Ghost Soldier Page 10

  As he’d anticipated, groups of visitors were given guided tours of the public rooms downstairs, the bedrooms on the first floor, and even the staff quarters on the second floor. But when they came to a staircase leading to the third floor – the attic rooms – there was a barrier across the landing:

  STRICTLY PRIVATE – NO ENTRY

  STAFF ONLY

  Rob peered up the stairwell. It was from a window in a room on that floor that he’d seen the ghostly figure watching them. He whispered to Millie, ‘You go downstairs with the rest of the group. I want to explore the attic floor. Try to talk a lot so they don’t notice I’ve gone.’

  His sister didn’t need any encouragement. Talking was something that Millie was good at. Rob saw her aim straight for the doctor who was their guide and bombard him with questions.

  He studied one of the medical charts pinned to the wall, and then, as the rest of the group made their way downstairs, slipped under the barrier and ran lightly up to the attic floor.

  The corridor stretched ahead of him. Six doors – six rooms to investigate. Now that he was here, Rob wasn’t sure what he was looking for. A ghost? Ghosts didn’t exist. But there was something strange happening in the house.

  Most of the doors were standing open. Rob tiptoed along, peeking inside. Five ordinary rooms, each with two windows looking onto the front lawns: a couple of offices, a room with a cot bed and wardrobe, a bathroom and a kitchen. He came to the sixth door. It was shut. Cautiously Rob put his ear to the panel. Silence. He tried the door handle. It was locked. Then, from the stairwell, he heard voices. People approaching!

  Rob skipped into the bathroom.

  Two men. Arguing.

  ‘These people being in the clinic is holding up my work.’

  The voice was familiar. Rob peered through the gap behind the door to see who was speaking. It was the older man with the beard and glasses he’d seen when hiding in the bushes with Millie.

  ‘It’s only for one day, Professor Holt.’ His companion was placating him. ‘Showing the locals over the house satisfies their curiosity. It means they’ll be less inclined to wander in to see what’s going on. Prevents them from discovering who we really are.’

  Professor Holt gave a grim laugh. ‘You are right. Perhaps the villagers would not be so friendly if they knew what we are actually doing to the soldiers here.’

  ‘Indeed. That is why we must establish good public relations from the beginning. Now I should go downstairs and smooth over any awkward moments. You remain out of sight, for it’s possible that someone could pick up on your speech as having a German accent and start asking questions.’

  German accent!

  Rob reeled back. Could these men be German spies?

  When the other man had gone, Rob saw Professor Holt take a key from his waistcoat pocket. He unlocked the door of the room at the end of the corridor. Then he went inside and locked it behind him.

  As Rob rejoined Millie in the garden, his brain was whirling – thoughts and suspicions tumbling over each other. What were these men doing to British soldiers in the clinic? Rob stared up at the front of the building. Thirteen windows stared back at him. It struck him that the last window, the thirteenth, was in the room at the end of the corridor. The room with the locked door.

  The same window where he’d seen the ghost soldier.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  BUT INSTEAD OF staying away once the clinic was up and running, the villagers of Glendale did the opposite. A constant stream of visitors left gifts of soap and knitted goods, packets of tea and sweets. Offers of assistance poured in – to nurse or read to the wounded men.

  Within a few days a notice went up in the post office announcing that the officer in charge of Mill House Clinic, Major Cummings, would hold a public meeting in the village.

  Rob was standing beside Millie when the major marched into the school hall. His eyes widened as he heard him speak and realized that Major Cummings was the officer he’d overheard talking with Professor Holt in the attic corridor on the clinic open day. The man who had said: Now I should go downstairs and smooth over any awkward moments.

  Rob concentrated his gaze on Major Cummings. He seemed perfectly normal as he chatted to Miss Finlay and Mrs Shelby. Thanking the villagers for their generosity, he asked that, instead of them making the trip to Mill House, a member of the clinic staff would call regularly at Glendale post office to collect any donations.

  ‘Only relatives of the patients will be allowed to visit, and a special pass will be issued for this purpose.’ Major Cummings indicated a table where an army officer sat with papers and cards in front of him. ‘If you have been informed that you have a relative in Mill House Clinic, please speak to my adjutant, Doctor McKay, who is an experienced psychiatric doctor. If, in his opinion, the soldier is able to receive visitors, then he will give you a visiting pass. Every Sunday afternoon any patient who is fit enough to have a visitor will be in the main drawing room. Please understand that these regulations are necessary for the welfare of our soldiers.’

