Soldier's Daughter, The

by Goodwin, Rosie

  Mrs Dower looked sad. She had known the Clarks all her life, though Ned’s death wasn’t entirely unexpected. He had been ill for a long time. ‘Shall I tell her how long you’re likely to be?’ she asked.

  ‘Oh, not long,’ he answered. ‘We’ll chuck him in the morgue and see to him in the morning after I’ve got a coffin out of the barn. I haven’t had time to get any down to the parlour yet and I’m not going to attempt it in the dark.’

  She tutted as he strode towards the barn where the hearse was kept.

  ‘That young man hasn’t got an ounce of compassion in him,’ she muttered. ‘You’d not have heard his father speak so disrespectfully of the dead when he did the job.’

  Glancing at the children, Briony saw that they were looking nervous. All this talk of death was unsettling for them so she told them, ‘Go on up to the bathroom, you two, and have a good wash for me, will you? Remember to brush your teeth. I’ll be up in a minute then to tuck you in and if you’re very good I’ll read you a story.’

  They scuttled away and once they were gone Briony set to and helped Mrs Dower to put the kitchen to rights. The woman was keen to get back to the farm as Talwyn wasn’t so well.

  ‘Her tonsils are right up,’ she told Briony as they washed and dried. ‘She’s prone to tonsillitis and I wish now I’d let the doctors take them out for her when she was a kid. Trouble is, she’s terrified of hospitals, bless her.’

  ‘Then you get off and I’ll finish up here,’ Briony said immediately.

  ‘Right you are then, if you’re sure. I’ll have Howel bring over all you’ll need for tomorrow first thing in the morning. But I’ll still be back to cook the main evening meal just till you’re feeling in the swing of things.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Briony answered gratefully and as Mrs Dower collected her coat and left the kitchen she finished the tidying and made her way upstairs.

  Once again the children were asleep within seconds of their heads touching the pillow, and feeling slightly at a loose end, Briony went back down to the kitchen. The evening stretched endlessly in front of her so she decided to go for a walk. Pulling her coat on, she slipped out into the yard. It was dark now and once again the sky was alight with millions of stars. She headed for the gates and stood there admiring the view of Penzance far below her. The whole place was in darkness because of the blackout but the moon and stars were so bright that it was possible to see almost every building. Moving along, she took the path along the cliff, being careful not to get too close to the edge. Far out to sea she could just make out the shapes of some fishing boats, but there wasn’t a soul in sight and she felt as if she were the only person left in the whole world. The night was turning chilly now so eventually she headed back to the kitchen and was just about to turn into the yard when voices stopped her.

  ‘Come back tomorrow. I haven’t had time to get it yet.’

  Recognising Sebastian’s voice, she peeped around the edge of the barn, keeping to the shadows. The large van that he had arrived in earlier on in the day was there again, as was the unsavoury-looking character who had been driving it.

  ‘Whadda yer mean, yer ain’t had time to get it?’ The man sounded angry and Briony’s heart began to pound. She didn’t know what to do for the best. If she was to move forward now they would see her and it might look as if she had been eavesdropping on them. She decided to stay where she was and flattened herself against the wall of the barn.

  ‘I’ve just told you – I got called out on a job. I had to collect a body and take it to the funeral parlour so I haven’t had time to get the old dear on her own yet. But she’ll cough up, she always does. Your money is as good as in the bank.’

  Briony surmised that the old dear Sebastian was talking about must be her grandmother.

  ‘It’d better be,’ the other man snarled. ‘If I ain’t got that dosh to the guvnor by tomorrow night I wouldn’t wanna be in your shoes.’

  ‘You’ll have it,’ Sebastian replied shortly as the large man turned about and climbed into the cab of the van.

  ‘I’ll be back here at six o’clock sharp tomorrow night,’ he threw from the window and then he started the engine and Briony heard the van drive away. She held her breath until the sound of the engine had faded into the distance, and then cautiously peeped around the corner again. Much to her relief the yard was empty so she quickly picked her way across the cobbles and slipped back into the kitchen.

