Soldier's Daughter, The

by Goodwin, Rosie

  It still felt strange to see the lights of Penzance and Poldak glowing in the dark after the years of darkness. But even now she continued to feel as if she was still fighting a private war in a darkness of her own. Only the night before, she had overheard Sebastian ranting at his mother again; he was probably after yet another hand-out but funds must surely be running low now. All the years she had lived here, it had been the same scenario.

  To her dismay, she had got up this morning to find her grandmother still sitting in the chair. Marion clearly hadn’t been to bed and she looked so ill and confused that Briony couldn’t help but feel sorry for her.

  Lately, Mrs Frasier had taken to wearing evening gowns and long silk gloves that reached right up her arms. They were terribly out of date and Briony suspected that they were the ones she had worn when Lois and Sebastian were children. From things her own mother had told her, Briony knew that her grandparents had enjoyed an active social life back then, so she presumed that she had dug the dresses out from somewhere. They hung on her thin frame now and smelled of mothballs. This, added to the unpleasant odour of her unwashed body, was not a nice combination – but what could she do about it? She could hardly drag her off to the bathroom and force her to wash. She’d fetch a basin filled with warm water and try to clean her up – unless the woman tipped it over, as she had done before!

  Even so, Briony was concerned enough to telephone the surgery. Dr Restarick had called at The Heights earlier that morning.

  ‘There doesn’t seem to be anything physically wrong with your grandmother,’ he had told Briony after examining the old lady. ‘But you’ve probably already guessed that she is suffering from senility.’

  ‘Oh, I see. So what can be done for her?’ Briony asked anxiously.

  ‘Nothing, I’m afraid. As she deteriorates she’s going to need round-the-clock nursing. Either that or there are homes where she could go.’

  ‘Oh!’ The news hit Briony like a hammer blow. There was no way she could see Sebastian caring for his mother – and that left only herself, with occasional help from Mrs Dower. There had never been any love lost between herself and her grandmother, but she was still family at the end of the day – so what was she to do?

  Briony was still pondering the dilemma now as she stood staring at the flames from the huge bonfires painting the night clouds orange. Now that the war was over she had planned to find somewhere for her and the children to live, and a job so that she could support them. But now it looked as if she might have to stay here for a while longer. There was nothing to go back to Nuneaton for, and the children were happy and settled. Alfie, now a bright-eyed mischievous ten-year-old, spent every moment he could helping Howel on the farm, and Sarah, who had turned out to be very bright academically, was already planning a career as a teacher. The Red Cross were still trying to locate Mabel’s mother, but as yet without success. Briony tried not to think about that too much. The child was part of the family now and shadowed Alfie everywhere he went. He was obviously her hero and Mrs Dower often joked that they were meant for each other. Briony knew that if Mabel went back to London, Alfie would be devastated, because he adored her too – which was why she tried to push thoughts of the girl leaving to the back of her mind.

  Heaving a big sigh, she went back the The Heights. She would speak to Sebastian about his mother’s condition when he chose to put in an appearance again before making a decision about their futures.

  Over the next weeks the young men who had gone away to fight the war slowly began to return, some still in uniform, others wearing ill-fitting standard issue ‘demob’ suits. Even without the suits the boys returning home were easily recognisable because of their pale faces and short back and sides.

  Women waited with their hair freshly curled, and dolled up in their Sunday best – and the excitement in the air was palpable. Others, less fortunate, sat at home and wept for the loved ones who would never return.

  And then in mid-September, Martha Brindley wrote to say that Ruth had given birth to a baby girl, three weeks premature.

  She’s a right bonny little thing, and both mother and baby are doing well. They’re going to call the lass Molly. My first grandchild! Our Ernie is like a cat that got the cream. He can’t do enough for the baby. He’s got a new job, working in the post office and seems happy as Larry though his leg still gives him gyp. But at least he came home, which is more than a lot did. Me, Charlie and Tigger are settling in at his house and he treats me like a queen, so I can’t grumble. We were sorry you couldn’t make it to the wedding but understand why, what with your grandma being ill and having the children to look after. Still, let’s hope we see each other again soon, eh? There’ll always be a welcome here for you all.

