The Lost Years (35 page)

‘He didn’t feel like making the journey to the service, so his mother stayed at the house with him. He’ll be at the farm for the celebrations afterwards.’

It was a conversation that not even the most suspicious of listeners could have read anything into, but for almost the whole time Annie had kept her gaze on the ground, not looking at him. When they reached the church door she glanced up at him and he thought she looked strained and unhappy. Then she left him in order to join the family group being gathered together by a harassed photographer. Perys was left with a disturbing feeling that too much had been left unsaid between them. That they were both afraid of talking to each other.

This was a simple rural wedding and when all the photographs had been taken, the guests were conveyed to Tregassick Farm on well-scrubbed farmcarts.

Perys had hoped he might be seated close to Annie, but they travelled to Tregassick on separate carts.

Contrary to what Annie had told him, Jimmy was not present at the wedding party. Neither was his mother, and Perys thought Annie seemed uneasy, undoubtedly due to the absence of her husband. However, as she was helping with the catering, he had no opportunity to talk to her about it.

At dusk, the party was still in full swing when Perys decided to leave. He intended walking back to Heligan House. It was little more than a mile away, and although it would of necessity be a slow walk for him, he felt the exercise would strengthen his injured leg.

Before he left he looked for Annie, to say goodbye to her, but she could not be seen. He assumed she must have left earlier without him noticing.

Leaving the farm, he walked slowly and had only just reached the lane at the end of the track when he thought he heard a sound behind him. Turning, he saw someone walking quickly towards him. As they drew nearer he saw it was Annie.

She seemed to slow her pace as though realising for the first time who was ahead of her, but Perys came to a halt and waited for her to catch up with him.

She was the first to speak. ‘Is it wise for you to be walking so far on that leg?’

‘I need to get it back to full strength.’ he replied. ‘It’s time I went back to the war.’

‘I suppose it won’t be very long before Martin has to return too.’ Annie sounded unhappy at the thought.

‘We’ll probably both be leaving England about the same time,’ he said.

‘Polly’s going to be very upset,’ Annie added. ‘No doubt your fiancee will be unhappy too - or are you married already?’

‘Me?’ Perys was startled. ‘No, I am not married - nor am I engaged.’

‘Oh! I thought you were getting engaged to a girl named Grace?’

‘How do you know about Grace?’ Perys knew he had never mentioned her to Annie. In fact, he had not seen Annie since he and Grace had met.

‘Miss Morwenna mentioned her when we met at Saint Thomas’s Hospital in London, when Jimmy came home after being wounded.’

‘How did you come to be talking about me?’ Perys asked.

‘I saw she was wearing a very beautiful ring. I thought you might have given it to her. She said you hadn’t, but that you would probably be buying one for her friend and she mentioned her name.’

When Perys said nothing, Annie asked, ‘Are you to marry Grace?’

‘I would like to think so, Annie, but at the time of which you speak I had only met her a few times. Before then, if anyone had asked whether I had a girl, I would probably have said yes . . . and I would have been talking about you. I didn’t realise you were already promised to someone else.’

‘It wasn’t like that, Perys,’ Annie said, miserably.

‘Then how was it, Annie? Explain it to me.’

‘There’s no point in talking about it now, Perys. We can’t turn the clock back. I’m a married woman. Married to Jimmy.’

‘Are you happy, Annie?’

It was a question he knew he had no right to ask, and he was about to apologise when Annie replied, ‘I would be far happier if Jimmy had his sight and his health.’

‘Of course. I am sorry, Annie, I should not have asked such a question.’

Annie thought, unhappily, that in view of the way she had treated him, he had every right to question her, but they had arrived at the entrance to the track which led to the cottage she shared with Jimmy.

‘This is my way home, Perys. I do hope you and Grace will be very, very happy.’

‘Thank you, Annie. I hope Jimmy’s health improves.’

There was a moment’s hesitation between them, then she turned and made her way along the track. He had taken only a couple of paces in the direction of Heligan when she called out to him.

‘Perys! Take care of yourself. I pray for both you and Martin every night.’

Having said this, she was gone, and he could hear her running along the track towards her home.

