Lily's Journey

by Tania Crosse

  Edwin was just pouring out the coffee, and Wendy was tackling a pile of late sprouts for dinner. A cabbage was also waiting to be chopped.

  ‘Let me help you with that,’ I offered jauntily.

  ‘No, you sit there and have your coffee. I’ll help Wendy. I can handle a knife, you know.’ Edwin was grinning cheekily as he picked up another vegetable knife. ‘Right. First incision so.’ And he carefully scored down one side of the cabbage. ‘Then we cut deeper, being careful to avoid the arteries and main nerves. Protractors, please. Well, hold it open with your hands, Nurse Lily. Now, through the peritoneum and now…yes, there’s the offending appendix!’ He poked the blade into the heart of the cabbage and twisted it round. ‘Now, let’s get the little devil out and…there! Suture it up and we’re all done!’

  I had been giggling at his antics, but Wendy was laughing aloud. It was infectious, and soon we were falling about helplessly as Edwin performed another operation on the hapless cabbage. Tears of mirth were pouring down our cheeks when William and Deborah appeared in the doorway, chuckling at us in amusement.

  ‘Well, you young people are having fun! But, oh, Edwin! Just look at my cabbage!’

  ‘Sorry, Mum. But you can still eat it. The pieces will just be funny shapes!’ Edwin spluttered.

  ‘I think you lot had better take yourselves into the lounge while your father and I finish off the dinner.’

  ‘No, I’ll stay,’ Wendy insisted, tipping her head pertly at me. ‘You take your coffee up to the lounge and you’ve got your whisky in there, Ed.’

  ‘Yes, go on, you two.’ Deborah flapped her hand at Edwin and me. ‘Go on. Shoo!’

  ‘Oh, well, if you insist, Mum!’

  ‘You’ve come home for a rest,’ she beamed indulgently.

  We sat for half an hour on our own, Edwin and I, chatting easily. I felt relaxed and yet animated, kicking off my shoes and curling up in a chair opposite him while he sipped at his whisky.

  ‘So you were living up at Foggintor where Uncle Artie was born? Amazing.’

  ‘That’s right. All through the winter. It was quite cosy inside once I got used to it. Not having running water was a bit of a shock, mind. But then we moved up to Princetown. But I always came into work on the train every day.’

  ‘Oh yes, it’s a fantastic journey, isn’t it? A wonderful sight, the old steam engine chugging across the moor!’

  ‘And when it looms out of the mist, it’s like some sort of mythical dragon breathing fire and flame, and then it disappears into thin air again!’

  Edwin threw up his head with a chuckle. ‘Yes, I suppose it does. Were you good at English at school? You seem to have a good imagination.’

  ‘Yes, I was quite,’ I admitted a little bashfully at what appeared to be another compliment. ‘My grandmother wanted me to stay on at school, but I wanted to go out to work. But when she died and I came to live here, I’d probably have had to go out to work anyway. I’ve got a reasonable job now, though. But I can’t see that I’ll ever get promoted further.’

  ‘You could always go to evening classes.’

  I raised an eyebrow. ‘Yes, I suppose I could. I hadn’t thought of that. But only if I end up living in Tavistock permanently, and at the moment, I’m not sure what’s going to happen to me.’

  ‘Dinner’s ready!’ Wendy called from the door and skipped away again.

  Edwin unfolded himself from his chair and getting to his feet, offered me his arm. ‘Shall we?’ he said politely. ‘And by the way, you look very fetching,’ he added, his voice low and breathless as I linked my hand through his elbow.

  My fingers tingled at the feel of his arm through the sleeve of his jumper, and my heart winged me to paradise as we went down to the kitchen.

  The intense cold of February had long passed and there was a hint of spring in the air with early daffodils waving their vibrant yellow heads in the long front gardens of Plymouth Road. The weather on Good Friday was pleasant enough for a stroll in the park alongside the disused canal, and we even sat on one of the benches and fed the ducks. Deborah was obviously overjoyed at having her son back home if only for a few days, and was content to sit and listen to him chatting to myself and Wendy. She flitted about the house, clearly spoiling him which he openly acknowledged, returning her affection quite demonstrably.

