Chapter Fourteen #2
‘Grace might go,’ Caroline said slowly, though she felt uncomfortable even suggesting it.
‘Grace?’ Tilly raised her eyebrows. ‘I … I’ll ask Benny, of course. But you were the one Trevor had his eye on.’
Just as she was struggling to formulate a response to that, a loud knock came at the back door, then the door to the porch creaked open and someone poked a head round.
‘Hello?’ It was a telegram boy, easily recognisable by his navy-blue uniform with smart red piping, topped by his matching pillbox hat with a GPO crown.
‘No dogs about, are there?’ Many visitors to the farm had a lively fear of Joe’s newest dog, young Pip, who tended to chase after them when Joe wasn’t about to call him to heel.
Caroline and Tilly stared at each other in astonished silence.
‘No, the dogs are in the other room.’ Tilly bounded to the door. ‘Goodness, a telegram?’
‘Just came in over the wires at Eastern House,’ the boy told her proudly. ‘Mr Cotterill wrote it up himself and asked me to cycle straight over before it got too dark to see.’
In the snug, Joe’s farm dogs started to bark, no doubt hearing a stranger’s voice in the kitchen. The boy glanced towards the door, startled, and gulped.
‘But who’s it for?’ Tilly took it from his gloved hands. ‘Oh my …’ Her voice died away.
‘It’s a telegram for Miss Ponsby.’ The boy, who looked about sixteen, peered at Tilly’s face. ‘Is that you, Miss?’
Tilly shook her head silently.
‘What?’ Caroline gave a gasp. ‘For … For me?’ Her voice was a squeak. ‘No, that can’t be right. I … I never get telegrams.’
‘It’s your name on the envelope, Caro.’ Slowly, Tilly turned, holding out the telegram in its thin buff envelope. Sure enough, it was addressed to her, with the official ‘GPO Telegram’ heading.
‘Sorry, Miss.’ The telegram boy gave her an apologetic smile and hurried away, pulling the door shut behind him.
Violet Postbridge came out of the snug at that moment, Joe at her shoulder. The dogs ran out ahead of them, barking frantically now and pawing at the door to the farmyard. ‘What on earth …?’
‘Heel!’ Joe told the dogs, who fell back at his stern voice, their tails wagging furiously.
Mrs Newton had also appeared in the doorway, staring out of the snug. ‘Blimey, I never heard such a bloomin’ racket … Girls? What’s happened?’
‘Caro got a telegram,’ Tilly told them breathlessly. ‘It came in through Eastern House. The boy’s just gone.’
Everyone looked at Caroline, who swallowed and bent her gaze to the sinister envelope in her hand.
‘Must be urgent, or whoever it’s from would have sent a letter,’ Joe remarked unnecessarily, and whistled sharply to young Pip, who had gone back to the farmhouse door.
Pip returned to his side at once but with his tail still thumping excitedly, peering up at his master.
‘Calm down now, boy. Blow me, this new dog’s a handful. ’
‘Open it then,’ Violet urged her.
But Caroline stood frozen, holding her breath. The telegram had to be from her family back home in West London. Who else would have sent her an urgent message? Her heart began to thump violently as her brain whirled, going through all the possibilities … Had somebody died?
‘Best leave the girl alone, eh?’ Mrs Newton nudged her daughter meaningfully. ‘Ain’t none of our business. Come on, you two … I hadn’t finished telling you about that Mrs Newbury-Holmes.’ And she pulled Violet back into the snug.
But Joe, no doubt eager to escape his mother-in-law’s tales of her Penzance trip, mumbled something about needing to check on the pigs and headed into the porch to pull on his boots and coat.
The dogs milled about him eagerly, young Pip starting to bark again, much to the farmer’s irritation.
‘Give over barking, Pip!’ he grumbled before hurrying outside, both dogs slinking at his heel.
They were alone again in the kitchen. Tilly looked at Caroline sympathetically. ‘Do you want me to stay while you open it?’
Caroline shook her head, unable to say a word.
