by Gloria Cook
* * *
‘Aunt! What on earth do you think you’re doing? You can’t go through his things.’
‘Don’t be foolish, Honor. We’ve a stranger, with the most terrible rumours circulating about him, lying on the sitting- room couch, and we’ve the right to know more about him than his name.’ Florence Burrows was gingerly rifling through Archie’s bedroll, which had been dropped on the kitchen floor. She paused. ‘But Ben knows something about him, doesn’t he? He was eager to take care of him, and obviously doesn’t believe he’s an ungrateful wastrel or worse.’
‘Alec Harvey trusted him. So does Ben.’ Honor placed her hands over Archie’s things. ‘That’s all we need to know.’ Florence set sharp eyes on her. ‘You know something too, don’t you? What is it?’
‘Emilia told me that Archie’s a man of honour and that’s good enough for me.’
‘Well, it isn’t for me.’ Florence tried to wrest Honor away so she could resume her search.
Ben came back from seeing the builder to his bicycle; on his way back to Truro he was going to inform Dr Holloway his services were required at the farm. ‘What’s going on? I thought someone would be sitting with Archie.’
‘Archie’s still not come round but his breathing seems to have eased a little,’ Honor replied. Her tone turned confrontational. ‘I was on my way back to him when I caught Aunt Florence going through his things.’
Florence pushed Honor, none too gently, away from the bedroll. ‘I resent your accusation that I’m doing something wrong.’
‘He must have been making his way back to Ford Farm. When he’s up to it I’ll drive him over on the jingle. Well, Mrs Burrows, have you found anything interesting?’ He nodded at the source of her investigation.
‘Ben!’
‘Your aunt’s right, Honor. That workhouse brat’s been spreading lies about Archie – you can never trust his sort, but I think it’s time we knew more about Archie.’
Florence produced a faded brown paper packet tied up with string. ‘What shall we find in here, I wonder?’
Honor didn’t like it, but she joined Ben to watch. The knots of the string were tight and damp and aged, staining the brown paper, difficult to undo. With eager fingers, Florence opened the packet flaps and pulled out a collection of papers and photographs. She spread them out on the table. And grew excited. ‘He’s Commander Archibald Stevenson Rothwell. These photographs are proof of his identity. It’s easy to see it’s him even with his beard and untidy hair.’
‘I already know that,’ said Ben. ‘What else is there?’
‘He looks older than these photographs suggest he really is – rough living, I suppose,’ Florence’s tone was one of awe now. ‘One of these places seems familiar to me, and so does one of these women. I’ve probably seen them in the society pages.’
‘There’s a newspaper cutting about his torpedoed ship. There were few survivors. It’s how his feet got deformed.’
Ben shuddered. He had not allowed Honor to settle Archie as she’d wished to do. He had taken off his boots and socks, to be reviled at the sight of his shrivelled, blackened, toe-less feet, bloodied by his trekking. ‘Is there a clue to his home address or a family?’
‘There’s some letters and poems, but any addresses have been torn off,’ Honor said, full of sorrow for the quiet unassuming drifter. She was sure his reason to keep his past a secret was an honest one. ‘This one’s signed “Mummy and Daddy”. He has, or did have parents. I think we’ve seen enough, and should respect his wishes to remain anonymous.’
‘Yes, I agree. I believe he’s genuine. Put this all back, Mrs Burrows.’ The words were hardly out of Ben’s mouth when a terrible howling started up from the sitting room. He rushed there, with Honor close after him. Florence joined them after she had secreted one of the photographs into her handbag.
They found Archie sitting up, rigid and sweating, his hands reaching out for something unseen, his eyes huge and staring, his lips moving in babble, but he wasn’t awake. Ben shook him hard, it took an effort to bring him out of his nightmare. He was convulsing and gagging. Honor passed Ben the glass of water left in attendance.
‘Archie, take a deep breath. Calm yourself. That’s better. Drink this.’
Archie clutched the glass and gulped, shaking water over himself and the horsehair blankets placed over him. He snorted and made a guzzling noise before falling back on the cushions, staring up at the beams and ceiling.
Ben said in a soft voice. ‘Old memories?’