  After lunch, Edwin went with William to the hospital to visit his in-patients, and when they returned, they shut themselves in the consulting room for a couple of hours discussing medical matters. But over dinner and throughout the evening, the conversation was light and full of banter, and Edwin seemed to pay me a great deal of attention. I was sure he wasn’t just being nice because I was his parents’ house-guest!

  It rained on Saturday, but I was at work anyway. I couldn’t wait to get back and kept looking at my watch all afternoon. I was met by shrieks of hilarity coming up from the kitchen. There was Edwin, his face aglow with merriment as he chased Wendy around the table with Deborah’s wooden spoon covered in cake mixture that he was endeavouring to flick at his sister. I burst out laughing as I was drawn to the doorway.

  ‘Really, you two!’ Deborah was attempting to reprimand them through her own guffaws. ‘Don’t you waste any! We all gave up our margarine rations for that cake, including poor Lily!’

  Edwin stopped in his tracks, his face split in a grin as he saw me. ‘Did you really, Lily? Oh, that was kind! Thank you!’ He bent down and deposited a fat kiss on my cheek before dancing back to the table and replacing the spoon in the mixing bowl. ‘Come on, Lily! Have a stir and make a wish! Isn’t that what you do with cakes?’

  ‘That’s Christmas puddings, isn’t it?’ I grinned back.

  His face fell and he looked so crestfallen that I couldn’t help but chuckle. ‘Oh, well, never mind. Do it anyway!’ he instructed.

  I did. And two guesses what I wished for!

  The rain didn’t let up all night. I heard it battering against the window as I turned over in bed and went back to dreaming about Edwin, my young heart running over with the new and elated emotion of my first real love. And the joy of it was that Edwin appeared to be returning my feelings. I kept patting my cheek where he had kissed me.

  His youngest sister, Celia, arrived from the hospital early on Sunday morning, her umbrella dripping all over the tiles in the conservatory. She ran into the hall like a whirlwind and hugged Edwin tightly. She had only seen him fleetingly at the hospital, she declared, and could hardly demonstrate her sibling affection in the middle of the ward, could she? Especially when she was carrying a used bedpan! Deborah’s parents, whom I’d met once before, arrived next from their little cottage at Newton Ferrers, and, not unexpectedly, sat down to a long and lively chat with their grandson who they hadn’t seen since the previous summer.

  The evening before, Edwin had drawn me aside, his jovial smile fading to the serious expression he had borne when I had first met him. In a way, I was glad. It was great to know how to let one’s hair down, but life is a serious business. No one knew that more than I did, so it was gratifying to see that side of Edwin’s character again. A perfect balance, and I loved him even more for it.

  ‘You know Uncle Artie’s bringing my Auntie Mary tomorrow?’ he began gravely. ‘She’s Dad’s proper sister, not half like Uncle Artie.’

  I nodded. ‘Yes. Your mum told me. She said her husband – your Uncle Michael, I think she said – is a captain in the Merchant Navy and he’s away at sea, so he can’t come.’

  ‘That’s right. He’ll be retiring soon, though. But,’ Edwin paused, his eyes solemn so that I could see the professional doctor in him, ‘did Mum tell you about their sons?’

  I instinctively knew he was going to impart something sad to me and I felt cold inside. ‘No, she didn’t. I think she was about to, but the phone rang.’

  ‘Ah, well. Anyway,’ he said, dropping his voice further, ‘my cousin Dick was in the Royal Navy and was killed in forty-three.’

  A barb of sorrow pierced somewhere a
round my heart and I felt that little knot in my throat. ‘How dreadful,’ I croaked. It really was horrible and brought the anguish home to me yet again. The darkness of war. So close. Once it had only been the loss of my father – or grandfather John as I now knew him to be – that had broken my child’s heart. How Ellen had been so strong, I would never know, especially when before that she had kept hidden her grief over my mother and brothers, and nearly myself, for heaven’s sake. The boy, then, whose bed I had slept in when I had lived with Sidney. And now it was Edwin’s cousin. Another young life wasted.

  ‘Yes, it was.’ Edwin frowned and I saw the hurt in his eyes. ‘They only live in Plymouth, so Dick and I saw a lot of each other as children and really got on well, although he was that much older than me. And Neil, too.’

  I shuddered. ‘The other brother? He wasn’t…as well?’

