dad instructed Bertenshaw to spread grit over the paths.
“Can’t the lad do it?” complained Bertenshaw.
“I’m telling you to do it,” said Dad.
“It’s a lad’s job, is that,” grumbled Bertenshaw, but Dad ignored him.
In the Hall, Star pined. He would sniff about looking for Ted, then sigh deeply and take up his place at the window again. He curled up at night in a nest of Ted’s old clothes as if they could keep each other warm. He had finally managed to find a boot, and took that to bed too. Food didn’t taste the way it did when Ted looked after him, except if it was liver or chicken, something he liked very much. Her Ladyship fed him well and was kind, but he only wanted Ted to come home.
The next morning Aggie the kitchenmaid came picking her way cautiously across the frozen grass, her nose pink with cold. Lady Hazelgrove would like snowdrops, she said, to decorate the house. Dad nodded at Archie.
“Away you go, son,” he said. Archie ran across the snowy grass to the sheltered corner where snowdrops grew in drifts, hoping that Bertenshaw wasn’t about. He could imagine what he’d say – “Picking flowers now? That’s a girl’s job” – but Bertenshaw was a long way off tying strings over the delicate yellow crocuses to keep the birds from eating them. In the distance Lady Hazelgrove was walking Connel, but Star had wandered off and was getting dangerously close to Bertenshaw. Archie gave the two short sharp whistles Master Ted had taught him.
As soon as he’d done it he hated himself. At the sound of that whistle Star turned, his ears twitched up, and happiness shone in his eyes. He bounded across the lawn, bolted straight past Archie and round the corner of the nearest hedge, then emerged again more slowly, puzzled and searching.
“Star, come here!” called Archie, but Star wasn’t interested and Archie couldn’t bear to watch him looking for Master Ted. Hurting with regret he turned away and bent his head over the snowdrops. By the time he had cut enough of the thin green stems to make a bunch, Lady Hazelgrove and Connel were on their way to find Star.
“Good morning, my lady,” said Archie, touching his cap.
Star was puzzled. He knew he’d heard a whistle, but he’d searched everywhere without even a whiff of Ted’s boots. He pattered slowly back to the safety of Connel and Ladyship, but was distracted by a sack lying on the path. Curiosity was too much for him, and he pushed his nose into it.
Toys! thought Star. A bag full of toys! He sniffed about and chose his favourite one.
“Star!” shouted Archie. “No!”, then he turned hot, and his legs weakened. For the second time, he’d shouted at Star in front of the family. Star turned to face him, his eyes wide and a large potato wedged in his mouth.
“Beg pardon, my lady,” he said. “I was afraid he might have got hold of a bulb, and some of them are poisonous. But it’s just a sp … a potato, my lady.”
“Star, give,” ordered Lady Hazelgrove. Star dropped the potato at her feet and sat back.
“Now he wants me to throw it,” she sighed. “Will you do it, Archie? I’m sure your arm is stronger than mine.”
Archie threw the potato, and Star’s ears flapped as he ran after it. He looked thinner than he used to.
“It’s so good to see him enjoying something,” said Lady Hazelgrove. “He misses Ted so much, he’s even off his food.” She lowered her voice. “I can’t even say Ted’s name in front of him. He goes looking for him.”
Archie hoped she hadn’t heard that stupid whistle. He turned red just thinking about it. Star brought the potato back. He threw it again and, still red, dared to suggest an idea.
“I could take him for walks if you like, my lady,” he said.
“Thank you,” she replied, but there was something final about her voice that told him the answer would be “no”. “That’s most kind of you, Archie, but there’s no need. Star and I look after each other.” Neatly, she changed the subject. “We had a letter from Ted yesterday.”
Archie’s heart leapt. “Is he all right, my lady?”
“He sounds wonderfully well, Archie. They’re putting on entertainments for the men, and he’s been telling us what a good cheerful bunch they are.”
“
Please my lady, they’re lucky to…” he was interrupted by a loud urgent shout from somewhere near the kitchen garden.
“Help! Is anybody there? Help me!”
It was Dad’s voice. Slithering on the ice, Archie ran. “Dad! I’m coming! Where are you?”
