With trembling fingers she managed somehow to extract the flimsy sheet of paper.
‘Any reply wanted, miss?’ the boy repeated.
She shook her head, allowing the envelope to flutter to the floor. ‘No,’ she murmured, ‘thank you.’ She walked slowly into the drawing room, looking for her father.
Cade turned to look at her as she approached holding the telegram out to him in a mute plea for help. ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’
‘It’s Ollie,’ she said faintly. ‘And Bailey. It says missing in action, believed killed.’
The next twenty-four hours passed in a haze of grief and uncertainty. Cassy refused to believe that they were dead. She had felt for weeks that something was wrong, but death was so final. She would surely have known if Bailey or Ollie had gone to a world other than her own. Bailey was part of her, he had always been there for her; he simply would not go away and leave her on her own. She was barely conscious of life going on around her. She recalled afterwards that Lottie had been constantly at her side until it was time for them to board the ship sailing for Bombay. It was not the happy beginning to her parents’ honeymoon they might have expected. Their journey had become a pilgrimage to the land where their loved ones had given their lives for their country.
Five weeks later, almost to the day, their vessel docked in Bombay. The voyage had been uneventful and being far from land had a soothing effect on Cassy’s troubled nerves. There was nothing she could do other than to survive each day as best she could. She was listless, but took comfort from gazing at the vast vista of ocean that changed colour minute by minute. Her mother and Cade made every effort to keep up her spirits, but even though they tried hard to entertain and amuse her, theirs was a relationship that was exclusive and all-consuming. Cassy understood and accepted this and she was glad that her mother had found happiness at last, but that did nothing to assuage the gnawing anxiety that kept her awake well into the night until eventually the movement of the ship slicing through the waves lulled her to sleep.
Once ashore, Cade took over. He was on home ground now and he had their luggage taken to a hotel that resembled a huge white palace. They stayed there for several days, and would have moved on sooner but for the fact that Belinda was feeling unwell. She put it down to the change of diet or perhaps it was simply travel fatigue, but Cade was anxious and insisted that she must rest before they undertook the long journey by rail to Lucknow where the 13th Hussars had their headquarters.
In the meantime he showed Cassy the city where her grandmother had been born, and the house where she had lived until she met the handsome young English army officer with whom she fell hopelessly in love. It was a grand mansion, set in gardens filled with roses, marigolds and stands of pink and white oleander growing beneath the shade of banyan trees. ‘Does it belong to you now?’ Cassy asked as they gazed through the iron railings that surrounded the house and grounds.
Cade shook his head. ‘I gave it to my aunts and their families. It seemed only fair as my grandfather had left his fortune to me. I had no wish to live here. It was never my home.’
‘But it’s beautiful, and it is so different here from London.’ Cassy met his eyes with a smile. ‘We are part of this, though, you and I. I’m glad you brought me to India, Pa. Whatever happens next, at least I know where my family came from, and I can understand why the beautiful Amira fell in love with your father, even though I never knew him. It’s almost like history repeating itself with you and Ma.’
Cade bent down to drop a kiss on her forehead. ‘I’m proud to have you for a daughter, Cassy. If your grandfather were alive today he would be enchanted by you too.’ He took her by the hand and led her back to the gharry. He handed Cassy into the carriage. ‘Victoria station.’
‘The station, Pa?’
‘I want to book tickets for Lucknow,’ Cade said, climbing in to sit beside her as the driver flicked his whip and the horse lurched forward, sending up plumes of dust from the road surface. ‘We should leave as soon as possible, providing your mother feels well enough to travel.’
But when they returned to the hotel they found that Belinda was still lying on the sofa by the open window, while the punkah wallah sat outside the door with the cord tied round his big toe as he worked the cloth fan.
‘Darling, are you still feeling unwell?’ Cade said anxiously. ‘We shouldn’t have left you for so long.’
Pale but smiling resolutely, Belinda raised herself on her elbow. ‘It’s the heat, George. You’d think I would be used to it having been born here and spent many years in this country, but at this time of year I would have been in Simla until the cool.’
Cade laid his hand on her brow. ‘At least there’s no fever, my love. The monsoons will be here any day now and will relieve the heat. Do you think you will be able to travel tomorrow?’
Belinda shook her head. ‘I think not, George. I sent a message to my old friend, Eleanor Pilkington, the wife of the British ambassador. She helped me years ago when I came here to give birth to Cassy. Anyway, she visited me today and invited me to stay at Government House until you return.’
