Ghost Soldier Read online

  He and Millie had arrived early, and as the train approached, Rob saw that the engine was pulling more carriages than the previous one. Farmer Gordon had come down to lend a hand and make sure there was enough water in the new tank. The engine driver and fireman were working fast, so Rob knew he didn’t have much time to get all the way along the train. Their manner was different this time. They kept their heads bent and seemed reluctant to chat.

  Millie had loaded her basket with sandwiches wrapped in brown paper, which she wanted to give to the medical orderlies for distribution to the wounded soldiers. Rob left her at the water tank with strict instructions not to move from there, then ran down the line. As he went, he called out, ‘Nurse Evans? It’s Rob – Rob from the farm. Are you there?’

  In the centre of the train Rob noticed that there was a carriage with windows of frosted glass. What was going on in there that had to be kept private?

  Nurse Evans popped her head out of one of the doors and spoke rapidly. ‘No news,’ she told Rob. ‘I’m sorry. No news.’

  ‘What’s the special carriage for?’ Rob asked her.

  ‘Surgery,’ she replied. ‘We’ve set up an operating theatre on the train. It’s for emergency cases.’

  Her apron was marked with fresh blood, stained as red as the cape she wore. If the men were emergency cases, why not keep them in France? Or operate on them during the Channel crossing? Maybe there weren’t enough military doctors there. Weren’t there more in Folkestone or Southampton? Why wait to operate on soldiers on a moving train?

  ‘Please go home now. We’re very busy.’

  ‘You won’t forget about my dad, will you?’

  Nurse Evans managed a smile. ‘I won’t forget. Off you go.’ Before she turned to go inside, Rob thought he saw her brush a tear from her cheek.

  As he returned to Millie, he could hear sounds he’d missed when running along the line. Men were moaning and calling for morphine. Coming up to the water tank, he caught part of the conversation the fireman was having with Mr Gordon. ‘. . . The big pushes don’t get us very far. They seem to have more advanced weapons. I don’t understand that. Time was, the British Army could outgun and outfight the world.’

  ‘Dad’s not on this train,’ Rob told Millie.

  She was crestfallen, but said, ‘I’ll give my sandwiches to the engine driver to pass on to Nurse Evans.’ She looked around. ‘No one else has got off the train.’

  Rob reckoned the medical orderlies – indeed, all the staff – would have their hands full dealing with the wounded. ‘Good idea,’ he said. ‘You do that, and then we’ll go.’ He wanted to leave before Millie heard the terrible groans coming from the men on this train.

  ‘You may keep a sandwich for yourself,’ Millie told the driver, who appeared to have forgiven them for getting on his train on the previous occasion. ‘Will you keep a lookout for my dad?’

  ‘Millie,’ he said as he took the parcels from her, ‘every train driver in Britain is keeping a lookout for your dad.’

  On Sunday Rob told his mother that he’d take Millie berrying for raspberries and brambles. First they visited Sandy. Millie had brought a length of thick string to use as a lead so that he wouldn’t run away when she took him outside to exercise. Afterwards they had put him back, and instead of spending the rest of the day picking berries, they walked three miles across the fields to the Otterby farm.

  ‘Listen, Millie,’ Rob said to his sister as they went up the farm lane, ‘we must be very careful what we say to Mr and Mrs Otterby. Remember we’re not supposed to let anyone know that we were on the train. And we shouldn’t tell them that Jack is sick in his head.’

  ‘But we have to let them know that he’s going to be in a hospital in Edinburgh. Maybe they don’t even know that he’s alive.’

  Rob thought for a moment. ‘We could say he waved to us from the window and we recognized him.’

  ‘Yes, that’s a good idea.’

  ‘But we’ll only say that if we have to. Hopefully they’ll tell us their news without us having to mention the hospital train.’

  Rob knocked on the door of the farmhouse. It was opened by Mrs Otterby. He had his speech prepared:

  ‘I hope you don’t mind us calling by. You might not know us – we are Rob and Millie Gowrie from Glendale village. We live in End Cottage over the hill from Glebe Farm.’

  ‘Of course I know you! And if I didn’t recognize you, then I’d know Nell – the best sheepdog in the county. Look, Mr Otterby . . .’ Mrs Otterby addressed her husband. ‘It’s Millie and Rob Gowrie, and they’ve got Nell with them.’

