The Best of Daughters (34 page)

‘Wait, please. Don't walk away from me. You would never be called a coward, Rupert.'

He quickened his pace. ‘Go away, Daisy. Leave me in peace.'

She caught up with him at the gate, barring his way. ‘Where are you going?'

‘To my club and I'll dine there this evening. I'm leaving for Dover tomorrow, and I don't want a lot of fuss.' A fleeting smile softened his harsh features and he bent over to brush her lips with a kiss. ‘This is goodbye, Daisy Bell.' He lifted her aside bodily and let himself out of the garden.

She stood for a moment frozen to the spot. Nothing had prepared her for this. Despite the summer heat she was chilled to the bone and shivering. She watched him until he was out of sight, heading for his club in Pall Mall. She felt bereft and desperately sad. Perhaps he had sensed that she had reservations about their marriage? If so she was sending him off to war in the cruellest possible way, and it shocked her to realise how much he really meant to her. She had lost someone who was more than a lover: he was her lifelong friend.

She stood very still, as if frozen to the spot, but she could not face returning to the house and the inevitable interrogation by Lady Pendleton. She had no notion what she would say, or how she would explain Rupert's behaviour to his mother. She spotted an empty seat on the far side of the garden and eventually gathered enough energy to make her way there. She sat down, staring into space, barely noticing the gradual disappearance of the nannies with their young charges, followed eventually by the elderly ladies and gentlemen, who were no doubt returning to their comfortable homes for afternoon tea or to take a nap before changing for dinner.

Sparrows pecked in the dust around her feet and pigeons waddled about on the grass seeking out the odd worm and insect. Eventually, when a robin landed on the bench at her side, cocking its head and staring at her as if silently asking her why she was still here, she came to her senses and rose to her feet. The small bird flew up into a tree to perch on an overhanging branch and it seemed to wink at her. Its cheeky stance
brought a reluctant smile to her face. She was shocked and saddened, but life would go on. Her heart ached for Rupert and she wished that there was something she could do to help him, but she knew him only too well. The Pendletons had a stubborn streak and once he had made up his mind there was only a slim chance that he might have a change of heart.

She made her way slowly back to Pendleton House. Sedgwick opened the door and she could tell by the expression on his lined face that he had already guessed the truth. He had known Rupert since the day he was born and had watched him grow to manhood. There was little or nothing that happened in the Pendleton household that escaped Sedgwick's shrewd eye, and Daisy felt that here at least she had an ally. ‘Mr Rupert will be dining at his club this evening, Sedgwick,' she said softly.

His gaze never wavered from her face, but he inclined his head slightly. ‘Exactly so, Miss Lennox. Lady Pendleton is in the drawing room if you would care to join her. I'll instruct Betsy to bring a fresh pot of tea.'

‘Thank you, Sedgwick. I'll go to my room first, but I'll be down shortly.'

Dinner that evening was a sombre affair. Lady Pendleton was visibly upset by her son's absence and she confessed to being worried about him. Daisy tried to reassure her but even to her own ears her words sounded hollow. They took coffee in the drawing room but it was obvious that Lady Pendleton's thoughts
were elsewhere and she excused herself early, saying that she had some letters to write. Daisy was left in solitary state amongst the priceless antiques and elegant furnishings, but she felt uncomfortable and out of place. This was not a home, it was a mausoleum filled with precious artefacts but it had no soul. It was little wonder that Rupert felt more at ease in a gentlemen's club than in his parents' town house. She found herself wishing that she was back in Rainbow's End. The old building might be in danger of tumbling down and it boasted none of the modern amenities, but its welcoming atmosphere always wrapped itself around her like a warm hug. Daisy felt suddenly homesick. The only possible course open to her was to return to Nutley Green on the first available train next morning. She went to bed early but sleep evaded her. She could only think of Rupert and worry about him. He was in desperate need of help, but there was nothing she could do to heal wounds that were mental rather than physical. She fell asleep just as dawn was breaking and was awakened some time later by Betsy, who brought her a cup of tea and offered to run her bath.

