by Tania Crosse
I knew my lips had firmed to a thin line and I met Sister’s surprised gaze before I spun on my heel and marched back down the suddenly hushed ward.
‘Lily, please! I’m sorry!’ I heard Daniel call as the doors swung shut behind me.
Chapter Twenty
‘For God’s sake, get me out of this place, Ed. It’s driving me mad. I want to go home.’
‘Sorry, old chap. No can do. Absolutely not.’
I hadn’t been cross with Daniel for long. After her visit, Gloria had reported that the poor lad was far from himself. She was such a kind and compassionate lady, and I had started thinking back on some of the things she had said. I would know when the time was right to search through the box in the attic. My life was changing again and somehow, I couldn’t explain it, but since Daniel’s accident, I was beginning to feel stronger.
And then a few days later, Edwin had said that Daniel was asking for me and I felt ashamed. I confessed to Edwin that the last time I had been to see Daniel, I had found him somewhat difficult. Edwin had explained that it was still the combined effect of the concussion and the drugs, and that we would all need to be patient with him. And he added with a whimsical lift of his eyebrows that Daniel had always been able to dig his heels in when he wanted to. I had nodded, sucking in my lips. But more because dear Edwin was being so kind and understanding. I knew that whatever happened in the future, part of me would always love him.
So I had gone back to see Daniel and he had greeted me with a sheepish smile.
‘Thank you for coming, Lily,’ he said at once. ‘I just wanted to apologise. Apparently I’ve been abominably rude to everyone, yourself included. And Ed tells me you’ve been looking after Trojan for me, so I wanted to thank you for that.’
I frowned in bemusement. ‘But we’ve talked about Trojan before. Several times.’
‘Have we?’
‘Well, yes. And Gloria said you—’
‘Gloria?’ His eyes widened incredulously. ‘Gloria’s been here?’
‘Yes,’ I answered guardedly.
Daniel rubbed his hand over his eyes and then winced slightly as his fingers touched the livid bruise on his forehead. ‘God, I don’t remember. I can remember yesterday quite clearly, but everything before that’s a complete and utter haze.’
‘We’ve had some quite lucid conversations,’ I told him gently.
‘So they tell me. And in which I’ve behaved unforgivably. So I just wanted to say sorry and…’ He paused, and I noticed the rise and fall of his prominent Adam’s apple as he swallowed hard. ‘And I’ll understand if you don’t come again.’
He had turned his head away, averting those troubled eyes, and I had been engulfed in remorse. ‘I’m sorry, too, Daniel,’ I had said, glad that I could find the courage to match his. ‘I was still upset, and I didn’t realise… I thought you were being…’ I had broken off abruptly, realising I was about to put my foot in it again.
‘My usual belligerent self?’ he had suggested with a half smile.
I grinned back. ‘Yes. We always seem to rub each other up the wrong way, don’t we?’
He chuckled, and instantly drew a pained breath through his teeth. His eyes screwed shut for a moment. When he opened them again, he was smiling. ‘Will you come again, then? Only don’t make me laugh. It hurts too much.’
‘I promise. To come again, I mean. And I will try not to make you laugh, but don’t be cross with me if I do.’
‘I could never be cross with you, Lily.’
And I had felt his gaze following me as I left the ward.
And so I had gone to visit him every day, even if it had only been for a few minutes. He was improving but, as predicted, progress was slow. Without the morphine, he was in too much pain to sleep and dark smudges shadowed his eyes. But when Edwin and I called into the ward after the orthopaedic clinic exactly two weeks to the day since the accident, he was looking brighter, lying on top of the bed rather than between the sheets. His expression was so crestfallen, though, at Edwin’s refusal to discharge him, that my own heart dropped like a lead weight.
‘Oh, please, Ed,’ he begged, his eyes doleful. A little like Trojan when he wanted a titbit from the table, I mused.
‘No.’ Edwin crossed his arms as if to emphasise his words. ‘It’s completely out of the question. Your family are going home on Sunday, so there’d be no one to look after you.’
‘Are they?’ I put in. ‘I didn’t realise.’