‘The worst.’ Archie’s voice was a rasp. ‘You couldn’t imagine…’
‘Your ship went down, I understand.’ Ben had not felt emotional since the day he had cried in Julian Andrews’s motor car, now he could cry a river for this man. Archie had lost his ship, his men, his feet, and one of man’s prized possessions, his dignity.
‘Men were burning. Screaming. The sense of fear. The smell…’
‘I’m so very sorry. Archie, forgive me, but before we talk more I must ask you this. Would you tell me why you suddenly left my brother’s farm? You see, I want to put things right for you, Jim Killigrew’s been saying things about you. Vile things.’
Archie wiped a sweaty hand across his brow. The shaking started all over again. ‘I swear I had no wrongful intentions towards his sister. Jim threatened me. Staying at Ford Farm would have been intolerable. Mr Harvey would have had to choose between us, and I didn’t want any distress caused to Sara.’
‘Why were you in the garden that day, Archie? You always keep away from people.’
‘I was waiting to hear Sara sing. I had a sister… she too sang like a nightingale…’
‘It’s outrageous, you being treated like that, Archie.’ Honor edged Ben aside and dabbed gently at Archie’s wet brow. ‘You shall stay with us and when you’re well again you can do the same jobs here as you did for Alec.’ There was a pleading in her eyes. ‘You will stay?’ Then to Ben. ‘You won’t let him go?’
‘Indeed not. There’s no spare room in the house with us living here at present, but I’m sure you won’t mind the barn. I’ve made it clean and watertight. You shall stay in here until your cold’s gone.’
‘I’m grateful to you both. What about you, Mrs Burrows?’ Exhausted, he was desperate for sleep. ‘I’d rather move on if my presence was to breed resentment.’
‘I might be called a duchess round here because of my grand ways, but I’m not a termagant, Mr Rothwell,’ Florence said, in a voice unusually steeped with compassion and humour. ‘Forgive me for being inquisitive. Why have you chosen your way of life? I felt I had to look through your things, you see. In your photographs there are people, children, a dog, one of you on horseback. You have a family somewhere, haven’t you?’
‘Not any more. I have no one. I spent months in a nursing home after I was brought back to England. I left, after terrifying a patient with a din like the one you’ve just heard. I keep myself to myself because I don’t want others subjected to it.’
‘But surely the Navy has an obligation towards you?’
‘Yes, they have, ma’am, but the only option they gave me was to be stowed away in an ex-serviceman’s institution for the rest of my life. I didn’t want that.’
Honor caught hold of Ben’s arm. ‘We can’t let him sleep in the barn when he’s well. Archie’s suffered so much. He deserves better than that.’
Ben held out his hand to Archie. ‘I’m asking you to stay, Archie. I’ll need a manager. I’ll rearrange the office, make a cosy room for you to work and sleep in. And I’ll scotch those despicable rumours that damned boy has spread about. I swear, you’ll live here in peace.’
Archie gazed up at Honor. Her golden loveliness, her soft scent was soothing. She smiled at him, nodded at him to accept Ben’s offer.
Mustering up the energy, Archie shook on it. Breathless, he closed his eyes. ‘God bless you, Ben Harvey, you’re a man of honour. One gets so weary of trailing about. I don’t think I could have started all over agai
n.’
Chapter Twenty-Five
Tristan went into the den and raised his brows at seeing Emilia behind the desk, while Alec, ambling about with his hands in his trouser pockets, dictated facts and figures to her. ‘Oh, I came in to offer my services but I see you have everything under control.’
‘We do everything together,’ Alec said, smiling with pride and affection at his wife. ‘You rest, spend time with Jonny.’
‘I think my son’s beginning to feel I’m stifling him. He’s just roped in Jim to help him build a snowman, during his crib break. Sorry about the hall mirror, I’ve spanked Jonny’s leg and warned him not to bring that blessed slingshot into the house again.’