  Briony had been wondering how she would feel when she got the news that Ruth’s baby had arrived, but surprisingly she felt nothing but joy for them all. As yet, she still hadn’t told anyone about Ernie’s marriage but now for the first time she felt that she could do so when the time was right. Ernie was a part of her past now, and for the children’s sakes she had to look to the future.

  On a cold blustery morning in late November as Briony was clearing up in the kitchen, she glimpsed a figure through the window walking slowly up the drive. There was something about it that looked vaguely familiar, although for the life of her she couldn’t put her finger on what it was. She shrugged and carried on putting things away. It was probably one of Sebastian’s friends, although most of them usually arrived after dark in flashy cars or in large vans that they then unloaded into the locked barn. She had still never so much as set foot in the place and had no wish to do so, because of the coffins stored there. During the summer the smell issuing from inside when she walked past had almost taken her breath away, and she dreaded to think of the rotting haybales that must be causing it. She knew that there was little chance of her uncle cleaning it out and she simply avoided going anywhere near it. No doubt Sebastian was up to no good, but as long as he left her and the children in peace, she didn’t much care. They merely tolerated each other, and that suited her just fine.

  She was just about to begin washing up when a shadow passed the window. Wiping her hands on her apron she crossed to the door and opened it . . . and when she saw who it was standing there, the world seemed to rock and she had to grasp the door handle for support.

  She screwed her eyes tight shut, but when she opened them again he was still there – and now she began to cry, great shuddering sobs that shook her whole body.

  ‘Dad!’ And then they were in each other’s arms and he was cradling her tenderly. By some wonderful miracle, James Valentine had come back to them – and she knew that she could face anything life cared to throw at her now.

  After hauling him over the doorstep they stared at each other, both shocked at the changes they saw. When he had gone away Briony had been a pretty young teenager, but standing before him now was a very beautiful, mature young woman.

  She in turn saw a gaunt man who barely resembled the handsome, healthy father she had held in her heart – apart from his eyes, that was, which were still that wonderful deep blue colour that had always reminded her of a summer sky. He was dressed in the familiar demob grey pinstripes and his hair, which had once been jet-black, just like her own, was now snow-white. He was so thin that he looked almost skeletal, his skin was sallow too and he looked frail and ill, but she didn’t care. Now that he was home she would soon make him well again.

  ‘We . . . we got a telegram telling us that you were missing, presumed dead,’ she managed to stutter.

  ‘I was in a Japanese prisoner-of-war camp called Changi, in Singapore, until a few weeks ago, and there was no way of getting word to you,’ he told her, still clinging to her hand. It was as if he was afraid that if he let her go, she might vanish into thin air.

  She shuddered. The newspapers had been full of the atrocities men had been forced to endure in those places, and now she understood why he looked so ill.

  ‘Oh
, Dad!’ She led him to a chair and made him sit down, suddenly wondering if he knew about her mother’s death. How was she going to tell him?

  But as if reading her mind he said quietly, ‘I went back home. It was quite a shock, I don’t mind telling you, to find someone else living in our house. But Ernie and Ruth next door found me and let me stay with them until I was strong enough to come here.’ His eyes welled with tears then as he told her, ‘They filled me in on everything that’s happened.’

  ‘You know about Mum then? And Sarah having polio?’

  ‘Yes. I thought you might show me where mum’s buried in the churchyard when you have time so that I can visit it and take some flowers. But first I have to find somewhere to stay locally and get myself some clothes. It seems Mrs Brindley gave all my stuff to the WVS when she emptied the house for you, and all I have at present is what I’m stood up in.’

  Perplexed, Briony chewed on her lip. There was no way her grandmother or Sebastian would allow James Valentine to stay here, despite the fact that there was plenty of room, and yet she hated the thought of them being separated again.

  The kitchen door barged open then, and Mrs Dower bustled inside – but seeing that Briony had a visitor she said hastily, ‘Oh sorry, my little maid. I didn’t mean to interrupt.’

