‘And you’re
quite
sure that they’re all well?’ Lois stared up at Ernie.
He had only been home in Nuneaton for a couple of hours and it was quite late at night, but Lois hadn’t wanted to wait until morning to hear how her family was. Because of damage to the tracks caused by the bombing, Ernie’s train had been diverted a number of times and the journey had taken far longer than it normally did – but everyone was getting used to that now. The men who worked on the railways must have felt they were performing a useless task, for each time they repaired a stretch of the line, another section was bombed by the Luftwaffe.
‘They’re all absolutely fine,’ he said, and meant it. ‘In fact, I reckon young Alfie ’as put a bit of weight on. The sea air must suit him. And your Sarah looks a picture.’
‘It is beautiful there,’ Lois answered wistfully. She had loved living in Poldak as a child, with its sandy beaches and hidden coves. ‘But how are they getting on with my mother?’ she braced herself to ask then.
Ernie averted his eyes and shrugged. ‘Fine as far as I could see.’ How could he tell her that Briony was little more than a skivvy and that her three precious children were living up in the servants’ quarters? It would only worry her and by the look of it she was far from well. In fact, she was a mere shadow of the neighbour he remembered from before he had joined up. Then she had been a curvaceous, glamorous woman – but now that pretty face was drawn and haggard. She was as skinny as a rake as well, but that was hardly surprising as his mother had confided that she seemed to be surviving on alcohol rather than decent meals. He felt desperately sorry for Lois Valentine. She had obviously taken the news about her husband very badly and he was worried that now the children were gone she might just give up altogether, although more than ever now Lois knew that she had done the right thing by sending them away. There had been further raids on Nuneaton since the children had left for Cornwall, one of them far too close for comfort. The Cherry Tree Inn, which had stood on the corner of Westbury Road had taken a direct hit and six houses in Heath End Road had been so badly damaged that the families who had lived in them had been forced to move out. Over one hundred incendiary bombs had rained down on various areas nearby, not to mention the high-explosive bombs that had all but flattened everything they had landed on. People had lost their lives during the raids and Lois was thankful that her children were well out of it.
‘Well, thank you, Ernie.’ She rose unsteadily from the chair and he noticed that her hands were shaking so badly they seemed to have developed a life of their own. ‘I won’t keep you any longer but I just wanted to hear that they were all right. Goodnight, all.’
‘Goodnight, luvvie.’ Mrs Brindley saw her to the door and watched her cross the yard then sighing, she quietly closed the door and drew the blackout curtain across it. ‘Poor bugger,’ she muttered. ‘She don’t seem to know if she’s comin’ or goin’ half the time any more. I don’t think she’ll ever get over losin’ James.’
Ernie nodded in agreement.
‘So now you can tell me what it’s
really
like down there,’ his mother said firmly, and she wagged a finger in his face. ‘I know you, me lad. An’ I know there’s more goin’ on in that Poldak place than you ever told Lois. So come on, spill the beans!’
And so Ernie told her truthfully about how Briony’s grandmother was treating her, and when he was done Martha scowled.
‘Bloody old cow! Fancy treatin’ yer own flesh an’ blood that way. An’ callin’ her
“girl”!
What’s the grandad got to say about it?’
‘Apparently, Briony gets on well with ’im – when the old woman is out o’ the way, that is. It seems to be ’er that’s the only fly in the ointment.’
Mrs Brindley’s face softened then and she grinned. ‘Aw well, if I know Briony she’ll handle that old bat. Got spirit, that girl ’as.’ She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye then and asked innocently. ‘An’ was she pleased to see yer?’
‘Of course she was . . . we’re mates, ain’t we?’ Ernie answered quickly but he didn’t enlarge on it and his mother didn’t ask any more. Happen things would work out in the end. She just dreaded to think how young Ruth would handle it if Ernie chose Briony over her. She’d called round once already after work to see if he was back, and the woman had no doubt she’d be round again before the night was out. It was a funny old life, no one could deny!