‘Well, he’s a damned good shot.’ Alec included Emilia in his grin. He settled in his chair to enjoy Tristan’s quiet, unchallenging company. ‘Nearly on par with Jim himself. Jim can hit a rabbit and kill it stone dead at over a hundred paces, you know. We had a particularly tender rabbit pie soon after he arrived, didn’t we, darling? He hasn’t said so, but I’m sure when his father was in dock he took him poaching. Don’t worry about Jim’s influence on Jonny, I’ll keep him in line.’
‘Oh, I’m not. Jim’s got an unfortunate imagination, but I’ve commanded enough men to know a solid character when I see one.’
‘Shall I get us some tea?’ Emilia said. She wished Tristan showed signs of putting on weight, of losing his gauntness, but she guessed he had a lot on his mind concerning his wife, who never ventured out of Jonathan’s room, which she shared with him.
‘No, thanks, Emilia. I’m about to go up to Ursula. I popped over to see Ben this morning. Archie Rothwell’s recovering well.’
Alec elected not to answer. He’d seen Archie’s defection as a lack of trust in him, a break of friendship. From his uninterested expression, he hadn’t changed his mind.
‘He’s written to say that he’d thought it best he moved on over the misunderstanding with Jim,’ Emilia replied. ‘I hope you’ve explained to Archie and Ben that we’ve taken Jim to task over what happened – it was a particularly nasty accusation. He’s got a suspicious streak in his nature, and he can be as stubborn as others I know.’ She glanced at Alec, who merely smiled back. ‘I miss Archie being here.’
Tristan settled his gaze on Emilia. The bloom of pregnancy made her captivating, everything about her glowed and stated promise. A pity, though, that the child inside his wife’s belly appeared to be flourishing.
Emilia noticed him looking. Such sadness he had, and insightfulness. How sensitively he had spoken to her and her parents about Billy. On turning out his tunic pockets to send it to the cleaners, she had come across some words scribbled on a grimy scrap of paper.
Moments of time, it’s all we have.
One moment alive, then for ever silent.
For the silent, no hearing, no seeing, no touching.
For ever denied their share of moments of time.
We’re all just moments of time.
Such a pity he had married an unfaithful woman and was still facing the consequences of her affair. Tristan had not discussed his feelings with Alec about Ursula or her baby, and because of Ben’s age he had probably not confided in him either. An awful burden to carry alone.
Mentally, Emilia reached out to Tristan, hoping he sensed her concern, her consolation. He nodded, as if he had.
* * *
Tristan put his head round Jonathan’s bedroom door. ‘All right if I come in?’
Ursula was reclining by the window overlooking the front garden, where she was watching Jonathan and Jim build the snowman. ‘Of course, Tris. Sit down, please stay. Jonny’s having fun.’
‘It’s good to see him doing a few of the usual boyhood things. I suppose Jim never got the chance to play before, he’s like another child out there. You look a little better again today.’ He stood beside the fire, not wanting to be too close to her, his hands clasped behind his back. He saw her every day, but only stayed a few minutes. He knew they should talk, about Bruce Ashley, about her child, but he’d shunted his feelings into a sort of no man’s land, and wanted to keep them there.
She gave a self-conscious smile. ‘I’m feeling quite strong again. I’m being well looked after, thanks to you and Emilia.’
‘She’s a good sort.’ An amazing sort, he thought, grateful for her soothing presence at the farm. ‘Can’t say how glad I am for Alec after what Lucy put him through.’ His eyes darted off. He might have been conversing with a mere acquaintance. At times he wished she had not come back, yet he knew his worrying about her would have eaten him up. He didn’t care what outsiders thought of the situation. The scandal was unimportant. When his thoughts returned to the trenches, he despised the small-mindedness and false values held by all walks of life.
Wearing the clothes of her first pregnancy, Ursula angled her dark head to try to win eye contact with him. ‘It’s hard to believe Emilia’s so young. I’d like to make a friend of her, but I can’t expect her to feel the same way about me.’
‘Try to get to know her, I’m sure she’d be reasonable. I’m off in a minute to see the medics.’ He indicated his wounded ankle.
‘You still limp, Tris.’ She peered down at his boot. ‘How does it feel?’
‘Stiff and sore, it aches. The rest of me is in pretty good order now.’
