Winds of Eden (9 page)

She broke the silence. ‘There are strong similarities between you and John, Captain Mason.'

‘Height and build,' he acknowledged. ‘We both followed our father in that respect but my hair is darker than John's and there's no trace of my mother's auburn in it.'

After what Charles had told him about Maud's infidelity, he wanted to shout at her, be angry with her on John's behalf. His brother – the man he'd looked up to all his life – was rotting in his grave years before his time while his unfaithful wife was sitting calmly and quietly with her bastard, apparently unmoved by his death.

‘I saw you arrive through the window. I thought Harry's brother was Harry.'

‘They've always been alike.' Tom knew he was being terse but he couldn't stop himself.

‘Captain Mason, I've no doubt you've heard that your brother and I were living apart before his death and I don't mean because of the war.'

‘I know exactly what you mean.'

‘John wrote to you?'

‘He never mentioned anything personal after he left India. Not about his marriage or you. I assumed, wrongly, because you'd been separated by war.'

‘I wrote to you but you wouldn't have had time to receive my letter before you left England.'

‘I didn't.'

‘You've heard that I was unfaithful to your brother?'

‘Within an hour of landing in Basra.' Tom saw no point in mentioning Charles's name.

‘You've also heard that my baby isn't John's?'

‘Yes.'

‘He isn't,' she confirmed. ‘I have no excuse. I deeply regret my actions and I deeply regret hurting John.'

‘Why were you unfaithful to my brother?' When she didn't reply he asked, ‘Was John a bad husband?'

‘On the contrary, he was an excellent husband. I have absolutely no excuse for my behaviour, other than one day he was there, the next he wasn't, and I was lonely.'

‘He went to war, not a gentlemen-only picnic.' Tom was embarrassed to see the nursemaid look up when he raised his voice.

‘I was weak. There were other men. I offer no explanation and expect no sympathy. All I can do is apologise to you for my behaviour, as I did to John.'

‘When did you last see him?'

‘Twenty-eighth of June this year. He called after he was discharged from hospital following a bout of fever. As soon as he found a doctor prepared to certify him fit for duty he volunteered to go upstream. He left Basra on the eighth of July but he didn't visit me again, nor did I expect him to.' She opened a drawer in the desk, removed an envelope and handed it to him. ‘This is John's last letter to me. It was sent out of Kut as the Turks were raising the siege. I have no right to keep it. If you or anyone in your family would like it, please take it.'

Tom removed the single sheet of paper.

December 15th 1915

Dear Maud.

I hope you get this. I haven't long to live. I trust you won't waste time grieving for me. I'm not in pain and as Charles and Harry have gone there doesn't seem a great deal left to live for. Write to my brother Tom care of my father. He has the authority to administer my estate and will arrange payment of the annuity I set up for you. If it will help,
you may name the child after me. Thank you for the happy times. There were some, John Mason.

‘John thought Charles was dead?'

‘It was understandable if he knew Charles had been wounded. Charles arrived in Basra after a horrendous journey on a filthy ship with no food, water, sanitation, or medicines. Most of the men on that vessel died on route or shortly after arrival.'

‘Did you write to my father?' Tom asked.

‘Not about the annuity. After what I did, I don't deserve John's money or anything that was his. I won't be accepting the widow's pension from the army.'

‘What will you live on?'

‘Harry sold some jewellery for me.'

‘Jewellery John gave you?'

‘No. Jewellery another man gave me.' She stared at him through yet another silence. ‘I don't expect you or anyone in John's family to accept me or keep me.'

‘If you don't take the army's widow's pension or private annuity the money will be lost. No one else in the family can claim it so you may as well have it.' He left the chair and walked away from her to the window so he could look at the garden instead of her face. ‘Will you name the child after John as he said you could?'

‘No. I've reverted to my maiden name, Perry, and I've named my son after my grandfather. Robin, so he'll be known as Robin Perry.'

He held out the letter to her.

‘If you don't want it you could send it to your mother.'

‘She would appreciate it.' He was aware she'd picked up on his inference that she wouldn't. He folded the letter back into its envelope and pocketed it.

