The calloway sisters, p.23
The Calloway Sisters, page 23
Michael smiled. It was a lascivious, gleeful smile and Honoria sneered with derision. Had she thought that Michael wouldn’t even now absolve Jensen of his sins or try to understand his vulnerability, then his look confirmed it.
‘So you think your investigations are reliable? This Zola woman did she confirm whether she had the child?’
‘I knew that she had the child before I went to see her. I went so she could fill in the last pieces of the jigsaw and she was very resentful and belligerent, but she gave me the answers I wanted. You will discover what she is like when you go to meet her!’
Michael had struggled to his feet and stood with the decanter in his hand. He poured another cognac and stared at his mother. ‘Meet her? Why would I?’
Honoria looked him squarely and said, ‘Because she is Yolande’s mother!’
She watched Michael as he digested the news that the servant whore he professed to being in love with, who very likely caused his child to die when she pushed his wife downstairs, was the illegitimate child of Eugene Crozier.
‘So Aaron is her half-brother?’
‘Yes. Although Eugene must believe his money paid for the termination and that made the problem go away until Jensen’s gift saved your lover’s life!’
Michael looked ashen. He didn’t know which part of it to believe, or whether he believed any of it. Yet so much of it fitted. It made sense!
He had felt the extent of Eugene’s mistrust the other day and that it went deeper than grief. Eugene had expected his friendship with Ernest to amount to something when he had needed it most, but he hadn’t received that reassurance and then, despite all his efforts to break their friendship, Aaron had offered him a hand in No Man’s Land and paid for it with a sniper’s bullet to the temple. The irony of it all was too great. He had confided in Aaron some of his plans for Jensen, although he never shared the truth about his lust for Yolande with anyone.
‘Does this Zola know where Yolande is living?’
Honoria nodded. ‘I suspect so. I believe she will receive you. For what it’s worth she didn’t appear surprised that Yolande had left my employ. As far as Zola is concerned, we are all part of the same arrogant, rotten class, so don’t expect a warm welcome. Get what you need from her and leave!’
‘Why are you helping me? I would have thought you would want to sever ties with Yolande by whatever means. Especially if you blame her for killing your grandchild.’
Honoria shrugged. ‘I have tried to deter you from the ill-fated liaison with that wretched girl, but to no avail. So I surrender, on the condition that you keep your word and give Sarah her divorce?’
Michael bowed his head. She might have missed his nod, it was so brief.
‘I have much to repent for, Michael, but I have reconciled myself to Louise’s past. I should never have allowed her sense of hurt to subvert my judgement or to pass the desire for retribution on to you. It has become a corrosive legacy, so it could destroy you if you let it, so after I had read Louise’s letters and journals, I consigned them to the ashes…’
Michael opened his mouth to speak, until Honoria halted him. ‘It is done. We both need to move forward. So what are your plans…?’
Michael smiled ruefully as he didn’t know how his mother would react to what he had decided to do. He knew she would struggle to believe it, as he could barely believe it himself.
‘You remember the rural property Father bought near Hepburn Springs? I intend to move there and make a life with Yolande. Providing this…’ he paused to thump his leg and winced, ‘doesn’t put her off. I can’t stay in Melbourne. For the same reasons I readily accepted severing links at the bank, I don’t want to visit the old drinking establishments that I shared with Aaron. His absence leaves too great a hole and I think that I can make a life with Yolande at the property where nobody will be aware of the nature of our relationship. I realise this won’t be what you want to hear, but I didn’t want to survive in No Man’s Land when the bullet went into my thigh, nor did I care about the threat of gangrene they kept warning me about in the tented hospital on Lemnos after my tourniquet had been fouled up. I was ready to face up to any fears about death and to accept my fate. I could have had a hero’s death…’
Honoria shook her head sadly. Michael was right that it wasn’t what she needed to hear, but she doubted he was alone among the returning injured who felt that way. Yet he had been given a chance and he should accept it with grace and make the most of it, but Michael living a rural life on the land? She doubted he could endure that for very long.
‘That derelict old homestead. I never understood why your father made that investment or that he set such store by wanting to retire there. I never wanted to. Even for the occasional weekend, it was my idea of torture…’
Michael laughed, rubbing his left thigh again; she watched him in silence for a moment. Yes, he had suffered, but she hoped he had learnt something from his experience of war. She hoped he had attained a little humility he had been sadly lacking when he went off to fight.
‘I will have to check with our solicitors, but I suspect the property was left to you so you would sign the deeds over to me?’
Honoria nodded. ‘Have it with my pleasure, but remember what I said, Michael, about settling the past. Old sins cast long shadows and I have been guilty for too long of holding on to Louise’s past and letting it rule me…’
Honoria rose and made her way to the stairs as Michael poured himself another cognac before hobbling back to his chair. As he heard her footsteps ascending the stairs, he was in the trenches at Gallipoli again, with the sound of mortar fire all around him, as Aaron gripped his arm, trying to urge him to his feet, all the time ignoring Michael’s pleas to leave him there and save himself, until the moment Aaron’s grip slipped and he had fallen at his feet before other comrades pulled him out of danger. His hands shook as he put the glass on the table beside him and pressed his fingers against his temple, willing the images to recede. It was a disturbing dream that he hoped would fade in time, but as for the corrosive legacy of survivor’s guilt, he feared he would carry that for the rest of his days.