Cassy stared at her mother in consternation. ‘We can’t leave you if you’re unwell, Ma.’
Clutching Cade’s hand, Belinda gave her a reassuring smile. ‘Darling, it’s just the heat and exhaustion from the journey. I never was a good sailor and trains make me feel sick too. You and George must go as planned. Eleanor will look after me and I’ll enjoy her company. You two must go. I insist.’
Even travelling first class, the train journey was long, slow and uncomfortable, but Cassy was entranced by everything she saw. She was fascinated by the beautiful children with huge brown eyes and blue-black hair not dissimilar to her own. The women were lovely too, like exotic flowers in their brightly coloured saris. Everything she saw filled her with admiration and awe, from the stately elephants carrying howdahs on their backs to donkeys laden with panniers filled with anything from clay pots to bales of straw. She was both spellbound and scared by the snake charmers and it was strange to see cows wandering the streets unhindered and free to roam where they pleased. She was shocked by the poverty in rural areas but she had seen worse in the slums of the East End, and she realised that she had fallen in love with India.
She bore the discomforts of the long hours of travelling without a grumble, even when she discovered that the chai wallah brewed tea in the first class lavatory. She might have refused to drink the clear, slightly bitter brew at home, but thirst was a constant problem during the hot, dusty journey. Each time the train drew to a halt at a station the passengers were besieged by men and boys selling food, and Cassy was eager to try the hot, spicy curry wrapped in a chapatti and boiled rice served in banana leaves. She never forgot the reason for their mission but she relished every second of their journey into the unknown.
After almost two days travelling they reached Lucknow, and Cade hired a gharry to take them to the military headquarters. Cassy waited anxiously outside the Adjutant-General’s office while her father went inside to discover whether there was any news of the missing men. He emerged looking tired and drawn. ‘Nothing, I’m afraid, Cassy. I’ve been told to expect the worst.’
‘I won’t believe that, Pa. Look at what happened to you. You were given up for dead but you survived. If you think I’m going to give up now, you’re very much mistaken.’
Cade met her anguished gaze with a nod of his head. ‘You’re right, my dear. We can’t sit back and do nothing. I’ve made an appointment to see their commanding officer so that I can find out the exact details of their last mission. In the meantime I’m going to take you back to the hotel, and we’ll make our plans accordingly.’
The hotel was little more than a guest house, and their rooms were clean but basic with whitewashed walls, bare floorboards relieved by colourful rag rugs, and split cane sun blinds at the windows. Cassy was glad that Ma had decided to stay in the comfort of Government House in Bombay. The heat was oppressive and the humidity high. She felt as though the air had been sucked from her lungs, but when the rain came it was a shock to see it tumbling from the skies in thick opaque sheets. It drummed on the roof and flooded the gutters, falling in cascades to the ground below which was dried hard by the sun so that the water formed huge pools before it finally drained away leaving a sea of mud.
The rainstorm was over just as suddenly as it had begun and the humidity returned with a vengeance. Cassy paced the floor fanning herself with a palmetto leaf while she waited for her father to return. She had no way of knowing the time and after what seemed like hours she heard quick footsteps on the floorboards outside her room. She ran to open the door. ‘Well, Pa? What did he say?’
‘We leave for Delhi in the morning. There is a military hospital there. We might find some of their fellow officers who could give us more information.’
‘Then let’s go now,’ Cassy said eagerly.
Cade shook his head. ‘There’s no train until morning. We’ll get a good night’s sleep and be on our way first thing.’
Next day they boarded a train which eventually took them to Delhi where they began their enquiries all over again, to no avail. The soldiers in the hospital had no knowledge of either Oliver or Bailey, but a young doctor suggested that they might have better luck in Deolali, which, he said, was situated just a hundred miles north-east of Bombay. ‘It’s where they send the sick and injured who are waiting to be sent home to England,’ he said with a sigh. ‘I wouldn’t mind going there myself. The rainy season is always the hardest.’
Cade thanked him for his advice and once again they had to wait until next day for a train that would take them on to their next destination. Cassy was disappointed but refused to be downhearted. She was certain now that both Ollie and Bailey were alive. She had nothing but her own conviction and hope to go on, but she was determined to continue searching for them, no matter how long it took. Cade supported her willingly enough, but she knew that he was worried about Ma. He did not say as much but Cassy could tell by his faraway expression that his thoughts were with her mother, and that he was anxious to return to Bombay.