‘You can't hate me any more than I hate myself, Captain Mason.'

‘After I was told of the way you'd behaved towards my brother I thought of a great many things to say to you – now I'm actually with you, I can't even begin to convey my feelings. I'm not even sure what I want to say, other than I'll mourn John and Harry and miss them every day for the rest of my life.'

‘You won't be the only one, Captain Mason. Although I didn't know John, or Harry, for as long as you did, I knew both of them, I like to think well. And I love …' she fought the catch in her throat, ‘loved John.'

If she'd intended to invoke his pity by crying, her tears had the opposite effect.

‘What about the father of your child? Will you marry him?'

‘He's dead,' she lied.

‘Will you continue to live here at the mission?'

‘If you're wondering if I know I'm imposing on the Butlers' charity and goodwill as well as creating problems for them, I am. I'm also aware I'm the object of scandal and derision in British military society. No one has called on me except Colonel Allan's wife. My mother's maid, Harriet, who married a sergeant now in Kut, agreed to look after me and my baby before he was born. She changed her mind after the birth. I presume because she couldn't withstand the social pressure.'

‘You resent her for it?'

‘If the situation had been reversed, I wouldn't have behaved differently. I'm as much a coward as the next woman.'

‘So you'll return to England?'

‘I've never lived there.'

‘India then?'

‘I have no plans, Captain Mason. I have sufficient money to live quietly for a while. I intend to try to find some way of supporting myself and my child, but I'm not sure where. As I've already said, if you want an assurance that I won't be asking you or your family for anything. You have it.'

‘You're not wearing a wedding ring.'

‘I gave it to Harry the last time I saw him and asked him to give it to John. Could you do me one favour please, Captain Mason.'

He waited.

‘Would you please ask Major Reid if he'll see me? I won't detain him long.'

‘I will ask – Mrs – Perry.'

‘My deepest sympathies on the loss of your brother, and your close friend Harry, Captain Mason.'

‘If my father hasn't already done so, I'll write to the family lawyer about the annuity. John arranged it after he asked you to marry him. It's considerable. A thousand a year if I remember correctly, but being John he made provision for a lump sum to be payable and a lesser annuity in case you wanted to buy a house. Take it and John's army pension. Better you use it to educate the child than allow the money to go to waste, which it will if you don't claim it.'

‘I'll think about it, Captain Mason.'

Tom realised he couldn't say anything more to his brother's widow that would make her feel worse than she already did.

He closed the door behind him.

Lansing Memorial Mission, Basra, Friday 31st December 1915

Michael pushed Charles to Maud's door a few minutes later and wheeled him in. Maud closed the door as soon as Charles was inside.

Charles was shocked. The last thing he'd expected to see was Maud in a drab gown with her hair dressed in a fashion befitting an elderly spinster. He carried many images of her. The beautiful golden-haired, innocent-eyed virgin who'd entranced John; the happy fiancée, glittering like an angel in a white beaded gown when she and her mother, Emily, had joined him and John at the captain's table on the voyage to Basra. And, finally, the crimson-gowned bejewelled siren, exuding more sex than a Rag full of whores who'd scandalised British military society with her blatant and indiscriminate affairs among officers, Portuguese, and – it was rumoured – natives.

‘Why do you want to see me, Maud?' Charles demanded.

‘I don't.' Her blue eyes gazed unashamedly into his. ‘Of choice I never want to see you again.'

‘Then why ask Tom to bring me here?'

‘I thought you might want to see your son.'

Chapter Nine

Kut al Amara, Friday 31st December 1915

Major Warren Crabbe had never been a patient man. He clutched a file as he paced the length of corridor that been designated ‘waiting area' in HQ. Twenty-four steps east to west. Twenty-four steps west to east. At the western end of the corridor he heard the thud of crates being moved, the ring of metal on metal, the rip of ammunition boxes being torn open and sappers cursing.

Command had evacuated the native population from the entire street, and requisitioned every building. The one next door to HQ was being used as an ordnance depot by the Norfolks and Hampshires manning the second lines. The coarse gibes of the ranks mingled with the cries of street vendors in the market beside the mosque behind the building.

