‘I got these.’ He touched the scars on his face. ‘But Georgia didn’t make it. She died from smoke inhalation.’
‘Oh, Eric, how awful. But you shouldn’t blame yourself. It was an accident.’ Maggie’s heart went out to him as she tenderly wiped the tears from his cheeks, and suddenly he was sobbing in her arms as she cradled him against her chest.
In that moment she felt closer to him than she had ever felt to anyone in her whole life. Probably because they had both suffered so very much and were continuing to suffer.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
The next morning, Lizzie developed a raging temperature. Maggie was almost beside herself with worry as she mopped the child’s sweating brow again and again with a cool flannel. Eventually, Eric decided to walk down into the village and get the doctor to come back up to Tremarfon to look at her.
She flashed him a grateful smile, very aware that they were causing him a great deal of trouble.
‘It’s really kind of you,’ she told him for at least the dozenth time. He waved aside her thanks. In actual fact, he was glad of an excuse to get down to the village, for as he’d lain in bed and relived the episode of the day before, something had come back to him. It was something Sparky had said when they arrived back in the village. Eric remembered commenting that if Gus had visited Sparky in his bedroom, then perhaps both boys were still somewhere close to the village? Sparky had denied it and had begun to tell him that, ‘Danny was . . .’ then a coughing fit had stopped him from going any further. Perhaps he’d been about to tell them where the boys were?
Not wishing to raise Maggie’s hopes, he decided to call in and see if the child was well enough to talk to him. But first he would call on the doctor and arrange for him to visit Lizzie.
Nodding his goodbyes to Maggie and Lizzie, he turned to set off.
‘Oh, just a second. Could you pick these up for me from the village shop while you’re down there?’ Maggie asked. ‘It’s just a few bits we’re running short of and something for dinner.’
He smiled wryly as he tucked the list into his pocket. He was beginning to feel like an old married man, which would be quite funny if it weren’t so frightening. After reaching the village, he collected the supplies first then headed for the doctor’s house.
Luckily the doctor was in when Eric arrived and he assured Eric that he would call in at Tremarfon later in the day. ‘It’s been a bad business all the way round!’ he exclaimed sadly as he shook his head. ‘Let’s just thank God that Lizzie came out of it as well as she did. It’s a pity that Sparky didn’t fare so well though, the poor little soul.’
‘What do you mean?’ Eric demanded.
The other man sighed. ‘I’m so sorry, Mr Sinclair. Of course, you couldn’t have heard, could you, stuck up there in the hills. Sparky died last night. It wasn’t totally unexpected, I have to say, so I don’t want you or Mrs Bright to blame yourselves. Sparky had been a very poorly little boy for a very long time. To be honest, I’m amazed that he lasted as long as he did. He had a very severe heart condition, and in the end his heart just gave out. His ending was very peaceful though, which is something we should be thankful for, I suppose.’
Eric leaned heavily against the doorframe as shock overcame him. So the poor little chap had passed away. At least he had died a hero, but now he wouldn’t be able to tell him where Gus and Danny were.
Mumbling his thanks, he stumbled out of the doctor’s and began to make his way home. How would Maggie take the news when he told her? He shuddered to think, as he moved along on feet that felt as heavy as lead.
As he neared Tremarfon he saw Maggie looking out of the window for him with a wide smile on her face. When he walked into the kitchen, frozen to the bone, he soon saw why. Lizzie was propped up on cushions on the settee sipping hot milk and looking much better.
‘I think it’s just a heavy cold,’ Maggie told him as she took the supplies from Eric and helped him out of his coat. He smiled with relief as he went to hold his frozen fingers out to the warmth of the fire.
‘Well, that’s good to hear. If she’s come out of all this with nothing worse, then I think she’s been extremely lucky. The doctor will be calling round later on, just to make sure. Meantime, is there any tea left in that pot? I’m dry as a bone. It’s absolutely bitter out there.’
‘Of course.’ Maggie hurried away to fetch a cup and as he stood there he wondered how he should tell her about Sparky. Knowing what a soft heart she had, she was bound to take the news badly.
Once he’d drained his cup, he gently took her elbow and led her towards the deep stone sink, out of earshot of Lizzie. ‘Maggie . . .’ he began hesitantly. There seemed no easy way to tell her the terrible news so he ended up just blurting it out. ‘I’m afraid Sparky died last night. According to the doctor it was only a matter of time. His heart condition was very severe.’
‘I see,’ she said softly as tears filled her eyes. She seemed to have shed so many tears over the last few months that it was always a shock to her when more came that she had any left to cry. ‘Then may God bless his soul. Without him, we would never have found Lizzie.’
Heads bowed, they both thought of the brave little boy. The world would be a much sadder place without him. They could only pray that somewhere he would be reunited with his family again.
It was as they were still standing there that Eric said quietly, ‘Have you broken the news to Lizzie yet about Danny being missing, and about everything else?’