Had Perys been more familiar with the area he might have wondered why Annie had not walked across the single field that divided her home from Tregassick Farm. Had she done so she would have reached her destination in a fraction of the time it had taken her via the lane.

Halfway to Heligan, Perys began to regret deciding to walk back to the house. Then he heard a motor-car coming along the lane behind him. Quite as loud as the vehicle’s engine was the sound of singing from its occupants.

Perys had admired a 1913 Argyll motor-car parked outside Heligan House on the previous day. Its owner was a wounded Scots naval lieutenant, whose father was part-owner of the company that had built the vehicle.

As it drew closer, Perys stood back to allow the Argyll to pass him by. As it did so, the headlights picked him out. There was a sudden screech of brakes and cries of, ‘It’s the pilot!’, and the motor-car slid to a halt a short distance along the lane.

‘What are you doing so far from home at this time of night, Captain?’ asked the cheery driver. ‘Would you care for a lift?’

Perys was happy to accept the offer, even though he realised the men in the motor-car - including the driver - had been drinking

He was less certain of the wisdom of his decision when the occupants inside the passenger compartment moved to make room for him and Perys found himself seated next to Edward Tremayne.

‘Well, if it isn’t Second Cousin Perys,’ Edward sneered. ‘You’ve been hobnobbing with servants again, I believe?’

‘No,’ Perys replied, evenly, ‘I’ve been acting as best man to my observer - a rather splendid chap who has won a Military Medal and twice been mentioned in dispatches. What is your tally, Edward? By the way, I understand you are known as ‘Ting-a-ling Tremayne’ in your regiment. Why would that be?’

This piece of information had been imparted to him by the Duke of Cornwall Light Infantry captain earlier. One of the passengers in the Argyll who had been listening with interest to the conversation and who knew the story of Edward’s ‘war wound’, took it up immediately.

‘Did you hear that, chaps? Edward answers to the name of Ting-a-ling. Ting-a-ling Tremayne.’ This provoked a howl of approval from the other officers in the Argyll, and for the next couple of minutes each of the convalescent officers gave a highly individualistic imitation of a bicycle bell.

When the vehicle crunched to a halt in front of Heligan House, Edward alighted from it and stalked off without a farewell to any of his fellow passengers. Perys realised there would be no reconciliation between the two of them during their stay at the house.

Chapter 55

When Annie entered her cottage she found Winnie Rowe seated in the kitchen. Jimmy was nowhere to be seen.

‘You’ve taken your time getting home!’ declared a tight-lipped Winnie.

‘I beg your pardon?’ Annie retorted, indignantly. ‘Today is my brother’s wedding day and although Jimmy didn’t want to come to the church, you were supposed to be bringing him to the farm. Where is he now?’

‘He’s in bed. He didn’t feel like getting involved with all the folk who would be at Tregassick.’

‘He didn’t feel like it - or did you tell him he shouldn’t go?’ Annie put the question angrily.

Winnie shrugged. ‘I certainly didn’t try too hard to persuade him he should go. It’s no fun for a blind and sick young man to be surrounded by folk enjoying themselves when he can’t join in.’

‘It would have been better for him than staying here and being made to feel sorry for himself. As for joining in the fun . . . he’ll become involved whether he likes it or not. Martin and Polly will be home tonight and most of the guests are coming to serenade them on their first night together.’

The cottage where Jimmy and Annie lived was one of a pair of semi-detached cottages. The other had been rented by Martin and Polly.

‘Why didn’t you try to stop them from coming? Our Jimmy’s a sick young man -.’

‘So you keep telling him,’ Annie snapped. ‘I’m going up to tell him what to expect.’

‘He’ll be asleep.’ Winnie said. ‘He’s been in bed an hour or more.’

‘Then he’ll have had rest enough to get up and dress and go out and wish the newlyweds well.’

Annie realised she sounded cold and unsympathetic, even though her anger was directed not at Jimmy but at his mother. Winnie’s interference and unnecessary molly-coddling of her son were constantly undermining Annie’s attempts to promote a degree of independence in Jimmy, and pride in the achievements of which he was still capable.

‘Well! I’ve never heard of such a thing. There’s our Jimmy lying upstairs sick and all alone and you want to force him to get up and be dragged out into the night air - and for what? For something that can just as easily be put off until the morning!’

