THE JOURNEY BACK
Peter. T. Bissett
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2012 Peter. T. Bissett
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CHAPTER ONE
Late December.
The journey back was taking longer than she had anticipated, she wasn't even sure that she wanted to be making this journey on such a foul night as this. Her mind darted and dived from one thought to another. She wasn't looking forward to telling them, she was sure that they wouldn't understand. Her mother’s words of two years ago crept back inside her head and began whispering to her once more, as they had done so many times over the last two weeks.
“We will manage Jane, we really will. Your education is the most important thing right now.”
Jane Mitchell could now hardly see through the rain beaten windscreen of her black Citroën C3. She already had the wipers on fast speed but the wintry weather was just getting worse. Junction nineteen of the M5 motorway was approaching, and she had already decided to pull off at the Gordano Services, there she would be able to telephone her parents. It was now twenty minutes past midnight, and she was almost half an hour late already. She knew in these awful conditions that the journey down to her parent’s house in Bridgwater was far from over.
Almost without realising Jane had pulled up and parked in one of the reserved places for disabled drivers. She once more checked her watch.
“I could just sit here and use my mobile.” Jane thought, as she looked out of her car window at the driving rain. Jane dismissed this thought almost immediately; she knew her mother would just go on and on about this, that and the other. It would end up costing her a small fortune. Jane sat a moment longer hoping that the rain might stop. She looked left and right but there wasn’t another car to be seen.
“No one in their right minds will be out on a night like this.” She said to herself, as if to justify her illegal parking. With that she decided to make a run for it. In the short space of time from getting out of her car, locking it, and dashing to the sanctuary of the nearest doorway, she had become absolutely soaked to the skin. Once inside she scanned the deserted entrance way looking for the telephone area. There was no one to ask, but then there was also no one to see the sorry state that she looked. Her shoes clicked loudly on the ceramic tiled floor as she hurriedly marched in the direction the telephone sign indicated. She glanced through one of the large windows that shielded the restaurant from the corridor; there were only two or three people sitting around probably, she decided, with empty cups that once contained tea or coffee. They certainly didn’t seem in any rush to get up and brave the elements of the night. She stopped at the row of telephone booths but before dialling she bent her head forward and shook some of the droplets of rain from her mousy, brown hair. She thought for a moment about what her parents were going to say when they saw that she had had her shoulder-length hair cut, cut, almost to the equivalent of a man’s short back and sides. It was all the rage back in London at the university, but her parents were set in their ways, this was going to be too tomboyish for them. She let out a long deep sigh; she knew that her cropped hair was going to be the least of her worries. She just hoped that they would understand. She took another deep breath and was beginning to feel a little more comfortable as she dialled the number. It rang, and rang and rang.
“Come on ... Come on...you must be in.” She said loudly into the receiver. After a while, she hung up, completely confused.
“Where on earth can they be at this time of night? They know I`m coming home for Christmas.” Jane`s thoughts rushed through her head as she made a mad dash back to her car. Once inside she did her best to make herself comfortable, sitting as she was in wet clothing. She adjusted the interior mirror and stared at the bedraggled face that confronted her. She allowed herself just the slightest of grins. “At least this hair style will dry a lot quicker.” She thought, as she ruffled her short brown hair.
A heavy knocking at the car window made her scream out loud with fright. Her hand flew to her chest as she caught her breath. She turned to see a R.A.C. patrolman requesting that she wind down the window.
“Sorry miss, I didn`t mean to startle you like that. May I enquire as to which way you are travelling?” As he spoke, he started to lean his head through the draughty space of the open window causing icy cold rain to run off his peaked cap and land in Jane`s lap.
“Sorry about that miss.” He said, taking it off and shaking it outside of the car.
“It`s okay. Actually, I`m travelling south west, heading for Bridgwater. Why, is there a problem?”
“You could say that, there`s been a multiple pile up between junctions twenty one and twenty two. It`s only just happened so I don`t know much more than that, but it does sound pretty bad. I think you would be well advised to take the A38 all the way to Bridgwater."
Jane nodded her thanks and pressed the window button as quickly as she could. Half way she stopped. “Thanks for that, thanks a lot.” She shouted, stretching her face as close to the glass as she could. She saw him raise his cap aloft to acknowledge her as he raced for the cover of the doorway.
Jane knew a route that would take her home. She had used it many times in the summer months when she was travelling to and from London University where she was studying History. The route was what she always called her scenic escape path, even though her parents knew that she was only going that particular way to avoid the grockles of summer time, dragging their caravans and dinghy’s down to the coast, fighting with each other, jockeying for the best position in an effort to get to their destination as fast as possible. The split section of the M5 between here and Clevedon had been witness to many a nasty accident, although it has been labelled the most beautiful section of motorway in the country, with the cliff face on one side and the lush green meadows of the levels on the other. Jane always imagined that passengers disturbed their driver’s concentration as they caught a little glimpse of the Bristol Channel.