Sitting in yet another railway carriage on a train leaving Delhi, Cassy glanced at her father with a surge of genuine affection. His handsome face was creased with lines of worry and she was certain that there were a few more silver strands of hair at his temples than there had been when they left England. She felt guilty for ever doubting his feelings for Ma. His concern for her was visible for anyone but a fool to see. She had grown close to him in the last few days, and even if their mission proved futile she would always be grateful for the chance to get to know her father a little better. He had stood by her and gone to enormous length to find the two young men she loved, even though they had nothing to do with him and he barely knew them. He did not have to put himself through this and she loved him all the more for being there when she needed him. He was staring out of the window and his sighs were almost imperceptible to any but the most sensitive ears.
She laid her hand on his. ‘I’ll never forget what you’ve done for me and the boys, Pa,’ she said softly. ‘And don’t worry about Ma, she’s much tougher than she looks.’
Cade turned his head to look at her and his lips parted in a smile. ‘I’m proud of both my girls, and I know how much those young men mean to you, Cassy.’
‘We will find them alive, Pa. I know we will.’
‘As far as I can see, Deolali is our last chance of finding them and it’s a slim one to say the least. Don’t get your hopes too high, my love.’
Chapter Twenty-three
The adjutant in charge of admissions to the hospital in Deolali leafed through a well-thumbed register. ‘I don’t recall an officer by the name of Davenport, or a Corporal Moon come to that. We’re very particular about keeping our records up to date, as you can see.’
‘I can,’ Cade said, nodding in agreement. ‘Is it possible that some of the men might be unidentified?’
‘Unlikely, sir. But feel free to visit the wards and make enquiries. I’d take you myself but I have a mountain of work to get through before I go off duty.’
‘Thank you for your help.’ Cade beckoned to Cassy who had been hovering in the doorway. ‘We won’t trouble you any longer.’
‘He could be wrong,’ Cassy said hopefully as they made their way through corridors lined with stretchers, and queues of walking wounded waiting to be seen by the hard-pressed medical team.
‘We won’t leave until we’re absolutely certain that they aren’t here.’ Cade signalled to an orderly who had come from one of the wards. ‘Could I trouble you for a moment, Corporal? We’ve travelled halfway across India and back looking for two men who were reported missing. I’m hoping that they might have been brought here.’
The orderly’s eyes were red-rimmed with fatigue and underlined by dark shadows, as if he had not slept for days. ‘It’s possible, sir. We’re full to capacity with cases of cholera and malaria as well as the wounded. You might like to leave the young lady in the anteroom. There are sights that might upset her.’
‘Would you rather wait outside in the garden?’ Cade said, eyeing Cassy with a worried frown. ‘This might prove to be less than pleasant.’
She shook her head. ‘I’m not afraid, Pa. I’d recognise Bailey anywhere and you might not. I’m coming with you.’
She was to regret her rash decision as the orderly showed them ward after ward stinking with the vomit and excrement of the unfortunate cholera victims, and, almost worse, the stench of putrefaction from gangrenous wounds. With her handkerchief clutched to her mouth, Cassy fought off nausea and faintness as she made her way from bed to bed. Her heart was wrung with pity for the sick and injured, and some of them were little more than boys, but it was almost a relief to find that neither Bailey nor Oliver was amongst them.
Finally they were back where they started. ‘Sorry I couldn’t find your men,’ the orderly said wearily. ‘It’s possible they might turn up, though.’
Cassy was not going to give up so easily. She caught him by the sleeve as he was about to walk away. ‘Please, wait. Are there any new arrivals who haven’t gone through the system yet? We’ve come such a long way, sir. I can’t go without having seen every last man.’
He turned to her with a resigned sigh. ‘Honest, miss. I took you everywhere.’
‘Not quite, mate.’
Cassy turned to the man who had just emerged from a side ward. He was a tough-looking individual with a crooked nose that looked as though it had been broken at some time in the past, and a misshapen left ear that must have taken quite a few punches.
The orderly eyed him with ill-concealed contempt. ‘What did you say, Jones?’
‘I said not quite, Corporal. There was two blokes brought in last night, dressed like natives but the patrol what found ’em realised they was white men beneath the dirt and walnut dye. No uniforms on ’em so they could be Russian spies. Unconscious and half dead they was, but ain’t croaked yet. They could be your men, miss.’
‘I want to see them,’ Cade said with an air of undeniable authority.