At breakfast, when Daisy asked if Parkin might drive her to Liverpool Street station, Lady Pendleton begged her to stay for another day at least. ‘It's bad enough that Rupert has such a short leave. I've no idea why he stayed away last night,' she said, giving Daisy a searching glance. ‘There's nothing wrong between you, is there, my dear?' Her gaze alighted on Daisy's left hand and her eyes widened with concern. ‘Where is your ring?'

Daisy's hand went automatically to the gold chain which she still wore around her neck. ‘I've grown used to wearing it close to my heart. I can't wear jewellery of any sort when I'm on duty.'

Lady Pendleton breathed a sigh of relief. ‘I thought for one dreadful moment that you had broken off your engagement. You wouldn't desert Rupert now, would you, Daisy?'

‘Of course not, ma'am.' Daisy prayed that she would be forgiven for the lie, but she did not want to add to Lady Pendleton's worries for her son's wellbeing.

‘I just can't understand why Rupert dined at his club on his last evening at home.' Lady Pendleton buttered a slice of toast, leaving it on her plate untasted. ‘It's so unlike him. He seemed so preoccupied, and I don't think he looked in the best of health. I thought he would have a few days with us at least, but it was almost as if he couldn't wait to go back to his unit. What do you think, Daisy?'

‘I think he's a very brave man,' Daisy said truthfully. ‘He has to do what he thinks best.'

Lady Pendleton's lips curved in a smile. ‘You're right, of course. It's just that one never ceases to be concerned for one's children, even if they are grown up.' She picked up the slice of toast and nibbled at a corner before putting it down again. ‘But you will stay on for a day or so, won't you?'

‘I'd like to of course, but I really ought to go home and see my family.'

‘Yes, I understand, but I do so enjoy young company. Why don't you go shopping this morning? You can
purchase anything you like and charge it to my account. I want to spoil my future daughter-in-law.'

‘That's very kind of you,' Daisy murmured. She was trapped and she knew it. She longed to make a clean breast of things but she knew that the truth would hurt Lady Pendleton, and she could not bear to see her suffer. It was cowardly, but Daisy was in full retreat and she made her escape as soon as possible.

Despite her pressing need to return home, Daisy spent a surprisingly pleasant morning exploring the department stores in Oxford Street. She had almost forgotten what it was like to see shops filled with luxury items and to see people who were well dressed and well nourished. It was like being in another world, and putting the past resolutely behind her, for a morning at least, she decided to enjoy her brief taste of freedom.

She bought a pair of kid gloves and a small bottle of her mother's favourite perfume, but she paid with her own money. She had no intention of taking up Lady Pendleton's generous offer; it would seem like stealing. By lunch time she was footsore and hungry, and as she had spent most of her money she made her way to the relatively new and reasonably priced Lyons Corner House in Coventry Street. She had often visited it with Beatrice when it first opened and had been impressed by the grandeur of the building and the different types of restaurants, all with their own unique style. She chose the brasserie and was shown to a table by the window. It was a relief to sit down and she was studying the menu, trying to decide between a ham
salad and a dish of macaroni cheese, when a uniformed waitress approached her table. ‘May I help you, miss?'

The menu fell from Daisy's nerveless fingers. She leapt to her feet and threw her arms around the young woman, causing the other diners to gasp in amazement.

‘Ruby, I can't believe it's really you.' Laughing and crying at the same time, Daisy hugged her as if she would never let her go. ‘I've been searching for you ever since you left us.'

Ruby pushed her away gently. ‘Please don't. Everyone's looking and I'll get the sack if the restaurant manager spots me hobnobbing with the customers.'

Daisy released her instantly and sat down. ‘I'm sorry. I was just so surprised and pleased to see you.'

Ruby glanced nervously over her shoulder. ‘Would you like to order now, miss?'

‘We must talk,' Daisy said firmly. ‘When do you finish your shift?'

‘Three o'clock. Now for God's sake give me your order. I can feel the manager's eyes boring into my back.'

Daisy felt a bubble of hysterical laughter rising in her chest but she managed to suppress it somehow. ‘I'll have a ham salad, please, and a roll and butter.'

‘Would you like anything to drink, miss?'

‘Water, please.' Daisy handed her the menu. ‘You look awfully tired, Ruby. I hope they're not working you too hard.'

