Time for Silence Page 19

“I go round and talk to some of them…those who are well enough to talk. Actually, we don’t have a lot of bad cases here. I think they consider we are more of a convalescent home.”

  “That sounds interesting. As a matter of fact, it’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I thought I might come and help a bit.”

  “I can’t quite see you…”

  “I’m bright and amusing. I could help with the patients and do anything else that had to be done. One wants to do one’s share. My mother was saying I ought to do something. I help her a lot with her charities and things. I’m quite good at it. But I should like to do more. My mother is talking to yours about my coming here for a while to help.”

  “You could train as a nurse.”

  She looked at me in horror. “That would take ages.”

  “There are places you can go to for a period.”

  “Oh, no,” she said. “The war would be over before I could be of any use. I want just to come and help. And what about you? You’re not a trained nurse.”

  “No, but then this is my home and I can be called on at any time.”

  “Well, it’s my home in a way. We’re like a family. Your mother and my mother…their upbringing and all that. They were in the same nursery together.”

  “I know. You’d find the country boring.”

  “You’re trying to put me off. Don’t think I don’t know why.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You were always jealous of me…and Marcus.”

  “Jealous of you? Why?”

  “Because he was more attracted to me than to you. I know you thought he liked you at one time. He’s like that with every girl. It’s just his way. It doesn’t mean a thing.”

  “What’s that got to do with your coming here?”

  She smiled slyly. “He’ll be ever so pleased when he finds I’m here,” she said.

  I still said nothing.

  “I’ve been to see him in that hospital,” she went on. “My mother and I went. It was so interesting. Poor Marcus! He really did get it, didn’t he? That ghastly place, Gallipoli. And it was all a mistake. They should never have gone there. Well, he’s home now. They wouldn’t let him out of the hospital. And they won’t for another month, he thinks. He says he’s looking forward to his convalescence…here.”

  “I now see the reason for your sudden desire to serve your country, which really means serving your own ends.”

  “Don’t be so pompous! Of course, Marcus is an added attraction, but I have been thinking for a long time that I should like to come here. I shall be very good at helping to enliven the days of those poor soldiers. They’ve had such a miserable time in the trenches and everywhere. So I shall be coming to help in the good work. I shall go back to London to do some shopping and get myself ready. Then I shall descend on you.”

  I was silent. I could imagine her with those men who were getting better and were ready to indulge in a little recreation, which, with Annabelinda, would mean flirtation. There was no doubt that they would enjoy her company.

  It was two weeks later that she arrived. I have to admit that she was an immediate success with the men—less so with the staff.

  My mother talked about her to me when we were alone.

  “She reminds me so much of her mother. At times I imagine I am eighteen again and she is Belinda. They are so animated…vital…both of them. That is their great attraction, though they both have a rather unusual kind of beauty. I think it is the French in them. I can see a good deal of Jean Pascal Bourdon there. I wonder how he is getting on? I suppose he could have got away, but he is the typical French aristocrat; he would not desert his country. And I should imagine he will be wily enough to get by. About Annabelinda. I think, on the whole, she’s an asset. I saw her wheeling out Captain Gregory. He is so depressed about his disability. I don’t think he will ever be any better. She was doing her usual line of innocent flirtation, and for the first time I saw him actually smile.”

  “She’s certainly good in that respect,” I said.

  “One can’t help liking her. It was the same with her mother. They are born so naively selfish.”

  There was still no news of Marcus. He must have been four months in that hospital.

  We had had some startling news. On the fifth of June, Lord Kitchener was on his way to a meeting with the Russians, when the Hampshire, the ship on which he was sailing, was struck by a German mine, and he was drowned.

  England was plunged into mourning. And still the war went on.

  To cheer us came news of Marcus’s imminent arrival. He was brought in an army vehicle and was able to walk with a cane, though with some difficulty.

  We were all waiting to greet him.

  He looked a little thin, slightly paler, but he was as full of life as ever.

  He took my hand and gazed at me with such delight that I felt my spirits rising.

  Then he saw Annabelinda. “And Miss Annabelinda, too!” he exclaimed. “A double blessing! How fortunate! Mrs. Greenham…and Miss Carruthers! And the capable Mademoiselle Latour. And where is Master Edward?”

  “He’s sleeping at the moment,” said Andrée.

  “Our band of adventurers! Mrs. Greenham, I cannot thank you enough for allowing me to come.”

  “We have all been very impatient for your arrival and quite put out because it took so long,” said my mother.

  So there he was, installed at Marchlands. Immediately the place seemed different—and I was not the only one who felt this.

  He was put into a small ward with three other officers. One of the assets of Marchlands was that we had several of these small wards. It meant that instead of the long rooms with rows of beds, such as are found in most hospitals, we had these cozy apartments, which before had been large, airy bedrooms.

  The three men with Marcus were a middle-aged major, a captain of about thirty and a young lieutenant. My mother had said they would be the sort who would get on well together.