  As the people around him murmured agreement, it occurred to Rob that these arrangements also made it easier for Major Cummings and Professor Holt to keep secret whatever they were doing.

  Millie nudged him. ‘We need to get a visiting pass so we can go and ask the soldiers questions to help us find Daddy.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Rob. He had another reason for obtaining a pass. He wanted to find out what was happening in the locked attic room of Mill House. ‘But I don’t see how we can get one.’

  ‘Look!’ Millie pointed to where Mrs Otterby was speaking to Dr McKay. ‘Maybe Jack’s in the clinic. We could go with her at visiting time.’

  But when they approached Mrs Otterby, she was dabbing a tear from the corner of her eyes. ‘We got a letter telling us that Jack is to be sent to Mill House Clinic,’ she told them, ‘but Doctor McKay says we’ve not to get a pass at the moment. He’ll let us know when Jack’s well enough to have visitors.’ She patted Millie on the head. ‘I’ll send word to let you know when that happens. Then you can come along with me. Jack would like that, I’m sure.’

  Millie’s shoulders slumped. ‘We’re never going to get any news about Daddy.’

  Rob heard the quaver in his sister’s voice. Over the last weeks two more hospital trains had gone up the line, and both times Nurse Evans had stood at the door of a carriage shaking her head.

  ‘It could be months before we can visit the clinic.’

  ‘Maybe not,’ said Rob as a thought entered his head. ‘If Jack Otterby has been sent to Mill House, then there’s a chance that . . .’

  ‘What?’ asked Millie.

  But Rob had left her and was standing in front of Dr McKay. ‘Sir,’ he said in his most polite voice, ‘I’d like to enquire if a soldier we know is to be treated in Mill House Clinic. He is very close to our family,’ he added.

  ‘Name?’

  ‘Private Ames.’

  ‘Regiment?’

  Rob froze. He tried to visualize the scene inside the last carriage of the hospital train. The soldier kneeling, eyes tight shut, mumbling to himself.

  Dr McKay looked puzzled. ‘Private Ames cannot be so close to your family if you do not even know the name of his regiment.’

  ‘But he is!’

  ‘When were you last in touch with him?’

  ‘Not long ago. We know what’s wrong with his eyes.’

  ‘Spending time talking to people who suffer nervous debility does help.’ Millie appeared beside Rob, quoting what Nurse Evans had said. ‘People say I’m very good at talking and Private Ames likes my plum-jam sandwiches.’

  ‘Indeed.’ Dr McKay smiled. ‘I don’t wonder.’

  In his mind’s eye Rob saw Private Ames reaching to take a sandwich from Millie’s basket . . . his regimental badge: a running horse.

  ‘The West Yorkshires,’ Rob said. ‘Private Ames is with the West Yorkshire Regiment.’

  ‘Are you a relative?’


  ‘He’s a cousin of my father’s.’ Rob realized he was becoming more adept at lying.

  ‘It requires an adult to apply—’ the doctor began.

  ‘But our daddy is missing.’ Millie gave a sob. ‘Missing in action.’

  Rob was finding it hard to tell whether his sister was really upset or turning tears on for effect. He decided he might as well pitch in too, so he put his arm round her shoulder. ‘There, there,’ he consoled her in what he hoped was a sympathetic manner.

  ‘And Mummy has been so sad since the telegram arrived that she wasn’t able to come out today.’ Millie increased the volume of her sobs.

  ‘Oh, I see.’ Faced with a crying child and an utterly determined boy, Dr McKay asked for their surname. Then he wrote Gowrie Family visiting Private Ames on one of the official visiting passes. ‘You’ll be glad to know that your cousin is on the mend. He is allowed to have his hands free as he no longer scratches at his eyelids. You may visit him on Sundays, from two p.m. until four p.m.’

  ‘Thank you, sir,’ said Rob.

  ‘I hope you have word about your father soon,’ the doctor said as he gave Rob the pass.

  The following Sunday afternoon, when Rob and Millie visited the clinic, was one of driving rain.

