A Sister's Destiny

Rosie Clarke

Description

A young woman’s journey is beset with trials and tribulations, but will it end in happiness?

As war looms in Europe, 18-year-old Jane Shaw, runs her family’s household as an unpaid servant on a meagre budget.

When her beloved younger brother dies in suspicious circumstances, Jane as his carer, is forced to take a position in service looking after Ned, a troubled young boy. Here she meets Ned’s Uncle, dashing David Heron, and they form an immediate attachment which will impact Jane’s whole life.

Finding themselves orphaned, Jane and her sister Melia are left at the mercy of their domineering Aunt Alice. Struggling to cope with Aunt Alice's exacting wishes Jane decides to strike out on her own and do her bit for King and Country in the Nursing Corp. Here, despite the terrible conditions she finds her one true vocation and one true love.

But Jane’s destiny has many more cruel twists and turns to come.

Will she ever find her peace and get her happy-ever-after?

And where does her destiny lie and with whom?

A new saga set during World War One from the well-loved, bestselling Rosie Clarke

Sujets

• Siblings
• Historical
• Primera Guerra Mundial
• Friendship
• World War I
• Sibling
• General officer
• Historical fiction
• General
• Nurse
• Sagas
• Family Life
• Saga
• Fiction
• Première Guerre mondiale

Informations

• Publié par: Boldwood Books
• Date de parution: 29 juin 2023
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781801621779
• Langue: English

Extrait

A SISTER’S DESTINY


ROSIE CLARKE
CONTENTS



Prologue


Part I


Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9


Part II


Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

More from Rosie Clarke

About the Author

Also by Rosie Clarke

Sixpence Stories

About Boldwood Books
PROLOGUE

She was lost in the enveloping mist, alone and yet not alone for they were with her. She could see their faces… thousands of faces, disembodied and reproachful, looming out at her from the dense fog. So many dead men marching through the mist… thousands upon thousands lost in the cruellest of wars… their eyes reproaching her.
‘Forgive us. We could not save you…’ she cried, tossing on her pillow as the dream deepened. ‘Our tears could not save you…’
There were more faces in the mist, dearer and closer to her heart. One face apart from the others, separate and more terrible in its reproach, because his death was her fault.
PART I
1

‘I’m glad to see you’re well wrapped up today. It’s bitter-cold and I shall be glad to get home to a fire!’
Standing, shivering in the cold that bitter January day in 1914, Jane Shaw turned her head as she heard her neighbour’s voice. She was standing outside Woolworths in the main street of March in Cambridgeshire, the small railway town where she had lived for the whole of her eighteen years, wondering whether she could afford to buy a penny bar of chocolate for her young brother.
‘Have you been to work this morning, Aggie? I thought you were working nights at the pub?’
‘My boss asked me if I would go in this morning.’ Aggie Bristow, a comfortable-looking, middle-aged woman with brown hair and twinkling grey eyes, bent over the shabby pram Jane had parked on the pavement. ‘How’s young Charlie then?’
‘He isn’t at all well.’ Jane looked anxiously at her brother. ‘He hasn’t got over the chill he had at Christmas. He isn’t as strong as other children of his age.’
‘If it hadn’t been for the care you lavish on him, lass, I think the poor lad would have been gone before now. You’re better to him than most mothers, though it ain’t fair you have to stay home and look after the boy.'
‘I don’t mind taking care of him.’ Jane smiled as her brother waved his gloved fist at her. People thought there was something very wrong with him. The doctor had told Jane that it might be something to do with him having been born to a mother in her middle years whose health was poor, but Jane thought he was just slow at learning. Charlie was sometimes difficult to control but he had a lovely nature. ‘I was just wondering if I should buy him a bar of chocolate. I promised Melia she could have some new pencils for school but Charlie deserves a treat, because he is so poorly.’
Aggie put her hand into her coat pocket and pulled out a threepenny piece. ‘Here, take this, Jane. The lad deserves—good gracious me! Look at that horse…’
Jane glanced in the direction Aggie had pointed out and gasped. A horse was careering down the High Street of the small market town, its reins hanging loose. Even as she was wondering what had happened to the rider, she saw that a young boy playing with a wooden hoop was standing right in its path.
‘Look after Charlie!’ Jane yelled at her neighbour and rushed out into the road in front of a cyclist, who had stopped in confusion to avoid the horse, and a parked van, whose driver was in one of the shops. She caught the boy by the arm and dragged him clear, pushing him towards the path just as the horse brushed past them both, knocking her forward so that she landed on her knees in the road.
Winded and shocked, Jane remained on her knees for a few moments after the horse had raced on down the road. She was vaguely aware of shouting and screaming, the sound of a car braking hastily, a hooter blasting, and then a man wearing riding breeches running after the maddened horse and yelling at the top of his voice. The boy she had saved was crying noisily and being comforted by a large woman in a smart brown coat with an astrakhan collar.
‘Are you all right, miss?’ A man in a grey overcoat and trilby hat came up to Jane as she struggled to her feet. ‘You might have been killed.’
‘I was afraid the boy would be knocked over.’ Jane winced as she looked down at her coat and saw the muddy stains. Her knees felt sore where she had fallen, though she didn’t think she had any other injuries. ‘I’m not badly hurt. I was lucky.’
‘It’s a miracle no one was killed,’ the van driver had been examining the side of his vehicle and now came to join the little crowd around Jane. ‘Horses are damned dangerous beasts if they aren’t kept under control.’
The sound of shouting and cheering made them all turn round and look. A man in working clothes had launched himself at the horse and grabbed the reins as the beast crashed into a stall selling vegetables at the side of the road. Potatoes, cabbages and other goods had spilled out into the road and several vehicles had halted suddenly, causing confusion and noise, but the horse was now finally restored to its rider.
‘Thank goodness someone stopped it before it did more damage,’ Aggie said as Jane joined her in front of Woolworths. ‘That was a foolish thing to do, love. What would have happened to young Charlie if you’d been killed?’
Jane was shaking. ‘I was afraid the boy would be trampled. It didn’t occur to me that I might be hurt…’
‘You want to get straight home, love,’ the woman in the brown coat came up to Jane and touched her hand. ‘You saved my Tom’s life. I reckon you deserve a medal.’
‘It was just instinct.’ Jane blushed, as she became aware of people looking at her curiously. She caught sight of her reflection in a shop window. Her dark hair was tucked under a red felt cloche hat and her skin had a greyish tinge, her eyes slightly dazed. ‘Yes, I should get home, Aggie. I’ll walk with you if you don’t mind?’
‘’Course I don’t mind.’ Aggie took hold of the pram handle. ‘I’ll look after Charlie. You can pop into the corner shop and get him a bar of chocolate on the way home. What you need now is a cup of hot sweet tea, my girl.’



