Time for Silence

“Seemed the best thing to do. He’s a very resourceful fellow. Well, you’d expect that. There’s only one Merrivale.”

“Well, do let us know, Gerald. We’d love to go and see him, wouldn’t we, Lucinda?”

“Yes,” I answered. “We would.”

In his precise way, Uncle Gerald sent the information to us in a few days.

My mother said it was not easy to leave the hospital but under the circumstances she thought it necessary.

Andrée said she would like to come with us. Not that she would accompany us to the hospital, for she was sure three people would be too many, but she wanted to go to London to get some things for Edward.

“Do you remember that musical box he had? It played the Brahms lullaby when it opened. I know he misses it. He was opening a box yesterday and clearly listening. He looked so disappointed because there was no tune.”

“Fancy his remembering all that time,” said my mother. “But it’s a haunting melody and I suppose even a child would be aware of that.”

“It is that and a few other things I should like to get,” said Andrée.

“It seems a good idea,” replied my mother.

So we went.

Marcus was in a ward with several other officers. He was lying on his back and not quite his usual exuberant self; but he grinned at us.

“This is wonderful,” he said. “How good of you to come and see this poor old crock.”

“I don’t think the term applies,” said my mother. “Gerald told us you were improving every day.”

“My progress will leap forward after this visit. Do sit down.”

“Please don’t move,” said my mother.

“It would be rather impossible, I fear. They’ve got me strapped up a bit.”

“How do you feel?”

“Wonderful…because you and Lucinda have come to see me.”

My mother laughed. “I’m serious, Major Merrivale.”

“So am I. And please don’t call me Major.”

“Marcus,” said my mother. “We are so glad that you are home.”

“Does that go for Miss Lucinda also?”

“Of course it does,” I said. “We were worried about you when we heard things were not going well.”

He grimaced. “Something of a shambles, eh? However, it’s brought me home.”

“Where you will be staying for some time,” added my mother.

“That seems very likely.”

“We were disappointed that you did not come to our hospital,” I told him.

“What a pleasure that would have been…worth getting hit for.”

“Oh, don’t say that!” said my mother. “Marchlands is an excellent place for convalescence. The forest, you know. Perhaps later on…”

“You mean I might come to Marchlands? Nothing could help me more to make a speedy recovery.”

“Then we shall do what we can to arrange it. I daresay Gerald could do something. He can fix most things.”

“From henceforth I shall make myself a nuisance here, so that they will be only too glad to get rid of me.”

I did not think that would be the case. It was clear that that inimitable charm worked here as everywhere else and the nurses enjoyed looking after him.

The matron came in while we were there—a stern-faced, middle-aged woman who looked as though she would be capable of keeping a regiment in order—and even she softened and chided him gently because he was getting too excited.

Our visit was not a long one, but it was the maximum time allowed.

I felt a little uneasy as we left the ward, for I was sure Marcus was putting on a show of being in a much better condition than he actually was.

My mother was able to have a word with the doctor before we left. Marchlands was now known in the medical world as one of those country houses given over to the wounded since the beginning of the war, and therefore a certain respect was accorded her.

We were taken into a small room, and seated at a desk was Dr. Glenning.

He told us to be seated, and my mother then said, “Major Merrivale is a very special friend. How badly has he been wounded?”

“Well, there are worse cases.”

“And better,” added my mother.

The doctor nodded. “Some internal injuries. A bullet—most fortunately—just missed his lungs. The bullet has been extracted, but as you know, it is a vital area and we have to be watchful. There is some damage to the right leg. But that is minor compared with the internal trouble.”

“I see. He is not…in danger?”

The doctor shook his head to and fro. “Oh, he’s got a good chance of recovery. He’s very strong…in excellent condition. I’d say his chances of getting back to normal are good, but it is going to take time.”

“My daughter and I were thinking that Marchlands would be a good place for him to come for convalescence. We were wondering if the major could come to us.”

“I could not allow him to be moved just now, and this is going to be a long job. Later…if he continues to improve…I don’t see why not. He’s going to need convalescence, and to be among friends would be good for him. Yes, I think in due course, Mrs. Greenham, he might well go to Marchlands.”

“And…he really is not in danger…?? I put in.

“No more than most. We’re never quite sure how these things are going to turn out. You probably know, Mrs. Greenham….But I would say he has a fair chance of recovery.”

“That’s good news,” said my mother. “Have you any idea about when…?”