‘It doesn’t appear so and I hope the doctors will agree. I mean, I hope you never have to go back there. Men are still dying in droves. I don’t want that for you, Tris.’ She reached out a nervous hand, retracted it. He had ignored it. ‘You don’t deserve anything else bad happening to you. You’re such a good man, you’ve always been good to me. I don’t deserve your goodness now.’
‘I’ve never stopped loving you, Ursula,’ he found himself blurting out. ‘It’s as simple as that.’ The simple truth, and it made him sick to his guts. Her gulp of relief made his insides coil into a tight painful ball. She was probably only here to be with Jonny. If she told him she still loved him, just to keep him on side, to exploit this goodness she reckoned he had, he’d shock her and tell her how he really felt. That like every other mortal soul in this world he was capable of hate and the desire for revenge.
‘That makes me feel humble and even more ashamed of what I’ve done.’ She was talking rapidly, as if afraid of losing his attention. ‘But things will soon get… difficult. Tris, about—’
‘Be careful what you say, Ursula.’
Ursula paled and shook. She had never heard this tone from him before, harsh, discordant. Hurt. An immeasurable volume of hurt. She was becoming aware of how much she had wounded him. She had hoped for forgiveness, if anyone was capable of forgiving so much, it was Tristan. She was suddenly afraid he would send her and her baby away.
She wet her lips, her lovely, velvety brown eyes darting with nerves. ‘We’ve never spoken about… about Bruce Ashley, the fact that I’m carrying his child and soon to give birth to it. Oh, Tris, I made a terrible mistake. I’ll never stop telling you how sorry I am and I’ll never stop praying you’ll forgive me, but whether or not you’ll let me stay with you and Jonny, a decision will have to be made soon about this baby.’
Tristan was petrified with disgust at her lover’s name. The thought of her being with another man – how could she have done this to him? He thought his head would split open with all the loathing and anger. He made himself think as an officer: cool, detached, in control. Jonny’s future, that was what mattered. This odious mess must be sorted out somehow. ‘Let’s face facts then. First, do you want to keep it?’
Ursula hung her head, unable to meet his burning eyes. ‘No. I’m finding it hard to feel anything for it. It couldn’t be hidden from Jonny – my disgrace – he’s too clever, and unfortunately he’s excited over the prospect of a new brother or sister. I’ve thought a lot about what to do if you’d take me back, Tris.’ She looked up at him now, with tears. She seemed like a small girl, pathetic, near panic. ‘It’s complicating matters between us, isn’t it? I sho
uld go away for the confinement. Some people are looking for a child to adopt. If it’s a boy, perhaps a lost son could be replaced.’
‘What would you tell Jonny then?’
‘That the child was stillborn. He’d soon forget all about it. Then… then you could see how you feel about me. I thought we could move away, where nobody knows us. We could start over again if you want, Tris. Be a family again.’
Be a family again. The notion milled round inside his head. It was all he had wanted each time he had left home to fight. And now? Why couldn’t he come to a decision? He still loved Ursula. Why couldn’t he go near her, let her reach out to him? He glanced at her bulging middle. It was that damned child. When it was out of the way, perhaps he’d be able to think differently. He was silent a long time.
‘Will you at least think about it? Please, Tris?’ Ursula was sobbing.
Part of him wanted to go to her, but the reviled part kept him distant. ‘Yes, I’ll do that, Ursula. We’ll talk, about Ashley, about what exactly led you to betray me – that I have to know. If you’ll excuse me, I must go, don’t want to be late for my appointment.’
* * *
Emilia and Alec left the den. He put his arms round her and his smile told her he had something good to say. ‘I’ve been thinking. I’m going to make Edwin up as manager. And why don’t we ask him and your mother to come here to live when there’s a room free? You’re going to need help with the baby, and we’re all family now.’
‘Mum and Dad have been lost since I moved out, and more so since knowing Billy’s never coming home. It’s a wonderful idea. Thanks Alec—’ she kissed him – ‘for being so thoughtful.’
They moved along the passage and saw Ursula on her way down the stairs. She went rigid. Her eyes were puffy and red from weeping. ‘I—I…’
‘I’ll leave you to see to this, darling.’ Alec strode away.