* * *
‘Where have you been?’ Jane’s mother was in the kitchen when she wheeled the pram into the big room and lifted Charlie out, sitting him on the shabby but comfortable sofa. ‘I wanted a drink and you weren’t here. I had to come down and make it myself.’
‘I’m sorry I was out when you needed me. I had a cup of tea with Aggie…’
‘I thought I told you I didn’t want you going round there?’ Helen Shaw’s sharp eyes went over her. ‘What happened to your coat? It looks as if you’ve been rolling in the mud.’
‘I fell over. Aggie was there and she saw I was bit shaken so she insisted on making me a cup of tea.’ Jane wouldn’t dream of telling her mother that she had pulled a young lad clear of a charging horse. No sympathy would be given; she would simply be lectured for reckless behaviour. ‘I’m sorry I was so long. I popped back to the corner shop and got Charlie some chocolate.’
‘Why you want to waste money on him I don’t know. He doesn’t appreciate it.’
Jane held back the retort that sprang to her lips. Arguing with her mother was a waste of time and might bring on one of Helen Shaw’s bad heads.
‘He loves chocolate, Mum, you know he does.’ Charlie was small for his age, unable to walk properly, though he was three years old.
‘What he loves is neither here nor there. I don’t think it is good for him to be indulged.’
Jane sighed as she put some water in a saucepan and set it on the range. Charlie might eat a soft-boiled egg if he felt well enough. She had baked earlier that morning and he enjoyed bread and butter cut into soldiers.
‘I’m going to fetch the coke in now,’ Jane said and picked up the bucket. As she moved it, a stack of fairly recent newspapers used for lighting the fire fell over. She picked one up, glancing at the headline about a scheduled aeroplane, making a flight from St Petersburg to Tampa, and marvelled at the idea of such a modern miracle.
‘Well, get on with it,’ Mrs Shaw said. ‘I’m not very hungry but you can make me some cheese on toast. You can bring it to me in bed.’
‘Will you watch Charlie while I fetch the coke?’
‘For goodness’ sake! Am I expected to do everything? Be quick then. I have a headache coming on…’



* * *
Jane heard the church clock striking twelve; she had been up most of the night with Charlie because he had been crying and miserable all day. He hadn’t seemed too bad the day they’d gone shopping in the High Street, and he had eaten the chocolate bar she’d bought with Aggie’s threepence. However, his cold seemed to get worse that night and he seemed really ill when she got him up the following morning. Jane had asked her mother twice if they should have the doctor but Mrs Shaw thought it a waste of money.
Outside the cottage the rain was lashing down, beating against the small windowpanes; the wind made an eerie sound as it howled about the eaves, drowning the sound of a train pulling into the marshalling yards across the embankment. Yet the noise of the wind was nothing compared to the sound of Charlie screaming.
‘Hush, Charlie sweetheart,’ she begged as she bent over his cot and stroked his head. His skin felt hot and dry. He had been crying for hours and nothing she did would stop his pitiful wailing. ‘Please don’t cry, my love. You’ll wake Ma and she needs her sleep.’
Charlie stared at her without comprehension. Although, Charlie should have been by now, he still wasn’t walking at all though he managed to speak a few words when desperate for attention.
‘What’s wrong with him, love?’
Jane’s father entered the small bedroom. She turned her head to look at him. He was dressed in a pair of old cord trousers held up by black braces and a grey shirt.
‘He hasn’t been well all day, Pa.’
John Shaw walked to the cot