Crabbe had been waiting for an hour. He knew the brigadier would have seen him right away if he'd arrived early that morning, but he'd wanted to avoid Colonel Perry, who'd been designated chief supply officer and consequently been given a desk in HQ. The only way to ensure he wouldn't run into him was to wait until mid-afternoon. Perry had established a routine the first week of the siege and stuck rigidly to it since. He put in an appearance in HQ sometime during the morning, lunched in the Dorsets' officers' mess, and left at precisely three o'clock for the Norfolks' mess, where he played bridge with his opposite numbers from the Norfolks, Hampshires, and Kents until five o'clock.

At four o'clock Crabbe heard the rattle of teacups behind one of the doors. A second lieutenant appeared and saluted. ‘The brigadier will see you now, sir.'

Crabbe marched in and snapped to attention.

The brigadier set down his pen. ‘Close the door behind you, Lieutenant Miles, and see that Major Crabbe and I aren't disturbed.'

‘Sir.' The subaltern left.

‘At ease, Crabbe, and take a seat. You here about Mason?'

‘Yes, sir.' Crabbe sat in the visitor's chair.

‘I hear he saved Cleck-Heaton's life this morning.'

‘That might be a bit strong, sir. There's no doubt Major Cleck-Heaton would have been handed to a burial party if Major Mason hadn't operated, but it's by no means certain he'll survive.'

‘That's why I insisted a side room be prepared on the second floor of the officers' hospital for Major Mason while he's acting senior surgeon. He needs to be within easy reach of his patients. It's ludicrous to keep an able-bodied member of the force imprisoned in a damp cellar while we're under siege. Doubly ludicrous when that officer is a medic.'

‘I wondered who'd arranged the transfer of Major Mason's billet to the officers' hospital, sir. Thank you. I've seen the room. It's healthier than the cellar.'

‘I've heard you're the master of the understatement, Crabbe. You represented Mason at his court martial?'

‘Yes, sir.'

‘I was busy organizing the defences at the time so I'm not fully conversant with the facts of the case. Update me, and tell me why you chose to represent a man accused of disobeying orders, and inciting mutiny and murder.'

Crabbe knew, as did everyone who was acquainted with Colonel Perry, that Perry was the instigator of the charges against John Mason. Cleck-Heaton had formally pressed the allegations and taken them to command, but he'd done so at Perry's behest. The relationship between Perry and Cleck-Heaton ran deeper than friendship. Cleck-Heaton's family had money. Perry's considerable influence in the India Office. Given Cleck-Heaton's shortcomings as an officer it had become obvious he'd owed his commission to something other than his intellect.

‘We're not in a courtroom, Major Crabbe. You're not under oath and no one is making a record,' the brigadier prompted.

‘Major Cleck-Heaton went to the Forward Aid Station during the battle of Ctesiphon when he heard that Major Mason was refusing to evacuate the wounded to Baghdad.'

‘We never reached Baghdad.'

‘Major Mason knew we hadn't progressed beyond Ctesiphon, sir. That's why he refused to obey the order when it was passed down.'

‘If he hadn't disobeyed it, the Turks would have picked off the wounded and their escorts. The death toll would have been worse than it was.'

‘It would have, sir.'

‘Continue.'

‘I wasn't witness to the argument between Major Cleck-Heaton and Major Mason, sir. Major Cleck-Heaton testified that Major Mason lost his temper, and as a result released the pressure on a sub-lieutenant's severed artery. The officer died. Major Cleck-Heaton insisted the charge of murder of Sub-Lieutenant Stephen Amey be added to the charges of disobeying an order, and inciting mutiny.'

‘I know from experience a severed artery is almost always fatal in battle conditions. Now I understand why you chose to defend Mason. Were you aware I'm acquainted with Major Mason?'

‘No, sir.'

‘He was senior medical officer on General Gorringe's hundred-mile march across the desert from Ahwaz to Amara at the height of the hot season. More than half the force went down with sun or heatstroke, the other half with dysentery. I don't think Mason slept day or night while the sick needed his attention.'