‘In that case, I’ll be upstairs if you need me,’ Tilly murmured, and disappeared, discreetly leaving her alone with the telegram.
Caroline turned it over in her hands, her heart thumping, still trying to guess the contents.
It had been some weeks since her last letter from her parents, and they’d given no indication that anything might be wrong at home.
So only something truly awful and unexpected could have merited a telegram, of all things …
As she reluctantly began to tear open the envelope, she heard footsteps on the stairs. Grace appeared in the kitchen, breathless and with her hair arranged in plump, soft braids drawn into a bun at the nape of her neck.
‘Tilly says you’ve got a telegram?’ When Caroline nodded, showing her the envelope, she went on impatiently, ‘All right, who’s it from? What’s it about?’ Grace tutted at her helpless look. ‘You haven’t read it yet, have you? But it must be urgent … What are you waiting for?’
Instead of replying, Caroline dragged out the single sheet and read the message over several times to herself without taking it in.
‘Well?’ Her friend came closer, her eyes wide. ‘What does it say? Please, Caro, you’re worrying me now.’
Swallowing, Caroline read the telegram out loud in a faltering voice. ‘Grandmother at death’s door. Come home at once. Father.’
There was a short silence, broken by Caroline’s sob as the words finally made sense to her.
‘Oh, Caro, I’m so sorry.’ Grace pulled her into her a fierce hug and Caroline wept into her shoulder.
When she pulled back, Caroline reached for her hanky. ‘I … I can’t believe it. Gran’s always been a picture of health. I wish I knew what was wrong.’
Grace had taken the telegram and was reading it herself. ‘Nine words exactly,’ she pointed out, and pulled a face. Telegrams were charged at ninepence for the first nine words only, further words being more expensive. ‘Cheaper not to go into detail.’
Caroline couldn’t reply, still weeping into her hanky. Her head was reeling … Could Gran have been involved in a terrible accident? Or had she caught that particularly bad strain of influenza that was going around? Even previously healthy people had been knocked sideways by the flu before now.
She wasn’t sure what to do for the best. Home was so far away, a long day’s journey.
The awful truth was the old lady’s health might have worsened in the time it had taken the telegram to arrive.
She could even have died. Again, she wished she knew the exact situation.
If only they’d already had a telephone installed at the farm …
‘I have to go,’ she blurted out, stumbling to the porch in search of coat and boots. ‘I need to catch the next train home.’
But Grace followed her. ‘Look, I know you’re upset,’ she said gently. ‘I would be too. But you can’t leave until tomorrow. You’ve already missed the last bus to Penzance train station today.’
Caroline groaned, feeling caught in a nightmare. Tomorrow might be too late. But what choice did she have?
‘Besides, you need to get some food down you before rushing off. And to pack a bag. You don’t know how long you’ll be gone, remember.’ Grace hesitated. ‘Listen, do you want me to come with you tomorrow, if Joe can spare us both?’
‘Take you back to London with me? Oh no, I …’ Caroline gave a stuttering, nonsensical reply, struck dumb by the idea of Grace travelling home with her on the bus and train, then being introduced to her parents.
The thought was unspeakably wonderful, a cosy hug at a moment of dreadful unhappiness.
Yet it was also terrifying. For she wouldn’t be able to hide her feelings for such a long period, would she?
And her sharp-eyed mother would be bound to spot her partiality for Grace, and there would be embarrassing questions and recriminations, and then her overprotective father would probably put his foot down and try to stop Caroline ever leaving home again …
Besides, what would Grace say if she gave herself away like that? Would her friend ever speak to her again once she knew that Caroline liked her far, far too much?
‘No, you’re right. It would only complicate everything,’ Grace answered for her at once, practical and understanding.
‘Look, maybe Joe will run you down to the bus first thing tomorrow to save time. You go ask him; I’ll start packing a bag for you.
’ And with that, she hurried away, leaving Caroline alone and in tears, that awful telegram staring back at her like an accusation of wrongdoing.
Grandmother at death’s door. Come home at once. Father.