  Mr Otterby, who was mending boots by the fire, raised his hand in greeting. Mrs Otterby did the talking for two.

  ‘I’m sure I’ve something you would like to eat.’ She lifted the lid of a cake tin. ‘Ah, I thought so.’ The smell of home baking and icing wafted through the room. ‘Take a seat at the table and I’ll cut you a slice. It won’t compare with your mother’s, though. Her cakes are always in high demand at the county fair.’

  Rob was glad Millie’s mouth was full of cake. Their mother hadn’t baked anything but bread in the last weeks. But news travels fast, and bad news travels fastest, so he wasn’t too taken aback when Mrs Otterby said tentatively, ‘Your dad went to the war, didn’t he?’

  ‘Yes,’ Rob said, adding, ‘Like your son, Jack.’

  ‘I heard your mother’s been poorly after getting one of those “missing in action” telegrams. Well, tell her not to take on so. We got one too, but now we’ve been told that Jack is on his way home.’

  ‘We know,’ said Millie.

  ‘You do?’ Mrs Otterby said in surprise.

  Millie nodded. ‘That’s why we came to see you.’

  ‘It beats me how you knew,’ said Mrs Otterby, ‘because we only got word last night.’ She reached up and took down a letter which was propped up against the clock on the mantelpiece.

  ‘We saw him.’ The words were out of Millie’s mouth before Rob could stop her.

  ‘You saw him? Mercy me! You saw our Jack?’ Mrs Otterby sat down heavily on a chair.

  ‘On the hospital train, when we—’ Millie stopped, realizing she was talking too much. ‘I mean, we think we saw him. That is, it looked like him.’

  ‘Where? Where did you see him?’

  Mr Otterby paused in the act of hammering a seg onto the sole of his boot.

  Millie pressed her lips together. She gave Rob an agonized look.

  ‘Um’ – Rob fumbled for a suitable story – ‘we were getting our milk from Glebe Farm the other morning, and a hospital train went by on its way to Edinburgh. Full of soldiers, it was, and . . . and someone waved to us from the train. And it looked like Jack.’

  ‘Oh my,’ said Mrs Otterby. She addressed her husband. ‘Did you hear that, dear? Jack waved to the children from the train. Now that’s a hopeful sign, isn’t it?’

  ‘What did he say in his letter?’ Rob asked. ‘Did he say where he’d been in France? Does he mention what was happening with the regiment?’

  ‘Has he seen our daddy?’ Millie chimed in. ‘Would he know where he is?’

  ‘Oh, children!’ Mrs Otterby laughed and held up her hand. ‘He didn’t actually write the letter himself.’ She glanced at her husband. He bent his head and continued re-soling his boot. ‘But Jack’s alive and all of a piece, and I’m happy for that at least.’ She looked at her husband again. His gaze remained on his work.

  ‘Could we go and visit him please?’ Rob asked. ‘We could chat for a bit and maybe he could tell us something – anything – about the Border Guards.’

  ‘We’ve been told no visiting allowed. Not until he’s a bit better. He’s got’ – she hesitated – ‘a long road of recovery ahead of him.’

  Mr Otterby got up and went outside.

  ‘Why not?’ asked Millie. ‘Chatting is good for sick soldiers. Nurse Evans said—Ow!’

  Underneath the table Rob kicked his sister quite hard on the leg.

 
; ‘Nurse Evans?’ Mrs Otterby looked from Rob to Millie and back again.

  Rob stood up. ‘We have to go. Thank you for the cake.’

  Mr Otterby was standing at the farm gate looking out over the fields. He whistled to his own sheepdogs, tipped his cap to Rob, and then walked away towards the hills. Nell looked longingly after him, as though she too wanted to be roaming free. Rob clicked his fingers to bring his dog to heel and set off swiftly towards Glendale.

  ‘I’m sorry, Rob.’ Millie was jogging to keep up with him. ‘I didn’t mean to say Nurse Evans’s name.’

  ‘You need to learn to keep your mouth shut! If you blab what we know to everybody we meet, then the army will find out and put a big fence along the railway track and we’ll never get to speak to Nurse Evans again.’