“Oh, look darling the sea.” However, the people in the car in front of them had seen it first, but not before the people in front of them had, so they had slowed down to take it all in. Alas the “Oh, look darling the sea.” car just kept on going. Crash! Bang! Wallop! Jane knew that her little, made-up scenario wasn`t true but it made her smile as she told it to herself. After a few twists and turns it wasn`t very long before she was turning left and heading up the wooded lane that she loved so much in the summer. How she loved to see the various foliage's, the mixed shades of green that hung from the boughs of the silver birch, the ash and the huge oaks that dominated the lane. Tonight, it was all a bit different. The trees stood, hanging over in their nakedness, on both sides of the grassy verge. They seemed like enormous black, preying dragons, dipping and rising in the wind. With the rain still lashing down, the whole area was dark and eerie. She had left her joking frame of mind back on the main road, it was all uphill now, twisting and turning, every bend seemed to conceal a new frightening monster. In her attempt to leave the wooded section behind her Jane took the last bend much too fast, she struggled with the wheel to try and rectify the great skid that she was now in. She fought with the controls, turning the wheel one way and then the other. At last she managed to bring the Citroën to a standstill; she yanked up hard on the handbrake and rested her head on the steering wheel. After taking a couple of deep breaths to regain her composure she straightened the car up, her hands were still shaking slightly but her speed was a lot steadier. Once out into the open, she could see the occasional light from a farm building, blurred through the rain swept windscreen it was, never the less, a pleasing sight.
Jane`s parents had bought her the C3 for her eighteenth birthday two years ago, and she knew only too well that they really couldn`t afford it. She had realised that last year was the first time since she could remember, that they hadn`t had a holiday, this had made her feel very guilty, especially as her mother was always sending her small amounts of money to help her along. She knew she would never forget the excitement on their faces as they waited impatiently, at the foot of the stairs, for her to come down on that special morning. They ushered her outside and even though she was still only in her dressing gown, they simply brushed her protests aside. There it stood; in the drive complete with the largest red bow she had ever seen going the full length of the car, underneath and back up the other side. So, if she ever damaged her little black C3, she knew for certain that she would never be able to face either of them again. She smiled to herself as she recalled the university rag week back in the summer and how she, and Gary Mason had organised a `How many people can you get in a Citroën event.` “Twenty three.” She reminded herself, as the smile grew on her face.
In the distance, she could see the bright lights of Bristol airport. After the right-hand turn onto the main road, it would be all plain sailing and straight home. The rain seemed to be easing slightly as she drove through the sleepy village of Churchill. The traffic lights stayed in her favour as she approached them at speed. She was unwinding, relaxing. She leaned forward and put a CD disc into the open mouth of the machine and it wasn`t very long before her head was bobbing up and down in time to her favourite Genesis tape. The Rooks Bridge sign at the edge of the road caught in her car headlights and took her attention away from the music, for she realised that she would soon be crossing over the motorway. From there she would be able to tell if it was now clear or not and, with a motorway junction not more than three miles further on, if everything was okay, it would certainly be quicker to nip back on there. She glanced at the interior clock; an hour had gone by, and her parents would be frantic by now. Why weren`t they in when she had telephoned? Where on earth would they have gone on a night like this? All these thoughts now had to take second place for Jane realised that she was on the bridge that went over the motorway. She took a quick look to the left revealed nothing but total darkness, not a vehicle light to be seen. She wiped the steamed up side of the window with her arm and strained her tired eyes to the right. In the distance she could just make out what looked like a fire and there, just for a split second, what she thought was a flashing blue light. The bellowing roar from a set of air horns shot her eyes back to the road in front of her. The vehicle was a twelve wheeled petroleum tanker and it was bearing down on her fast. Jane had no time to re-act at all. The tanker driver was all ready ferociously fighting with the wheel in a vain attempt to swerve to his right and miss the oncoming Citroën. The steering wheel won the contest; the tanker just ploughed straight on. Two loud screams penetrated the blackness of the night and Jane`s car went beneath the front wheels of the Sedden Atkinson tanker, like play-doh squeezed beneath a rolling pin. The tanker driver continued his fight with the wheel even when flying debris from the rear end of the car came crashing through his windscreen. He fought it all the way until eventually it stopped, teetering on the edge of a deep water logged ditch. The Citroën wreckage hung from the undercarriage of the tanker as though it was held there by a magnet. The only sound now was a whining hum as the tankers front wheels were left to spin slowly above the ditch. The driver was slumped dead across the steering wheel, a chunk of metal from Jane`s car buried deep into his chest.
oooOooo
Jane`s parents arrived at Weston General Hospital at five fifteen. They had been driven there by the Police, who hadn`t really told either of them very much, except that their daughter had been involved in a rather nasty car accident, that she was seriously ill, but still alive.
Jane was in the Intensive Care Unit. Her parents were asked to take a seat outside in the corridor and told that a specialist would be along shortly to speak to them.
“Mr Mitchell?” The sound of the female voice brought his head from out of his hands.
“Yes?” He replied, dazed, beginning to get to his feet.
“Doctor Greenwood will see you now.” The nurse said, as she indicated with her arm that they should walk ahead of her.
“How`s Jane?” Mrs Mitchell asked quietly, trying to hold back the tears.
“Doctor Greenwood will give you all the details, I`m sure.” The young nurse replied, pushing open a door and announcing them both.
Doctor Greenwood turned and faced them; he was in his early fifties, tall and lean, with half rimmed glasses and a mop of wiry red hair. Putting down the x-ray he had been holding up to the light he welcomed them both with an outstretched hand. His grip was firm and he patted Mrs Mitchells hand with his left as he tried to make her feel more at ease.
“Mr and Mrs Mitchell ... please do come in ... sit yourselves down.” His deep Scottish accent sounded raw in the back of his throat.
Mrs Mitchell half stumbled swayed and staggered to one of the chairs. Mr Mitchell just simply watched as the doctor went to her assistance, he didn`t feel guilty about his lack of concern for his wife`s safety, he didn`t feel anything at this exact moment in time.
“Look doctor, I want to know how Jane is and I want to know now.” His voice trembled with the mixed emotions, which were slowly coming to the surface. Emotions that were bursting with anger and fear.
“Please come and sit down Mr Mitchell, I know how distressed you both must feel.”