Dad was sprawled on a stretch of black ice, struggling to stand and falling again. The coachman, two footmen and two of Dad’s assistants came to help. They made a stretcher out of an overcoat with poles in the sleeves and carried him to the Servants’ Hall while Bertenshaw watched. Mr Grant telephoned the doctor, and by the time he got there quite a crowd had gathered at the back of the Hall. “This is going to make more work for the rest of us,” muttered Bertenshaw to anyone who would listen. Inside, Archie stood at his father’s side. So did Lady Hazelgrove.
“I’m afraid it’s a break, and a bad one,” said Dr Purdy. “We’ll have to get you to hospital and have it put in plaster, then it’ll be six weeks on crutches for you, Sparrow. Six weeks at the least.”
The car waited at the back door of the Hall to take Dad to hospital. Archie, who had never been in a car, was hoping he’d be able to go with him, but Dad told him to go on with his work.
“Tell Bertenshaw I want to see those paths gritted when I get back,” growled Dad. “If there’s ice the size of a pea I want it done again. It could have been Her Ladyship or anyone. Understood?”
The car growled away. Lady Hazelgrove turned to Archie.
“What did he mean about Bertenshaw?” she asked. “Was he supposed to have gritted the paths?”
Archie didn’t like telling tales, but he was too angry with Bertenshaw to care. Anyway, Lady Hazelgrove had already guessed.
“Yes, my lady,” he said.
“I see, Archie. Thank you.” She walked away with a look of determination on her face.
“We’ll make a bed downstairs for when your dad gets home,” said Ma. “That’s war for you. Gardeners going off to fight and we’re left with the likes of Bertenshaw to keep things going. Did you know he got a final warning?”
“No, Ma!” A final warning was a serious thing. One more mistake from Bertenshaw and he’d be sacked. The cottage he lived in belonged to the Carrs, just as Gardener’s Cottage did, so he’d be homeless too.
“My lady said if we weren’t so short of staff she would have dismissed him at once. All the staff are talking about it.”
While Dad lay in the house and grumbled, Ma did what she could to help in the garden, pulling up weeds while Flora played with pebbles. Dad was soon on crutches, swinging his lame leg, then just on one crutch, always with a little frown of pain on his face, supervising work and giving orders. His leg was mending badly and taking a long time. Spring came slowly, but it came at last.
Never mind,” he said one evening. “At least when I look like this, nobody’s going to give me a white feather.”
“Why a white feather?” asked Jenn.
“I’m surprised you haven’t found out,” said Ma. “I hear there’s women in York handing them out.”
“If a woman gives a man a white feather it’s a way of saying he’s a coward,” said Dad. “If they see a man who’s fighting age and not wearing a uniform, they give him a white feather to shame him.”
“That’s shocking!” said Jenn. “He could just be a bit poorly, or be a, like, a doctor or somebody that we need to be here, or anything. How do those women know?”
“Quite,” said Ma. “There’s enough bad things happening in the world now without stirring up more trouble. There’ll be a lot more trouble before this year’s out.”
But for a while, the news after that was good. There were occasional letters from Master Ted, and soon all the household was talking about them. He seemed to be well. A lot of the Ashlings men were under his command, and he was proud of them. Archie wanted to write to him and tell him what was happening at Ashlings, but he didn’t know where to write. And there wasn’t much to tell, except that the gardens were overrun with rabbits in spite of all that His Lordship’s gun dogs, Brier and Sherlock, could do. Star didn’t even try to chase them any more.
It was better when Star was being a nuisance, thought Archie as he watched him. He wished Star would be under everyone’s feet again. There were nights when Archie lay awake wondering if Master Ted was being honest in his letters. He might be injured or hungry, and didn’t want his family to know.
“I just met Her Ladyship in garden,” said Dad one morning. “She was asking about new fruit trees int’ walled garden. And she was telling me about Master Ted’s letters, you’d think he was on holiday from what he says.”
Soon afterwards Archie saw her, too, walking back towards the Hall with Connel unleashed but still walking at her side and Star behind her. Star didn’t look himself, not at all. He walked slowly, with his head down. Poor little soul, thought Archie. He must be missing Master Ted more than ever. His walk slowed and slowed, and Archie stopped working to watch him. Then the dog’s legs seemed to weaken. He stumbled, and rolled on to his side.
“My lady!” yelled Archie, and ran to Star. His nose was hot and dry, and his eyes were dull. Lady Hazelgrove was hurrying across the lawn to them.
“He just fell, my lady,” said Archie. “He’s not well.”