30
France 1916
Sarah was tired. It had been another gruelling shift. The toll of casualties was as relentless as it had been since she had arrived and her learning curve had been as steep as it had been swift.
Agnes had warned her in letters, but the reality of nursing close to the Front had been much starker than what Sarah had been told to expect.
The six-week voyage out from Port Albany seemed like a lifetime ago, but when she made the calculation she realised it was only eight weeks since she had reached Europe.
Her relationship with ambulance driver Ryan Mitchell had blossomed during the journey from Australia and she had also attracted the attention of Second Lieutenant Stuart Drayton, who made a point of introducing himself one evening as she had stood at the guard rail, the setting sun catching her hair as it blew in the sea breeze. She could hardly believe the attention she was receiving, and although she gently informed both men that she was married, she was trying very hard not to think about Michael. She did at rare quiet moments during a hectic shift wonder if Honoria had passed on the news that she wanted a divorce, striving to be as confident as her mother-in-law was that he would agree.
She pulled off her cap at the end of her shift, shaking her head so her hair fell free. Stretching, she was eager for her bed. Fatigue was a constant issue for her, never understanding how Agnes had grown accustomed to the daily toil during her time on Lemnos.
Many of the Australian troops who had survived the nightmare in the Dardanelles had been redeployed on the Western Front and she had been sent to the hospital close to the Gothic city of Rouen to tend them.
She slumped onto her bunk, trying to be quiet for a colleague in the adjoining bunk, and extracted Agnes’s latest letter. Her sister was still nursing in Cairo and she seemed content to remain there for as long as her husband was deployed at the hospital situated in the Gezirah Palace Hotel. She would love to be reunited with her elder sibling, but she understood why Agnes wanted to remain close to Lennox.
For herself she couldn’t rationalise why she was simultaneously attracting the attention of two eligible young men who could have their pick of other nurses. She had gently informed both Ryan Mitchell and Second Lieutenant Drayton that she couldn’t commit to either of them because she wasn’t free to do so and she wouldn’t under any circumstances jeopardise her chances of securing a divorce. It was, however, the opinion of some of those serving under him that Drayton “had it bad” for her and this fact had been passed on, although they kept secret the fact that he had surreptitiously taken a photograph of her in uniform. They accused him light-heartedly of being lovesick for Nurse Landseer, a condition for which there wasn’t a cure, and mostly he took their teasing well.
Although she liked both men equally, if forced she found Drayton a little too brash – and she’d had her fill of brash men, being married to Michael Landseer. Ryan was much quieter and modest, a characteristic which endeared him to her, but Drayton was dismissive of Mitchell as his rival, boasting Sarah couldn’t possibly prefer that “boy” to him. Each night when the lights were out Drayton would smoke his last cigarette, gazing at the image of Sarah, confident that if any man was going to win her favour, it was him.
Cairo – Spring 1916
It was one of life’s great ironies, which struck both Agnes and Lennox as poignant, that one of the last patients she treated in Cairo prior to receiving orders for transfer to France was Captain Tyson Mallory.
Agnes acknowledged that it was a demonstration of the measure of the man her husband was – given how he felt about Mallory – that he took her aside prior to her seeing him and told her gently that the prognosis wasn’t good and that he appeared to be struggling with the reality. His injured left arm just hadn’t healed swiftly enough and the wound had become infected, causing septicaemia, and he had a fever that was dangerously high when Agnes was first called upon to treat him.
She took a steadying breath and, squaring her shoulders, approached him.
Although she knew he wouldn’t be imbued with whisky, she was always uncertain what mood Mallory would be in. Lennox stood back with his arms folded watching Agnes talk to Mallory. He looked bad and Lennox was conflicted. He never liked seeing a patient suffer and know there was little to be done to relieve the pain, but that was the reality. Mallory’s septicaemia was too advanced. His body was shutting down and he would be lucky to survive the night. Lennox watched as Agnes laid a reassuring hand on Mallory’s shoulder. She had always been too generous to that damned man than he had ever deserved. His expression remained grave as she approached.
‘I am going to sit with him. Make his last hours comfortable. I am off-duty so it’s not a problem and Matron Bryan is OK with it.’
Lennox shook his head. ‘Well, I’m not. You should be coming home with me instead of being his private nurse for the night.’
Nurse Whitman stifled a giggle until the matron glared at her.
‘I am staying, Lennox, and if it was any other patient, you would be commending me for my devotion to duty.’
Lennox’s pride was hurt and he looked across at Mallory. He knew it was likely Mallory wouldn’t survive the next few hours, let alone until morning. Agnes was right. He knew it in his gut. If it were anyone but Mallory, he would be commending her for her devotion. It was just that he had a blinkered view when it came to Mallory. Aside from the fact he laid his life on the line in the service of his country and, if not this night then another, he would likely pay the ultimate price for his courage.