“How the bloody hell would you know how we feel? That`s not your daughter lying in there.” He thrust an arm awkwardly outwards, pointing nowhere in particular as his voice broke up. He struggled to the remaining empty chair. His wife gripped his outstretched hand and held it tightly.
“I`m very sorry,” the doctor continued. “I certainly didn`t mean to cause you or your wife any more distress than was necessary.”
“No ... I`m sorry Doctor, it`s been hell since the police arrived .... They couldn`t tell us very much and we`re both so worried, but I had no right to fly off the handle like that.” Mr Mitchell raised his head as he spoke and tried to smile through the hurt he was feeling inside.
“Okay.” Doctor Greenwood clasped his hands together and continued as if the whole thing had never happened. “It`s not all doom and gloom.” He looked at them both in turn and watched as they glanced at each other. He noticed that those few words had taken the dull, lifeless colour out of their eyes. He quickly raised his hands up to his chest.
“Hold on .....That doesn`t mean everything in the garden is rosy.” He added hastily, noticing that their faces had regained some colour as well.
“Jane has lapsed into a coma.” They both gasped at hearing the grim news. Doctor Greenwood decided it was better to just keep on going. “She has severe head injuries plus a broken left leg; our other tests show no internal bleeding, and of course, she has severe bruising all over. Having said all that, we obviously have a fighter on our hands in young Jane. The ambulance medics said that although she was drifting in and out of consciousness, she never once complained about the pain. It took the fire crew over an hour to get her free of the wreckage.” He looked straight at them both as he took a long slow deep breath.
“What about the head injuries,” Mrs Mitchell asked after clearing her throat.
“It`s really too early to say we need to do a lot more tests,” he watched as the concerned parents looked at each other, Mrs Mitchell squeezed her husband’s hand and he responded by raising them and kissing hers gently, smiling and nodding his head.
“Right, shall we go and see our little fighter? I must stress that she`s not a pretty sight at present, but it looks a lot worse than it is.”
They followed him back down the white walled corridor. As they were about to enter Intensive Care they both took a deep breath and clasped hands again. There was only one occupied bed in the room; they walked over to it hesitantly. Mrs Mitchell`s hand flew up to her mouth to stop a cry of anguish coming out. Mr Mitchell put a comforting arm around his wife`s sagging shoulders.
“She looked worse than that when she fell off the revolving spider’s web over the playing fields.” He half laughed, as he gave her an extra squeeze of support.
“All right Colin, you don`t need to do your ‘she needs re-assuring’ act, I`m over the initial shock.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. He smiled at the thank you that he had come to recognise as the one that she saved for him and only him.
“Mrs Mitchell, can I suggest that, if you are feeling up to it, you sit and talk to your daughter?” He saw the slightly strained expression on her face. “About anything you like.” He added, “Tell her about the weather, what you had for dinner last night, anything at all. Research has proven that people in comas often respond to hearing a voice that they recognise.”
She sat down next to the bed and took Jane`s hand, being very careful not to knock the drip cannula that was protruding from the back of it.
“Hello darling it`s me.” Her voice started to break up. Colin Mitchell came over and rested his hand on the back of her neck. She raised her free hand and patted one of his before continuing.
“Jane, Jane it`s Mom, and Dad`s here as well.”
“Hi darling, Mom and I will be here all the time.”
“That`s the idea, just keep on pumping your voices at her and we will hope that something gets through to her. I`ll leave you now. If you require anything, anything at all, just press the button beside the bed.” Doctor Greenwood raised a smile as he walked out of the room.
“Jane, guess where your Dad and I went last night? We knew you were coming but your aunty Ivy invited us over for a drink. It was her fiftieth birthday; we said we could only stay a short while. Well, it was after two o`clock before we got home. I can`t remember the last time we were out so late.”
“We got a taxi home Jane, your Mother was supposed to be driving but she had a few drinks. Eight pounds fifty and it`s only about four miles. I`m thinking about becoming a taxi driver if it pays money like that.” Barbara Mitchell nudged her husband and frowned at him.
“He`s only joking Jane darling, he would never last five minutes. He gets lost driving around Bridgwater centre and we`ve lived here for twelve years. What with all the little side roads, the mind boggles. The little grey haired old ladies would have a field day with him, they would just smile sweetly at him and he would let them off the fare.” Barbara turned and smiled at Colin.
“Yes, perhaps your Mother’s right Jane. Remember when you were about nine and I stopped to pick up a young man hitch hiking down to Cornwall? We picked him up at Bristol we drove straight past our junction of the motorway and dropped him off at the Exeter Services. Then I gave him five pounds because he said that he hadn`t eaten yet today. You thought it was wonderful, a real adventure, going on and on down the motorway like that. Mom was not too pleased though was she? We were so late back we missed our dinner. Do you remember how we laughed because we had stopped and had beef burger and chips and we kept it a secret for ages didn`t we?” Colin looked at Barbara and pulled a face as he hunched his shoulders.
“Oh yes I`d forgotten all about that. You two kept on putting your finger to your lips and saying `Sshh` to each other. You would say to me “I`ve got a secret, I`ve got a secret”. It was days before I found out, thick as thieves you two were.” Barbara sighed as she looked down at her daughter laying there, her face bruised and cut, her eyes closed and swollen. Colin squeezed her hand even harder; half smiled and nodded his re-assurance that everything would be all right.
“Excuse me, would you both like a cup of tea?” A young auxiliary nurse asked, standing in the doorway.
“Yes please, that`s very thoughtful of you.” Barbara replied, smiling her thanks.