  It soon became clear that Marcus was a welcome newcomer. We often heard laughter coming from the ward, and the nurses vied with each other for the pleasure of looking after that particular quartet.

  Annabelinda took charge of them. She referred to theirs as her ward, and she was constantly in and out. Of course, she was a favorite with the men.

  I could not help but be a little put out. For so long I had looked forward to Marcus’s arrival, and now it was like an anticlimax.

  Marcus could walk out into the garden and he used to like to sit there under the sycamore tree. I was very rarely there with him alone. If I did manage it, in a few minutes Annabelinda would be there.

  I was not sure whether he resented this as I did. He gave no sign of doing so—but then he would not.

  Annabelinda would chatter away, asking questions about the fighting in Gallipoli, and not listening to the answers. She said how wonderful it was to feel one was doing something toward the progress of victory, and how much she admired the brave men who were fighting for the cause. Then we would talk about that journey we had all made together; we would remember little incidents which had seemed far from funny at the time and now seemed quite hilarious.

  Marcus frequently told us how delighted he was to be at Marchlands.

  “I used to lie in my narrow hospital bed and wonder if I was ever going to get here,” he said. “The weeks went on and on and they would not let me go.”

  “You have been very ill, Marcus,” I said.

  “Oh, not really. It was just that stubborn doctor. The more eager I was to go, the more determined he seemed to be to keep me.”

  “You are so brave,” said Annabelinda. “You make light of your wounds. And if you are glad to be here, we are twice as glad to have you in our clutches.”

  “This is where I would rather be than anywhere else.”

  “I am so pleased,” said Annabelinda, looking at him earnestly, “that they can’t take you away from us…not yet anyway. We shall insist on keeping you until this sill
y old war is over.”

  “You are too good to me,” he told her.

  “You will see how good I can be,” she said, her eyes full of promise.

  Then one day I found him alone under the sycamore tree.

  “This is wonderful,” he exclaimed. “I hardly ever see you alone.”

  “You always seem quite happy.”

  “I’m happier at this moment.”

  “You always say the things people want to hear. Do you really mean them?”

  He put his hand over mine. “Not always, but at this moment, yes.”

  I laughed. “Flattery comes as easily to you as breathing.”

  “Well, it pleases people…and what’s wrong with that?”

  “But if you don’t mean it…”

  “It serves a purpose. As I said, it pleases people. You would not want me to go around displeasing them, would you?”

  “That’s very laudable, but in time, of course, people will realize you don’t mean what you say.”

  “Only the wise ones…like you. Most lap it up. It’s what they want to hear, so why not give it to them? But I assure you, I will be absolutely truthful with you. You are so astute that it would be pointless to be otherwise. At this moment, I am happy to see you and to have you to myself, and to see that you are growing up into a very attractive young lady. You were so young when we first met.”

  “I’m nearly two years older now.”

  “About to reach the magic age. But don’t grow up too soon, will you?”

  “I thought you were urging me to.”

  “I want you to keep that bloom of innocence. Sweet sixteen, they say, don’t they? How right they are! Don’t learn about the wicked ways of the world too soon, will you?”

  “I think I have learned quite a lot about them in the last two years.”

  “But it hasn’t spoiled you. You still have that adorable innocence. You will soon be seventeen. When is your birthday?”

  “In September. The first.”

  “Almost three months away.”

  “I wonder if you will still be here?”

  “I am going to be. If necessary I shall malinger. I shall pull the wool over Dr. Egerton’s eyes and make him insist on my remaining here.”

  “But surely you will have recovered by then?”

  He shrugged his shoulders and touched his chest. “That bullet did something. The old leg might get back to something like normal. I believe they are not much concerned with that I don’t think it would qualify me to be here. But I have to take care of this other thing.”

  “I am glad in a way that you won’t be able to go to the front.”

  “You would mind very much if I did?”

  “Of course. I thought a great deal about you when you were in Gallipoli.”

  “I wish I’d known.”

  “But you must have guessed. We were all thinking of you…you and Uncle Gerald.”

  “It’s your thinking of me that interests me.”

  We were silent for a few moments, then I said, “You know a great deal about me and my family. I know little about you and yours.”

  “There is not a great deal to know. I have been in the army from the time I was eighteen. Destined for it, you know. It’s all tradition in my family.”

  “Uncle Gerald did say something about your coming from an ancient family.”

  “We all come from ancient families. Heaven knows how far our ancestors go back…to the days when they were all living in trees or caves perhaps.”

  “The difference is that you know who your family was and what they were doing hundreds of years ago. You’re from one of those families who…”

  “Came over with the Conqueror? That’s what you mean, is it? Oh, I daresay. There was always a lot of pride in the family…all that sort of thing.”

  “Tradition,” I supplied.

  “That’s it. The family has been doing certain things for centuries. We have to remember that and go on doing them. The second son always goes into the army. The first, of course, runs the estate. The third goes into politics, and if there is a fourth, the poor devil is destined for the Church. The idea in the past was to have the family represented in all the influential fields. Thus we played our part in governing the country. What was done in the sixteenth century must be done in the twentieth.”