Briony got all the latest war news from her grandfather, whom she now saw at every opportunity when her grandmother popped out, usually to some chapel function or other. She would make a cup of tea and take it in to him, and they would chat about everything and nothing. When he talked about her mother, which he often did, she would see the regret and sadness in his eyes and she knew how deeply he missed her. She still gave Sebastian a wide berth – which wasn’t too difficult to do as he tended to be out during daylight hours. On the evenings when he was at home she had taken to listening to the wireless in the kitchen once the children had gone to bed. She finally felt as if she was getting somewhere with Mabel. The little girl only wet the bed spasmodically now rather than every night, and the nightmares were less frequent too, which was a relief. But she still seemed to have a deep-rooted fear of men – something that Briony found very disturbing.
One evening, Briony decided to have an early night. It was wild and windy outside and she was feeling tired so she had a nice hot bath and after peeping in to check on the children she curled up in bed with a hot-water bottle, a library book and the latest letter she had received from her mother. Sometimes she wondered why she bothered to read them. They all seemed to say exactly the same thing in slightly different words. Even so, they were a link to home and she kept them all together, tied with one of her hair ribbons, in her bedside drawer.
Soon she fell asleep but was woken in the early hours of the morning by raised voices. Knuckling the sleep from her eyes, she struggled up onto her elbow, thinking that it was one of the children before realising that the voices were coming from the kitchen. Her heart leaped into her mouth as she tried to remember if she had locked the back door. She doubted that she had. The Heights was so isolated that strangers in the area were rarely seen, and even in the village people seldom bothered to lock their doors. Pulling on her dressing gown, she crept along the landing and down the stairs.
‘Didn’t you fucking
hear
me? I told you I’d get it, didn’t I?’
It was Sebastian’s voice and she stopped dead in her tracks.
‘When? The end of never?’ a sarcastic voice retaliated. ‘I tell yer now, mate. The gaffer won’t wait much longer. He’s really pissed off, and I don’t need to tell yer what that means, do I?’
‘Look . . .’ Sebastian’s voice was wheedling now. ‘Just give me another day. I’ll have it for you by this time tomorrow. I swear it! I just need to soften the old girl up in the morning when my father is out of the way.’
There was a loaded silence before the other man told him, ‘Tomorrer then. But where am I supposed to sleep? I was expecting to drive back tonight, not have to hang around in this dump.’
Briony could hear the relief in her uncle’s voice as he said quickly, ‘There’s a makeshift bed in the back of the barn. It’s hardly the Ritz but it’ll be better than sleeping the night in the cab of the van.’
‘I suppose that’ll ’ave to do then.’
Once the back door had closed behind them, she tiptoed down to the kitchen window and twitching the curtain aside, she watched their progress across the yard until they disappeared behind the back of a large van. She thought it might be the one she had seen there before but it was so dark that she couldn’t be sure. Time passed and she could hear nothing but the sound of the wind as it battered the house and bent the trees surrounding the yard almost double. Then above the van she saw one of the barn doors that was kept locked opening and she scuttled away back to bed. Sebastian had obviously got himself into some debt again, so no doubt he would be badgering his mother for more money tomorrow. She sighed, because whenever he upset her grandmother, it was Briony and the children who took the backlash of the woman’s temper; she had a horrible feeling that tomorrow wasn’t going to be a good day.
She had barely settled back into bed when she heard the engine of the van start up and it was driven away. That was odd. Perhaps Sebastian’s visitor had decided against staying in the barn after all? Yawning, she turned over and was soon fast asleep.
When she served breakfast to her grandparents the next morning, Briony noticed that Sebastian’s chair was empty.
Her grandmother tutted with annoyance. ‘Oh, where has he got to?’ She looked at Briony and said, ‘Go up to my son’s bedroom immediately, girl, and tell him that his breakfast is served.’
She never referred to Sebastian as Briony’s uncle. It was as if by doing so she would have to acknowledge that Briony was a member of the family. This didn’t trouble the girl at all; what did trouble her was the fact that she had no idea where his bedroom was. She had never gone beyond the top of the stairs in the main house.
‘I don’t know where his bedroom is,’ she answered calmly and her grandmother glared at her as if she was a half-wit.
‘It’s the third door along to the left on the first-floor landing,’ she said impatiently.