“It was Doctor Greenwood`s idea actually. He thought you might be in need of one. Sugar?”
“One with, and one without please.”
“Don`t suppose you`ve got a packet of biscuits stashed away back there by any chance have you?” Colin enquired.
“Colin really, the cheek of it, you`ll be asking for plain chocolate digestive next.”
“No I wouldn`t, I prefer milk. You should know that by now.”
The nurse laughed. “I`ll see what I can find. Can`t promise what sort though.” Then she was gone.
“You really are cheeky, don`t you think they have enough to do without you teasing them about biscuits?”
“Yes you`re right as usual. I guess my anxiety was really taking over there a bit. Hey, chin up, she`ll be okay.” Colin tried desperately hard to hold back his own emotions as he cuddled Barbara through hers.
As her worried and distraught parents sat in vigil beside her bed, listening to the bleeps and sounds that all the electronic apparatus was making, Jane`s injured body and mind drifted further and further into a darkness called oblivion.
oooOooo
CHAPTER TWO
1808 Late Autumn.
The journey back through Portugal, across Northern Spain, up through Bordeaux and finally into Normandy, had been almost without incident. The five British soldiers and the French General were actually only challenged once on their long arduous six week journey to the French coast. The patrol they met had only consisted of eight French infantrymen, who were very easily and quietly laid to rest, as the British had the advantage of surprise on their side. Once across the English Channel and onto home soil the party split up, Corporal Haines and two others headed for Salisbury Plain and a well earned rest. The two soldiers drawing the short straw carried on with their prisoner. The journey up through Dorset and into Somerset was a mere two days on horseback and very easy going compared to the last four weeks. At their rendezvous point, they met up with a burly, rough looking Sergeant. They exchanged names, shaking hands as they did so and the Sergeant accepted the written orders that one of them handed over. After a quick glance at them, he stuffed the papers inside his tunic and then pointed the way forward.
The French General was man handled roughly into the small ketch, which was usually used to move merchandise and other local materials up and down the murky depths of the Bristol Channel. However, for now, it had been commandeered by the British Army and was almost ready to set sail from Brean Down to the island which, for the French General, his two man escort and the Sergeant, was journeys end.
"Get in and keep your head down." One of them snarled, at the same time pushing the General headlong into the wet bottom of the boat.
"All this is a bloody waste of time, if you ask me."
"I don`t recall anyone asking you for your opinion." The Sergeant snapped back, turning and staring hard at the tired, bedraggled soldier who had just spoken out.
"You just do as you`re told, we're all tired, but we're nearly there."
"Shall I remove the sack from his head Sergeant?" The younger of the two soldiers asked.
"No, leave him as he is. I just said, it`s not far to go."
"Where exactly is not far Sergeant?"
"It`s an island out there in the channel. It’s called Steep Holm. So, are you any the wiser now?"
"No Sergeant." The younger one replied, casting a quick glance to his friend, who had helped him so often on their rigorous journey.
"In that case, you just follow orders and we`ll ......"
"Just get along fine." One of them muttered under his breath.
The Sergeant turned, grabbing the soldier by his tunic lapels before pushing him firmly up against one of the wooden masts of the ketch.
"You said something Carter?"The Sergeant asked his voice streaked with anger as he still held the man by the throat.
"Is it time Sergeant? I was asking is it time to hoist this second sail?" The Sergeant glared hard into Carter`s face, their noses were almost touching, Carter could smell onions or something just as pungent. The Sergeant eventually released his grip and turned to the other man at arms.
"Yes, it`s time to hoist the sail. Hoist sail Williams." The Sergeant shouted across to the younger one, who was trying to make General Junot as comfortable as he possibly could in the cramped, wet conditions.
"Yes Sergeant." Williams shouted leaving the French General still slumped in the bow. Williams jumped to his feet, grabbing the harsh salty, wet rope that Carter had taken hold of and was now offering him.
"Keep away from the General lad." Carter said harshly, taking his anger out on his young friend. Williams knew him by now and he just smiled and nodded as they both pulled hard on the rope together, in their effort to get the hemp sail up the mast. Whilst Carter found it hard work Williams was much younger and fitter; standing nearly six feet tall the thick, wet, cold rope moved through his hands with ease.
"He`s harmless enough. Christ, his hands are tied behind his back, he`s gagged and hooded. He ain`t going to cause us any trouble."
"I've told you before, he`ll slit your throat from one ear to the other if he gets half a chance."Williams shrugged away the advice as they both carried on pulling the rough sail up the mast into the gloomy grey morning sky.
"More work and less talking, if you know what`s good for you. Hurry up, we`re almost out into open water. Get a move on with that second sail. Come on, get it up there"
"Yes Sergeant." Twinned voices replied. Job done, Carter collapsed into the bottom of the ketch, whilst Williams stood looking out to sea, his long tousled blonde hair blowing all over his face.
oooOooo
Steep Holm is one of two small islands out in the Bristol Channel, some three or four miles from Brean Down. With its rough rugged cliffs, rising in places to over two hundred feet, it made an ideal prison. With just over forty eight acres above the tide line and only one place possible to land a boat, General Junot was to be taken there, rather than to her sister island Flat Holm. Steep Holm also has its own natural fresh water supply, which some believe comes from the Mendip hills and under the Channel. When the medieval monks discovered it, they sank a well and stayed to build a priory. At this time, there were no trees on the domed shape of the island, only low elder bushes. The plant life had been brought by the monks, to be used for medicinal purposes, in the form of alexanders, peonies and wild leeks. This low vegetation provided little shelter and nowhere to hide. Escape was thought to be impossible.