  The nurse on duty read their visitor’s pass. She looked beyond them to the front door. ‘Don’t you have a parent with you?’

  ‘Our mother is unwell.’ Rob’s heart sank. It looked as if they wouldn’t be admitted unless an adult was with them. But he’d reckoned without Millie.

  ‘And Daddy is missing in the war,’ Millie said. She sniffled and rubbed her eyes.

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.’

  ‘I’ve brought Private Ames some sandwiches with jam that Mummy made.’ Millie held up her basket. ‘He does love jam sandwiches.’

  ‘I think Private Ames is in the drawing room,’ said the nurse. ‘You can take off your wellington boots while I go and check.’

  Rob and Millie put their boots on the bottom of the hallstand. Photographs were ranged along the wall. One showed a young man in army uniform. Rob looked more closely. On it was written:

  Edward – October 1914

  October was the month their father had gone away.

  ‘Is he the ghost soldier?’ Millie raised herself onto her tiptoes to look at the photograph.

  ‘There’s no such thing as ghosts,’ Rob said automatically. ‘Look, the nurse is beckoning to us.’

  There were half a dozen men in the drawing room. Some already had visitors sitting beside them chatting quietly. The nurse indicated a man who was sitting on the piano stool trying to pick notes out on the keys. His head was bent and he was mumbling to himself. Without hesitating Millie went over and touched him on the shoulder.

  ‘Do you remember me? I’m Millie Gowrie.’ She lowered her voice. ‘I was on the hospital train a few weeks ago when you were in the end carriage with Jack Otterby. But I’ve not to tell that we were on the train or what happened.’

  Private Ames raised his head. His eyes were still shut tight. ‘I do remember you!’ he exclaimed. He reached out to find Millie’s hand. ‘The girl with the plum-jam sandwiches. I don’t suppose you’ve got any with you today?’ he asked.

  ‘I do!’ said Millie. ‘I always bring them with me when I’m going to see soldiers, in case—’ She stopped.

  ‘Did you think your daddy might be here?’

  ‘He’s not,’ Millie said bravely, ‘so you’re welcome to have them, Mr—’ She stopped. ‘I don’t even know your first name.’

  ‘My first name?’ Private Ames heaved a sigh that seemed to come from his boots. ‘I think I am Humpty Dumpty.’

  ‘Humpty Dumpty!’ Millie laughed. ‘That’s not your name.’

  ‘Well, if we’ve got Jack the Lad, and you’re Little Bo-Peep looking for a lost daddy sheep, then I can be Humpty Dumpty.’

  ‘Why would you be Humpty Dumpty?’ Millie asked him.

  ‘Because I’m broken in bits.’

  ‘Not every bit of you is broken,’ she said. ‘Just a little bit of you is broken. And the doctors and nurses will try to mend you.’

  ‘All the King’s horses and all the King’s men couldn’t put Humpty Dumpty together again.’

  ‘You’re not Humpty Dumpty,’ Millie said firmly, ‘and Doctor McKay is a nice doctor. It might take a long while, but he will help you.’

  ‘Will you come and visit me?’

  ‘Of course I will,’ said Millie. She glanced at Rob. ‘We could visit any of the sick soldiers.’

  ‘Not all of them,’ Private Ames said. ‘You can’t visit all of them – only the ones who can come downstairs on a Sunday afternoon. That is, only the ones they allow to come downstairs.’

  ‘Is anyone from the Border Guards regiment in the clinic?’ Rob asked.

  ‘Shhh!’ Private Ames put his finger to his lips. ‘Don’t be getting me into bother. We’ve not to say who is here and who isn’t.’

  ‘We know that the soldier who was in the train with you is here,’ said Rob. ‘Jack Otterby. How is he doing?’

  ‘Jack the Lad? He’s Jack o’ Lantern now. Sleeps when it’s light and gets up when it’s dark. Wanders in the gardens with his lamp, looking for German spies. Says there’s one right here in this clinic.’

  Rob’s breath caught in his throat. ‘Who does he think is a German spy? Is it one of the doctors?’

  Private Ames put his hand to his brow. ‘The German spy is inside Jack’s head. Even I am not crazy enough to believe him. The magic beans don’t work for him. That’s what they keep giving us. Magic beans to make us better. But some are too sick. Like me. Poor old Humpty Dumpty will never be the way he was before,’ he said sadly. A long tear oozed from under his eyelid.