‘Briony couldn’t have known that, Marion,’ her husband said in Briony’s defence.
‘Well, she does now. So go and do as you’re told –
girl
!’
Briony smiled at her grandfather as she left the room without another word. She’d soon discovered that it was much easier to do as she was told rather than argue.
She mounted the stairs, marvelling again at how grand this part of the house was, and when she came to the bedroom she’d been directed to she tapped at the door. There was no reply so she knocked again, harder this time. Still nothing, so she cautiously tried the door handle. It was unlocked, so she inched the door open just enough to see that Sebastian’s bed was still neatly made. Mrs Dower cleaned the family rooms each day and all was neat and tidy.
Briony would have liked to have a nose around, but deciding against it she hurried back downstairs and announced: ‘He isn’t there and the bed hasn’t been slept in, by the look of it.’
‘
What?
’ her grandmother spluttered. ‘But he
must
be there! He was here at bedtime last night and he didn’t mention that he was going out.’
‘Perhaps he was called out to deal with a death?’ William suggested.
‘Well, I didn’t hear the telephone ring,’ his wife answered.
Briony wondered if she should tell her about what she had overheard in the kitchen and Sebastian’s late-night visitor, but then decided against it. It was just as well she did, because at that moment the door opened and Sebastian himself strode in, with a face as dark as a thundercloud. He looked slightly dishevelled and his chin was covered in stubble. There was also a large bruise on his cheek.
‘Where have you been? And what’s happened to your face?’ his mother asked.
‘I got called out to collect a body and take it down to the funeral parlour and I hit my face on the side of the hearse as I was loading the corpse in.’
His father stared at him, clearly not believing a word he said.
‘Bit clumsy, wasn’t it?’
Sebastian shrugged as he took a seat at the table and began to load his plate with bacon and eggs. ‘It was dark and I was very tired. But do you mind if I get on with my breakfast now?’
Briony turned and beat a hasty retreat, feeling very much in the way. It was a relief to get back to the kitchen where the children were putting their coats on ready for school.
Sarah had developed a cold and Briony wondered if she should send her, but the little girl insisted that she was well enough and so they set off. Thankfully the wind had dropped but a thick mist had floated in from the sea and they could barely see more than a few feet in front of them.
‘I think we’ll go through the orchard and cut through the fields today so we avoid the cliff path,’ Briony told them as they crossed the yard. ‘There’s no point in taking unnecessary risks in this fog.’
Once she had dropped the children safely off at the school gates she hurried back the way she had come, but somewhere along the path she must have taken a wrong turn, for eventually she found herself in the yard of what appeared to be an empty farm. This must be the one that Mrs Dower told me about, she thought as she peered through the windows. It was a lovely place and she thought how sad it was that it had been standing empty for so many years. But then she stood and tried to get her bearings before setting off again . . . and shortly afterwards she was relieved to find herself heading towards the orchard.
Howel was in the kitchen unloading the supplies onto the table when she got back, and she told him about her little adventure. The cold air had made her cheeks glow, and with her long black hair shining like coal he thought how attractive she looked.
‘Ar, that’ll be the Kerricks’ old place, Chapel Farm,’ he answered. ‘Shame it is, but there you go. I don’t reckon your grandpa could afford to keep it up. Me and my family lived there at one time till we lost our parents, then the Kerricks took it over for a time. No doubt it will be left empty to go to rack and ruin now.’
‘How sad.’ Briony had been quite taken with the place. ‘Do you think he’d mind if I went and had a look around if I get a bit of free time?’
He shook his head. ‘I shouldn’t think so. I’ll tell you what – I’ve got an hour free early this afternoon. Do you want me to take you over there before you fetch the children from school?’
‘Oh yes please, I’d love that!’ Briony responded. She could always jiggle her jobs about, and the way she saw it she was due a little time off.
‘Right, I’ll call for you after you’ve served that lot their lunch. Shall we say about one o’clock?’
She nodded as Howel went out into the yard to fetch the logs in while she put the kettle on. He was a little later than usual this morning but she hoped he would make time to stay for a cup of tea.