  ‘It’s all right,’ Briony answered. ‘Mrs Dower, this is my father!’

  The woman looked flabbergasted. ‘What? Is it really you, Mr Valentine? I thought you had been killed.’

  ‘We thought he had, but he’s been in a prisoner-of-war camp in Japan.’

  ‘Well, bless my soul!’ the woman spluttered as she came forward with her hand outsretched and a broad smile on her face. ‘Welcome home, my dear! It’s nothing short of a miracle!’ Then, eyeing him up and down, she said sympathetically, ‘I didn’t recognise you for a minute there. You must have had a bad time of it.’

  The haunted look in his eyes gave her the answer.

  ‘But where will you be staying?’ she asked solicitously. ‘I can’t see that one in there letting you stay here. She has never forgiven you for taking Lois away, as you already know.’

  ‘Oh, I dare say I’ll find somewhere in the village that will put me up,’ he said tiredly.

  ‘You’ll do no such thing,’ she told him bossily. ’You can come and stay with us at Kynance Farm. By the look of you, you need feeding up and a damn good rest, Mr Valentine.’

  He looked slightly embarrassed. ‘Well, that’s very kind of you, Mrs Dower, and I really appreciate the offer, but I wouldn’t want to put you to any trouble.’

  ‘If it was any trouble, I wouldn’t have asked you, would I?’ she said stoically. ‘And please call me Annik. Is your luggage down at the station?’

  ‘Well, actually no. As I was just saying to Briony before you came in, I have to find some clothes from somewhere, which won’t be easy with them still being on ration. It’s been quite a shock, getting used to England again after all this time. I’d forgotten how chilly it can get.’

  ‘I can help you out there and all,’ she smiled. ‘I reckon you’re about the same height as Howel so he can loan you some togs to tide you over – though looking at you, they’ll hang off you like a clothes-prop. But it’s nothing that a bit of good homemade Cornish food can’t put right.’

  Glancing towards Briony, who was alternating between sobbing and laughing, she beamed.

  ‘It’s good to see that lovely maid of yours so happy,’ she said with great affection. ‘She’s had more than enough to put up with since you went away. Still, let’s hope this is the start of happier times for all of us.’

  But the happier times came to a halt temporarily when Sebastian suddenly strolled into the kitchen, saying, ‘Did I see someone coming down the drive a short wh—’ He stopped abruptly – as recognition dawned – and his mouth drew into a thin line.

  ‘What the hell are you doing here, Valentine?’ he hissed. ‘I don’t know how you’ve got the nerve to show your ugly face here! I thought you were dead – you certainly look half-dead – and I hope you haven’t come here expecting free lodgings too!’

  Something in Briony snapped, and her hands balled into fists as she ground out, ‘How dare you say that! I have never had free lodgings off you, even though this is my grandparents’ house. I’ve done the work of two women since I came here, and have been treated as a skivvy. What’s more, your mother has our ration books, which covers the cost of our food. I’ve told you this before! You are lucky to have us here!’

  ‘Women looking for work are two a penny,’ he shot back. ‘And mind your mouth, young lady, or you just might find yourselves out on the street.’

  ‘Throw her out, and we’ll go with her!’ Mrs Dower told him hotly. ‘And then what will you do, eh? Who will farm the land and look after your mother?’

  His mouth clamped shut at that, and she nodded. ‘That’s right, you ungrateful devil, you just think on! And don’t you dare say a word about James. He’s a hero, unlike some filthy cowards I could mention, and he’ll be staying with me!’

  Dark colour flooded into Sebastian’s cheeks and turning about he strode away with his hands clenched.

  Satisified, Mrs Dower turned back to James, saying, ‘That told him, didn’t it? But come on now – forget about your so-called brother-in-law. A little drop of my fish soup will keep you going until I can get you settled back at the farm. You look all in. Then Briony can bring the children over to see you on their way back from school.’ She grinned, imagining their faces when Sarah and Alfie saw the father they thought they had lost forever. It made her believe that there was a God, after all, although He had sorely tried her belief through the war.