General Junot was without doubt the British`s most significant capture so far. Sir Arthur Wellesley, who was later to become the Duke of Wellington, was quoted as being `Overwhelmed` when he received the information that they had captured such an important French general, and evidently with such ease. Having defeated Junot`s forces, on the outskirts of the small Portuguese town of Vimiero, in August of that year, General Junot had been found wandering along the east bank of the river Tera, in such a confused and disorientated state that someone had even suggested that the famous General was drunk. His escorts had successfully smuggled him out of Portugal right under the very noses of the French army. Now here he was, in late September of the same year, being dragged unceremoniously onto the little shingle beach at Steep Holm, England.
oooOooo
“You two both get an arm each, let`s show the General here to his new quarters."
"Which way then Sergeant?" Carter asked, as he looked around the high rugged cliff face in front of them. The Sergeant responded by pointing a dirty, grubby finger straight up to the jagged rocks.
"What the hell are we ... mountain goats?"
"There is a path, of sorts, Carter. We wouldn`t want you straining yourself would we?" The Sergeant bellowed his final comments as he strode off, leading the way over the sea worn stones that made the beach. The path up was narrow and steep; sometimes, there was nothing but a sheer drop, with no protection, no rope that you might be able to catch hold of if you lost your footing. They were met at the top by a sentry who, after a few words with Sergeant Price, led them along a narrow dirt track. The sun was rising fast, the day light was getting better by the minute. Soon they could make out what looked like the remains of an old priory, the roof was long gone, and the walls were only about seven or eight feet high but an arch, where once a window had been, confirmed that this indeed was once a small church or such like. The sentry stopped, he waited for Carter and Williams while they helped the General as he stumbled blindly over the debris of fallen stone work. The sentry knelt down and indicated that he needed assistance, Williams, ever eager to be helpful, crouched beside him and between them they removed a large stone slab to reveal a cellar, with stone steps dropping down into a darkened pit.
"Used to be the monks hiding place, and store room." The Sergeant answered the inquisitive looks on the escort’s faces.
"Down you go then General." Carter said, giving him a hefty shove.
"There`s no need for that private."
"I was only helping the General to his quarter’s Sergeant." He cast the Sergeant a malignant look.
"That`s as maybe, but I’ve heard that Sir Arthur Wellesley himself could be coming to interrogate our prisoner, and I don`t think he will be very pleased if the General here isn`t in the best of health. Do you understand what I am saying to you both?" Spittle came through the gap where his two-front teeth had once been and dribbled down his chin. He casually wiped it away with the back of his hand.
"Yes Sergeant."
"Yes Sergeant, of course. Does that mean that we are going to be staying here and guarding the General?"
"You`re a bright young lad Williams, yes it does mean you are staying here, under my command I might add. You two might have just come across Portugal, Spain and France without proper directions. However, I don’t think I need to remind you both that these say I`m in command." The Sergeant pointed to his three stripes on his arm.
"We know that Sergeant Price. We didn`t choose to travel all that way with the General without a heavy escort, the powers that be thought we would have a better chance, travelling light, so to speak."
The Sergeant nodded his head. "Point taken Carter. Right then, I suppose you both saw the tents on the way here?" they both nodded," well go find the orderly in charge, he’ll show you where you`re sleeping. Grab a bite to eat and get back here. Twenty minutes, no longer!"
Williams smiled mischievously across to Carter regarding the Sergeant and his remark about him being bright. The hefty shove that he received in his back as they turned to go, let Williams know that he understood the smile fully. Once they had found their way back to the line of ridge tents it wasn`t long before they were eating.
"What is this then cook?" Carter asked, holding a forkful of food beneath his nose.
"Firstly, I`m not the cook, we all take it in turns here. Secondly, it could be salt pork, or it could be beef."
"Don`t you know which it is?" Williams asked, looking bemused.
"No, because I don`t know whether you`re eating yesterday`s leftovers, or the days before that."
"Wonderful." Carter said, tossing his fork onto his plate in disgust.
"What`s up lads... lost your appetite?" The day cook scoffed as he walked away.
"Let`s get back to the General." Carter suggested, getting to his feet.
"Shall we take him some food?" Williams half asked, as he picked up the two tin plates and piled them together to make one great mound.
"You really are just too soft lad." Carter muttered as they walked back to the ruined priory.
"So what do you think of your quarters then lads?" Sergeant Price enquired, as he walked away from the Corporal that he had been conversing with.
"The food leaves a bit to be desired Sergeant." Carter`s comments were met with a huge grin from the Sergeant before he spoke again. "Yes, but I reckon you`ll get used to it, all in good time."
"It sounds more like us doing the prison sentence than the French General." Williams whispered to Carter. After the General had been fed, they were both given permission to take a look over the small island. A rough track took them the full circuit of the plateau but there were no other paths to talk of leading down to the cold sea, which broke against the harsh cliff face. There was just the one route, the twisting steep path that they had used upon landing.
"There`s plenty of good food here lad." Carter remarked excitedly, eyeing the gulls and pointing to them as they sat, precariously perched in their hundreds, on any little ledge or jut of limestone that they could find.
"You wouldn`t go down there after them would you John?" Williams said as they both stopped and he leaned over the edge as far as he dared to, looking down the almost sheer drop.