Lady Hazelgrove knelt, felt Star’s nose, and put a hand to his neck to find a pulse.
“He needs the vet,” she said. “Archie, carry him back to the Hall for me. To the front door. Connel, come!”
Holding her long skirts in one hand she ran ahead of him to the Hall with Connel loping at her side. Archie gathered Star’s limp, warm body in his arms and held him closely as he ran him to the Hall. Under his hand he could feel the fast beating of the small heart and suddenly it mattered, more than anything else in his life, more than anything in the world, that Star stayed alive.
“You’ll be all right,” he said. “You’ve got to be, haven’t you? Your master’s coming back for you. Hold on now, hold on for Master Ted.” Then the chauffeur was running to the car and Lady Hazelgrove was taking the weak bundle of dog from Archie’s arms.
He was working in the garden in the afternoon when Jenn came running to find him. She had just come in from school, she said, and “Lady Hazelgrove’s at our cottage! She came to talk to Dad and she sounds dead cross!”
“Any news of Star?” he asked as they ran back to the cottage, but Jenn wasn’t listening. The door of the front room was closed, and they heard the firm voice of Lady Hazelgrove. Archie and Jenn tiptoed up the stairs and sat on the middle stair to listen.
“What has happened to Star is bad enough!” exclaimed Lady Hazelgrove.
Something clenched in Archie’s stomach. Star mustn’t die. It was unthinkable. He had to be here for Master Ted coming home, he couldn’t possibly die. He mattered too much, and not just for Master Ted’s sake. Star was annoying, scruffy, and scatter-brained, but Archie, sitting on the stairs, knew that he was simply the nicest dog he had ever met.
“What’s happened to Star?” whispered Jenn.
“Poorly,” he whispered back.
“We could all have ended up eating poisoned rabbit,” Lady Hazelgrove was saying. Archie felt suddenly sick with fear.
“My lady,” said Dad, “let me assure you on my word, I have never used poisons on the gardens and I never will. I’m here to work with nature, not poison it. It’s not my way. And the men have orders not to touch it either. You’re welcome to inspect the sheds. All of them. You can search the house if you like, you’ll find nothing. And the account books. I’ll be doing a search myself, and pardon me saying so, my lady, but God help anyone who’s put down poison on Ashlings land. Anywhere. You’re quite right to say it’s not just t’dogs.” A harsher note entered his voice and Archie could hear that he was fighting down his anger. “Our little Flora’s still tiny enough to put all sorts in her mouth.”
Jenn pressed clos
er to Archie, who put his arm round her.
“Quite so,” said Lady Hazelgrove more gently.
“We’ll get straight on to it, my lady,” he said. “I suggest a good place to start would be the chemists’ shops round about. They have to keep a list of sales of poisons, and who they sell them to.”
There was a rustle of skirts as Her Ladyship stood up. Archie and Jenn darted up the stairs and out of sight. When she had gone and Dad was alone, they crept back downstairs.
“Is Star all right?” asked Archie, and Dad didn’t ask him if he’d been eavesdropping or tell him off.
“He might pull through, he might not,” said Dad. “If I find out who put down poison on our land I won’t be accountable for my actions.”
Please let Star live. Please let him be all right. Archie repeated it over and over all day, and until he finally fell asleep that night. He’s a good dog, he’d never hurt anyone. If he were a lad he’d be a nice little lad. The next day, the news was that Star was still alive, and there was hope. Lady Hazelgrove had stayed up all night with him. The day after that, Sam the Boots told Archie that Star was eating well and wagging his tail again, and Bertenshaw was sent for to come to the Hall.
“The chemist in Kirby Moss identified him,” said Dad. “He used a false name, but the chemist gave a description. Turns out he’s got quite a store of poisons. Says it’s for rats. Little Star had a lucky escape.”
“I don’t like to see a man lose his job, but there’s no excuse for that,” said Ma firmly. “That dog nearly died and I don’t like to think what else might have happened. Still, the old misery will have to work somewhere.”
“He can always go to road mending,” said Dad. “He’s strong, he can work. And I reckon he’ll move in with his old father. Lady Hazelgrove’s given him two weeks to be out of the cottage, but he’s not to show his face in the gardens meantime. We’ll be even more short of staff now, but I still reckon we’re better off without him.”
Archie's War Page 4