  Now her mind began to work overtime. Sebastian apparently owed someone money and the man had come to collect it. Suddenly recalling what Mrs Dower had said about her suspicions of Sebastian gambling she wondered if he had perhaps run up another debt. It certainly sounded like it and it had also sounded as if he expected his mother to pay it for him. She poured some milk into a pan and placed it on the stove to heat up. She was feeling tired now and decided that she would have a hot drink before going to bed. Perhaps her grandparents might like one too? Before she could change her mind about asking them she went into the hallway and approached the sitting-room door. Mrs Dower had informed her that the drawing room had been turned into a downstairs bedroom for her grandfather, now that he was no longer able to tackle the stairs, and he would probably have retired for the night, but her grandmother might appreciate a drink. Briony still hadn’t given up hope of winning her round.

  She lifted her hand to knock but then stopped as raised voices came from the other side of the door.

  ‘Oh Sebastian, not again!’ she heard her grandmother wail. ‘Haven’t I explained clearly enough that money is tight at present? And you still haven’t shown me the funeral parlour accounts. You know that I like to keep up to date with them.’

  ‘The accounts are up to date and I’m only asking for fifty pounds, Mother. If you’d let me have access to the safe I wouldn’t have to keep coming to you for every penny I need like a child asking for pocket money.’

  ‘Only fifty pounds,’ the woman groaned. ‘If your father knew, he would be furious, you know he would, and you also know that the only people who have access to the safe are him and me.’ But then, ‘What’s the matter? Oh, darling, is your hand paining you again? Sit down here. I’m sorry I was so sharp with you. I sometimes forget what you’ve been through and of course I’ll give you the money. You do run the shop, after all, but you must promise me that this will be the very last time. I shall get the money out of the safe for you and you shall have it first thing in the morning. But whatever you do, don’t tell your father.’

  Briony turned and tiptoed away with a sombre expression on her face. It seemed as though Sebastian could play his mother like a fiddle. But then it was none of her business and she was only too happy to keep well out of it.

  They woke to another clear, bright day with the sun riding high in a cloudless blue sky. Briony got the children washed and dressed and grinned to herself as they skipped away and she heard them giggling in Sarah’s room. They were still not over the novelty of having a proper bathroom and an inside toilet. It seemed a world away from the outside lav with its little squares of cut-up newspaper and the tin bath they were used to. The bath in this bathroom was cast iron and sat on funny little legs that reminded the children of lion’s feet, and the sink was so large they could almost have swum in it, but they loved it just the same.

  As she got herself ready, Briony glanced at the pile of dirty washing that was building up in the corner of her room. She decided that she would take it all out to the laundry room and wash it after breakfast rather than bother Mrs Dower with it. The other woman had enough to do already without having to add their laundry to her duties. Once she was dressed in a pale-blue cotton dress with a full skirt she brushed her hair until it shone, leaving it to swing loosely down her back, then went to collect the children and shooed them down the stairs.

  Although she had assured Mrs Dower that she could manage breakfast and lunch on her own, Briony was nervous at the thought of having to serve Sebastian and her grandparents. Still it was too late to go bac
k on her word now, so she gave the children a basket each and told them to go and let the chickens out of their coops and collect some eggs for breakfast. They were only too happy to oblige as Briony made the fire up with logs that were piled at the side of it. This was another job that Howel usually did, but she was sure that the children would be happy to take it over if she showed them where the logs were stored.

  She had just put the kettle on when Howel appeared in the doorway loaded down with two enormous wicker baskets. He was so large that his frame blocked out the light but when she looked towards him he smiled pleasantly.

  ‘Morning. Did you sleep well?’

  ‘Very well, thank you.’ She returned his smile. ‘I think it must be all this fresh air. We’re not used to it.’