‘Your lunch will be with you in a jiffy, miss.' Ruby scuttled off towards the service door, leaving Daisy in a state of confusion and exhilaration. She drummed her
fingers on the starched white tablecloth as she waited for Ruby to return with her order. It was not that she was hungry, her appetite had quite deserted her, but she was determined to pin Ruby down to a meeting.

She waited outside the staff entrance for more than an hour, pacing the pavement in a state of nervous anticipation. It had been impossible to have a conversation with Ruby in the restaurant but now Daisy was hoping for an answer to the riddle of Ruby's disappearance which had been bothering her for over a year. Her patience was rewarded at last when Ruby emerged into the street. This time the hugging was mutual and Ruby's eyes were wet with tears as they drew apart. ‘I was sorry to leave without seeing you, miss.'

Daisy shook her finger at her. ‘If you call me miss once again I'll throttle you, Ruby Flagg.'

Ruby's small features creased into a wide grin. ‘You and whose army?'

They collapsed against each other, giggling like schoolgirls. Daisy was the first to recover. ‘I want to know everything. Why didn't you answer my advertisements in the newspapers?'

‘I had my reasons.'

‘But you were in the family way. I know that's why Mother sacked you, which was terribly wrong of her. Bea and I came up to London looking for you. We couldn't find your father and we went to see your sister but she wasn't very helpful.'

‘Don't tell me,' Ruby said, pulling a face. ‘Our Nellie didn't want to know either.'

‘That's right. Where did you go and how did you manage?'

‘Look, Daisy, it's not that I don't want to chat about old times, but I've got a bus to catch. I got to get home.'

‘Then I'm coming with you. You won't run away from me this time.'

‘All right, but where I live isn't the sort of place that you'd normally go to.'

A vivid memory of the mud and filth of the Ypres battlefield and the appalling conditions when they first entered Lamarck flashed through Daisy's mind. ‘You'd be surprised,' she said mildly. ‘Come on then. Let's go.'

THE BUS JOURNEY
to Liverpool Street station took longer than Daisy had expected, but it was a relatively short walk past the railway sidings to Skinner Street, a narrow road lined with run-down tenements and warehouses. Daisy refrained from comment, but conversation would have been almost impossible against a background of noise from shunting engines, train whistles and great gusts of steam billowing from the iron monsters on the tracks. The smell of hot cinders and coal dust mixed oddly with the aroma of roasting coffee beans from a factory nearby. Ruby stopped outside a tall building. Its broken windows were stuffed with newspaper and the blistered paint was peeling off the front door, which did not appear to be locked. Ruby opened it and stepped inside.

‘I warned you,' she said darkly. ‘This ain't the sort of place you're used to.'

‘Are you going to let me in, or aren't you?' Stepping over the threshold Daisy felt her gorge rise at the mix of noxious smells. The odour of rancid cooking fat was mixed with the stench wafting from an overflowing outdoor lavatory and a faint hint of rodent droppings. The floorboards were bare of any form of covering and the banisters had supports missing. With
some misgivings she followed Ruby up to the third floor. Most of the doors leading off the landing were closed, but those that were open revealed scenes of such squalor that Daisy was tempted to retreat downstairs and hail the first taxi that came her way. She steeled herself for what was to come.

Ruby opened a door at the end of the passage and they were met by the loud wailing of a baby. Ruby crossed the floor in giant strides to snatch her child from the arms of an unkempt woman, who was slouched in a chair by the window with a cigarette dangling from the corner of her mouth.

‘Why is he crying?' Ruby demanded fiercely. ‘What have you done to him, Gert?'

‘He's a bad-tempered little bugger, that's what he is,' Gert said, rising to her feet. ‘I dunno what's wrong with him, but he's been a misery all day. Driven me crazy, he has. I've had enough.'

Ruby held her son tightly, rocking him and rubbing her cheek against his dark hair. ‘If I find as much as the smallest bruise on him I'll have your guts for garters.'

Gert spat the soggy cigarette end onto the floor. She pushed her face close to Ruby's. ‘Ungrateful cow. That's the last time I look after his nibs. You can find some other juggins to look after the brat from now on.' She stomped out of the room, her large bulk swaying as she walked. She slammed the door behind her causing the sash windows to rattle, and the baby to howl even louder.