  Millie put up her finger to catch it. ‘You can make a wish,’ she said, ‘if you catch your own tear and taste it.’ She held it to his lips.

  The soldier put out his tongue. ‘It’s salty,’ he said.

  ‘That’s because it’s magic,’ Millie told him. ‘Did you make your wish?’

  ‘I’ll do it now. Do you want to know what I wished for?’

  ‘No. You must keep it a secret – otherwise it will not come true.’

  ‘If it does come true,’ Private Ames said, ‘you’ll be the first to know.’

  ‘That will be why Jack can’t have visitors, if he only gets up when it’s dark,’ Rob said to Millie as they left Mill House at the end of visiting time.

  ‘But Nurse Evans said that stressed soldiers need to talk to someone.’

  ‘Jack didn’t talk to us,’ said Rob. ‘Well, not in a way that made any sense.’

  ‘He talked to Nell.’

  ‘Oh!’ said Rob. ‘So he did.’ Millie was right. Jack had been much more relaxed speaking to Nell.

  ‘You’re thinking of a plan.’ Millie was watching Rob’s face. ‘I can tell.’

  ‘I could come back at night with Nell,’ said Rob, ‘when Jack is outside in the gardens, and see if he can tell me what happened to the Border Guards.’

  ‘I’m coming with you,’ said Millie.

  ‘No you’re not,’ said Rob. ‘It’s too dangerous.’

  ‘There’s no danger that Nell can’t protect us from.’ Millie gave Rob a hard stare. ‘Unless you’ve only been pretending that you don’t believe in ghosts.’

  Rob looked away. His sister must have picked up on his change of mood the night he’d seen the white figure at the upstairs window of the big house.

  Sensing his discomfort, she went on, ‘If you go without me, I’ll follow you and that would be worse ’cos I’d be walking across the fields and through the woods on my own. You can’t stop me ’cos you can’t report me to any adult.’ Millie stepped in front of him to block his way and folded her arms. ‘Well?’ she demanded.

  Rob flung his hands in the air. ‘All right, then! We’ll both come back here tonight after Mummy has gone to bed.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  ROB DIDN
’T LIKE to admit it, even to himself, but he was actually glad of Millie’s company that night when they returned to the big house.

  The moon was bright in the sky, but Rob kept the shutter of the storm lantern open as they entered the wood. He wanted light around them to scare away any nocturnal creatures scuttling in the undergrowth.

  Private Ames had told them that he and Jack shared a room and he knew that Jack sneaked out through the coal cellar. When Ames had asked Jack what he was doing, Jack had said not to worry, that he’d patrol round the house all night, staring up at the windows and keeping guard for him.

  Millie had brought her basket of sandwiches and Rob a blanket, which he draped around their shoulders as they sat under a willow tree and waited.

  It was Nell who alerted them by standing up, her nose pointing towards the house.

  Rob tapped Millie on the shoulder. Within the dark entrance to the coal cellar was a denser shade. The outline of a man, moving slowly. Without warning he dashed across the grass to the shelter of the bushes. It was Jack. He was dressed in his army uniform and, holding a stick in his hands, pacing up and down.

  ‘What should we do?’ Millie whispered.

  ‘We can’t call out his name or approach him,’ said Rob, ‘in case he raises the alarm.’

  ‘Send Nell,’ she suggested.

  Rob knelt and spoke to his dog. Nell padded across the lawn. They saw Jack bend down and heard him speak her name in recognition. Then he peered into the darkness. ‘Who goes there?’ he demanded. ‘Friend or foe?’

  ‘Friends,’ said Millie. ‘It’s Millie and Rob come to visit you, Jack.’

  ‘Advance and be recognized,’ he commanded.

  Without hesitation Millie ran silently to meet him. Rob followed her, arriving in time to hear her ask, ‘What are you doing, Jack?’

  Jack peered suspiciously at her, then Rob. Nell nudged his leg and his body relaxed. ‘I’m patrolling the perimeter,’ he told them. ‘It’s up to me. No one else sees the danger. I’ve got to keep a lookout for German spies. If I catch any, then I know how to deal with them. See! I stole this yesterday!’ Moonlight gleamed white on the steel object he was holding up.