‘Had you brought Jimmy to Tregassick as we planned, he’d be tucked up now having enjoyed a day when he’d been treated as a human being and not as something to be shoved into a corner and allowed to rot away. I’ve told you before, Jimmy is my husband and I’m going to see that he has as near-normal a life as is possible. I’ll not let him go around believing he’s some kind of freak. Now, Martin, Polly and the wedding guests will be up here soon. If you want to tidy yourself up before they arrive I suggest you do it now, while I get Jimmy up.’

‘Not me! I’ll not be a party to this. You’ve made it perfectly clear how you feel about me. I’ll go to bed and try not to think of what’s happening to poor Jimmy. Whatever made me think you’d make him a good wife I’ll never know.’

Having made her thoughts clear to her daughter-in-law, Winnie stomped up the uncarpeted wooden stairs to the bedroom she was occupying in the young couple’s cottage.

Left alone downstairs, Annie found she was shaking. She often disagreed with Winnie about her interfering ways, but this was the first time it had developed into such an acrimonious exchange. For some moments she wondered whether she should perhaps go upstairs and apologise to her mother-in-law. Common sense prevailed. If she suggested she was in the wrong, she would sacrifice what little authority she possessed over Winnie in respect of Jimmy.

When she heard her mother-in-law walking heavy-footed around her bedroom, Annie went upstairs to where Jimmy was in bed. There was a lamp alight in the room, turned down low, and Jimmy was curled up on his side in the bed. Speaking in a tone of voice far removed from that she had used when talking to Winnie, she said, softly, ‘Jimmy, are you awake, love?’

‘What do you want?’

‘To see if you’re all right and to find out why you didn’t come to Tregassick. Everyone was asking after you.’

‘I’ve no doubt things went well enough without me - better, probably. Anyway, I didn’t feel up to being among lots of people I couldn’t see. Ma reckoned I’d be better staying home.’

‘Well, most of those who were at Tregassick are coming up here to see Martin and Polly into their new home. As you didn’t come to the farm, I said you’d be outside to wish them well.’

‘But . . . I’m in bed, Annie!’

‘And this is a very special day,’ Annie said, firmly, ‘especially for Martin and Polly. Martin, in particular, will expect you to wish him well. But I don’t want the pair of you talking for hours about the war. Remember, it’s his wedding night.’

Annie spoke in a jocular fashion, knowing from experience that this was the most successful ploy to adopt when her husband was in one of his ‘can’t do’ moods.

Jimmy continued to grumble about having to get out of bed, dress and be taken out into the cool night air. However, when the newly married couple and their guests reached the house in a celebratory mood and insisted that Jimmy have a share of the ale they had brought with them, his mood mellowed. Much to Annie’s delight he seemed to be enjoying himself more than at any time since returning home from the hospital.

She wished Winnie was present to see the change in him for herself. But she was curled up in her bed, a pillow over her head, trying to exclude the sounds of the merry-making outside. She felt both anger against Annie and apathy for her poor son. He had been dragged out of bed by an unfeeling wife and forced to join revellers who seemed intent upon carrying the party well into the early hours of the morning.

Chapter 56

Martin and Polly enjoyed only five days of married life before he had to return to the School of Aerial Gunnery and she to her work at Heligan House. The only difference that married life made to Polly was that instead of retiring to a room in the big house when her work was done, she went home to the semi-detached house next to that occupied by Annie and Jimmy.

A few days after Martin went away, Polly was given the task of cleaning the room occupied by Perys. He was in the room at the time and, as Polly worked, they chatted. They spoke of the wedding, of married life in general - and of Martin.

‘I wish he didn’t have to go back to the war.’ Polly said, unhappily. ‘I used to lie awake worrying about him before we were married. It’ll somehow be so much worse now.’

‘I can’t tell you there’s nothing to worry about, Polly,’ Perys said, seriously. ‘You’re far too intelligent to accept that, but I know he would much rather be fighting the war up in the air than in the trenches, and that’s where he’d be now if he hadn’t joined the RFC.’

In a desperate bid to replace the front-line soldiers who were being slaughtered in their tens of thousands, the government had brought in conscription earlier that year and many local men had been drafted in to the army.