‘I know him well, sir. He won't rest while a man needs care he can deliver.'

‘He also displayed remarkable tact when General Gorringe treated the medics abominably, informing them he could do a better job of treating the sick and wounded with patent medicines.'

It was common knowledge that officers as well as men despised Gorringe for his arrogance, but Warren Crabbe had learned never to agree with a superior officer's criticism of another, no matter how well-founded. In his experience the most casual comment could be misinterpreted and twisted at a later date to suit a hidden agenda.

‘I believe Major Mason to be innocent of all the charges levied against him, sir. I am here to formally request that the findings of the court-martial be set aside until such time as the court proceedings and sentence can be reviewed.'

‘I take it you mean after the siege has been lifted, Crabbe?'

‘Yes, sir. I believe only then can sufficient time and attention be given to determine the veracity or otherwise of the evidence against Major Mason.'

‘As Mason's defending officer, you have the relevant papers?'

‘Yes, sir.' Crabbe handed the brigadier the file he'd brought with him.

‘I'll study your report and get back to you. Meanwhile, given the high incidence of sickness in the town, and the fact that Turkish snipers are hitting an average of one to two hundred unlucky souls a day, I'll lift all restrictions on Major Mason's movements except …' the brigadier paused, ‘the armed escort. I won't get that past Colonel Perry until a formal review has been held. Sergeant Greening is still guarding Mason?'

‘Yes, sir.'

‘Mason tolerates Greening's presence?'

‘Yes, sir.' Crabbe didn't elaborate although John and the sergeant had become firm friends, despite the situation and disparity in rank and class.

The brigadier reached for a notepad. He wrote three letters, stamped them with the date, his official stamp and signed them. He placed them in separate envelopes and handed two to Crabbe. ‘These state Major Mason has the freedom to go wherever he chooses in Kut or the forward defences provided he's accompanied by his guard. It also states Major Mason is no longer to be treated as a prisoner but as an officer and doctor of Indian Expeditionary Force D. His sentence to be reviewed after the relief of Kut. I will keep one copy and ask General Townshend to countersign it. Give one of those to Mason. Tell him to keep it on him at all times in case he is challenged by Colonel Perry – or any other officer. The third copy I suggest you file in a safe place where it's likely to survive bombardment or attack.'

‘Thank you, sir.' Having achieved more than he'd hoped for Crabbe went to the door.

‘Before you leave, Major Crabbe, and this is completely off the record. Just what the hell happened between Major Mason and Colonel Perry for Perry to want Mason shot?'

‘You said this is confidential between the two of us, Brigadier?'

‘You have my word.'

‘Major Mason married Colonel Perry's daughter the evening of her mother's death. The colonel was drunk at his wife's funeral. Afterwards he locked himself in his quarters. Major Mason and Lieutenant Colonel Downe …'

The brigadier smiled. ‘I miss that man. Every time Harry Downe's name came up, the brass seemed unsure whether to shoot or promote him.'

‘Either way you couldn't help liking the man, sir.'

‘We could do with him here. If he went out, just once, in his Arab skirts he'd find out exactly how many locals are in cahoots with the Turks.'

‘We don't need Harry to tell us that, Brigadier. The entire native population of Kut are with the Ottoman Empire.'

‘To return to the situation between Major Mason and Colonel Perry?' the brigadier prompted.

‘Major Mason and Lieutenant Colonel Downe broke down the door of Colonel Perry's bungalow to fetch Miss Perry's – now Mrs Mason's – trunk so she could travel to India with Major Mason after their marriage. Rumour has it the speed of the marriage annoyed Colonel Perry but as the colonel was behaving erratically Major Mason felt he couldn't leave Miss Perry with him.'

‘I heard some odd things about Mrs Perry's death.'

‘It was a scorpion bite, sir. One of the small yellow ones. Major Mason said their bite was invariably fatal.'

‘He attended Mrs Perry?'