  Crossing to the table he carefully began to unpack the baskets. In one of them were two fresh loaves, a large jug of milk, still warm from the cow, a dish full of butter and a thick sponge cake oozing jam and cream. In the other there was bacon, sausages and a number of other things that Mrs Dower had thought might come in useful. She had already shown Briony where a selection of food was stored in the pantry but Howel assured her, ‘I shall be bringing the fresh supplies over every morning but should you need anything just get one of the little ones to pop over to the farm. There’s usually one of us about. And you know where all the vegetables are in the kitchen garden, don’t you?’

  Briony nodded. ‘Yes, I do, thanks. In fact, I might go and dig a few up this morning if you don’t mind, then I can make a vegetable soup for lunch. I could use some of the cooking apples from the orchard to bake an apple pie for afters. Your mum said she would still cook the main meal in the evenings for the time being.’

  ‘I could go and fetch the apples for you now,’ he volunteered, but she shook her head.

  ‘No really, the children will enjoy helping me and from what I’ve seen of it, you and your family already do more than enough around this place. I bet you’ve been working already this morning, haven’t you?’

  ‘I have, as it happens. I’ve milked the cows and put them back out to pasture and now I’m going off to clean the pigsties out.’ He chuckled. ‘Not the nicest of jobs, but I think the pigs appreciate it.’

  Briony wrinkled her nose. She was more than happy to help and take some of the jobs over but she wasn’t ready to volunteer for that particular one just yet.

  It was then that a thought occurred to him and he suggested, ‘You could bring the children along to the farm this afternoon if you’ve nothing else planned. I dare say they’d love to see all the animals.’

  ‘Oh, they would,’ Briony agreed, thinking how kind he was. ‘The nearest they’ve ever been to a sheep or a cow is seeing them from the train window on the way here. They’d love it.’

  ‘That’s sorted then. See you later.’ And with a cheery wave of his hand he was off, leaving Briony to start the breakfast.

  The children scampered back in a few minutes later, beaming from ear to ear.

  ‘I found six eggs an’ Alfie found five,’ Sarah informed her proudly, holding out her basket for the eggs to be admired. The hens were clucking in the yard now as Briony smiled her approval.

  ‘Well done, both of you.’

  She made a large pan of porridge although she had to admit it wasn’t quite as nice as Mrs Dower’s, then after serving the children she took some through to the dining room where the rest of the family were assembled.

  Her grandmother didn’t seem overly thrilled with the arrangement although she had grudgingly agreed to it with Mrs Dower. But only for a trial period, of course.

  ‘Where are the children?’ she asked with a sour expression on her face. Today she was dressed in yet another smart two-piece costume, but her hair was still slightly straggly and Briony thought she had a vaguely wild look about her.

  ‘They’re having their breakfast in the kitchen.’

  Her grandfather smiled at her warmly. ‘Perhaps they could start to eat in here with us, Marion?’ he said to his wife.

  She looked affronted at the very idea. ‘I don’t think that is such a good idea, darling. They’re probably much happier in the kitchen with her.’

  The her was pronounced so spitefully that William Frasier frowned as he placed a snow-white napkin across his lap. He wasn’t at all happy about the children being shoved up in the old servants’ quarters as it was. After all, these were their grandchildren, and from what he had seen of them they were very polite and well behaved.

  ‘I suppose Alfred could join us,’ she surprised them all by saying then. ‘I’m thinking of sending him to boarding school when he is a little older and it would be nice if we were able to teach him some proper manners before he went.’

  Briony was so shocked at the suggestion that she almost dropped the jug of milk she was unloading from the tray. Anger seethed through her, and her eyes as she stared at her grandmother were as cold as ice.

  ‘Alfie already has very good manners for a five-year-old,’ she said. ‘And I sincerely hope we won’t be here long enough for you to send my little brother away to boarding school. You would need our mother’s permission to do that anyway.’

  ‘Whilst you are all here under my roof I shall make the decisions on what is best for you,’ the woman answered, her lips set in a thin line.

  ‘Look, perhaps we should continue this discussion at a more appropriate time,’ her grandfather put in hastily, hoping to avoid what looked in danger of turning into a row. Then to Briony: ‘You get back to the children, dear. And the porridge is delicious, by the way.’