  “And do you all meekly obey?”

  “There have been rebels. Last century one went into business. Unheard of! He made a fortune, bolstered up the crumbling ancestral home and set the family on its feet. But that did not stop them from thinking there was something shameful about his life.”

  “Well, at least you have done your duty and haven’t become a black sheep.”

  “But not an entirely white one either.”

  “I should have thought they would be proud of you.”

  “No. I should have become a field marshal, or at least a colonel by now. I haven’t a hope. Wars are the time for promotion. But I’m knocked out of it, as it were.”

  “Won’t the family recognize that?”

  “Oh, yes, but it doesn’t really count. I should at least have got a medal…preferably the Victoria Cross.”

  “Poor Marcus! Perhaps it would have been better to have been born into an ordinary family like mine.”

  “Yours is far from ordinary. Consider your mother. Turning her home into a hospital!”

  “Do you feel restricted, having to conform to such high standards?” I asked.

  “No. Because I don’t always. One gets accustomed to compromise. That is our secret motto. As long as it all looks well, that’s all that matters.”

  “But you went into the army.”

  “It suited me in a way. I was too reckless at eighteen to have any ambitions of my own.”

  “And now…?”

  “Oh, I shall be a good Merrivale to the end of my days. I shall stay in the army until I retire…then possibly settle on the estate. There’s a fine old house…not quite so imposing as the ancestral home, but it has been used by one of the younger sons through the ages. My uncle who lived there died recently and his son is living there now. I believe he has plans to move to one of the family’s smaller estates up north sometime. Then that house could be mine…when I retire from the army. I could settle down there and give my brother a hand with the estate. That life would suit me.”

  “So you will do your duty to the family.”

  “I shall marry and settle. I must marry before I am thirty.”

  “Is that a family law?”

  “It’s expected of us. Sons should have settled by the time they are thirty and begin to replenish the earth…or shall we say, the family. Time is running out for me. Do you know I am twenty-eight?”

  “Is that really so?”

  “Quite old, compared with you.”

  “You will never be old.”

  “Ah. Who is flattering now?”

  “If it is the truth, it is not flattering, is it?”

  “But you were saying this to please me.”

  “I was merely saying what I think.”

  “Oh, hello…there you are.” Annabelinda was coming toward us.

  “Marcus,” she went on. “How long have you been sitting there? I’m not sure that you should. There’s quite a chill in the air.”

  “Ah,” said Marcus. “The fair Annabelinda! Have you come to join us?”

  “I have brought your jacket.” She put it around his shoulders. “I saw you from one of the windows and I thought you needed it.”

  “How I love to be pampered!”

  “I was looking for Lucinda, actually,” said Annabelinda. “Your mother was asking for you a little while ago. I thought you might be somewhere in the garden.”

  “I’ll go and see what she wants,” I said. Marcus raised his eyebrows into an expression of resignation.

  “Good-bye for now,” I added.

  When I reached the house, I looked back. Annabelinda was sitting close to him on the seat and they were laughin
g together.

  I found my mother.

  “Did you want me?” I asked.

  “Well, not especially, but now you’re here, you might take these towels along to Sister Burroughs.”

  A few days later, after we had closed our books for the morning, Miss Carruthers said, “Lucinda, I have something to tell you. You will be the first to know.”

  I waited expectantly.

  “You are aware that your seventeenth birthday is coming up soon.”

  “The first of September.”

  “Exactly. You will then not really be in need of a governess.”

  “Has my mother said anything about that?”

  “No. But it is the case, is it not?”

  “I suppose so. But I hope…well, my mother always said how useful you are in the hospital. She says she does not know what she would do without all her helpers.”

  “The fact is I am going to be married.”

  “Miss Carruthers!”

  She glanced down, smiling. It was hard to imagine Miss Carruthers coy, but that was how she seemed at that moment.

  “Dr. Egerton has asked me to marry him.”

  “Congratulations! I am so pleased. He is such a nice man.”

  “I think so,” said Miss Carruthers. “We got on well from the first, and now…he has asked me.”

  I thought of what I had heard of Dr. Egerton. His wife had died six years before. He must be about forty. He had a son and daughter, both married and not living at home. I thought it sounded ideal. My first thought was, now she will never have to go to that cousin. How wonderful for her!

  She clearly thought so, too.

  “I have told David…Dr. Egerton…that I shall not leave my post until you are seventeen.”

  “Oh, you must not think of me. I am as near seventeen as is necessary, and in any case, it will soon be the school holidays.”

  “Dr. Egerton understands. We are going to make the announcement on your seventeenth birthday. We shall be married in October. If your mother will allow me to stay here until then.”

  “But of course! I’m so surprised. I think it is wonderful. I am so pleased about it.”

  I threw my arms around her and hugged her.

  “Oh, Lucinda.” She laughed indulgently. “You are so exuberant. We have been through a great deal together, and I wanted you to be the first one to know. Now I shall tell your mother.”