Hope - Lesley Pearse [248]
Every single day she waited with trepidation for the post. There had been two more letters from Angus, but they were full of the news of Sebastopol falling, of riding into the city and the sights of devastation he’d seen there, for he hadn’t yet received any of her or Nell’s letters asking about Bennett.
She had written to the Rifle Brigade barracks at Winchester to ask if they could tell her anything, and to Dr Anderson at the Balaclava hospital, asking him if could enlighten her about what had happened. She had also penned several letters to Bennett too at Scutari, hoping they would reach him. They were so difficult to write, for if he was alive but very sick, she couldn’t worry him by showing her fears and anxiety. But to be forced to write bright breezy notes about his beautiful daughter and the mundane news of home when in her heart she felt he’d never read them, was almost impossible.
There were times too when she felt like raging at the normality all around her. It didn’t seem right that while her mind was tormented with whether he was alive or dead, Nell was asking her what she’d like to eat for dinner, or should they go into Keynsham and buy some material for a newdress?
The newspapers continued to report on the progress of the war. Sebastopol had fallen on 9 September, which indicated peace would soon be declared. Yet it riled Hope that all anyone seemed to be interested in was who would be commended for valour, or promoted. The government didn’t appear to be making any plans for the wounded, who might never be able to work again, or for the wives and families of the men who had died out there.
She knew Uncle Abel was lobbying anyone he could for information about Bennett, but even he had told her quite sharply that he also had patients to attend to.
She silently cursed the time it took post to reach England; the restraints of motherhood had prevented her from going to Winchester and demanding an explanation from the regiment in person. She told herself it was only three months since the date Bennett last wrote, which in reality wasn’t so very long, but it seemed like eternity to her.
‘I really don’t know how Mother will hold up this winter,’ Rufus said as they drove through the village of Corston. ‘Last year she was crippled with rheumatism and stayed in bed a great deal, and I can only expect that it will be worse this year.’
‘It must be a very bleak life for her,’ Hope said in sympathy, thinking back to the days when Nell dressed her and arranged her hair, and she went out visiting in her carriage most afternoons. ‘Does anyone call to see her?’
‘Not really,’ he sighed. ‘Reverend Gosling does, and the Warrens, but their visits are becoming less frequent. I can’t blame them, for she can be so very odd and difficult. I feel I ought to stay in with her more than I do, but how can I when there is so much to do on the farm?’
He turned his head and smiled at Hope. ‘But let’s not talk about gloomy things. We must make the most of today, and I can hardly wait to show you my plans for the stable block. It will make a good-sized house, and as the roof is good, and the pump right outside the door, it won’t cost too much. Matt, Joe and Henry have all offered to help me, and Geoffrey Calway will do the carpentry.’
‘He must be getting old now,’ Hope said, remembering the man who made her parents’ coffins. ‘How is his wife? She was very kind to me when Mother and Father died.’
‘Still as funny as ever,’ Rufus said. ‘You were probably too young then to appreciate what a character she is – seeing her is like getting a dose of sunshine. But then, the village is full of good people. When Bennett returns I think you should come back. There is no doctor now, everyone is always complaining about it.’
Hope liked the positive way he said ‘when’ Bennett returns. ‘I’d like that,’ she said, imagining living in a little cottage on the common, close enough to walk to Matt and Rufus, and Betsy growing up doing all the things she