  ‘I’m really, really sorry.’ Millie was crying. ‘I’ll never do it again. It was just that Mrs Otterby is so keen for news, like us. And . . . and Mr Otterby seems embarrassed about Jack.’

  Rob couldn’t stay angry at his sister for long. And he’d noticed Mr Otterby’s manner too. ‘Maybe he’s ashamed that Jack isn’t wounded in the regular way. It’s not so honourable to be hurt in the head.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘It could look like Jack was being cowardly. Like he didn’t want to fight. When people are hurt on their body, they get sympathy, but if there’s something wrong inside their head, then they get laughed at, or mocked.’

  ‘Why is that?’

  Rob shrugged. ‘I don’t know. It’s harder for a doctor to heal the inside sickness. And the person can’t seem to help themselves.’

  ‘Like Mummy.’ Millie’s voice was barely a whisper.

  Before going home Rob and Millie went to check on Sandy again. Rob studied the bar of wood before removing it to go into the shed. It wasn’t quite in the same place. So either an animal or a human being had disturbed it. It couldn’t have been a ghost who had done it. Ghosts didn’t have to open doors. They could glide through.

  Millie took the puppy outside, tethered him to a bush and let him scamper around.

  Nell was restless. Pacing, and sniffing in corners. She gazed at Rob as if trying to tell him something.

  ‘Have you picked up a scent? What is it?’ Rob put his mouth close to Nell’s ear so that his sister wouldn’t hear. But she was playing with her puppy in the clearing around the hut and chatting to him nonstop, too preoccupied to be listening in.

  Rob was on edge. After five minutes he said to Millie, ‘Put Sandy back in his cage and let’s go home. We’ve been away from Mummy long enough today.’

  They left, crawling through the tunnel into the rhododendrons, and then made their way through the trees to the path, when—

  A shadow! By a silver birch, taller than any woodland creature, a figure approached. Nell bristled. Rob signalled to Millie and they concealed themselves behind a tree trunk.

  The branches parted. A young deer flitted through the trees, pausing to stare at them – its wide eyes two deep pools of darkness. Rob’s heart was banging in his chest. They were about to continue along the path when Nell growled and went on alert, taking a stance in front of Rob and Millie.

  Then they both heard the noise of an engine. It was a lorry coming up the main avenue. Gravel sputtered from beneath its tyres as it stopped. Millie squeezed herself close to her brother.

  ‘There’s nothing to be scared of,’ said Rob. ‘Wait here with Nell while I go and investigate.’ He moved softly round the side of the house.

  The front door was standing open. Two men were unloading cardboard boxes from a truck and carrying them inside. One was around the age of Rob’s father and dressed in a major’s uniform. The other was much older, with a beard and spectacles.

  They worked in silence. When they’d finished, the older man began a conversation, speaking English with a strong foreign accent. ‘We’ll bring the rest of the equipment tomorrow and hide it before the medical staff and patients arrive.’

  The major nodded. ‘This new clinic is the perfect cover for our project.’

  The older man took him by the shoulder and spoke urgently. ‘Take the utmost care how you manage this. No one – and I mean no one – must detect the secret work that I will be doing here.’

  Making sure that his feet did not crunch on the gravel, Rob backed away from the door.

  ‘What’s happening?’ Millie asked him as he led her towards the wall, the wood and home.

  ‘There were two men taking boxes from the truck into Mill House. They talked about setting up a clinic for wounded soldiers, but then they said something else.’

  ‘Who are they? What did they say?’

  ‘I’m not sure. One of them had an unusual accent, so I don’t know if I heard properly . . .’

  Rob decided that he wouldn’t tell Millie that the army might be planning to use Mill House as a secret headquarters. It was enough that she had to keep quiet about the hidden puppy. Tomorrow at school he could ask Kenneth if his dad had heard anything.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  AS OFTEN HAPPENED in Glendale village, it was the postmistress, Mrs Shelby, who was first with the information.

  ‘Mill House is to be converted into a convalescent home for wounded soldiers,’ she announced to her morning customers. Rob manoeuvred himself nearer.

  ‘It will be officers only,’ someone said.

  ‘I’ve heard it’s for ordinary soldiers’ – Mrs Shelby gave her audience a significant look – ‘but it’s for special cases, if you understand my meaning.’