Daniel closed his eyes fleetingly as he sighed with dismay. ‘Yes, they are. Dad feels he needs to get back to his investments, and Mum won’t stay at Fencott without a man. An able-bodied one,’ he added ruefully. ‘Anyway, she fusses so much we’d end up having words. So that only leaves Gran. She’d stay up there alone, but she doesn’t drive so that really isn’t practical.’
‘What about Great Uncle Joshua and your relations at Peter Tavy?’ Edwin suggested. ‘Could you stay with them?’
Daniel puffed out his cheeks. ‘That doesn’t seem very fair on them, and they’ve got the farm to run.’ He gazed down at his feet for a second before his mouth knotted mutinously and he flashed an angry scowl at Edwin. ‘Damn it, Ed. I can take care of myself. Look, I’ve mastered the crutches—’
He swung his legs, plaster cast and all, over the side of the bed ready to demonstrate, but he must have moved too quickly and caught his ribs. His head fell back in a stifled cry, and then his shoulders dropped in exasperation.
‘There, you see?’ Edwin poked his face at his friend. ‘You’re not ready to be discharged yet. Crutches and broken ribs don’t go together very well, you know.’
Daniel hung his head in dejection and then as he attempted valiantly but in vain to lift his plastered leg back onto the bed without hurting his ribs again, Edwin went to his rescue. I felt so sorry for him that the words tumbled out of my mouth before I knew it.
‘I could come and look after you. I’ve got the week after next off, and I didn’t have any plans for it.’
They both stared at me in astonishment, Daniel’s jaw hanging open so that he looked quite comical. It brought a smile to my face, and I found myself quite enamoured of the idea that had sprung to my mind of its own accord. It would be wonderful once again to open the curtains each morning to the wild beauty of the moor and, perhaps more importantly, I wouldn’t be reminded of Edwin’s engagement every hour of the day and night. The horror of Daniel’s accident had put on hold the plan to move into a place of my own, but I had started to think about it again that very day. A week away from both the hospital and the Franfield home was just what I needed to allow my wounded heart to heal. And if I had to put up with Daniel’s moods, at least it might stop me brooding over my loss of Edwin.
‘Would you? Would you really?’ Daniel’s voice was low as his eyes bore intently into mine, unnerving me in that strange way he so often did.
‘Well, yes. I’d be happy to,’ I said, feeling more confident as I spoke. ‘What do you think, Edwin? Would that fit in?’
‘Yes, it would.’ Edwin still looked surprised. ‘I’d be happy to discharge you in a week with Lily to look after you. And after that, you should be all right on your own. And I think your parents are coming back down then as well. So.’ He pulled in his chin. ‘Can you behave yourself in here for one more week?’
‘Oh, yes.’ A soft light came into Daniel’s eyes as they shifted in my direction. ‘I think I can if you’re dangling a carrot in front of me.’
His expression was so inscrutable that I wasn’t sure if I wanted to slap his face or laugh.
‘Could you…could you stop when we get to where it happened?’ Daniel faltered, his voice like gravel. His joy at leaving the ward had been well evident, and even Sister had whispered in my ear that he was a great lad when you got to know him. But once we had reached the open moor, the car straining in second gear to take the steady incline, he had fallen silent. His eyes had been scanning the rugged landscape, relishing that sense of freedom and peac
e that always invaded my own soul. Or so I had thought. But as I glanced at him for a second, I saw that his face was set like the granite that surrounded us.
‘It’s hard to find from this side of the road,’ I told him, ‘but I’ll try.’
My palms began to ooze sweat as I didn’t know how he might react. That was the thing about Daniel, I supposed. He was so unpredictable, and I didn’t want to start off on the wrong foot. When we came to the spot, I recognised it more easily than I had anticipated, and finding somewhere to pull off the road, I brought the car to a halt. Beside me, Daniel took as deep a breath as his ribs allowed, and his hand reached for the door handle.
‘Oh, Daniel, I don’t think you should. You’ll have to walk on the road and—’
‘I’ve got to, Lily,’ was his grated reply.