  She smiled at him gratefully before walking briskly from the room, slamming the door resoundingly behind her. Well, at least the girl has spirit, her grandfather thought as he studiously avoided his wife’s eyes. He rarely disagreed with her, but on this occasion he had felt she was out of order and needed to be curbed.

  Briony’s temper had simmered down a little by the time she got back to the kitchen, and not wanting to upset the children she smiled at them before starting to fry the bacon and the eggs that they had collected. It was a novelty to have fresh eggs again instead of the disgusting powdered variety they had been forced to eat back at home, and the children cleared their plates, mopping up the sunny yellow yolks with some of Mrs Dower’s wonderful home-baked bread.

  By late morning Briony felt as if she had already done a full day’s work. After struggling with the boiler in the outside laundry room the children’s clothes had been washed and rinsed before being put through the mangle and they were now flapping gently on the line strung across the yard. Mrs Dower had informed her the day before that she took the family’s laundry back to the farm once a week to wash and iron it, so at least Briony knew now that she would only be responsible for her own and the children’s washing, which was a relief. She had an idea that her grandmother wouldn’t have appreciated her doing something as personal as washing her clothes for her. Now the soup that Briony had made was simmering on the stove and the apple pie was browning nicely in the oven.

  She had glimpsed Sebastian briefly, just after breakfast when Morris Page had called to pick him up in a little Austin Seven. She guessed that they would be going to the funeral parlour to prepare the body of the man who had died the night before for burial, and the thought of it made her shudder.

  At lunchtime she served the family their meal and left the dining room as quickly as possible. She had no wish to have another confrontation with Marion Frasier. In fact, she had once more determined to keep out of her way as much as possible in future.

  By mid-afternoon the kitchen and the dining room were gleaming, and Briony looked about with a sense of achievement. The flagstone floor had been scrubbed and she had even washed the windows with vinegar and water – not that she expected her grandmother to notice. The latter was treating her more like a servant than a member of the family.

  But now she wanted to give the children a treat, so stepping out into the yard she called them to her and they set off for
the farm. With luck they would be able to spend a couple of hours there exploring before it was time to come back and help Mrs Dower prepare and cook the evening meal.

  Chapter Nineteen

  ‘I’ve had a letter from the children!’ Lois brandished the envelope in the air as she barged into Mrs Brindley’s kitchen with a rapturous smile on her face. It was mid-afternoon and luckily she was sober, although Martha wasn’t sure how long that state might last. Still, it was nice to see her neighbour smiling so she ushered her to the table.

  ‘Wonderful! Yer could per’aps read it to me while I pour us both a cuppa. It’s been mashed a while so it might be a bit stewed, but at least it’s wet an’ warm, eh?’ Gone were the days when precious tea could be tipped away if their rations were to last for a week.

  Whilst she filled two cups with the dark-brown lukewarm liquid Lois read out the letter.

  ‘Hmm, don’t tell you much, does it?’ the other woman said thoughtfully when Lois had finished. ‘About what sort o’ greetin’ they got from their gran’parents, I mean.’ Then, seeing Lois’s face fall, she added hastily, ‘But then it certainly don’t say anythin’ bad so that must be a good sign, an’ they sound ’appy enough, bless ’em. I dare say yer dyin’ to write back to ’em now.’

  Lois stirred half a spoon of sugar into her drink and grimaced as she sipped it. ‘Yes,’ she agreed. ‘I shall do it just as soon as I get back from work this evening. With any luck I’ll be able to get it in the last post.’

  ‘I might write to ’em an’ all, though I ain’t that good at letter-writin’ an’ me spellin’ is atrocious. Still, at least they’ll know I’m thinkin’ of ’em, won’t they? Mebbe yer could let me slip mine in the envelope wi’ yours? Saves a stamp, don’t it?’

  Lois nodded as she quickly rose and headed for the door, telling her, ‘Of course you can. But I shall have to get off now or I’ll be late for work. See you later, Martha.’

  ‘Bye, luvvie.’ Mrs Brindley lifted the cups and was just carrying them to the sink when her second visitor of the day arrived.