“There is rabbit here as well. Look.” Carter pointed at the small black pellets on the path. Williams nodded, he hadn’t noticed them, but his friend Carter never missed a trick. He admired John Carter all through their trip together, with the General, he had always managed to find food from somewhere; it seemed he could conjure up a chicken at anytime, day or night, rain or shine. They had always managed to stay one step ahead of the French army, ducking and diving, running and hiding; sometimes they had to go miles out of their way to avoid detection. Without Carter he believed they would never have made it, which was probably why he was chosen in the first place. Williams recalled it was Carter who saw the French infantrymen first. He had been out scavenging for food and stumbled across the eight of them. He reported back and, after a short discussion, Carter, Corporal Haines and Smithy went back there. By the time Williams and the other two turned up with the General, the three of them were sitting around the French camp fire tucking into the goat that was roasting on the spit. That was the best meal they had all trip Williams thought to himself.
"Rope, that`s all I`ll need lad, then we can have something better than salted mutton or beef." Williams nodded back to him, he hadn’t really heard what had been said, yet he knew that a smile and a nod always kept Carter happy.
They continued their exploration, and were soon back at camp. Carter had already noted that the west tip of the island was easier to scale down than anywhere else. He knew that he would try there first and that he would try soon, very soon. The evening drew in quickly, for most of the day they had sat and rested their weary aching bodies, sleep hadn`t been easy whilst they had had the General in tow. The General had been secured in his pit-like dungeon, having only been allowed out for his evening meal. Carter and Williams met the five other soldiers that were already on the island, getting it prepared for their arrival. Carter had taken an instant dislike to Corporal Miller, he didn`t know why, he couldn`t as yet put his finger on the reason. It was his own instinct for survival which told him he was going to have to watch that man like a hawk. After their late meal Sergeant Price had sat them all down and assured them all that they wouldn`t be here very long, living under these conditions. Everyone cheered, except Carter; he gave a knowing smile, and would believe it only when it happened.
That night a guard was posted, to sit around the warmth of the camp fire for the first four hours and then to be relieved by another after that time. Carter noted the disdainful look on Corporal Miller’s face, when he was chosen rather than Williams or Carter. As the Sergeant put it. "They need a good night’s sleep. Having escorted the General all this way."
The following morning brought the heaviest frost of a, so far, mild autumn. The tents were white and starched solid. The elder bushes and dormant wild brambles were cocooned in white hoar frost. The grass crackled and crunched flat beneath the feet. The pale sun hung almost translucent in what looked like a snow filled sky. As Carter emerged from his cold sleeping place he threw a damp blanket around his aching, tired shoulders. He hoped, he really hoped, that the Sergeant was right when he said that they wouldn`t be very long under these conditions. He looked up as the first few flakes of snow began to fall. He smiled the same knowing smile as he did last night. He knew that this particular campaign was far from over.
oooOooo
CHAPTER THREE
December 22nd
Colin and Barbara Mitchell arrived at Weston General Hospital at ten thirty in the morning. Over the last three days, their routine had followed a similar pattern. Into the hospital at ten thirty, then they would sit and take it in turns to hold Jane’s hand and talk to her. They even played one or two of her favourite C.D.s that she had left behind on her last visit. Some of the nurses would from time to time walk over and pass comment on a particular Robbie Williams or Take That song. Both parents found it very difficult to keep the long conversations going, talking to their daughter lying there, with no movement, not a single response, was beginning to affect them both deeply. Barbara had found, along with the music, some pages of Jane’s revision from last year. Today, she had brought them with her even though Colin had thought it was all just a waste of time.
“Hello darling. Look what I found in your room last night.” Barbara started to say as she slowly stroked her daughter’s hand.
“Some of your old revision notes. I didn’t know that Napoleon declared France an Empire on May the 18th in 1804 and then crowned himself Emperor in December. You’ve altered the date here three times. I hope you finally got the right answer.” At that moment, Colin walked into the ward with a strong cup of tea for her.
“Your Dad’s here now to say hello.” With that she patted her daughter's hand and stood up so that he could take over.
“There you go Babs.” He said, passing the tea over.
“You haven’t called me that in a long time.” She remarked, as she took the cup by the handle that he offered.
“Has your mother been reading to you? Never could see the sense in learning history could I. Do you remember me saying to you? That’s all finished with now. The future is what’s coming next. You laughed so much at the silly way that I had said it. Do you remember?” Colin suddenly rose from his chair; it nearly toppled over with the force.
“What’s the point? She can’t hear me.” With that he stormed out of the room and rushed off down the corridor. Barbara was caught in two minds, they both needed her but Jane had to come first. She sat back at the bedside and once again took her daughter's hand.
“Take no notice. He does get his knickers in a knot sometimes doesn’t he?” Barbara changed the subject and started talking to Jane about her Grandmother, who Jane had always been very close to. The bond between them was more like Mother and Daughter than Grandmother and Grandchild. Barbara had in some ways resented this closeness, she often felt left out of conversations and thought that they shared little secrets together that no one else knew about.
Colin came back into the intensive care ward with his head bowed and a small posy of flowers in his hand. He offered them to Barbara and mouthed the word `sorry`. Barbara smiled as she took the freesias. “I was just telling Jane about Grandmother and those men from the council coming to repave outside the Day Centre. How she gave them hell about the mess they were making and how long they were taking just to lay a few flag stones.”
“Go and stretch your legs, I’ll take over now.”
“Yes, perhaps I will. I won’t be long though.” Barbara placed a hand on his head as she passed him. Colin moved into her warm chair and carried on where his wife had left off.
“You should have seen the look on their faces; it was a real picture Jane. A real picture. Four strapping blokes being scolded like little children. I’ll tell you something, they did a damn good job come the end. I suppose they didn’t dare to do anything less.” Colin’s eyes watered, and he looked up at the ceiling as if that was going to stop them from rolling down his cheeks. Colin took a deep breath, he knew he had to stay calm; he had to believe that this was really working.