  Chapter Forty-One

  James never came to The Heights again, but Briony frequently visited him at the farm and slowly he began to resemble the man he had been before he went away to war. He could only eat small amounts, due to years of starvation and disease, but he eventually gained weight and grew a little stronger, although Briony would see that haunted look in his eyes again and know without him saying a word that he was thinking of the comrades who had not survived the camp, and of his beautiful wife Lois, another victim of the terrible war. Mrs Dower fussed over him like a mother hen, not allowing him to do any work as yet, although she would always encourage him to go out for a gentle stroll to the churchyard, which he did frequently, to visit his wife’s grave and talk to her.

  The war was well and truly over, but rationing was still strictly in force. Thankfully the people of Poldak had not suffered from lack of food, although for some time they had been forced to find alternative fuel for their fires since coal had become like gold dust. But then they counted themselves lucky, and everyone knew that it might take many years for the country to get back on its feet.

  Even so, as Christmas 1945 approached the children were excited. Alfie and Sarah had been overjoyed to see their father and even Mabel had taken to him. But then James had always had a way with children.

  ‘Just one more week to go,’ Briony said. She was rolling pastry at the table for some early mince pies when she noticed that Mrs Dower seemed rather preoccupied.

  ‘Is anything wrong?’ she asked, clapping her floury hands together.

  ‘Yes, my bird, there is.’ Annik Dower sniffed to hold back tears. ‘Howel informed me and his father that as soon as Christmas is over, he’s going to talk to some of the lads who’ve returned safely to Penzance, to see who’s best suited to take his place on the farm. He’ll be off then. But there you go,’ she said on a sob. ‘My grandson is a grown man, and if he’s made his mind up, there’s nothing I can do to stop him. It’s going to break all of our hearts.’

  Briony felt as if someone had thumped her in the stomach. ‘But how will we manage without him?’ she asked, unable to keep the distress from her voice.

  Mrs Dower shrugged sadly. ‘Same as all the other women had to manage without their menfolk when they went off to war.’

  That night, when she sat alo
ne in the kitchen, Briony’s mind ticked over the news. Somehow she couldn’t imagine life without Howel in it now. She had got used to seeing his cheery face each morning and had always known that he would be there for her in a crisis. And who would take her to the dances in Poldak when he was gone? Admittedly she had more than her fair share of admirers, especially since the young men had started returning from the war – but none of them could hold a candle to Howel as far as she was concerned.

  Sighing, she started to switch off the lights downstairs and it was then that the familiar sound of raised voices reached her from the sitting room. Sebastian was harassing his mother again. Briony hurriedly climbed the stairs in the main hallway, hoping that she wouldn’t be heard, picking up a pair of high-heeled shoes on the way. Mrs Frasier had a habit of dropping her clothes wherever she took them off these days, and there was often a trail leading to her bedroom. Briony decided she would light the paraffin stove in her grandmother’s bedroom as she did each night for her, to heat the ice-cold room, and then leave them to it.

  Sebastian was simmering with anger as he stared down at the bank-book his mother had just handed him.

  ‘What the fuck do you mean, this is all that’s left?’ he raged.

  The old woman’s head wagged from side to side in distress. ‘It’s true,’ she said shakily. ‘That bit and the income from the funeral parlour and the farm is all we have now.’

  Sebastian was incensed. What was he supposed to do? He owed money left, right and centre – and this piddling amount wouldn’t last him for five minutes. Turning on his heel, he slammed out of the room and stormed up to his bedroom. A little later, he heard footsteps on the landing – his mother going to bed, no doubt. And that was when it came to him in a blinding flash.

  He was the sole heir to all that his mother owned – and with her out of the way, everything would be his. Trouble was, there wasn’t a lot of money left – but there was the house, which he knew was worth a small fortune, and if it were to burn down with his mother in it, he would get the insurance money. He could sell the funeral business and the farms then, and he need never set foot in this back-of-beyond place again.