  The idea filled me with horror, but to my utter relief, Edwin shook his head. ‘No. But he was in the Navy, too. In the far east. He met an Australian girl out there and now they live in Sydney. A bit like Joanna, only Australia’s further away than America. So, anyway, we don’t talk about the boys unless Auntie Mary does. Just thought I’d warn you.’

  ‘Oh, yes. I’m glad you did.’

  Edwin smiled appreciatively. ‘I knew you’d understand.’

  Our eyes met and I had that exquisite feeling of a moment shared, even if it hadn’t been a happy one. ‘Appalling, isn’t it?’ I almost whispered. ‘There are people like you and your father dedicating your lives to saving people when the rest of the world has spent six years trying to kill each other. Thank God it’s over.’

  ‘Well, let’s hope it stays that way. We’ve already had Korea since. Talking of which—’

  But he never got any further as Wendy burst into the room asking something about fish paste sandwiches and cream crackers.

  ‘It’s good to see you again, little maid!’ Artie greeted me when he arrived with Auntie Mary the following morning. ‘But I were sorry to hear about your father. But,’ he paused, his face brightening, ‘we’re here to celebrate young Edwin’s birthday. How are you, lad? Good to see you! And I hear you two are getting on well together?’

  I wasn’t sure if he meant Edwin and me or Wendy and me. In my mind, I was convinced it was Edwin, and my cheeks flushed hotly. But everyone was nattering away nineteen to the dozen. A hubbub of conversation filled every corner of the room, and I was drawn hither and thither as if the party was as much in my honour as Edwin’s.

  Later on, we pushed back the chairs and played frivolous games such as charades and passing a balloon from between each others’ knees. Everyone enjoyed the jollifications, even Auntie Mary without her husband and surviving son. William had a gramophone in the lounge, larger and with a better sound than mine. The men rolled back the carpet and we cavorted up and down as we danced the Gay Gordons and the Lambeth Walk. Edwin and Wendy had us all in fits with an impromptu and melodramatic version of the tango, and Deborah’s mother surprised everyone by performing the Charleston with amazing energy. When William put on a waltz and Edwin took my hand, my pulse missed a beat. He held me close, and I melted against him. Edwin’s eyes were deep and intent when he smiled down at me, his mouth in a soft curve, before he whisked me round in a magical, dreamlike spin. I wished it would go on for ever.

  Chapter Twelve

  ‘Could I possibly borrow the car this afternoon, please, Dad?’ Edwin asked at lunch the following day, Easter Monday. ‘The weather’s so much nicer today and I’d love to go up on the moor before I go back to London. Uncle Artie was talking yesterday about Foggintor, and I’d like to see it again. Haven’t been there for years.’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ William nodded as he swallowed a mouthful of the party leftovers. ‘Drop me off at the hospital on the way, though, would you? I need to check on some patients. No peace for the wicked, eh?’

  ‘Thanks, Dad. Anybody else like to come?’ Edwin enquired expectantly glancing round the table. ‘Mum?’

  Deborah released a weighty sigh. ‘To be honest, I’m a bit jaded after yesterday. I think I’d rather put my feet up and read a book. But take Lily. You miss the moor, don’t you, Lily dear?’

  Mention of the moor reminded me of the question of my future, and doubt swooped like a raven across the sunshine that had blazed inside me ever since Edwin’s arrival. ‘Yes, I do. But not so much living here, though, as I will if they make me go to a children’s home in Plymouth.’

  ‘Actually, Lily,’ William said, his eyes twinkling, ‘we’ve been talking about it, and we’d like you to stay with us permanently. We love having you, and you fit in so perfectly. So?’ He leant forward in his chair. ‘What do you say?’

  For a few seconds, I didn’t say anything! I was dumbfounded. My brain attempted vainly to formulate some words, but any sound I made stuck in my throat. My wide eyes moved around the four faces that were staring at me in anticipation.

  ‘Oh. Well. Yes!’ The answer finally stumbled out of my mouth. ‘That would be…wonderful!’

  ‘Jolly good. That’s settled then. Now, is there any more trifle left, Deborah?’

  My stunned mind was beginning to work again. ‘Are you sure? I mean…it’s an awful imposition.’