The orderly blinked and cleared his throat. ‘I – er – I dunno about that, sir. I’d have to get permission from the adjutant. If they’re spies . . .’
‘If they are then I’ll leave them to your tender mercies.’ Cade’s tone was jocular but his resolute expression brooked no argument. ‘Who is your commanding officer?’
‘Colonel Fitzhugh, sir.’
‘Barney Fitzhugh? We were at Sandhurst together. Let me see your spies, Corporal, and if there’s any trouble I’ll speak to my old friend and set matters straight.’
‘Very well, sir. Private Jones, take the officer and the lady to see the prisoners, and stay with them. You can’t trust them Russians, they’re slippery characters.’
With a grunt that might have been assent or disgust, Cassy could not tell which, Jones led them into the side ward. The blinds were partially closed to keep the heat at bay but even so the room was like an oven, and the overpowering smell of carbolic could not quite disguise the all too familiar stench of sickness and sweat. For a dreadful moment Cassy thought that her knees were about to give way beneath her, but making a supreme effort, she steeled herself to approach the nearest bed.
She recognised him instantly, even in such a sorry state. ‘Ollie,’ she whispered. ‘It’s me, Cassy.’
‘He can’t hear you, miss,’ Jones said gruffly. ‘He’s out of his head with fever. They don’t call it doolally tap for nothing. Malaria’s a real killer round here and probably done for more solders than them Afghans.’
‘That’s enough, Private,’ Cade said sharply.
‘Yes, sir.’ Jones snapped smartly to attention.
Cassy pushed past them to take a closer look at the man in the next bed, who was tossing about feverishly and mumbling something unintelligible. Even before she reached his side she knew that it was Bailey. A sob of relief broke from her lips as she seized his hand. ‘Bailey, I’m here. I’ve come to take you home.’
‘They won’t be going nowhere for a while, miss,’ Jones said solemnly. ‘Both of ’em got malaria. This one here is the worst case though. He’s suffered gunshot injuries as well as getting the fever.’ He nodded in Oliver’s direction. ‘Touch and go, I’d say, sir. He’s in a very sorry state.’
‘All the more reason to get them back to London,’ Cassy said firmly. ‘You’ll make the arrangements, won’t you, Pa?’
But she soon discovered that it was not as simple as that. Neither Oliver nor Bailey had had any means of identification about their persons when they were found. It seemed obvious that they had been involved in some covert mission, but it would take time to verify this fact. In any event they were both dangerously ill and the doctors said that to remove them from the hospital could prove fatal.
Once again, Cade booked them into a hotel and word of their whereabouts was sent to Belinda. Almost by return, he received a message expressing her delight and relief that they had found Oliver and Bailey, and assuring him that she was fully recovered and in the best of spirits. Cassy settled down to write a long letter to her mother, describing their travels and the sights she had seen. She did not mention the overcrowded conditions of the military hospital, or the terrible suffering she had witnessed on a daily basis. She ended on a cheerful note, telling her mother to expect them very soon, although the latter was written more in hope than certainty.
They visited the hospital every morning. Bailey was improving daily and Oliver’s condition was stable, so they were informed by the overworked young doctor. Cade had renewed his old acquaintanceship with Colonel Fitzhugh, and as he was able to formally identify Oliver and Bailey, the information had been sent on to their commanding officer in Lucknow. Confirmation of their hitherto secret mission was received and due to his officer status Oliver was moved to a private room, whereas Bailey, who was showing excellent signs of recovery, was sent to a fever ward.
Cassy continued to visit them every day. She was overjoyed one morning to find Bailey sitting up in bed, drinking a cup of tea. His skin was sallow and his eyes sunken in his face but they lit up as she walked into the room, and the sight of his familiar grin brought tears to her eyes.
‘Cassy, love. They told me that you’d been here every day. I can’t believe that you’ve come all this way to find me.’
‘We almost gave up,’ she said, halfway between tears and laughter. ‘You wretched boy, Bailey.’ She pulled up a stool and sat down beside him. ‘We’ve been travelling round India for over a week, looking for you and Ollie, and this was our last chance. You’re looking so much better than when I first saw you.’
‘Liar. I look like a death’s head on a mopstick. I was allowed to shave myself for the first time this morning and I hardly recognised the face looking back at me from the mirror.’
She put her arms around him and gave him a hug. ‘You’re alive, that’s all that matters.’ She would not have admitted it for the world, but his gaunt appearance still shocked her, and the hand that clutched hers was dry and brittle, like a bird’s claw. ‘You’ll soon be up and about, dearest Bailey, and then we’ll take you home where you belong.’