Maggie shook her head, her eyes full of fear at the prospect, yet she knew that she could put it off no longer. ‘I’ll go and do it now,’ she said, and Eric left the room. Eventually, he heard Lizzie begin to sob. As the sound tore through him he squeezed his eyes tight shut and turning about, he walked swiftly away.
‘Eeh, I really don’t know how much more o’ this I can take,’ Beryl fretted as she sat at the kitchen table. She was stiff and sore from yet another night spent huddled in the cupboard under the stairs. The bombing just seemed to be going on and on, and now she was weary of it.
‘If the buggers start up again tonight I’m stoppin’ in me own bed an’ takin’ me chances,’ she declared as she sipped at the hot sweet tea Jo had made her.
Grinning, Jo handed a cup to David, who grinned back at her. The look that passed between them was not lost on Beryl, and she sighed. Those two were getting on like a house on fire these days. The week before, they had been subjected to yet another terrible raid that had lasted almost all night, and David had reacted badly to it. Jo had insisted on staying in his room with him, talking to him soothingly and holding his hand, and ever since then she seemed to have taken on the role of his carer. If he cried out in the night, in the grip of some terrible nightmare, as he frequently did, it was now Jo who would go to him and comfort him. She would cut his meal up for him and pander to his every whim, which was all very well from where Beryl was standing, but what would happen when Maggie got back home? She had always seen David and Maggie as a couple despite the fact that Maggie had married Sam, but now . . . Narrowing her eyes, she watched them. Perhaps it was just her reading too much into the way they were together. After all, she had to admit, Jo was a kind-hearted girl and would probably have shown the same care and concern for anyone in David’s position.
When a sharp rap came to the front door she started.
‘I’ll get it,’ Jo offered, jumping up from her seat at David’s side. ‘I bet it’s the police again, come to give us an update on the search for Danny.’
Beryl nodded in agreement. ‘Happen yer right an’ God willin’ they’ll be bringin’ us good news fer a change.’
The weary stoop of Jo’s shoulders told their own story when she next came back into the room. ‘No word on Danny as yet,’ she told them, ‘but thank goodness, Lizzie has been found safe. The policeman told me that Maggie is going to stay with her as the little one isn’t too well at present, then no doubt she’ll come back to wait for news of Danny.’
�
�Aw well. Thank the Lord one of ’em is accounted for,’ Beryl muttered, tears of relief in her eyes, but where in God’s name could Danny be?
That night, Beryl Bright simply couldn’t get off to sleep, which was surprising, because after all the disturbed nights she’d suffered recently, she was tired out. Eventually she slipped into a restless doze, and it was then that the strangest thing happened, for suddenly she became aware of someone standing at the side of the bed. She rolled over to find herself looking at a little boy with startling red hair who was holding what appeared to be a large white mouse or rat in his hand. She felt no fear. In fact, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world that he should be there.
‘’Ere, are you Danny’s nan?’ he asked, with an unmistakable cockney accent.
‘That I am.’ Beryl’s head bounced eagerly on her shoulders at the mention of her grandson. ‘Why, who’s askin’?’
‘It don’t matter who I am,’ he told her cheekily. ‘I’ve come to tell yer where Danny is.’
‘Oh yes, an’ how would you know that then?’
‘Let’s just say I do.’ He tapped the side of his nose knowingly. ‘Now, do yer want me to tell yer or what?’
‘Of course I do,’ Beryl snapped as hope grew in her heart. ‘I just hope this ain’t some sort o’ cruel joke though,’cos we’ve been goin’ out of our heads wi’ worry about him.’
‘Right. Well, you’ll find ’im in the Coventry an’ Warwick Hospital.’
Rolling over, Beryl immediately slipped back into a deep sleep.
Both Jo and David remarked on how quiet she was the next morning at breakfast and eventually she told them, ‘Do yer know, I had the weirdest dream last night. I dreamed this little boy was in my room. He said that our Danny was in the Coventry an’ Warwick Hospital.’
‘Dreams can be funny things,’ Jo said as she scraped some marge onto a slice of toast.
‘Yes, I know that,’ Beryl said in a state of great agitation. ‘But it was so real, almost as if he was really there.’
‘But we’ve already checked all the hospitals, Mam,’ David pointed out.
‘I know we have,’ Beryl agreed, ‘but all the same I feel as if I ought to check again. Come on - let’s get us coats on. It can’t do any harm, can it?’
Realising that they would get no peace until they’d done as she asked, Jo and David put their coats on, and in no time at all, they had all set off through their fallen city. David peered up at the spire of the once-magnificent Cathedral and silently cursed the war that had caused it to fall. But his heart was lighter than it had been for some time, now that he knew at least Lizzie was safe, and he tried to concentrate on what they were doing.
The hospital was in total chaos from the casualties that had been brought in. People were lying on stretchers in corridors, and harassed doctors and nurses were running to and fro.
Beryl lifted her handbag higher and purposefully approached the reception desk. ‘I’ve been told me grandson is in here,’ she told a ferret-faced receptionist.
‘Name?’ the woman asked impersonally.