  ‘Not at all. We’ve asked you. And it would satisfy the welfare people. So now everyone’s happier. Particularly Wendy.’

  ‘Oh, I can’t thank you enough!’

  It was as if a sudden light had shone its way into the dark uncertainty of my future, illuminating every deep, worrying crevice. The Franfields were already like family, and what was more, I would see Edwin whenever he came home! The stars were certainly shining down on me that day!

  ‘You going to come with us this afternoon, Sis? We can have a nice long walk if the weather holds.’

  Beside me, Wendy pulled a face. ‘You know me and walking. We don’t really mix. No. You take Lily. I’m sure she’ll enjoy it far more than me.’

  My heart gave a bound. Edwin and I, walking on the moor together. Just the two of us. Oh, it would be heaven!

  Joy flowed through my veins as Edwin parked the car just off the road by the track that leads past Yellowmeade Farm to Foggintor. I was effervescent, almost foolish in my euphoria at being not just up on my beloved moor again but alone with Edwin. Though the air had been still down in Tavistock, here it was, inevitably, rushing round us the instant we got out of the car, pulling at my hair and whipping it about my face. Edwin laughed at my futile efforts to tie on a headscarf to keep it in place, and I wished I’d brought a rubber band with me to put it in a ponytail. Edwin’s own fair curls were being buffeted into his eyes, for though his hair was cut militarily short at the back, it was long and Brylcreemed down at the front. But the Dartmoor wind was having none of that! I took off my shoes and put on my Wellingtons, tucking my trousers inside them. I had deliberately never acquired a pair of proper walking boots as my blunt saviour I now knew to be Edwin’s friend, Daniel, had advised. It seemed a way of snubbing him and paying him back for his rudeness. Not that he ever knew. So I fastened the toggles of my duffel coat and off we went.

  I realised then how I had missed the pure, clean feel of the wind, the familiar scent of peat in my nostrils, and the immense panoramas down over the moor to the indistinct shadow of the Cornish hills. We walked along the track past the ruins of other quarrymen’s dwellings that had been known as Red Cottages. But there was no sadness in my heart as there sometimes was when I imagined what life must have been like in that remote community in the past. Today I felt I could fly! Barry Coleman and his son-in-law were working on their tractor when we passed, and we stopped to chat. They vaguely knew Edwin through Artie, of course, but hadn’t clapped eyes on him for years.

  ‘You was a mere little tacker last time I saw you!’ Barry proclaimed with a grin. ‘And now look at you! And as for you, young maid, I be proper pleased for you.’

  ‘Thank you. But you were always so kind to me, and I do miss living on the moor, I have to say.
’

  ‘Well, you knows where we are, like!’

  We bade them farewell and waved back as we walked further along the track. It would have been perfect if Edwin had taken my hand. He didn’t. But I suppose that would have been too much to expect. All I knew was that Edwin liked me, and I was rocked in a comforting cradle. There was plenty of time, and I was sure that a deep and lasting love would develop between us. For now, I was supremely happy.

  My insides, though, lurched when we came up to the dismal sight of the derelict cottages where I had lived with Sidney. Edwin, too, stopped in his tracks and shook his head.

  ‘Golly, it all looks so different. Not that I’ve been up here since I was a kid. Look, that’s the cottage where Uncle Artie was born. Or what’s left of it. Which one was yours?’

  ‘This one.’ I pointed to the separate row to one side. ‘Can you imagine waking up to this view every day? And waving to the train?’

  Edwin made a sucking noise between his teeth. ‘Unbelievable. And here, on the end, this was a little chapel. Once upon a time, it used to double up as a school. My grandmother used to teach there.’

  ‘Really? I didn’t know that.’

  ‘Oh, yes. Up until Uncle Artie was born. Then there wasn’t a teacher here for some time. They used the Mission Hall for a bit, and then they built the proper school.’

  ‘And now that’s disused. And some of those children will have fought and died in the war.’

  ‘Sadly, yes, they probably did. That’s history for you. But let’s not be morose. It’s my last day.’ He took my hand, and the sensation sparkled up my arm. ‘We’ll cross the railway line and walk over the top to Swell Tor. Don’t fall into the quarry, mind. I’m not sure my medical skills are up to that yet!’