He reached up to stroke her hair. ‘I’ve dreamt of this moment for so long,’ he murmured, his eyes moist with unshed tears. ‘All the time we were out there in the foothills it was blazing hot in the day and freezing at night. The only thing that kept me going was the memory of how you looked when we parted. It seems like years since that day in December.’
‘I knew that there was something wrong weeks ago. I had nightmares about bloody battles and I was certain you were in danger.’
‘That’s the trouble with being in the army,’ he said, with a shadow of his old humour. ‘The enemy keeps trying to kill you.’ His smiled faded and his eyes darkened. ‘How is Oliver? They won’t tell me a thing.’
‘He’s still unconscious, Bailey. I don’t think it’s just the fever, but the doctors don’t say very much.’
‘He took a bullet in the back, Cass. I carried him as far as I could each day, but then the fever got me and I don’t remember very much until the patrol came upon us. I was never so glad to hear a cockney accent, I can tell you.’
A polite cough made Cassy look round to see Jones standing behind her. ‘I think that’s enough for today, miss. You don’t want to tire the lad out now, do you?’
Cassy rose to her feet. ‘No, of course not. I’ll go and find out how Ollie is.’ She turned to him with a smile. ‘Perhaps I could have some more time with Corporal Moon later today?’
Jones nodded his head. ‘I’m sure the doctors won’t object to that, miss.’
‘Feel free to visit me any time, miss.’ One of the recuperating privates gave her a wink and a smile. ‘A beautiful young lady’s cool hand on me fevered brow would be just the ticket.’
Bailey raised himself on his elbow. ‘Wait until I’m stronger, Figgis. You won’t be so full of yourself then.’
Cassy leaned over to drop a kiss on Bailey’s forehead. ‘I’ll be back later, I promise.’ She left the ward accompanied by an appreciative whistle from Figgis.
‘You’ll have to excuse the men if they’re too forward, miss,’ Jones said apologetically as he escorted her along the corridor towards Oliver’s room. ‘They don’t see too many pretty faces on the ward.’
‘I wish I could do more to help,’ Cassy said with feeling. ‘I’m so sorry for them.’
‘You done enough by just coming to visit. Young Moon will get better twice as fast now he’s seen his lady love.’
‘It’s not like that,’ Cassy murmured. ‘I mean, we were childhood friends.’
‘If you say so, miss.’ Jones stopped outside Oliver’s room and opened the door. He scowled at the punkah wallah, a boy of six or seven, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor, fast asleep. ‘Wake up, you lazy little sod.’ He poked him with the toe of his boot and the boy opened his eyes with a start. ‘What d’you think you’re paid for?’ Jones demanded. ‘Get on with your work.’
The boy began working the cord with renewed vigour and Cassy gave him an encouraging smile. She would have liked to put Private Jones in his place and tell him off for bullying a young child, but she sensed that any intervention might make matters worse for the punkah wallah. She frowned, but Jones seemed oblivious to her feelings, and uninterested in anything other than exercising his authority. He opened the door, standing aside to allow her to enter.
‘There you are, miss. Captain Davenport is as well as can be expected today. The doctor says it might be some time afore he comes to, so don’t let it upset you. I seen plenty of cases where men have been out for the count for days, even weeks, and then suddenly opened their eyes, sat up and asked for a steak and kidney pudding.’
Cassy tiptoed into the darkened room. The blinds were down and it was almost unbearably hot even though the punkah was now moving the air with its gentle swaying motion. She gazed down at Oliver’s immobile features and a shiver ran down her spine. He was deathly pale and his face had the frozen look of a marble effigy. Pa had warned her that the doctors did not hold out much hope of a complete recovery. The attack of fever was comparatively mild, but the injury to his spine was more serious. They had to face the fact that he might never walk again. It had come as a terrible shock. She could not imagine someone like Oliver living life as a cripple, and she had prayed every night for his full recovery.
She took a seat on the chair at his bedside and held his hand. She had felt self-conscious and slightly silly at first when talking to someone who could not hear a word she said. But after a while it had come naturally to her and she chatted to him as if he they were seated opposite each other in the tearoom all those years ago when she was just a child. She had already told him everything that had happened since he left London, including the exhibition of Jack’s paintings, and her plans for opening a shop selling work by the men from the home. She was beginning to run out of things to say, but somehow she managed to keep up her one-sided conversation.