I turned off the engine and hurried round to his side of the car to help him, knowing there would be no arguing with him. I made Trojan stay in the back of the car, and then hovered round Daniel as he made his slow and painful way back down the road on his crutches. I was cross with myself for giving in to him, but was more terrified that a car would come down the hill too fast and run him over. A couple of vehicles did approach but as soon as I saw them, I waved frantically and thankfully they slowed down to pass us in safety.
‘Daniel?’ I whispered anxiously, looking up at him as the rumble of the last vehicle died away, leaving the contemplative silence of the moor to encompass us.
Daniel was staring down the boulder-strewn bank at the patches of ploughed turf, the only evidence of the accident. His brow was creased in a deep frown, his mouth compressed into a thin line as without moving his head, his eyes swivelled to gaze at the road.
‘Nothing,’ he mumbled. ‘Not a thing. It’s a complete blank.’
I hesitated, not wanting to deepen his anguish. ‘William said you might never remember. And… does it really matter? We know it wasn’t your fault, and you survived. That’s the important thing.’
My voice had vibrated with a passion that astounded even myself. Daniel’s eyebrows arched in surprise and he blinked his eyes wide at me. The pupils were dilated so that the violet-blue was darkened to indigo. Unsettling me again.
‘Come on. Let’s get you back to the car. I can hear Trojan barking.’
He moved more and more slowly as we climbed back up the road, and I was relieved when we reached the car. The short excursion had clearly exhausted him and he closed his eyes for the remainder of the journey, only opening them again as we turned in at Fencott Place and the gravel crunched beneath the tyres.
‘Here we are, then,’ I said somewhat inanely as I turned off the engine. ‘Is it good to be home?’
He turned liquid eyes on me. ‘You’ll never know how grateful I am, Lily.’
His expression brought me up short and I felt the heat in my cheeks. ‘I’ll go through and open up the front so that you don’t have to walk so far,’ I suggested hastily to cover up my awkwardness. ‘I’m a bit worried you’ve overdone it.’
He grunted. ‘I hope you’re not going to fuss over me.’
I felt the hairs at the back of my neck bristle. ‘I’m here to look after you, but I can assure you I’ve no intention of being your skivvy.’
‘Good.’
An amused glint flashed in his eyes, leaving me swathed in uncertainty as I let myself in through the back of the house. Trojan trotted at my heels, wagging his tail and clearly as pleased as his master to be home. I had driven up the previous evening to collect a set of clothes for Daniel, carefully unpicking the right leg seam of a pair of trousers to fit over his cast. The house had echoed with silence and I was glad I wasn’t going to be there alone. I wondered how Daniel could relish such solitude on a permanent basis.
He was waiting on the other side of the front door and I stood back to let him in.
‘I’ll just bring everything in from the car,’ I said lightly. ‘I did some food shopping after I finished work this morning, and I’ve got a case.’
Daniel cast down his eyes. ‘I feel awful. I should be the one carrying the heavy things.’
‘But then I wouldn’t be here, would I? Come on, cheer up! You’re home. I’ll light the range when I come in. It’ll be funny cooking on a range again. I’d got used to Deborah’s gas cooker. It was like being back in London.’
I left him to hobble inside on his crutches while I went out to the car, but when I came back in, Daniel was standing by the drawing room door, balancing on his good leg and flicking the light switch.
‘Damn it,’ he grumbled. ‘The generator’s gone off.’
‘Oh, no!’ I felt my heart sink. ‘Are you sure it’s not just a bulb?’
‘Unfortunately not. Everything’s off.’
‘So…what do we do?’ I really was beginning to panic. Perhaps coming back here hadn’t been such a good idea after all.
‘Well, we could resign ourselves to groping around by candlelight this evening. It might be romantic, but that isn’t exactly appropriate in our situation, is it? And it isn’t very practical either, with my needing both hands free to get around.’
His tone had been stinging, sarcastic, and I lifted my chin to glare at him. But he had already turned away, swinging the crutches as he made for the back door. Feeling somewhat piqued, I followed him down the passageway in time to see him collect a bunch of keys from the small boot room. Outside on the terrace, it was typical September weather, overcast but the air warm and, thankfully, relatively still. The garden showed signs of its three weeks of neglect, but Daniel obviously kept it well in order and the views over the open moor were exhilarating.