Controlling her temper, Beryl snapped back, ‘Daniel Bright!’
‘Age?’
‘Ten years.’
The woman began to run her finger down a seemingly endless list of patients as Beryl tapped her foot impatiently.
Eventually the receptionist shook her head. ‘I’ve no one of that name listed here.’
‘You must have,’ Beryl insisted, and when the woman saw that she wasn’t going to budge, she sighed.
‘I’ll pass you on to someone who might be able to help you,’ she told her eventually. ‘We do have a ward full of people who had no identity on them when they were brought in, so there is a faint chance that he could be amongst them.’
Beryl nodded grimly as the woman rose from her seat and bustled away down a corridor. Some minutes later, she returned with a young nurse who looked fit to drop.
‘Would you like to follow me?’ she asked tiredly and they all nodded. They seemed to walk for a long time through corridors that smelled of whitewash, stale disinfectant and death. At last she stopped at some doors that led into a ward.
‘How old did you say your grandson was?’ she asked.
‘Danny is ten.’
‘Mmm . . . Well, I don’t want to raise your hopes, but it just so happens that we do have a little boy of about that age in. I’m afraid the shock of his injuries and what he must have gone through have made him lose his memory. But if he is your grandson, seeing you might be just the medicine he needs. Would you like to come with me?’
Beryl could only nod numbly as fear blocked her throat. The nurse pushed the double doors open and they found themselves in a long ward. On either side were neatly made beds full of people of all ages, shapes and sizes.
‘This way,’ the nurse told them, and they all silently trailed after her. About halfway down the ward she pointed to a bed that had curtains pulled around it.
‘The only one we have remotely answering your description is the child in there,’ she told them. ‘I’m afraid if he isn’t Danny, then I can’t help you. Are you ready to go in?’
Jo slipped her hand into David’s and squeezed it as Beryl solemnly nodded. Swishing the curtain aside, the nurse waited for Beryl to step past her. She found her eyes focused on a large metal cage that completely covered the child’s legs. Then they slowly travelled up the bed and there was Danny, looking very pale and ill, but it was Danny all the same.
‘Oh, thank the Lord!’ Beryl exclaimed, and as she fell on her grandson, tears of joy began to rain down her face.
‘Right, how about you joining me in a glass of wine then? I picked it up on impulse while I was down in the village and I don’t much like drinking alone.’
Maggie chewed on her lip. She’d never been much of a drinker, but then a couple of glasses couldn’t hurt, could it?
‘All right then,’ she agreed as Eric scrabbled around in the kitchen drawer for a corkscrew. Lizzie, who was getting better every day, was fast asleep upstairs, and Maggie decided it might be nice to unwind a bit.
Eric turned the wireless on and the haunting strains of Vera Lynn floated around the room. By the time she was halfway down her glass, Maggie felt herself relaxing a little for the first time in weeks. The room was warm and cosy and the light from the fire was making her feel sleepy.
As Eric topped up her glass, he noticed the way the firelight was turning her hair to the colour of spun gold and his heart began to hammer. She was so beautiful that it hurt him to look at her. But her beauty was not just on the outside. Maggie Bright was beautiful on the inside too, as he’d discovered over the time she had been staying with him.
When their hands accidentally touched, he felt an electric shock pass through him and he knew that she had felt it too, for her eyes suddenly opened wide as she looked up at him.
Dropping onto the seat beside her, he muttered, ‘I shall miss you when you go, Maggie.’
‘I shall miss you too,’ she said wistfully, and she meant it, for she knew now, without a shadow of a doubt, that she was falling in love with him. Oh, she knew it was foolish and that nothing could ever come of it, but Eric was like no man she had ever known. Not even David. But Eric was still in love with his late wife - he’d made that abundantly clear - and soon she would be gone from him forever and he would be left with his memories.
The thought brought tears to her eyes, and as he saw them trembling on her lashes he hesitantly reached out to wipe them away. When her hand came up to caress his, their eyes locked and then suddenly they were in each other’s arms.
‘Oh, Maggie.’ His voice was strangled with emotion as they fell back in a heap on the settee, and then their lips were joined and a million fireworks exploded behind her eyes.
His hand was roving over her, leaving trails of fire, and she recklessly gave herself up to the pleasure of it, then somehow they were on the hearthrug with their clothes discarded in a heap, and feelings
that she’d never known she had sprang to life as they tenderly made love to each other.
When it was finally over she lay in his arms, knowing that, whatever happened in the future, she would cherish this memory until the day she died.
At some point they both drifted off into a contented sleep, and only the sound of heavy pounding on the door brought them springing awake.
Eric jumped up and began to pull his clothes on, and suddenly embarrassed, Maggie did the same. Buttoning his flies, Eric disappeared into the hallway, and as she was running her fingers through her wild hair, Maggie heard voices at the door. Seconds later, Eric reappeared, closely followed by the policeman from the village who was gripping his helmet tightly in both hands.
Moonlight and Ashes Page 39