‘Yes, sir. Her body was found between the Perrys' bungalow and Lieutenant Colonel Downe's quarters. Major Mason was staying with Lieutenant Colonel Downe that night as his and Maud Perry's wedding was arranged for the following day.'

‘Who found Mrs Perry?'

‘Lieutenant Colonel Downe, sir. He was returning from the dock after seeing a friend off on leave.'

The brigadier held up the envelope he'd kept. ‘Thank you for enlightening me, Crabbe. I'll telegraph the information in this letter to General Nixon's office today and ensure everyone in command knows Mason's sentence has been postponed.'

‘Thank you, sir.'

‘Am I right in thinking that Colonel Perry has already transmitted news of Mason's death to his wife and family?'

‘Yes, sir.'

‘Ask Major Mason if he wants me to telegraph the news of his remarkable recovery.'

‘I will, sir.'

‘One last thing, Major Crabbe, and this is on the record. You can tell Major Mason from me, he is fortunate in his friends. You're not the only officer who's been in here demanding his reinstatement to rank and duties.'

Abdul's coffee shop, Basra, Friday 31st December 1915

The windows of the coffee shop were shrouded in cheap silk, the interior dark, fogged by tobacco and hashish smoke. Men in native robes sat, crowded around small tables, playing backgammon, eating dates, spitting out seeds, and drinking thick-grained Turkish coffee from miniature, doll-sized cups. The clink of backgammon tiles and hubbub of voices was deafening. The stench of male sweat intermingled with roasting coffee beans and burning incense was nauseating.

Abdul bowed before Charles, Tom, and Michael, but his gaze was fixed on Michael.

‘My heart was desolate when I heard Lieutenant Colonel Downe had been killed. I have said many prayers for his soul.' Abdul ushered them out of the noisy public area into his office. Like Charles and Maud, he'd mistaken Michael for Harry and had been distraught when Charles had enlightened him.

The office was small, furnished Arabic-style with low divans and cushions covered with bright tapestries. The tables were raised barely four inches from the ground. A young man brought in a tray of coffee and pastries. When Charles saw Tom and Michael trying to curl their legs under themselves to sit on a divan he was glad of his wheelchair.

Abdul dismissed the servant, closed the door, and unlocked a chest in the corner of the room. He rummaged in its depths and extracted an envelope which he presented to Michael.

‘Lieutenant Colonel Downe left this to be given to a friend in case he was killed.'

Michael turned it over. Written on the outside, in Harry's large-lettered scrawl, was
To be delivered to Major John Mason or Major Charles Reid or Captain Peter Smythe in the event of my death. Harry Downe.

Below it were two lines of Arabic writing.

‘What does this say?' Michael asked Abdul.

‘Or to be given to my faithful friend Mitkhal.'

‘Mitkhal was Harry's bearer,' Charles explained.

‘Mitkhal was Lieutenant Colonel Downe's friend, Major Reid, not his servant,' Abdul corrected.

‘Have you seen Mitkhal lately, Abdul?' Charles asked.

‘I have not seen him since last June, Major Reid.'

‘He wasn't here with Harry in November?'

‘No, Major.'

‘That's strange,' Charles murmured, ‘they were practically inseparable.'

‘You're not an officer like your brother, Mr Downe?' Abdul asked.

‘No, a war correspondent. I write accounts of the battles for the English newspapers,' he added when he saw the confused expression on Abdul's face. He opened the letter and read the single page it contained. ‘It's Harry's will. He left everything apart from a set of jewellery to his wife and daughters.'

‘Harry has children!' Charles was shocked by the idea of his friend fathering mixed-race children.

‘Twin girls.' Michael carried on reading. ‘He has a strongbox in the bank.'

‘Who did he leave the jewellery to?' Tom recalled Maud telling him Harry had sold a set of jewellery ‘another man' had given her.

‘Maud.'

‘Why on earth would Harry leave Maud jewellery?' Charles spoke more sharply than he'd intended.

‘Maud told me Harry had sold jewellery for her,' Tom revealed. ‘If Maud had said to him, as she did to me, that she didn't want to touch any of John's money, it would be like Harry to pretend to sell her jewellery to give her enough to live on.'