He led the way through a gate in the high wall at the far end to an area I hadn’t seen before. It had clearly once been the stable-yard with a row of wooden loose-boxes and what I imagined was a tack room at one end of the block. There was a huge barn with two sets of massive double doors sealed with giant padlocks, and several smaller outbuildings. The smell of fresh creosote was overwhelming, so I imagined that was what Daniel had been doing just before the accident.
The sight of him struggling to stand on his good leg, hang onto the crutches and unlock the door to the one brick-built shed brought me from my study of the yard. I hurried forward to take the keys from him. We didn’t exchange a word, but he glanced at me in defiance, his cheeks sucked in obstinately.
‘Daniel, you’re going to have to swallow that masculine pride of yours and accept that you need help, or this isn’t going to work you know!’ I told him in no uncertain terms as I opened the door.
His lean jaw dropped slightly as he met my gaze. ‘And you’re going to become an engineer in the next few minutes, are you?’
‘If need be!’ I answered, my head held high.
He gave a short laugh. ‘Well, let’s hope for both our sakes it isn’t necessary. The damned thing,’ he said, jabbing his head at the oil-reeking contraption I assumed was the generator, ‘is supposed to be self-starting. But it’s a temperamental bugger. The times I’ve had to strip it down. Keep your fingers crossed it just needs restarting.’
Behind my back, I did just that. And to my utter relief, God answered my prayers. Despite what I had said, I really didn’t fancy wrestling with the oily monster under Daniel’s supervision. He showed me what to do in case it happened again, and after a couple of attempts, it coughed and spluttered into life.
‘Thank God,’ Daniel muttered vehemently.
‘Amen to that!’
‘At least we agree on something.’
His face was taut and he was looking pale. Concern overtook my indignation and my heart softened.
‘Come on. You look all in. You need to put your feet up and I’ll make you a cup of tea.’
The hard lines about his mouth slackened. ‘Yes, you’re right. Thank you. And, Lily, I don’t mean to fight.’
He smiled, his eyebrows arched as if asking my forgiveness and looking so handsome I would have melted if I hadn’t known him better. He always seemed t
o present me with a challenge, as if he wanted to drive me away. I could do just that, I supposed, turn my back and leave him to it. But something inside me was perpetually ready to fight back.
I left him to struggle back indoors and went ahead to light the range. I had prepared it the previous evening so it didn’t take long to catch. I had discovered there were two fireboxes, but clearly Daniel only used one of them. It heated an oven, a small boiler to one side, and three hotplates which was sufficient for one person or a small family’s needs. I let my imagination run riot, conjuring up visions of a time long past when the house had been full of people, Daniel’s ancestors and their servants, and the entire range had been in full use.
I unpacked the shopping while I waited for the water to boil and took the opportunity to familiarise myself with the contents of the various cupboards and the pantry. When I was finally able to carry two hot drinks into the drawing room, Daniel was stretched out on one of the sofas. I thought he was asleep, but he opened his eyes when he heard me coming.
‘Oh, you’re an angel,’ he said appreciatively, and tried to shift himself into a more upright position.
‘Let me help you.’
‘No, it’s all right, thanks. I can…’ But then his shoulders slumped. ‘Well, no, I can’t actually. Could you put some more cushions behind my back? I’m more comfortable propped up. And…could you get me some codeine, please?’
He lowered his eyes, almost as if he was ashamed. I had been there when Edwin had given him the painkillers to take home. He would probably need aspirin regularly for another week or two. The rib that had punctured his lung had been a bad break and the pain from it would last longer than a non-displaced fracture. It would heal crooked, but apparently that didn’t matter. But the fact that Daniel was asking for the stronger codeine was an admission that the journey home and the sortie to the generator had considerably aggravated his discomfort. It dawned on me then that, since he had emerged from the influence of the concussion and the morphine, I hadn’t heard him complain once about the pain from his injuries.