  Rob didn’t understand. Did Mrs Shelby mean that it was for soldiers who were dying? When he got to school, he found that Kenneth had more details.

  ‘My dad says that they’re going to convert Mill House into a nursing clinic, but not for the physically wounded. It’s for those whose nerves have gone. They’re supposed to shake so much they can’t hold a gun to fire it. I don’t believe that shell shock is a real illness,’ Kenneth added. ‘I mean, you’d shake a lot if you were really frightened that you were going to die, wouldn’t you? That’s normal.’

  ‘I’m not sure . . .’ Rob chewed his lip. He couldn’t say anything about the incident on the hospital train. But after meeting Private Ames and Jack Otterby, he definitely did believe that shell shock was a real illness.

  ‘It’s not a reason to be sent home,’ Kenneth went on. ‘If everybody who was scared was sent home, then there would be no soldiers left to fight the war.’

  Rob longed to discuss the condition of the soldiers on the train with his friend, but he’d given his word to Captain Morrison that he’d remain quiet. The captain was relying on him to do his bit to keep morale high – it was as important to do that on the Home Front as it was on the battlefield, he’d said. And, in return, he’d promised to make it his business to find out about Rob’s father. They’d exchanged a proper salute. It was a bond of honour.

  ‘I wonder if the patients will be allowed visitors,’ Kenneth went on. ‘I’d like to see someone who’s supposed to have shell shock.’

  ‘I’ll come with you if you like,’ Rob offered, thinking it would be a good opportunity to try to find out what secret work was taking place inside Mill House.

  ‘You could take your mum with you when you go, Rob Gowrie . . .’ Jed was eavesdropping. ‘But they might not let her out again.’

  Rob shoved Jed violently. ‘You’re worried that they’ll put you in there and throw away the key!’

  ‘I doubt if the doctors at the new clinic will welcome visitors,’ Miss Finlay commented when she heard what was happening at Mill House. ‘Complete rest and quiet is what’s needed for those with nervous debility. I know that it’s been common practice to go into the woods to snare a rabbit for the pot. But best to stay out of that area and not encroach on the grounds of the estate.’

  ‘It’s haunted anyway,’ said Kate Ward.

  ‘There’s no such thing as ghosts,’ Kenneth scoffed.

  ‘Yes there is,’ she insisted. ‘Mrs Shelby
at the post office has seen the pale face of the ghost soldier in his long white burial shroud. That’s why people in the village avoid it.’ Several of the girls nodded, agreeing with Kate.

  Jed gave Rob a sly look. ‘Doesn’t stop some folk from sneaking up there, though, does it?’

  Rob stared at Jed. What did he mean by that remark?

  ‘Don’t mind him,’ said Kenneth. ‘Come and see what’s happening outside.’

  Rob went to the window. An army recruiting wagon was drawing up outside the school.

  Miss Finlay sighed. ‘Another early dismissal for the school, I expect.’

  To the disappointment of the pupils, the army officers waited until the end of the school day before setting up their recruiting station in the school hall. Rob and Kenneth dallied to watch them carrying in weighing scales, a height-measuring stick and a screen behind which medical examinations would take place. They offered to help, but the recruiting sergeant wasn’t as friendly as Lieutenant Polden.

  ‘Be off out of here!’ he told the boys. ‘I don’t want children hanging around.’

  The boys separated, Kenneth heading home towards the centre of the village, and Rob to where Millie was waiting for him to walk up the hill road to their cottage.

  ‘Look, Rob!’ said Millie. ‘Jed has joined the queue!’

  Jed was standing in line at the school entrance behind a few other local lads.

  ‘Good,’ said Rob. ‘It’ll stop him bothering us in the playground.’

  ‘But he can’t go,’ Millie exclaimed. ‘He’s too young and he’s needed at home. How would his mummy manage without him? Our mummy wouldn’t get by without you.’

  ‘It’s not our business,’ said Rob. ‘Ask Pearl and Daisy to stop him. He’s their big brother.’

  ‘He won’t listen to them.’

  ‘Well, there’s even less chance that he would listen to us.’

  ‘Miss Finlay could do it.’ Millie pointed to where their teacher was entering the baker’s shop on the main street. ‘You could ask her.’

  ‘It’s nothing to do with us.’