Remembrance Day. Leah Fleming
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Название: Remembrance Day

Автор: Leah Fleming

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Историческая литература

Серия:

isbn: 9780007343690

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ news of boys who would never return home. She told them about Violet’s new idea to form the Women’s Institute like the ones set up in Canada, which her sister had joined.

      But the casualty lists were never far away from everyone’s mind. Charles hinted that there was a big push coming when the weather faired up; a push in which her sons would surely be involved. The French were taking a pounding, holding their forts at Verdun against terrible odds and suffering atrocious bombardments, so the paper said.

      Keep busy and don’t think too much was her maxim now. Fill every day with things to do, shore up the gaps with busyness. The garden was turned over now into one big allotment, and potatoes chitted and planted before the ninth of April, the traditional date for planting here. She’d been on her hands and knees with the best of them now she was down to just one old gardener. Everything was dug over except her rose bed.

      There had to be some vision of colour and hope to look forward to, she sighed, noticing, as she returned to her morning room, the postman cycling up the drive. As she saw him pull out a telegram from his bag, she went cold.

      Hester made for the drive to meet him. It took every ounce of courage to look nonchalant. Old Coleford, seeing her anxiety, waved the paper jauntily in the air.

      ‘Nowt to worry about, your ladyship. ’Tis only from yer son…’

      She could feel the weakness of relief seeping into her limbs. It was all she could do not to snatch the paper from his fingers but she stood nodding politely.

      ‘Thank you, Coleford,’ she managed to say, before taking it to the bench against the south wall, and tearing it open with shaking fingers: ‘Meet me at the station. The four o’clock train. A.’

      What a relief. Angus was home on leave!

      The news sent her into a flurry of flower arranging, lists for Beaven the coachman to do, engagements to cancel, sending the relief maid upstairs to air his bed. There was a menu to shop for. Angus was coming home. It was going to be just splendid!

      The train was late and she was miles too early. Beaven had brought her down in the pony and trap, knowing she was impatient to be on the platform as the steam train chugged slowly into the station. The porter was hovering and the stationmaster fussing with his watch and chain.

      Then doors clanged open to disgorge scruffy soldiers, unshaven, weary-faced, in muddy uniforms with kitbags on their shoulders. Boys who had travelled for days to snatch a few hours with their families on leave. Some fell into the waiting arms of their womenfolk. They all looked exhausted.

      Then from the first-class compartment she saw Angus step out slowly but not in his uniform, looking ordinary somehow in a long tweed coat, carrying a suitcase. How strange. He was shuffling along like an old man and, to her horror, leaning on a walking stick.

      ‘Angus, darling! What a surprise!’ Hester smiled, reaching out to greet him.

      ‘Not now, Mother. Let’s get out of here.’ He didn’t look her in the face but shuffled over the railway bridge and out through the station gate into the trap, pulling his trilby over his face. He didn’t speak all the way home, but sat sullen, staring out into the dusky night.

      Hester could hardly breathe with the shock. What on earth was going on?

      Once through the hall, Angus plonked his case down and went straight to his room. She followed him up slowly, fearing the worst. Had he been cashiered out of the army for a scandal, failed his examination, found wanting in leadership? What had Angus been up to and why had Charles not warned her of this disgrace?

      Opening the door, she found her son sitting on the bed, sobbing, shaking with distress like a little boy.

      ‘Angus! Pull yourself together and give me some explanation,’ she ordered, knowing she must be hard to bring him out of this childish display of emotion.

      ‘I had another bloody fit, didn’t I, right in front of everyone on parade when we were standing to attention. It’s when I get that smell…like iron filings, a metal iron smell, and the flashing lights—my fireworks, I call them—and the next thing I wake up in the hospital ward and they were prodding and poking and asking questions. I made a right tit of myself again. Why? It’s not fair just when we were shipping off to France. It’s just not fair. I’m going to miss it all, discharged on medical grounds as unfit for service,’ he grimaced. ‘All I ever wanted to do is taken from me and now I’m useless and there’s nothing wrong with me. Not even a bloody war wound to show…How can I ever show my face again? They’ll think I’m a conchie or a coward.’ He flung himself down on the counterpane. ‘Just leave me alone…’

      Hester didn’t know what to say to comfort him when all she was feeling was relief that one of her boys was not to be going to the slaughter fields. One day he would thank them for saving his life but now he was in the throes of frustration.

      She summoned Dr Mackenzie. They needed a proper explanation of all this.

      ‘In the wars again, young man?’ he said, offering his hand in sympathy, but Hester was in no mood for small talk.

      ‘What is epilepsy? There has to be a cure for this complaint, surely? We must find one of the best doctors—’ Hester started but Angus interrupted.

      ‘You’ve got to let them find me a job for the war effort. Anywhere…I can’t not be part of the show!’

      The doctor sat down, trying to make sense of the distress in the room.

      ‘Calm down, young man. I don’t suppose you told them anything before, did you, at the first medical, about those school fits?’

      ‘What do you take me for? Of course not. I’ve been a year in training and no bother. Then this, out of the blue! The headaches come and go and I have been struggling to concentrate. Sometimes I go a bit blank for a few seconds but I can cover it up. I was doing perfectly fine but now I’m a freak! They say I’m an epileptic. What sort of condition is that?’

      Mackenzie hesitated. ‘It’s a serious condition. There are those who suggest you might be better off in a special hospital…It can get worse…or there’s always the hope that it settles down and you never have another one.’

      ‘No one’s putting me into some loony bin. If I can’t do my job at the moment I’ll rest up here until I can be cured,’ Angus pleaded, pacing the floor in agitation.

      Mackenzie shook his head and glanced at Hester. ‘You have to understand, laddie, there’s no permanent cure for your condition, but some pills might calm it down.’

      ‘Give them to me,’ Angus said. ‘Then I can carry on.’

      ‘I’m sorry, but the medical officers are right. You are a risk to your men, with this condition. You might collapse under battle strain. Better to stop now before you do damage.’

      Hester watched him dismiss her son’s career with a wave of his hand. Angus was distraught at his honest assessment.

      ‘How can I live after this? I’ll have to go away. I don’t want the world knowing I’m a nutcase.’

      ‘We’ll do no such thing,’said Hester. ‘You have the certificates to prove your discharge. We’ll find you something to do here. What’s needed now is peace and quiet to settle whatever this is and we’ll get a second opinion from Harley Street. СКАЧАТЬ