He felt Agnes’s hand on his arm, soft and encompassing.
‘I need to do this. I cannot explain my rationale, but I ask you to trust that I need to do this. For him, yes – but also for myself…’
Agnes nodded gently at Lennox as she moved her hand and turned very quietly to return to her patient. She heard footsteps echoing in the uneasy silence which descended on the ward, and when she looked around again, Lennox had gone.
As Agnes approached Mallory’s bed, he smiled. ‘I’m guessing I have incurred your husband’s wrath again? No matter, all bets are that I won’t survive the night and then he will be shot of me… You, Sister Ashworth, you are made of quality stock and you are probably too good for both of us…’
‘Ssh. Conserve your energy—’
Mallory snorted and said, ‘For what, the battle to come? I am done for. All the medics say as much. This wretched blood poisoning has become my biggest enemy and I have lost!’
Matron Bryan approached her and said, ‘You don’t have to stay. I can sit with him at intervals and Nurse Whitman is on hand…’
Agnes looked at Matron and shook her head. ‘He deserves better than her, even if he wasn’t always so discerning…’
‘I am still here… Besides, she’s not so bad, just very young. What is a man to do, Sister Ashworth? Miles from home when all the best women are already taken?’
Agnes smiled as she mopped his forehead, the sweat saturating him as the fever took an even greater hold. His voice, always so booming, so authoritative, had grown weak and weedy, and Agnes offered him her hand, which Mallory gripped so tightly it caused her to wince.
‘Will you be in trouble for staying at my side?’
Agnes shook her head. ‘He will understand… Might take him some time and he will sulk for as long as he can get away with.’
Mallory smiled again. ‘I don’t blame him for being jealous…’ He paused and she leaned in closer to him. ‘Thank you, Sister. Because we both know this is more than I deserved…’
Although her experience taught her to expect it, they proved to be Mallory’s last words. He drifted in and out of consciousness until just before dawn broke with a bright orange streak in the sky. Agnes was asleep and the first glare of sunlight woke her, and she knew in that instant as his hand felt cold and limp in hers that he had gone.
Within seconds she felt Matron Bryan’s hand on her shoulder, but she felt strangely numb. Captain Tyson Mallory had rejoiced in being a difficult man when he chose to be and she had fallen victim to his worst excesses once, and he had been right when he said that her personal kindness in his final hours was more than he had deserved.
She hadn’t done it just for him, or for some perverse motive to exert her authority over Lennox. She had done it for herself. To know that she had finally forgiven him for his lapse of judgement when they first arrived in Cairo and to confirm that he was like every other patient in her care, who deserved her utmost professionalism to the very last.
Field Hospital, Rouen, France – Spring 1916
In Egypt trips to see the Sphinx became a popular pastime for the Australian nurses when off-duty. They would pair up with army personnel and in horse-drawn carts drive into the desert at dusk. In Rouen, however, the Gothic cathedral was the focal point of interest and when ambulance driver Ryan Mitchell asked Sarah to go with him the first time, she was hesitant, conscious of wanting to avoid antipathy between herself and Second Lieutenant Drayton, or between him and Ryan, whose company she was increasingly coming to prefer. After much deliberation, however, and some discussion with her colleagues, she politely declined, although sorry then to see the disappointed look on his face, as he had believed he was making some progress in his pursuit of her. She had overheard, however, some of the idle chit-chat between patients who were serving under Second Lieutenant Drayton, and while some would include her in whatever gossip they heard about her without feeling embarrassed, others would look away shamefaced if they were ever caught exchanging or repeating any of Drayton’s boastful claims. So Sarah would bide her time, confident that Ryan would think she was worth waiting for and she would be ready to set the record straight if she heard Lieutenant Drayton being less than the gentleman that she would expect from someone of his rank.
As it was, she didn’t have to wait too long to confront Second Lieutenant Drayton over his conduct or threaten to report him to his CO. Because he received the news of her decision to decline Ryan Mitchell’s invitation into Rouen with too much gleefulness and word got back to her, that she must have realised it was a man she wanted to spend her precious off-duty time with, not a “mere boy”, as he so disparagingly liked to describe Ryan.
‘I am intrigued, Lieutenant, that you imply you know me so well to know who I would like to spend my precious off-duty moments with.’
Second Lieutenant Drayton shrugged nonchalantly. ‘I don’t know why you would limit your options.’
‘I am not aware that I am. Private Mitchell is very modest and respectful and kind, qualities that I am yet to find in you. I did decline him on this occasion, but I am sure he will ask me again and I will probably accept. I found your company equally amenable while we were on the ship, Lieutenant, and I was looking forward to spending some of my time with you also. Sadly you appear to have developed a habit for being overly brash and arrogant, and those are personality failings I suffered all too often from my husband to have now to endure them from you…’
Patients in adjoining beds smiled, until they caught the dark looks he was darting in their direction. Nurse Landseer might still be quite junior, but he was conscious she could still report him to Sister Gould, who would pass the complaint on to his CO. He would have to tread carefully.