In the meantime Barbara hadn’t actually stretched her legs very far, she was busily chatting on one of the telephones in the reception area.
“No, it’s just impossible at the moment. I need more time. If I say I need more time, then I need more time. For Christ’s sake Robert, what does it take to get through to you? Yes, yes of course I do. Yes” Barbara turned her head and looked around when she realised that her voice had been getting louder and louder. She smiled at a woman with a little girl, who was swinging one leg back and forth under the chair that she was sitting on, her other was immobilised in plaster, which looked like everyone in her class at school had scribbled on.
“I’ll call you again tomorrow. Yes, the same time, and Robert think about me for once. We both want the same thing in life but I think we’re going to have to wait awhile. Love you. Speak to you tomorrow.”
“Was that your Mother?”
Barbara turned, and she felt her neck flush immediately.
“Yes...I thought I’d better just give her an update.”
“Been giving you a hard time has she?”
“No, what makes you say that?”
“Oh nothing really, you just look a little hot and bothered.”
Barbara’s guilt deepened as she glanced across to the mother and child, not really knowing just how much they had heard.
“Well I suppose she did have a bit of a dig at me because I didn’t call her yesterday.”
Colin frowned, and looked a little surprised.
“The silly old devil. I telephoned her yesterday.” He said, taking Barbara’s hand and leading her back to Jane’s bedside.
A nurse was attending to their daughter as they walked into the room.
“I’ve just finished. I was only chart checking so she’s all yours.” The nurse smiled at them both as she left.
“Your mother is a strange woman.” Colin remarked, as he walked round the side of the bed and looked down affectionately at his daughter.
“Why, what makes you say that?” Barbara’s voice trembled slightly.
“Well on one hand she hardly ever bothers to call, week in week out. The next she’s asking for hourly reports.”
“Mother and Jane have always been close, you know that, and besides Jane is rather ill or had you forgotten that?” Barbara retorted angrily.
“That was very unfair and inappropriate. How can I forget about Jane seeing her lying here like this?” His voice faltered, and this time had no control over the tears that welled up in his eyes and then flowed freely down his cheeks.
Barbara came over and put her arm around his neck.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. It must be the pressure of the last few days getting to me.”
“I understand. Come on; let’s just forget the last few minutes. We’ve got to pull together. Jane needs us both now more than ever before.” With that he pulled his wife into his arms as salty tears poured down his face. Barbara stared over his shoulder at the pale blue walls, tidal waves of guilt sweeping over her, as the man she no longer felt she loved clung to her for comfort. Barbara looked across to her daughter lying there with tubes and leads going in all directions. How still and calm she seemed, even with all of her injuries she looked so peaceful.
“Now then Jane what else are we going to talk about?” She asked, pulling herself away from her husband, and settling into the chair.
“Did I tell you that Alan Barnes called to see how long you were coming home for at Christmas? He is such a nice chap. You went out with him for nearly twelve months, didn’t you?”
“Barbara!” Colin leaned forward and whispered. “You couldn’t stand the lad; you were always trying to stop them seeing each other.”
Barbara raised a wavering hand. “It’s just another name, it doesn’t matter what I think about the lad. It may be the memory of those times that helps bring her out of the coma.” Her voice had become a whisper. Then she returned to Jane. “He seemed quite keen to see you again. He’s doing really well for himself, working with computers or something like that. You know me. I don’t understand that kind of thing, so I didn’t really take it all in when he was telling me about his job. I invited him round the day after Boxing Day. Thought you might like that?” Barbara looked up at Colin, who shook his head before indicating that he was going for a walk. Barbara just waved him away.
“I do hope he decides to come, that would help make your Christmas for you wouldn’t it?”
Colin was still shaking his head as he walked down the corridor that led to the main entrance.
“Are you alright Mr Mitchell?” Doctor Greenwood asked walking over to him, tucking a patient’s notes back into the brown folder and putting them under his arm.
“Oh, yes I’m fine.” He stuttered, having been caught off guard whilst deep in his own thoughts. “Well, actually I’ve just left Barbara, my wife.” The doctor nodded to encourage Colin to continue.
“I’m sorry. You know my wife is Barbara. I guess I’m just a bit uptight. It’s standing in there listening to her talk to Jane about someone she once went out with, as though he is coming back into her life. What’s more, she doesn’t even like this guy, spent most of her waking hours trying to find ways of breaking them up. Now she wants them to be best buddies or something like that.” Colin was rushing his words, jabbering on, not even looking at the doctor as he stood there patiently listening.
“I mean Jane can’t even hear or understand a word she is saying.” He had finished his quiet ranting and his shoulders sagged, his chin dropping to his chest.
Doctor Greenwood rested a reassuring hand on Colin’s shoulder as he tried to help. “We don’t know that for certain Mr Mitchell. There is a lot of strong evidence for the complete opposite. In fact, we had a case earlier this year when a young motor cyclist hit a car head on. He was in a coma for three months and his parents had, like you and your wife, sat at his bedside religiously talking to him and playing him his favourite music, which incidentally drove us all mad. Guns and Roses and some group called Metalics.”
“Metallica.” Colin interrupted, and seeing the surprised look on the doctor’s face he explained. “Alan Barnes, the young man Barbara is talking to Jane about, they are his favourite group, but I know what you mean about the noise.”
“Yes, Metallica they’re the ones. Well anyway, none of it seemed to make any difference that is until one of his motor bike friends turned up, and started talking to him about bikes. Within thirty minutes, his eyes were open, and we saw the first signs of some sort of response. Okay, it took another two months before he could leave, and a few more before he was back on a bike, but he came in to see us and to thank us. He was dressed in leathers and looked like Darth Vader until he took his helmet off.
“Will Jane ever fully recover?” As soon as he asked he knew it was a silly question.
“At this stage I couldn’t say, but my real point was that you mustn’t give up hope, and it doesn’t matter what, or whom, you use if it is going to help Jane.”
“Thank you. I understand that now. Guess I’d better be getting back before I’m in more trouble.” Colin smiled and nodded as he walked away, leaving Doctor Greenwood to his own thoughts.
oooOooo
CHAPTER FOUR
Steep Holm. Day Three.
It was early morning on Steep Holm, and the three days that had passed since General Junot had been brought to the island had been rather uneventful, the threatening snow had never materialised, the days were just cold and bleak and boredom had set in. Other than the General, Sergeant Price and his seven man unit, no one else was there, other than the gulls and rabbits of course. Supplies were sent over from the mainland just before low tides so that the small landing craft could beach itself on the shingle on the south side of the island. Then it would be every man, except one to guard the General, racing down to the boat to unload it as quickly as possible before the tide turned. The waters here were fast flowing and high rising, it was very dangerous work.
The ketch that had brought the General had been sailed back to Brean by a spare crew that came with the provisions, which they were now storing away.
“How long do you think we will be stuck here?” Williams asked Carter as they dragged the last of the wooden boxes into one of the supply tents.
“Search me young Jamie. There are times when I think that I would rather be back in Portugal, or Spain, or wherever else the Ninety Fifth is.”
“Yes, I must admit that I sometimes miss the Regiment and wonder just what they are up to now.”
“Got to be more interesting than watching over some so called important General that much is for sure.” Williams nodded back at Carter, and gave him a playful nudge. “Who would ever believe that we would be pining for military action in exchange for this safe little haven?”
“None of the lads in the Ninety Fifth, that’s for certain.” Carter added sitting on the last box as they put it down in the back of the tent.
“Grubs better here.” Jamie Williams said laughing.
“Tis when you cook it lad, that’s for sure. I can’t cook anything without it going wrong.”
“I could show you if you liked?”
“No, I’m happy foraging for the food and watching the General.” Carter had used the `I can’t cook` routine before and it always worked, it always got him off those particular duties.
“Does he say much when you’re with him, handing over my excellent food?”
“Yes, usually yuk, just before he spits it out. Calm down young Williams, I was only pulling your leg. Anyway you’ve only cooked once since we’ve been here.”
“That will be once more than you then.” Jamie responded with a wry grin.
“He actually speaks quite good English, only found that out yesterday. The sly old devil, he always knew what we were talking about.” Carter added as an afterthought.
“Well most of them top officers are Lords or Barons, or whatever they call them in France.”
“That’s as may be, but this chap ain’t no General see.”
“Course he is Carter. We caught him ourselves. Easiest prisoner I’ve ever taken.”
“How many prisoners have you taken then Jamie?” Carter held up his hand, waiting to count them off.
“Well... alright not very many. He was still the easiest.”
“One?” Carter pointed to his thumb. Jamie Williams nodded.
“I’ve seen some action, before I joined up with you. I was in three skirmishes with the French...”
“You killed how many?” Carter interrupted, holding up his hand again.
“Listen. It’s alright for you. I was only seventeen when I joined up, you don’t know what it was like back home, not much food, no proper work. My mother was pleased to see me go. You won’t tell anyone will you John? Please.”
“Your secret’s safe with me young Jamie. I was even younger.” He whispered. Jamie Williams just stood looking down at Carter in disbelief.
“Now then.” Carter continued as if it was no big deal. “You think back to when we captured our General.”
“Well, he looked dazed, perhaps from all that cannon fire, or drunk. Didn’t one of the lads say he seemed drunk?”
“Yes Harrison did, but he never smelt drunk did he?”
“Then in that case he was dazed, like I said in the first place.”
Carter was shaking his head. “How many Generals do you know that put themselves in the front line?”
“Wellesley does. Christ I thought he was going to sabre all of those Grenadiers on his own at Vimiero.”
“Yes, well I think he’s the exception to the rule. What I’m trying to say lad, is that not many high-ranking officers are in the front line. Right?”
Jamie Williams nodded, listening to every word, as though his very life depended on it. Carter carried on, he was enjoying the attention. “This General...This so called General, says, as far as I can gather, that he is a Sapeur or Pioneer.” Carter saw Williams pained look, he was completely confused.
“They fought with the Grenadier Regiment on the opposite side of the fighting line to the Voltigeurs.” As Carter explained, Jamie acknowledged that he now understood.
“Oh, the wild axe men, you mean? He’s saying that he is one of those instead of General Junot?” Carter started to applaud. “Like the Sergeant once said, you’re a bright young fellow. What’s more, he doesn’t act like a General. There’s no gentlemanly manner about him. I think maybe what he is saying could be true. Jamie lad, close your mouth or the flies will think they have found a new home.” They both started to laugh.
“Carter is that you in there?” A deep rough voice bellowed, as Corporal Miller entered the tent. Carter stood to his feet.
“Corporal.” Carter said loudly, Jamie also came to attention.
“Check on the General and make a start on tidying him up. We’ve just had a communication from the mainland; some very important people are coming to see our guest.”
“Yes Corporal.” Carter replied, but didn’t bother to salute.
“Carter.” Corporal Miller shouted, as they were both leaving. Carter turned back to face the Corporal.
“I’m just waiting, just waiting for the right moment.”
“Yes Corporal.” Carter knew what he meant; he knew that from this day forwards he would have to watch his back.